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#they both look really good too whew
gurenmonster · 2 months
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Rewatched this video...
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theemissuniverse · 6 months
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ARE THEY SLAPPING YOUR ASS OR ARE THEY KISSING YOUR FOREHEAD? MK MALE CHARACTERS
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SUMMARY : I think the title is self explanatory
A/N: I just thought it was funny lmao
WARNINGS : (MDNI) mentions of intimacy
MASTERLIST
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MORTAL KOMBAT 1 CHARACTERS
Liu Kang is definitely kissing your forehead. He finds the simple kiss to be more intimate than anything. But if you’re into him slapping your ass, he’ll definitely do it. He just doesn’t understand how that’s a sign for affection. (It’s funny because he’s technically an Earthrealmer himself but he still does not understand mortal customs of showing affection.)
Kissing your forehead: “I love you so much, my love.”
Slapping your ass: “You’re playing with fire, love.”
Raiden would very much want to slap your ass but he’s way too shy to do that with you so he’ll settle with kissing your forehead. Raiden has been caught staring at your ass several times and when you point it out to him, he smiles embarrassed and mumbles a “I’m sorry.” It is very rare Raiden will slap your ass and when he does it’s a soft but efficient smack.
Kissing your forehead: “How are you doing, beautiful?”
Slapping your ass: “Okay. I liked doing it. Stop asking me now.”
Johnny Cage is one hundred percent slapping your ass. Without question. 24/7. 365. All day. Every day. It’s literally his sign for affection. He doesn’t have a problem with kissing you on the forehead but that’s when he’s feeling more sappy.
Kissing your forehead: “Aw does my big baby want a kiss?”
Slapping your ass: “Whew! I’m never getting tired of that.”
Kung Lao is hitting you with a combo. He’ll definitely come up to you and give you the biggest kiss on the forehead before then slapping your ass. Sometimes it catches you off guard (even though it really shouldn’t at this point) and he’ll just laugh at you.
Kissing your forehead: “You look so good.”
Slapping your ass: “But this looks even better.”
Kenshi Takahashi is doing both. He loves touching all over your body. (Especially if he is blind.) So, he’ll settle for any type of touch that can show you his affection towards you. He wished he wasn’t blind though so when he does slap your ass he can see the recoil.
Kissing your forehead: “My love is always strong with you.”
Slapping your ass: “You’re so naughty.”
Bi-Han is not a physical person by any means. So, that means he’s really not doing either. If he’s in an emotional mood or if you’re in one, he’ll kiss your head. Sometimes on rare days when Bi-Han is in a playful mood, he’ll slap your ass playfully but he really doesn’t show his love through physical affection.
Kissing your forehead: “Do you need something?”
Slapping your ass: “Don’t get use to that.”
Syzoth does not understand the mortal custom of slapping your ass as a sign of affection but he quickly catches on. In fact, he likes it more than kissing your forehead but he’ll always save room for kissing your forehead. He likes to call them “love taps.”
Kissing your forehead: “What do you want to do today, my love?”
Slapping your ass: “You look so good when you bend over like that.”
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MORTAL KOMBAT 11 CHARACTERS
Shao Kahn is most definitely slapping your ass without question. He loves it. He has to be careful when he does it though because his hands are far bigger than what you’re used to. Sometimes when you’re in an emotional mood, Shao Kahn will kiss you on the forehead but he mostly slaps your ass to show his affection.
Kissing your forehead: “You need to rest, my Empress.”
Slapping your ass: “All of this is mine.”
Hanzo Hasashi doesn’t really get the point of it at first but he does catch on rather quick. He’ll slap it through out the day and kiss your forehead and neck while doing it. But mainly when he does it, he’s trying to get intimate with you.
Kissing your forehead: “Nobody is more gorgeous than you.”
Slapping your ass: “Do you want to take this to the bedroom?”
Nightwolf is kissing your forehead. He doesn’t understand how slapping your ass is a sign of affection in the slightest. In fact, he’ll look at men weird for doing it to their significant others and you can’t help but laugh at his reaction every time. If you like it though, he’ll do it.
Kissing your forehead: “My love.”
Slapping your ass: “I still don’t understand why you’re into that.”
Kano will always do it with no shame. He doesn’t care if you’re in private or around people. He’s doing it. He loves watching you simply bend over and when you bend over, he’s right on top of you. He’ll kiss your forehead when he feels tired or sleepy though.
Kissing your forehead: “Goodmorning, love.”
Slapping your ass: “Damn, baby. Just how I like to start my day.”
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MORTAL KOMBAT X CHARACTERS
Takeda Takahashi mainly likes slapping your ass but he’ll also kiss your forehead. Usually he’s very playful and just slaps it. Sometimes he’ll just slap it out of nowhere which catches you off guard. He’ll kiss your forehead though but it’s like a million kisses on the forehead.
Kissing your forehead: “You’re so pretty.”
Slapping your ass: “I can’t help that it’s staring at me.”
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MORTAL KOMBAT 9 CHARACTERS
Cyrax likes to slap your ass but it’s quick and it’s more of a form of goodbye. But when you’re intimate, be prepared to get it smacked repeatedly. He’ll kiss your forehead as a sorry for maybe how hard he’s smacking it but he really likes to.
Kissing your forehead: “Did I do it too rough?”
Slapping your ass: “God, you look so good.”
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futureman · 9 months
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switching the positions
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food
word count: 16.2k
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moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡
a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!
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SUNDAY
"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."
“She’s gonna hate me.”
“She’s not gonna hate you.”
Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 
Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.
“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.
“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.
“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 
He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.
“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”
Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—
“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 
“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 
You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.
“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”
He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 
So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.
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MONDAY
"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."
It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.
You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 
Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.
Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—
And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 
It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 
“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.
His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.
You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.
Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 
But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 
“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 
The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 
“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.
“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”
Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.
“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.
"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.
"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"
You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 
The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.
Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.
You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.
"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."
He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.
Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 
You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.
"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."
"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."
So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.
Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—
Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.
"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."
A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 
"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.
"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—
The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.
"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."
You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.
Neither of you makes it to work on time.
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TUESDAY
"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."
The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.
You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.
“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.
“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.
“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”
“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.
“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.
“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 
It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 
“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 
It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 
You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 
“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.
“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 
…Wait. She’s leaving?
“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”
“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”
You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 
“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 
And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.
You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?
Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.
Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 
Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.
The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.
There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 
Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.
Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.
You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 
You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 
“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”
Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 
Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.
And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.
“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”
He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 
“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.
“Good. It’s dinner time.”
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WEDNESDAY
"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."
Spin class sucks.
There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.
It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 
It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 
But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.
No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 
There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.
The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 
It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.
Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.
Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 
What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 
Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 
That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.
The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 
Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 
You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.
"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"
You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 
On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.
It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.
“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."
Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 
You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.
Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.
"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"
His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 
Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.
Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.
"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."
And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 
Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 
Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—
But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.
"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"
Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.
"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.
You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.
"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.
"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.
"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.
"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 
Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 
You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.
All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—
But he's got one last edge left in him. 
You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.
He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.
"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 
Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 
But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.
You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.
"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 
You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 
Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?
But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 
Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.
“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."
You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?
"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.
He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.
"Wanna explain what all of that was?"
"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."
"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 
You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.
"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"
"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 
But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.
"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.
"That's okay. We won't need one."
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THURSDAY
"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"
Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.
You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.
How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.
Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.
It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 
Two blue lines. Pregnant.
You knew this week was going a little too well. 
Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.
Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 
Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 
It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.
There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.
Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 
You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 
Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 
Fuck.
Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.
But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 
Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?
No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.
If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 
Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.
So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 
Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.
“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”
She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 
“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”
“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”
The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.
Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.
It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  
"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"
Yeah, you could say that.
You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.
"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 
His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 
Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 
That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.
Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.
But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.
His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.
His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.
“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."
Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 
But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.
“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.
“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”
Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.
The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.
“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 
“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”
“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 
Together. You’re in this together.
“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”
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FRIDAY
"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."
Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.
You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 
“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 
You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.
Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 
Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 
You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 
Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 
Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 
Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 
You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.
Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.
Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.
“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 
But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 
“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”
You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 
“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.
“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 
Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 
You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 
Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.
But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.
“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”
You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.
“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”
“Whatever you want, baby."
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Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 
Now, you want something else. 
You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 
His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 
Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.
"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."
Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 
Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 
He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.
Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 
"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 
There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.
"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"
The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.
"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"
You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.
"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."
"Deal," he says without hesitation.
"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 
He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.
"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."
Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.
"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 
You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.
Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 
"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."
Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 
Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 
Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 
"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"
You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—
Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 
"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.
What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 
And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.
Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 
He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.
"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.
"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."
"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."
He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.
"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."
But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.
"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.
You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 
"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 
You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 
"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 
Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.
His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 
So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.
"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.
"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."
Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 
"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."
Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 
Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.
“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 
It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.
But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.
"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.
Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.
Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.
And still so mouthy.
“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”
"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 
It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.
"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."
Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 
His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.
“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”
“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 
Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.
“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”
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SATURDAY
"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."
You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.
And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.
Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 
He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 
That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.
But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.
He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.
His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 
Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 
"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 
"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"
You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 
Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.
"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.
"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 
"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 
"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."
Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.
"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"
And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.
God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.
Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.
"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  
Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 
You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 
He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 
But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.
You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.
“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"
Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.
“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”
Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.
Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.
Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 
His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 
The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 
And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 
You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.
"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."
How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.
Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 
But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.
Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 
And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 
Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.
Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.
“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”
It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.
At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.
His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 
Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 
Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.
Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.
“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 
Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.
"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 
His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.
"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.
It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 
“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 
You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.
“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”
He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.
You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 
When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 
Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.
Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.
Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.
He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 
After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.
"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."
The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 
You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.
Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 
"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."
He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.
“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."
You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.
Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.
"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"
Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 
His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 
Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.
You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 
And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.
You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 
It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.
"Yeah, I do."
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thanks for reading! 💕
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choisanboobenthusiast · 7 months
Text
Princess part two
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Pairing: sub!mingi x fem reader
Genre: smut MDNI
Word count: 3.7k
Summary: you and Mingi finally do the deed and well, a few others things...
Warnings: this is filthy, established relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), begging begging begging, pet names, slight spit play, spit used as lube (just for a second), choking, anal fingering (our princess receiving), creampie, overstimulation, crying... I think that's it whew!
a/n: wow thank you guys SO MUCH for all the love on part one, I really wasn't sure what to expect upon posting it. I hope part two does it justice. Thank you guys for reading and liking and reblogging and commenting, it all means so much as I work really hard on these. Anyways, happy reading friends! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Part One
"I swore..." Mingi sighed defeatedly. "I swore I had one in there."
Mingi had been nervously shuffling around in his nightstand drawer searching for a condom, but not having much luck while you lied beside him, your naked body pressed to his muscular back. You threw your leg over his thigh, tracing little shapes into his skin and giving his head tiny scratches right where his hair met his nape. Mingi loved being little spoon, loved being wrapped up in you and for once feeling a bit smaller than the near giant he was. But at the moment, instead of being able to just enjoy the warmth of your body heat in total innocence, all your slight touches on his skin, the feeling of your leg over his own, your hard nipples grazing his back casually every once in a while were causing him to quickly grow hard again.
He shut the bedside table drawer, a bit forcefully, and huffed out. Disappointed that he couldn't find what he was looking for as the insatiable need to be inside you took over him. "Sorry... I don't have one."
"Hmmm." You pouted, placing languid kisses across his shoulder and neck, letting your hand wander over the expanse of his stomach and venture up towards his chest. "Mingi, baby, we can just do it without one."
"R-really?" If he'd had cat ears they would have perked up in excitement.
"If you're okay with it." Your hand found it's way in between his pecs, fingers dancing lightly over his sweaty skin. "I trust you."
He nodded. "I trust you, too."
"And you're absolutely sure you wanna do this?"
"So fucking sure." He answered. "Like very, very sure."
You smiled, kissed his neck lazily and nibbled at his earlobe while the hand on his chest grazed gently over one of his nipples. You let your finger circle over it slowly and he took a shaky breath. "My good boy can't wait to be inside me, can he?"
"No, can't wait." He sighed out. Just like that, he had snapped back into the same headspace he had previously been in and you were more than willing to take the reigns.
"You're my good boy, right Mingi?" You pinched his nipple lightly, the action eliciting a tiny moan from his lips.
"I-I'm your good boy."
You let your hand travel down his torso before taking his aching cock back into your hand, slowly pumping up and down. Mingi shuddered under your touch, his own hand going to rest on your wrist as he groaned.
"How do you want to do this? What position?"
"I don't care." He choked out. "Whatever you wanna do, I don't care."
You quickly switched your position, leaving your spot behind him, pressing on his shoulder to make him lie on his back. You continued stroking him slowly as you straddled his thighs again, relishing in the way his muscles tensed and his eyebrows scrunched. His hands splayed over both your thighs, rubbing into your flesh gently. He looked at you then with a bit of desperation, not having to say anything at all for you to know that he need more than your hands. You let go of his cock and shuffled upwards, placing your wet pussy on top of his member but not moving just yet. His hips jerked just slightly at the contact and his fingers dug into your skin for a moment. You began to slowly move your hips back and forth, resting your hands on his chest while you covered his dick in your slick. He moved easily in between your folds due to how soaked you were from sucking him off. You couldn't believe how big he felt like this, moving through your wetness, the head of his cock bumping into your clit with every one of your movements, you began to wonder how he was going to fit inside of you at all.
Beneath you Mingi was close to losing all composure, his face flushed and sweaty, his hands grasping at you as you ground into him. He couldn't believe how sexy you looked like this and he couldn't believe how much he loved it when you controlled him. He could do nothing to stifle the whimpers that continued to fall from his mouth, not that he wanted to anyways. He enjoyed making those sounds for you, he could tell you liked the way his voice sounded when it came out strained and he wanted nothing more than to continue to please you.
Above him you were quickly becoming breathless, the need within you building relentlessly as you continued to rub yourself over him, your pace increasing. The way he sounded, the way he looked, the way he felt, god you were so lost in him, and you loved it. You were driving yourself to the edge, seeing how far you could push yourself before the ache became too much and paying close attention to how far you were pushing Mingi as well. He was getting more restless, his back arching just slightly off the bed as he pushed his hips up to meet your thrusts in the middle, his body practically begging for you to impale yourself on his cock already. When you tweaked both his nipples his mouth fell open as he released a sound that was nearly a cry and he started to beg.
"Please, f-fuck-" His voice caught in his throat when you pinched particularly hard. "N-need ugh need you, please. Fuck, this feels so good, you're so wet. Fuck me, please just fuck me." He was whining and babbling, begging so nice for you.
"Baby boy, you sound so pretty." You complimented, taking your hands from his chest, leaving his nipples hard and red as his chest heaved. "Want me to fuck you so bad, huh?"
"Yes." His pretty brown eyes pleaded with you as his hands ran up and down your sides, detouring to your chest where he absentmindedly played with your nipples before cupping and squeezing the flesh of your breasts. "Want it, please."
You leant over him and kissed him with need, entangling your tongue with his as he continued to massage your chest, the movement of your hips never ceasing. You stroked Mingi's hair and face, breaking the kiss to stare at him. You had never seen Mingi look so fucked out before and you hadn't even fucked yet. "Mingi, baby." You said sweetly, staring into his eyes. "Are you okay to keep going?"
He nodded and snaked his arms around you, pulling you flush with his chest. "I'm good." He smiled. "I am so fucking good." He nuzzled into your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin before he whispered shyly in your ear. "I want... you to use me."
"Oh, is that right?" You were trying your best to sound intimidating despite the way your heart was jumping around inside your chest. "Want me to sit on this pretty cock?" You ground into him aggressively as he whined and nodded his head. "Ask me nicely, just one more time, and I'll give you what you want baby."
"Please." He complied immediately. "Please, wanna make you feel good. Fuck yourself on me, use me however you want, I'm yours."
You sat back up and hovered just slightly above him, taking his cock in your hand, feeling your slick covering him completely. He was already throbbing from the stimulation you'd given him and you guessed he might not last very long once inside. You rubbed the head of his cock in between your lips, applying extra pressure with your hips when it met with your clit. You did this a few times, the first of a few things you did to grant his wish to use him. Finally, you lined him up with your entrance, sinking yourself over just his head which slid in easily. He gasped and squeezed your thighs harshly, the muscles in his abdomen tensing noticeably.
"Just relax." You cooed, gently caressing one of his arms with your free hand. The sentiment served as a reminder to yourself as well, knowing it might be a little bit of a struggle to take all of him inside you.
You began to lower yourself further, slowly taking him in, inch by inch. Your hands braced on his little waist as he filled you and your eyes closed in pleasure at the stretch. It seemed to take forever, your pussy pulsing around him the further you took him in, your heart beating faster. He felt so good inside you, so big, and you felt full to the fucking brim when your pelvis finally met with his, at which point you were both a mess. The sensation of finally being inside you, fully seated, nearly made Mingi cum right on the spot. But he wanted you to fuck him, so he put every ounce of control he possessed into keeping himself from busting immediately. That didn't mean he was composed though, actually quite the opposite. As soon as your hips met he let out a long and low groan and his hands couldn't seem to find a resting point, wandering aimlessly over your body.
You started slow, pulling yourself up off of him nearly all the way before lowering your body down again. The second time he bottomed out an even more sinful noise escaped his throat and he pressed his head back into the pillow beneath him. You repeated your actions several more times, completely enthralled with the way he sounded and basking in the pleasure of taking him in over and over again. Eventually his hands came to rest on your hips, urging you to move just a little faster. You obliged, picking up your pace slightly, watching his face contort with euphoria.
"There you go, princess." You said breathlessly, watching his face go red at the nickname. "Just let go. Does it feel good, baby?"
"Mmm." He whined. "You're so uhhng s-so tight. Am I- do I feel good?"
"Mingi, you're perfect." You sighed, increasing you pace even more. You leant over him slightly, your hand slithering up to his neck where you gave it an experimental squeeze. His eyes seemed to glimmer at the action. You kept your hand there as you began to fuck him harder, pulling groan after groan from him as you squeezed his throat gently, applying a little more pressure occasionally. As you continued to bounce on him you slowly trailed your hand further up his neck, then to his cheek, brushing your fingers over his pink skin and then tracing the plush of his lips. His mouth already hung open, as if it were inviting your fingers in. With a little hesitation you slipped your pointer and middle finger past his bottom lip and as if he could sense your apprehension, he swiped the tip of his tongue over your fingertips. You pushed your fingers the rest of the way into his mouth, sliding them over his tongue and pushing them back. He closed his lips around your digits, sucking on them gently, basking in the saltiness of your skin as his tongue swirled over your fingers.
You were riding him like a bull, fucking his mouth with your fingers and grasping at his shoulder harshly with your other hand. His voice was muffled by your fingers stuffed in his mouth but the sounds he made weren't any less heavenly. You fell forward onto his chest, your hips slowing slightly as you focused on the brush of your clit against his pubes. You removed your fingers from his mouth, tracing over his glistening lips as he parted them. He tugged on your hair and pulled you in for a messy open mouthed kiss, all spit and tongue.
Despite thoroughly enjoying your time on top and the way you got to take control of him, your body was beginning to tire in this position. You needed a break. You pulled back from him just slightly, your lips brushing over his as you spoke. "You on top now, Min. Don't pull out." He nodded and kissed you once more before returning his arms to their previous place around your middle. He held you tightly to him, grunting lowly as he maneuvered your connected bodies, making sure to grant your request to stay inside you as he did so. Your arms naturally found their way around his shoulders and once beneath him you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him and running your fingers down his collarbone and over his chest. He propped himself up on his elbows, resting them on either side of your head while your hands stroked his back lovingly.
"You're gonna fuck me now. I want it hard and fast, Mingi, do you think you can do that for me?"
"Yes." He nodded quickly and dipped his head down to kiss along your jaw, moving slowly to your neck as he began to drag his dick in and out of you. "Anything for you."
Soon enough he was rutting into you fervently, groaning and huffing with every snap of his hips. The angle he had you in caused him to hit deeper within you than he had before and you dug your nails into the skin of his back to try to stay grounded, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He was a sweaty, moaning mess, as were you and you couldn't believe he had lasted this long. The fact that he came earlier was probably helping a lot. Your skin stuck together and the sound of his balls slapping into you echoed around the room as he continually reentered you. You reached down and squeezed his plump ass, urging him to fuck you as deep as he could. Then you had an idea, one that you weren't completely sure about but you knew he would tell you to stop if he was uncomfortable.
You slowly inched your dominant hand inward, waiting for any sign of disapproval or discomfort and when met with none you slipped your hand gently in between his cheeks, your middle finger just barely stroking at his entrance. He let out a choked whimper and his hips stuttered but he looked at you and nodded, giving you permission to continue. With his mouth agape and eyebrows knit together you brought your pointer and middle finger back to his mouth.
"Get them nice and wet for me."
You didn't have to ask him twice, his mouth chasing after your digits. He slobbered all over them, soaking them in his saliva, all while trying to keep a steady pace with his hips though it faltered somewhat. After what seemed like a sufficient amount of wetness covered your fingers, you carefully removed them from his mouth and brought them back down to his ass. With your other hand still resting on his ass cheek you pulled slightly to allow yourself better access to his hole. You rubbed the tips of your fingers over his entrance in a circular motion before very gently pushing the tip of your middle finger past his rim. One knuckle deep and his movements ceased completely, his head falling forward beside yours as he nuzzled into your hair.
"Don't be nervous, okay? I'm gonna be very gentle with you." You thought for a moment as he nodded slightly. "Do you have lube, Mingi? It'll feel a lot better that way." He nodded again and you carefully removed your finger. He stretched his arm to the bedside table, luckily still in reach even while he was fully sheathed inside you, and opened the drawer. He found the little bottle quickly and passed it to you. You squirted a generous amount in your hand and rubbed it over his hole before adding some extra to your fingers for good measure. You positioned your middle finger back at his entrance, circling it gently. "Once I'm inside I want you to start moving again, but just relax for now, okay?"
"O-okay." He breathed.
You knew you were pushing him, you weren't sure if he'd be able to actually follow through but you knew he'd try. "Have you done this before?" You asked.
"No."
"It'll feel good, I promise."
He breathed right into your ear as you pushed your finger past his rim again. It sunk in easily thanks to the lube and you began to work your finger in further.
"H-holy fuck." Mingi stuttered, his voice as high pitched as you'd ever heard it.
"Yeah? Feels good, baby?" Just as you did before you grasped at his cheek, opening him up for you as your finger slowly went deeper. "You can take the whole thing right? Two maybe?"
"Mm-mhm." His whining was nearly endless, tiny little sounds seeming to escape him with every breath.
You prodded at his entrance with your pointer finger, carefully and slowly working it in next to the other. He gasped upon the intrusion and wound a hand into your hair, those sinfully angelic sounds still being spoken directly into your ear. "Doing such a good job, Mingi." You praised. "Just a little more."
"It's s-s-so, I feel, hah o-oh-" He groaned loudly as you got deeper, the feeling of his previously untouched hole being stretched and filled giving him a whole new sense of euphoria. He felt like he couldn't breathe or speak or think. The only thoughts in his mind were of how it felt to be balls deep in your soaking cunt while your fingers filled him. But he remembered what you said, that he was to move again once your fingers were inside and shit, he was going to try. He used whatever strength he had left to drag his dick out of you before shoving himself back inside. He continued, trying his best to pick up the pace a little.
"Fuck yes, Mingi." You moaned, your fingers fully sheathed in his tight hole. "Such a good boy."
This seemed to egg him on and he moved his hips faster, which caused your fingers to move in and out of him at the same pace with which he was fucking you. "Ah! I'm gonna, gonna cum!" He announced suddenly. 
"Come on, baby, cum for me." You plunged your fingers as deep as they could go and it sent him toppling over the edge with a cry of your name. He looked like a god, with his mouth agape, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, eyes shut tightly. You were so close to cumming too and nearly did at just the sight of him. His hips bucked into you aggressively, his dick hitting so deep within you, you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He thrust into you a few more times, pumping his cum deep inside you as your walls clenched unforgivingly around him and his entire body shook above you. With the last few strokes of his cock you could feel his release being pushed out of you, dripping down your ass and staining the sheets. Finally, his hips stilled and you noticed he was gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white. 
You slowly removed your fingers, gently massaging his ass as he started to come down. But you weren't finished. "Make me cum, Mingi." You ground your hips upward. "I'm so close, Min." You were trying to sound demanding but it almost sounding like you were begging. You did your best to regain your composure. "Don't stop fucking me."
"But I-" You bucked your hips up at his protest and he whimpered loudly. "I- okay." 
He did as you said, starting very slowly, battling the overstimulation. With every stroke he choked out broken moans but he didn't stop. He picked up the pace, fucking you hard and fast like you said you wanted. You dipped your hand in between the two of you to rub your clit, knowing it would only be moments before you were climaxing. At this point he was an absolute fucked out mess, shaking and whining and... crying? Oh, Mingi was crying. At first you were worried but when he moaned in between his little sobs and mewled into your ear before kissing you messily just below it, your worries disappeared. 
"Just a- unghhh just a little more for me." You could feel your orgasm building, the coil within you wrapping up tighter and tighter with each passing second. The way his huge cock split you open and drug against your walls had you reeling. You weren't sure if he knew it or not, but with every one of his thrusts his cockhead punched into your g-spot.
"Please, want you to cum." He muttered, tears still falling from his eyes. "Cum on my cock, please baby. Need you to cum."
The way he begged you to cum had you doing so almost immediately. Your pussy clenched hard around him as the pleasure radiated throughout your body, your muscles tensing as you shook and moaned and clawed at his back. Mingi cried out as well, the feeling of his sensitive cock being overstimulated even further only caused him to shed more tears. But he helped you ride out your orgasm, despite feeling totally overwhelmed. Soon enough your body went limp beneath him and you stroked his back gently as he sniffled, still buried within you. 
"Mingi." You breathed, chest heaving still as you brought your hands to cup his face. "You okay, baby?"
He nodded shyly, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face into your palm while you swiped at his tears. "I'm really good." He confessed, pecking you sweetly on the lips. "You're so good."
You giggled a little and hummed. "Mmm, you're so good too, Min."
He pulled his softening dick from inside you, both of you shuddering a bit at the feeling, and collapsed on the bed beside you, half his body still atop yours. He had stopped crying and you ran your fingers through his hair, earning yourself a satisfied smile while he traced his own fingers over you arm. You lied there silently for a little while, just enjoying the calm and quiet as you touched each other lovingly. 
Soon after, you showered together, all the while Mingi peppered you with kisses and cuddled you close to him. It was playful and loving and probably one of the longest showers you'd ever taken. After showering you returned to what you had been watching, snuggling up on the couch together under a blanket, downing some water and thanking yourself for picking up some extra snacks on the way over. You dozed off at some point, with your head on his chest and his heartbeat in your ear, fully content to be wrapped up in his big warm arms again.
taglist: @slid3er @minkysmilk @solarstoy
1K notes · View notes
bergandysam · 9 months
Text
Kim Seokjin Fic Recs
‼️18+ minors DNI, if you choose to anyways, PLEASE be careful. try to heed our warnings, we have them for a reason‼️
More Recs Here
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he’s insanely good looking your honour
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harunayuuka2060 · 3 months
Text
Ruggie: Yo, MC! Long time no see! *feeling a bit nervous*
MC: *looking sternly at him* It's been a while, Ruggie.
Ruggie: So... Is that Prince Liora? Gosh. He does really look like Leona.
Baby Liora: *smiles at Ruggie*
MC: I assume that Falena sent you here to ask for my permission?
Ruggie: Whew! You just saved me time by saying it! Shishishi!
MC: ...
MC: Hm. Liora is too young to be sent alone to Sunset Savannah.
MC: Drag Leona with you and make sure to return my son to me.
Ruggie: Eh? Are you not going?
MC: Why would I do that?
Ruggie: Er... You're the one who gave birth to Prince Liora.
Ruggie: I think it wouldn't be fair to leave you here.
MC: Are you asking me to go back to that place so I could hear the rumors about how I cheated on Leona and the sudden birth of Liora?
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Those cheating rumors have already stopped. Though, yeah, you might be right about the latter.
Ruggie: However, *grins* isn't Prince Liora's face enough evidence that Leona is the dad?
MC: ...
MC: *smiles*
Ruggie: Did I succeed in convincing you?
MC: Yes.
Ruggie: *sigh* I wish Leona was as talented as me when it comes to situations like this. Seriously, what has he been doing?
Leona: *standing behind him* Taking care of my baby.
Ruggie: Gah! L-Leona?
MC: I hate to admit it, but he has been sleep-deprived because of Liora.
Ruggie: Oh...
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: BWAHAHAHAHA!
Kalim: Really?! You're going back to Sunset Savannah?!
MC: Yes, my lord. But worry not, I'll make sure to return-
Kalim: It's okay if you don't come back for a year! Or even two years!
Kalim: Or even three years-
Jamil: Kalim.
MC: ...
MC: Are you subtly dismissing me from service, my lord?
Kalim: Nononono! Of course not! I just want you to enjoy your time with your family!
MC: ...
MC: As I was saying, I would be sure to be back.
Cheka: Mama! Papa! MC, Unca, and Lili will be arriving here at the Royal Palace! Yay!!!!
Falena and his wife: *lets out a sigh of relief*
Falena: It was a good thing that we sent Ruggie to convince MC.
His wife: *nods*
Cheka: Papa! Papa! Let me welcome them at the entrance!
Falena: Go ahead, Cheka.
Baby Liora: *giggles at everything he sees*
MC: ...
MC: You look stupid right now, Leona.
Leona: *who refused to let Ruggie carry their stuff*
Leona: Tch. Leave me be.
Ruggie: Yeah. Shishishi! He just wants to show that you can depend on him.
Leona: Quiet.
"MC?!!"
Ruggie: Eh? Who is that- *turns to look behind them*
MC's sister: YOU'RE BACK?!!
MC: ...
MC: Ruggie, continue walking.
Ruggie: Oh, right. Sorry-
MC's sister: Don't you ignore me! You said you would never come back!
MC's sister: And I'm just on my way to the Royal Palace because father sent me to become Prince Leona's bride!
Leona: THE HELL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT?!
MC's sister: P-Prince Leona?
MC: ...
MC: Huh. Congratulations to both of you then. *hands Baby Liora to Ruggie and gets their stuff from Leona*
Leona: What-
MC: Follow us when you're done. *then walks away*
Ruggie: *tries to avoid getting in trouble, immediately follows after them*
Leona: ...
Leona: I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS! HEY!
MC's sister: P-Prince Leona-
Leona: Shut up! I'm a married man! *runs after MC*
MC's sister: ...
MC's sister: *yells* I WILL TELL FATHER ABOUT THIS!
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#389
This is a direct follow up to Story #387
“Well, hello there shithead.  So, you finally get to serve me outside some disgusting bookstore theater.  I hope you are ready to get really nasty. Get on your fucking knees pig and sniff my foot…. 
“Take a deep whiff!  I’ve been on my motorcycle for two whole days.  Haven’t had a shower in that time.  So I can’t imagine those dogs are fresh.
“Hey!  No one told you to start licking.  But since you started, you may continue.  You know, when I come over here, you will always start with my feet.  I want a foot massage at the same time as you are slurping on my toes.  The one thing I allow my pigs to do to me without permission is taking care of my feet: licking, sucking, cleaning, scraping, chewing, and so on.
“Don’t look at me like that.  You want to be an intern for the executive team, you got to do what’s expected.  Foot worship includes foot care.  In fact feel my heel for callouses.  Dry hunh?  I want you to scrape them off….  Use your teeth.
“Wait you think that’s nasty?  Aren’t you the one who seeks me out at Ruby’s bookstore and beg me to use you?  And how do I do that?  By forcing you to take random cock after random cock in your pussy, and then making you clean them off after they dump a load in you.  And I hold your head while those same blue-collar tradesmen bend over you clean out their ass cracks.  You drank my piss.  You are a pig through and through.  And you balk at this?  Shithead, please.
“You do as you are told.  That electrified collar around your neck is there for a reason.  While I don’t get into the pain thing like Ben and Lloyd do.  I will use it to get what I want.  You got that.  The four of us executives have our own thing when it comes to using shitheads like you, but we all believe that you need to be trained to do it all.  I’m here today to see how much of a pig we both know you to be.  One of those things includes eating the dead skin off my feet.
“Normally foot service is the beginning of giving me a tongue bath, but that will have to wait for now.  I need to take a piss. 
“Sit back on your heels.  Help me with my sweatpants.  Whew!  Smell that?  That’s my jockstrap.  I have worn it for a week now. 
“What are you doing?  Don’t discard my sweats in some heap.  Pick them up.  Now, sniff my crotch.  Inhale the nastiness.  You always sniff my crotch anytime you remove pants or underwear, or jock.  And’s not just me, but do that to Bryce, Lloyd, and Ben.  You should be able to tell the four of us apart from our crotch and ass smells. 
“Now sniff the ass too.  Even if there’s skid marks, sniff it.  My socks, you sniff.  My jock, you sniff.  My shirt, you sniff.  Then you fold it, and respectfully put it down. 
“Here’s my shirt.  It’s full of dried sweat and armpit stink.  I’m going to leave it with you so you can smell me when I’m not here.  Rub it on your face, especially the arm pit area.  Smelling my own pit gets me rock hard.  I love my stink.  One thing you need to know, and don’t ever fuck this up.  While you are expected to give me a tongue bath, you will never lick my pits.  I don’t want some piss drinking pig to contaminate my smell with his licking.  Rather I want you rub your face in there. 
“Here, get in here.  Rub your fucking toilet face in my pit.  Feel my oily sweat coat your nose, your mouth, your cheeks, everything….  Yeah pig.  Now the other side.  Get it in good.  You can use your lips, but no licking.
“You are going to stink!  But it’s my stink.  And that is everything.  Pull back, leave some for me to enjoy.
“As I said earlier, I got to piss.  Let’s go into the bathroom.
“Kneel in the middle.  Lloyd made sure that this bathroom was large enough for some serious fun.  Bury your face in my jock.  Oh yeah.  Like that. 
“You ready to drink me?  You did that a couple times in the bookstore’s theater in front of those hard-working men.  I don’t think the bookstore liked cleaning up the piss.  Oh well. 
“Put the bottom of my bulge in your mouth.  Feel my cockhead under the jockstrap pouch?  Tastes nasty hunh?  Just wait.
“…Ahhh!  Drink all you can pig as it comes through my rank jock.  You get the extra benefit of the week-old stale piss being reconstituted. 
“Get that mouth back where it belongs.  I know it tastes nasty.  That’s what I want.  But keep drinking.  I don’t give a shit that it’s going all over the place.  You can clean it up afterwards.  I see you want to gag.  Don’t you dare. 
“Focus on the task at hand.  Piss drinking should be second nature to you.  If not, it will be.  If you are retching at this, then the next thing is really going to make you hurl.  I got to take a dump.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!  The terror on your face tells me everything and is getting me hard.  Now I can’t speak for Lloyd, but I don’t really get into scat.  As nasty and disgusting as I can get, it’s not my thing.  I will think about it, I will tease you about it, but I’m not into the reality of it.
“No, what I have in store is you giving me a blumpkin, you are going to give me head as I take a dump.  Over here.  Kneel in front of the toilet….
“I put my jock next to my shirt.  After I leave, I want you to wear that jock around your neck.  You can enjoy the richness of my smells when you are alone.
“Ok.  You have blown me before.  You are to do it again now.  I’m going to do my thing….  Is this your first time?...  Well, just ignore the sound and the smell.  And the taste is going to be nasty.
“Oh, look!  After two days of being in the hot sun riding on my motorcycle, my cock was very sweaty.  I developed some cheese for you.  You can probably smell it too.
“Nasty, isn’t it?  Well, your job is to clean me up.  Now crawl over here…. PIG!  Now.  I will give you a count of three.  One…
“…Well damn!  That shock knocked you to the floor….  I guess the collar works.  You want another jolt?  No, then crawl.  Pig! Crawl!
“Good pig.  You are learning.  Don’t think about it.  Just take it in your mouth and start the tonguing….  Good!  Ahh! 
“…Don’t stop sucking.  Look up at me….  Notice I don’t have the remote or my phone in my hand.  So, you might be wondering who shocked you.
“Keep in mind, there are cameras everywhere, and that collar can be triggered by accessing the controls on the internet.  Now Lloyd, being our company’s Chief Security Officer, routinely checks the system to make sure that only us four men have access.
“Bryce could have zapped you.  He likes it when his presence is felt, always reminding the pig of his control.  It could have been Ben; he likes to inflicts pain on a whim.  Or, it could have been Lloyd, who likes pain and raunch and wanted to see you cleaning off my cock.  The thing is that it wasn’t me.
“The other interesting fact is that I’m done. 
“Pull off.  Get under the rimseat.  Time for some tongue fucking and face riding….  What?  Don’t give me that look.  Toilet paper service is not scat.  It has none of what I don’t like.  Now you may think differently; I don’t care.  Besides, you’ve eaten dirty asses before.  I’ve seen the asses I had you lick at the bookstore.  I know they weren’t 100% clean.  Besides, I know what foods to eat to make using toilet paper merely a courtesy.
“Under the seat.  Good pig.
“Look up at my ass.  If you remember, this is the first thing you saw of me.  You were on your back on that platform near the screen at the bookstore’s theater with your legs up in the air getting plowed by that electrician.  I stood over you, showing my ass.  Remember what you did?  You stuck out your tongue.  I squat down on your face and your tongue went to work at that instant.  I knew you were an ass eating pig right away.
“Get that tongue going.  Oh yeah.  Good pig.  Your tongue was made for this.
“You know, after I sat on your face and used you a few times, I recognized you immediately at the company picnic a couple of months ago.  I knew you were Timothy Stone’s boy.  I pointed you out to Lloyd and Ben and they were very interested.  Lloyd said he would investigate you and your dad.  I gladly bowed out and went to the office. 
“I looked at your dad’s work.  Well shit.  Being the Chief Financial Officer, it took me less than an hour to find how he’s been scamming the company out of a serious amount of money.  Lloyd found a lot more.  We got things set up for him.  Bryce is actually meeting with your dad in Vegas today.
“You don’t need to worry about that.  Just keep that tongue action going. 
“Too bad you aren’t going to Ruby’s any time soon.  But don’t worry.  Once you are established as trustworthy, I’ll take you on one of my bike runs as my pig.  The guys I ride with like to go to the middle of nowhere and drink, smoke, and fuck.  Ben and his boy sometimes join in.  We use pain pigs and raunch pigs however we want.  Some of those men can get rough and nasty.
“Some of them are local.  I should call them over to have you clean out their shitholes for them.  We need to get a good gang bang going.  That’s my thing, a good ol’ train going.
“Let me see if Lloyd wants to join in.  He’s always up for a good fuck.
“…Were you just zapped?...  That must have been him.
“Hey Lloyd!  I’m sure you hear me!  Get your cock down here and let’s spit roast the pig.
“Pig.  I know he’s training your pussy muscles to tighten up.  For me I want you to be as sloppy as you can get.  Remember each that for each cock going in your puss.
“Get your legs up in the air.  Keep eating my shitter.  I got your ankles.  Here, let me put them under my armpits.  Now that reveals your pussy to anyone walking in.
“Lloyd!  I told you this pig would meet our needs.  His pussy is ready for an all afternoon pounding.”
This story continues in Story #394 and Story #400
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nateezfics · 1 month
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Is it wrong that I... kinda.... really, really want to piss him off? 👉🏻👈🏻
pffffttt i think we all wanna piss him off to receive his glorious wrath 🥴 like,, look at his face in that pic. there’s a dangerous expression on his face, like he’s daring you to keep up with your bratty shit.
and of course you do because the whole point is to get him as riled up as possible so he’ll dick you down into oblivion. and there’s two possible outcomes: one, he gives you what you want because he knows what you’re up to and he’s willing to play with and indulge you; or two, he outright ignores you completely because he knows what you’re up to and punishment is a dish best served cold.
option one. he indulges you. he gives you that dangerous smirk that makes you both horny and intimidated. baits you with you questions like, “is that so?” or “wanna say that again?” he gives you the reaction you’re looking for immediately, getting up close, eyes boring into yours, hand rising to grasp at your throat. “you think you’re so cute trying to piss me off just so i’ll fuck you rough. such a little brat you are. and you know what brats get, hm?” he expects an answer because as much as you’re squirming in his grasp, he knows you’re getting wetter by the second. he knows you love it when he treats you like this. fucks you hard. makes you take every last inch; and when you whine about it being too much? he just laughs. “isn’t this what you wanted, baby? you wanted me to fuck this pretty pussy so rough. don’t back out on me now, brat. lay there and take it.”
option two. whew…this is happens if you manage to really piss him off. looks at you, and then says nothing and practically ignores you for a while. absolutely not giving in to your antics. because the punishment you get for this isn’t the punishment you’re seeking, and he knows, so he doesn’t give in. just leaves you hanging for real. and you’re so desperate. and just as he expects, you come crawling to him, pleading for him. loves to hear you beg because at the end of the day, he doesn’t tolerate your little bratty shenanigans and won’t fall for your traps just to watch you scramble. and when i say he makes you beg, i mean he makes you begggg for it. “is that it? hmph, maybe if you put the same energy into begging as you do into being a brat, i’d give you what you want.” eventually does break you apart on his cock, so rough, but you’re not gonna get to cum unless you ask nicely this time. or until he says so. you’re edged until you’re a crying, whimpering mess,, and it’s only until that point that he even considers letting you cum. and god, when you do get to cum, do not for one second think it stops there. “my baby wanted me rough, wanted to cum so bad, and that’s what she’ll get. you’ll take every bit of pleasure i give you like a good slut. you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you? so behave and i’ll reward you.”
i am here to spread the brat tamer!hongjoong agenda :))
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huhniebowl · 1 year
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A Dare’s a Dare
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Elliot x Reader
Warnings: Smutty smut smutt & also a try at some plot...pray he never sees this
a/n: whew...hey guys. long time no SEE! it’s been a hot minute & i’m so sorry about that. please accept this gift as an apology...i didn’t even mean to make this so long, & i definitely still need to make corrections, but alas, here we are. please enjoy & maybe leave a comment? i love reading your guys reactions/thoughts! :)
a/a/n: wait, also, can we talk about cochella? because i was SAT! mama’s boy is already my favoritee.
¥
One of the lightbulbs in the bathroom flicker as you lean down to sniff a line of coke off the porcelain sink. Then it blows out. You told Elliot weeks ago that it needed to be replaced, but as usual, his “I’ll get to it.” gets lost in all the other bullshit he spews. 
Throwing your head back, you scrunch your nose and sniff. Not yet used to the burn.
Unrolling the five-dollar bill, you shake it out and shove it in your pocket. He left it in the bathroom for you anyway. You do a quick sweep around to make sure there’s nothing that can show what’s been going on in there, swipe the powder off your tight long sleeve, and walk out. 
The music that was once muffled behind the door is now clear as you sway to the beat on your way back into Elliot’s room, Jules and Rue sitting on his bed with a joint between Rue’s lips. 
“Ooo, that the vanilla backwood–” You start, then stop when warm hands grab your face, and your lips are pressed against another pair. It happens so fast that you barely have time to process it before the warm body moves away. You stumble and look up. 
Elliot. 
“That wasn’t 10 seconds,” Jules calls out, leaning into Rue. They’re going straight to hell if you have any say in it. Though considering the life choices you’ve all made from the moment you crossed paths, you’ll be right there with them. Elliot too. 
“You’ve never really kissed a girl before, huh, Elly?” Rue mocks, lighting the blunt. 
Elliot leans over and whispers in your ear, “Let me keep my dignity, and I’ll let you keep my five in your pocket.” Damn. Touché. 
You shrug and nod, reaching to grab his face and pull him forward. You’re too high for this shit. 
“Start the clock.” Elliot points, looking at Rue before meeting your lips in a heavy kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you against the nearest wall. 
Your heart is going well over the average beat per minute, and for once, you can honestly say it wasn’t because of the line you just did. You’ve wanted Elliot since the day Rue introduced you to him. Charming, snarky, sarcastic. Qualities right out of your manifestation journal. 
The both of you clicked immediately as if you’d been a past connection. Got even closer as the year went on. 
You once considered confessing. Telling him you wanted the title of being his and him yours. But that long since died out the closer you became. You’d rather him a friend than nothing. 
So every girl he's ever brought up, fucked, confided in you about, you sat there and took it. Shoving down what you felt and ranting it all out to Rue and Jules until you felt good enough to shove it down again. You thought you were doing pretty good, well, until now, since his hands are squeezing your hips and his mouth is hot on yours. You’re more than sure your pussy rivals Niagara Falls right now. 
You know this is some fucked up dare on Jules's part nonetheless, and you really shouldn’t enable her, but fuck it. 
It’s just a kiss. 
So you melt into him, let your hands slide from his face, and rest one on the back of his neck and the other in his curls. You accidentally give them a harsh tug when Elliot pulls back a little to suck at your bottom lip while slipping a warm hand into your sweats to grope your ass. 
At the same time you whimper, he huffs out a hoarse ‘fuck’ against your lips at the tug. You open your eyes and pull back just a bit to see he’s already looking at you. Desperation is evident on his face, and his chest heaving just as much as yours. His eyes dart back down to your lips, and you can tell he’s about to go in for another kiss. You just about meet him halfway until your drug-muddled brain processes that you both aren’t alone. The harsh shrill of Jules yelling out shatters the atmosphere.
“10!” You jump, and Elliot freezes, dropping his head onto your shoulder, as his shake with laughter. Unfortunately, the new position leaves you face to face with your friends looking at you with a smugness you want to punch. You throw up your middle finger. 
“We literally yelled out 10 a good zillion times. You two were practically fucking in front of us.” 
You roll your eyes and push Elliot off when you feel him start to leave soft kisses up your neck, afraid you might actually jump him in front of company if he keeps going. Besides, that wasn’t part of the dare.
“You’re so fucking horny.” You groan, sliding down on the carpet, still trying to catch your breath. Elliot grins and takes the joint from Rue. 
“Sorry, but I couldn’t go out like that. A dare’s a dare.”
You grumble and try to ignore the ripple of hurt that rides through you. For a split second, you let yourself believe that maybe the kiss was of hidden motive. Despite it being a dare, you hoped there was at least some truth behind his touches. 
Suddenly you hate your friends for the dare, but more so yourself for letting the strong wall you built fall the second he unknowingly dove into your hidden desire. 
Your response was a bit delayed, a dry laugh as you reached out for the joint. Closing your eyes and letting your head thump against the wall after your pull. 
Fuck. 
¥
Time goes by, and your high eventually fades. Rue and Jules left when Jules’s dad began calling about her whereabouts. You stayed behind with Elliot, you two in the middle of a movie when your friends decided to go. 
When the credits roll, you glance at your phone. Two am. 
“Can I stay the night?” You ask, looking up from your phone. Your stomach swirls when you notice he’s already looking in your direction. Stare intense, and you wonder how long he was staring in the first place.
“It’s pretty late, and I really don’t feel like going home.” You know he’ll say yes, so you quickly text your sister and toss your phone. 
“Yeah, sure,” He rolls over and stretches, “You know where everything is to shower and shit.” 
You nod and roam around his room for a shirt and a clean pair of boxers. 
“You don’t already have a hookup planned for tonight, do you? Cause that would suck.” You laugh under your breath, turning on his orange lamp. Your back faces him while you move around, and you notice he’s silent. Too long for a joke. Not even a scoff. You turn around and see him on the edge of his bed, hands running down his face. 
“I stopped those a while ago.” You raise your eyebrows and shuffle in your spot. The air goes tense, and you don’t like it. So you try to shift it. 
“What? Ran out of girls in the area?” Your smile drops as soon as it starts when he looks up at you in annoyance. A look that’s never been directed to you. 
“No, I got tired of fucking people who didn’t give a fuck about me.” You’re immediately swallowed by guilt. You cross your arms and stop shuffling. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Elliot. I didn't mean it like that.” He waves you off and gets up to grab a clean towel. 
"Mhm." He walks out to his vacant cousins' ensuite bathroom and slams the door. You jump in your spot and groan. Muttering to yourself on your way toward his bathroom. 
You brush your teeth once you’re showered and dressed. His boxers rolled down to fit your hips. His shirt smells like him, and you find yourself bringing it up to your nose any chance you get. 
Spitting out the toothpaste, you rinse your mouth and stare at yourself in the mirror. Eyes trailing down to your neck and remembering how Elliot’s lips softly moved up that sensitive part of your skin hours ago. You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t push him away. 
Would he have kept going despite having company? Bite down? You shudder, shaking your head and gripping the sink. You've stayed over at his place before, but this feels different. Something is looming over the two of you, and you don’t know if you like it. 
You give yourself a dramatic thumbs up in the mirror and walk towards his room. The orange light from before is off, and a dim glow emits instead. He turned on his string lights. 
The ones you got him for his birthday last year. You smile to yourself and see Elliot cross-legged on his bed, rolling another joint. 
He doesn’t acknowledge you, rightfully so. But it still doesn't make you feel good. You lean on his door frame and watch his fingers skillfully pearl the backwood. You know he knows you’re staring at him, but he doesn’t make a move to say anything. 
Your eyes move up to his mouth, fixating on how he uses his tongue to lick the seam of the rolling paper. His eyes flick up while doing so and lock with yours. Your breath hitches, and you watch as he trails down your body before making eye contact again. You divert your attention elsewhere, clicking your acrylics against each other. 
Elliot sighs, and you hear him place his rolling tray on his desk. 
“You just gonna stand there or help me smoke this?” A silent peace offering.
You stay by the doorway, still a little unsure, watching Elliot place the blunt between his lips and lie on his back, holding his lighter out to you. 
“Light me.” 
You huff and push off the frame, crawling on his bed and taking a seat on his window seal. The square cut out big enough for you to comfortably sit in. You grab the lighter from his hands and spark it, leaning forward to light his spliff. 
“Elliot, I’m—” Once again, his eyes meet yours, and your words die in your throat. You’re closer to him than before. His curls are still damp and loose, framing his face. Skin soft and dewy from skincare, and the amber glow from the flame. 
He’s so fucking beautiful. Being this close, your thumbs itch to rub over his apple tattoo; then over his eyebrows, then gently use the pad to pull down his plump bottom lip to watch it bounce back into place. 
They’re loosely holding on to the vanilla backwood, pink and soft. You want to kiss him again. Taste the flavored remnant that undoubtedly coats his lips the longer the joint sits there.
Elliot shuffles, and you snap out of your revere, clearing your throat. You quickly light his joint as you feel the lighter wheel heat up under your thumb. Then continue your apology. 
“I'm really sorry for earlier. What I said was fucked up.” 
“Yeah, you think?” He’s being sarcastic, but once again, deserved.
“At least the sex you’ve had meant something. They don’t just fuck off after.” Elliot takes a long pull and hands it over to you. 
“Who would’ve thought me, of all people, craved intimacy during and after a fuck.” He gives a dry laugh and blows out. 
“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.” Elliot looks over at you. “The guys I fucked were only interested in me for that reason. A fuck.” After a pull, you let your head rest against the wall, “Led me to believe it would be something more, then left with a half-assed sentiment once I gave them what they really wanted. Never even cummed for a guy.” 
You shrug, then blow out the smoke before continuing. “So I guess we’re on the same boat then, huh?” 
You look over at Elliot, his face unreadable. Silence falls over you both like a thick blanket as you pass the joint between each other. You let him get the last hit, holding it out for him lean up and take a pull. 
He crosses his legs and puts his hands behind his head, eyes lidded and red as he watches you snuff out the blunt and toss it out the window. You suppose your eyes don’t look too far off from that too. 
His voice, although soft, jumps you out of the silence. 
“You’re more than just a fuck.” You suddenly find it hard to breathe. 
“You too, Elliot.” You whisper, scared to break the atmosphere you two have made. He’s quiet for a moment before continuing. 
“I wouldn’t treat you that way. At least with me, you’d cum.” 
Your heart damn near stops, and you inhale at his words. He reaches a hand out to your ankle; the pads of his fingertips cool as they rub at the warm skin over the bone. Mindlessly playing with your anklet, you shiver as his hand moves to caress your calf. 
He shuffles closer to you, and your thighs quiver at the new tension. You can’t process what’s happening anymore. What’s real, and what’s fake. 
Being high blinds the practicalness you usually have when it comes to Elliot, making everything regarding him, sugar-coated. Elliot’s processing through your brain like he’s a wad of sugary cotton candy, and you’re feigning for it bad. 
It’s why you feel your body mindlessly moving on its own as you climb down from his window and over to him. You straddle his hips, and his hands slide under your shirt like clockwork. 
He’s close enough to where his breath fans over your lips, he’s focused on them until he catches your gaze. “I know I can give you what you need.” 
You nod, letting out a shaky breath when your clothed clit barely rubs at his dick, poking under his sweats. His body reacts to prove his words right. 
“So, please, can I make you cum?” He doesn’t need to ask twice. 
“God, yes, Elliot.” And just like earlier, his lips are on yours. It has your pussy puddled in seconds. It’s slow, wet, and sounds lewd even in your ears. 
Just as you guessed, there’s a faint taste of vanilla, and it has you whimpering. Your moans filter in soon after when he grabs your hips and pulls them down, pussy rubbing against his hard-on. 
He’s harder than earlier, and it feels too good; it has you jolting up. His groan is guttural, sending spikes of pleasure through you like no other. You swallow the sound and let him flip you both over. 
“Wanted this for so fucking long.” He breathes, leaving kisses down your neck. You don’t know what to say. Still not comprehending this is happening, let alone someone you’ve been yearning for admitting that he has been too. 
He moves back to yank off his shirt, and you’re whining out to him before you can stop yourself. Needing him back against you. Elliot chuckles at your neediness, returning for a kiss that barely leaves you in touch with reality. 
“Take this off for me?” He whispers, tugging on your shirt. You pull it off and bring him back down, his hands running over your newly exposed skin. Fingers brushing over your tits. 
“Can I?” His voice is strained, composure just short of being lost.
“Yeah.” You breathe, feeling him kiss down your chest until his warm mouth suctions onto your nipple. 
You curse out and arch off the bed, running a hand through his hair and gripping it hard. He groans against you, his dick pressing harder against your thigh as he ruts himself into your soft skin. Desperate for friction.  
You don’t realize how much he’s getting off to this until you bring yourself to look down and see his eyes closed. His lips suctioned around your right nipple, his fingers rolling the bud of the left one. He’s in a state of bliss, so lost in himself. He pops off and moves to the other, tongue flicking over your nipple in a way you wish was on your clit. 
“Elliot, please.” You whine, pussy gushing yet again when you feel him grind harder at you saying his name. 
“Please, what?” He moves off your nipple and lays his head on your stomach. Looking up at you while his fingers replace where his mouth once was.  
“Need you.” You can’t say it; you won’t. You’re more than sure he knows where you want him. You can tell when you hear him huff a laugh. 
“You’re going to have to tell me where.” You quiver when you feel his fingers rub over the drenched spot on your boxers. His boxers. 
“It’s here? You need me here, right? You really drenched my boxers, didn’t you?” 
“Yes, right there. Please, please.” You whine, unable to feel embarrassed. Not when he has you this worked up.
“See. Not so hard.” He muses, sliding them off and slowly pushing your legs apart. 
“Fuck, look at you.” He whispers. “So pretty and so wet. Just for fucking me.” He looks up at you, “Anyone ever made you this wet?” 
You shake your head. “No, just you. Only you.” Elliot’s in awe, someone like you all glistening and needy for him. It's like he’s on a power trip. “Can I record eating your pussy?”
Your mind is too sugar-coated for you to think straight, your trust and reliability around Elliot allowing it to be as such. A question like that from anyone else would have had you shriveling up in disgust. But with Elliot? You find yourself pliant. Ready to let him do anything he wanted to you. 
“Your words.” He murmurs, his fingers pressing down on your clit to watch your juices spread. 
You squeal at the pressure, “Yes, yes!” 
“Good girl.” He feels around for his phone. You hear the start of the video and through lidded eyes, see him shining the camera flash on your soaked folds. 
“Looks even prettier in the light.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the camera, but your pussy visibly clenches at his words, and he chuckles. 
“Can you spread yourself for me?” 
He was going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. 
Obediently, you slide your pretty fingers to your cunt, and slowly open yourself up to him with your pointer and middle finger. You hear the sticky sound your pussy makes as you reveal your clit to him, the jewels on your acrylics glinting under the flash. 
“Fuck.” He breathes out your name, zooming in. “Keep it there.” He says, reaching his thumb to rub slow circles on your clit. 
“Elly!” You whine, thighs trembling. He hands you his phone without a word, eyes not tearing away from your pussy. With a shaky hand, you take it and position it so he’s in frame. 
“Hold still.” 
“Oka–Shit, Elliot!” You cry, his tongue flicking your clit before you can finish. His eyes are closed, lapping you up like he's starved. You want to close your eyes, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of everything, Elliot. But he told you to hold still.
So you look down in the camera to make sure he’s still within frame and almost cum right there. He’s looking up into the camera, right at you. It has your stomach clenching and pussy throbbing under his tongue. 
“Feels so good, Elly, don’t stop.” You cry out. He keeps a hand firmly on your thigh to keep them open and brings the other to rub circles on your clit. He moves down and shoves his tongue inside. Tongue fucking you and eliciting the only sound he wants to hear from you.
You let out a moan so pretty it has Elliot’s dick harder than ever, and he falters in his movements for a second. Pulling back to leave quick, and messy kisses to your pretty fingers for holding yourself open for him. 
“M’ gonna cum!” You squeal, dropping the phone to grip his sheets. You could feel it; you were about to snap. And you’re so desperate for it. Desperate to cum for him. 
He pulls back for a quick second, “Come on, baby, you can do it. All over my face, come on.” Then he quickly flicks the tip of his tongue back on your clit. 
You reach both hands down to grip his hair, “Yes, like that; stay there, stay there!” You cry, toes curling when Elliot does as you say. 
That’s all you need. The white-hot coil snaps, and you scream Elliot’s name, cumming harder than you believed possible. Head thrown back as one of your hands squeeze the pillow under your head, the other still holding a tight grip on Elliot’s hair. Knuckles white. 
Your legs tremble, and your chest stutters. Elliot watches it all in a daze. He didn’t know someone could look so fucking beautiful while cumming. You look dewy, a thin sheet of sweat coating your body. The woman right out of his wet dreams. 
He did that to you, it was all him, and it has him moaning into your sensitive cunt. Causing your body to quiver. 
“Fuck Elliot.” You breathe, pawing his greedy mouth off you and back to your lips. You taste yourself on him and sigh.
“So good. So so good.” He mumbles, moving to bite at your collerbones. You wrap a arm around his shoulders, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 
“Thank you, Elly, thank you, thank you.” You whimper, feeling so raw. So bared with him. You’re holding his face in your hand, overwhelmed with how he’s staring at you. Like you hung the stars and the planets. Like you’re wholeheartedly the only reason for his existence, and you almost can’t take it. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” You whisper, reaching down between your bodies and wrapping your hand around his cock. He breathes through his nose and drops his head into your neck. 
“Yes, please.” His voice is thick and coarse. You don’t respond, lining yourself up with him and squeezing his arm, letting him know to slip in. 
“Fuck fuck.” Elliot grits out, as he slowly pushes, his hands on either side of your head. You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs around his waist. 
Once he bottoms out, you clamp down on him. He stays still, trying to pull himself together not to cum yet.  
He feels helpless, losing himself in the heat of your pussy like this. Never has he been reduced to a mess like this before. 
“Gonna need you to relax, baby, or I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you properly.” He rasps. You pepper kisses over his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair. Willing yourself to calm down. You feel so full, the pleasure tingling up your spine and throughout your body. 
“Elly, please move.” You whimper, desperate to feel him. He keeps himself buried in your neck, his grip on the blankets tightening. 
You’re just about to beg again when Elliot decides to snap his hips. You choke on your words and lock your ankles tighter over each other. His pace is quick but deep, the tip of his dick abusing that spongy spot you can never reach. 
Your walls flutter around him, so warm and soft, and he needs more. 
He’s pussy drunk, panting into your skin at how you’re squeezing him in so perfectly, greedy to milk him for all he has.  
“S’pussy was made for me, just for me.” He mutters.  
You can’t find your voice. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth open as Elliot fucks you into the mattress with all he has. Your nails dig into his back, and he hisses at the sting. 
You find yourself gasping for air when he pulls up from your neck, his face flushed and his baby hair curling at his forehead. 
“Kiss me, plea—.” You whimper, and he’s already moving to your lips before you finish. It’s sloppy, more a meeting of spit and tongue than a kiss, but you’re high off it. 
You’re going to cum again, and Elliot can tell, by the way your pussy is tightening around him. 
He can feel your cunt drooling, his precum mixing with your arousal, causing a creamy ring around the base of his dick, and the mere sight of it has him higher than he thought possible.
“M’ gonna cum. You gonna come w’me?” He mumbles against your lips, his eyes far away.  
You nod, “S’close, Elly.” You grow impatient, moving your hips to match his sloppy pace. 
“That’s right, fuck me back, baby.” His voice is hoarse. Completely lost in his lust and need for you. You feel it again, that familiar heat pooling; you’re right there.
It takes one more snap of his hips, and you’re cumming around him hard, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream as you cream all over his dick. There’s a ringing in your ears; Elliot sounds far away as he works you through your orgasm while chasing his. 
“Cumming, fuck m’gonna cum.” He sounds like a broken record, but he can’t help it. 
He’s so lost in the way you’re squeezing around him. So perfect and tight. You hold him as close as possible in your weakened state, making eye contact and fulfilling your thoughts from earlier by pulling down his bottom lip with your thumb. 
“Cum inside, Elly. Wanna feel you cum.” And he’s cumming. A resounding whimper works its way up his throat as he paints the inside of your sopping cunt. He goes limp on top of you, kissing you up the valley of your chest, until he softly catches your lips in a slow and lazy kiss. So good, and thank you’s tumbling out his lips.  
You feel hot, & sticky but can’t bring yourself to push him off. So you bask in the silence, your nails raking through his scalp as you gather your bearings. You feel yourself spinning, wondering where this leaves you two. If this is the end of your friendship. If he—
“So,” Elliot draws, looking up at you and unknowingly snapping you out of your thoughts. 
“Wanna be my girlfriend?” You look down at him and can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat. Light swatting his head.
Because, of course, this is how Elliot would ask. He smiles, content with how he can feel your chest rumbling under his head, and presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend, Elly.”
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taehyuncult · 2 months
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bf!jaehyun 18+ thoughts
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warnings: fem!reader, sub!jaehyun, mentions of crying, mentions of subxsub, dirty talk/praise, like one mention of slapping, use of the name puppy, he’s my sweet sensitive boy so i wrote him as such!, begging, and i think that’s it!
SMUT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI.
bf!jaehyun, who lowkey cries when things get super lovey and passionate. it’s so endearing and honestly SO!! attractive to see a man be unapologetically sensitive. sometimes when you two have sex you have to check in with him rather than the other way around, and you don’t mind of course! it’s nice to be able to take care of him in such a special way (it’s hot). he would literally be mid-stroke and start tearing up and you would be like ??? and he would say in the middle of shedding tears “i just love you so much.” it’s the sweetest thing ever, literally makes your heart fill with so much love for him.
bf!jaehyun, who is most likely quite subby. he’s a switch, but he really loves when you have control. he loves when you use him, telling him that all he’s good for is being your puppy, it ignites his love for you. there’s just something about the idea of you being the dominant one that makes him feel all cool like he loves having a girlboss gf that isn’t afraid to smack him when he’s been a whore.
bf!jaehyun, who is the most fun to experience subxsub with. it’s so desperate and messy like two puppies in heat just aching to get off. you’re both so stupid, rutting into each other with only one goal in mind. in moments like this, the two of you probably won’t even get your clothes fully off. he’ll just fuck you on the nearest surface with your panties pulled to the side. it’s so filthy to think about. he would slam you against the wall as you both tug at each other’s clothes, he would speak aloud, telling you, in a pained voice, “i’m so desperate for your pussy right now.” it would make your body heat up, the want for him increasing tenfold as you tell him, “need you, need to feel you cum in me so bad, myungjae.” that would only egg him on further to get his cock into you as soon as possible.
bf!jaehyun, who really has a hard time containing himself when you praise him. he’s so fucking cute; his cheeks blushing, his cock twitching, his eyes looking away from yours because he feels shy. he’ll literally get so shy if you compliment his cock too. you would tell him as you’re riding him, “myungjae, you have such a pretty cock, could fuck myself on it forever.” this man would turn into a PUDDLE. a shiver goes up his spine with the way you talk to him, and he would close his eyes, throwing his head back with a smile plastered on his face. what’s really fun, though, is if you ask him “why didn’t you say thank you? i just complimented you!” with a pout. he gets sooo flustered and shy as he spills out a bunch of gratitude as you continue bouncing on his cock. he’s so fun to play with <3
bf!jaehyun, who is the man that every girl dreams of. he’s out here moaning and crying in your ear. he truly doesn’t hold back, especially because he trusts you with his most vulnerable sides, so he’s not shy about moaning. and boy…. does he have the prettiest fucking moans. not only that, but he’s so whiny like he’s always on the verge of tears and it’s so- literally like orgasm inducing. he also doesn’t stop talking at times, he would whine out things like “please- please- i’m so fucking close i’m gonna cum!” and “stop! it hurts! too much- oh my god-” WHEW- he’ll beg and he’s not ashamed to do so!
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To continue the theme of "wtaf is up with that sanctuary that feeds bears Twizzlers and camels Mountain Dew", here's another recent social media post I find rather concerning. Who the heck is giving cheetah - vulnerable animals with a very small population - to a sanctuary that is rabidly, openly anti-zoo and anti-conservation breeding?
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The reason this stands out to me so much is that there just like... are not cheetah in sanctuaries in the US. Most cheetah in the US are part of a breeding program, either AZA's SSP or ZAA's AMP - it's not common to find them in even unaccredited zoos, much less newly moved to sanctuaries. Of the 400-some cheetah I found doing the big cat census in 2020, there were less than 10 in facilities that branded themselves as sanctuaries. So where did these cats come from?
What's more, okay, there's no trace of these ladies on social media before now. The Wild Animal Sanctuary is normally very open about their acquisitions, and no facility they've gotten animals from since their last USDA inspection has had cheetah. I haven't heard about any imported cheetah recently either, which is another thing you can check for this facility, because the majority of their rescues are imported from all over the world.
There's another weird thing about this post, too. Look at the language. It's all very "here's a cheetah! they're very happy outdoors in their nice habitat." And if you're not facility with this institution and their messaging, you might not catch why that's odd. This facility emphasizes, in every post they can, that their animals are rescued from horrible no-good very-bad abusive situations. Normally they name and shame if they can, or talk about how they came from the cub petting industry or private exploitation or such. There's none of that in this post, and it stands out because of it - especially because it's the first time these very rare, very charismatic big cats are being shared with their audience.
So where the heck did these cats come from?
Whelp.
Turns out the answer is AZA-accredited zoos. And whew, man, does that raise some questions.
Luckily these girls have some pretty distinctive names, so I was able to find them in the international and regional cheetah studbooks pretty easily. For both cats, the most recent listing in the studbooks was at AZA-accredited zoos in Texas: in 2020 Dahlila was living at Caldwell Zoo, and in 2022 Jaina was at Fossil Rim Wildlife Center.
Now, we don't know for sure that Caldwell and Fossil Rim are the facilities that chose to dump their cheetah in a sanctuary. There's some important context to know about exotic animal ownership and how animals leave AZA SSPs. General practice is that large charismatic mammals aren't bought and sold at AZA zoos, especially SSP animals, so animals sent out to other facilities for breeding or exhibition are moved around on loan. Sometimes their ownership changes with the transfer, but not always - it really depends on the species and how much control each facility wants to have over their animals. On top of that, the ownership of offspring sometimes alternates by litter or individual between the institutions that own the parents. When they're part of a cooperative breeding program none of that matters very much because all the animals are managed as a single population and moved as required for breeding and to fill empty display spaces. Where it's relevant is when an animal is removed from the SSP population - at that point it's totally up to the facility that owns it to choose where they live, as long as they send them somewhere AZA agrees is providing a reasonable standard of care. (This will be important in a little bit.)
So what we can tell from this situation is that Jaina and Dahlila were, for some reason, probably excessioned from the SSP in the last couple years. And whichever AZA facilities owned them decided to send them to The Wild Animal Sanctuary instead of finding a display-only placement at a zoo or safari park or similar facility.
Since I started writing this post, TWAS confirmed the origin of these girls in a Facebook comment.
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I have real concerns about what appears to be an emerging trend of exotic animal exhibition facilities using sanctuaries as a "dumping ground" for their elderly or extra animals, in order to prioritize space for breeding or more desirable animals. I can't prove it yet, but there's been just enough weird transfers to have caught my attention. (In some cases, there's a good reason - sometimes all the habitats designed for the physical needs of elderly animals of a certain species already are full, and it's better for them to go somewhere they can exist more easily rather than trying to retrofit their current habitat - but it isn't every case). And here's the thing: many sanctuaries, like TWAS, message about how they have to exist to take all the discards from the zoo industry. In recent years that hasn't really been accurate, and historically, it did happen but not as commonly as it's portrayed. So... if that's true... and it's a bad thing... why are sanctuaries encouraging it by taking the animals zoos are transferring out to free up space? You'd think they'd want to say "find space in your own institutions and only call us if there's a crisis." (Money. The answer is money. Every new intake is used for marketing and drives additional donations.) Heck, why are zoos playing into that narrative, when they're frequently rebutting attacks claiming they discard the animals that aren't useful or aesthetic anymore?
All of this actually makes a lot of sense given how short on space all the AZA SSP programs are. Both in general, and for big cats, there are not enough spaces across accredited zoos to hold all the animals needed for sustainable populations. (This is why AZA just recently re-imagined their SSP programs, which is a whole other complicated mess that I am working on a writeup about). Recent political shifts within AZA corporate leadership have also discouraged collaborations between AZA-accredited zoos and non-AZA facilities, so while 20 years ago it would have been fine to move extraneous / non-breeding cats to smaller unaccredited facilities for display, that's less of an option. Which leaves sanctuaries as kind of the only politically appropriate option. This would also explain why the text of the post is so weird: there's probably a contract in place to prevent using their images to bash zoos.
The problem with sanctuaries as a solution for housing extra animals is, well, the quality of care they provide. If you haven't seen me say it before: sanctuaries are as varied in their expertise and function as zoos. In the case of The Wild Animal Sanctuary (and their other facilities, like the Refuge these cheetah are at) everything I have learned about them indicates that their animal care is highly questionable. Which is a problem, because - as mentioned earlier - AZA-accredited facilities are required to follow a responsible population management policy, which means ensuring that animals they send outside of AZA go somewhere that gives them high-quality care.
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TWAS is an organization that prefers to feed big cats at multiple facilities frozen meat puree "frisbees" by chucking them over the fence. They don't have any way to separate co-housed cats to prevent conflict during feeding or resource guarding, because they don't build their enclosures with any sort of shift or lock-out areas. It's also unclear how they remove food waste without a way to shift animals out to go find it. (For bears they drive in on a truck into the habitat and then go on foot to clean, but I don't know if that's done with the big cats once they’ve been released from quarantine pens.
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(These are my photos of food in carnivore habitats at TWAS this summer. Given the pest accumulation on the meat frisbee and the fact that I visited early in the day, it seems probable it was at least a day old.)
This is an organization that is ethically against training their animals for any reason: it's literally written into their statement of purpose as a “true sanctuary.” It's also described below, in a recent book published about the facility.
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That policy means these cheetahs will not have a recall behavior, will not be trained for medical examinations or as a way to lower stress for procedures, and will not get the mental enrichment and interaction they're used to from regular training sessions. According to the book, medications are delivered on a long spoon / tongs tucked inside the cat equivalent of a pill pocket. (Which anyone with a pet cat knows falls apart as a plan if they're sick enough to not feel hungry).
I'm pretty sure there's no heated shelter for the large carnivores or bears at TWAS. The main shelter for animals at the Sanctuary is single-entrance concrete culverts buried underground far enough they're supposed to maintain a constant temperature all winter.
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Sounds nice in theory, but with no second exit animals can get trapped down there, and there's no way to monitor them when they're inside. I don't know what type of shelter the Refuge provides, but it probably isn't much different. Even the quarantine spaces - smaller outdoor kennel-type pens with three exposed mesh panel walls - have no heat, and just an above-ground culvert block for them to curl up in. While cheetah are surprisingly adaptable to cold weather, winters in Colorado can be very harsh for prolonged periods of time.
As far as I know, most of the animals at facilities TWAS runs don't get regularly changed, novel enrichment. I've certainly never seen much in the habitats other than climbing structures when I've visited their main facility over the years, and most of their messaging around “toys” is semi-permanent furniture like giant telephone wire spools or a suspension bridge for climbing. I think some of the bears get balls? The messaging from TWAS is that their animal care is better because it's close to a natural life in the wild. Animals can be animals! When returned to their wild roots, animals shouldn't need anything from humans and are happier that way, etc.
When animals come to the Sanctuary (or the partner facility, the Refuge) they're literally chucked into a big fenced-off piece of land and left out there to "be cats" without human interaction except for feeding time and observations. Which is the polar opposite of what these cheetah are used to! AZA cheetahs, even those that aren't program animals, are intensely managed. They're used to regular human contact, frequent training, and constant enrichment. So what's "normal" for a wild cat is a far cry from what these cheetah girls have always known. That's not better - that's a loss of quality of life.
I don't understand how moving animals to places like TWAS is in line with AZA's Responsible Collection Management policy. I don't understand how AZA facilities think the type of husbandry the facility describes providing is acceptable. If another zoo utilized half the same care practices, they'd be drawn and quartered by their industry peers as well as by the public - and rightfully so. I don't understand why anyone wants to send animals there, based even just on what's easily observable. I don't have more information or really a conclusion, just that’s what's observable from an external vantage point is upsetting as heck and I worry for those cheetah girls.
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mooishbeam · 7 months
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『♡』 General’s Day Off
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♡ featuring: jing yuan x f!reader
♡ summary: the general has been stressed as of late. a day of relaxation is what he needs. wc: 2.8k+
♡ cw/tw: non-sexual nudity, fluff!
notes: whew I've been waiting to do some jing yuan fluff for a while my lil smoochie. the next one is gonna be so long oof but I can't wait. art by ArtRobiins on twitter :) <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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The dozing general hadn’t had a moment of peace since Phantylia’s invasion. The Xianzhou Luofu was still recovering from betrayal, and its people were on edge ever since. Jing Yuan wouldn’t admit his weaknesses, but the welfare of his people weighed on his consciousness greatly. It bled through his ghostly skin and sinking eyebags stretching at the tired corners. The threat of another disruption loomed, and so he obsessively prepared for the untold attack. He busied himself with preventative measures, documents upon documents stacked on his desk. Yanqing had never seen him behave so adamantly, so sure of some eventual calamity. Though his demeanor reflected that of a lazy, carefree man, his heavy heart and soul bore the curse of immense grief. He needed to portray a headstrong and unwavering strength, otherwise the reality of his situation would be too apparent to the Luofu. His close friends were lost to the unpredictable winding ties of fate; he couldn’t stand to mourn another. Especially with you around. 
If you and Yanqing weren’t by his side, he would be undoubtedly consumed by sorrow. Your warm smile on the mild sunrise planted a blossoming light in that dimming core. Patience was a virtue when it came to his stubbornness; you could tell he was unwell, but whenever you voiced your concerns, he aimed to ease your worries with fleeting promises of rest. He would sooner die than see tears in your eyes at his affliction. Bailu was overseeing his recovery, until he proclaimed a sudden influx of health, and steadied his posture as if it was as spry as before. Yanqing attempted to keep him in her care, but he was forced to watch Jing Yuan push himself beyond inherent limitations. 
Mornings on the Luofu are always quiet. It gets hectic during the afternoon, so you take the opportunity to do some calming activities. Jing Yuan was already gone before you woke; he hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. You stir the dark bitter substance in your cup and stare out at the endless blue, pondering how you fell in love with such an obdurate man. That is, before you glimpse his half naked body dreaming, shadowed by the snowy curls spilling down his back in your memory. You can’t help but smile. 
You receive a knock at the door, and rush to answer it. These days, news about Jing Yuan and another injury shaded your mind. You open the door, and it’s Yanqing, at attention as if he’s facing the general. 
“Good morning, ma’am, I have something to report” he says, straight and dutiful. You giggle at his professionalism, and a tinge of pink grazes his ears. “It is a good morning. You know you don’t have to be so formal with me, Yanqing.” He drops the soldier-like pose and sighs with a slouch. “I know, ma’am. But I really need to talk to you.” You invite him to come inside, and you both sit at the dining table quietly. You notice him shifting uncomfortably in the chair, a far stare in his contemplation. 
“Did you eat? I can make something.” He cuts back to reality from the broken silence. “Ah! No thank you, I ate already” he stammers. You offer your most welcoming smile. “What would you like to discuss, Yanqing?” 
“It’s...about General Jing. I’m really worried about him. He spends a lot of time working now. I’ve tried to get him to relax once and a while but he’s always up and out the door. I can’t get in contact with him for hours. And he’s so tired! Sometimes when I look over his shoulder, the things he’s writing are nonsense!” You allow him to continue, it seems that Yanqing became more relieved with honesty for each grievance he admitted to. “He struggles to hide it, but I see him grab his side in pain whenever he stands...I don’t know what to do. So, I wanted to tell you.” Your head is propped by your hand, taking in all the information you suspected was occurring. Perhaps you should’ve strapped him to a hospital bed for eternity. You click your tongue in annoyance, Jing Yuan is truly a gorgeous handful. 
“I knew it.” 
“Oh, you did?” 
“A sneaky suspicion, I guess.” 
“I can’t get through to him.” You let out a dejected chuckle. “Me neither. He’s really the worst, stressing us out like this.” Yanqing subconsciously nods his head, fumbling with his thumbs. “I never thought you’d help me go against the general” you tease.  
“N-no! I’m just trying to help him recover, is all!” he splutters, waving his hands over his face. “I’m kidding. I know you care about him. I do, too. I love him more than anything in this universe.”  
Your mind replays every kind gesture; the fresh bouquet of flowers he got you every few days, sharing unending stories that kept you awake at night while you both gazed at the stars, his tendency to be horrible at games that weren’t chess, and the warm hug enveloping you just as you dozed off in his arms. You endured to be strong for him up until this point, but bittersweet longing pierces your thoughts. The truth spills down your cheeks. 
“Oh no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” 
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. If you’re willing to help, could you do me a favor?” you whisper, wiping the persistent staining tears. Yanqing stands at attention as if he’s accepted a life-or-death mission. “Of course.” 
“Please make sure his schedule is clear tomorrow.” 
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You aren’t sure if your plan will convince him to stay home, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Unfortunately, he didn’t come home as you expected. You slept intermittently. By the time you woke, the sun was just rising, casting a rose-colored gradient across the sky. Still nowhere to be found. 
Click. The door creaks open. Jing Yuan stealthily moves his hand behind it and tiptoes past the welcome mat. The screech makes him pause briefly, before sliding against the wall to get past the snitching door. Right as he closes it, he whips around, only to see your figure swaddled in a quilt waiting for him on the couch. Too tired to react, he flashes a weak smirk, and sets his scroll on the table. His shirt is wrinkled and turned a dirty beige, most likely from fighting, with the collar undone. Truthfully, he was elated to see you after hardly being home for weeks. You made the blood and bruising worth it—it ensured your life and protection. 
“Oh? What’s this?” You make grabbing motions with both hands, reaching out to him from your spot. “You ordered a general?” he jests. You unfold the plush quilt and beckon him to your embrace. “Mhm. Come here, honey.” Be it lack of sleep or resolve, your body looks too comfortable in this moment, and he falls to temptation. Kicking off his boots, he quickly strides towards you and dives in your arms. He’s extremely heavy, nearly twice your size and probably the fluffiest weighted blanket you’ve ever felt. He melts in your hold. The buckles from his waist prickle your soft flesh, but the vibration of his breath soothing in your ear makes you forget. You rub the firm muscle of his back with one hand, it’s taut and anxious. You untie the red bow and tangle your other hand through the puffs of marshmallows between your fingers.  
“Your delivery is here” he mumbles. 
“Finally, I’ve been waiting for it for sooo long.” 
“My apologies. I got caught up at work.” 
“I’m sure.” You pull his hair back to gaze at his jagged features, those dark ringed orbs filled with amber. “Do you want me to have a heart attack wondering when you’ll come home?” 
“If that were to happen, I’d jump in the coffin right after you, my dear.” You pinch his nose, and he laughs. “However, I must return soon.” His voice sounds flat, defeated. You go back to stroking his hair. “No. You have the day off.” 
“Really? And who arranged that?” 
“Yanqing. He told me about your...reluctance to relax.” Jing Yuan half rolls his eyes, but never moves to leave your warmth. “That boy, he’s nervous over nothing.” You poke his side to test the pain and watch him instantly wince. He sighs deeply at your irritated expression. 
“(Y/N), I can’t just stop over a feeble injury.” 
“You took a spear in the chest, and nearly died. I wouldn't call that a feeble injury.” 
“The Luofu needs me.” 
“I need you.” He surveys your upset expression. Did he ever stop to consider your feelings, how despondent he’d made you from reckless habits? He deemed himself fortunate that you chose to stay. He gently pecks your temple. 
“You’re right. I won’t go anywhere.” Your face lights up, and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Good, you’ll enjoy yourself. I have something planned.” 
You start preparing your plan, arranging the master bathroom to a calming variety of aromatic trimmings and sheer drapes hanging just above the tub. Jing Yuan didn’t know what constitutes a spa day, and so you briefly described it as a “day of relaxation”. You didn’t want to ruin the whole surprise. When you get back to the living room, you have a pen and paper with scribbles on it. 
“Mr. Yuan?” you say, pretending that his name is somewhere on the unwritten list. He grins and plays along. “Are you here for the spa package?” 
“Yes, I am. I didn’t know the receptionist was so breathtaking” he teases. He always knew how to fluster you. You do some fake calculations and nod to yourself, ignoring the hands wandering on your body. “For everything your total comes out to…3 kisses.”  
Jing Yuan cradles your face with calloused hands. “Hmm, that's quite expensive, but I think I can manage.” Pressing a soft kiss to your awaiting lips that lasts too long between breaths. It feels desperate, like you’ll float away if he lets you go. You part for air and place your finger over his mouth. “Payment accepted. Right this way.” He kisses your finger, and you guide him to the bathroom. You nudge him inside, and immediately the aroma of vanilla and perfumed petals escapes from the steaming shower. It was spotless and arranged similar to an exotic getaway. “Please undress and get comfortable. I’ll join you inside shortly.” He nods and starts undressing. You gather everything you need and head inside. 
He’s sitting on a stool under the rainfall showerhead, scrubbing down his body. The water bounces off his admittedly neglected hair, and he turns so that the heat doesn’t creep into his wound. You hadn’t realized showering was painful for him. You follow him into the shower. “May I?” you ask, motioning for the semi wet loofa in his hand.  
“Be my guest.” His knees support his elbows, and you kneel behind him to massage mild soap into the sudsing loofa. His scars are much more apparent now, healed but carved roughly on the war-torn muscle. You delicately lather the product across and down his mole dotted back, gingerly kisses littering his shoulder blades. You spread the soap to his sternum and stomach, and you feel his tense form caving to your touch. Jing couldn’t recall receiving affection of this caliber, and so it was nice to be pampered, to feel you closer than he’d ever imagined. It was as if you two were the only people existing in this moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.  
After he’s properly washed, you expose his skin to the dew and allow it to run down his back, making sure to block the scar from further distress. You stand and grab the shampoo bottle, squirting an ample glob in your palm. You plop it onto his scalp, and begin working it through his thick mane. Your nails massaging and manipulating the sensitive skin makes him nearly drool. It’s as though you’re shaping his brain, and hums of approval rumble up your hands. He leans back on your stomach and enjoys your digits frothing substance. You almost see a ghostly tail wagging violently at each caress. When you pull his bangs back to wipe his hairline, you gaze at his face, a content smile prodding the crinkling corners of his mouth. “Are you falling asleep?” you whisper, washing away the soap from his forehead and roots. He groans in response and snuggles his head under your breasts. The sounds of serene rain beading the floor echoes in the humid foggy space, and the sweet scent of citrus conditioner crowds your nose. You squeeze out the remaining water. His eyes ajar from infinite slumber once your hands leave his cleansed scalp. You turn off the shower and escort him to the tub. An iridescent blue sparkling liquid stills in the marble stone, complete with botanical flora bobbing aimlessly.  
“There’s more? You’re spoiling me.” He soaks in the room temperature tub, unwinding above bath salt gradually dissolving. You undoubtedly added a concerning amount of eucalyptus and lavender to the water, hoping it would miraculously restore him instantly. Positioning the stool behind him, you pull his hair back with a headband and start to mix a face mask in a small wooden bowl. His head lays in your lap, watching you diligently combine cream with medicinal powders and clay.  You brush the blend over his face and neck, cool to the touch. 
“Feels nice.” he breathes. “Doesn’t it? It’s made with-” you go on a passionate tangent about the ingredients included, he simply stares at you, the twinkle in your eyes while you trace his cheekbones. What did I do to deserve someone so kind and selfless, constantly seeking out my well-being and nurture- 
“Are you even listening?” you accuse. He snaps out of the trance, and nods unconvincingly. 
“I was.” 
“What did I say then?” 
“Mm, something something, your beautiful eyes and lips, I want to kiss them.” he drawls. You grunt disapprovingly, and place thin slices of cucumbers over his eyes. “No looking until it's over.” He pouts like an unruly child. You snicker and scoop a chunky clump of brown sugar scrub between your palms, rubbing together to coax warmth. Kneading the grains along his robust biceps and torso in wide circles, you’re sure you heard snoring at some point. Your hands unrolled a dull ache, and you wanted to stop, but his chest heaving deeply in relaxation pushed you to continue. You ladle water over the sugar and face mask, rubbing it dispersed. With a pristine face, you pat serum and moisturizer into the skin and admire the glowing haleness slowly returning. He sits up, freeing his eyes and gazes at you. 
“How do you feel?” 
“I always feel good whenever you’re around, my love” he flirts. You huff and drain the water. “You should dry off. I’m gonna give you a massage.” He steps out the tub to dry but attempts to follow you out of the room. You turn and he’s right behind you, his massive presence covering your silhouette. “Jing, I’m getting stuff ready. Can you wait here?” He says nothing and embraces your nude figure, nuzzled in your hair. You grab his arms, prying room to look up at his hiding face. You’re shocked to see tears brimming in his eyes threatening to overturn. You wipe them as they fall; somehow, he’s still grinning. He couldn’t register why he was crying yet. “Are you okay-” 
“I missed you greatly.” he murmurs. You kiss his nose and pillow his shaking arms and legs. Dispelling the fears and insecurities that strangle him to a gasp. It’s easier to breathe. "I missed you, too.” He picks you up bridal style, and you yelp. 
“Wait, but the massage” you contest. He walks to the bedroom, swaying you without a care in sight. “That won’t be necessary. I just want to hold you.” He lays you on your back and climbs over you. Despite all the space on your king sized bed, he intertwines your bareness with the velvety sheets, and locks you in his arms. His cuddles are cushiony and pure, cocooned like a life-sized teddy bear. You had numerous things planned today—you'd make him dinner, cater to him, watch a movie—now that you’re snuggled cozily, you couldn’t envision leaving this bed. “I didn’t get-” you yawn lengthily “-everything done.” 
“You've done more than enough. It’s time I take care of you.” He kisses your forehead, and your eyelids feel dense as they ultimately come to a close. He wished your eyes would remain open, he wanted to stare into them for as long as possible. “Truly, thank you, (Y/N). I needed this.”  
He listens to your soft breathing, your heartbeat pounding methodically against his. “I love you. So much” you say in trailing hushed tones before drifting to a distant dream. Maybe you’d dream about him, somewhere on a different planet with your children, spending forever together. For now, things are just as they were before.
“I love you more.” 
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sleepybbie · 7 months
Note
Hi Lily :) anon who requested the Blade thirst Drabble AND LET ME SAY WHEW THAT WAS HOT 🥵 I also loved your Dan Feng thirst drabble (two cocks omg) and I was wondering… could I send you a request for Dan Feng x reader x Yingxing thirst drabble please? Extra spicy 😏 thank you!!
𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 | dan feng & yingxing drabble
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a/n: oh my! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა i’ve been getting sooo much threesum requests lately, makes me realized if u guys want to be split open that badly (can’t blame u all either :3) tysm for requesting, darling<3
dan feng x fem!reader x yingxing
warning: threesum :,> anal and vaginal sex (they’re both just so excited! >:3) yingxing’s teases :( dan feng more on smooth talk <3 reader is yingxing’s lover ^^
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the xianzhou has always known to be quite the tranquil place during evenings, when the dawn finally closes its eyes for the night sky to arrive and let its stars and bright moon shine, it wouldn’t be a surprise of why you found yourself fucking yourself mindless on YINGXING’S aching cock as he lays down, watching you as he guides your hips on such a soothing and peaceful night.
however it was strange, these weren’t like the usual loving nights you and yingxing would often do…there was like an itch over your shoulder. like a new presence hiding in the rooms.
truthfully, you had no idea of why your lover was smirking up on you as you rode his dick, pushing yourself back and forth like a vulnerable individual before he toys with your breasts, pushing himself deeper into the serene comfort of the pillows as the scented candles fragrances the room. you knew how cocky he could be at some times, but you couldn’t shake this feeling looping over your head that he may as well be planning something.
he pumps himself further into your creamy walls, leaks of his release overflowing out from your drooling cunt while you still kept going, whining the blacksmith’s name like it was the only word you knew in your mind while you jumped up and down on his chest. the pleasure aches in your stomach, tears flying out from your eyelids..voice filling in the night air of your bedroom. you couldn’t stop your hips from thrusting down on him. it was good, too good, your mind filled with incoherence…
you should’ve had trusted your instincts when you felt like an uninviting presence lurking in your room…because before you could chase on your second release, a hand pushes you down on yingxing’s chest out of nowhere.
your heartbeat palpitates hard on your chest, pants going faint as a familiar voice from the back echoes in the room.
“stay down, just like that..”
was that…?
you tried to turn your head to see if it was really the voice of the high elder, however his palm immediately pushed you down, yingxing’s hand gripping on your sweaty thighs.
“look who decided to come. make haste now, my dearest here wishes her pleasure to be fulfilled” yingxing says, cupping your cheek lovingly. DAN FENG scoffs, his hands bring your hips up until he faces with your ass cheeks, cunt filled with the brim with his bosom friend’s cum. slowly did he spreads them apart, and your eyes went wide in realization. oh aeons…
you felt a tip slap at your other hole, and just by touch alone did you know he was big.
“w-wait—
“you can take both of us, yes? come on, i’m sure you can..” yingxing cooed, his thumb brushing a small tear from your flushed eyelids. “besides, it’s not only two you’ll be taking…”
wait what?
before you could utter another word, the stretch on your pussy lengthens more, your eyes rolling back to the back of your head when you felt two tips enter both of your holes, a high pitched moan choking out from your throat as dan feng manages to push himself inside of you. he stays still for a moment while you squirm, one cock plunged in your asshole while your core was plunged with two. they haven’t even started to move, yet you were already so loud. yingxing chuckles, his hand now on your hip as he moves his head to look at dan feng.
“i told you…”
“hmph, so she can take three…” you hear dan feng reply to him, however your mind was in a haze, trying to adjust to both of their sizes, your breath shaking from the aftershocks.
once they began to move, you were left with a babbling nonsense escaping your lips, feeling them hit the right spots everywhere in you. your tits bouncing while yingxing plays with your nipples, dan feng leaving bitemarks at the back of your neck as he fucks both your cunt and your asshole to the oblivion. your cries went louder, a tear falling down as the nasty wet sounds of skin to skin became more faster and harsher, sandwiched between the two members of the high cloud quintet.
“you’re doing amazing, sweetheart…never knew you could take three…”
“praising your lover in bed…hm…so that’s common?”
“oh no need to be so formal, dan feng..”
you couldn’t believe they were chatting so casually while the fucked your brain to pieces. their cocks weren’t in synch however unlike in their battles together, one was in while the other was out, bringing you a type of euphoric pleasure that was not like other in the luofu. yingxing’s thrusts were fast, gentle, but they never fail to hit the deepest parts within you. same goes for the high elder with his merciless moves of his hips, who seemed to enjoy the same as his dear friend did, holding on your arms while your head pushes back, staring at the ceiling from ecstasy. you were fucked stupid, to the point you couldn’t think straight, brain mushed with nothing but a begging wreck of lust.
“o-oh fuck, oh fuck…you feel so good…” yingxing groans, tongue slithering the valley between your breasts before he sucks deep in your neck, leaving yet another mark on you.
“hah…so this is how human reproduction feels like..”
“too bad for a vidyadhara,” yingxing teases him, and dan feng groans.
a tight knot folds in your stomach as they moved faster, fucking you with full force like it was the way to bring an end to the denizens of abundance. your poor cervix was being kissed all over and over again by their huge tips, non stop repeats. your mewls went higher, feeling your high approach at the edge of your stomach. yingxing and dan feng weren’t going to last much either…
“c-crap i think i’m gonna…”
“o-oh dear long..”
yingxing holds on your hips, picking up the pace as dan feng follows by. this was fast, far too fast…they were going to fucking break you at this point. in each increase of their speed, your climax spills out of your abused womb, a moaning mess filling your bedroom. no matter what you could never follow up with their quick paces. dan feng held you tight in place, his hands would leave bruises on your skin.
yingxing releases first, pumping you full with his cum until you were a crying mess, his load spilling out of you and on dan feng’s second cock, until it stains the sheets and onto the floor. fat plumps of his cum spilling all over. the vidyadhara’s grip was strong on your arms, leaving fingermarks on them until he too came a lot, releasing on both of your holes with his huge load, stuffing you full straight to your entrance. their releases mixed altogether along with yours, filling your holes to the brim.
your tongue lolled out from your mouth before you passed out and fell on yingxing’s chest. yingxing lets out a breathy laugh, pushing your sweaty strands of hair behind your ear before he kisses your forehead. dan feng finally pulls himself out of you, the mixture of his and yingxing’s cum leaking out of your hole. he pushes his hair back, watching as the trail from the shaft of his dick fall down to the floor.
“that…that wasn’t too bad…is she going to be alright though?” yingxing smiles at him, brushing your head as you slumbered on his chest.
“see? we should do this often more…what do you say?”
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sinnersweets · 1 month
Note
hmm idk where the request page is but can a request a short cute little oneshot of dogday and angel cuddling after a long day with Damian?
God this shouldn't have taken me this long I'm sorry! I hope this is good for you all!! T~T
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It was 8’o clock in the morning when my alarm went off. I sluggishly turned it off and got up to go use the bathroom. As I got up from the bed I noticed that DogDay wasn’t in bed. I looked over to the bathroom to see if he was in there, but the light was off. Odd. I then walked out of our room to go check on Damian. I knocked on his door but didn’t get an answer. I knocked again and still no answer. I was getting worried now. “Damian, you awake kiddo?” I said while opening his door. No sight of Damian anywhere in his room; however, his bed was made.  
I went down the stairs to see if maybe they both were in the kitchen. As I walked over to the kitchen something in my body told me to look out the window. When I looked out the window I sighed in relief and smiled. There standing outside was Damian and DogDay ready for today. They were both smiling really big and DogDay was wagging his tail. I opened the front door and leaned against the door frame. “I’m guessing you guys are ready for the park today?” “Yes!” “Yes!”  
--------------- 
As we approached the park DogDay and Damian were practically jumping out of their seats. Right as I pulled into a spot and put the car in park, they both unbuckled their seatbelts and bolted out of the car. “Okay....guess I’m unloading by myself then...” 
--------------- 
I found a nice, shaded area under a tree and decided to set the picnic blanket down in this spot. As I flattened out the blanket I looked over and saw that DogDay and Damian were already playing soccer together. It melted my heart seeing this.  
They played together for a good thirty minutes before coming back over to where I was. “Have a good game you too?” “Whew. I think our little kiddo has been holding back Angel. I’ve never seen him play like that before.” “That’s because Playtime was small for playing soccer.” Damian laughed and sat down on the blanket. While grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite out of it Damian said, “Hey mom, after lunch can you show me how to fly a kite?” “Don’t talk with your mouth full kiddo, but yes I can.” I looked over to DogDay and saw that he was laying down with his eyes closed. “Would you like to join us dear?” With his eyes still closed DogDay smiled and said, “No thank you Angel, I think I’ll take a little nap.”  
--------------- 
“That’s it kiddo! You’re doing it!” Damian had never flown a kite before, yet he picked up on it fast! I took out my phone and started taking pictures of Damian. “Too bad Dad is taking a nap.” Damian said while pulling the sting on the kite to keep it steady. “Yeah, too bad.” I said and looked behind me but when I looked over to where DogDay was he wasn’t there. I turned and looked back to Damain but was met with DogDays face close to mine. “Boo!” “AH!” I jumped back a little bit. DogDay laughed while Damian rolled his eyes. “Dad, you know mom gets scared easily.” “I know kiddo, but your mother looks cute when she’s scared.” I took a deep breath before saying, “Uh-huh. I don’t think I look cute in the Halloween pictures.” I shiver at the thought of Halloween, what a terrifying day that was. 
DogDay closed his eyes and sniffed up into the air before saying, “We should leave soon the air smells grouchy.” “Grouchy?” Damian asked while pulling down the kite. “Means it’s going to storm.” “Oh.” Me and Damian both said. “Boo, so much for a fun day at the park.” Damian kicked at the ground. “Hold on there kiddo, who said we couldn’t have fun in the rain?” Suddenly Damians eyes lit up. “You mean we can play in the rain?!!” I nodded my head yes and Damian jumped up into the air all happy like. “Woohoo! Yay!” Damian then ran towards the car. Me and DogDay just looked at each other and smiled before heading over to our picnic spot to pick up everything.  
--------------- 
Once we got home is when the rain started to come down. We all hurried inside and changed into our raincoats and boots. Damian was the first one to head back outside, followed by myself and then DogDay. There were already so many puddles forming around our driveway. Damian splashed in them, and I would also splash in them but only with one foot; didn’t want to make a big splash on him. 
I wish that could’ve been said for my husband. He jumped in all the puddles he could find and managed to get Damian and I soaked; despite wearing raincoats. “Oops, sorry...” 
--------------- 
The fire place was going and mine and Damians clothes laid near the fire to dry them off. “But I don’t want to take the icky medicine.” “People who get their feet wet must learn to take their medicine.” I said while holding a spoon full of medicine for him. “But medicine is ickyyyy.” “Hey, what happened to my strong and tough boy huh?” “I’m still your strong and tough boy dad, but medicine is sooo grossss.” DogDay croutched down in front of Damian and said, “Me and your mom are gonna take the medicine too, and you know I’m not a fan of medicine either.”  
Damian looked like he was in deep thought before he opened his mouth for the medicine. I put the spoon in his mouth, and he closed his mouth and swallowed down the medicine. “Taste like strawberry!” I then grabbed another spoon for DogDay and handed it to him to take. DogDay looked at it for a while before taking the spoon and putting it in his mouth. “Mhm, not bad. Where did you find this kind of flavor medicine Angel?” I poured myself a spoonful while saying, “Just at the drug store. I just looked through a lot of bottles trying to find a good flavor one.” I took the spoon and put it in my mouth. 
After we all took the medicine, we all relaxed in the living room watching a movie. Damian was asleep laying on the floor with a pillow and a blanket while me and DogDay were on the couch snuggled up next to each other with a blanket. I rested my head on DogDays shoulder, and he rested his head on mine. “This was a fun day.” “Mhm, I want to keep having days like these with you and Damian Angel.” “Me too.”  
<3 
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Could you do an imagine where F!reader is sitting watching tv with the 141 boys + konig and an advertisement for birth control comes on and they just looks at the reader horrified when it lists the side effects because those side effects sound like the scariest shit ever when they read them off. I can just imagine the horror on Konig’s fave and the concern from Ghost and it made me giggle.
Hope you like it @clonewarsnerd ❤️❤️
141, König and Graves reacting to a reader on BC
Price
He usually doesn’t pay attention to the tv when it’s on (unless football is on) and mainly uses it for white noise
He prefers to read a book or just to nap on the couch while it’s on than watching any of the boring shows on tv
You were sitting beside him dozing off on his shoulder as well
However his ears caught on to the commercial about brith control and the laundry list of side effects that were being rapidly said
He just looked really confused and then look at you with slight concern
He knew that birth control had side effects, he’s not stupid, but he didn’t realize it was that many
He’ll definitely ask you if suffer from any of the symptoms when you wake up
Ghost
TV is strictly a white noise for him he rarely ever finds anything interesting on especially if it’s cable
Both of you were just doing you own thing sim the living room not really talking and not paying attention to the tv
He was picking up around the living room and dusting when he started to dust the tv
That’s when he saw the birth control commercial and stopped to watch it as it started listing off the side effects
“Bloody hell…” he mumbled to himself feeling a little concern for you
All you did was let out a soft chuckle at his astonishment
Soap
He watches too much tv and usually gets annoyed by commercials so he tunes them out
He’s the type of guy who skips all advertisements if he can because he doesn’t want to wait to get back to whatever he was watching
He was scrolling through his phone as the commercials went on, you laying your head on his lap doing the same
That was until the birth control commercial started and it somehow piqued his interest
He listened to the side effects horrified and looked down at you a
“Jesus, really?”
“There’s a lot more they’re missing, I have the paper in the box if you want to see it.”
He spent a good while reading that paper
Gaz
He likes to listen to the TV while he does other things using it as kind of a podcast
He hangs onto all the words and usually makes comments about them to himself and to you if you’re room the room with him
He was cooking dinner, the tv up loud enough for him to hear from the kitchen as you sat on the counter to watch him
The commercial started and he didn’t think too much of it until the side effects started
“Fucking hell that’s all true?” He wondered
“For the most part.” You chuckled at his expression.
“Whew…maybe you should get off it.”
You just shrugged and laughed
König
His favorite pastime with you is to watch shows and movies
He rarely ever watches cable but when you’re both caught up on the shows it’s the only thing to put on
He pays attention most of the time especially when you’re talking about whatever’s showing on the tv
The commercial starts and he’s watching it intently, his eyes going wide as he hears the side effects
“No way…” he mumbles and you chuckle. “Is it that bad for you?”
You just shrug and tell him that it’s different for everybody
He shakes his head in shock and starts asking you how it feels for you
Graves
Like Soap he's kind of addicted to the TV but he actually doesn't really mind the commercials
It gives him enough time to go to the bathroom and get a snack for you both
You both are sitting on the couch when the birth control commercial comes on and he's just staring at the TV with knitted eyebrows
"Jesus that sounds awful." He commented and you nodded without looking up at your phone. "You alright, babe?"
"Yeah I'm fine. Hasn't killed me yet." You joke and he shakes his head with a smirk
He definitely makes sure that you're okay and sure a shit does what you tell him to now that he knows what the birth control does to your body
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euovennia · 1 year
Note
I am yet again requesting headcanons for the 141 (or whoever you want <3) with a reader who has an angry resting face. And to add onto that, they are very expressive with their love but it comes off as aggressive (not on purpose) because they always look, you know, mad. Like when reader says "I love you," it sounds like a threat and really, they look like they wanna kill them, but they don’t.
whew, i'm so sorry for the wait on this! i took a small break from tumblr so i could focus on finishing some assignments i had for my classes, but they're all completed and turned in so i should be good for now! also i wasn't 100% sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, so i tried to write it to where it could be interpreted as both. thank you for requesting and, as always, i hope you enjoy :)
warnings: none other than the fact that i don't know how to stop myself from typing more than i need to
summary: the 141 learns to adjust to life with their newest recruit; you.
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john 'soap' mactavish
when price first introduces you to the group, he can't help but feel like he's done something wrong
and honestly no one can really blame him for feeling that way
the expression that paints your face when you make eye contact with him practically screams, "sleep with one eye open"
and while it is mildly terrifying, he only sees it as a challenge
because in his mind, if he can get the mighty ghost to warm up to him, he can get anyone to warm up to him
so as soon as price cuts you loose from the brief introductions, he's already right by your side pestering you with various questions
and while it was a bit off-putting, you weren't really surprised because price had already told you all about soap before he decided he wanted you on his team
so you just kinda stood there and let him fire off his questions while answering them with that angry expression and bored monotone voice that he can't help but love
like you're standing there, arms crossed with perhaps one of the most pissed off expressions he's ever seen in his life but all his mind can think is >:(
needless to say, he doesn't take your prickly exterior too seriously and it's because of this he's able to get closer to you a lot quicker than the other members do
and it's because of this he tends to vouch for you a lot more to the other members when it comes to getting to know you
"they're not that bad, i swear!"
"johnny, they look like they wanna rip your arm off every time you're near them."
"but they don't, that's the funny part!"
best believe this man is fighting for his life whenever your rbf gets brought into the conversation
and i imagine that one day you actually manage to overhear one of these little debates/conversations (tbh they could go either way with how divided they can be over it, especially when it's gaz vs soap)
and you can't just ignore the way your heart warms as you hear soap valiantly defend your honor
it's one of the few times you're genuinely thankful for his big mouth
after listening in to the conversation for a few more minutes you eventually decide to walk away, heart full and the smallest of smiles pulling at the edge of your lips
i think it goes without saying that you go a little sweet on him after that encounter
well
as sweet as you can go when you're the human embodiment of >:(
at least in the opinion of soap
you don't really see the resemblance tbh
anyway
you start doing little things for him
things like offering to take watch for him when you're both on a mission because you noticed that he hadn't really bothered getting any rest
sitting by his side and letting him ramble on about his family, especially how he always begged his parents to let him stay with his nan over the summer because she owned a little family farm that he absolutely loved to run around on
and even the time you learned how to make scotch pie using his mom's recipe he had tucked away in his room
no matter how much he may deny it, that last one had him tearing up as soon as he took a bite
but honestly, can you blame him?
the man barely gets to visit his parents back home because of his work and it crushes him
honestly, it was probably one of the first few things he confided in you when you first started talking
so naturally when price announces that the 141 has been approved for a two week leave, you don't hesitate in logging onto the computer and buying him the first tickets back to scotland
what you do hesitate with is actually giving them to him
so you decide to gloss over that part completely and instead opt for shoving the tickets inside an plain envelope with his name scribbled on the front and a small note that simply reads, "go." before sliding it under his door the night before everyone is scheduled to depart from base
the moment soap gets his hands on those tickets he can't help the way he runs through the halls and bursts into your room to give you the biggest hug you've ever had in your life
unfortunately for you both, you'd already left base by the time he discovered the tickets
and so with a heavy heart, soap makes his way back to his room before packing his bags with a new vigor
the plane leaves in six hours, but he's so excited he can't help but want to arrive early
needless to say those are probably the best two weeks of his life
and while the others are interested in hearing all about his trip, he simply brushes them off in favor watching the door so he can be there for the exact moment you walk in
and after making him wait more than what he felt was necessary, you finally walk in
and this man
the way he shoots up from his seat and runs over to hug you
it's almost enough to send you both flying to the ground
but luckily you've got some stellar balance and manage to save yourselves from being teased by the rest of the team
but with the way soap is squeezing onto you while repeatedly whispering, "thank you," into the nape of your neck, you don't doubt they'll make fun of you for that
even with the mild embarrassment you feel, you simply wrap your arms around the scottish man and offer him a few pats on the back
and as sweet as it is for the other men to witness such a tender scene, they can't help but notice how upset you look
it's almost laughable
and as much as they want to step in and tell soap to back off, they can't help but notice the way you cling onto soap with that soft look in your eyes
so they remain quiet as you and soap hang onto each other, hearts full of warmth
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kyle 'gaz' garrick
i'm gonna say it now
out of anyone in the 141, he was probably the one most intimidated by you
he's the youngest out of everyone and so it stands that, naturally, he has less experience than others
it's for this reason i think he's so keen on staying close to price
i mean the man practically plucked him off the streets and said, "you're mine now," so i think it's reasonable that gaz grows a tad more attached to price than the other members
so when he catches a few glimpses of you around base barking orders at the recruits and slamming them into the mats during sparring sessions, he's not exactly dying to meet you
even so, he finds he's not too worried about the possibility
with how often the 141 departs base to go on various missions and how you always seem to be too caught up in whatever you're doing at the time to be bothered to even glance his way, he eventually comes to the conclusion that you'll never meet
until one day price strolls into the common area where he and the rest of the team are minding their own business with you trailing right beside him looking aggravated as ever
he's already a bit uneasy with the fact you now know where the team goes to relax, but that unease slowly shifts to downright horror when price reveals that you're the newest member of the team
now gaz is usually a pretty easygoing and friendly guy so any chance to meet and bond with new people is always bound to be a good time in his book
but he can't help the shiver that crawls up his spine whenever you're around
seriously, who or what made you look so pissed off all the time?
anyway
because he's so hesitant of being around you, he tries his hardest not to bother you
which basically means he tries not to be in the same room as you
and while you may not really notice or care, the rest of the team certainly does
especially price
he's the type of man who prides himself on having a team that knows they can all rely on one another on and off the field and so he'll be damned if you and gaz are the ones to ruin his little streak
so guess who gets assigned to accompany you and the recruits on your morning workouts from now on?
gaz!
and while he's not necessarily thrilled about the idea of being forced into such close proximity to you, especially first thing in the morning, he respects price enough to not question his decision and just ends up going along with it
and at first he doesn't really pay you much attention in an effort to not do anything to accidentally make you even more upset than he already assumes you are
but then he starts to notice something
he notices the way the recruits light up whenever they see you, whether it be during the morning workout sessions or when you're walking around base
and it baffles him because you just look so upset, he can't possibly imagine why they're all so keen on sending you wide smiles or enthusiastic waves
but one day he looks just a little bit closer and he can see the faintest hint of amusement on your face as your lips showcase the ghost of a smile
that's when he really starts to pay attention
and suddenly he can't help but feel a little ashamed of himself
because now he can practically feel his heart melt every time you interact with the recruits
like how you would bring extra ice-cold water bottles to the morning workouts for the recruits who'd forget to bring their own
or the way you wouldn't hesitate to slide them some money if they mentioned being hungry while you were around
and especially how you don't hesitate to lend an ear for them if they seemed to be troubled by something
it's in those few little moments that he can see just the tiniest cracks through your annoyed expression and heated glares
you're not angry at all, he decides, just real shit at expressing yourself
and upon deciding this, he realizes you're not so scary anymore
so now instead of avoiding you like the plague, he actively seeks you out
at first it's to help you out with carrying the extra water bottles for the recruits in the morning and planning the workouts for the week
but then it turns into him asking to sit with you at the mess hall over dinner and keeping each other company in the commons area
and as much as he tries not to, he can't help the giddiness that floods his body when you start to show him that aggressive love he sees you dish out to the recruits
shoving snacks into his hands when you notice he hasn't eaten in a while
quietly sitting with him while he goes through paperwork because you both know he has a tendency to get distracted
and his personal favorite, draping your jacket over him when you walk in on him sleeping anywhere that isn't his room
he always wakes up with a smile tugging on his lips
and despite how cold and distant you may look while doing these things, he doesn't give it much attention anymore
not when he can see the love and care that's reflected in your eyes
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simon 'ghost' riley
despite you and ghost having similar exteriors, it becomes more and more apparent to gaz and soap that you're actually quite different
which isn't a bad thing, of course! just a bit unexpected
but it's because of this striking difference that you and simon tend to keep a majority of your interactions on the field
and you both are more than happy to keep it this way
gaz and soap however, are not
so naturally they put together a plan; a plan that consists of soap giving you his most treasured tactical pen so you can use it to write away in that little journal of yours on the ride back from missions just so he can later "confront" ghost and admonish him for stealing said pen
and during all this, gaz simply remains on the sidelines just looking pretty
anyway
after laying into simon for a good ten minutes, soap walks away from the encounter with a small smile before walking up to gaz and saying something like, "now we wait"
and they do wait
patiently
but after a full two weeks pass by and neither gaz or soap can find any evidence of their so called "master plan" working, they can't help but feel a little discouraged
unbeknownst to them, it totally worked
just not in the way they envisioned
you see, by the time soap came up to simon to lecture him about stealing his pen, ghost had already come to notice you scribbling into your notebook with it
so once soap had finally decided to leave him alone, he immediately confronted you about framing him for such a crime
but you just kinda stare up at him with that annoyed look of yours before revealing soap had willingly given it to you
and things just kinda click into place for the two of you; soap wanted to get you talking
and while you and simon had to admit it wasn't a bad plan, you didn't want to give the scotsman the satisfaction of knowing it had actually worked
so whenever you and simon find yourselves in the company of the rest of the team, you decide to remain distant
but when it's just the two of you?
you're straight chilling
especially when you visit him in his room or vice versa
like just imagine the two of you drinking tea that simon was nice enough to make and watching war movies while bashing all the inaccuracies and bad calls the characters make
or when the two of you are out and about on base free from the prying eyes of gaz and soap because they're out doing their own thing
you and simon love finding random groups of rowdy soldiers just to intimidate them
i don't know about you, but i can definitely see simon just standing there with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed while you rest your hands on your hips with your lips pulled into a frown
price definitely gets complaints about the two of you
he does nothing about them
and for a while that's pretty much the gist of how you and simon spend your time together
but i like to imagine that after a particularly rough mission, simon would seek you out just to sit with you
and i can see him as a stress smoker so when he finally does manage to find you and take a seat beside you, you slide him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter
he doesn't ask how you know his cigarette preference, but instead gives you a small nod of approval before pulling up his mask over lips and taking a drag
and that's how you spend your night
just sitting beside each other as you watch the evening sky gradually begin to fill with stars
i think it would depend on how bad the mission went in order to determine exactly how long the two of you stay sitting under the stars, but it doesn't matter because it'll end the same way; you reaching over and giving simon's hand a quick squeeze with a small, "get some sleep, simon. you need it," before you walk away
and he finds himself confused to two reasons
reason one: why did you grab his hand why did he like it?
reason two: how can you say such sweet words but still look so mad?
as much as he wants to play that moment over in his head just to make sure he was remembering things right, he decides against it in favor of heeding your words and getting some sleep
but it's after that moment he can't help but notice how your mannerisms have changed
not only are your words of reassurance more apparent than before, he's also noticed you have a tendency to give his hand/shoulder a reassuring squeeze every now and then
he can't help the small smile that threatens to pull at his lips when you do
but he also can't help but notice how distant and reserved your face looks when you do all of these things
he doesn't really mind it though
but he eventually does bring it up to you one day
it's probably after he tells you one of his god awful dad jokes
like he'll look over at you and notice your sour expression and say something like, "don't look so pissed, they're not that bad."
and you'll respond with a tilt of your head as you tell him, "i'm not pissed. i like your jokes."
then he'll nudge your shoulder before telling you, "with that face? coulda fooled me."
and you'll roll your eyes in faux annoyance as you brush him off with a simple, "that's just my face."
and then he'll look down at you, thankful for his mask so you can't see the small smile making its way onto his face
he might even say something dumb and cheesy like, "i know. i like it."
and you give him one of your rare smiles
and i could end it there and say the two of you are bffs
or i could sprinkle in something about soap running up on the two of you chanting, "my plan worked, my plan worked!"
that's for you to decide
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