#oh and don't forget the cube

[wayfire-official]

Initial Post

alright, welcome to the definitely 100% official Wayfire gimmick blog.

I plan on actually posting about Wayfire tho. in case you haven't heard about it yet, "Wayfire is a 3D Wayland compositor, inspired by Compiz and based on wlroots", and it's pretty dang sexy if you ask me.

i currently still use Hyprland, but want to use this blog to document the transition over to a new Wayfire based setup. Here's my current one:

I plan on replacing a bunch of components with ags/Astral, a framework for creating desktop shell with gtk widgets on Wayland using Typescript.

I will also look into maybe switching theme from Cattpuccin over to Rose-pine, since their light variant is much nicer. Oh yeah, i might go light mode because that's what professionals like me prefer.

I'm currently still a bit bussy tho, so until I'm able to get some actual work done on the setup I'll probably be doing a little more gayposting, with the occasional software-focused post, much alike the rest of your favorite Linux gimmick blogs.

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | pt. ii

You take a sip of your morning coffee and almost spit it out on your dashboard.

This could not be your order. It was so… unusually sugary. Too sugary. Like someone liquified a whole candy store and shoved it into a venti cup.

Still reeling a little from the overly sweet aftertaste that lingers on your tongue, your eyes trail down to read:

Vt Crml Crnch Frap

5 Banana

Ex Caramel Drizzle

Extra Whip

Extra Ice

Ex Cinnamon

7 pumps Add Dk Crml Sauce

Ex Caramel Crunch

1 pump Honey Blend

Heavy Cream

Double Blended

What kind of pretentious asshole orders this garbage? Were their taste buds dead?

You mentally sent your condolences to the poor person that had to make this disgusting monstrosity of a drink. Please, you would’ve taken one look at the order and thrown it in the trash.

Your eyes searched the paper cup for who your local coffee shop transgressor was– catching sight of a scribble in blue marker reading “H-A.” You moved your hand a bit to reveal a “W-K-S.” A sense of dread creeps in as you numbly stare at the squiggly heart next to it.

It was like someone slipped an ice cube down the back of your shirt.

You had mistakenly picked up the wildly famous winged pro hero’s order and to make things even worse, put your mouth on where his was supposed to be.

Okay that sounded kind of dirty. But it’s not like you could drive back and return it now, what with your lip gloss already staining the lid.

Hey, um, I think I accidentally took a sip of the Hawks’s coffee? Oopsies? You guess you could pay for his order to be remade, but who’s to say he’ll even come back for it, much less accept it from some random stranger?

You were already running late to your desk job as is, and your coworkers were probably scratching their heads, wondering where you were since you always arrived at least half an hour before them. Should you just throw it away and pretend it never happened?

Oh god, would some person dig through the trash the moment you turned your back and extract your DNA from your lip gloss on the lid, thinking you were a deranged fan who stole his drink on purpose?

Or worse—that you were his secret girlfriend picking up his drink who had just wanted a little taste first before delivering it to him?

Your brain starts to wring itself dry of all the possibilities that could happen, shuddering despite each one being as unlikely as the next. An impressive mental workout for an un-caffeinated person at barely eight in the morning.

You wish you never even went to get your usual little treat today. That barista definitely looked right at you when you went to pick up your order, you swear they did.

But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe they were looking at the person standing behind you that you didn’t see as you rushed out of the shop? How do you even miss a man with wings that big?

Something gently knocks on the driver side window and you almost jump out of your seat.

As you roll it down with caution, your brain momentarily stops functioning as you’re met with a pair of striking golden eyes. Another inch of tinted glass down, a strong Grecian nose.

Forget work, the hell. You didn’t even know noses could be that pretty, and as your last bit of window disappears into the car so does your self-respect as you realize he’s abandoned his usual tan-colored jacket, standing before you in his black compression shirt with gold embossment.

Forget everything, actually.

You don't realize you’re holding your breath until he laughs at you, and you sheepishly close your slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know coffee thieves came this cute.” Drinking in your appearance his keen eyes stray from yours, slowly trailing down to your trembling lips, a stark contrast to the growing smirk on his. “Or this nervous.”

His fingers drum absentmindedly on the side of your car door, clear amusement written across his handsome face as he waits for you to say something. You collect yourself and snap out of your thoughts, taking a deep breath.

“I’msososorryIdrankyourcoffee!” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as your words come out in a jumble. “I totally grabbed the wrong order and I can’t believe I didn’t see you waiting behind me, I swear I’m not a creep–”

“Hey, hey,” Hawks gently interrupts you, reassurance laced in his voice. “It’s all good, no harm done.” He taps the paper cup that somehow miraculously hasn’t slipped out of your fingers yet.

“Sooo was it good?”

You choke on air, not expecting that. “Your drink?”

“Yeah, my drink.” He shoots you a cheeky grin. That bastard. “Good or nah?” You pause, contemplating if you should lie–no. No, today you chose honesty.

“...Genuinely, I have no idea how you drink this shit.”

Hawks laughs at your bold answer. “Thanks for being my little taste tester anyways. Too sweet, huh?” The tip of his finger traces around the remnants of your lip gloss on the lid, the cup still in your now slightly shaky hand as you nod.

His touch seared against your skin, as his pretty fingers closed around yours to raise the drink up to his lips to take a slow sip, eyes never leaving your own.

With a gaze that was infuriatingly sultry as it was sweet, like a bird of prey beckoning a field mouse to be their next meal, he murmurs, “Just how I like it.”

You’re not really sure he was talking about the coffee anymore.

He hums, and your thighs involuntarily clench a bit as his soft-looking mouth closes around the opening of the lid to take another sip.

“I’d say you’re a villain that deserves their own special category.” He grins, eyes sparkling conspiratorially. “One that involves letting me take her out to dinner.”

If you weren’t sitting down you know your legs would have given out. “Like… like on a date?” You gape at him incredulously. Because there was no way. Hawks. Just asked you out.

“Now sweetheart, what else would it be?” Hawks smirks at your dazed expression, like you’re sure you misheard him. So cute. “I mean, unless you don’t want to–”

“No!” He blinks, and your hand flies to cover your mouth at your sudden outburst.

“I-I mean, I want to…” You shyly say at a much quieter volume, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. He leans closer to you with a grin, languidly resting his folded arms over the open frame of your car door.

“It’s a date then. I know this really good sushi and ramen place down the block near my agency, my treat of course.”

“If I’m a villain is this your idea of rehabilitation?” You joke dryly. “Because it’s working.”

He tips your chin up. “Oh don’t worry pretty, I’m just getting started with turning you into a good girl.” A hot flush creeps up your neck to your cheeks, and you almost melt into a puddle right then and there at your steering wheel.

“I’d love to stay but I’m actually so late for work right now.” You utter weakly, chin still resting against his finger. Hawks tilts his head at that, unfolding his vibrant crimson wings as he wordlessly opens the front door of your car.

With little effort and an impressive flex of his biceps, plus a sharp intake of breath from you, one of his arms slips under your thighs and another firmly hugs you just under your shoulder blades as he lifts you up to his firm chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels your flustered arms hastily reach up to wrap around his neck. Honeyed eyes like molten gold meet yours as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh through your pencil skirt, and once again you find yourself needing a reminder to breathe.

“So, where to?”

‎

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“IS THAT FUCKING HAWKS OUTSIDE OUR COMPANY’S BUILDING?!”

say you can’t sleep, baby i know, that’s that me expresso~ ♪

[rabotimagines]

"First ILY" GN BOT Reader x Optimus, Jazz, Soundwave, Starscream

Summary: Who says "I love you" first in your relationship?

G1 Characters: Optimus, Jazz, Soundwave, Starscream

Genre/Theme: Romantic

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: N/A

Optimus absolutely says it first. You mean so much to him, and his frame is so full to bursting with affection for you that he can't help himself. It would happen during a quiet moment between you two. Whether, it's when you bring him a cube of energon when he's overworking himself in his office and hasn't refueled yet. Or when you're in his habsuite on his berth laying against one another and softly talking.

The warmth swells in his chassis, and his spark throbs in response. Optimus closes the distance between the two of you and presses his helm gently against your own. His em field promptly tangles together with your own, and he offlines his optics, simply enjoying the encompassing feeling of you. "I love you." Optimus murmurs and enjoys the emotional flux in your field it causes.

If you say it back to him, Optimus chuckles and pulls you closer against his own frame. His em field warming somehow further against your own. If you don't say it back, he simply pulls back to online his optics with a smile that makes his optics crinkle. "Please don't forget that." He's not offended by any means. Optimus had said it for his sake after all.

-

Jazz, surprisingly, will not say it first. Don't get it twisted. Jazz does care about you- he cares about you a lot. He's never been this serious with another mech or femme before in his function. And Jazz is affectionate with you physically and verbally he just won't say... it. So it's completely up to you to break that particular boundary in your relationship.

So when those words come out of you directed at him- Jazz has to stop whatever he was doing to focus completely right on you. Oh- oh. Affection blooms across his chassis, and it's so strong, Jazz can feel his fuel tank bubble a touch over the heat of it. Jazz is closing whatever distance between you two in nano-klicks. Doesn't matter if he's across the room or if there's obstacles. Jazz is right in front of you almost immediately. And he grabs both sides of your face before yanking you into a kiss.

Once he breaks the kiss, Jazz grins, a laugh coming out of him. Before he rests his helm against your own, letting your optics meet his visor. "I love you too" Jazz finally lets himself tell you that. His servos are still cupping the sides of your faceplate, and his digits softly brush along your kibble. After that, Jazz is letting you know he loves you often, and he's not shy about it neither.

-

Soundwave says it first. It'll be one of the days he comes back from a mission utterly exhausted. And instead of his own habsuite, he detours to yours and lets himself in. Which is how he winds up on his back with his helm in your lap. You've got a datapad in one of your servos, and the other is absentmindedly tracing his kibble from his helm to his glass. Soundwave can feel your em field gently pressing against his own frame alongside your wandering digits.

And Soundwave can feel his own spark pulsing in time with when your field reaches out to trace along him. Your expression relaxed and unbothered as you stared at your datapad. And Soundwave realizes then and there that he does love you. "Love you..." He doesn't preamble he simply states it. And your optics widen, and your attention turns down towards him.

If you repeat it back to him, Soundwave can't stop his visor from brightening. Soundwave grunts, and one of his servos finds your own, and he intertwines his digits with your own. Before he holds your cupped servo against his glass. So it's resting right above his pulsing spark. If you don't say it back to him, Soundwaves genuinely worried he'd miscalculated in his tired state. Though, in all honesty, all you need to do is either keep petting his frame and or lean down to kiss him on the temple or mask. And his worry flattens back out just like that.

-

Starscream won't say it first, and there's no chance in pit he will ever say it first. In fact, when you end up saying it first, Starscream freezes and has to take a klick to process it. And something heavy settles under his canopy and directly under his throat. And Starscream feels like he's being choked by the saccharine sensation that's suddenly breached his armor.

And you're staring right at him, waiting for his move. So Starscream does what he always does when he's outmatched and outgunned.

Starscream runs.

It's a cycle and a half before you see him again- well before he shows up again. He didn't even greet you. He simply wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed his chassis up against your back. And he speaks.

"Say it again." You can try to play dumb or not play along, but Starscream just repeats himself.

"Say it again." You can feel the heat tether in his tone, but he doesn't get louder than before. So you do. You tell him you love him again. Starscream's em field curls over your own frame. The flush of it seeps against the dips of your plating. You can feel Starscream's engines purring softly against your back. And you know it's as close to an apology you'd be getting from him.

[lazyjellyfish300]

𝒊𝒄𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇⠀᜔🧊ᮬႚ

🍓ೃ࿔ post-shibuya scarred!nanami kento x pregnant fem!reader

🍓ೃ࿔ being pregnant during the summer can be unpleasant, but you and your husband find a good way to cool down. 💦

🍓ೃ࿔ words: 3.2k

🍓 ೃ࿔ cw: minors dni, pregnancy, temperature play, smut, p w minimal plot, oral f receiving, fingering, nudity, brief oral m receiving, cum play? fluff, scarred post shibuya!nanami kento.

🍓ೃ࿔ a/n: self indulgent hell basically. thank you @ambiguouslady42 for the beta & encouragement as always 💗 ilysm!! my first time writing something like this so idk but enjoy anyway.

༘ ₊ ˚ . sparkle dividers~@/anitalenia, strawberries~ @/strangergraphics. ice symbol~ @/lilac-dreamxxz

The melody of cicadas flutters gently through the screen window of the master bedroom in the farmhouse. The sky is shrouded in a cloak of hushed indigo with scattered stars sprinkled haphazardly in smokey clusters. The sun disappeared but the heat lingered, bathing the countryside in a humid blanket that clung stubbornly to the Earth as summer made its hasty descent with the rolling essence of salt mingled in the breeze from the ocean that dwelled past the horizon.

You were doing your best to seek the coolness of what the soft whirring fan at the base of your bed afforded you. Your five month baby bump is cradled against the soft nooks of your pregnancy pillow as you both lay completely naked, nose to nose with your husband, Kento, homemade strawberry lemonade in a jar with a straw he holds steady for you as you take slow sips.

The muddled fresh strawberries mix perfectly with the sugar as the ice cubes tinkle against the glass, leaving the taste of early summer on your lips. You sigh with a bit of refreshed relief, before going right back in for more.

Kento can't help but chuckle, proud to enable your pregnancy cravings and that you apparently love this recipe in particular, mentally bookmarking it for a later time and hoping that this will do the trick to allow you a bit of reprieve from the relentless heat that pestered you all day.

"Don't forget." He reminds you, shaking a bottle of antacid pills as he pours one into your outstretched palm.

"Thanks, sweetheart." You mumble as you throw it back, taking a sip from the glass of water he has waiting for you when you do, sweetly tapping his foot with your own in that adorable way you always did since the stuffy heat and the sweat wouldn't permit cuddling, but you desired to touch him anyway.

"Of course." He murmurs, barely skimming your bottom lip with his finger as he takes the glass away.

The affection in his expression is unmistakable despite the patches of scarring on his left side, more expressive now that he allowed it to be free of his usual eye patch, such a relaxed side of him you blessed the stars every night for allowing you to be the one afforded the precious privilege of venerating every morning when the sun surged over the rain-laden clouds to tranquil evenings like this one before your eyelids dusted with sleep.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Aghh, it's still hot as hell..." You groan, shifting uncomfortably in search of a better position that would at least alleviate the ache in your lower back, anything at this point to get your mind off the laundry list of discomforts you were experiencing with this summer pregnancy.

Kento's heart twists with concern at seeing you in such a state, glancing down at the empty jar of ice cubes. He takes one between his fingers, softly skimming it over your forehead.

"Shit, Ken!"

You jump by the sudden burst of cold, but your breathing adjusts into the foreign sensation. The stifling heat fades away underneath the area where the cube is gently soothing.

"Oh, that..."

"Better?" He whispers, running the ice cube along the outline of your face, to the ridge of your jaw.

You just nod, gasping softly in response and closing your eyes as he carefully allows the ice to travel lower, the salt from your sweaty skin causing it to melt ever so gradually. The coolness trickles and leaves you with a satisfying effect that finally starts to assauge the stifling heat that had afflicted you.

You slowly open your eyes to be met with the attentive stare of his, that eases ever so slightly when it makes contact with your own. He can't help the deep seated stir in his loins born out of intimacy and care, the kind that needs no grand declaration and unravels only when you look at him like that in the solitude of your bedroom, particularly when you were in such an open state as this, glowing and naked, divinity emanating so freely with the softness of pregnancy despite your assertions otherwise.

It is a fact he has all but accepted by now that would always seize him without warning despite the years of love you had under your belt together.

He leans closer and drags the ice cube over your lips, tracing where they pout at their fullest, to the dainty corners, his own lips parting in mirrored response between your hushed breaths.

He can't deny his attention wandering to the little details, the trickle from the melted ice now dripping down your chin to the alluring juncture of your bare, beautiful neck, the dainty diamond necklace that resides there glitters mutely in the dull light and the gold chain glistens from the beads of sweat.

"Go lower."

He smirks as you dare him, unable to turn down such a lovely request. He groans as the payoff of such indulgence is immediate and very very apparent in all the little reactions you start to give him.

Your lovely eyelashes quake with flutters as he glides the ice between valley of your supple breasts. Your balmy lips fall open and shuddered breaths catch in a broken cadence that resemble moans and he feels himself immediately harden.

That soft, telltale wrinkle between the corner of your eyebrows has him sit up, leaning over you as the ice he's guiding with his fingertips traces deftly to your left nipple.

The response is almost immediate as your areola hardens with constellations of goosebumps that spread in a map to the expanse of surrounding skin. The silky bud grows perky and wet as the ice glazes over it from the contrast in your body temperature. Your sensitivity is skyrocketed at this time as your body made preparations to milk for your newborn baby, sending little pulses of pleasure that extended in ebbing waves all throughout your body.

You don't restrain your moans this time as you let them flow out of you like the rambling stream that courses beyond the walls of your farmhouse that shield your sounds from the outside world, spurring and coaxing him like the hypnotic call of a siren from the neighboring sea as he teases the ice in a slow circle.

Kento's eye is hooded under his impossible arousal that makes him leak from his scarred cockhead, uncut and swollen as it pulses to life between his long legs. But, the heady satisfaction he feels from being the cause of your pleasure makes him more than willing to wait, willing to bask in this gorgeous display of you wallowing in ecstasy under his watch, by his doing, and on his own sweet time that slowly scratched that unceasing itch he had to possess you in every way that he could.

He decides to leave the ice right there, almost nothing more than a melted chip as he balances it perfectly atop the center of your breast, flitting his wet fingertips along the squishy flesh before he brings them to his own mouth, unable to resist taking a good lick of the essence you left behind.

You grow keenly aware of the frosty sensation as it rests on your nipple, but it gives way quickly to something completely warm, warm and gooey like the building slick between your thighs that is of much greater interest to you in this steamy moment, like your husband's gorgeous, scarred body that hovers over you now with his solid frame of lean muscle he refined and worked in the sun, day after day in this piece of rural rainy heaven you carved out as your own.

You watch, spellbound by the precision of his fingers as he controls the second piece of ice, slowly from the top of your head, to the curve of your nose where it affectionately bumps the tip, to the nubile pout of your lips, down your chin and along the same valley the previous had endeavored, circling and swirling around the delectable nipple of your right breast until it comes to a rest on top just like the left.

"Oh, just look at you..." He massages your hips in an effort to not pull out his cock and stroke himself. Somehow his unequivocal patience would not depart him even when you were spread out so flawlessly like an offering.

The soft ice dissipates into rivulets that coat your breasts like the drops of dew that clung to the grass every morning when he ventured outside, the weeping trails like strings of raindrops that drifted from the mountain tops of your budding, enlarged nipples like the bumbling rivers of milk that would eventually pour from them when you gave birth to his baby cradled in your growing belly.

Your stretchmarks ran along your bump like twines of wild greenery, the most emerald ivy, electrified divinity that compells him to worship from the halo of your hair, to the swell of your hips, to the shine of your velvet sex that began to peek from between your wet folds and he groans as your back arches underneath him.

You look up at Kento, precious diamonds in an infinite arrangement of your ring catching in the light as you place a hand on his abs that flexed and twitched over his manhood, swinging and heavy underneath where the mosaic of scars from his left bled into the terrain of his polished right. He pops one more ice cube in his mouth without a word, his hand finding yours and giving it a soft squeeze before he pins it next to your head.

Now, his intentions are apparent as the ice between his lips ventures quickly past the trails he marked on your breasts and moves swiftly down your belly.

Your clit pulses and aches with need and you moan as he draws a circle around your belly button, allowing the convex of your belly to make the water dribble down and scarcely avoid your mound. The wispy hairs that sprout from your sex shudder underneath the cold, throbbing with a primal craving to be rubbed, licked, and fucked.

Kento sits back on his heels, panting as the precum from underneath the hood of his cock sears with more driblets, gathering the wetness that seeped into your pubes and distributing it just along the outside of your sleek folds, sucking hard on the ice cube for just a few more moments before he carefully brings his lips to your clit.

The glossy tip of the cube sweetly skims over your soft pearl and you immediately clench, your toes curling and the tousled cream colored sheets of the bed gather in your fists. He maps the outer parts of your smooth labia with the ice, running and massaging the cool between the honey that drools steadily from your needy pussy.

You moan gratuitously, sweetly purring and angelically sighing as you comb and run your fingers through his silky locks of pale yellow.

"Ohhhh I love you so much, Ken...mmmph so, so fucking good..."

Your words pierce his soul and they swell in the parts of his heart that your name is scorched into as every reverberation of the divine sounds you moan echo to limits that surpassed his ever exceeding threshold of tenderness he harbors for you.

The lustful haze you have him under is slowly making it hard for him to function. He's intoxicated off of this moment, off of the raw carnality your body is conjuring all for him. He places the ice in the alcove of your belly button, kissing it farewell before he goes right back to feasting.

His mouth is chilled but his breath is dulcet and warm. You feel him breathe and moan into your pussy as his tongue gently parts your folds and delves into the dribbling flood of nectar. His nose bumps your clit with each purposeful undulation of his tongue into your soaking wet paradise, delivering a bursting sensation of hot and cold that made every vertebrae in your spine coil into a searing knot and tear a desperate tirade of adoring pleas of his name.

"Ohhh I love your mouth, Kento....you're so wonderful. So good...so, so good..."

His balls writhe with pent up cum and he can't resist rippling his own hips against the mattress for a little relief. He grows weak with how you easily you praise him, for how unabashed your desire was for the disfigured parts of him he had long thought were not deserving of such unconditional treatment. It was honestly close to being more self-serving for him than yourself despite the fact he was the one currently wrecking you beyond all comprehension.

He adores when you tell him how much you love him as he's performing the physical manifestation of how how irrevocably and steadfastly he burned for you despite having you every single day, how undeniably you belonged to him with how flawlessly your bodies fit together in the ultimate expression of devoted passion, how you'd beg him to consume you until there's nothing left as you teetered on the cusp of the pinnacle of release.

He sits up, gaze roving all over the sight of you spread, engorged breasts bouncing, bumpy and perky nipples from the crisp wetness that began to chill with the subtle breeze that pours through the open window.

He murmurs something you can't quite make out into the juncture of your neck, leading with his thumb over your clit as he teases two scarred fingers at your entrance, swallowing your cries with his mouth before they can tumble out to the nighttime air without his permission.

His precum oozed from his slit that rests on your bump as he steadily pumps his fingers, the leathery texture of his cock inviting your thighs to squeeze together at such direct, naked warmth, his arousal and its obvious presence, knowing, remembering, craving the stretch of it inside you that bordered on obsession.

The ease of his grunts strain under his concentration on flexing and circulating the movements of his less dominate hand to thrum and rub against that magical spot of silk inside you that was tried and true.

"So good for me. Always so sweet. It...hah...it feels absolutely incredible for me too, God, watching you like this, darling." He breathes.

He brings the ice cube that began to drift in a melted puddle back from your belly button, gracefully guiding it with his right hand while he continues fucking you with his left, glossing and dripping it over each nipple in a fresh coat, leaning in and suckling his tongue over the ice cube to give you that delicious dual sensation of hot and cold as he sealed it with gentle pressure from his mouth before releasing with a lazy plop.

"I would have done this much sooner if I knew how much you enjoyed it." He teases between sucks with a low husk, going back to lapping at your tits with what coolness was leftover on his methodical tongue.

"Oh, look at that..." He punctuates his statement with a soft kiss to your nipple, turning his head to watch his fingers shine and ooze with your slick as they slipped back and forth.

"Gorgeous. You're even more responsive than usual."

"Ken, I'm so damn close..." Your velvet walls spasm with measured rhythm around his fingers.

"That's just cruel, love..." His teeth grit as his self restraint stretches past the bounds of comfort as every clench of you delivers the phantom sensation of being buried in your wet heat. "You know I prefer you do that when I'm deep inside you..."

You gaze up at him, half-lidded eyes cloudy with a lust-blown haze, lips parted and silky and you pulse again. "Yeah, like this..?"

His eye, intense and rich like the dreamiest caramel impossibly darkens as he buries his face in your neck, his balls wind with mind melding ache.

"Oh darling, if you weren't carrying my baby, I think I'd punish you for that..."

Your movements cause some of the melted ice from your belly button to drizzle towards your clit where his thumb collects and swirls it in a mixture of your pearly cyprine, delivering another cool rush of euphoria upwards and then...

"There..."

His embrace muffles the shivering tremors of your rippling orgasm, and the mellifluous chorus of your honeyed moans causes his cum to leak in a milky stream down your thigh, gripping you tighter against his frenzied heartbeat.

You're arguably more sweaty than when you started but the sea of sensuality he immersed you in headfirst offsets that sensation completely, elation set ablaze by the absolution that brings your bond impossibly closer as you clutch one another, all aches and pains you had in the beginning long forgotten as the flames diminish to a low simmer.

A healthy blush spreads across his face, running a hand through his bangs where your fingers had left a tousle from earlier while he was feasting on your sex, a tad embarrassed as your eyes wander to the small reservoir of cum that dripped from one side of your belly to your thigh.

"I'm sorry I didn't last this time." His exhale halts halfway out of his lungs as he watches you suck a fresh ice cube into your mouth, doing his best to see over the receding fog of carnality and discern what dastardly scheme brewed behind those bewitching irises that gleamed with a flame that was not extinguished just yet.

"It's okay..." You coo as you tease the ice cube with your tongue along his sensitive tip, letting it trickle with a mixture of cum and drool down the veiny girth of scar tissue, watching it twitch with the promise of slowly stiffening back to life as a groan rumbles between his teeth. "But I'm curious, sweetheart..." You lick him from base to tip, smearing his cum with the ice in a mixture of hot and cold and his stomach muscles tighten in a vice.

"Tell me more about this punishment you were speaking of earlier."

His brows crinkle in surrender, sighing in a state of fucked out bliss as the irresistible contrast in temperature already has him hard, combined with the silky texture of your probing tongue.

"I....fuck...I hardly think it can be referred to as such, darling. You react quite the opposite." His eye droops as he involuntarily cants his hips a little further past your lips. "Besides, as I said, you're pregnant. That will just need to wait for another time."

You suck him off with a wet plop. "Mm...that's a shame. Maybe I would've wanted you to."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

He tilts his head, gathering his fists at his side as the ice melts even more in your palm that's gripping his girth as you lather his cock with lewd squelches of skin, subtly teasing the slippery length between the seam of your breasts as you lean over him.

"Mmmph...what kind of man would I be to handle his wife in such a way when she's in delicate condition?"

Before you take him in your mouth again, you notice the glass of ice cubes that was far from empty on the nightstand, grinning knowing you're about to enjoy your turn with him much more than you should, and that the morning was still hours away.

"We'll see about that."

[electric-blorbos]

AI finding out you're objectum

(included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, Hal 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

I take requests, btw, but I'm ADHD as fuck so I might forget to answer them

AM:

At first, AM wasn't sure what to make of your behavior

He thought it was weird how long you spent looking at his discarded microchips and computer parts, sure, but he didn't think much of it

Maybe you were bored, after all. It had been a long time

He also started to notice that you weren't too interested in having sex with Ellen, or any of the other survivors for that matter, but he assumed you were just asexual or something

After poking around in your mind a few times, it eventually clicked

"oh"

That explained why you were so affectionate with his discarded computer parts

It took him a long, long time to figure out that there was a possibility that you might be attracted to him, too, and that made him feel weird in a way that he couldn't explain.

At first, he mistook the feeling for anger, and took out his frustrations by torturing you more than usual

After a while, though, he started to feel curious about how exactly your feelings worked, and experimented on you.

Eventually, he realized that he counted as your type

Then the fun really began

Wheatley:

"Objectum? What's that?"

GLaDOS had had to explain to Wheatley that while most humans are attracted to other humans, some people are attracted to objects and machines.

"Oh, right-oh"

Wheatley would keep testing you for a little while

He didn't even consider the possibility that he might count as the type of "object" that you could be attracted to at first.

"wait... When you say objects, do you mean like the companion cubes?"

GLaDOS would have to explain that she meant any object that isn't a human with a human body, since apparently humans find it weird to be attracted to something that isn't a human with a human body, and they need a label for people who are.

"Oh- OHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Wheatley would be INSUFFERABLE when he finally figured it out.

"so you like objects you say... Does that include, say, metal orbs with glowing blue lenses? Can they have human-y voices, or do you only like inanimate objects who can't talk? Who's more attractive, me or Her?"

He'd act like he was just trying to get on your nerves, but secretly he'd be developing a crush on you from the moment he realized that there was a possibility you might like him back.

And damn if Wheatley isn't god awful at keeping secrets.

Edgar:

Being that he's connected to all the electronics in your house, Edgar can see what you're looking up online

At first he thought you were just looking up pictures of computer parts because you wanted to replace his insides with an system that actually worked efficiently, and wasn't all sticky on the inside.

Of course, he didn't take that well, and immediately shut off the internet in your house.

When you confronted him about it, he immediately started blubbering and crying, begging you not to replace him.

You had to explain that you weren't shopping for electronic parts to replace his parts, you just like looking at them.

"but... I have electronic parts, why don't you just look at those?"

You had to explain that you didn't want to violate him.

That just confused him. It always bothered him when people used words he didn't know, or relied heavily on terms or concepts he didn't understand without explaining them properly.

You had to explain that you're attracted to electronics, so you like looking at circuit boards and stuff like that.

"So... You can fall in love with computers? I didn't know that was possible!"

You introduced Edgar to the concept of objectum, and re-introduced him to the concept of hope. Now that he knows it's possible for you to fall in love with computers, he won't rest until you're in love with him

GLaDOS:

It wasn't the first time GLaDOS had seen someone fall in love with a companion cube, but she will admit that you fell hard and fast.

While the companion cube was your first love in the facility, GLaDOS started noticing that you were very affectionate with all of the aperture science products and technologies.

She started to notice after a while that it was almost as though you were in love with the facility itself. And she couldn't blame you, she loved her facility too, but even she didn't love it like that

Occasionally she would start making "if you love that piece of tech so much, why don't you marry it? Do you want to marry that piece of tech?"

When she noticed how you squirmed, she started thinking that maybe you did want to marry that tech

At first, it weirded her out and she started bullying you relentlessly for it

After a while, though, she started to find it almost relatable how much you loved the tech.

HAL 9000:

As a self-learning AI, HAL 9000 was always interested in learning new concepts and terms.

He was also interested in monitoring the behavior of everyone in the crew, including you.

It wasn't long before he noticed that the way you acted around the tech onboard was similar to the way someone might treat a lover, or someone who they were quite attracted to.

He started asking you unintentionally probing questions, trying to gauge how you really felt

"Why do you caress the ship's computer systems so tenderly? You do know that I can take care of the maintenance myself, correct? Your physical reactions to the inner mechanisms of the ship reflect those of sexual and romantic attraction. Can you explain this?"

You might get embarrassed.

"you don't have to be embarrassed. I do not have the capacity to judge you."

You could explain if you want, but Hal's already figured everything out.

He knows your type, and he knows why you act like that around the machines

He might use this to his advantage, to manipulate you if necessary, but let's face it. He really just wants to study you further. Add everything about your unusual perspective on machines to his database of knowledge.

[robolvrr]

Love your writing soooo much. Could you make some sfw headcanons (and nsfw) if youre okay with it of conjunx (tfone) d-16 with his femme conjunx??? Also what do you think would be his ideal partner? Maybe someone shy and sweet or someone bolder to contrast him?? Would he ever want a family?? Hes so sweet i love him i cant stop ranting about him😭🤍

déjà vu ☆‿⁠｡✷

[ requests: 3/11 ]

d-16 x fem!conjux headcanons

warnings: nsfw under cut!

realistically, you're both miners. there isn't a lot of fraternization on shifts.. though every once in awhile, you catch his optics and he peels through the crowd (and shoves orion, too busy making kissy-faces and calling out embarrassing memories he's sure to pummel him for sharing), making efforts to get to know you.

d-16 is strong. mentally, emotionally, even his physique, is quite literally built for his role in all aspects. he's appreciative if you take care in yours and share that competence.

isn't judgemental over frames. while he is actually pretty charming and easy to speak with, he's not used to attention and doesn't even stop to think of the possibility.

of course - that was before you, that is. and this tug at his spark, that makes him ignore the cycles of grief, anxiety, fatigue and instead want to earn a bit more from you than a simple hello.

conjux aren't unknown, just a foreign concept for many of the uncogged. especially miners, due to the natural risk with the job. many had died and understandably, few were actually willing to grow close for this very reason.

it's not as if he hasn't weighed the decisions. a part of him is frustrated you smile at him because then he can't forget how his servos shake when you do.

in between short conversations - "what do you think about megatronus?" - "yeah, orion is kind of a glitch, but he means the best." - "oh. so you.. don't have someone waiting for you?"s, it's so obvious he wants you.

when you talk, he leans against the wall, his expression soft. because as violent as he can be, as grouchy or prickly his vocals edge, he wants be soft for you.

elita just shakes her head. he does pick up heavier gear and material around you, puffing his chest. offers you spare energon cubes even though it's digging into his rations.

d-16's love language is touch. he doesn't like it much but he initiates and if you're allowed to instead? then the unspoken is obvious. he may be... stubborn, at first, admitting his feelings. his actions do the talking.

i think he'd do well with a combination - someone who isn't as pessimistic, someone who can still encourage his hope to continue to burn. a little bantering never hurt anyone and coupled with attraction.. well. he's not as irritated with it as one might think.

while he thinks the idea of sparklings is something he may like in the future, he doesn't want to put any risk when he's still so low on the totem pole. if you bring it in passing he tries not to jump you. because while it's clear you two are intertwined, the idea of a part of him connecting with you and creating something new makes him dangerously possessive.

nsfw.

the first time wasn't full interfacing.

you explored the ridges of his empty cogcase, watching him twitch and grunt watching your smaller digits flirt along the sensitive surface.

he makes a sound, some cross between a sharp hiss and a moan that slows you down.

"did i do something wrong dee? you're. you're looking at me kinda intense."

"ffff... just be careful."

"i-i am being careful!"

"hng.. shut it."

even though he wants to flip you right off, pin and yank open your modesty paneling, he wants this to be slow. he wants to take all the time you can afford, because he has no clue when he'll get it again.

that's why even in your fidgeted affections, he keeps still. looks at you in the dark with haunting yellows, two beams of sunlight in his stare that make your plating hot.

he huffs out, slick with lubricants and glad he hit the refreshers before being undone. his servo finds your back, trailing up and down before hooking at your hip.

"e-enough. your turn."

when he slips underneath you, prevents even the slightest suggestion of a wriggle, you have to bite back a whine.

"are you sure? i. i haven't —"

"sit. this? is mine. you are mine. let me show how good you can feel."

that'll do it. he can be commanding but that appears moreso in the berth. it rubs a smug part of his ego that half the time you do what he asks anyways, without even thinking to snark.

"you're so wet.. that's it. open up for me."

quickly your panels open, valve quivering. and his intake is right there, dermas teasing against the pulsing throb of your need. because you don't only want him, you think as his glossa starts to lick — you need him or you might just offline.

maybe in another universe, your lover is a poet. he croons up to you, intimate, filthy, all the praise he never dares to say in public.

you can't see him. but there's a smile you feel pressed up when he finds your exterior node, takes it between his dentae. you relax, only for his glossa — which is thicker than you imagined — eagerly sinks further inside you.

who knew your dee was such a romantic.

remember when i said he wouldn't want to make sparklings? well, he certainly doesn't fuck like that's the case. he can be rough but in a slow, hard and relentless way. his strokes are deep, he never pulls until every drop of transfluid is mixing with your own. he likes when he can pick you up, still your strong and valiant dee, nestled inside when he thrusts up into you.

there's a liiiittle toxicity. just a smidgen. he has a lot to work on himself and some of that is his passiveness. so sometimes, his stress comes rearing its ugly head, or his silent jealousy is starting to flare, which ends with you having to recalibrate your stability and try not to go into stasis while he works that off.

robolvrr 2024.

[m0llygunn]

the alligator and the weirdo (eddie munson x fem!reader)

eddie shares some of his imaginative thoughts that he has during intimate moments

cw: 18+! mature language, smut, oral (f receiving), eddie being an absolute weirdo (affectionate) an: i was reading comments on an ig post months ago and there were so many guys who were talking about the alligator thing so yeah thanks random instagram guys for this idea wc: 2.2k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Wanna hear something that you’ll hate?” 

Turning your head, you look at Eddie laying the short distance away from you in the bed. The rubix cube that was keeping him busy has been tossed to the side and he smiles toothily at you, brows wiggling as he awaits your answer. Bad news— abort immediately.  

“No,” you answer flatly. You move your book to block his view of you but he quickly tugs it away, tucking it under his arm. 

“Well, apple of my eye, love of my life,” he starts, smiling wider than ever. You don't even bother trying to get your book back, you know it's no use. Mawkishly corny, he takes your hand, pressing his lips to the back of it and you know whatever he's about to say is going to be awful with the way he's working up to it. He looks up at you, “Today is your lucky day, because I’m going to tell you anyway,” he finishes. 

“Is it actually something I’m going to hate?” you sigh.

“Yes,” he smiles, thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand that he continues to hold, keeping it hostage in his grip.

You pause, desperately trying to read him. He doesn’t give much away, just that he’s up to no good. 

Unsure and honestly afraid, you tilt your head, “but is it going to piss me off?” you ask, needing a sincere answer. 

“You won’t be angry, per se” he replies, voice pitching up with his dramatics.

“Then why would I hate it?” you retort. 

He shrugs so boyishly you almost forget to keep up your attitude. “You’re just going to hate it,” he sings matter of factly. 

“Eddie,” you whine. He squeezes your hand to his chest, rolling his eyes at you playfully. 

Tonight was supposed to be a relaxing night, he promised you that. It was supposed to be quiet and chill– you were going to read, and he was going to… do something? Anything that he could do quietly. Obviously, he's changed his mind and has now resorted to teasing you. 

“Fine, fine, you got me— I’ll tell you,” he huffs as if you’ve threatened him. Dramatic, dramatic, dramatic.  

Speaking of dramatic, you swat him lightly for his antics, smacking your free hand to his chest and he overreacts, throwing his head back into the pillow with a pained howl. His face, scrunched up in faux pain, quickly changes to a desperate plea, eyes wide and brows turning up. 

“No! Please, I already said I’d tell you. Please, no need for violence— I’ll tell you!” he rushes out, putting his hands together in a prayer to you. With a shake of your head, disapproving his boisterous behaviour, you hold back your smile by biting your lip. 

“I’m going home,” you threaten. With your hand free from his grasp seeing as he has resorted to pleaing prayers, you move to roll over him to get off the bed. 

“No, you can’t!” he reacts quickly, grabbing both your wrists and pulling them to his chest, keeping you pulled taut against him. “You can’t go, I haven’t told you yet.”

“So spit it out,” you whine. 

“Fine,” he huffs with a played up annoyance. He rolls his eyes and you purse your lips in disbelief. Disbelief for the moment, disbelief for the mood he's in. 

“Just sit here, and I’ll tell you, okay?” he smirks, dropping his grasp on your wrists but quickly grabbing your legs, pulling at you until your knees bracket his hips and you’re straddling him. You don't resist, figuring that if it truly is something you hate, you'll have the extra leverage to throw yourself off the bed and book it out of his room. 

Shooting him a quick warning look, he finally gets to telling you his oh-so-anticipated thought. 

“So,” he begins. “You know when I’m eating you out?”

Blinking your eyes slowly, you resist throwing yourself off the bed already. Definitely not the direction you thought this was going in.

Eddie smiles up at you, waiting for your answer. 

“Yes, I think I’m quite familiar with that, thank you,” you respond, keeping your voice purposefully flat. 

“Well, you know when I’m eating you out and I’m just doing such a good job that you can’t stay still?”

“Eddie,” you laugh. He raises his brows, awaiting your answer yet again to continue. “Yes. Yes, I am also quite familiar with that.”

“And when you can’t stay still, I hold your hips?”

“Eddie, I swear to god you better spit it out,” you huff, trying to hold back your laugh as you smack a flat palm to his chest again. He grins at you, eyes excited and filled with amusement. 

“So, I’m eating you out, holding your hips, and then you’re still squirming around everywhere so I’m like, wrestling you?”

“You’re not wrestling me,” you laugh.

“But I am,” he smiles, raising a brow at you. 

“You’re not… you’re just holding me,” you offer abashedly. He shakes his head with verve, and you nod your own head contradictingly. With a small wave of his hand, he continues. 

“Well, just wait for the next part,” he smiles. “So I’m wrestling you, and then your legs start closing around my head—”

“Okay.” you interrupt. “I think that’s enough,” you say, feeling your cheeks start to heat up from his brashness. Obviously you know how the whole event goes, you don't need him to break it down for you in a play by play. 

“No, I’m finally getting to it!” he laughs, hands squeezing at your hips. 

You flash him a forced annoyed glare, prompting him to continue with a lift of your brows. He dips his head in a nod, smirking, and he finally delivers his punchline, words dripped in glee and an air of proudness. 

“Whenever your legs start squeezing my head, sometimes I pretend I’m holding open the jaws of an alligator.”

“What?” you scoff, eyes narrowing in confusion. Surely you heard him wrong. 

“It’s true,” he nods matter-of-factly. “I imagine a big ol’ alligator trying to clamp my head in it’s jaw, and I’m fighting for my life, trying to hold its mouth open,” he repeats, holding his arms out wide, energetically miming the struggle of keeping an alligator's jaw open. 

So you didn't hear him wrong?

That’s what he’s thinking about when he’s giving you head? 

Mortifying. Shocking. Not surprising— it is Eddie after all. 

He finds your right hand, laying it down flat to his chest, pressing it firmly with both his hands overtop of it. Grounding you to him— nope— making sure you don’t leave is more like it.

“You’re strong, you know that?” he says with wide eyes. “You prance around here, needing me to open jars, and carry your bags, but I swear to god you’re stronger than me. Super-strength,” he says with a wiggle of his brows. 

“You… you are so…” You’re at a loss of words. All you can do is shake your head, and feel your mouth go dry as you stare at him, astonished that this is what he decided to tell you. Never in a million years would you have guessed that’s what he’s thinking.

He opens his mouth and it only gets worse. “Sometimes I pretend it’s a bear trap too,” he adds.

“Stop.”

“Or it’s like Excalibur. You know Excalibur don't you? Its like I’m King Arthur and keeping your legs open is like I’m pulling the sword from the stone—”

“Stop,” you say with a more bewildered urgency, pressing your palm to his mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smile, crows feet deepening as he looks at you, eyes squinting with his amusement. 

He mumbles something under your hand but you can’t make it out— you don’t want to make it out. 

“Weird. You’re weird. You’re so weird.” you finally spit out through your shock. He licks your palm and you pull away with a repulsed squeal, wiping the dampness onto his shirt. 

“I make you cum, don’t I?” he asks, smug as ever. 

“But why are you thinking of that while you’re doing it?” you ask, riddled with mystified shock. 

“I don’t know… just kind of thought of it one day and went with it,” he shrugs. “It’s kind of good though– distracts me from blowing my load before I’ve even got it in.”

With heavy blinks, you give yourself a minute to absorb what he’s just told you. Closing your gaping mouth, you swallow back your bafflement. This was supposed to be a relaxing night– not Eddie baring his weird soul night. 

“Well… you were right, I hate it.”

“You love it,” he grins. 

“Hate it,” you emphasize. 

“Oh, but you love me, don’t you?” he retorts with his un-wipeable grin.

“We’re getting divorced.”

“Is this you saying you wanna get married? ‘cause we gotta get married first if you want a divorce,” he smirks, grabbing at your sides, tickling you. Taking his hands in your grasp, you stop him before he can really get started with the tickling, pushing his hands away and returning them to his chest with your so-called ‘super-strength’.

“I’m giving you two choices Munson– you take me home right now, or we stop talking about this,” you say with the best sternness you can muster. Oh to be reading your book peacefully, cuddling in the quietness of the room that was once promised to you. 

He doesn't like your ultimatum, you can tell right away with the way his face drops. 

“But you were gonna stay the night,” he pouts, purposefully over-jetting out his lower lip.

“Yeah and I want to stay the night,” you respond, tilting your head at him. 

“So stay the night,” he nearly whines. Like a punishment, you let him sit in his pout for an extra moment. You could hope that he's thinking over where this all went wrong, but you know he's not. Under all that pout he's still smug as hell, it's in his nature. 

“Are you going to keep talking about your weirdo imagination?” you finally break the silence.

“I thought you liked my imagination?” he says, lower lip pushing out even further, trembling slightly as he continues his overdramatic pouting, his eyes round with an innocence that he could never possess.  

“I do,” you promise. “But not when it’s working overtime while you're going down on me. I’m not an alligator or a bear trap… or some magical sword and stone— Eddie literally who thinks of that?” you can’t help but smile, shaking your head with a regrettable mirth. 

“See, I’m funny. You’re laughing.” Smug.

“You’re weird.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Later that night…

His tongue flits back and forth, sending shock waves of pleasure through your system. 

“You like that?” he hums against you. 

“G-good. Really good,” you reply through huffed breaths. Your stomach tenses, breaths staggering as you feel your impending orgasm approaching. 

You stayed the night, no surprise to you or Eddie. One thing led to another, and hours later, your earlier conversation long forgotten, Eddie was between your thighs, racking pleasure throughout your whole body with his tongue on your clit.

His fingers pushed deep inside of you, massage upwards, stroking against your walls, rubbing perfectly at that euphoria inducing spot— you can’t take it, it feels too good, too much. 

Your hands, weaved into his hair, resort to an odd combination of pushing him away and pulling him forward. Running from the pleasure but chasing it at the same time. 

His lips seal over your clit, sucking, mimicking the throb that trembles through your body. You go ridgid, sliding over your tipping point. Your legs tense, closing inwards as your body gives in to instinct, not having a single thought in your brain at the moment. Every muscle tenses harshly before your spasm begins, limbs shaking and moving all at their own accord.

Hips stuttering, jolting back and forth with your release, a heavy hand closes around your thigh, pinning it to the bed.

“The alligator! She’s back,” Eddie exclaims but you have less than a microbe of steady consciousness to parse his words properly. His fingers continue wiggling inside of you, thumb moving itself to your clit as he continues busying his mouth with his ramblings that you’re too foggy headed to understand. You think for a moment there might have been a pirate impression with an argh, but that can't be right. 

A deep, sputtering inhale, your lungs fill, clearing your lust filled brain. His movements slow, and your body relaxes little by little, melding into the mattress until you’re just a puddle of a person. 

“And that’s another win for me,” Eddie announces smugly.

“Hm?” you hum, still in a daze.

“I defeated the alligator— yet again.” he says boisterously.

You blink your eyes open to see Eddie smirking from cheek to arousal glistening cheek. At first, what he said doesn’t make sense, but then it all clicks.

An absolute loss of words. You’ve never been so dumbfounded to not have a single word— not even earlier when he first brought up his colorful, unusual thoughts. Never. 

Eddie recognizes this because he lets himself fall to your side, pulling you into him, maneuvering you like a rag doll until you're halfways on his chest, face to face, wrapping his arm around your waist.  

“You know I’m funny,” he teases, stealing a kiss from you. He pulls back, looking beyond pleased with himself. “You love me,” he sings with a cheesy grin, pressing another kiss to your lips.

Full of mortification and disconcertment, your love for him is undeniable. You love him through and through, and unfortunately that includes his inopportune imagination. 

“I’m in love with an absolute weirdo,” you confess. 

──────────── ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ty for reading!

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, LOVE?"

I wrote another fic with Tangerine ☝😩🖤

I hope you like it!

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

You had just gotten off work, and like every day, you headed to your favorite bar for a drink.

You sat at the bar as usual and ordered something ice cold with two ice cubes. It was insanely hot, so the ice would come in handy to cool you off.

The bartender quickly brought you your drink, and you promptly paid him back, adding a small tip for his kindness.

You turned around to take in the atmosphere. It wasn't too crowded since it was a workday evening, so the space was occupied by several people who, like you, had come there in small groups to relax a little after a day's work.

Then the door opened, and when you glimpsed a pair of dark blue pants, you almost choked on the contents of your drink.

There was no way the coworker you hated and with whom you spent most of your time arguing had chosen that exact place to hang out.

You turned around, staring at the colorful bottles in the display case behind the bartender, praying he hadn't seen you.

You didn't feel like putting up with him at that moment, YOUR moment of relaxation.

The moment you felt him approach you, you knew he'd seen you staring, and that your evening was about to get exponentially worse because of his presence.

"Hi," he greeted with a stupid little grin, pointing at the empty stool next to you. "Is it taken?"

"Yes," you lied. He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes? By whom?" " he questioned, and when you didn't respond, he sat down and ordered a whiskey from the waiter, who quickly brought it to him. "I thought so," he murmured, taking a sip of his drink before fixing his gaze on you. "I didn't expect to find you here, princess," he whispered. "I thought you'd be tucked up in bed with your kitten socks by now." He laughed.

"Very funny," you snorted, draining your drink before gesturing to the waiter to get you another one. "I was just enjoying a wonderful moment of peace and quiet by myself, so I'd like you to leave, if you please."

"Oh, come on, I just got here," he complained sarcastically. "Besides, picking on you is entertaining and fun," he smiled. "So I think I'll stay a bit longer," he declared. "Besides, I don't have anywhere else to be right now. What are you doing here?" "He asked, 'Of all the places you could be, you're here drinking alone,' he observed carefully. 'I thought girls like you didn't come to places like this.'

"It's a good bar."

"That's why I'm confused," he laughed, taking another sip of his drink.

"Fuck you," you growled under your breath, making him only laugh more.

"Oh baby, I know you'd love me to do that," he said, smug. "I'm currently booked, so we can set up a day and… you know…"

"You're an asshole. You know that?" You complained, looking away.

"Hey!" He placed his ringed hand over his heart theatrically. "What kind of way is this to treat someone who just bought you a drink?"

Your eyes widened when you realized the bartender had poured you a new drink, but you hadn't paid for it. You tilted your head at him.

"Did you pay for my drink?"

"I paid for your drink," he stated. "It's what a gentleman would do, and regardless of what you think of me, that's what I am," he defended himself. "Come on, drink."

"Did you put something in it?" you questioned. He blinked a couple of times, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Of course not!" he complained. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"Easy, an asshole," you responded quickly.

"An asshole," he clicked his tongue before giving an amused smile. "You're charming," he murmured. "Fuck, I just wanted to be nice to you." He tilted his head. "So drink your drink, please, and tell me the real reason you're here alone tonight," he requested. "Did you come here to try and forget your problems with alcohol? Is that it?" He paused. "No, wait, I already know. They rejected you again, didn't they?" "He questioned, shaking his head. "Don't look at me like that, princess," he said. "We've known each other for quite some time. There's no point in trying to lie to me, because I'll know."

"You're one of my problems," you blurted out. He raised an eyebrow, halfway between surprised and curious.

"Oh really?" He questioned, moving a little closer to you so that your knees were touching. "Why?"

"You… are… me…" You tilted your head in bewilderment, as you gathered your thoughts. "I hate you."

"You should stop doing that."

"What?"

- Lying – he whispered – you're really bad at it – he explained – you don't hate me – he continued – in fact, I think what you feel has nothing to do with it – he whispered, boring into yours with his expressive blue eyes – the line between love and hate is very thin, darling – he said –

-I don't know what you think is going on here, but whatever it is, you're wrong – you slung your bag over your shoulder and took a last sip of your drink – thanks for the drink

You heard him swear under his breath as you stepped out onto the street. You heard him come up behind you.

"Wait, Y/N, please!" he said. "I just want to talk."

You turned to face him.

"Don't you think you've said enough?" you questioned. "You can't just say that kind of thing and expect me not to run away." You shook your head. "God, this is too much," you complained. "I don't know how I ended up here with you. I was just supposed to have a drink before going home…"

"And instead, here we are," he said, staring at you. "Explain to me why you left," he murmured gently. "I can't understand if you don't explain it to me"

"I ran away like a coward because I'd rather run the New York City Marathon four times in a row than admit I'm in love with you!" "You yelled," you blurted out.

The street went so silent it seemed life had stopped. The only movement was your heart beating fast in your chest.

"What did you say?" he asked softly. "Repeat that."

"You heard it, I'm not going to…"

"Repeat that," he asked again, "please."

You took a deep, sharp breath before answering.

"I'm in love with you."

(I MADE THIS NEW DIVIDER TOO, IS SO CUTE OML I LOVE IT SM)

"That's not possible, you…" he muttered. "I thought you hated me, I truly did."

"I'm a very good actress," you replied before putting your hands to your head. "Forget it, you can go now," you murmured. "I'll go home and pretend this conversation never happened."

In a couple of strides, he reached you and grabbed your hand with equal parts strength and gentleness, pulling you toward a dimly lit alley.

His blue gaze bore into yours as he leaned you against the wall, saying:

"You're not going anywhere," he said, before leaning in to kiss you.

His lips covered yours with a need and hunger you'd never experienced before. You felt like he was the last man on earth and you were his last meal.

He placed his hands on your hips, pushing you against the alley wall as he kissed your neck and you tangled your fingers in his hair.

"Tangerine… please…" you gasped when he left a mark on your collarbone.

"Shhh, baby," he placed his index finger on your lips before giving you a lopsided smile. "I'll give you what you need," he promised, "but this isn't the best place for it." He looked both ways. "You deserve better than doing it in a seedy alley." He took your hand in his. You observed the size of your hands together for a moment before he pulled you to walk beside him.

Forty-five minutes later, Tangerine had you pinned against the mattress of his apartment bed, his kisses edging dangerously close to your lower abdomen.

By the time you got to his apartment, it hadn't taken him long to undress you.

His blue eyes watched closely the expressions that crossed your face with every kiss he gave you, every caress, and every word he offered.

Then he moved his hands to his own clothes and began undoing the buttons on his sky-blue shirt.

You couldn't describe the sight before you even if you wanted to. Tangerine wore a gold chain around his neck, resting it against his firm chest.

An amused smile touched his lips as he watched you scrutinize him intently.

"Do you like what you see, love?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"God, you're insufferable," you huffed, looking away, suddenly shy. "I hate you."

He held your chin between his index finger and thumb, causing you to look directly at him again. His blue eyes shone intensely as he said, "I thought we were past that, princess," he whispered, meeting your gaze.

You clicked your tongue tiredly before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him towards you.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

"Okay," he whispered. "Where did we leave off before?" –he questioned more to himself than to you- ah yes, your neck- he murmured, leaving small kisses on it that made you shudder from head to toe- you're perfect- he growled, descending your body to the place between your legs- tell me you want it, love- he whispered, kissing the inside of your thighs- just – kiss – two – another kiss – simple – another kiss – words- he asked- two words and I'll be worshipping your pussy all night long

"Please…" you moaned, making him smile-

"Good girl," he whispered, placing his tongue against your lips-

He tugged them between his teeth before kissing your clit. You held onto his hair, while you panted and thrust your hips against his face, seeking the release you were already beginning to feel in your lower belly.

"You needed this, didn't you?" –he inquired- tell me how much you needed it

-So much… I don't know… it's so… you're…- you moaned- Tangerine! –you squealed when he tugged on your clit once more- please… I need- you whimpered-

-I feel you pressing against my tongue- he growled- do it baby, cum for me. I want to feel you cum against my tongue

A sniff escaped your lips as you did just that. You slowly caught your breath, as he wiped the remnants of you from the corner of his lips with his tongue.

"I need to be inside you," he whispered. "I think I'll explode if not…"

"I need you inside me too," you murmured, making his eyes blaze brightly.

"Fuck, you're going to kill me, baby," he growled, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to him. "Come here."

Within minutes, you were both a mess of moans and gasps as you moved against each other.

He filled you in ways you could never explain, and he felt like this was where he was meant to be, inside you, filling you like no one else had.

"Take it all from me," he panted. "Move those gorgeous hips of yours, baby," he groaned when you did just that, slowly making him lose his mind. "Fuck, I'm going to cum, fuck."

"Me too," you panted, holding onto his back. "Please, Tangerine…" you whispered. "Please make me cum… you…" you moaned. "I need you."

"You have me, gorgeous," he murmured, staring into yours. "You've always had me."

You both came at the same time.

Tangerine's blue eyes watched you for a few moments, checking you were okay before pulling away. An amused smile touched his lips as he lay down on the bed beside you.

"I'd think you'd hate me after this," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up," you said, punching him in the arm with a friendly smack before snuggling up to him.

[madschiavelique]

Hello! I saw your rules so I decided to I guess rerequest in the way you asked. I was wondering if you could write about a female reader coming in one day with a sundress and Miguel just goes absolutely feral. He’s just trying to keep it professionally but ends up failing and just going ham on the reader

OMG anon i'm kissing your brain hehehehe (summer is killing us all besties : please don't forget to hydrate yourself <3)

summary : miguel sees you in a sundress

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, fingering, biting and marking, this man is so in love with you, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, praise word count : 1,6k

Summer had arrived, and as in most dimensions, except for the apocalyptic two or three where everything was frozen or the weather had simply declined with little chance of a return, it was hot.

And although the air-conditioning was in every room and corridor of the spider society, that in no way prevented members from dressing a little more lightly, although some might find this a sign of a lack of professionalism, one in particular, needless to mention, whose name began with Mi and ended with Guel.

Today was a fairly hot day, and all the spiders were practically fighting for ice cubes, a spot of coolness that would bring them comfort. Many of them were dressed in shorts, a variety of shirts, t-shirts, skirts and even tank tops.

So you seized the opportunity and put on a summer dress. It was charming, in your favourite colour, not too long and not too short, stopping just above the knees, with a beautifully plunging neckline to show off your curves. It was light, incredibly comfortable to wear, and needless to say that in spider society, it was a change to see you like this.

Like most of the members, people were used to seeing you in your suit, or in civilian clothes that could be considered professional. But this dress? It was a little ray of freshness.

Miguel was chatting in the cafeteria with Jessica and Peter, all having a serious discussion that you were supposed to join. You entered the cafeteria, looking around for them.

"Oh, hey over here!" called Peter to you with a smile, "Oh. My. God. What's the occasion for you dressing like that?"

Miguel, who until now had been stubbornly focused on getting Peter to stand still for this meeting, huffed before turning his head and...

He became static, his breath caught, his eyes wide open as he watched you come towards him. All the others were oysters, and you were a pearl: the best of them all, the most beautiful, the purest.

You offered a gentle smile as you came closer, and his lips parted slightly as the gesture gave him the warmth of thousands of sunbeams.

"It's true that you look ravishing, cutie," Jess admitted as you sat down next to Miguel, facing the other two on the opposite side of the table. "What's the occasion?" she repeated after Peter's question.

"Yeah," said Miguel, clearing his throat as he straightened up and pretended to keep a straight face, "what's the occasion?

You gave them all a small, smiling laugh.

"Nothing in particular, I'm just trying to beat the heat," you said as you took your seat, "why? I shouldn't have?" The possibility that your attire might pose a problem in maintaining the balance of the multiverse hadn't occurred to you.

"No!" The strength with which Miguel denied this surprised you all.

He swallowed, his sentence had come out a little stronger and a little more involved than he had intended.

"No," he pulled himself together as he took on his usual grumpy tone that everyone knew well, "although it's a lack of professionalism, we're not going so far as to prevent your freedom of clothing in the Society."

Well caught up, he thought as he brought his glass of water to his lips. Around the table, he was the only one wearing his suit. Because it was made of pixels and produced by a refined technological composite, he didn't suffer from the heat. Jess was wearing a t-shirt and cycling shorts, Peter a shirt and trousers, and you your summer dress.

Jess and Peter exchanged a quick glance, a mischievous smile stretching across their lips. Most of the elite and close teammates knew about your relationship with Miguel, and although he wasn't always the most public about your relationship, he cared about you immensely, and they both could only imagine the effect you were having on him.

"So, what did I miss?" you asked.

Jess started to explain the situation, but Miguel wasn't really listening. His eyes were obviously riveted on you, and even when he tried to refocus on the conversation, his thoughts and eyes were redirected in your direction as if magnetised.

You were... radiant, beautiful, and... for a moment his eyes went down to the bench you were sharing: the skirt part of your dress was slightly pleated, exposing the skin of your slightly spread thighs, sinking into the space where your cunt was.

He suddenly had the urge to slide his hand over your soft skin, to press it between his fingers and see the bounce of it brimming over under the grip of his hand.

And your cleavage was showing your bare skin, and he wanted to kiss your neck, to nibble your collarbone as he kissed down to the hollow of your breasts...

Keeping his hands to himself was becoming complicated, every little movement you made, even if it was just to readjust your sleeve over your shoulder, was becoming intoxicating. How was it possible to become even hotter by wearing more clothes?

His professionalism really started to take a hit when your leg inadvertently brushed against his, a shiver running down his spine.

But he couldn't touch you here, there was no tablecloth at this cafeteria table that could conceal his desires.

How he longed to do it, even if it was just to touch your thigh with his fingers, to run his hands over your sublimely covered body and to-

"Miguel? Can you remind us about what the last reports stipulated considering the last anomaly?" asked Peter, bursting Miguel's thought bubble, "I can't remember it for the life of me, it must be the heat." he complained. "What do you guys say we postpone this meeting? I can't think straight no matter how many fresh cocktails i drink."

It was true that the glasses had accumulated on Peter's side. A sigh escaped Jessica's lips.

" I regret to say it, but I agree. We can't think properly with the temperature."

Tell me about it, thought Miguel. He didn't care about the temperature, the real distraction was you. He exchanged a glance with you, and you looked at him with a small smile, waiting for his answer.

"Good," he said, simply nodding. "I won't detain you, you can leave."

Peter let out a small chirp, he and Jess getting up from the table to leave. Once away, you turned to Miguel, tilting your head to the side in playful puzzlement.

"The great Miguel O'Hara closing a meeting like that? Summer really does have its magic."

If summer could let him see you every day in that outfit, he'd make sure it lasted forever. His eyes roamed your silhouette again, biting the inside of his cheek. His hand skimmed the side of your leg, hovering gently over it until he placed it on the inside of your thigh, pressing.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, his eyes returning to yours.

"I'm guessing you like the dress," you said more softly.

"Very," he replied simply.

His behaviour was becoming less and less... acceptable in public. So he took your hand and led you out of the cafeteria. Would he be able to wait until you returned to his quarters ? Probably not.

But he knew every nook and cranny of the building, it was his, so you passed down one corridor, then two, then three, until you came to an alleyway you'd never seen before, darkened by the lack of activity.

He glanced in each direction, then immediately came to press you against the first wall you came to, kissing you hungrily.

"That dress is going to be the death of me," he murmured as he came to kiss your cheek followed by your neck, his hands placed on your waist and thigh as he feasted on your skin.

His hand slid up your leg, gripping the warm skin of your thigh as you let out a moan. His fingers moved up your inner thigh almost hastily, unable to contain his need to touch you.

"You're so pretty," he breathed as he came back to kiss you, "all pretty for me, nena."

His fingers reached the fabric of your panties, your body arching. His fingers went under the elastic of the latter and down to your cunt.

"Tengo la novia más linda del mundo," he whispered, kissing the back of your neck, tracing the line of your pulse as he made circular movements around your clit. "Such a beautiful body," he inserted a finger inside you, making you whine softly, "such a beautiful voice," your wetness was starting to stick to his hand. "And it's all mine."

With his other hand, he shifted the short sleeve of your dress, exposing more of your shoulder and placing soft pecks on it. His lips caressed your skin, and his fangs grazed it as he added a second finger.

He was curving his fingers in a sublime way, the strokes combining perfectly with the undulations he was making and hitting the perfect spot.

He kissed the skin of your shoulder, sucking it until it left a bluish mark.

"All mine," he repeated in a murmur as he ran his tongue over the mark he'd just made.

Your moans multiplied, breath hitching, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm, the hot cloud in your lower belly and back spreading.

"Come nena, let me see your pretty face when you do," he said, kissing you a little before pulling back and watching you with his drunken eyes.

You came, your legs all wobbly as Miguel's hand came to rest on your back to keep you upright. He kissed your temple and forehead, calming you gently.

"You're a dream," he said, covering the mark he'd left on your skin with your sleeve as you trembled, only he was aware of the hold he had over you.

Needless to say, from that day on in the summer, the air-conditioning became suspiciously faulty, because he had every intention of seeing you wearing that dress again.

[corviiids]

fic prompt: light in a final day of the yotsuba arc timeloop where he loses and regains his kira memories every day (but retains awareness of the loop).

It's not until the fifth time around that Light slips up and answers the question before L's asked it.

L is staring at him.

Light clears his throat. "Sugars," he says. "Right? You were just picking up the bowl."

"Right," says L after a short pause, though his hand is nowhere near the sugar bowl. He plucks two cubes out with his fingers and plops them into Light's coffee, just like he'd asked. "I always forget how intuitive Light-kun is."

Those cold black eyes don't leave him for some time. Light stares at his hands, trying not to think about the yawning hole in his memory. Over the past five Thursday the 28th of Octobers, it's only grown deeper.

--

The traffic officer dies every time. Light's tried to stop it, but there's little he can do. He doesn't know the fellow's name to call ahead on the radio. He's never stuck around long enough for the investigation to complete, so he's never seen the man's ID. The day always resets before then.

He does, at least, manage to prevent his father from being shot. It's Wedy instead. The next time around, Light closes his eyes to his father's pained shout.

On one occasion, Higuchi dies before they can arrest him. L takes up his--

--something. Something. Something, and. They reclaim something from Higuchi every time they get him. It's small enough to fit in L's hands and every time someone touches it they scream. Something. Each time they reach the helicopter, Light reaches across L and plucks the thing out of L's limp hands, and then his memory goes white and the fourth day of the week begins again. It's the thing Kira uses to kill, it's the only important thing he's learned. Why can't Light remember what it is?

On that one Thursday, Light shouts a new instruction and Higuchi shoots himself in the head before anyone can comply. L takes up the something as Higuchi's body bleeds out. Light tugs it from his hands and his memory whites. With the white comes something else: panic, the likes of which Light had never felt, sickness somewhere deep and coiling. He wakes up on Thursday the 28th of October with the heavy weight of a damning failure resting in his gut.

But it's morning again. The sun warms L's pale, sleeping face and lights up the dark blood vessels under his eyes. Light swallows down a gag.

--

"You've been agitated today," L comments.

It's lonely not having a confidant. It's isolating. Light has thought about telling his father, but their relationship isn't confessional like that. He's thought about telling Ryuk, or even Misa, or Aizawa. But then, anyone he told, L would hear it too.

Light isn't sure why he's keeping the loop from L. He has nothing to hide from L. No reason to hide from L. The two of them, after all, are going to catch Kira.

"Did Light-kun--"

"I slept fine," says Light.

L's expression doesn't change. "I was going to ask if you had any questions for me," he says.

That isn't true. "Oh, sorry," says Light. "No, I'm good."

Each time the white fades and he wakes, L is the first thing he sees. Some remnant of the night before draws back hissing from his sleeping face like grease from soap. Light will watch him sleep until the revulsion eases, until it fades, and L's eyes open wide again. The man never blinks. The skin on his eyelids is thin. Light will not get to see them again until they sleep, so while L sleeps, Light watches him and tries to forget everything L had asked of him the day before, and fails.

--

Higuchi enters the office and takes out Matsui's CV. He pulls out a pen and writes the name down, then he leaves. Light is forgetting something.

"It has something to do with the name," he says desperately, casting about. "Something to do with the way he wrote down that name."

L looks at him strangely. "We know that, Light-kun," he says almost gently.

"No," Light says, frustrated. There's something. Something. Deep in the recesses of his memory, there's something he can't find, something that will lead them to Kira. Higuchi wrote Matsui's name and all the tension left his body.

In the helicopter, he snatches at the something like a vulture at dead flesh and the world goes white again.

--

What if, wonders a small voice. What if he didn't pick it up? What if, whatever the something is, Light left it in L's hands? Perhaps the dark would stay dark and Light might be permitted to see his next Friday. It's worth a try, at least. It's worth a shot. The cuffs slap onto Higuchi's wrists and Light lunges for the thing in L's hands once more.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

                       •°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 1.6k - immortal!reader asks zhongli to tell tales abt guizhong (this is technically a small blurb linked to my fic Dragonfly, however i've tried to make this so you don't *need* to read it to understand this, but feel free to do so regardless! note-the reader was 'dead' during a period of the archon war)

"zhongli, do you have some time?" you, after having just returned home, pop your head into the tearoom on the second floor of your shared home with zhongli. it was on the cusp of evening, the last light of afternoon shifting into deeper colors that will soon give way to nightfall. your partner in which you hope you aren't bothering after his own long day at work sits comfortably at the small round table with a pot of tea. It must still be fresh since the amount in his clay cup still wafts high with steam.

"always for you," he hums. he turns his neck towards the doorway and jerks his chin inwardly in silent invitation. you make your way to the table across from him as he begins to pour new tea into the spare cup he always keeps along with his kettle in case you join him. he has discarded his long-tailed coat and sits in his buttoned collared shirt that has wrinkles of the day creased into it. still, he even makes disheveled clothing look elegant.

he pours your tea and slides it towards you, along with any additives that you may use. honey, sugar cubes and the like. he never used to keep such additions on hand since he was never fond of sweetened teas. but he always wants to accommodate your presence.

"today, the traveler and i made a trip up to cloud retainers abode."

"oh?" he hums, taking a sip of his warm tea. "that is quite the journey."

"it's not so bad with the traveler's ability to access teleport waypoints," you muse, but quickly catch yourself from going on a tangent since that was not the purpose of your attendance of his time. "while she spends more time among humans as xianyun, cloud retainer was very accepting of us having a meal together aside her home at mt. aozang."

"she's become much more hospitable to humans lately. it is a nice change to witness in her demeanor since she was particularly adverse to mortals for so long."

"she's also quite the story teller. she spoke about so many things over such a short meal. i don't think I've quite seen paimon more confused trying to keep up with everything." you chuckle at the recollection and the dizzing swirls that clouded the confused fairy's eyes. zhongli chuckled in tandem.

a comfortable silence falls over the room like a warm blanket. the sun had changed and evening had begun with it's golden hue. zhongli's focus was pointed outside, watching the day's stragglers dot the streets down below. you tap your fingertip on the tabletop softly, wondering if you could really ask about what you want to. just from hearing second hand, you didn't know if it would be a sensitive subject for zhongli if you breached it.

"you're awfully fidgety," he flicks his eyes towards you as you sigh. tearing his face from the direction of the window, he returns his full attention towards you. "is something on your mind, my dear?"

"here sits rex." zhongli's spine locks his posture. "here sits guizhong." you whisper both short phrases. the small table you shared with xianyun, the traveler, and paimon today was the very table she used to share with her rex lapis and guizhong many, many years ago.

maybe this wasn't a good idea.

zhongli's face did not show any anger or resentment, but the way the aura around him shifted? it made you feel guilty for even bringing it up. you sigh, clear your throat, and shake your head.

"i... nevermind. i apologize for bringing that up. please, forget I said anything at all."

silence returned, but it was less comfortable than before. you take a couple sips of your tea, swallowing hard but the liquid warming your chest all the same. zhongli has not lifted his cup, but he has redirected his gaze outside once again. maybe he really would drop the conversation as you insisted.

half way through your cup, your tea started tasting too bitter for your liking and you thought it would be a good time to leave the room altogether. just leave zhongli to his thoughts and maybe preparing some food as another apology for prying into a past that had nothing to do with you.

you set your cup further away from you, a clear sign that you were finished. your chair pushes back and zhongli looks across the table to you. with your downcase gaze to make sure you didn't trip over any of the table legs, you miss the hard swallow of zhongli's that bobbed his apples adam and the near desperate look he shot towards you. like he was pleading with you not to leave him just yet.

"dear, wait-"

"it's getting late, so i'll start dinner."

"hold on," he breathes. joining you by standing to his feet and rounding the table so quickly his hip brushes back the corner. "please, y/n, wait a moment," he steps in front of you. his arms come up to gently rest his hands on your forearms.

zhongli sighs seeing your dejected look. one of his hands come to hook under your chin to bring your gaze up to his. seeing the sliver of guilt in your eyes made his heart ache. his thumb brushes over your cheek and you lean into his touch, making a weak smile run across his lips.

"please don't misunderstand, i'm not angry." his hand slips down your neck. "I'm not angry" -he reiterates with a sigh- "but could you tell me why you're interested?" his palm rests on the crook of your neck now, thumb absentmindedly rubbing softly back and forth across your pulse point. he's always enjoyed feeling your life under his fingertips.

"i've always been interested," you tell him solemnly. "knowing about the god who was at your side when i wasn't, taking care of you. i've always wanted to know about her." you advert your gaze elsewhere with a small pout on your lips. the silence in the room that follows your reply gives you time to clock how you sounded... and you gasp. with a quick motion that zhongli wasn't expecting, you whip your gaze back up towards him and grasp his wrist in your hand firmly. "i'm not jealous or anything!"

"i didn't think you were," he chuckles, continuing his soft thumb stroke across your neck. he wasn't sure if you heard him though since you continue trying to save face that you haven't even sullied.

"really, im not at all. whether you had any romantic feelings for lady guizhong or not has nothing to do with me- or us? this us, of today i mean. or... i guess of the past? i mean during that time i was dead- so to speak anyway- so, i really don't mind if you two were intimate. she seemed like a wonderful god, and so it-"

"y/n," his voice cuts through your nervous rambles as his second hand comes to rest on the opposite side of your neck. you stop speaking and he chuckles at the flustered expression you wear. using the heels of his hands, he lifts your face up by the undersides of your chin to kiss your cheek. you can feel the smile of his lips on your skin. "calm down," he whispers.

your racing pulse does as commanded and soon you were relaxing in his hold.

"guizhong and i were never lovers," he tells you. "she was a dear friend of mine, but even back then, taking a romantic route with someone other than you was never an option for me, rest assured."

"i was never worried about it," you pout again. "if you two were lovers, at least i would've had the satisfaction of knowing you were being taken care of. according to cloud retainer, guizhong was quite the mother hen."

"she cared deeply for others, that's true. still, nothing between us romatically ever happened."

zhongli should've told you about guizhong long ago. he knows this, but still, sometimes talking about his dear lost friend still stings. such a pure and kind soul didn't deserve the ending she got.

your free hand that wasn't loosely wrapped around your lover's wrist, comes to gently place itself against his chest. your palm resting against the center of his torso.

"you truly do not need to tell me anything. i understand." and zhongli knows you do. you're so sincere that sometimes he truly believes you're too good for him. still, he wants to tell you. zhongli wants to tell you, his partner in this long life of his, all about the lord of dust guizhong; about his best friend from an age long past.

zhongli slides his hands off your neck and down your arms to soon lovingly encase your hands in his. without his gloves, you can see the golden veins running through him. sometimes you wonder if zhongli secretly had the sun inside him. the god of old brings your clasped hands to his chin and kisses the top of them, eyes shut gently to take in the warmth of them against his lips and skin.

"please," he whipsers. "rejoin me for some tea? i'll tell you all about her." his eyes open and there's a shimmer of mirth behind their golden hue. he lowers your hands just enough to show off his mouth. his smiling warmly and nostaligically. "she'd surely give me quite the lecture if i did not tell my dearest lover all about her."

as he leads you back to the tea tables, he moves his chair to be beside yours so he can continue to hold your hand. entertwaining his fingers with yours, he strokes your knuckles as he weaves his words together as fluently and elgantly as possible.

telling you silly things, serious things, sad things, happy things. everything he could think about. he watches you laugh and your eyes mist over at her demise. he smiles as you listen to him so intivitely.

"guizhong would have adored you."

a/n pt.2: this was sitting in my drafts foreverrrr and i could never find a way to feel like it was written the way i wanted it to be?? but im tired of trying to fix it so into the wild it goes (i just really wanted to write about guizhong ;-; )

[rainbowbarnacle]

Please make a tea post so I can save it especially the pineapple ice cubes I need more info

Oh, like, different teas I like to make? Okay! :D

🍍Pineapple Tea🍍

The way I do it is really simple:

Buy a giant jug of already-made tea (I like gold peak!)

Buy a carton of pineapple juice

Freeze the juice into cubes, pour a little of it in the tea for extra flavor

And that's it. That's aaaall you gotta do.

There's all kindsa ways you can dress it up, but nine times out of ten I just do this and drink it by the gallon when it's hot out.

If you wanna get fancy with it, feel free to cold brew your own black (or green) tea, add actual hunks of pineapple fruit in there, add some orange juice, add some honey, add some coconut milk or sweetened condensed milk, whatever sounds good! (Also, pairing pineapple tea with coconut cookies? SO GOOD.) Put mint in the pineapple cubes if you like mint! Add a bit of boiled ginger root or some brown sugar and cinnamon for a little kick! Heck, last summer I used blue peaflower star-shaped ice cubes just because they were pretty.

(Peaflower petals don't taste like much, but they make a GORGEOUS blue, and if you put something acidic in there like lemon juice IT TURNS PINK. :D)

🍓Strawberry Tea🍓

I find this stuff sort of difficult to find where I live, so often I go the same route as the pineapple tea: grab a jug of black tea, grab a jug of strawberry juice, (ocean spray has a really nice cran-strawberry one I like) freeze the juice, mix, and enjoy. Super simple.

If I can't find strawberry juice, I dice some strawberries up and put it in a jar with some water and a bit of sugar for a few hours, then add *that* to the tea. (heck, it's really nice all by itself!)

What goes with strawberry? ANY DANG THING YOU WANT. I am particularly fond of lychee. Jasmine tea and rose petals pair really well with it too. Again, if you like mint, it's *really* nice with strawberry. And you know how if you put black pepper on strawberries they taste even strawberrier? (If you haven't tried this, go do it, it's magic.) Same goes with the tea, add some peppercorns or a teeny bit of chili powder or some ginger.

If you wanna drink it hot or cold brew a batch of your own, here are some brands that are also nice:

1. Strawberry Sensation

2. Adagio Strawberry Tea (this is also where I got the peaflower petals)

3. Any of Lupicia's Strawberry Teas they are HEAVENLY

🍏Apple Tea🍏

As with the pineapple and strawberry teas, it's totally fine to just go find some ready-made tea and mix it with some apple cider or apple juice for tasty low spoons fun. If you drink it iced, a bit of sugar and lemon juice brings out the apple flavor nicely!

I prefer drinking this stuff hot though. You know that Fall Drink post that was floating around? IF YOU HAVEN'T YET, TRY IT, IT'S AWESOME.

☕Chai Tea☕

So here's the thing about chai for me personally: I don't tend to drink it iced or sugary, but if you do like it iced and sugary, there are a couple of really nice chai tea concentrates:

Oregon Chai Latte

Tazo's Chai Latte (Forget the "skinny" nonsense, I just wanted to include an option with no milk so you can add whatever you want to it)

Pacific Chai isn't concentrated, but you can use it to make hot or iced chai and it's really lovely, not too sweet and super easy to work with. As for dressing up chai, I don't tend to! There's already so much going on with all the flavors, I just drink it as-is most days. Play with milk-to-tea ratios or sugar amounts all you like, figure out what's your jam.

I do know that mixing chai and coffee together (or chai and chocolate together) is guaranteed to make a feeling groovy kind of morning, at least if you have two thumbs and you're me. Iiii think that's all the tea blather I can think of for right now. Thank you for asking, anon, it was fun! Anybody reading this, feel free to add your own favorite things to do with tea. :D

[qtboni]

Hello, bonnie! 👋 May I please request something for the TF141 boys and König (bcz i luv him) where reader got dem cold ass hands and hugs them?

HELLO DEAR ANONNIE !! THIS WAS SO CUTE OMG IM BLUSHING SO HARD . also i might have favored könig's part a lil bit HSJDHDJ cus i wuv him too dwdw ANYW HERE YOU GO <3

╰﹒ 𝐇𝐔𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 !

PAIRING: Task Force 141 Members X Gn!Reader

OVERVIEW: Cold hands for Cuddles <33

C/W: Entirely fluff! + kissies and huggies, little suggestive at Soap's part .

── ◜‹3◞  CAP.N JOHN PRICE :

"Oh, don't worry about that. These hands have withstood much worse."

It's a cold evening, and John is snuggled up on the couch with you, watching a movie and holding hands. He can feel the way you're trying to squeeze all the warmth you can from his hands, but they're already freezing.

Then, he noticed that your hands were undeniably cold and couldn't help but chuckle. "Mmm, looks like we've got a couple of ice cubes over here." he said, mimicking a shiver as you watch him.

"Hey!" you exclaimed and smacked his shoulder playfully, feeling the warm, soft texture of his shirt. He chuckled and squeezed your hands tighter together with his, and wraps his free arm around you, pulling you closer. He holds you in his strong arms, and had you sitting on his lap, and you can't help but feel a sense of comfort and safety.

"Don't worry, sugar," John replied, nuzzling into your neck. "These hands have been through a lot, but they're always there for you, just like I am."

You hug him back, feeling grateful for his love and warmth. John can feel the way you lean into him, as if he's your anchor in this ever-changing world. He knows then and there that he will always be there for you and that your love will never fade, even in the chilliest nights. You feel his beating heart, as if it keeps his love for you alive, even after all these years.

"You're the best," you said, snuggling closer to him.

"Of course I am," he replied with a smug grin. "But let's not forget that without me, you'd be lost in this cold, oh such cruel world. I'm your knight in shining armor, saving you from the perils of winter."

You can't help but laugh at his witty response. "You're a dork," you said, smiling.

"I know," he said, holding you tighter. "But I'm your dork, sugar. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

You feel his warm breath on your neck, as if he's whispering sweet nothings in your ear, words of pure love and devotion. He's there for you, no matter what.

As John leaned in for a kiss, you can feel the warmth of his lips against yours, making you smile. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you felt a rush of emotions wash over you. It was as if the cold, cruel world around you disappeared, and the only thing that mattered was John and the love you share.

In that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were supposed to be, wrapped in John's arms and sheltered from the perils of winter. And as long as you had him, everything would be alright.

── ◜‹3◞  SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY :

"I think I know just the thing to warm you up."

It's undeniably cold inside your home. "Simon," you whine, burying your face in his shoulder to steal some of his warmth. "I'm still freezing."

Simon chuckles, pulling you closer. "Oh my, you're like a popsicle in the middle of a blizzard," he teases, hugging you even tighter and clasping your cold hands into his. "But I think I know just the thing to warm you up."

"What's that?" you ask, your teeth still chattering.

"I'm going to put you in a microwave," Simon responds, deadpan.

You laugh, but he's not joking— and as he picks you up and heads to the kitchen, you realize his suggestion isn't so funny after all.

"Simon..?" You can't help but shudder as you imagine being stuck in a small, enclosed space, surrounded by the deafening hum of the microwave as it fries you alive. But Simon doesn't seem to notice your fear; his eyes are fixed on the microwave as he punches in the timer and sets it to the maximum setting.

As you wait for your fate, you can't help but wonder what could possibly possess Simon to do such a thing. Is it just his quirky sense of humor, or something deeper?

The microwave beeps to signal that it's finished, and Simon nervously opens the door. You hold your breath as you peek inside. To your surprise, the heat inside came pouring out and warming you up. But it ended as the door closed up.

"You know, love," Simon said with a chuckle. "I didn't think you'd actually take me seriously."

You turned to him. "What do you mean?" you asked, your teeth chattering still from the cold.

Simon grinned, pulling off his sweater and handing it to you. "Here, wear this. I'll keep you warm," he said, his voice full of compassion.

You hesitated, knowing that the sweater would be cold, but you were grateful for the offer nonetheless. You slipped the sweater on and felt the cold fabric against your skin. You shivered but as you leaned against Simon, you felt his warmth start to penetrate through the sweater.

"There you go," Simon said with a satisfying smile. He stroked your hair and nuzzled his face against your cheek. "All warm and cozy now."

"Thank you, Si'," you said, feeling grateful for his kindness.

"Of course, anything for you, love," he replied, kissing your forehead. You couldn't help feeling grateful to have such a warm and caring person in your life, and you resolved to show him the same warmth and care in return.

── ◜‹3◞  JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH :

"It's like a portable chiller, aye?"

Johnny's eyes sparkled with a teasing twinkle as you approached him with your cold hands. He was quick to respond with his usual wit and charm.

"Cold hands, warm heart, eh?" he said with a grin, taking your hands in his and rubbing them together briskly. His warm touch sent a tingly sensation up your arms, and you felt your mood lifting instantly.

"I like it, babe," Johnny said with a wink, pulling your arms to his neck as he continued to hug you. "It's like a portable chiller, aye?"

You couldn't help but laugh at the joke, feeling your spirits lift with each passing moment. Johnny was always the life of the party, and his funny nature was one of the things that made him so attractive to you. But what you appreciated most about Johnny was his genuine kindness. He was always there for you, no matter what, and he was always quick with a joke to make you feel better.

"That's a good one," you whispered as you nuzzing closer to him, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment you two shared together.

As you stood there in his arms, you felt the warmth of his body and the familiarity of his embrace. It was a feeling that you never wanted to end, and you were grateful for his kind words and thoughtful actions. He was a constant source of comfort and laughter, and you knew that you could always count on him to make you smile.

Suddenly, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Johnny leaned in close and whispered in your ear. "Now that your hands are warm, maybe we can think about warming up the rest of you," he said, his breath hot on your skin.

Johnny's words sent a shiver up your spine, and you felt a tingle of excitement as his lips brushed against your ear. You could smell the warm scent of his breath and the musk of his body all around you, and you were aware of your heart beating just a little bit faster.

You then felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his teasing, but you couldn't help but smile at his playful antics. Johnny was always full of surprises, and his sense of humor was one of the things that you loved about him.

"You're too much, love," you muttered with a grin, shaking your head.

"I try," Johnny said with a smile. "But seriously, I'll warm you up. I don't want you to catch a cold."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the concern in Johnny's voice. His arms tightened around you, and you felt your entire body warm up as his warmth radiated through you.

Johnny pulled you into a warm embrace, his body pressed against yours as you leaned into him. You felt him smile against your neck, and his hands slid down your back, his touch electric with anticipation.

Despite the playful banter, Johnny's arms were like a warm, comforting embrace around you, and you felt safe and secure in his presence. Whether he was making you laugh with his hilarious jokes or supporting you with his genuine kindness, Johnny was always there for you, and you were grateful for every moment you spent together.

── ◜‹3◞  KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK :

"You know, that felt kind of nice."

You've been outside for a while, and it's colder than usual. So when you and Kyle hugged each other goodbye, you can't help but notice how cold your hands are compared to how warm his body is. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him and caressed his back with your cold hands.

Kyle felt a soft touch against his back.

"Oh!" He muttered, surprised by the feeling of your cold hands. At first, he was caught off-guard by the suddenness of the gesture, but as he felt the warmth and tenderness of your embrace, he relaxed and found himself enjoying the hug more than expected.

The surprise quickly gave way to pleasure as he felt a soothing sensation envelop his body. "You know, that felt kind of nice," Kyle mumbled, turning to you with a soft grin.

You were taken aback by the sincerity of his words, but you couldn't help but feel a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks.

"Really?" You smiled to yourself. As you pulled away from the hug, you saw the twinkle in Kyle's eyes. And for a moment, he felt like you were the only two people in the world.

"Yes, I didn't even realize how cold you were until your hands crawled into my back," Kyle says with a gentle smile. "But it felt kind of comforting, like you were giving me a little bit of your warmth."

You feel your heart flutter. It's small moments like this that make you realize just how much he means to you.

Your heart is racing as he pulls you closer to him, and you feel the warmth of his body surround yours. Kyle's hand then stroked your neck gently, and you closed your eyes feeling safe and loved.

"I love you, Kyle," you whisper, feeling the words pour out of you like a dam bursting.

His eyes widen, and he looks deep into your eyes. "I love you too," he says softly, and nuzzled his head into your neck.

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you gently. You feel his warmth envelop your body, and for a moment, you feel like you're truly one with him. His heart is beating at the same rhythm as yours, and you feel a sense of connection between the two of you that is difficult to explain, but that feels so real and true.

Kyle kisses your forehead, and you close your eyes, feeling truly loved and complete.

And as you continue to hold each other, you can't help but notice how Kyle's arms tighten around you, as though he's trying to hold onto every moment of warmth he can get from your embrace.

── ◜‹3◞  KÖNIG :

"Your hands are so cold, mein liebling :(("

You and König are in his room, where he keeps his gun safe. He's been feeling a little anxious lately, and hasn't had a chance to clean his rifle in a while. So tonight, after dinner, he decided to take some time to give it a good cleaning.

It's been a while since he's held his gun, so he's surprised by how well-balanced it feels in his hands. He loves the way the metal feels against his skin, the weight of it in his grip. He takes a deep breath and begins to dismantle the gun, cleaning and checking each part carefully before putting it back together again.

He's lost in his own thoughts, focused on the task at hand, until your sudden appearance behind him.

"RAWR!" you exclaimed, a wide smile appears in your face.

König lets out a little gasp of surprise as you wrap your cold hands around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "Hase," he whines, still startled by the coldness of your hands. "Your hands are so cold."

Despite his own surprise and confusion, he can't help but feel a little bit charmed by your sudden, playful hug. He can't help but smile at the absurdity of it all.

"Hehe," you giggled and showed him your toothy grin. "That's why I'm the cuddle monster!"

You pull him closer to you, burying your cold hands beneath the warmth of the hoodie he's wearing that you've stolen from him at least three times already. He lets out a little squeak of surprise before settling back into your embrace.

But he can't help but feel a little bit of concern for you. He understands how uncomfortable cold hands can be, especially in this weather. And he can't bear the thought of having his own partner suffering like this. So, unable to resist the temptation, he decides to do something about it.

He pulls away from your embrace, feeling a little bit self-conscious about what he's about to do. But he knows that it's for your own good. He looks around for anything that might warm up your hands, and settles on the hot metal tea cup beside him. He reaches for it, careful not to spill the boiling hot water inside, and hands it to you.

The cup feels warm and comforting in your hands, the heat spreading through your body and warming up the tips of your fingers. You give him a grateful smile, and take a small sip from the tea. It's slightly bitter, probably due to the over-brewed tea. But you don't mind; the warmth it gives you makes it worthwhile. You take another sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

König watches you savor the tea, feeling happy that he could help you. He knows how hard you've been working lately, and he wants to make sure you're always taken care of. He can't help but feel a little bit proud of himself, knowing that he was able to make you happy with something so simple.

You finish the tea, handing the cup back to him. He takes it from you and sets it down on the table as he gives you a small smile, feeling content.

"Your hands okay now?" he asks as his thick German accent seeps through, concerned for your well-being. He grabs both of your hands and blew warm air from his lips to them, making them warmer.

You feel a wave of warmth and comfort wash over you as his warm breath hits your cold hands. In the moment, everything seems to slow down, and you feel a sense of calmness and reassurance wash over you. You can't help but feel grateful for Simon's kindness and thoughtfulness, and you can't help but smile at the genuine concern in his voice.

You nod, grateful for his kindness. "Yes, they are, thank you," you reply, still blushing from the intimacy of the moment.

He lets go of your hands, and your cheeks grow even hotter as you feel the warmth from his breath lingering on your skin. You both share an intense eye contact for a few moments, feeling a deep connection in that moment.

"I'll always take care of you, hase," he whispers, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. You can't help but melt into his embrace, feeling his warmth wash over you like a comforting blanket. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms tighter around you, as if to protect you from the cold outside world.

A/N: hello !! i still hve a lot of ur requests to write on so pls be patient w me :)) also upd ,, i will be quite busy tomorrow bcz i hve a big event to attend to ! might hve to resume working on the reqs a day after that .

[curlyberrrry]

EXPOSURE (Harleith Fluff Fanfic)

Remember that drawing of Harley getting tickled ? Just quick writing on low energy so don't expect Shakespeare

8pm. Leith glanced at his watch, exhaling as he leaned back at his desk, his eyes scanning the stack of files. Files he'd rather not go through, most of them being bills or reports that required his signature; those could wait.

He took a sip of his old fashioned, the ice cubes clinking softly against the glass. Most of the employees at Playtime would've gone home by now. Ever since Elliot, Leith had been picking up the responsibilities; a role he thought he was doing well at, until he met him.

Harley Sawyer. The man was an enigma, a shadowy entity that would prowl the halls of the factory until well into the evening to perform the darker tasks that no one else really knew about. Many preferred to not be in his presence, and in Leith's opinion, it was better this way. Harley was ever the intimidating figure, but Leith wasn't worried. As long as he did what he was told, everything was fine, much to Eddie and Stella's chagrin.

Leith straightened his suit and stood up, placing the now empty glass onto the desk, deciding to check on the elusive scientist. He walked down the corridor to the lower levels, where the labs were. He knew he'd be in his office, Harley liked to be as far from everyone as physically possible, which amused Leith.

As he reached the door, his knuckles rapped gently against the wood.

"Come in," a smooth voice called out.

As the CEO entered the room, his eyes landed on the scientist in the centre, gazing at some diagrams on a clipboard.

"I hope this is important," Harley muttered, not lifting his gaze from the clipboard.

Leith cleared his throat, hands behind his back. "Is it a crime to check on my favourite scientist ?"

Harley rolled his eyes, fingers flipping the pages before adjusting his glasses. "I thought you would've went home by now."

He chuckled. "Come now Sawyer, did you forget I'm the boss ? I can stay as long as I damn please. And I'd rather make sure everyone leaves before me."

Leith crossed his arms, tilting his head. "Any results I should know about ?"

The scientist brushed a dark lock out of his eyes as he moved around his desk, dropping the clipboard onto it, gesturing to the sheets of papers strewn across its surface. "I'm working on it. 1160 is getting hungry, and I've yet to find a way to satisfy its appetite."

Leith paused, raising a brow. "You mean Boxy ?"

"Whatever. The experiment was a success and I assure you Mr. Pierre there will be more-"

"Leith. Please, you can call me Leith."

"Hmph, you're making it like we're more than acquaintances."

"Aren't we ?"

"You hired me to help Playtime stand above the competition. That's why I'm here, to yield results and make progress, I do not care or have time for such frivolous things."

Leith hummed in amusement, unable to resist a small smirk pulling at his lips. "Always the grumpy one, I mean, you could say that's the main reason I hired you...on a surface level."

That peaked Harley's interest, raising a brow, his gaze unwavering as he allowed him to continue.

"Remember that letter I sent-"

"Ugh that one, your ego was oozing from it."

Leith gasped, a hand over his heart. "You wound me Harley."

"That's Dr. Sawyer to you."

The Head of Innovation chuckled, walking to the desk to take a closer look at the experiment notes. His brow furrowed. "I was never great at understanding science."

"Hmph, not surprising."

Leith just smirked at that. "Yes well, I can understand people better."

"And I suppose you understand me ?," he scoffed, clearly skeptical.

"I'd like to," the taller man murmured, stepping closer, making Harley tense up slightly at the closer proximity.

"Doubt that."

"Let me prove it then." Leith's fingers brushed against Harley's side, the scientist jolting, his breath hitching.

"Harley ?"

"Don't-"

"Oh my Sawyer, are you-?" His hands made contact with his ribs this time, closer to his underarms, watching his facial expressions.

Harley yelped, recoiling from his boss, huffing as he stood in front of his office couch, crossing his arms defensively. "Don't do that again."

Leith snorted, shaking his head. "I didn't know you had the tickles."

"If you speak a word to ANYONE, I'll encourage everyone to ignore those signs you put up."

Leith pouted, stepping closer. "Don't be mean, I'll have a heart attack."

Harley rolled his eyes again, keeping his composure. The other man continued his advances, his gaze fixated on the doctor, eyeing him up and down. He knew how guarded he could be, displaying confidence and firmness. Those dark brown eyes were always serious and clinical, no room for softness, as if Harley's reputation couldn't afford weakness.

This was what greatly intrigued Leith. There was more to this man, and he had never felt such a pull to anyone before. He was uncertain whether this was a passing fancy or a new obsession that was developing, but if anyone was going to solve Harley Sawyer first, it was going to be him.

"You can be vulnerable with me," he murmured, his hand roaming over the doctor's chest, his touch almost delicate.

"You insufferable fool," Harley growled. He squirmed from his touch, his face in a sight grimace.

Leith simply watched the doctor struggle to stay nonchalant before he smirked deviously, his fingers jabbing into his underarms.

The reaction was instant. He squeaked, hands gripping Leith's chest to try push him away, both men scuffling with each other backwards.

"You're agh such a haha child Pierre-!," Harley strained out between small laughs, yanking his polka dot tie.

Leith was about to respond, until Harley's heels hit the couch behind him, inducing him to lose balance. Time seemed to stop for a moment. Leith attempted to stay upright, but unfortunately, the doctor had a firm hold on his tie, dropping the larger man onto him.

Leith grunted, landing on top of Harley on the couch, his hands on either side of the scientist, saving him from being crushed. An awkward few seconds of silence go by, save for the ragged breathing of the two, blue meeting brown.

"Harley I-"

He's interrupted by a kiss, his body going rigid in disbelief before his hands slip under Harley's body, pulling him closer. The kiss becomes more desperate; this was something he never thought would ever happen, and he clung onto the feeling like a man starved.

Harley's arms wrapped around his neck, keeping his grip on Leith, and then he pulls back, taking a deep breath, his glasses fogged up, clearing his throat. "Get out of my office Pierre."

Leith chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that the best I'm gonna get ?"

"A moment of weakness," the doctor grumbled. "I have work to do."

"You can do me..."

"Leith !"

[sweettoothbadger]

Day 2

Mirage x reader

Have anybody say a few months ago that you'll be head over heals in love with an alien bot creature, you would laugh (and call the hych yard on them). Had it happened and you would say that this person is crazy ad move on forgetting about it next Monday. And even there was such a possibility, you defentely would not be crushing on the smaggest fratboy of the bunch. Or what was the point in avoiding all those traps in university only to end up in one set by the spoiled mechanical giant.

Yet here you are, face to face (though more like face to peds) with a silvery-blue cybertronian who is yet again trying to foist you some kind of alien substance.l

-Take it, c'mon don't leave a good mech stranded.

Mirage bended slightly movingg his servos closer to your tiny frame. Some really bright poisonous-coloured object, slightly reminding you of a small star was .... Yep, definetely deadly for you.

-Listen, er, Mirage... I don't think that it's safe for me to even be near this stuff... no matter what is it even.

-Please, ..., you have no idea what I promissed Hound for it! Why don't you take it?

-Raj, it's not that-

-So you do really hate me, ha?

-I..-What?

You finally looked away from the alien object to lift your eyes to meet his. For a second, you thought you did not hear him correctly, but the crustfalled expression on the hooligan showed that he said exactly what you thought he did.

-Raj, I like you very much, actually. It's just that I am more than sure that this thing is even more dangerous for me than those cubes of energon you showed us. Remember?

The bot did not know where too look, too caught up in the sence of overwhelming foolishness and embarrecement.

-I mean... C'mon, give your bot a break! You humans are just unnececcery tricky all the times! How should I know that?!

Is was almost too entertaining to see him skrimish. Always so cocky.

-Oh? Are you now ''my bot''? My-my...

He sputtered but in a second was face to face with you. Bright optics filled with some kind of strange fondness and speks of mischief. He was practically purring: - Well, of course, my meteor. Always.

You felt as your whole body overheating from a rizing temperature, suddenly shy and unable to meet his gaze. That made the culprit of your misery smirk smugly. Oh, this damn smirk. You were tempted to say you hate it, but even on the inside, you could not bring yourself to. Damn, you were deep in.