#but it's here for your consideration nonetheless!

[thestalwartheart]

James Bond doesn’t like crowds.

Q’s only just started noticing. He supposes the fact that he’s noticed at all is a result of spending more time with Bond outside the office and the field.

Dating, some people might call it. He and Bond never bother to call it anything.

Really, the aversion to crowds should have been obvious. Q doesn’t like that it’s taken him long to catch on, but now that he knows, it throws a dozen past conversations in a different light.

Whenever Q suggests taking the Tube anywhere, Bond declines and offers to drive instead. It's something Q has, until now, put down to a) Bond’s well-known love of cars and b) a snobbish disdain for public transport. On their admittedly rare weekends away, Bond never suggests a city break. They always go somewhere quiet; often, it’s somewhere rural. Q had assumed it was because they live in a city (at least he does—Bond never stays anywhere long enough to be considered a local), and Bond was keen to shag him somewhere without the kind of walls the neighbours could hear through.

But there are tells to say otherwise.

Chief among them is the one in front of him right now. In the middle of Trafalgar Square, which is bustling with the signs of weekend life, Q tries to link his arm with Bond’s.

Bond flinches at his touch.

“James?”

Bond pointedly doesn’t look at him, though he does relax ever so slightly under Q’s hand. Yet, as they walk on, Q can tell there’s something still off.

“You know,” says Q, at the bottom of some of the most famous stairs in London, “I’m not much in the mood for art, after all.”

It was a romantic idea to come to the National Gallery. To see the Turner paintings again. To listen to Bond groan at Q playing the pretentious art critic while he reduced all the nude paintings down to cheeky one-liners. It was, perhaps, too romantic an idea for what they are to each other. Q parks that thought, leaves it to worry about in the midnight hours. The more pressing matter is that it’s too uncomfortable for Bond to be here at all.

“You’re terrible at lying,” Bond tells him.

“Yes, well. So are you, sometimes.” Q looks around at the busy square. The sky is turning that dark and foreboding grey that signals rain is on the way. The fountains look dull and coppery under it. “I know you hate crowds. What do you say we get out of here and go for a drink?”

It’s a gamble. It’s always a gamble trying to guess at Bond’s moods, but today, the gamble pays off. Bond offers Q a fond, relieved smile and squeezes the hand Q has resting on his arm.

“Thank you.”

Inside, Q warms. No doubt it shows on his cheeks. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss against Bond’s chapped, chilly mouth, one that promises more kisses to come. It’s the kind of kiss Q likes best: slow and thoughtful. Cosy.

All the while, he promises himself that he’ll pay more attention to Bond’s tells. He prides himself on knowing his agents, after all. What sort of Quartermaster—what sort of friend or, well, whatever—would he be if he didn’t?

#00q #my fic #idk if i'll post this on ao3 since it's more of a headcanon and it needs polished #but it's here for your consideration nonetheless!

[qvrcll]

the little things they do — luffy, zoro, nami, usopp & sanji.

summary: what do they do that makes you tick? that makes your heart glide through your chest and fester at your throat? that makes you glissade through hell itself, for the pleasure that it brings?

warnings: slight tension but no nsfw, fluff, nothing too bad!

notes: i started binge watching op / opla recently and decided to give i a go at writing for them! literally could not stop my fingers from typing this out. i’m a little new to op, so i hope you enjoy nonetheless :-] i promise im working on another part of college melodrama! i just wanted to try something new to get the brain juices flowing <3

sanji — moves you by your waist

sanji is keen with his women, but with you, he’s even more so. he’s gentle with it, even if he doesn’t need to be, because you make him aberrantly nervous, yet vilely confident in his etiquette — and today just cements it. it’s a boring day, and that prompts you to keep yourself stationed in the kitchen, where the rest of the straw hats find their own circles to situate themselves in (pure boredom, much to sanji’s dismay). the space is overcrowding and you’re halfway into disputing something that luffy insists is true fact, when sanji’s mellow palms come to gripe gently, carefully, at your waist — “excuse me, beautiful,” he mouths, fiendish and close to tasting his teeth in a marvellous grin as he effortlessly moves you, gingerly in so many ways, so he can reach the cabinet. you stutter out some convoluted version of a yes, o-of course! … safe to say, you can barely pay much consideration to luffy’s rebuttal as the tepedity of the cook’s hands lay in repetitive, illusive strokes against your hips for more times than one to just consider it an act to retrieve spices from a cabinet.

zoro — has one hand in your back pocket

he’s silent, mischievous with his antics. the upper part of your brain warns you of his skepticism, his cruelly hard body, his thick cheek. but your heart buds violently under what you can only assume is his effect. and it’s only furthered, when you are too close to him for comfort in this mini-party the crew has going on atop the going merry. you spot him nodding off in the corner of your eye, barely even knowing of his current footing in his chair as he slumps off. you urge him to go to bed, to ditch the drinks and gain a full night’s rest. but he shakes his head stiffly, his rather large hand slinking into the back pocket of your pants, where it lays dormant and so, so close to squeezing. “stay. this way, i won’t lose you.” you fail to yelp, because every nerve has been short-wired. twisted. re-twisted. re-wired. you can only stand close, fluxing against the warmth of his palm in your back pocket, as the faintest of reds colour his cheeks. a smile is welcome.

luffy — hugs your waist

being a captain is luffy’s share of the burden that comes with his quest of finding the one piece. he swears its easier than he allows it, but his body is different on days like these. days when he’s laying, tired and inaccessible to his usual bouts of energy. days like these, you can’t navigate around his lethargy, that comes slow and unmoving, similar to his resolve. his arms are around you, tight and interlocking further like a snake, his face buried against your stomach as he uses you as a stationary pillow. and you try to remind him that there are things you need to resume, things you need to conduct on the going merry, but when you turn to move, excuse yourself, he tightens, and his nose brushes against the sensitive skin beneath your button up in a nimble attempt to get you to stay still. “mmm… five—no, ten more minutes… i promise.”

nami — rests her head in the crook of your neck

it’s not an easy job sorting the day’s itinerary into tidy, little boxes and shelves, whilst the boat rocks to a cathartic beat around you. nami is here, to help you, but you are unable to shake off the tension wearing you down. your skin feels like paper and the bottom side of your shoes are sticky with sea water and your hands feel like rubber. you could rival luffy. it makes you feel awful, gets you hot and antsy so quickly, that nami blinks twice. of course, you apologise. you always have. but nami gets the directive before you do, and she reaches forward to hug you close to her chest. her nose tickles your neck and the space is living with her breath — the crook of your neck. “how about we stay like this for a bit, hm?” it’s more for your own means to find ground amongst your frustrations, to help you calm down, but nami has always loved being close to you. she always has.

usopp — holds you close to protect you

the great captain usopp. mighty warrior of the sea. well, not the great when the sea is colliding into rows of wood at maximum speed, which rocks the entire great vessel. you try to be less of a deterrence, try to find your own standing in the room you’re in with usopp, but your body is thrown across the room in one fell swoop, where you meet halfway into usopp’s chest. there’s a messy string of syllables that leave your lips, a creaky apology as you try to maintain some space between you (for the sake of your enervated heart), but he’s quicker. an ability derived from his sharp-shooter skills, you’re sure. his arm wraps around your waist and he allows you to crowd his chest. allows you to hold him like a pillar against the raging sea when it sends a rather alarming rock to the ship. “hold on tight — you’ve got nothing to worry about with captain usopp here. you hear?”

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x yn #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x yn #nami x reader #nami x you #nami x yn #usopp x reader #usopp x you #usopp x yn #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x yn

[aurorawritestoescape]

FEED ME || Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,3k

Summary: Joel is hungry but not for dinner

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, food play, object insertion, m/f!oral, swearing, cum eating, Joel is a horny menace, fingering, a bit of degradation, Joel can pick up reader, reader wears a dress, has hair that can be pulled

A/n: hugs and smooches to @iamasaddie for the gif🌸

MASTERLIST

*****

“What are we making?”

You jump hearing Joel’s gruff voice right at your ear.

“Joel! I’m holding a knife!” you exclaim, pressing your free hand to your chest. Your heart is booming under your palm as you are silently cursing your sneaky husband.

He hugs you from behind, caging you against the counter, and you breathe out your tension, feeling his warm body pressed to your back.

“What are you cooking, baby?” His scruff is rubbing your shoulder as he’s pushing the fabric of your home dress out of his way and kisses the spot at the crease of your neck.

You smile already melting from this cute gesture but don’t turn around. You focus back on the task at hand - chopping a pepper.

“Salad,” you reply.

He hums and you feel his hands glide from your waist down to your sides. While you’re working the knife, trying not to cut your finger off, he bunches up the skirt of your dress and his warm palms grab your hips.

“Nah-ah,” you slither out of his embrace and step to the sink. “I’m hungry, Joel,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt for refusing him but nonetheless enjoying the way he glares at you under his brows, hands still braced on the counter. He looks so sexy like this.

“You can wait until after the dinner, right?”

You give him a sweet smile before turning on the water. You grab a cucumber out of a big bowl and start washing it. Joel’s intent stare is focused on you while your hands are gliding around the vegetable. You forget about your audience for a second doing a thorough job cleaning the cucumber until it squeaks under your palms. Suddenly Joel curses under his breath and storms out of the room.

You furrow your brows, confused by his behavior and hoping that you haven’t offended him. But Joel is caring and always attentive to your needs, even when he’s thinking with his perfect cock.

So you dry the cucumber and return to your chopping board.

Joel doesn’t sneak up on you this time but you still jump when you hear him shout, “DON’T! Don’t cut it!”

You freeze clutching the knife in your hand, but now it’s trembling with rage rather than with fear like before.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You shrill and turn around before throwing the knife on the counter.

Joel walks to one of the cupboards, opens it and after a few seconds of consideration takes something out.

Your eyes are wide and you hope the heat of your fiery glower can burn him. It seems that he feels it, judging by the way he inches towards you with a little apologetic smile, holding out a protein bar.

“Sorry for scaring you, baby,” he coos, stepping up to you, “Here. Have a snack.”

“I don’t want a fucking snack, Joel,” you grumble looking up at the man from behind your eyebrows, “From now on you’re banned from the kitchen when I’m cooking, you hear me?

“Yeah, yeah. But after today, ‘k?” He opens the protein bar and brings it to your lips. You don’t eat it, standing immovable in front of him, still throwing daggers at his handsome face.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I really want you.” He puts the bar on the counter and his hands start gently rubbing your arms, moving up and down. He pecks your cheek, the other one, plants a kiss on your nose and forehead. His moustache tickles you and you giggle trying to dodge the kisses he’s peppering all over your face.

With your palms on his broad chest, you give up and let him embrace you. He presses his hips to yours and you feel him hard against your mound.

You whimper, blaming your weak pussy for the way you crumble only after sensing the shape of his stiff cock.

Joel licks his lips and leans down to give you a heady kiss, passionate but soft. His hands are touching you everywhere - kneading your breasts, squeezing your ass cheeks, running through your hair and pulling on it lightly.

Soon you’re moaning into his mouth, soaking your panties, and buck your hips into his.

“Oh, what is it? Thought you were hungry, baby. Guess your slutty pussy wants to swallow my cock more, huh?”

You whine nuzzling his neck while a fire starts burning inside your core. Dinner be damned, you want to be filled with his cock.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks, pushes the board and the knife to the side and lifts you, setting you on the counter.

In a second your panties are discarded on the floor and Joel is kneeling next to them.

He grabs your ankle and pushes your leg up, placing one foot on the counter. Your glistening pussy blooms for him and you bite your lip when cold air hits your heated folds.

Not waiting for an invitation, Joel latches onto your clit and you mewl with pleasure, eyes shut, hands pulling on his hair. His hot tongue is swirling eights against your bud while his thick fingers prod your wet hole before he pushes them in and starts pumping in and out. He curves them just right and you come undone, clit twitching against his tongue, pussy clenching on his digits.

Joel pulls them out and licks them clean while you’re panting, mind and vision hazy after a bright orgasm.

Joel gets up and while you’re reveling in the post orgasmic euphoria you don’t notice his hand sneaking behind you.

Something cold touches your leg and you open your eyes seeing Joel slide a tip of the cucumber up and down your inner thigh.

"Joel, what are you doing?" you giggle nervously trying to close your legs.

"Shh... l've got an idea," he says, holding your legs open for him with his big hands on your inner thighs. "All your fault, sweetheart. When you were washing it...Damn it. The way your hands glided over this thing. My dick loved it."

"Ehm,” is the only thing you can say. You're surprised and even more so when he takes out a condom out of his pocket. You haven't used one in a while with you being on the pill and him being the biggest fan of creampies.

"I can, right, baby?" He asks before opening the package with his teeth and pulling the condom out.

"Do you... what do you..?" You mumble trying to gather your thoughts after the recent orgasm and wrap your head around whatever his intention is.

Your jaw drops when you watch him put the condom on the long thick vegetable like it's some weird sex ed class and he says,

"Gonna fuck you with this cucumber, 'k?"

“But Joel…it’s big,” you mewl, eyeing the thing and trying to imagine it in your pussy.

“My cock is big, baby, and you take it so well. And I’ll get you ready, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

You look at the cucumber, then into Joel’s pleading eyes and feel your pussy get curious and start tingling again at the promise of something long and thick stuffed inside it.

You nod and Joel beams at you and takes you in his arms.

“Let’s get you to the bed.”

***

A few moments later you’re lying on your bed, completely naked, with a couple of pillows stuffed under your back, so you could see and control what’s about to happen to your pussy.

Joel’s sitting on his heels between your legs, spotting a giant tent in his boxers but he doesn’t do anything about it. His hand is gripping your knee, and he’s holding a bottle of lube in the other, warming it up. The cucumber is on the bed next to your hip, looking thicker and longer than Joel’s cock. And Joel’s cock is huge. You swallow loudly and Joel notices your tension.

“Breathe, baby,” Joel says, giving you a warm smile. “I’ll be careful,” he murmurs and you know he will. Something warm and fuzzy moves in your stomach and you whisper back, “I trust you.”

His eyes are blown with lust, lips glistening and you feel you can come just from an image of him being so thirsty for you.

His fingers trail from your knee to your pussy until he brings them to your clit and begins gently stroking it.

Joel puts the lube on the bed and slowly pushes three fingers into your hole, palm up. They move in and out easily but apparently it’s not enough.

“Play with your tits, sweetheart. C’mon,”

He doesn’t have to repeat it, in a second you’re kneading your breasts, twitching your hardened nipples and your pussy clenches as a new wave of arousal ripples through your body. You moan and rock your hips desperate for more stimulation.

“Joel, stick it in me already!”

He chuckles as his little finger joins the other three inside your pussy.

“Attagirl. Ready?”

You nod and open your thighs wider. Joel's digits leave your stretched hole and he gets the unconventional sex toy ready, squirting some lube on it and spreading it with his fingers. Caressing your bud with one hand, he brings the cucumber to your crying hole and nudges it with the tip.

You breathe in sharply feeling something cold and hard at the softest and warmest place of your body.

You whimper when he slides the firm vegetable between your folds and then starts slowly pushing it in your wet entrance. The stretch makes your muscles tense but Joel swirls your clit between his fingers and the dull pain subsides almost instantly.

“Tell me and I’ll stop,” he says, love and affection coating his voice.

Joel doesn’t tear his eyes from the sight of him feeding this huge cucumber to your pussy. He inserts a few inches of the stiff vegetable in and pulls it out almost to the end and then pushes it in again, deeper now.

He repeats these actions a few times and you whimper, clutching the sheets with your fingers as the cucumber’s bumps are deliciously massaging your walls.

“Damn it, baby, I wanna be this thing so fucking much right now,” Joel groans and grips your thigh harder.

“Yeah?” you breathe out, fluttering your eyes shut when you feel the tip rub against your soft spot.

You love when Joel's cock ruins your little cunt but you’re experiencing such an unusual novice sensation at this moment that you don’t want it to leave your pussy yet.

“Don’t stop, Joel. Please,” You plead as your cunt clenches around the vegetable.

“Fuck, look at it.”

His hand leaves the cucumber and when your walls contract, your cunt sucks it deeper on its own. You’re both mesmerized, eyes half lidded and hazy, mouths slightly opened, watching the cucumber stick out of your hungry hole.

“She’s swallowing it on her own. Greedy little pussy. You’re really enjoying it, huh?”

You nod eagerly and he smiles.

“That’s my girl.”

“Joel?” You call when he gets a hold of the cucumber again. “Come here. Give me your cock.”

You motion to the spot next to you on the bed.

“But don’t stop fucking me with it,” you hastily add, earning a chuckle from Joel.

“At this rate you won’t need me anymore,” he complains, pouting his lips but breathing into a grin.

“Never, I love the taste of your cock too much.”

Joel gently pulls the cucumber out of your pussy and gets closer to your face.

He stands on his knees and pulls his cock out. It’s painfully hard, bobbing over your face and dripping precum everywhere.

“Oh, Joel, give it.” You lick your lips and lift yourself on your elbows.

Your mouth reaches his fat head and you lick and suck it, drinking his salty precum. His desperate moan makes you feel slightly guilty for not offering to blow him earlier.

Joel leans down a little and starts fucking you with the cucumber again. You take his length deeper in your mouth and suck on his stiff cock caressing the underside with your tongue. His soft lower belly rubs against your forehead while he’s thrusting the vegetable in and out with faster strokes. You’re a complete mess, the mixture of lube and your slick sliding down to your asshole and soaking the bedding under you.

“Fuck…won’t last, sweetheart. Your mouth is killing me…damn, wish you could see your pussy, baby…you’re talking it so fucking well…my perfect girl.”

You gasp around his cock when he leans lower and takes your throbbing clit between his lips again. He’s sloppily licking your folds, sucking on your sensitive bud and you feel the warmth of your upcoming climax turn into scorching heat. He pushes the cucumber in and out once, twice and you explode, crying and whimpering, mouth full of his cock.

Apparently Joel was waiting just for that.

He finally erupts into your throat with a loud groan and you’re swallowing his warm cum as your back arches, pussy clumps on the stiffness inside you and fireworks burst in your mind.

You drink him to the last drop, and his mouth doesn’t leave your pussy either, he’s rubbing your clit with the flat of his tongue until you push him away, being overstimulated.

You part from his softening cock and plop your back on the bed catching your breath. Joel slowly pulls the cucumber out of your soaked hole and falls next to you panting heavily.

“Thank you for letting me do this, baby,” he coos before giving you a gentle kiss. Then he takes the glistening condom off, throws it on the bed and hands you the cucumber. “Here’s your dinner back,” he chuckles and you giggle with him.

“No way, Joel. First of all, we’re ordering in tonight and second,” you press the cucumber to your chest, making heart eyes at it, “I’m not eating him.”

“Him?”

“Yep. He’s living with us now,” you say trying to contain your laughter, “I’m gonna call him Dave.”

“Little slut,” Joel growls, pins you to the bed and shuts you up with a kiss.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌸

Comments and reblogs will make me very happy and help to spread my work!💖

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fan fiction #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us

[paint-the-walls-white]

Mein Liebe

Pairing: König x PlusSized!Reader

Summary: After meeting an incredibly large man, at a McDonalds, every part of life changes thanks to him.

Warnings: BDE! StomachBulge! Doggy! Sideways! Oral(M2F)! CreamPies! Breeding! Lots of biting! SexualHarassment!

König was big. He was always described as mountainous, even towering over the most intimidating members of Task Force 141, Ghost included.

He was very reserved as a person, social anxiety getting the best of him most of the time. But, nonetheless, his team always did their best to push him out of his shell. But at this point they were getting desperate.

Which is why they sent him to McDonalds to get everyone Lunch. He was bitter about it, but he was pretty hungry, and it was only a short drive from the base. Besides, it would be a nice change of pace from the cantina's shit on a plate.

It was supposed to be easy, he even had their orders on a piece of paper. But then the drive through intercom was down, courtesy of TF141 tampering with radio signals in the area.

König had to go inside. It was still fine though, he could always use the kiosks right?

Of course not. A cruel twist of fate really. The local crackhead had caused a ruckus and had broken both of them, shattering the screen.

He'd have to order at the counter.

Heart racing, eyes darting, and breath unsteady, he approached the counter. It was quiet inside, not too busy but not entirely empty either.

But then his heart started pounding for another reason.

The prettiest sight he had ever seen. Bright eyes, shiny hair, soft, plump lips, long eye lashes, and a little weight he could hold onto.

"Hi, welcome to McDonalds, my name is Y/N, what can I get started for you?"

König swallowed sharply, your voice was music to his ears. A sweet melody he would never get sick of. A heavy blush crawled up his neck and face as his eyes dilated.

"U-uh, I need, uh.. Scheise.. Uh Big macs? And uh.. Chicken nuggets."

You nodded, refusing to break eye contact. This hulk of a man was checking all the boxes, even ones you didn't even know you had. Your eyes looked dark with how big your pupils were, attempting to flood your field of vision with this man.

"Ok, what size for those? And is that a Ten or Twenty Piece?"

König swallowed again, his throat impossibly hoarse. "Large. uh.. Twenty please"

"Perfect, and the drinks?" You eyed him through your lashes. You wanted to climb him like a tree for sure, but you also just wanted to lie on him like a mattress and soak in his scent. Gun powder, smoke, and sweet sweet Pine. It was heavenly.

"Just S-Sprites and a Coke.." It was taking so much out of him to talk to you, but he wanted to keep going. If he didn’t, surely the TF141 would laugh at him. Again.

"Alrighty, your total is going to be.. $53.28, Is that going to be for here or to-go?"

You smacked yourself mentally, of course it was to-go, There was literally no one else decked out in military gear there.

"To-go," He watched, almost amused as you flushed in obvious embarrassment.

"Right, of course yeah.." You looked at him again, very intimidated by his gaze, "What's your.. name?"

This broke the intense concentration he had just developed. His name. Why did you want to know his name? Did you want him too? No, there's no way. But then why? What was his name? His name.. oh yeah,

"König."

"Oh, ok.. Is that spelled K-o-n-i-g?"

He gave a curt nod and paid in cash, gingerly brushing against your small hand. The contact did not go unnoticed by you. You shivered a bit and counted out the money hurriedly, hands shaking and face red. You ripped the receipt from the machine and wrote something on it before speaking.

"I-I'll call you when it's ready! Here's your change," You placed the bills in his palm with the receipt and dropped the coins in after, reveling in the warmth of his hand for a second before pulling back and getting the drink cups for him.

"Here are your cups and carrier, I doubled it for you so they won’t fall out."

You were so considerate and sweet. He reveled in your presence, waiting patiently at a booth across from the counter, knee bouncing and hands fiddling with his gloves and Velcro.

After a few minutes of waiting and watching you intently, you called for him,

"König? Your order is ready," You stepped out from behind the counter and approached him. He quickly stood, taking one step to meet your three before offering him the bags.

"Would you like help taking it out? To the car I mean.." You bashfully gnawed on your lip and gazed up at him. He nodded, but truthfully he could have easily carried it all without your help, he just wanted more time with you before he had to leave.

You passed him the last bag and he turned to face you again, gaze intense and completely silent.

"Oh, I have something for you," You reached into your back pocket and pulled out what looked like a small controller with random buttons on it. "It's a fidget toy, I use it when I get anxious too, but you seem like you could use it a bit more.."

He swallowed hard, trying to pass the lump in his throat as he took in every detail of your face.

"Thank you.. Wunderschöne Augen (Gorgeous Eyes).." He muttered the compliment under his mask, eyes shining in awe as dusk hit your bright irises.

"What?" You didn't understand what he said, but the way his eyes were softening and the way his shoulders were relaxing clued you in that it was probably a compliment.

"U-uh.. Your eyes.. They're beautiful.." He averted his gaze. You blushed, averting your gaze as well, muttering a small thank you before you heard yelling from inside.

"Ugh.. Bitch.. Sorry, I have to go.. Duty calls.. haha.."

You waved goodbye and started walking away, "Oh and I left you a little present on your receipt!" Your brazen attempt at flirting caused you to panic internally the rest of your shift.

On the way home, it wasn't any better, you were itching to pick up your phone and see if he had texted you, but you refused on account of your parents dying in a car accident because of texting and driving.

So when you got home you waited, and waited.

But Konig was freaking out so hard. The second he saw you had left your phone number and a little "Call me at 11!" he panicked, speeding back to base where he sat with TF141 barely touching his food as he held the receipt with shaky hands.

Soap, who was sitting next to him, nudged him with his elbow, "What's wrong big fella? Not hungry? Whatchya got there?" he looks at the receipt, eyes widening and a grin spreading across his cheeks, "Oh boy! König here got a girls number!"

König snapped to look at him, eyes dizzy in complete shock, "Gott... was soll ich tun..? (God, what should I do?)"

Gaz spoke up, "Call her you big oaf! she's probably waitin' for ya!"

"But.. It is not 2300 hours.. That is when she said.. to.. to.."

To everyone's surprise Ghost spoke up, "Then eat. Call her at 2300."

Soap patted him on the back, "Lad, I know yer nervous, but listen to Ghostie over 'ere. Give er' a call."

He nodded silently, scarfing down his food before leaving for his room. He anxiously waited until 2300, each minute feeling like agony as he sat there, cell phone in hand, contact pulled up, hovering over the call button.

She sat on her bed, waiting for his call, but at about 10: 50 she decided to give up and rolled over to sleep, her phone next to head. She was so disappointed..

After what felt like forever, she groaned and checked her phone. 10:59. Then 11:00.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, an unknown caller. No way..

Hands shaking, König held the phone up to his ear,

'Hello? König is.. that you..?'

He sucked in a breath at your voice, "Ja, It's me.. How are you..?"

"Mm a bit tired.. but I don't mind staying up to talk to you, I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow.."

He huffed at the sound of your voice, it was angelic. "Ja? what if.. what if we.. go out?"

You gnawed at your lower lip, "I'd like that.. Where would we go?"

"You could.. You could come on base? I'll show you around Liebe.."

"Ok, when should I be there? Wait, what's the whole process of me coming onto base..?"

His chuckle rang out in your ears. He felt oddly confident with you, like there wasn't a worry in the world. He explained about the visitor passes and how this week was friends and family week so it should be very straight forward.

'Ok, I’ll be there at 8 am then? or wait.. 0800 hours? Did I say it right..?'

He chuckled again, "Ja Liebe.. Good job.. Get some rest,"

You told him goodnight and hung up the phone, squealing into your pillow. How could you sleep when you were going to see him?

The very next morning you woke up at around 5 am, you took extra time showering, making sure to use every single product you had, brushed your teeth 2 times, and washed your face 3 times before putting your hair in a hair curler and sitting to do your makeup.

Over an hour later of fucking up eyeliner, restarting twice and stabbing yourself in the eye with mascara, you finally pulled your hair from the curler, pulled on a frilly pink dress, and some chunky white heels with frilly white socks.

You also accessorized with little flowers wherever you could and headed out the door to Base, which was luckily a few minutes away.

Upon reaching the gate the guard eyed you up and down, "Who are you here for, pretty girl?"

"Um.. König?" His gaze made you uncomfortable as he barked out a laugh.

"What’s so funny, Private?"

His voice was obviously chilling but you couldn't help being excited to see him.

You hugged tight around his waist, your head resting just under his chest. He flushed, patting your head as he glared at the man in the booth, silently demanding all inclusive passes for everything.

"Liebe, come with me.. I have much to show you.."

He offered you his hand, bringing out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. You eagerly wrapped around his arm and nuzzled into his side, taking the flowers.

"Oh thank you König, they're beautiful..!"

"Anything for you Liebe.." You looked up to meet his intense gaze, blushing as you watched his eyes darken and soften. He was so freaking.. Ugh!

The very first thing he did was show off his quarters. His bed was massive of course, you assumed far larger than any other available bed. Squealing, you belly flopped onto the bed.

"Your bed is so big! and it smells just like you" You buried your face into the blankets, taking in every ounce of him as you could, until you felt weight on either side of your head.

"Ja? You like it?" You flipped onto your back to face him, quickly locking eyes with him. His gaze made you blush but you enjoyed his presence.

"Oh my god wait can you please do something for me? I know this is gonna sound weird.." You fiddled with the part of his mask that was draping over your chest, "Could you lay on top of me? just full on crush me,"

His expression immediately changed to bewilderment before chuckling, "I'll suffocate you Lamm (Lamb).. But alright.."

Konig eased down onto you, putting the full weight of his torso down on your small frame. You had bent and spread your knees so he would fit snugly on top of you and you let out weary breath,

"Oh my god this is perfect.. Just stay here for a sec.." Your breathing was labored and he could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"You sure Liebe? You sound like you cant breath,"

"No no, I'm good...this feels amazing.." The weight literally made you decompress as you settled into the bed, gently scratching his back with your newly manicured nails. He groaned softly into your chest, resting his face between them. You both laid there for what seemed like forever but was actually 15 minutes before he raised himself on his elbows.

"We should go now Lamm, there are many things to do today," You nodded, dazed, breathless, and completely flushed. The sight nearly made him pass out as you panted below him. He raised you to your feet and walked you down to the Cantina where you both got breakfast and he led you to the table with TF141 You were directly behind König as he approached the table. Soap greeted him first,

"Oi Lad! Did you end up callin’ the lass last night?"

"Ja, She's here today."

Gaz whistled, "Well where is she? don't tell me ya scared her off already."

König looked to his left and right frantically before you spoke up meekly, "Here.." You stepped out from behind König, his hulking figure incomprehensible to yours. You shifted uncomfortable under the gobsmacked gaze of TF141 before König helped you into your seat and sat beside you.

"Lad, you're gonna split 'er in half- Oi!" Ghost elbowed Soap, sharply glaring at him. "ahem.. I meant, what's yer name Lass?"

You told them, completely anxious. They were all so intimidating, and not the same way König was. König was hot and intimidating, these men were straight up scary.

"Don't be shy little lady! We ain't gonna bite! Well I mean the mountain here might but still!" Gaz's words brought little comfort but the idea of König biting you was a nice distraction.

"Lass sie in Ruhe! (Leave her alone) Christ you lot are making her anxious! Bastarde..." Konig placed a comforting hand on your thigh and you scooted closer to him to whisper in his ear, which he had to lean down for you to do.

He flushed and sat straight up, shoving food under his mask and choking on it slightly.

'I wouldn't mind if you bite..'

The boys all cackled, completely unaware of what you had said. The breakfast went well, but you eventually broke away from the group to spend the day with Konig. He pampered you endlessly, buying you anything you touched, doing everything you wanted to do just as excited as you were about it, but only because he was doing it with you.

While mini golfing, because why not, he stepped away to use the bathroom. You did a couple of practice shots while waiting for him until you felt a presence behind you.

"Hey pretty girl, who are you here for?"

"He's in the bathroom." You didn't even meet his gaze. It didn't matter, König was gonna be there any second anyway.

"Hey.. Look at me when I'm talking to you," He grabbed your shoulder, digging his fingers into the skin. It hurt. The atmosphere changed suddenly, a threatening aura quickly approaching. But it didn't matter.

Because you swiftly turned to face the man grabbing you and crunched the chunky heel of your shoe into his crotch. There was a sickening crutch, a pathetic squeal and the area went quiet with the collective wince of any man in the immediate area.

"Don't touch me," You nonchalantly returned to practicing your putt as Konig warily approached.

"Gott lamm.. he's never having kids.." You looked up at him for a second.

"I told him I was here with someone else and he grabbed me. Not my fault."

He chortled and patted your hair. You whined that he was gonna mess it up but you could see the smirk in his eyes.

"I'd rather ruin it another way.."

You challenged him, "I'd rather you ruin my makeup, but I suppose that could work too,"

He faltered, Clearly a bright red under the mask before he gently grabbed your hand. You met his gaze again and smiled softly, nodding before he dragged you away from the game,

"König-! I can't keep up-! Eek!" He stopped before throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, holding down your skirt as he sprinted to his room.

König slammed the door behind the two of you and threw you onto the bed. You squealed with laughter as you bounced, nervously sucking in a breath as he started gently taking off your socks and shoes, placing a kiss on the top of your foot and along your shin until he reached the skirt of your dress.

"Mein Gott... I want to worship every inch of you Mein Liebe.. You're so perfect.."

You stood and turned around so he could unzip your dress, a pure white lacy bra and thong with little pink bows underneath. He groaned under his breath before reaching for his mask. He hesitated for a second before ripping off the mask. His hair was thick but short, a very shiny black. a scar made its way from his chin across his lips and to the opposite side of his nose.

He was so fucking hot.

And he was also beet red, waiting for your reaction, but you just jumped, pressing a kiss to his lips and giggled. You cupped his face, eyes dizzy and lips upturned in a small smile

"You're so handsome, why hide it?" He groaned, sinking to your lips where he kissed you as deeply as he could.

"Mein Liebe.. Ich werde dich zu meiner Frau machen... (Im going to make you my wife..)"

You whined into his kiss, tugging at his shirt, "Off.. please.."

"Patience Lamm... let me pamper you.." He gingerly rubbed a finger against your sloppy folds and groaned "Scheiße.. You're so wet already.." You whined, tightly gripping his shoulders as you met his gaze.

He sunk a finger into you, watching intently as you threw your head back and moaned loudly. His finger was so big and so thick, it was almost as big as your two fingers alone; and then he added a second.

"Ah-! König.." you arched your back into him, feeling your gummy cunt squeeze around his fingers. He groaned into your neck.

"Das ist... Good Girl.. cum on my fingers mein Liebe..." He bit softly into your neck, causing you to seize up and cum on his fingers, squirting into his palm. You'd never been able to cum before but he had barely touched you and here you were, shaking under him with your slick pooling on his blankets.

"König.." you whimpered, watching his gaze darken as he lapped his fingers clean of your mess before he shifted onto the floor, slinging your legs over his shoulders, pushing your underwear to the side and lapping at you like a starved man.

It had all happened so fast and so slow at the same time that you didn't have time to protest or react. But god did it feel good..

He groaned against your clit as you gripped his hair and squeezed his head tightly with your thighs. they were so thick and soft, he had gotten so used to firmness muscles and callous skin. It was incredible.

All you could do was arch into him, on the verge of another orgasm so quickly until he pulled away. You wanted to protest but watched as he stripped off his shirt, moaning at the sight of his broad chest, thick shoulders, and soft abs.

König hurriedly unbuckled his pants, the sound of it alone causing your heart to pound faster, then watched as his dick sprang from the confines of his pants, painfully hard. And scarily big.

"Oh my god.." It was almost a horrified whisper if you weren't so mesmerized by the sight of the throbbing vein along the base and the angry red of his tip.

You finally unclipped your bra and threw it to the side as he ripped off your underwear, angry red lines marking your skin. He trailed kisses up your soft, fatty stomach. He loved it so much, how soft and doughy you were underneath him, sucking every inch of skin he could into his mouth as you moaned and writhed underneath him

"Pleasee.. No more teasing..."

"Mein Liebe.. I must mark every inch of your skin.. how else will others know who you belong too?"

You hid your face with your arm in embarrassment and whined as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one,

"Don't say it like that.."

He groaned as he rubbed the head of his cock along her wet slit, sinking in the head and moaning.

"Scheiße.. You're so hot Lamm... and so wet..Scheiße"

"K-König-! It's..too big-!" You whined, clawing at his back as he slowly sunk into you, each delicious inch stretching you impossibly wide.

König moaned as he sunk to the hilt, reveling in your tight, gummy cunt before he slowly pulled out and thrusted back in.

"Mein Gott Lamm.. So fucking tight...Scheiße!"

You moaned as he repeatedly sunk into you, picking up the pace until he groaned loudly, roughly grabbed your thigh and slung it over his shoulder, pounding at your hole at a brutal pace, likely bruising your cervix.

It felt so good and so overwhelming as a white heat bubbled in your core at each pass he made against your sensitive walls. He growled, biting into your neck and shoulder, lathering the harsh marks with his tongue as you took his cock so greedily.

"Das a good girl.. Look at you, you keep sucking me back in.. Gott.. Cum for me Lamm.."

She whimpered, just on the precipice of the most intense orgasm of her life, clawing at his back for purchase, begging for relief.

Tears flooded from her eyes as they rolled into her head as she came on his cock, squeezing around him tightly and moaning his name loudly, "König-!"

her vision was flooded with white, her orgasm prolonged as he continued to pound into her until he spilled his seed deep into her cunt. He groaned softly as he pulled out, listening to the hurried footsteps just outside the door. Whoever was listening, definitely wasn't anymore.

König chuckled against your cheek, "They heard you mein Liebe.. heard you taking my cock and my seed like such a Braves Mädchen..(Good girl)"

You flushed a bright red and buried your face into his shoulder, legs trembling around him, "König..! that's so embarrassing.."

"What my little Lamm? Want to be quiet as I fuck you? Why don't you bury your face in the pillows then hmm?"

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you to your knees as he tutted at you,

"Look at this waste..." He swiped the oozing cream pie up with his fingers and stuffed it back in. You whimpered as his calloused fingers rubbed your sensitive folds as he fingered his cum back into you.

"Das a good little slag.. taking my cum.." He grinned down at you as he slapped his cock on your clit, relishing in the yelps and whimpers you tried to hide.

"Beg for it Mein Liebe.. Beg for my cock.." He pressed soft kisses into your shoulder then bit your ear.

You muffled an embarrassed please into the pillow until he pulled you up by your hair, eliciting an insanely erotic moan as he tugged at your sensitive scalp, "Please-! Please König.. I need it-!"

"Braves Mädchen..." He stuffed his cock back into your gummy cunt, groaning as he raised up on his haunches. He pulled out until just his head was left, then he thrusted in as he pulled your hips to meet his.

He hit impossibly deep and impossible hard against your cervix. It would have hurt had the pressure not been so good. You moaned into the pillow, drool soaked into the fabric, and tears ran down your cheeks. Your makeup and hair was thoroughly ruined, but you didn't care; It was being ruined in the best way imaginable.

You came on his cock again, squirting onto his slick skin, dripping down onto the covers. He groaned at the sight.

"Look at you.. you're such a mess for me.. So slick and tight.. So perfect.. Mein Braves Mädchen... Scheiße.. I'm gonna cum.. Take it.."

You moaned loudly into the pillow, relishing in the feeling of his seed pooling into your ruined pussy, completely drunk on his cock. Eventually, all of the sensations were too much and you passed out.

König chuckled as he slipped from you, "Mein goodness Lamm.. You've made quite the mess... Lamm? Mein Liebe? uh oh,"

He turned you on your back and pressed his ear to your chest listening to your relaxing heartbeat and shallow breaths. He noted the small smile on your face as you slept peacefully before pulling you into his arms and grabbing a different blanket to sleep in.

It had just hit dusk when he heard a knock at his door. König stood, fitting his dick back into his pants and pulling on his mask before covering you with the blanket, kissing your head and opening the door.

"What?" He was obviously irritated, but it simmered when he realized it was Soap.

Soap glanced past König and smirked, "Good god is she dead?"

König rolled his eyes and blushed, "No, just passed out, What do you want Soap?"

"LT has a mission for us. We're gonna be deployed next week, I figured you'd want to tell your lass before then."

König's eyes saddened as he looked back. He had only gotten to spend a day with you and he literally didn't want to spend a second away from you. Now he had to leave?

He offered Soap a curt nod before slamming the door in his face and striding back over to you. you had turned to face the door, eyes slightly open and a tired frown on your face.

"You're being deployed?"

"Ja.. I'm so sorry Mein Liebe.. " he brushed the hair from your face and kissed away the tears of streaky mascara.

"I promise I'll come back safe.. Keine Sorge (Do not worry)"

As you moved to sit up you winced at the ache in your legs and arms. He scooped you into his arms as you wrapped around him like a koala.

"Please tell me you're not leaving to get away from me.." The worried cries that escaped your anxious mind stabbed him in the heart. It hurt so much.

"Oh Mein Liebe.. I would never.. This is killing me.. Nein.. Id never.."

You pulled away, peeling up the mask over his nose and kissed him,

"I'll write to you every day you're gone.."

"I will read them every day.. And any day I cannot write.. I will write two the next day.. So on and so forth.."

You whimpered in his arms. You weren't sure why it hurt so much, maybe he was your soulmate, because that burning pain in your heart was mirrored in his and it fucking sucked.

The few days leading up to the deployment he spent every available second talking to or pampering you. It could be gifts of food, flowers, or stuffed animals. But it was often multiple orgasms, shaky legs, and painful looking hickeys littered across your neck, shoulders, breasts, thighs and ass.

He bit into your shoulder, teeth marks angry and red. You whined as he licked away the stinging pain as he thrusted into you again and again.

"At this rate.. Mnn.. These wont fa-Aye-!de... until you're backk-!"

"That's the point mein Liebe... Scheiße.. You're so tight.."

You watched in the bathroom mirror as he tightly held your hips to his as he pounded against you brutally trying to shape you so you never forget the feeling of his cock.

The week went so fast yet so slow all at the same time. When you parted one last time you cried into his arms. You didn't want him to go, not when you were falling in love with him.

Every day seemed bleak. You wrote to him every day about all the thoughts that had crossed your mind. You had sent him various and frequent care packages. It was almost scary how you knew exactly what he needed.

He had a hard time falling asleep? You sent him a weighted dinosaur covered in your perfume and a bottle of the same kind in case the smell faded. You also sent him drowsy tea and so many baked treats.

His feet and knees were killing him? you sent him memory foam gel inserts, somehow in his exact size and Icy Hot to help with the pain- and of course more treats.

You baked so much in your spare time because of how lonely you were. It hurt to be without him, and you feared every day that he was hurt or dead.

Months of letters back and forth. Your friends kept urging you to just sleep with someone, so you cut them off to find better friends. They didn't know him, they didn't get to call him a weirdo.

Oftentimes at work you would get berated, and since you were more stressed out, you often snapped back. This sometimes worked better than that good old fashioned customer service attitude.

"You don't get to yell at me because you forgot to order a shake. I put your food on the warmer so it won't get cold, it'll be ready in a minute and a half. Have some patience."

Your face was stern but not mean. This often got you more tips. And phone numbers?

Why the hell did creepy old men think it was ok to hit on a girl half their age? And why did they find you yelling at them arousing?!

Every day at work got harder until finally, FINALLY, you were accepted into a paid internship through your university and you made far more in a field you were studying to be in. It was honestly your dream job but there was one big problem.

Joshua.

He was a good worker, always got work in on time, but oh my god was he a pervert. He had already slept with half the women in the office, but for some reason he really wanted to get with you. And the worst part was he was your boss.

"I'm not interested sir, please keep this professional."

"Oh come on sweetheart, what's wrong with a little messing around?"

"Well for one-" He always interrupted you, it really pissed you off.

"I'll give you a 50% raise if you sleep with me,"

"You literally can't, and-"

"I'll work my magic sweetheart!"

"Stop Calling me that! I am not sleeping with you Josh! Fuck Off!"

You had stormed back to your cubicle and not much later had gotten an email from HR about disorderly conduct. and who sent in the complaint?

It wasn't Josh, It was fucking Debbie.

She may have been worse than Josh, because she slept her way up the ranks and was his current play toy. The reason she complained?

Fraternizing.

What. The. Fuck.

You had been there for Six months and never once spoke out against anyone, and the one time you did because you were still being sexually harassed, someone tattles on you for yelling? Hell No.

That day when you got home, you cried. And you cried hard. You loved your job so much, but the work environment was so toxic, you didn't know what to do and you missed König so much it hurt and-

Your phone started ringing. König was calling.

"H-Hello?" You sniffed, raising the alarms.

"Mein Liebe? What is wrong my sweet? Who made you cry?"

"I-It's nothing I'll tell you later, please, just tell me you're coming home soon.. I miss you so much.."

He huffed, "Soon my love. The mission was successful. That human trafficking ring was completely demolished. I'll be home in a month."

"Oh my gosh-! a month?! That's so soon! What date exactly, I'm writing it down on my calendar."

König chuckled as he heard your feet run across the house. He told you the date and excitedly wrote it down.

"Now Mein Liebe, tell me. Who. Made. You. Cry? "

The crushing weight of anxiety and stress pressed down so hard you just sobbed and sobbed. You told him about the harassment, how you loved your job but wanted to leave because of some jerk, how everyone was great except for like two people and then you told him who it was.

"And if Josh could just fucking leave me alone I wouldn't have a meeting with HR because Debbie doesn't like the idea of her douche bag getting with someone else!"

"What did you say his last name was again?"

"uh Davidson.. why?"

He chuckled again, "No reason my love.. I'm running out of time on this call, Ich Liebe dich."

"I love you too König, I’ll write to you tomorrow ok?"

"Do not fret Liebling, It will all be taken care of."

You had no idea what he meant, but you smiled and hung up the phone. You had always felt so much better after talking to him or reading his letters.

Which is why you wanted to do something extra special for him, especially since you had been dating for nearly two years at this point.

So that weekend you scheduled with a photographer friend of yours a sexy photo shoot where you posed in all different kinds of underwear and suggestive poses. You both giggled as you wrapped up the pictures in a little scrap book and added it into his next care package, with a little note to open it when he was alone.

Apparently, the note had slipped from its place on the cover and when he opened the box, normally to share the snacks you send with TF141, he opened the book with a crowd gathered over his shoulder before quickly slamming it shut.

He stammered, he couldn't even get a word out as even Ghost patted him on the shoulder, hooting and hollering with laughter at his embarrassment.

"Good on ya Lad! That Lass really loves ya!" Soap patted him on the back extra hard, causing the book to fall from his hands and flip to a random page where you were clearly seen clad in black lacy lingerie and one of his spare masks on.

He scrambled to pick it up ready to explode as the laughter got even louder, the group hunched over, relishing in his misery. In his heart he knew it was all good fun and he'd be able to laugh about it later but right now he wanted to melt into a puddle and die.

When he was alone, he made good use of the pictures, fisting his cock as if it were your tight pussy wrapped around him. There were a plethora of pictures to choose from, but you with his mask on just did it for him; especially with that look in your eye, like you were ready to be bred.

He came in his palm, quick to wipe it away with a tissue as he continued to admire your shy yet confident face, pupils blown wide, cheeks a healthy glowing red and your skin flushed pink. He noticed that your skin was healed from his marks, which he would have to change as soon as he got home tomorrow.

Konig was coming home early with a surprise- and to handle your problem.

The next day had definitely started hellish. You spilled your coffee on your blouse so you had to go into work with just the tank top and suit jacket, which of course was perfect for prying eyes, no matter how hard you hid your cleavage.

The meeting with HR went ok, especially since you brought up the sexual harassment, which led to an investigation on Josh, but you were sure it was going to lead no where (as usual).

And then you went to lunch. Which for some reason, Josh saw as an invitation to sit down with you. He had talked so much that you had drowned out everything, completely unaware of your surroundings. Except for when he grabbed your hand. You yanked it away, ready to yell at him but he stopped everything.

He wasn't even looking at you. He was looking behind you, completely terrified. And then you felt that familiar hand on your shoulder.

"Is this the guy you told me about Mein Liebe?"

You whipped around and stood to hug him, crying happy tears, even as his tactical vest dug uncomfortably in your skin.

He hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he glared down at the small man. He chuckled, shifting to a lighter tone.

"I've missed you too, Liebling. Give me one second.."

He stood up fully, turning his attention to Josh. He grit his teeth.

"Ah, you must be the man Mein Liebe was talking about, haha! Boy did she talk about you. Ahh.. Yeah if you ever make a comment about my wife or to my wife again, I will kill you." Josh chuckled nervously and König cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, that sounded like a joke, I will actually, Fucking Kill you."

The cafeteria was silent and you smirked at Josh pissing his pants.

"Now, my Liebe, where were we? Ah yes."

You watched, tears welling in your eyes as he knelt before you and pulled a small box from his pocket. You laughed and cried and covered your mouth and cried, nodding your head.

"I haven't even asked yet Liebling.. ahem.." his gaze flicked around the room at the cameras but he ignored them, right now he needed to be with you.

"Mein Liebe.. being away from you.. for.. so fucking long.. has been insufferable... Ich liebe dich so much.. I need you to be my wife.. so badly.. so desperately.. I need your comfort, and your touch and your love more than I need oxygen. Please, marry me?"

You jumped and wrapped around him so tightly, crying and nodding yes. It would have been pathetic if it wasn't so sweet.

"There is not a doubt in my mind that I want to be married to you."

He gently took your hand, slipping the ring on your finger and kissed your hand. Afterwards he bought you flowers, your favorite of course, and took you to lunch for the remainder of your break, and then he remained guarding your cubicle. Which was good as Josh approached several times but turned away the second König gave him a glare.

This repeated for the remainder of your work day until he drove you home where he continued to service you, right on the wall by the front door.

Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, sitting on his shoulders as he lapped at your clit like a starved man, not even bothering to take off the mask all the way, but pushing it above his nose.

His fingers pumped into you as you gripped at the top of his head, head thrown back as you rutted against his face, desperate for a release.

You quickly squirted in his mouth, but he kept going until you were sobbing that it was too much, which was only after another two orgasms.

"I can't help it mein Liebe.. You look so fucking Wunderschön with my ring.. Gott I'm lucky.."

He threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour and brought you to the bedroom. His cock was painfully hard, but he didn't care. He needed to replace all of the healed marks on your skin.

König ripped off your tank top and bra, quickly discarding the mask entirely as he bit into your shoulder, making his way up your neck with rough sucks and even rougher bites until he had made his way across your collarbone.

All you could do was moan at the pain of his teeth and the pleasure of his tongue as he moved his attention to your breasts, trailing his treatment back in between your legs where he ripped off the remainder of your clothes.

He lapped up your arousal once before making his way over you and pulling his cock out of his pants. The head was drooling with cum as he continued to kiss your body, worshiping every freckle, mole, and stretch mark until he met your lips and sunk all the way to the hilt.

He groaned at the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing him tightly.

"This is so much better than my hand Liebling... Scheiße.... So beautiful wrapped around me like this.. Gott.."

"Königg.. That's embarrassing..." you whined as he pulled out and sunk back in, head thrown back as tears flooded from your eyes.

His pace was ruthless as he rutted into you desperately, fucking his cum into you every time he finished. He refused to let up, his pent up arousal was too much, even as he had you on your side, leg thrown over his shoulder, squeezing your ass and tracing the bulge in your stomach every time he filled you with his meaty cock.

Fat tears kept rolling down your cheeks as you felt that impossibly good pressure on your cervix each time he kissed it with the head of his dick, knowing it would be bruised for at least two weeks.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, drool slipping onto the pillow as you came on his cock again, the bed sheets long since ruined. He groaned as he spurted thick ropes of hot cum into you again, pressed as deep into you as he could before collapsing into your chest, kissing the valley between them sweetly.

"You're going to be so Wunderschön pregnant with my babe mein liebe.. Gott.. So Wunderschön.."

"I love you König.." you weaved your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he sighed contently, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Ich Liebe Dich, mein Lamm.."

Two weeks later, while he was at work you had taken a pregnancy test. Pregnant.

No one was shocked, to be honest. But everyone was definitely happy.

#cod konig #smut #konig x reader #konig smut #bde #big tiddy committee #strangers to lovers

[catmiemy]

Not All Change Is Bad (Lia Wälti x Reader)

Summary: Now that you know Lia has feelings for you, you have to figure out where to go from there.

The next morning you woke up exhausted, only having managed to fall asleep for a few minutes at a time. You were weirdly relieved when you checked your phone and it was finally an acceptable time to get up.

A/N: Thanks to the long weekend I actually finished this second part already. You can find the first part here.

This got a bit longer than I thought and I didn't even include most of the fluff at the end that I already planned out. So potentially there could be a third part focused more on happiness with a bit of angst. Let me know if you'd liked to read that. :)

Nadine was still sleeping soundly, so you didn’t have to deal with her seeing the mess you were. You headed straight to the bathroom, annoyed with yourself when you saw how horrible you looked in the mirror. There were dark bags underneath your red eyes, spots all over your cheeks from rubbing away all the tears and your hair resembled a bird’s nest from all the tossing and turning you had done.

You quickly went to work to make yourself more presentable. The last thing you wanted was for Lia to feel guilty when she saw you. You would be damned if you made this any harder for her than it had to be, and if the only thing you could do was pretend you were okay you would do that.

In your noble quest you completely forgot to take into consideration that to Lia’s eyes it would seem like this whole situation hadn’t affected you at all. She almost burst into tears when she saw how put together you looked, the only thing saving her from it, was Ana pointing out all the signs that you were actually not fine that were right underneath the surface of your carefully crafted façade.

The whole camp felt like torture to you and more than once you wished it was finally over. But every time you did you remembered that at Arsenal you would still see Lia, who could barely look into your direction anymore and darted away whenever you were anywhere close to her, almost every day. And back home Jessica was waiting for you.

Your girlfriend and you still hadn’t talked or even texted, which wasn’t too uncommon on Jessica’s part after an argument. Her go to reaction was to completely ignore you, while you usually did everything to get your girlfriend to forgive you, sending long, heartfelt texts, buying her small gifts, apologizing over and over again. You had never questioned if this was okay or healthy, and you didn’t really question it now, you just didn’t have the energy to do it, so you didn’t.

Every once in a while you remembered how you had completely ignored her call after you had asked to talk that night and were hit by a pang of guilt. You should reach out to your girlfriend. And you also should talk to Lia, make things easier for her. You should be fine with all of this, you should communicate more and better, you shouldn’t let this distract you from football, you shouldn’t feel like hiding away for the rest of your life.

As the days passed you became increasingly frustrated with yourself and your inability to do any of the things you should do. The only thing you managed to do halfway decently was keep up appearances well enough. Sure, many of your teammates checked in with you, but they accepted your forced smile and your fake cheerfulness as you assured them that you were totally fine.

Ana was a different story. She tried to push a bit harder, but every time she did, you sent her right back to Lia. “Please just make sure she’s alright, yeah? I’m totally fine, don’t worry about me.”

This did nothing to stop your friend from worrying, nonetheless she always listened to your request, well aware that the only person you really felt comfortable opening up to was Lia. Therefore Ana could only hope that as time passed the two of you managed to find your way back to each other again, maybe even as more than best friends. She still held out hope that you actually returned Lia’s feelings and just needed a little longer to figure that out.

As much as you had often wished camp was over when it actually was and you were boarding the plane to take you back to London, you desperately wanted to stay. Going back home meant you could no longer ignore the whole situation with Jessica and how horrible you’d been acting. It took every ounce of your willpower to force your feet to take you into the plane.

Another thing you dreaded was spending the flight next to Lia, although a small part of you also clung to some hope that the forced proximity would do you good, give you a chance to talk. However as you found your seat all that hope was ripped from you, in the seat that should have been Lia’s sat Noelle, smiling at you sympathetically.

All you could do to avoid breaking down right then and there was to sink down in your seat and blast music into your ears. Thankfully Noelle got the hint and left you alone.

Throughout the flight you did your best to keep your mind occupied with doing at least three things simultaneously. Nevertheless, the closer you got to landing the more your anxiety spiked. Poor Noelle was probably getting annoyed by your constant leg bouncing and fidgeting. Not that the gentle woman would ever say anything.

At the airport when you were slowly heading to the exit to catch a cab back to your apartment you were suddenly stopped by Lia’s voice, “Y/N, wait!”

With a racing heart you stopped in your tracks, turning to face your best friend. Although were you even allowed to call her that anymore?

Lia approached you with a worried face, picking at her cuticles, a clear indication to you that she was nervous. This hurt; you never wanted to get to a place where she was nervous to talk to you.

“I know things are weird between us right now and I really want to move past it, I just don’t know how yet. But…I still wanted to check in. Are you okay to go home? I know you left things with Jessica in a weird place and you looked almost scared on the plane and no matter where we stand I’m still always here for you,” Lia rushed out.

Your heart cracked and all the tears you had held back on this day so far gathered in your eyes, blurring your vision. How very Lia of her to still worry about you and ignore her own emotions and insecurities to make sure you were okay when you were the reason she was so miserable. 

You shook your head and blinked harshly to chase away the tears, then you plastered a what you hoped to be reassuring smile on your face.

“That’s very sweet of you, but please don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine, and after all these years I know how to deal with Jessica.”

Pain flashed in Lia’s eyes and you kicked yourself for bringing up how long you had been with your girlfriend. Way to hurt her more!

She smiled back at you and you could only hope that your smile had been more convincing than hers. “Okay, but never forget that I’m still always here for you.”

And with a goodbye Lia walked away from you, leaving you with an aching heart. Now that you had spoken with her again, it was even more painful to go back to this weird place of not talking. You wanted to run after her, share a ride like you normally did, and maybe hide out at her apartment for the rest of your life so you never had to deal with Jessica.

In front of the door to the apartment Jessica and you shared you took a moment to hype yourself up. You could do this, you had done this about a million times. Maybe it had never been this bad, but you would just have to grovel a little more.

You entered the apartment, calling out to your girlfriend. Just as you expected you didn’t get a response. Maybe she wasn’t home! Even if that would only postpone the argument for a little while, you still wanted it to be true.

Sadly you were out of luck. You quickly found Jessica sitting on the couch, staring at her phone and completely ignoring your presence.

“Hi,” you greeted her awkwardly, your girlfriend still not showing any signs of having noticed you. “Look I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone and haven’t reached out since. This camp has been absolutely crazy.”

It was a weak explanation, and definitely not enough to get Jessica to acknowledge you again. To even have any hope of getting there you would need to apologize and beg. However when you were searching for the right words, you realized that you didn’t want to do it this time. You were tired of these same old patterns that always left you feeling like you weren’t good enough.

You weren’t someone that got mad often, but now you could feel all the suppressed feelings inside of you rapidly turning into anger.

“Can you just cut this crap out and talk to me like an equal human being?” You snapped at Jessica.

At least you succeeded in getting a reaction. She dropped her phone, turning to you, the surprise on her face quickly morphing into anger just as intense as your own.

“Excuse me?! Who has been ignoring me for the last ten days after not picking up the phone when it was you who suggested we talk that night? I think I have every right to be angry,” Jessica yelled back at you.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t be angry, but acting as if I’m air is just plain childish! I said I was sorry and I also said that things have been crazy, but apparently you don’t care about that.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Okay then, what crazy thing happened that stopped you from contacting me at all? Did the monster under the bed steal your phone? Or did aliens project a force field around your camp, stopping all electronic devices from working?”

Her mocking only made you angrier, so without thinking about it if it was wise to reveal this to Jessica, you told her about learning of Lia’s feelings for you.

After that all hell broke loose, everything the two of you had kept inside for way too long spilling out in hurtful words, ending in a scream match that had neither of you even hearing what the other was saying anymore.

In the end it was you who said the fateful words, “I think it’s high time that we break up! Well it was probably high time years ago and we were just too stuck to notice.

“No, I don’t accept that! You don’t break up with me, I’m breaking up with you,” Jessica retorted.

By now most of the anger had drained from your body, you just shrugged your shoulders. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

Once you were out of the apartment you just started walking; the entire palette of negative emotions fighting for the lead inside of you. Before too long you found yourself standing in front of Lia’s little house. Just the sight of the familiar building that had been your refuge so often in the past was enough to break down the emotional barriers you had carefully constructed over the last couple of weeks, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

Lia had said you could still come over if something happened. So despite feeling more than a little unsure about it, you walked up to the front door and knocked. You needed her right now and if she would send you away you didn’t know if you could deal with it.

Of course there was no reason to worry, Lia didn’t miss a bit, ushering you into her apartment and holding you tightly while you cried your eyes out. You weren’t coherent enough to explain what had happened, but from the bits and pieces you managed to get out, she got the gist of it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind was some immense guilt for making Lia take care of you after everything, however it was drowned out by how safe you felt in your best friend’s arms. You wanted to stay there for the rest of your life, blocking out the rest of the world.

After your crying session you were hit by a wave of extreme tiredness, your eyes fluttering shut every so often. Lia gently massaged the back of your scalp, knowing you were prone to tenseness there, and it was making you even sleepier.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” She offered.

.

You should refuse, you should pull yourself together and leave Lia be, maybe call Leah to come over and check up on her after you had once again dumped your emotions all over her. You should be a better person and do that, instead you mumbled, “Yeah, I’d like that very much.”

The two of you got ready for bed. Lia insisted on it, you would have happily stayed on the couch in your regular clothes without brushing your teeth if it meant you didn’t have to move. There wasn’t any need for using a spare toothbrush or borrowing some clothes from Lia, you had left this kind of stuff here ages ago. It was just easier this way with all the impromptu sleepovers you had.

The two of you lay down on your respective sides of the bed, facing each other like you usually did to exchange some whispered words before falling asleep. You were already half asleep, not alert enough to stop yourself from mumbling, “I really really missed you, Schätzi. So stupid of me not to realize I also have feelings for you.”

You drifted off to sleep immediately afterwards, completely missing the way Lia went rigid as she heard your words, an onslaught of different emotions hitting her. The hardest one to deal with was the renewed hope she had mostly buried long ago. For years she had dreamt of you telling her that you felt the same way, she had played out hundreds of different scenarios of how it might happen. And Lia thought it would make her the happiest person on the planet.

However now that you had said the words, she was just scared. Scared that you didn’t really mean it, scared that you were merely confused by the emotional rollercoaster you were going through, scared that you were only clinging to her because Lia was familiar and comforting.

When you woke up the next morning the bed next to you was empty. For one blissful nanosecond you thought this was just a normal sleepover until all the memories hit you with full force. Shame and guilt began eating at you for putting Lia in this position, not only had you shown up here and made her comfort you after your breakup, you had also blurted out that you too have feelings for her at the most inappropriate time possible.

Not that it wasn’t true. The realization had been simmering underneath the surface for a while, not something that you were ready to acknowledge yet, but now that you had, there was no doubt left in your mind. So that wasn’t the problem, the problem was that it absolutely been the wrong moment to say it.

With a rapidly beating heart you finally got out of bed, determined to find Lia and apologize. You found her in the kitchen, staring into her cup of coffee. She looked dead tired, almost slumping onto the table. This only made you feel even guiltier. No doubt had your careless words cost your best friend some sleep.

Despite everything Lia still offered you a weak smile and got up to get you a cup of coffee. You tried to protest, but she simply waved away your words. Lia never trusted you to make your own coffee; she knew you had a tendency to make it too strong which then in turn made you a little hyper. 

“I’m sorry,” you said at the same time as your best friend stated, “There are some things I need to say.”

You nodded, gesturing at Lia to continue talking; she deserved to go first and get everything she wanted off her chest.

The brunette took a deep breath and when she began talking it sounded rehearsed, making you wonder how early she had gotten up to prepare and practice this whole speech. “I thought about all this for a long time and as much as I want to be the one to support you through this breakup, I don’t think I can.”

“What you said yesterday before falling asleep…It was everything I’ve wanted to hear for the longest time, but I think it’s important that you take your time to figure things out and make sure that you actually mean it.”

You opened your mouth to assure Lia that you did, how could you not? But one pleading look from her was enough to shut you up. She wasn’t ready to hear it; nothing you could say would make Lia fully believe it.

“So let’s just take some time, yeah? This way you can work through your breakup and everything else,” the brunette concluded.

Once again you nodded, even if it wasn’t what you wanted at all. You totally understood Lia’s request for some time apart and you would give her as much as she needed. After all she had apparently been waiting for you for years, so this was the least you could do.

“I don’t want to kick you out, but I really believe this is what’s best for us in the long run. But I can help you call one of our teammates so you can stay with them if you don’t want to go home?” Lia offered.

She was clearly conflicted about this course of action, still worrying about you. Therefore you quickly shook your head, reassuring the midfielder that you were fine and already had a plan. “Please don’t worry about me,” you told Lia more than once.

However the fact that you got up after saying this and walked towards the front door still in your pajamas definitely didn’t help your case.

“You know you can get dressed and even take a shower first,” Lia said, trying to keep her voice light and joking, when in reality your confusion scared her. Would you really be okay?

After taking a swift shower you felt a little more like yourself and managed to convince Lia that you wouldn’t walk right into a disaster if she let you out of her sight.

Saying goodbye was awkward, both of you looking at each other, unsure what to do. You longed to hug your best friend, but you didn’t think that would be welcome right now, so you merely waved at Lia lamely and told her you would see her at training.

During your shower you had come up with a plan; you waited until you were sure Jessica would have left for work, then you went to the apartment and packed a bg. All of your teammates would have happily let you stay with them, but you didn’t feel comfortable going to any of them, so instead you headed to a nearby hotel.

The moment you closed the door of your hotel room behind you, you sank to the floor, breaking down completely. You had thought you had cried yourself all out last night, but apparently there was an inexhaustible fountain of fresh tears somewhere inside of you.

That’s how you spent the rest your day, crying in various places. At some point you moved from the door to the bed, staying there until you had to go to the bathroom, crying on the floor leaning against the bathtub for a good while.

It was a small mercy that you feel asleep pretty early, exhausted from all the crying and from beating yourself up mentally. You were so angry at yourself for how you had treated both Lia and Jessica, you should have been better!

The next morning you felt like you had a hangover, your head pounding. However at least you were in control of your waterworks again, so you were hopeful you wouldn’t start crying during training. After another shower and a quick breakfast you felt a little better, confident in your ability to pretend to be a normal human being for as long as you needed.

And that’s what you did, not only that day but also the following ones. You acted throughout the day like you were fine, when someone asked you how you were, you stated time and time again that you were fine, no matter how much anyone could see that you weren’t.

The biggest challenge to your composure were the sad looks Lia kept sending your way when she thought you didn’t notice. It hurt you on a visceral level that you were the reason she was so miserable. In reality that wasn’t why Lia continued to look at you like this, it wasn’t because you had made her unhappy, but because she hated to see you take so little care of yourself and quietly falling apart in front of her eyes.

Every day as soon as you could you would go home, declining every invite to hangout from your teammates, because as soon as you stumbled into your hotel room, the tears returned, and all you could do for the rest of the day, was lay in bed, cry and berate yourself.

How had you been so stupid and not noticed Lia’s feeling for you? Why were you so weak and pathetic and ran right to her side after your breakup when you knew this would only make it more difficult for her? Furthermore you also felt horrible for how you had left things with Jessica. Sure, your relationship hadn’t been good for a while, but she deserved more from you!

About a week later you were once again laying in your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling, hating on yourself when your phone rang. You planned to ignore it, like you had been doing for the most part lately, but it kept on ringing again and again. With a deep sigh you picked up without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Y/N where the hell are you?!” Ana almost shouted.

Confused you started at the phone. “What?”

“Where are you?” Ana repeated a little slower, “I know you aren’t at home because the lovely Jessica told me as much and after doing some inquires I also know you aren’t with any of your teammates, so where are you?”

All of this could only mean one thing, Ana was in London and you really weren’t prepared to give up your plan of wallowing in misery to face her.

“I’m at a hotel. Happy? Now go and see Lia, I think she could use a friend,“ you replied, praying that this was enough to satisfy Ana.

You should have known that it wasn’t and you also should have known that your friend would figure out the only way to get you to tell her your location.

“You better tell me right now where you are or I’m calling Lia and tell her that you’re hiding out all alone in a hotel,” Ana threatened.

“Ugh fine,” you huffed angrily, letting her know what hotel you were staying at and your room number. Then you hung up the phone without as much as saying goodbye. If Ana was going to be like this, you sure as hell weren’t going to be polite.

You used the time you had until Ana’s arrival to make yourself look a little more presentable. It only worked semi-decently and the traces of your most recent breakdown were still very much visible on your face when you heard the dreaded knock.

“Oh Spatz,” Ana sighed when she laid eyes on you, guiding you carefully over to the bed and basically pulling you into her lap.

To your great annoyance the tears took this as an invitation to start falling again right away, and it took a good while for them to stop.

“Y/N what are you doing?” Ana asked you gently once you had calmed down.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m doing my best to give Lia the time she needs,” you explained.

Ana tilted her head to the side, studying you intently. “Time for what exactly?”

“To get over my stupid behavior, to figure out if she still wants to be with someone as horrible as me, to heal all the parts of her heart that I’ve hurt. Take your pick,” you replied, the anger for yourself making your voice harsh, almost hateful.

“Oh Spatz,” Ana said once again, reaching over to tuck a strand of her behind your ear. “You’re being way too hard on yourself, just because you didn’t handle everything perfectly and made some mistakes along the way doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person”

“And I can tell you that that’s not what Lia is thinking at all. She didn’t propose this time apart because she needs to figure things out. She knows exactly what she wants, she has known for years. You on the other hand just got out of very long term relationship. Lia wants you to take enough time to deal with that and process your feelings before you jump into something new. She’s waiting for you to be ready and at this rate you’re never going to be. You can’t just ignore everything, Y/N!”

It took a lot more reassuring on Ana’s part until you could even begin to believe her. Thankfully your friend was very patient and kept telling you the same things over and over again until a small seed of hope was planted inside of you.

She didn’t leave it at that though, Ana also helped you make a list of things you could do over the next few weeks to help you process everything. Journaling was on the top of the list, as ws eating regular meals and not spending too much time in bed. Furthermore you vowed to contact Jessica and figure out how to proceed with your shared apartment, and on Ana’s insistence you promised to talk to your teammates more and spend time with them instead of holing up by yourself all the time.

You actually followed this list meticulously, and made sure to give Ana regular updates. Especially once you got the sneaking suspicion that she in turn informed Lia how you were doing because the midfielder looked more and more relaxed every day. The first time she smiled at you again your heart skipped a beat and you felt like a lovesick teenager. Then slowly Lia stopped keeping her distance, you still didn’t talk just the two of you but being part of the same group conversation became a regular occurrence.

After about three weeks you gathered all your courage and decided to ask Lia if she wanted to have coffee. It was a weird feeling that something that used to be the most mundane thing ever made you want to jump out of your skin. Doubts were flying around your mind as you walked towards Lia. The big smile that appeared on her face as she saw you definitely helped to make you feel a little calmer.

“Do you want to get coffee?“ You blurted out, mentally face palming at your lack of eloquence.

Lia chuckled, finding exactly this awkwardness endearing. „Yeah, I’d love to,“ she replied to your relief.

After training you met up at a coffee shop you had gone to a million times in the past, but this time felt entirely different, you might as well have been on another planet.

Once the two of you had found some seats and ordered your beverages, Lia looked at you expectantly. You had this all planned out, but now your mind was completely blank and you couldn’t think of a single thing you wanted to say.

Dejected you buried your face in your hands. “Man I’m so bad at this. Sorry, Lia!” You moaned.

Lia gently tugged your finger away from your face, holding on a little longer than necessary. “This isn’t a test, Y/N, just start with why you asked me out for coffee and then we’ll go from there. I don’t expect a perfectly rehearsed speech.”

You did expect that from yourself though because you knew Lia would have been able to deliver one. Sadly you were once again a disappointment to yourself, so there was nothing else to do than follow Lia’s advice.

“I guess the main reason is that I missed you. So much that it’s sometimes difficult to breath and if there’s one thing I know for sure by now it’s that I can’t imagine a future that you’re not part of. I can’t believe how stupid I was not to realize that ages ago.”

At this Lia huffed unhappily, she didn’t like the way you put yourself down at all. Despite this she didn’t interject, she didn’t want to stop your flow of words, knowing how hard it would be for you to get back into the mindset of sharing so freely, even with her.

“So often I was happy to get out of the apartment Jessica and I shared to spend time with you. When something good happened or well I guess also something bad you were always the first person I wanted to share it with. Nothing makes me happier than to see you happy and when you smile at me my entire world lights up. I can’t believe that I didn’t realize that you’ve been more than my best friend for the longest time.”

“And I know three weeks probably doesn’t seem like enough time to get over such a long relationship, but the truth is I’ve been finished with that relationship for a long time, and I think so has Jessica. We just stayed together out of habit. And don’t get me wrong, there’s still some things I need to do, like have a long and honest conversation with her, but I really want you back in my life. I completely understand though if you’re not ready. That’s totally valid of course…”

You would have continued to ramble if Lia hadn’t stopped you by gently pressing a finger to your lips, her eyes shining with love and warmth.

“I think we’re ready for that too. Not start a relationship right away, I need more time before that and I think you do too, but just things like this. Spend time together, hang out, slowly figure out together how our new normal is going to look like. Does that sound okay?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” you responded.

Not too long ago you had lain in a hotel bed in Switzerland scared because things between you and Lia would never be the same again, now you were filled to the brim with happiness and hope because things would never be the same again. Just the thought of how your relationship with Lia was going to look like made you feel excited. It was everything you’d never dared to dream of.

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #lia wälti imagine #lia wälti x reader #lia walti imagine #lia walti x reader

[lineffability]

"Crowley."

Crowley froze, every atom of his body coming to a complete standstill. Aziraphale had appeared out of nowhere, just like that, and he felt like a fly in a spider's web, like he had just run against a glass door that he could not have seen. Oh, this was cruel. He did not turn around.

"Don't even use doors anymore?" He tried to keep his voice level, cold, unaffected. He failed considerably, but the message got across anyways.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, immediately flinching at the words. The first time they were seeing each other again, after-- after that, and his first words were I'm sorry and he was apologizing for not using a door? Aziraphale felt like swearing, but could not. "I thought you wouldn't open if I-- well. I thought this was easier. Like a bandaid."

"Well, you were right. I wouldn't have." Steel was creeping into Crowley's voice, steel around his heart. With a forcing of limbs, he spun around, his gaze piercing through the armor of his sunglasses. Facing him.

"I need your help" Aziraphale said.

"What," Crowley said. He had possibly never put as much meaning into a single word. The glass door turned into a Great Wall. Aziraphale understood. But he was willing to climb.

The angel (oh, a true angel now, wasn't he--not his angel) fumbled, talking with his hands before his mouth even opened. Talking with his eyes, too, but they got lost in translation. Repelled by a black mirror.

"I know this is untoward. I know it's-- But Crowley, I don't have a lot of time."

"Nothing lasts forever, yeah," Crowley spat, hating himself the second the words left his lips. Unnecessary cruelty. Demonic, huh? Worse yet, Aziraphale accepted the verbal lashing. Don't forgive me, Crowley thought.

Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all.

"Why are you here?"

Aziraphale glanced upwards. Then he looked intently at Crowley. I don't have much time. Right. He couldn't speak freely, Crowley realized. Of course he couldn't. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, what he had known would happen. His angel in chains. (Yet here he was. Here he was.)

"They don't know I'm here," Aziraphale mumbled, gesticulating weakly between them and Up. "I guess I can divert their attention now, for a bit. Comes with the new powers"--he shrugged helplessly--"but not for long. Crowley, do you know about-- about the-- what they're--"

"Armageddon 2.0? Sure."

There was an undecipherable look in Aziraphale's eyes. "Why didn't you-- well. It's not just. I mean it kind of is--it's. More than that. Crowley, I need you to do something for me."

"No."

"This is important." (This isn't about us.)

"I don't care." (There is no us anymore.)

"You do! You always have."

"Oh not this again," Crowley hissed. "You were an angel once. You can be forgiven. Shut up."

"That's not what I meant."

With two long, angry strides, Crowley closed the space between them. Menace, anger, hurt-- "Then what did you mean?" He spat the words. Like a weapon. (Then why was it a question?)

Aziraphale's face crumbled. He stood his ground nonetheless, not backing away. The angel's anger was less spiky, but it rose to meet Crowley's. It made his next words hit like bricks. "I mean that you love. I mean that you, Crowley, are the best person I know. I mean that I love you."

The words dropped like a lead balloon.

There was utter silence between them.

Why were they so close?

Why were his sunglasses so dark? Aziraphale saw only his own reflection. He couldn't bear that, and dropped his gaze. Oh, worse. There was his mouth, mere inches away.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley's lips, really really looked, and there was nothing more, now that he knew about the feeling of Crowley's lips and of his heart, there was nothing more he wanted to do than to kiss him. But he couldn't, he couldn't. Not like this. He needed the next time (he had to believe in a next time, in a time with Crowley, again)--the next time they kissed he needed it to be good and happy and an affirmation. He couldn't bear it otherwise. He would break entirely. He was sure of it.

But still, still-- Crowley was so close. He could smell nothing but him. Think of nothing but him. That weakness again, that soft spot inside him he had never known how to hold down. And with it, Want reared its greedy head. Aziraphal leaned in ever so slightly, felt their noses touch-- and then used all his strength to move away, to pull back. It was not the right time. Not yet.

He looked past Crowley, who might have as well turned to a pillar of salt. Crowley, whose face was a mask he couldn't let slip. The air flickered between them.

There were tears in his eyes when he finally forced his gaze towards Crowley's face, a silent plead to not misunderstand. Please, please. But he couldn't expect that of him. He was pulling away again. But not because he wanted to. No, there was nothing he wanted more than to pull closer. There was nothing more he wanted than to talk to him, to truly talk, to explain and apologize and make amends, but he was bound by Duty and Rules and Watching Eyes more than he ever had been.

This was his rebellion: he lifted a hand, the ghost of a touch, fingertips against cheekbone. The memory of holding on. Of never wanting to let go. Crowley flinched without moving, a shiver of his lips. Aziraphale let his hand drop, briefly, to Crowley's chest, holding it over his human heart. It was beating just like his.

This was his successful magic trick, when it counted: he drew away, leaving a crack in Crowley's steel-clad heart, and a note in his chest pocket.

"I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Of course you do."

"Oh, Crowley. I--" But he did not finish the sentence, knew there was no proper way how. So he said, quietly, softly, "Trust me, please."

And he did. Crowley hated it, hated it so much, but he did, he did trust him despite it all. But it did not erase the hurt. The festering wound. Now what was he supposed to do with that?

With one last pointed look, Aziraphale vanished.

Crowley was alone.

His defenses lay shattered at his feet, and he slowly gathered them back up. He did not mend the cracks. (That's where the light had gotten in.) He cleared his throat. Tried to banish from his mind the look in Aziraphale's eyes, the memory of his lips and of his tears.

And failed considerably.

I love you.

(Touched his cheek, and then his chest, and faltered.)

[this fic is now also on ao3 and being continued there]

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #crowley x aziraphale #in which crowley and aziraphale meet for the first time after the Divorce #oh god ok i really love this??? #i wrote it in one go and am posting unedited but #i need this ?!?!? #im also going through the whole 'i wanna know how this continues' vs 'you're the one writing it' idiocy #oh you wanna know how it ends?? then write it??? fool #but i dont know...how it continues....yet. #i do have ideas though... #inefficable #my writing

[beenbaanbuun]

fruit w/ poly!woosan

awful horrible horny thoughts about sitting against wooyoung’s chest while san fucks you. it’s like you’re in two different worlds, with one man grinding into you, grunting with every thrust he makes, and the other talking your ear off and offering you pieces of cut up fruit every few seconds.

and you’re trying to pay attention to what wooyoung is trying to tell you, but you simply can’t when san begins to play with your clit, tweaking it between his fingers with every thrust. and so you whine and whimper, but wooyoung won’t accept that and shuts you up by placing half a strawberry on your tongue. he watches you carefully as you chew, and you’re grateful when san slows for a few short seconds as you swallow it down, only for him to speed up again once he’s sure you won’t choke.

“and i just think your boss needs to be more considerate of you, baby,” wooyoung mumbles into your hair. normally you’d try to give some type of response, but the second you open your mouth, san forcibly brings your attention back to him with a particularly hard thrust. wooyoung tuts as your eyes roll into the back of your head, but carries on nonetheless, “because he’s going to work you to the bone if he doesn’t, and he’s not the one that has to sit here and take care of you when you’re too stressed to function.”

this time he presses a peach slice to your lips and you promptly open them. he only slides it in half way, leaving the rest of it poking out. san - who still doesn’t slow the pace of his pelvis - takes the hint and leans forwards. the exposed half of the peach is swiftly covered by his lips, and he bites down, taking it for himself. he swallows it swiftly before leaning in to lick away the droplet of juice that has run down your chin. his tongue is hot against your skin, and you can only moan as it travels up from your neck to your lips. he laps at them as you chew the fruit and swallow it down, moaning as he tastes the sweetness of the fruit.

“fucking hell,” he grunts, “didn’t think there was anything that could make you taste sweeter, babe, but i stand corrected.”

wooyoung just chuckles into your ear as he lifts yet another piece of fruit to your lips and does the same thing. only this time, he tilts your head just far enough to give him access to your lips. he leans in close, breath fanning over your face.

“i don’t believe anything could make you sweeter,” he whispers, “but let’s see if san’s right, hm?”

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #wooyoung smut #wooyoung hard hours #wooyoung hard thoughts #san hard thoughts #san hard hours #san smut

[moonjxsung]

Where the Storm Looms

Copyright Ⓒ 2023 by Moonjxsung

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner. Doing so will result in a legal takedown per the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and is subject to legal action.

*This fic is part 2 to “When the Rain Stops.” You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 13k

Warnings: smoking, drinking, mention of cheating, mention of masturbation, mention of casual sex, brief mention of calories, nipple play, unprotected sex, bulge kink, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: Now living in the city he despises, Minho is determined to find you again- despite the sacrifices he’ll have to make.

18+. mdni!

•

They say if you love something, you have to set it free. And if it comes back to you, it’s yours.

So what implication can be drawn if you go searching for it- for three months and 13 days straight?

Minho isn’t sure.

The city is just as grimy as he remembered it- teeming with the sounds of pushy street vendors, bumper-to-bumper traffic and conversations of plummeting stocks at every corner. The coffee is overpriced, and the people dress in gray slacks even on laundry day. The girls are pretty- they’re decent in bed, they work good jobs and they can carry a conversation well as long as it involves their respective companies or an ex-boyfriend.

But none of them are you.

Minho feels stupid for thinking about it this extensively. A random hookup in his bar as a result of bad weather conditions- one you never even bothered saying goodbye to him after, and yet he’s still hung up on you.

That stupid game. He should've never let you fix that arcade game. Maybe then you wouldn’t have stayed so long, wouldn’t have kissed him back even though he’s the one who initiated it. Wouldn’t have let him fuck you on the pool table, moaning his name over and over again like a prayer permanently etched into his memory. But he didn’t stop any part of it- in fact, he didn’t want to. Minho knows he wouldn’t have been able to deny you anything you asked for that night, not with the way you looked at him through wide sparkling eyes, scared you’d angered him, when all he really wanted was to keep you safe. Safe from the storm, safe from people with ill intent. He’d pour you a hundred cups of Diet Coke on the rocks if you asked, or be a chance card in another game of pool you’d inevitably lose at. He’d make love to you repeatedly on any surface inside the dive bar, kissing you every chance he got like it would be his last. Because you changed something in him that night- and he’s determined to find you again.

*

“Still waiting on that garlic bread. And we have another order for fettuccine.”

Minho nods once, drizzling a pan with olive oil and prepping the ingredients that sit in disarray on the counter in front of him.

Tales from the hotel kitchen.

So maybe getting his job back as a private chef was a harder feat than he’d originally anticipated it to be. But Minho’s sudden assimilation back into city life meant he had to make adjustments- sacrifices. And although he’s still technically the owner of the little dive bar 6 hours out of the city, he recently signed co-ownership off to Jeongin, who’s been practically running the place while Minho does some soul-searching in the city.

Of course, the soul he’s searching for is nowhere to be found.

Coffee shops, bookstores, convenience shops, dive bars... Minho recently read there are nearly 2 million people in this godforsaken city at any given moment of the day. That’s a 0.0000005% chance he’ll run into you again. Coupled with the fact he’s already run into you once before, and slept with you, the odds are considerably lower. But nonetheless, the objective remains.

Sometime after the initial run-in, Minho also realized he knows nearly nothing about you. You never spoke of an occupation, or a significant other, or even your favorite color. He does know you live in the city, you’re vulnerable against married men and you can use a screwdriver like a cellphone. The rest is left to his wandering imagination.

“Minho, your bread is burning,” a voice interrupts, and he snaps out of the daze he’s in to lower the heat on the oven. Minho’s sous chef Seungmin sighs in irritation, practically pushing Minho aside to retrieve the loaf from the oven himself.

“Do you want me to take over for the evening? You seem really distracted and we’re super busy out there.”

“No, I’m fine,” Minho says, his eyes darting briefly to the window across from him.

Dark rain clouds loom over the afternoon sky, but it doesn’t rain- in fact, it hasn’t rained once since that night. At first, he sees it as some sort of blessing, attributing the mostly-clear skies to your presence somewhere in the city. Perhaps where you go, the sun follows.

But he quickly realizes that it’s more of a curse, this constant storm looming over him, taunting him with promises of darkened clouds and rainfall, only for the nighttime to bring clear skies once again.

It never rains anymore. Sometimes Minho thinks he imagined you, that night in his bar.

Maybe he imagined the rain, too.

*

The ceiling of this apartment is in desperate need of some TLC, Minho thinks, as he lays in bed that night with hands folded over his chest. It’s riddled with cracks and imperfections, running along the drywall like a design choice. But it’s not a design choice- it’s a result of the shitty architectural integrity of this crowded city. Everyone’s so desperate to live out here they’d put up with leaky roofs and cockroaches before they’d live in the suburbs. Minho thinks back to his apartment in the suburbs, where his three cats are currently being taken care of by a friend, and the biggest pain point is patching up thumbtack holes when he moves things around. It’s spacious, a lot bigger than this dump, and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.

There’s no set time Minho has dedicated to being out here. “When the time is right, I’ll leave,” he told his friend, averting his gaze to avoid raising suspicions about his intentions out here. But to most, it’s clear Minho is going through something. His hair is visibly longer, the silky ends of it now resting just above his shoulders. He can’t be bothered to care about what he wears, knowing very well that he doesn’t blend in with the other city-dwellers when he’s in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. But without the bar to dress up for like he used to, he doesn’t find reason in trying.

Minho’s also well aware that he looks like a complete lunatic, coming out to the city like this to search for a hookup. If your paths do cross, there’s a likelihood you’ll call the police and have him arrested for stalking. You could also have zero recollection of who he is, or that you ever hooked up with him. You could have a boyfriend, be married by now, or just not interested in Minho. Maybe you regret that night. Maybe you lied about being from the city. You could be on the other side of the world by now, and he’d have no clue.

But he feels it- he feels you, in this city, at every corner he turns. He sees traces of you in the people who smile at him when he passes them by. He sees you in the people who hold doors open for him, the baristas who make foam hearts in his lattes every morning, even the businessmen when they catch themselves admiring the beauty of the buildings on a smoke break. He sees you in all things good, when he’s reminded momentarily that the world has more to offer than boxing him in the confines of a dark bar out in the suburbs. And while he’s not completely in love with life all over again, it’s a start.

The hotel patrons give their compliments to his cooking, and he’s reminded of his days as a private chef again, chasing the sweet high of people fawning over his entrees and desserts. When he calls Jeongin to check up on the bar, he remembers the view out the window by the kitchen- nothing but a parking lot, empty most days, or plagued by truck drivers and prostitutes.

Sure, his apartment window in the city faces a brick wall, but he can escape at any given moment of the day to be part of the towering skyscrapers and city lights that stay on all night. It’s then that he feels bad for Jeongin, who doesn’t have the same luxury all the way out there.

Of course, Minho also remembers the sex from that night. It plays in his head on a loop, often echoing in his brain at the worst of times. The way you’d called out his name was all but intoxicating, chanting it in the empty space of the spare room like you’d done it a hundred times before. Your fingers looped through his hair, massaging his locks in praise while your moans did the rest. Your lips on his, smiling when he teased you about the game of pool- teasing him back, like the complex woman he knew you were.

He remembers the way your hardened nipples felt between his fingers, memorizing their feel with his nimble hands while he pressed his third erection of the night against you, a confession that this is what you do to me.

The way you took him with complete ease, undoubtedly craving him, too, gushing with arousal as he fit so perfectly inside you.

“You’re so big,” you’d said to him, and Minho isn’t sure he ever felt confident in his girth until it was inside of you, thrusting in and out like he was trying to make his semen catch, painting your walls white while you squirted on his still-hard cock.

He can’t get off with girls from the city unless he’s thinking of you and him, in the bar, bent over the pool table. He also avoids the spare room of the bar now, getting hard almost instantly at the sight of it.

It’s embarrassing, and he knows it, tucking his now-softened cock back into his boxers and reaching for tissues on his makeshift cardboard box nightstand. The shame washes over him as he folds his hands over his chest again, eyes locked with the shitty drywall ceiling. Have the cracks gotten bigger? He’s not sure of the large one to the left, caving in toward the window in the shape of a backwards L. If it rains, the roof will surely leak. How do you fix a leaky roof? Is it ever going to rain again? Where are you?

*

On a random Tuesday in the middle of the month, Minho runs into Jisung again.

He’s out by one of the tall buildings in the financial district, one hand shoved in the pocket of his suit while the other brings a turquoise-colored vape up to his lips.

Of course he vapes, Minho thinks. He’s just as predictable as he’s always been.

“Is that the Lee Minho?” Jisung says, blowing a cloud of strawberry-scented smoke into the air. Minho shrugs, saying nothing as he approaches Jisung.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Lost ownership of the bar or what?”

“No,” Minho replies, a stoic expression on his face. “I’m living here.”

“You’re living here? You? Avid hater of city life and all things that inhabit it?”

“Yeah,” Minho says, counting black spots on the concrete below him. “Not permanently. Just looking for something.”

“What are you looking for?”

Minho swallows momentarily. He knows he could bring up your name, and Jisung would probably know where to find you. After all, the two of you bonded over your love of the city before you almost went home with him that night. But he refrains, suddenly feeling a little jealous and overprotective. It’s the reminder that Minho was technically a second choice- maybe you’d just slept with him to get some relief for the sexual tension you felt with Jisung. You did lecture him when he cockblocked you, after all.

“Seeing if the apartments are better out here,” he settles on saying. “They’re not.”

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, well, I could’ve easily told you that.”

He slides his vape back into the pocket of his suit, adjusting the buttons as he begins to speak again.

“When was the last time I saw you, anyway?”

Minho blinks nervously. His mind races with options of what to reply, but Jisung is faster.

“That storm!” He finally exclaims, clapping enthusiastically. “When we were stuck there while it rained fucking cats and dogs out there. You, me and Miss ‘hard to get’.”

“Right,” Minho says, his pulse quickening a little at the mention of you.

“Can you believe she backed out like that? I went back to that hotel with blue balls like you wouldn’t believe. I bet she’s a good fuck, too, the way she’s persuaded so easily.”

Minho grows irate, doing his best to refrain from lashing out at Jisung to defend you. The way he speaks about you like you’re disposable, like you weren’t only swayed by him because he puts on this act, one where he’s single and nice. Both polar opposite of the sleazy man standing in front of Minho right now.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jisung says. “I ran into her like a week after that, anyway.”

Minho feels his heart stop. He finally makes eye contact with Jisung, voice hitching in the back of his throat as he searches for words to say. What were you doing? What were you wearing? Were you with anyone? Did Jisung try to pursue you again? Was there any trace that you were as changed by Minho as he is by you?

“You did?” Minho queries.

“Yeah. She remembered me, for sure. Said she googled me and found out I was married. That’s the problem with women these days- they fucking google you. Who does that?”

Minho observes the way Jisung snorts with laughter, shaking his head like he’s not a serial cheater himself.

“Where was she?” Minho asks, quickly aware of the way the question comes off as a little too bold.

“Uh… I can’t remember. Think we were in the parking garage off 7th. She was all dressed up like she was going to work or something. Must be a private investigator with the way she stalks her potential hookups.”

Minho laughs internally at the irony.

“Why do you ask?” Jisung chimes in again, sounding a little skeptical of Minho’s behavior now.

“Nothing,” Minho says quickly. “Just curious.”

Jisung nods slowly, not taking his gaze off of Minho. He’s visibly tense, thoughts circling his mind as he tries to recall the buildings on 7th.

“I should get going,” Jisung says, pulling his vape back out to take another hit, much like the nicotine-addicted cheater Minho sees him for.

“Good catching up,” Jisung finishes, exhaling a cloud of smoke into his face. “Catch you later.”

And as Minho leaves, he turns back around to Jisung, pausing momentarily before speaking again.

“Oh, Jisung?”

“Yeah?”

Minho cocks his head slightly.

“Your wife really deserves better.”

*

The parking garage on 7th is a shithole. It’s a narrow, almost cylindrical building, filled back to back with rows of fancy cars. Minho remains parked on the third floor, sat in his car like he’s staking out the place, eyes darting over every passerby in hopes you’ll be one of them.

But they’re all middle-aged folks, blabbering into their cellphones with briefcases in hand, no sense of purpose for the life they’re living aside from money, and maybe their fancy cars.

He sighs, reaching for a cigarette and cupping his hand over the lighter to set it ablaze. Smoking is a recent development. Minho doesn’t think he’s chain-smoked like this since his culinary school days, when he’d spend late nights preparing for exams and practicing his plating techniques. It’s not that the cigarettes relieve him, nor does he even care for the flavor. But he does it as a form of sacrifice. The city keeps you from him, and consequently, he’s pulled back largely from things he actually enjoys, choosing to mirror the actions of the city-dwellers. Smoking, casual sex, drinking, dressing down, hardly ever eating full meals. He’s become reduced to a product of the disdain he feels for himself, spiraling further with every cruel reminder that you’re not his.

When his car stakeout passes the three hour mark, Minho is all out of cigarettes. He’s also starving, and dying for a beer. So he pulls out of the lot, most of the spaces vacant now, anyway, and starts the painful trip back to his apartment. The streets smell like sewage with his windows rolled down, but his own car reeks like a cheap casino. With one hand hanging loosely over the door of his car, Minho speeds down the crowded streets, groaning when he’s promptly halted by a red light. Cars press their horns impatiently as nobody seems to move. Minho glances to the right of him, scanning the streets that begin to darken as night falls. And then he sees it- a dive bar. It’s a city dive bar, of course, tainted by its rustic gentrifying decor and teeming with hipsters. But he’s sure you’re in there, knowing you probably regularly finish work and hit up the nearest bar to down Diet Cokes and chicken wings. In a frantic motion, Minho puts the car in reverse, using one hand to steer as he makes an illegal u-turn. The cars around him honk angrily, shouting profanities and pulling up to fill his spot. But he crosses several lanes to reach the bar, a sense of anticipation bubbling inside him already.

*

The place is much fancier than Minho’s, albeit much smaller. An open bar makes up most of the dive bar itself, a sleek laminate wood finish surrounding the series of draft beer dispensers. The wall above the bar is plastered in license plates from all different regions, and the patrons around all appear to be tourists judging by the way they take photos of it. There are several bartenders working tonight, the nearest one to Minho being a heavily tattooed gentleman with bleach blonde hair.

“What can I get you?” He asks enthusiastically, holding a pen and pad in his hand. Minho’s not sure he’s ever seen a bartender write down an order for a single beer.

When the bartender makes his way to the tap, Minho sits on one of the circular red stools. They’re a little too tall for his liking, swiveling around erratically while he catches his balance and glances around at the patrons. He’s the only one alone here, standing out even more in his loose jeans and an old jersey.

“That’s $12,” the bartender says when he returns.

“Can I just run a tab?” Minho asks, scoffing internally at the steep price.

“First drink’s upfront payment,” the bartender replies, flipping a tablet around to Minho for his payment details. Minho swipes his card and confidently smashes the ‘no tip’ button, earning a little eye roll from the bartender. These bars are nothing like his back home.

When the bartender moves away to attend to another patron, Minho swivels around on his stool, scanning the bar for a sign of you. There’s not a single cup of coke on any of the tables here. Everyone’s happily sipping away at whiskeys and vermouths, their drinks clutched closely in hand as they chat about their boring lives. Minho tunes in briefly to a conversation about someone’s broken toe and sighs, wishing so badly he had you to converse with. You’d probably laugh at all of Minho’s jokes about the people here, agreeing with his presumptions of them. See him? He’s definitely compensating. That guy there needs to cool off the vodka seltzers. She’s definitely not interested in him.

As he takes a sip from his mug of beer, it suddenly catches his eye. The arcade game, tucked away in the back of the bar like a little secret. It’s neglected, probably no one around old enough to know how to operate the thing. Minho rises from his seat, making his way to the game and smiling at the sight.

It reminds him of you, the giant black display of Galaga, decorated with whimsical drawings of aliens and Galaxian Flagships. He pulls out a quarter, slotting it in the machine, because of course you have to pay at this one, and slots it in, waiting for the thing to start up.

Only it doesn’t, the game not even emitting so much as a hum from the monitor. He smacks it a few times, partly in efforts to start it up, and partly to reclaim his last quarter. But it’s a moot effort- the game is completely dead.

Minho makes his way back to the bar, frustrated at the deja vu of broken arcade games and the memories they bring back to him.

“Your game’s broken,” Minho says to the bleach blonde bartender.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That thing’s been dead for months now.”

“I put a quarter in. Swallowed it and won’t spit it out.”

“Yeah, it does that. Sorry, man.”

“Sorry? You should be. That thing shouldn’t be down here if it isn’t working.”

The bartender narrows his eyes as he mixes another drink for a patron.

“Yeah, well, people don’t usually try it. Again, sorry man. Not really anything I can do about it.”

Minho is angry now, his ears flushed a crimson shade as he speaks, not in any mood to reason with the bartender.

“Look man, just give me my quarter. Can’t you key the machine or something?”

“We don’t have access to it. It’s from some local vendor. You’re welcome to go find a few pennies on the ground if the 25 cents means so much to you.”

“What the fuck kind of behavior is that for a bartender?”

The other patrons and bartenders have noticed now, quieting down as they watch Minho down a few more sips of his beer angrily.

“Look man, you’re gonna have to leave. I can’t have you in here acting like this.”

“I want my quarter.”

“I can’t get your quarter, dude. It’s gone. Get out before I call the police.”

“Why don’t you hire someone to fix the machine, then? There are people in the city who do that, you know. I know someone who’d get it fixed in seconds. She’d be able to get the fucking quarter out, too.”

“Call the police,” the bartender says to another, and Minho raises his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I’m leaving.” He chugs the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as the other patrons look on in shock. Nearby, a different bartender has a phone clutched in his hand, ready to dial the cops like they’d requested.

“Tell me one thing,” Minho says before turning around.

The man says nothing, eyes narrowed in fear as he waits for Minho to finish.

“You guys sell Diet Coke here?”

The bartenders look around at each other nervously, confused at the question.

“We only have Pepsi,” one chimes in.

And Minho nods, understanding.

“Take care,” Minho says, waving them off as he finally exits the bar.

*

“I need you to come back for a little bit,” Jeongin says into the receiver one morning. He sounds panicked, like he might break down at any moment. Minho knows he wouldn’t request this of him if it wasn't something serious.

“Okay,” Minho replies. “What happened?”

“The place was robbed last night. By a group of guys. Nobody’s hurt, but they did have a knife on them. Cleared out one of the registers.”

Minho sighs, suddenly feeling awful about being out here. What is he doing out here when the business he owns is being threatened? Even worse, putting Jeongin and the other staff at risk while he embarks on the futile task of searching for what’s already gone? There’s no good explanation for it. It’s selfish- sure, he’s finally chasing after what he wants, but it’s a selfish task nonetheless.

“I can be there this evening,” Minho says, already mentally preparing himself for the six hour drive out there. “Just close up for the day. Make sure everyone gets home safe and knows they’ll be paid for the day anyway.”

Jeongin understands, hanging up on his end of the line and closing up the bar.

As Minho tosses his cell phone aside, he looks around the apartment, sighing heavily when he observes the state of things. His stuff is still stored away in cardboard boxes, the apartment looking more like a showroom than a space lived-in by him. The walls remain bare of any form of decorations, the tiny excuse for a kitchen is void of dishes and cutlery, even his toiletries are in travel bags, like he’s ready to go home at any given moment. And he just might be, after this week’s events.

*

The drive home is as excruciating as he remembers it. Exiting the city means sitting in miles of traffic, alongside impatient city-dwellers who somehow voluntarily make the commute everyday for their jobs. Minho briefly wonders if you’re in the traffic, too. You’re a little impatient, he remembers, thinking about how you demanded a phone charger from him that night in the bar. Only your impatience is something he’d gladly put up with in traffic like this, probably taking the opportunity to play his favorite songs for you and listen to you talk his ear off. He sighs to himself, wishing so badly you could fill the empty leather seat next to him, currently inhabited by empty cigarette boxes and discarded takeout boxes.

Six agonizing hours later, the sun’s beginning to set as Minho pulls into the familiar parking lot of the bar. Waning beams of sunlight reflect off the old bar sign, almost luring Minho inside as the nighttime chases closely after. When he unlocks the door and makes his way inside, it’s like he never left. The red booths are vacant, the peeling vinyl of their seats still scattered across the floor like he remembers. Bottles of alcohol neatly line the shelves behind the counter, which don’t reside far from the shiny mugs and glasses inside the cabinets. Minho runs a finger over the counter, well impressed with the state of the bar since Jeongin’s taken over. It’s impeccable, almost better than it was when Minho first left.

“Minho?” A voice calls, and a figure peeks from around the corner.

It’s Jeongin, who looks different in casual wear for the day, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. He’s wearing his signature pair of thick framed glasses, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on one of the barstools.

“It was this register,” he says, gesturing to the one closest to Minho. “I think it was roughly $300 in there. They all had dark jackets and I couldn’t see their faces.”

Minho nods, opening the register to investigate, and then slumps back in the stool behind the counter.

“I’ll take the remaining cash to the safe. Let’s stay closed for a few days while I file a police report. They’ll probably want to poke around in here, and I don’t want any of the patrons to panic.”

It’s Jeongin’s turn to nod, making a mental note of Minho’s instructions. After a brief pause, he speaks again.

“How’s the city?”

“The city is…the city.”

Jeongin chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

“Are you working?”

Minho nods. “Not my private chef gig. But it’s a restaurant. I have a sous chef, which helps. It’s nothing special, though.”

There’s a moment of silence as Jeongin traces the table pattern with his fingers. He wants to ask more from him- he wants to know why Minho’s out there in the first place, why he even agreed to sign co-ownership off to Jeongin when this was his bar he was so proud of for all those years. But there’s seemingly no courteous way to go about it- any which way, he feels like he’s overstepping. Minho is usually on the quieter side, only confiding in his colleagues when it’s something that affects the business.

“Minho, are you…” he begins, his voice wavering in fear that he’ll unintentionally offend.

“Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Minho is silent, and for a second, it’s hard for Jeongin to gauge his reaction. His eyes remain locked on Jeongin’s pupils, trembling in discomfort as he thinks back to you. He thinks of the city, of the bar fight, of the hours spent in a dingy parking garage and the cracks in his apartment ceiling.

Jeongin begins to take back his question, disappointed in himself he’s even chosen to utter the inquiry. But Minho finally does give an answer, albeit a vague one.

“Not yet,” he replies, swallowing nervously before continuing. “You’ll be the first to know.”

When Jeongin leaves, he takes the cozy atmosphere of the bar with him, and the place now feels colder, more unfamiliar. Minho looks out the window at the darkness that envelopes the parking lot, feeling a sense of unease in knowing he’s going to leave it all behind again. This bar needs him, it needs stability. It needs someone to look out for the people who are vulnerable to sleazy married men or robbers. As he pockets the cash to transfer to the safe, he glances at the yellow Pac-Man game, sitting proudly where it has for the past three months since its repair. Little ghosts dance along the display screen, prompting users with ‘press A to start’.

Minho simply walks past it, knowing very well there’s little joy in a game that only brings back painful reminders. He makes his way to the back office, where the red leather couch and desk still remain. The cash is deposited in the safe, and the keys in the file cabinet- third drawer from the top.

Minho feels a gravitational pull to the spare room upstairs- he knows he shouldn’t, very well aware that he’s only hurting himself by picturing you up there. But still he does. Hands shoved in his pockets, he makes his way up the creaking stairs and through the little hallway.

The room is just as suffocating as he remembers it. The same old pool table sits in the middle of the room, and at the back where the arcade game previously lived, there’s a rectangle on the carpeted floor where it once sat, contrasting a bright untouched green to the older, worn down carpet. Minho doesn’t leave the doorway; he just stands, observing the room in all its mundane appearance. His eyes remain on the spot you’d previously hoisted yourself up to sit on the pool table, and he can almost see himself looming over you, too. From this angle, it doesn’t feel like it ever happened. It plays more like a cheap movie where a famous scene was shot. Like a figment of his imagination.

Have you found what you’re looking for?

He hasn’t, not yet. But seeing the potential of this old room, in the bar he owns, Minho knows it’s finally time to stop searching.

*

Back in the city, Minho’s days are numbered by the countdown. Two days until he’ll leave all this behind, for good this time.

The kitchen is busier than normal on this gloomy Thursday, more staff than usual working floor while others make trips up to hotel rooms for delivery.

Minho drizzles pans with olive oil in between plating a shrimp scampi, tonight’s special. The air is thick and fragrant with seafood and Parmesan cheese.

“I need a lava cake for room 302!” Seungmin exclaims to Minho in a rushed tone.

“On the cart by the door. Second row.”

Cooks work diligently in their respective areas, and Minho wipes his brow with the back of his sleeve. It’s a stressful role, no doubt, but he still feels a sense of sadness knowing he won’t be back to cooking like this once he’s back in town. He tries to mentally prepare himself for days of mixers and signature cocktails again.

“Minho, get out of here and go take a lunch,” Seungmin says as he reappears from behind the door. “That way the schedule doesn’t rearrange.”

Seungmin is a blunt sous chef, but he’s dedicated to his work. Minho knows he’ll have no problem working his way up to a head chef role one day. He appreciates his attention to detail and ability to work with difficult patrons, and he’d certainly entertain the idea of bringing him to work at the bar back home if he liked.

“On it,” Minho says, already pulling off his apron.

“Oh, and can you bring a Diet Coke to table 6 out there? I brought regular on accident.”

“Yup,” he says plainly, grabbing a clear glass from the clean stack and filling it at the fountain.

Minho thinks back to his apartment- this might be his last day at work, but he still has a generous amount of packing to do when he gets home. He’s relieved he kept most of his stuff in boxes, or else he’d easily be stuck here another week.

Minho counts boxes in his head, balancing the glass in one hand and his apron in another as he exits the kitchen to the seating area. He’s seldom out here, only really passing through when he gets in for the day. But he’s not in charge of serving guests, and the whole thing suddenly feels a little uncomfortable to him. Quiet jazz music plays overhead as tables fill the room with noise of their conversations, everyone dressed up with legs crossed neatly under white tablecloths.

Minho looks around frantically as beads of condensation on the glass wet his hand- where the hell is table 6?

A family sits at the back, every member paired with their drink of choice. An older couple sits closer to Minho, two cups of coffee steaming in front of them.

And by the window, two women deep in conversation- one of them passionately sharing tales of work or perhaps a lover.

And the other one, you.

Minho thinks he’s hallucinating for a moment, when he first observes you sitting there. You’re nodding as the other woman talks, a smile pulling on your face as she exaggeratedly makes a hand motion during her story. You’re not dressed like the other city-dwellers here, looking starkly more beautiful in a sweater and a pair of jeans. You’re the only one in here wearing jeans, aside from Minho. He smiles when he takes notice.

Another server passes Minho in a rush, shoving by him with a tray of food in hand.

“Oh sorry,” he says, eyeing him a little confused. “Did you want me to take that? I know you’re on lunch.”

Minho grips the coke firmly in his hand, shaking his head almost immediately. He’s never refused something so fast in his life before.

“No, I got it,” he says, finally taking the first step toward your table.

Minho glances down at his appearance briefly, fixing the collar of his shirt as he approaches you. He’s a little more dressed up for his last day here, a pastel blue button-up tucked into his jeans, his now long hair parted down the middle. He wishes he could tuck back into the bathroom and see himself more clearly, but he knows he’ll lose you if he doesn’t make his move now.

Minho’s thought of this moment so many times, replayed the conversation in his head like a speech he’s been waiting to give. He wants to proclaim his adoration for you, giving you a romantic explanation of how he’s searched for you all these months and never stopped thinking of you. And in an ideal scenario, you’d say the same, kissing him in front of all the restaurant-goers here and leaving back to town with him to live happily ever after.

But he’s never considered the idea of a friend being present. Or being crunched for time on a 30-minute lunch break. It’s all happening so fast, and his head spins with anxiety as he approaches you.

You’re still in conversation when he sets your Diet Coke down at the table a little too hard, hoping to get your attention. You don’t so much as look his way as he does, and he lingers by your table for a moment as he thinks.

“Do you need a straw?” Minho asks, eyes darting over your face briefly. Your hair is a little longer, too, but you look the same. He’s sure you’re not a hallucination.

“No thank you,” you say, finally glancing over at him to give a small nod.

And just like he’s lost for more words, you seem to be too, lips parting slightly as you keep your gaze fixed on his.

*

“Thank you for lunch,” you say to your colleague at the end of the meal, who’s been passionately talking about her recent project at work for the last hour.

You tuned her out after the first 15 minutes, being completely awestruck when the server delivered your requested Diet Coke to your table.

Either the brain fog from work is finally starting to catch up with you, or you’re simply too tired. But the server looks exactly like Lee Minho, the bartender you slept with a few months ago. Normally, you’d tuck away and hide at the sight of running into a hookup again. But Minho wasn’t just a hookup to you.

He’s lingered amongst your thoughts for the better part of those three months, the polite action of protecting you from sleeping with a married man and letting you seek shelter in the storm remaining some of the nicest things someone’s ever done for you.

He wasn’t just a hookup, not with the way he spoke of his hopes and dreams and asked about all of yours. And then he fucked you like a husband, the feeling you got from him bending you over the pool table like that still sending chills down your spine.

Your colleague pulls her scarf and coat on, nodding as she gestures to the door. The lunch rush has died down by now, and most of the tables are vacant as the streets bustle with people returning to work.

“I’m gonna grab a meal to-go,” you tell her. “I’ll meet you back at the office. Thank you again for lunch!”

Fortunately for you, she doesn’t question it, leaving you to order as she heads back to the office.

Minho is nowhere to be seen, only one server present on the floor as it’s more empty now.

“Can I help you?” A voice asks, and you’re met with the warm smile of the singular server.

“I… I wanted to give my compliments to the chef,” you say, sounding a little unsure of yourself.

“I’ll be sure to do that, thank you very much,” he replies, bowing when he finishes.

“I meant my personal thanks,” you clarify, and he furrows his brows in response.

“Uh… sure, I can ask him. Do you know if it was the head chef?”

“His name’s Lee Minho,” you say with a smile. “He’s probably the head chef.”

*

Minho’s sous chef runs his kitchen like the navy, you quickly learn, as he ushers for you to leave soon after Minho exits the kitchen due to the impending dinner rush.

There’s no time to catch up with him, only being able to utter a short “thanks for the meal,” as he waits for you to speak.

But he recognizes you, his gaze staying on yours a little too long as he nervously bows.

“Y/n,” he says in response, the action saying nothing and yet so much at the same time.

And you smile back at him, relieved he still remembers.

As Seungmin calls for him a second time, you pull a pen from the pocket of his apron, scribbling your address on a napkin from one of the tables.

He nods back at you, napkin clutched in hand, as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

And for a brief moment, neither of you can make out the implications of the action. An invitation for sex? A date to catch up? The details are blurry to both of you. But you hope he shows, and Minho already knows he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

*

As you fix your hair in front of the mirror that evening, memories of Minho play in your mind like they did after the night you spent together. You know you had to leave- it wasn’t something you decided lightly, but you and him are fated for different things. And who are you to intervene where the stars align? Minho deserves someone who will be available for him, someone uncomplicated and willing to inhabit the place he loves so dearly.

You, on the other hand, have a historical bad run with men, and so pursuing Minho would be uncharacteristic. But also unfair to him. It’s clear from that night that your worst traits will always remain the most significant parts of you- impatience, judgment and naivety. And while Minho comes off as curt, he’s anything but. He’s too good for you. You’re just a byproduct of this city- everything he despises. It would be over before it even started.

Minho shows at exactly a quarter to nine, knocking twice at the door as he waits out in the hallway for you.

When you unlatch the door, he perks up from nervously staring at the carpeted floor, adjusting his collar and clearing his throat. He looks more casual than you’ve probably ever seen him before, in a striped gray and black top, layered with a black collared shirt and dark ripped jeans. He also looks particularly handsome tonight, but also different, noticeably thinner in his face where his cheekbones protrude generously, his hair a little longer now.

“Hi,” Minho says plainly, his gaze fixated on yours in an almost trance-like state.

“Hi,” you reply, unsure of where to start. “Come in, please.”

You step aside, ushering him into your apartment and shutting the door behind you both. Minho looks around, impressed with the state of your apartment in comparison with his. There are cherry wood bookshelves lining the walls, filled top to bottom with stacks of old novels and textbooks. Colorful modern paintings decorate the walls, which are admittedly much taller than his own, and cozy lighting fills every room in the space.

Minho bows a little, handing you a bottle, and you smile in amusement as you scan the contents. A single liter of Diet Coke.

“You remembered,” you say, endeared by the simple action.

“So you don’t waste your calories,” he replies with a small smile, echoing the statement you told him so many months ago.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you tell him. Minho takes note of the shakiness in your voice, a little relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is. It’s certainly not a matter of picking up where you left off when you both have your walls up like this, but he prefers the silence to your absence any day.

You disappear into the kitchen, pouring both of you glasses of Diet Coke as Minho settles on the edge of the couch. He folds his hands in his lap and blinks nervously, trying so hard to remember everything he’s wanted to confess to you since returning here. But in this proximity to you, in your own home, everything suddenly seems like a bad idea. He feels dramatic, overbearing, trying to make sense of this. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.

When you return, Minho takes a deep breath, quietly thanking you for the beverage when you place it on the coffee table in front of him. And then as he feared, a silence washes over both of you.

You take a sip of your coke, waiting for him to speak, and similarly, he waits for you. You’d forgotten, briefly. That Minho is inherently a quiet guy. It’d been you who brought his walls down, challenged him to a game of pool and even instigated the argument when he told Jisung to leave the bar. As he blinks at you a few times, you realize it may be his way of asking you to do it again, to help him feel comfortable again.

“Your Italian food is on par with your chicken wings,” you say to him, finally breaking the silence. “Think you need to add shrimp scampi to your bar menu.”

Minho smiles, and the whole room seems to brighten up when he does. His eyes turn to little crescents, his grin flashing you the skewed front teeth you were so endeared by when you first met him. His presence feels like the bar did- safe, familiar.

“It’s not my best work,” he replies. “It’s just a temporary job. But I do have a sous chef here, which is a plus.”

“The one with the nice smile? I know, he almost kicked me out for asking to see you. He’s very deceiving.”

You and Minho share laughter, recalling how Seungmin yelled at you several times at the restaurant today. When your laughter dies down, he swallows nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“Thanks for… giving your compliments today,” he says. He really wants to say ‘thank you for seeing me again’.

“I knew I recognized you,” you say back to him. “I was surprised to see you here in the city. I guess I just wanted some confirmation it was really you.”

“It’s me,” Minho says sheepishly. You smile at him, feeling a little sorry at the way his tone sounds so unsure.

“What are you doing in the city, anyway?” You ask.

Minho isn’t sure what to say. In an alternate timeline, he’d like to tell you he came for you. But he knows he’ll come off as a creep, and the last thing he wants is to lose you again.

“Just wanted a break from the suburbs,” he settles on saying.

“Do you like it?”

He toys with a frayed hem on the throw pillow beside him, shaking his head a little hesitantly.

“If I say no, you’ll think less of me.”

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, not wanting you to think he came here for you to pity him. In fact, the reality is quite the opposite.

“I would never think less of you,” you assure him with a gentle smile. “You’re allowed to have your opinions.”

Minho nods, not entertaining the subject anymore.

“How’s the bar?”

“It’s okay,” Minho says, sighing a little as he thinks back to recent events. “It was robbed just the other night.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say to him with widened eyes. “Is everyone… okay?”

“Everyone’s okay,” he affirms. “Just lost some money. I’m working with the police on it, so hopefully we’ll have someone arrested if we’re lucky.”

You nod at his words, feeling disheartened at the mention of the robbery. Although you’re not particularly fond of the suburbs, the bar is a sacred space for you, and knowing he and the staff were put in that situation makes you uneasy.

“How’s work?” Minho asks, and you chuckle at the question.

“Nothing special. I did get a promotion last month, but I’m only making a few dollars more than I was last time we met. Nothing to write home about.”

“We’ll congratulations anyway,” Minho says, raising his glass of Diet Coke. “Well deserved.”

“Thank you,” you say, clinking your glass against his and letting the cool carbonated beverage soothe the nerves still present in your demeanor.

“Oh, you’ll never believe it! I ran into Jisung out here,” you say to Minho with a scoff. “He tried to pursue me again, the bastard. I’m pretty sure he was even wearing a wedding ring this time. I had to tell him I found out he was married on-”

“On Google,” Minho finishes your sentence. “He told me.”

“You saw him too?”

“Yeah, just the other day. He’s just as obnoxious as he was three months ago.”

You smile at Minho, briefly reminded of the way you were able to bond with him as a result of Jisung’s antics.

“I never got to say thank you,” you say a little quietly, averting his gaze. “For that night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you there to help me.”

He looks down, pondering your words for a moment.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. Trust me. But I figured…” your voice trails off, trying desperately to decipher how to word your sentiment politely.

“Figured what?” He says, looking back up at you. His eyes tremble a little in anticipation for your reply.

“I figured we’re just different people.”

Minho nods, pursing his lips together as he replays your words.

“And by that you mean that you’re a successful member of the city, and I’m just a bartender.”

Your face drops at his words, suddenly panicked that he’s come here because he’s angry at you. You would never think less of him for being a bartender- hell, you wouldn’t even think less of him if he was unemployed. You’re not sure you could think less of him if you tried.

“That’s not what I mean. And you know that.”

Minho narrows his eyes a little, challenging you.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you begin, sighing before continuing to speak. “That I’m everything you despise. I let people down. I’m not inherently a good person, the way you are. You know how I stormed in there demanding a phone charger? Fighting you at the bar because you wouldn’t let me sleep with a married man? That’s the kind of person I am. I’m impatient, and naive and I’m nothing like the girls you’re used to.”

“How do you know what I’m used to?”

“Come on, Minho,” you say, and the conversation finally begins to sound a little more natural between the two of you. “You said it yourself- I’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible. Who’s to say that doesn’t apply to people, too?”

“You’re nothing like you say you are,” Minho interrupts, and you can feel yourself getting frustrated at his words.

“How would you know that? Because you slept with me in a bar? I’m not this dream girl you think I am, Minho. I was looking out for you. You deserve better.”

Minho says nothing for a moment, swirling Coke around in his cup and watching the bubbles fizzle away as they hit the rim of the glass. He shakes his head a little to himself, and then he begins to speak again.

“You want to know why I came out here again?”

You remain silent, already knowing what he’s going to say. But to your surprise, his answer is a little more complex.

“I came out here because I wanted to. I wanted to work as a chef again. I wanted new colleagues, I wanted a different view and I was tired of being stuck in that little bar.”

You don’t reply to his statement, waiting for him to continue.

“And do you know why finding you was something I held onto so dearly?”

“Why?” You ask, the question coming out in a shaky tone. He takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I wanted to thank you. I wanted to tell you all about it. To tell you that you were right- sometimes, simple isn’t better. Sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again. I wouldn’t have done any of this if someone really cool didn’t walk into my bar and make it clear to me. I guess part of me just hoped you were changed by it, too.”

Your expression softens at his words, feeling awful for the way this conversation has gone so far. It’s not your intention to hurt him- in fact, you feel particularly protective of Minho.

“I came looking for you, too,” you say after a moment of silence, and Minho perks up at your words.

“You did?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I visited your bar. Twice since that night. I asked for you both times. The guy said you weren’t there anymore. I think after the second time, I took it as a sign to stop trying.”

“Jeongin?” Minho says, furrowing his brows together in visible confusion.

“He was blonde, a little small. Freckles.”

“Felix,” Minho says, chuckling lightly. “He’s a new hire. Jeongin would’ve told you differently. I have co-ownership with him now.”

You nod, folding your hands in your lap.

“I was changed by it,” you say, finally letting your gaze meet his. “I never stopped thinking about you. But it scares me. In so many ways, you’re everything I tried to run from when I left the suburbs. I don’t think I was ever good enough for any of it- all I cared about was money, and my work and finding an apartment with a nice enough view of the city. I didn’t care about the memories I made there, or that there’s genuinely good people. I didn’t even visit my parents very often. You reminded me that there’s more to it than just that. There’s more to the past than its negative aspects. So thank you, too.”

Minho is quiet for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do- how to keep you around. But in this moment, it’s clear to him- he has to let you go. He said what he had to say. He’s done the search, all three months of it, and he found you. He validated his own emotions and made sense of yours- you were just as changed by it as he was. But maybe that’s enough- perhaps the rest is just wishful thinking.

“Looks like we felt the same about it, then,” he says with a small smile, sitting up from the sofa and making his way to peer out the large glass window in your living room.

“And by the way, you definitely succeeded with the view out here. Mine’s just a brick wall.”

You chuckle, making your way over to the window and standing next to him to take in the view, too.

“It’s nice, right? All of the east side is visible from up here.”

“See that down there?” Minho points. “Visited that dive bar the other day. It sucks if you’re wondering.”

“CJ’s? Yeah, it’s kind of a shithole. They don’t even serve Diet Coke.”

Minho chuckles lightly, a little sadness evident in his tone.

“You know, maybe if you swung by and fixed their little arcade game, they’d supply you some. Probably something to do with all the ABC’s.”

“The what?” You query, furrowing your brows together and chuckling as he speaks.

“The little gidgets inside. You know, with the pins.”

You pause to think for a moment, mentally mapping out the circuit inside.

“The EPROMs,” you say finally.

Minho feels his breath hitch in his throat as you utter the acronym. It sounds so unfamiliar, and yet so familiar to him at the same time. He suddenly remembers that night, in the spare room, hearing you say it for the first time.

“The what?” He replies gently, not removing his gaze from the window.

“The EPROMs,” you clarify, a little louder this time.

“Say it again,” Minho breathes, a small smile painted on his face now.

“EPROMs?” You question, turning to face him, visibly confused.

“Yeah, those. What’s it stand for, anyway?” Minho finally asks, turning to face you. You face him, too, endeared by the curiosity he’s displayed for that game repair since the first night you met.

“Erasable programmable read-only memory,” you explain, aware of how close he is in proximity to you now. His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up again, his plump lips pulling into a knowing smile as you speak. He knows he’s wandering into dangerous territory now, but he can’t help it- not when it’s you who makes him feel like this.

“God, it sounds so sexy when you say it,” Minho says sheepishly.

And he knows he shouldn’t entertain it- he’s well aware that his intention is to walk out of here and get on with his life, comfortable with the knowledge that you’d sought him out, too. But he can’t help himself when you’re this close to him, talking circuit repair so intelligently and erotically.

So without another question to stutter, or a fight to be had, he closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips onto yours and kissing you one last time.

You don’t protest the action, instantly tangling your hands in his tresses and reciprocating with the same hungry, passionate kisses he delivers. Maybe it’s the long hair, or the ripped jeans, but part of you also wonders if he’s been dying to kiss you tonight as badly as you’ve been craving him. The flavor is reminiscent of the bar to you, on that pool table like the first time you kissed him. He tastes like mint, enveloping your tongue with hints of Diet Coke while he nibbles on your bottom lip between kisses.

Without any sort of end goal in mind, your hands snake down to his collared shirt, which you tug on hungrily, and then begin to push off his torso. Minho smiles into the kiss, reaffirmed that you want him just the same, and he pulls away momentarily to complete the task of pulling off his button down.

Underneath, his striped t-shirt is cut off generously at the shoulders, completely exposing his arms to you. You almost gasp at the sight of his toned arms jutting out, veins running along his forearms and flexing with each movement. Minho chuckles softly when he takes notice, amused at your reaction.

When his button down shirt is fully off, he kisses you again, hands finding their way to your waist as he pushes himself against you, desperate to feel you against him. You walk backwards, cupping his face between your hands and leading him toward your bedroom.

For a fleeting moment, you’re nervous to take it any further than this, the last person you slept with being Minho himself. You can’t remember which undergarments you wore, or what your bedroom decor looks like to anyone except yourself. But Minho’s kisses shut you up, his lips moving against yours with desire and passion, and you don’t want to do anything except this, right here.

When you’ve made it to the bed, you pull away, crossing your arms over your torso and pulling your sweater off over your head. You’re in a lacy black bra, you realize, because of course you thought to dress for him. Minho blinks a few times, crossing his own arms over his torso and finally pulling his shirt over his head.

It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Minho without his shirt before- he wore that white button down in the bar, only allowing you to see a generous amount of his collarbones. But standing in front of you like this, he’s breathtaking, his toned torso and his sharp collar bones complementing his sculpted thighs and arms so perfectly.

When he takes notice of you staring at him, one hand flies down to his mid-torso, where he spreads a palm out over the skin, seemingly in an attempt to cover something. You take one step forward, gently placing a hand over his and moving it so that his torso is exposed again. And across his tanned skin, a pale pink scar catches your eye, not very noticeable from your previous distance, but definitely perceptible when you observe his body long enough.

“Minho,” you coo, running your hand along the scar and tracing it with your fingertips. “You’re beautiful,” you say to him after a moment, smiling up at him sincerely.

Minho’s heart almost stops in its place, overwhelmed with his emotions for you, to be here with you, the desire to make love to you eating away at his mind like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

And if it is, he’d die a happy man.

His lips crash against yours again, hands snaking down to your jeans, where he unbuttons them, your hands meeting his to help pull them down. While you take over, he unbuckles his belt, snaking the leather out from around his waist and undoing his buttons. It’s then that he pushes you gently against the bed, hoisting your legs up so that you’re at a comfortable angle, finally propping himself above you and working kisses down your neck. He nibbles your flesh between his teeth the way he did before, beginning to work purple bruises around your throat. And you let him, without protest, because you’re desperate for a reminder that he’s here, that he’s yours. Minho smiles against your neck when he feels you moan softly at the sensation, satisfied with the way you melt at his touch.

“Minho,” you call, and he brings his lips to press a chaste kiss to yours again.

“What is it, baby?” He coos gently, pressing a series of kisses to your lips before you speak again.

“I never should have left,” you reply, toying with a strand of his hair around your fingers in a pleading manner. Your chest is heavy with guilt, tears almost pricking at your eyes as he looms over you like this.

He chuckles softly, kissing you for a moment before grazing his lips over yours again, speaking just above a whisper.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m right where you left me.”

And it’s your turn to kiss him, crashing your lips against his again as tears fall from the corners of your eyes. Minho takes notice when the salty taste of them dance along his tongue, kissing them back up your face and holding you a little closer to him. His hands wrap around the small of your back to find the clasp of your bra, skillfully undoing it with one hand and pulling away from you to discard it on the floor. It’s Minho’s turn to stare, running one hand down your clavicles until he’s grazing your nipples with his fingers.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat with anticipation, before he finally dips his middle finger down over one of your hardened nipples, earning a stifled gasp from you. He works little circles over your nipple with one finger, the gentle stimulation making you gasp into his mouth as he kisses you again.

And then he moves back to your neck, kissing over the bruises he sucked into your flesh, trailing lower and lower until he’s just above your breasts. You look down at him with bated breath, almost clenching at the way his lips exhale little breaths against your nipples, making them even harder. With his eyes on yours, he finally lowers himself, latching both lips around your breast and sucking.

Your back arches up into him instinctively, the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sending divine shivers up your spine. In a sudden motion, his tongue swirls around your bud, the cold sensation causing you to moan fervently. He smiles with your flesh between his teeth, while your hands tangle themselves in his hair and massage him encouragingly.

It feels so primal, so natural to have his mouth all over you, your legs pressing together to calm the ache between your legs. He takes his time on one breast, only coming up to press a kiss in the valley of your breasts and then moving to give attention to the other one. You could stay here for hours, like this, if it wasn’t for the pulsing reminder in your groin that you want to feel him inside of you.

“Please,” you say gently, pressing your legs together and squeezing in efforts to relieve yourself.

Minho chuckles softly, letting go from your nipple with a gentle sucking sound, a string of spit hanging from his lips as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

“I want to feel you inside me again,” you admit shyly, tenderly running your nails along the back of his neck. Minho’s lips meet yours again, and his hands quickly find their way to the hem of your underwear, sliding them down and pulling away to discard them on the floor.

He’s promptly reminded of how needy and vocal you are, smiling down at you as you pull his face back to yours and swirl your tongue around his. But truth be told, he’s just as needy as you are, equally reminded of how much he’s touched himself to the thought of this and secretly prayed he’d be able to make love to you again. And now here, his lips on yours, it’s finally happening, his rock-hard erection proof that it’s always been you.

As you arch up into him, one leg wrapping around his to push him even closer against you, your hand snakes down to his erection, palming him through his boxers. Minho groans at the contact, his lips parting a little as he winces in pleasure.

“You’re so hard,” you say with a smile, pleased at his evidently equal desperation for you.

“All for you,” Minho replies, running one hand down your stomach to rub little circles on your clit, causing you to moan in pleasure.

“Ah- fuck,” you breathe out, contorting against him, desperate for him to fill you up. “Please, Minho, want to feel you inside me,” you pant against him, pleading for the second time now.

He remains like that for a moment, working little circles onto your clit as he observes the way your eyebrows arch up in pleasure.

“Want me to fill you up?” He asks, cocking his head with yours as you grasp his forearm.

“Yes, please,” you reply, trying your best to stave off your orgasm until he’s inside of you.

And without teasing you any further, Minho pulls away from you to slide off his boxers, his cock springing up against his abdomen in anticipation for you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, in awe at the sight as he tosses his boxers aside and leans down to kiss you again.

“Lay down,” Minho orders sweetly, and you do as you’re told, exhaling once to calm your steadily beating pulse.

“Is this still okay?” Minho asks, caressing your shoulder with concern as you wait for his next move.

“Yes,” you say, giving a half smile to him when he rubs his thumb along your cheek lovingly. He smiles back at you, giving one small peck to your lips before hoisting himself up and wrapping one hand around his cock.

You watch as Minho wraps his slender fingers around the base of his cock, pumping a few times before leaning down to kiss you tenderly. The sensation causes him to breathe a few gasps into your mouth, Minho also trying his best to stave his release until he’s inside of you.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?” He asks, breaking away to part your thighs. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you don’t- not when you’re this wet for him, this desperate to finally feel him fill you up again, like you’ve fantasized for so long.

A strand of his hair falls into his face as he finally guides his cock inside of you, rubbing your clit as he thrusts in fully and bottoms out. You gasp at his size, almost having forgotten just how thick he is, the stretch making your head spin with pleasure. When he gauges your reaction, he begins to move with you slowly, giving gentle thrusts while you wrap your arms around his back.

The bed creaks as he moves in and out of your sopping pussy, emitting lewd sloshing sounds as he leans down to kiss you, your tongues and mouths doing much of the same. You can hardly kiss him back, your lips already dribbling strings of drool in fucked-out satisfaction from him filling you up like this.

“Fuck… baby… you’re so tight,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Feels so good,” you breathe back, gripping his shoulder a little bit when he picks up his pace. “No one fucks me the way you do,” you say to him, and his cock twitches inside of you at the admission.

“Fuck,” Minho says again. “I dreamt of you for so long,”

“Me too,” you say, reaching up to move a stray piece of hair out from in front of his eyes between your heavy breathing. “I wish I came looking for you again. God, I wasted so much time.”

Minho kisses you, burying his lips in the crook of your neck to caress the bruises he’s already left.

“I never stopped searching for you,” he breathes out against your skin. “It’s you, it’s always been you.”

His words make your heart flutter as he continues to thrust in and out of you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust now. Your moans get louder as he picks up the pace, digging his nails into your waist as he holds you in place. Between kisses, he caresses your thigh with his hand, positioning it up and bending your leg at the knee beside him. You moan instantly at the new angle, his length caressing every inch of your pussy, his girth stretching you out with every thrust inside of you and tickling your pulsing clit as he moves against your hips.

“Good girl,” Minho says, smiling against you as he kisses you. “Take me so well.”

Your nails dig into his back as he thrusts a little faster now, the rhythmic motion sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m close,” you breathe out, and judging by the way Minho’s cock twitches inside of you, he is too.

“Will you do that thing again?” You ask in a shaky voice between moans, and Minho lets out a breathy chuckle.

“What thing, baby?”

But he knows very well what you’re referring to, having replayed it in his head every time he got off without you. You don’t respond to him, instead intertwining his hand in yours and bringing it down to your abdomen, where you sprawl his palm across your navel and give it a little push. Minho groans at the feeling of your warm abdomen under his palm, remembering the way you reacted last time. And he’s eager to please you, to do it exactly how you liked it before.

Without teasing you any further, Minho presses down on your stomach, observing the way you moan when he does, and then thrusts a little faster. He can feel his length sliding in and out of you under his touch, locking his gaze on the bulge in your abdomen that appears with every thrust.

“Min, I’m so close,” you say, gasping desperately and digging your nails into his back.

He presses down a little harder, burying his face in the crook of your neck and moving even faster, moaning every time he can feel himself move against your abdomen.

And as he brings his lips up to meet yours, you finally let go around him, making a mess of your sheets as you cum around his cock, your clit pulsing in syncopation with your entrance as he fucks you through your orgasm. Minho finishes just seconds after, emptying his milky white release inside of you, both your juices spilling into each other and coating the bed in your arousal. He doesn’t pull out immediately, slowing his thrusts for a few minutes as he kisses you much gentler this time, your lips still glistening with the exchange of saliva.

When he feels you shiver against him, Minho finally slides out, turning over to lay on his back and catch his breath. The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and wiping beads of sweat off your forehead as you do. After a moment of silence, he turns to you again, a worried expression on his face.

“I promise I didn’t come here to have sex with you,” Minho says. “I wasn’t lying about wanting to tell you all about it. I guess I just happened to-”

“Min, I know,” you say with a small smile. “I didn’t think that’s why you came here.”

He lets out a silent chuckle, and you mirror the action, smiling back at him before laughing silently. The two of you remain sore and wearied, your languid bodies a comfortable distance away from each other on the soiled duvet.

Still, Minho extends a hand out from beside you, palm facing up and shifting his gaze onto yours out of his peripheral vision.

Your hand meets his, intertwining your fingers together, the delicate embrace a reminder that he’s here, right where you left him.

*

“Can’t you just stay another week?” you say to Minho, leaning down to press another kiss to his already swollen lips.

You lie on top of him as he lays back on your couch, his hands tucking strands of hair behind your ear as he smiles up at you.

“It’s just for a little bit, I promise. I just have some unfinished business out there.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” you say in a whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your fingertip.

“You won’t lose me,” Minho replies, his tone turning serious at your words. “You’ll never lose me.”

“What am I going to do without you?” You ask him, feeling yourself grow increasingly more panicked at the thought of being away from him again. You’ve spent the better part of three months searching for each other, desperate for some closure to this fleeting thing- and now he’s leaving, and you can’t help but feel like you’re doing something wrong by letting him leave like this.

“You’re going to be the woman you always have been,” Minho says with a smile, stroking your hair gently. “You’re going to work your job, and fix things and be absolutely remarkable wherever you go. And I’m going to finalize a few things out there and then meet you right back here in the city. And we’ll lie on this couch, and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”

You smile at him through pricking tears, feeling them begin to fall as he reaches a thumb up to wipe them off your cheek.

“Hey,” Minho says to you reassuringly. “You know- I was thinking a lot about the bar.”

You nod at him, trying to hold back the rest of your tears as he speaks.

“We have contract negotiations coming up next month. And I was thinking of… maybe…handing it off to Jeongin.”

You sit up a little, eyes widening at his words.

“Complete ownership? But you love that bar, Min.”

He shrugs a little, blinking a few times as he pauses.

“I want to cook. And I think being out here made me realize I need a change of pace again.”

“You mean like… moving out here? To the city?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, throwing his head back a little before meeting your gaze again.

“Maybe. Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

You chuckle too now, cupping his face in your hands as you sit up to look at him.

“You know,” you begin, thinking for a second before continuing to speak. “This really cool bartender told me once that sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again.”

His lips flicker down to your smile and back up to your eyes as you speak, a visible sparkle in your pupils as you look down at him. “Whatever you decide to do back there, I’m here with you when you go forward again. As a bartender, or a chef, or whatever you decide. I’ll be right where you left me.”

And he doesn’t have to ask you twice, knowing in his heart, you’re already here with him- every step of the way.

*

Minho leaves bright and early that morning, grasping your hand firmly in his as you make your way down the concrete steps of your apartment building to where his car is parked.

He looks more angelic than you’ve ever seen him, his smile illuminating the space around you as he holds you in his gentle embrace on the sidewalk. The two of you say nothing, only speaking through the tender touches of your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, face tucked in the crook of his neck as he holds you. He presses kisses to the top of your head, reminding you through hushed whispers that he’ll be back as soon as possible. And you know he will, feeling completely enveloped in his loving trust as he holds you, as he promises not to lose you again.

When he pulls away to look into your eyes, tears prick at the corners of your eyes for the third time this morning, and Minho chuckles lightly, reaching up to wipe them away with his thumb.

Before he can say anything, he feels it, finally.

The gentle caress of droplets on his face- not your tears, not his, but the sky above, showering you with little raindrops for the first time in three months and some days.

At first, Minho thinks he might be hallucinating it, when he looks up to squint his eyes back at the cloudy sky. You do the same, feeling the familiar kiss of raindrops on your skin. And then, as if the sky’s taking notice, it begins to pour, warm rain showering you both in the hazy atmosphere of the city sidewalk.

Minho laughs up at the sky, shaking his now damp hair as he looks down at you again. All this time he’s waited for the rain, thinking maybe he’d imagined it that night in the bar- the same night he ran into you. But as the raindrops graze his skin and glisten under the light of the city, he realizes it was very much real, as are you, standing right here in his arms. And like everything falls into place, so does the rain over the city, washing away the doubts he held onto for so long.

“It’s finally raining!” Minho exclaims, holding you closer to him as he tilts his face up to the sky again.

You watch him in admiration, laughing at the way he embraces the sudden downpour, also remembering the first night you met him because of the storm like this.

The city-dwellers around you begin to seek shelter under the cement roofs of the high rises, but you remain there on the sidewalk, warm in each other's embraces, content with the sudden turn of the weather. When he looks back down at you, his hair is now completely soaked, stringy pieces falling into his face as he continues to laugh.

“Minho,” you say through gentle laughter of your own. The rain comes down violently now, drenching the two of you as he holds you closer to him.

“Where have you been all my life?”

And he smiles down at you, the familiar beam of his giggle instilling the same safety and comfort as the first night you met in his bar.

“Right here,” Minho replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

“I’ve always been here.”

This time, you make no effort to escape the rain, comfortable in the way it looms over the city, much like how Minho looms over you- fortuitous, and with promises of new beginnings.

#skz smut #Lee know #Lee know smut #Lee know fic #stray kids hard hours #skz #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #Lee minho #lee know scenarios #Lee know x reader #fanfic #smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #Spotify

[valen-nidk]

Proposals. | Hazbin Hotel characters.

Content: Proposing horribly or in the most awkward situations featuring Rosie, Husk, Velvette and Valentino.

c.w.: cannibalism.

Rosie had invited you over for dinner which wouldn't be strange, though this time uhm... there was a corpse on the table as part of the menu. Normally, she'd take into consideration your diet and avoid showing you something so distasteful but it was evident that she was angry as she took a bite of the flesh from its arm and tore it with her sharp teeth, ripping the skin and causing blood to splatter onto the table, her plate and even her clothes. You reached for a glass of water as Rosie spoke, "this one was a rather persistant suitor of mine, he could not simply understand I did not reciprocate his feelings and I did not want his courtship", your eyes darted down to the, still nameless, body that was bloodier than before and cleared your throat. "You know, dear, we should get married as soon as possible to avoid future situations like this".

c.w.: descriptive vomiting.

Husk wasn't proud that he had relapsed into his alcoholism this badly, kneeling on the bathroom floor while you rubbed soothing circles in between his wings yet that's his reality now. The vile feeling of yesterday's contents resting on his tongue, bits of poorly stomached and varely digested solids remained there, as well as the disgusting stomach acid traveling all the way upwards and outside his mouth, his eyes teary in disgust, humilliation and misery. Nonetheless, during a small break in which he had ceased puking, still lightheaded, his blurry sight tried to focus on your figure as he offered a pathetic smile. "Marriage said somethin' 'bout health 'n sickness, right? 'm lookin' forward to take care of ya', I'll be there too". Shortly after that, he went back to gripping the toilet seat edges as he puked, the acidic smell burning his nostrils.

c.w.: sexual harassment.

Velvette was aggressively typing away on her phone, before slamming it down on the table and abruptly standing up, she looked uncharacterisically flustered and caught the attention of everyone in the meeting — she slammed the exit door behind her, and made her way towards Valentino's studio and yelled at the top of her lungs, interrupting the recording of the video as she yanked random cables to provoke more damage. "Oi, you goddamn pissboy! How dare you have my goddamn spouse in this filthy studio of yours?!". Apparently, you were upgraded from their lover to spouse, not even fiance. You were here against your will, and only managed to escape one of the porn actors grasp when Velvette started to wreck Valentino's studio.

c.w.: r18, sex, bellybulge, possessive behavior, unhealthy.

Valentino wasn't someone that considered marriage until meeting you, he wasn't into monogamy (and still wasn't) but the thought of you getting together with someone else drove him insane with blinding jealously. As he was currently balls deep inside of your weeping hole, his lower set of arms making your body rise up and down to keep fucking you, reshaping your insides to his cock that made a bulge show in your belly, he uttered the following words "marry me, amor mío", he whispered in a possessive manner against the nape of your neck before bitting down, sucking and leaving a hickey that'd be impossible to hide.

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #husk x reader #rosie x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader

[onyourhyuck]

GOLDEN HOUR. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Excuse me waiter?”

— Summary: You’re a waiter and Mark Lee the local biker and infamous bad boy loves the eggs your diner makes, but now he wants a taste of you.

— Genre: Smut, smut smut. Minors DNI. Badboy biker!marklee. Waiter!y/n. Lots of degrading terms as well as praising (we lot a degradation + praise moment) Public sex. Literally they do it on his freaking BIKE. Hairpulling. Teasing. Y/n is a big fucking tease. Playful banter. Enemies to ???. Y/n is made to humble Mark Lee. Mark calls Y/n Good girl. Y/n has a hand kink. Mentions of rings/jewellery. Mark is a massive ass guy here. Groping. Spitting on her ass. Ass play. Male receiving head. Mark literally grabs y/n’s face and made her to submission.

— Notes: Mark’s song Golden Hour inspired me by this…. I will write an apology for this filth you’re about to witness.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are a hard working woman, you love your work. You believe nothing comes easy in life so it’s useful to have hard shell around you to protect you from all sorts of evil this world has to offer. You don’t have the patience or the time to be wasting on useless things that do not serve you, your mind has always been set on this certain job you’ve been working on for a year nearly. You ended up loving it so much.

At first you weren’t sure if this job was the path you wanted to take but now you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You couldn’t careless if this job wasn’t going to pay you more than you needed in the next following years because as long as you are happy enjoying it; you thought screw it. This job may seem like a temporary waste but to you it was a long term source of your happiness and so many memories.

You’ve met good customers, some customers weren’t just as pleasant but nonetheless everyone you meet in this diner was a blessing in disguise.

Your coworkers were as equally happy to have you join them and light up this diner making it your own home. They wouldn’t change it for the world, you formed bonds no one could ever replace in your heart. To the point your boss was kind enough to promote you to head waitress diner and have made arrangements to have your own personal keys to the diner. So everytime you have yourself a night shift you can close down anytime you are done.

Your colleagues were glad to have you around the diner because without you many of them wouldn’t be able to get out there. Once a coworker you know couldn’t make it to the shift because of their blind date, you without any consideration stepped up and said you will take it. No matter how busy you are the diner comes first to you.

On this day you were opening the diner letting the customers in view come inside. It wasn’t busy and it was rather quiet in the morning. You couldn’t really tell what it was you’re feeling when it’s just you in the diner. No one else arrived and you were the first one.

You brush the broom on the floor sweeping the marble flooring the large diner owns, you hum a longing melody to yourself quietly as the empty diner leaves you waiting for anyone to come in, anticipating your colleagues and more. But the moment the front bell rang on the door making you swing your back straight to look at the front a gang of bikers pull up at the front entrance with their roaring lioness engines.

Wearing black and leather made up of straight skinned people, bandanas on the hairline or the beads — some wearing boots so heavy it made your own body shudder by the weight they are pulling on the feet itself. Streak of blonde hair entering the restaurant, wearing a brown leather jacket, a loose cast white shirt, the hair ruffled up and styled so lavishly it made him reek of trouble. You could smell it from miles away and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant fried egg smell it was a rotten roast of trouble smoking behind the young man.

It’s as if everything in the diner went dark and more silence came out than before even though it was only you in that diner. Somehow his company made you even more stunned. You don’t remember seeing him round here often enough because you remember everyone of your customers. You try to at least, and you’re more than sure that this man who strut in to your diner you’d remember a face like his.

Putting the broomstick on the wall you wipe your hands on the diner apron you have wore everyday your shift starts. Walking over to the table where that young blonde man with his obvious dyed hair and piercing cold eyes sat. Holding the menu in his hands you reopen you small notepad and take out an ink black pen.

You smile out. “Hello sir what will you be having today?” You say as if you weren’t saying this to everyone in your shift.

The young man hums out looking at you. “I have not decided just yet.” He was rather picky on which egg he wants today. You see, Mark loves his eggs a certain way. They have to be perfect and matching to the needs and cravings he has for a certain period of time. Unlike in your sight.

You tap your feet on the ground slightly staring him down after twenty minutes standing there. Mark kept his fingers gracing them on the menu at each egg point still not able to pick a damn meal. You slit your teeth together.

His fingers raided with diamond rings on them blink to the reflection of the light coming out the diner window could blind your almond doeish eyes. The way his hands were taking their dear sweet time reading every word, you couldn’t help but observe the size of his fingers and the beautiful flashy rings; you hated how your thoughts got unholy the moment his eyes saw your intense gaze at his fingers but he didn’t mention it. You wait at the counter staring him down into disbelief.

‘God I hope he didn’t see me staring at his hands.’ You wanted to mentally pray he didn’t. You told yourself to pretend like nothing has happened.

You’re back to being filled with annoyance to see more minutes passing by and the customer up front not choosing yet.

You love this job, okay, you really do. But you hate indecisive customers the fucking most.

‘Just pick something everything is eggs. What’s so hard about picking an egg.’ You wanted to scream to him, scream and tell him to get on with it. Eggs are eggs. They’re not much different to taste until you pick the seasonings.

“Are you here to eat or are you here to piss around causing trouble here?” You seethe gently trying to come out as passive aggressive. You don’t want to be rude but this boy was really tearing your patience apart from you. I mean, look at Mark. The young man came out lavish dressed just to look down at the diner menu and not pick a single thing over the next thirty minutes.

Mark flaunts at you with a wide smirk. “I dunno that depends on your answer.”

Your eyebrows rose up confused together, arching down like an innocent aisle. He couldn’t lie but he loved the way your reactions were so easy to read, he could tell he was annoying you and that’s exactly what he wanted to do. You cross your arms questioning that he might of came here with a higher purpose than to just eat eggs at your diner.

“What are you on about?” You ask out loud.

“What’s your name sweet lips?” Mark’s words echo right at you like a radioactive bomb flaming your skin open melting it like it were pure wax. You stare impatiently, clenching your jaw together. “It’s Y/n.”

Until you calm down your nerves you loosen up and reply unbothered, or you pretend to be. You won’t give him the attention. It’s clear he was flirting his way into your head and you can’t get away from it without putting on a professional fake smile. “Call me when you’re ready to eat.” You turn around walking away to clean more of the diner.

Mark’s eyes land on your back and down to your ass in that uniform the diner made all the coworkers dress in. He slants in the chair whistling as his eyes land on your legs, the thighs that touch each other, he loves seeing the way your thighs were both thick and soft looking. It reminds him of bedsheets in a way with how soft looking and clean they look. And your ass, don’t forget the way he could see it peeking out of that skirt. It was hard not to check you out. Actually it would be rude not to check you out, you look amazing. Your face card never declined in fact Mark saw you round the diner before but he never came to eat at this place he only saw you from afar. But everytime his biker gang and him rode in the street outside the diner, the boys mention you.

They speak often about you. It made him curious why they are talking so much about a young girl who’s just a simple diner girl, but now it all makes sense why they are talking. Why they’re discussing you of all people.

You were strong headed, professional, you were clearly smart enough not to fall for his lousy flirting skills he has to work on. But not only that it’s the way you were physically looking like straight out of a movie. Your body was indescribable. The way clothes made Mark frustrated on you, he never hated clothes so much before until now.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things but he was and unfortunately it was all your fault because you saw him checking you out in the corner of your eye, you knew and you saw it, it just left you smirking behind that innocent professional mask face you have on. In reality you were equally peeking interest at Mark when you saw a glimpse of his eyes stare at your ass.

But you didn’t want to show it. Of course you did not this is your workplace. You wouldn’t want someone as arrogant as Mark Lee to have the thing he wants so easily.

For once Mark looks like he actually wants something that is not eggs. He wants you.

“Excuse me waiter?”

Midway your work duties you hear the young man calling you over and you finally reach him with your impatient gaze. He loved seeing you worked up hearing him call you and somehow it made him want to sing to you. He looks up pushing the menu down. “Sunny side up.” Mark quotes proudly.

“Make the yolk in the middle right. I like it half cooked.”

‘God just make it yourself then.’ You wanted to say to him. Usually you’d be happy with suggestions, but not when a guy like Mark trouts in like he owns the freaking place.

You wanted to roll your eyes and tell him ‘Well now that wasn’t so hard was it to choose off the menu?’ But you hold your tongue tight and write it down. You gaze up at him.

“Do you want any drink with that? Toast?” You trail and Mark smirks leaning forward. “Is your number perhaps on those lists to serve?”

Your heart might escape your chest if he keeps on pestering you with his flirtatious tactics, you aren’t sure what you can and cannot handle but this beautiful man was a creature you couldn’t tame. Oh no, he was a wild one.

Your lips fell in a thin line. Your feet move forward and lean down in a ninety degree angle to grab the menu off his table with a slam to your palm. Mark’s eyes land down to your eyes, then to your beautiful pink chapped lips with a soft lipgloss glowingly and then his infatuated eyes land on the cleavage of your uniform.

His stare was so hungry. But something tells you it wasn’t for the eggs.

“One more flirtation and i will personally charge you more on your meal.” You threat.

He smiles, delusion all the way. “Was that a threat or a dare?” He couldn’t take you anymore seriously, but the way you push him back. He somehow knew you wanted him too.

You walk away scoffing. “Fuck around and find out. The more money for me.” You shrug going to the counter to prepare the food.

The sizzling from where you stand handling the heat was an impressive sight to say the least, Mark couldn’t make eggs, but he loves eating them. Despite not being able to make them it’s okay, because he never goes hungry thanks you and your diner. It was cheap and affordable for a high quality egg food you could munch on any time of the day and week. Somehow he never gets tired of it.

But what he was curious about was you. When you prepared the egg he saw you walk with his plate putting it on the table. But as you walk away and he starts to dig into the food, something underneath the plate moved and he flipped it open lifting it up. As the plate was lifting in the air a small white paper note curled up was found.

The plate was on the side and Mark slowly reveals it curiously wondering what was this, but as he did all the things he could’ve imagined were incorrect. Your handwriting struck him and it gave him a lingering hope.

The paper said your number, underneath a little message making Mark want to laugh.

‘You’re paying extra five on your order for my number :)’

He turns to look at you in front of the cashier station but you were already staring at him looking so smug. Your smile increased widely and his did too. ‘So you were interested, you just didn’t want me to know. God, you’re interesting.’ Mark practically vows. You’re unpredictable but you were something he wants to know.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The afternoon hits you and your coworkers trade the shifts. Your work has just ended but the moment it did one of your colleagues asked to to take her night shift.

You should have said no but you did not and instead you stayed behind watching everyone leave. Your boss told you to close up and you nodded bidding goodbye to them.

Now you’re alone and it’s getting darker outside. In fact it’s already quite pitch black and the stars are coming out alive and well.

You turn to the clock seeing the customer timings going by and closing so you walk to the door to turn the customer open board around to ‘closing hours now’ but the moment you did a hand on the door makes you jump.

He saw you scream holding your mouth but the moment realistically seeing Mark outside asking you to open the door made you feel slightly uneasy but you were glad to see the boy at the same time.

‘Geez he didn’t have to appear in like that.’ You swore he’s the death of you.

You felt embarrassed for becoming so jumpy. You open the door and Mark walks in. “Did i scare you out there?” Mark chuckles and you look away murmuring.

“I thought you were someone trying to break in.” You roll your eyes. “You never know what can happen in these areas.”

Mark follows you from behind as you welcome him into the empty diner leaving only you two. “Ay you won’t have to worry about that Y/n my darling, no one will break in with me here.”

Mark couldn’t help but check down your ass again as you turn around walking from the door. His playful voice carries in the distance of the diner like a tracking star. “Did anyone tell you that the diner uniform is hot on you?”

“You make me barf, Lee.” You scowl.

“You make me wanna do bad things Y/n.” He copies you.

‘He’s so childish.’ You state in disbelief.

“Do you always come in to bother me when no one else is around?” You sigh putting the cloth away on the counter and his torso leans on the cashier counter. He saw you behind leaning down with a righteous smirk.

“You haven’t kicked me out yet I must be doing something right here.” Mark really knows how to trick your buttons.

You clench your hands huffing. “The only thing you make me wanna do is wish i haven’t seen you tonight.”

Mark whistles. “God you’re so mean.”

You glare. “If you think I’m mean wait until you hear my thoughts.” You sent through your teeth at Mark and he smirks, no matter how much arguments you guys go through they tend to always end on a different note with him smiling and you becoming grumpy.

The conversation ended only to begin when the younger boy was busy watching you do your night shift duties. You were almost glad he was here in a way, it does her creepy at night when you’re the only worker here and only one person is closing down. It can get lonely and way too quiet for your liking. Mark is the perfect guy to keep around if you need a person who doesn’t know how to shut up.

He playfully adds. “I wanted to see you because i was nearby.”

You couldn’t believe him sometimes, but a small part of you wishes it was the truth coming out his mouth. Somehow this boy you only met this morning annoyed you, but he was damnly devilishly handsome no doubt attractive and he somehow got your number too.

You look down breaking away your hold eye contact, clearing your throat as you felt a sudden butterfly coming up your lips all the way from your stomach. “Don’t lie. You came here to annoy me isn’t that right. The Mark Lee i know only does it in for himself.”

He tilts his head grabbing a hold of your hand. “Well why don’t you come and get to know the real Mark Lee, Y/n?”

You twist your head at your hands touching it made your skin crawl eloquently as so calmly like the sea. Your eyes slowly began to walk towards his face. When mark saw your attention on him again, he spoke, even though your silence was deeply inside finishing him he wanted to try.

“What’s the real Mark Lee like?”

“I think you and the real Mark Lee, would get along quite well.”

Mark’s eyes look so pure in that moment you felt your heart pull on the heartstrings and you happen to find yourself choosing to be and go.

To try to persuade you to come with him. It made you think that maybe it’s not a bad idea to get to know Mark.

“How about we go see the Golden Hour together after your night shift ends?” Mark asked you,

And to his luck you were pretty convinced. Mark’s hands were attaching to yours, like a lock to a key. It felt right being held in his hands.

“Okay, take me with you.”

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On this night the natural black hugs the stars as a diner closes ending its peace and heading to sleep but only leaving to souls to find each other awake. You couldn’t help but dangle the keys to the diner, closing the door, making sure everything was perfect before you leave with Mark. The boy was patiently waiting for you in the front of the motor bicycle; his bike was an all black with two black helmets on the side in his two palms. He was watching you in that cute little diner uniform with heart eyes but you didn’t notice. You were too busy.

When you were satisfied you turn around and saw Mark smiling you down. You raise your eyebrows suspiciously, blurting out.

“What?” Your breathe was let out, approaching the bike now. Your eyes widen when the size of it was revealed and you can’t believe you’re going to be riding this now.

Mark turns around humming. “Oh nothing. This is yours.” He puts down his helmet and holding yours going towards you. You were stunned for a minute when two pair of hands put on the helmet for you on your head.

It felt like kindness has infected his pure heart with the love that you weren’t aware of yet. Mark freaking Lee was putting the helmet, strapping it down on your head without asking him to. At this point you weren’t sure what to say but his eyes saw your throat clench in surprise and your eyes widen a little on the front. He was up close with your heads nearing each other like cannon rounds because he wanted to strap the ends under the chin.

You murmur. “I could’ve done it myself you know…” mark looks up at you directly. “I know, I just wanted to do it for you.” He smiled and you saw him pull away like it was nothing.

He was the ace at everything. Mark lee had everything he could ever want but what he didn’t want before changed the minute he’s met you and now you’re everything he wants, needs and could possibly ask for for. You were someone he could speak to all day and feel as if you weren’t judging him you were listening instead on repeat. You don’t even have to talk because he could do the talking; instead you Will be listening to him with those beautiful robes your eyes provide and he will be happy. He wishes to see you smile again, and he’s going through changes he never expected from your presence. Such as helping you put the helmet on.

You approach the bike getting on. The helmet he has on covers most of his face but his voice was still the sameness kindness that attacks your hard solid heart you guard your heart with.

Mark looks down at his waist where he needed to see your hands and your hands were clinging on the leather jacket. Your hands were tempted to hold him there but your thoughts intervened making you pause and in panic you couldn’t bring yourself to hold him there.

“Hold me tight Y/n.” He says.

You were shy. “W…where? I am holding you tight.”

He chuckles a little bit wasn’t expecting it that your fingertips touching was considered ‘holding tight’ but nonetheless he pulled your wrists from behind suddenly and making you lean your chest on his back enough so your arms were wrapped on his waist like two red ribbons making a single knot together.

“No wrap it like this Y/n. Okay?” He softly spoke out and you couldn’t even comprehend the words were made with intention to have you safe.

You wondered if it just you or if it’s many people who see this side of him where Mark doesn’t have to keep an image around like a toy with a job constantly. Where he could just be Mark Lee. You wonder thinking perhaps not, because a guy like Mark Lee was trying to keep up to his reputation but around you it was getting no where near to impossible.

Your chin rests on his shoulders and the engine roars like a wild animal awakening. It terrified you but normally you would never get on this thing in your life, but now you’re not normal. You’re hanging out with Mark the guy who walked into your diner in the morning, made you annoyed but you found relatively attractive, ended up successfully getting your number and on a good note he waited for your night shift to take you somewhere else.

The man rumbled in the iron horse between his legs, and the miles sped away beneath its black wheels. He grinned despite himself through the shiny all jet black helmet as the wind whipped about it, and gave an unconscious squeeze to the lever on the great y-shaped rudder, coaxing yet more power from the magnificent machine. Ahead, in the distance, she spied the spires of the road, leaving the diner. Give him nothing but a straight up motorbike ride down the road right down to the sea, with a beautiful girl like you on it holding him tight because he could sense how terrifying it must be until the sight of the ocean hits your eyes you start to see the beauty of riding a rising bike everywhere, and he would ask for nothing more in this life or the next.

You see it was scary at first. Doing something completely new but you found yourself falling in love with how the nightfall beach looks like as the young man driving the bike slowly because he wanted to have you see it for longer. Or the beautiful breeze hitting your legs exposed and vast bits of your neck because your long hair was exposed to the wind flowing it back like a flag of a nation you’d be proud of. You felt surreal and it started to show that perhaps the driver riding you wasn’t a bad person but made up by your poor misjudgement instead. Your pride rather and he was simply an okay guy — actually not even an okay guy. He was just a straight up sweet guy underneath those needless reputation and hard tough persona. It made you conflicted at first before but now you’re convinced. That you might believe Mark’s got a side you haven’t met yet.

But that’s the story to living your life. You have to explore a new thing to be able to know if you like it or not and I guess it applies to Mark and You. You squeeze your arms round his waist and suddenly rest your head on his back as you listen to the quiet earth where everyone was asleep but you and Mark — listening to the wind that the wind blows from the front and you swore you could sleep to this tranquil silence and feeling.

He seethes out a smile feeling the arms tighten and he was happening to feeling a sense of proudness in him as he could make you enjoy this. From a severe anxious young waitress to a young woman enjoying the experience he couldn’t of been more happier than this. Than live in the moment with you.

He never lets anyone ride the motorcycle with him and you were the first woman and person itself to be able to go on. Even though he denies everyone he lets and offered you to go on. Even the previous woman he shown slight attention to in the past never had the chance because he flat out rejected the idea of anyone being on this thing. It was a precious item he holds dear to his heart and something within him accepted you to get on.

Treading to the secret location you’ve been waiting to know about you pull up to a mountain cliff sight area where the bike stops on the shoreline of the mountain. Not off the edge but close enough leaving you and Mark on the bike sitting at around five am. Mark lee was one of a kind man and when you tell yourself the view didn’t leave you gaping it left you gasping instead.

It was beyond anything you’ve ever seen. It was a whole different view of the city and you could see everything all at once. The glimpse of the beach was there in sight, the diner was somewhere around there, you could see the apartment blocks nearby which is where you live too. You were so far but everything you love dear to your heart was close in your eyes. All at once too. Mark truly knew this place would be the perfect fit for your bonding experience, or rather he would claim it as a date doing nothing but chatting with you.

Your helmets were off and he saw your moving gaze lovingly watching the beautiful scene. He smiles your arms never left his waist until you unlock them to get up and takes a closer look.

“Mark… when did you find this place. It’s beautiful. It’s anything I’ve ever wanted to see before.” Your voice itself was hyperbolic and hypnotising. You look thrilled and it was benevolently beautiful loudly.

He follows you standing on the edge of his bike and wrapping the helmets on the sides of the wheel where they hang. “Once I was driving one night and I happen to see this. I often come here when i can’t sleep so i go for a ride and come here.”

You turn around with crystal like eyes, they looked like pure gemstones with how shiny they are and even in the pure darkness they glow.

“Thank you. It’s very sweet of you to share this view with me.” You sigh out and let your arms roam the free air twirling around.

Mark grins out. “Any time. You’re the first person ever I’ve shown this too. So keep this a secret between us.” He told you. “I’d like it to be only you who knows of this place with me.”

The moment he said this your cheeks grew a little red and turning round to meet eyes with his personally grew stronger. There was a define element of possession here and you couldn’t help but let out a strain laugh hearing him.

You come forward slowly. “How come you’re so… nice to me? I mean how can i ever repay you for this. We only just met but you’re quite an enigma. You keep surprising me with your new sides.” Your voice trails softly easing your thoughts when his hands wrapped round your waist pulling you closer and seemingly you didn’t back or make any complaint you just stayed and following his strong hands where they push you in on his body closing your large gap that was punishing him by making you so far away.

His deep voice I’ve craved to answer me had a way of igniting my internal engine, just like he would light up a motorbike as if it knew I wanted to ride with him before I had a chance to process. “I don’t know I guess i… like you enough to say that I’d be raw and real with you.” He sounds husky and hoarse looking down with a dark half eye lid gaze. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe the tension between you was a sign call for help.

“How many have you been raw and real with like this?”

“None.” He quickly said. “Just you.” He told you softly It was the kind of deep voice that is so very easy to fall in love with, it was like a perfect harmony between cooking you have.

“You’re someone who’s… a first to my everything. My bike is off limits for everyone except me but here we are. You were sitting on my bike so nicely with that…” your ass was squeezed surprisingly you by that gentle yet hidden pleasing laying grope on your back.

Your face grew red but he knew that. It’s exactly why he did it and smirking down at you, you felt yourself feeling small and cautiously exposed but in a way you found butterflies in it.

He needed you just as bad and now you’re here needing him. He was real with you and that’s what made you shudder when you feel your heart escape your chest so much. All because of him and everything he does was a terror of attractiveness. He was breathing and you found his breathe even more beautiful. He was just there standing and breathing looking you up and down with an intense stare.

And you’re here trying to figure out what and how was this man created into existence. He felt like something you knew for years and years in your head and at the same time something you’ve never known in your life for years and years until now.

“Are you always this…” you stop talking and stare down at his lips. “Never mind… kiss me please… I’m going insane.” You held your teeth together for a minute until he was glad to hear you consent because God knew, he couldn’t stop you from kissing once he began tasting your lips.

It was a very easy decision to make when Mark saw the offer you made him, your lips crash on top of each other like a gentle road on a wheel. It was a smooth transition. It felt heavenly however. You couldn’t compare any feeling of Mark’s lips the way they made you feel so complete in many ways, it was a sensual passionate makeout between them leaving the air round them to be sucked in faster. Your breathes were doing magic together, compiling as one source keeping your fast bodies going somewhere.

The makeout was a speedy and intense success knowing your chest was thumping probably so freaking hard but you weren’t focusing on that. You were focusing on the way his tongue intrudes in your territory so freely and with ease across your tongue wrapping round it keeping you guessing what’s happening next. Your bodies swung around switching positions with Mark no longer slanting on his bike and you now pressed against the machine. Your back resting on the bike leaving you climbing on it where your hands were wrapping up and down his clothes chest and the neckline.

Your hair was pushed back because his hands were crawling down your legs caressing them and softly rubbing the softness of your thighs in that skirt that’s been driving him mad the entire day.

He couldn’t wait to just strip it fucking off your body you had no idea how much he’s been imagining it to the point his imagination couldn’t save him from holding back anymore. You were equally eager it seems though when your tips pinch the belt on his jeans he found himself growing exciting in the shares of your kiss.

His voice pulls you away and your mouth crawls to his jawline and on the sides, you lick down his Adam’s apple. “A bit impatient are we? You’re looking at me with so much impatience.” He felt so many shivers with your teeth grazing his skin so much it drove him right off the edge.

You bring your swollen red lips apart. He swore he saw fire in those awoken eyes of yours. You pull him on the bike and you swap positions once more where you suddenly go on your knees pulling down the trousers.

“You can’t blame me being impatient when you’re looking at me like that…” your words slant themselves and he chuckles deeply hearing this. When his pants fell down your eyes gawk at the sight of his rock hard member in the front your hands couldn’t hold back, you touch it instantly and he vows down at you going. “I’ve been here impatient a little longer than you darling. Why don’t you be a good girl and help me out and i promise — you will get a good reward.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Your saliva spits down on his erected cock and he could just twitch by the warmth of your shared saliva from your intense makeout a minute ago. His head swung back when you first take him in very softly by doing small kitten licks and eventually engulf him into a welcoming home of your inner mouth where your scorching tongue felt like million pieces burning. Somehow that burn became something enticing and thrilling though because even though it was so intense it became more intense that you get addicted. And that’s exactly what Mark went through.

Your mouth was an extraordinary thing and It certainly wasn’t the only thing it was good at. He watches you with a dark lingering gaze that could be darker than the night sky above you both. You fell in love with how he watches you, intensely with his eye locks on you sucking him in so deeply. Making sure every length and part of him was in your mouth. Your deep throating gave him enough time to clench the bike a few times and once even made him groan out a little louder than a few hisses there and then.

“That’s my girl. You’re doing such a good job.” His hands grazed your hair sweeping it up and gently holding it into a ponytail in his hands between the diamond rings that blight you. You felt your stomach turn hearing this and pull apart your lips to make a pop and only to go and suck him in again which leaves him expediting a whole new feeling in the world. You were throating him so hard, it could bruise your mouth but you could not care.

You wanted it to leave a mark. You wanted this to remind you of this experience that you’re doing in the wide open slot.

Mark grunts. “Shitshitshit, careful. I don’t want to cum just yet.” He said pulling your head apart from his cock that was twitching and begging to have a release of its own but Mark had other plans for you and him. As your head was thrown back with a rug to your hair in that ponytail he scraped the remaining drool around your mouth with his thumb.

You swore you could’ve melted on your knees if you weren’t on them already because it was unbelievably sexy watching a man like Mark touch your swollen and reddish lips all from sucking him near to dry and kissing him like it was the end of the world looking you down and gently wiping it clean, with his thumb. You could lose your mind. This man was effortlessly attractive. He was like a whole package to uncover.

Suddenly a pair of fingers have been crossed in your mouth and you didn’t fight back at it as Mark leers down at you. “Suck on them darling.” And you did just as he told you to sucking his fingers until he pulled it away from your lips coating them with your thick and warm saliva.

Your positions switch again this time you’re on the bike again forced to be seated on it with your legs wide open and spread ready for Mark who was leaving you impatient. The skirt was lifted up leaving your white panties exposed and he looks up at you, smirking. You could feel a slight warmth on your face growing again and not only that, once his fingers press on your clit through the panties lining all he could see was a soaking mess.

He was amazed, by this huge effort he has on you. “Y/n I wasn’t aware you’d be this wet i haven’t even touched you yet. ” He leans closer and you turn away avoiding his gaze as you stutter out. “I- can we…get to the fun part.” You mention and he lets out a smile leering it back at you. “Oh trust me love it’s coming.”

You weren’t a fan of his teasing but you couldn’t help but feel mesmerised when he slid down your panties to the side and an accidental touch on his metallic diamond rings makes you twist and turn your head back in a pleasuring awe. At first Mark thought it might’ve been his fingers but when he realised it was his rings he couldn’t smirk at the thought he had. The fingers coating by your saliva pushing deep in your waterfall of a cunt only to have the big diamond rings digging in too much. You choke out your words, but he wanted you to shout to the rest of your lungs till you couldn’t speak anymore tomorrow for your next shift.

Worst thing was that you’ve been imagining this all day since the morning you’ve met Mark. You were creating scenarios with his hands all along and which is why you’re so wet. It was sexual frustration but at the same time, you felt rewarded by this. Mark knew all along you wanted him just as much as he wanted you but of course you tried to hide it by being professional — now answer this where did all the professionalism go? He wanted to laugh but he wanted to see you lose yourself before he does.

Your eyes were obsessed by watching his hands go so deep into your hole that you wanted to see how much you will come. You were pressing at your deep end soon, you could sense a few strings in your stomach boiling for a release you were so close.

Mark mockingly adds. “This is what you wanted all along isn’t it? I saw the way you were checking my hands in the morning. You wanted them to do stuff like this to you.” He looks at your exposed cunt in the public domain with wind cushing at you and you weakly murmur your groans. “Maybe you wanted my fingers to do this?” His thumb pressed down on your clit moving it in circular motion. While his other fingers were occupied by your insides pulling it inside more and more.

The overstimulation did you great because the next minute Mark was welcoming a wave of gushing liquid running down your thighs and into his lap where you shockingly gasp out your high moans on your releasing resort. He was so proud of himself and of you for taking everything he gave you but that didn’t stop him from suddenly roughly slamming you down into the seat more and slinging his erected tip and length to your entrance, you weren’t given enough time but when he kissed you to lead you into him and to focus on to him and not your large orgasm; you couldn’t help but feel calmer and allow the burning stretch of his big girth cock entering you. Your body clench tightly but he massaged down your waist and hips when he feels the urge to your body to clutch.

“That’s right baby taking me so well. Now turn around and press your stomach flat on the bike.” You couldn’t help but turn around and you felt him go even more than before deep working you from head to toe making you squelch with how wet and lubricant everything you had. Mark was insane for just making you press hard on your back so your stomach was flatly on the metallic machine and leaving you on your arms supporting by your elbows.

He wants you to see the view as you’re getting your brains fucked out hopefully you’ll remember everything. He has no doubts you will because the minute the Golden Hour appears, your brain will be taking a photogenic picture in your memory engraved as you’re floating naked on his bike getting your shit wrecked by him. The first ram made you curse strings you weren’t expecting it to make you shake on the first try and go it’s as if he was exceedingly amazing to rock you back and forth in the middling position. Your body clenching underneath him letting your ass jiggle back and forth between the bodies. His weight was heavy on yours and he kept on ramming until he was satisfied with it.

The speed wasn’t slow at all. It was fast and hard. You weren’t sure what’s happening at one point you were lost in all the pleasure you lost your sense of time and presence as well as your self identity. You were going places with Mark Lee rucking against you so good his length tip touched the peek of your g spot making you come more than once, this man behind you fucking you made you come so many times it left you dripping out for everyone to see.

“If only you could take a look at you. You’re dripping on the grass and down my bike.” He roughly slits between his teeth, speaking in broken sentences.

You couldn’t help but grow embarrassed. But Mark loved it seeing you become so actively engaged in with him and his pleasure giving you whiplashes.

You’re in the public sector where people can come and go but since it’s this late you weren’t worrying but the thought of someone walking by at this time walking on you two made this everything ten times more arousing and thrilling for the both of you. You both enjoy being seen like this fucking like animals until you were stuffed and full of him and until you only can think about him, he won’t stop.

Mark bellows at you every time, he said all sorts of things but nothing crazier than him losing his mind to you. “I bet you want people to walk around us and see your dripping wet cunt getting stuffed with my fat cock. I bet you want them to see how much you’re soaking bending over my bike and getting slut out in the open shamelessly like this.”

His fingers tug on your hair lifting you up when the time has come suddenly swing your head upwards enough to leave you choking out your moans. “Now look up at this, beautiful. It’s the Golden Hour.” And your eyes widen seeing the magnificent skies.

The Golden Hour leads you like a tunnel into a whole new haven offering where the sunlight was waking up and so were the people around from the slumber. Your eyes welcome the Golden Hour, that iris of fire so pretty in its devotional image reminding you of the ocean waves but instead they were bright orange, mixing in with the beautiful ember red and the bright yellow equalling to the sun. It left you stunned for a minute and Mark saw your beautiful expression smiling at it. ‘It’s beautiful’ you thought.

He kissed your shoulders momentarily bringing you back and he thrusts deep within inside you again and again until your legs were physically turning into snapping bridges where no one could cross over again.

You cross out holding your mouth when voices in the distance has you questioning the whole presence you weren’t sure why people were waking up this early, but you’d effectively heard a man and a dog barking in the distance. Your moans were hidden into your mouth and Mark whispering chuckling at your attempt to hide them out.

But as much as you tried to hide and conceal your moans you could not thanks to Mark roughly punishing you with his cock growing deep in you. “Awh what’s this hiding your perfect noises you’re making? Darling let them see you so they know how perfect you are.” He gnaws at your brain leaving you helpless and you achingly whimper out.

He spanks your ass once more roughly and gropes it. He could never get tired of your ass for once more. “I’m going to come now.” His teeth clatter as he spoke out final words before grunting releasing bits of his come inside you but pulling out and covering your ass a little too. You ooze out and he couldn’t help but want to replay this image of you stuffed and oozing out him out of you was the hottest thing he could have witnessed.

You try to lift yourself up only to nearly fall backwards fixing your skirt but a figure behind you caught you and you make eye contact with him once more. Mark smirks down at you watching how your legs were shaking and he held your skirt get pulled down and your panties back up.

You couldn’t help but feel hopeless once more, murmuring. “I could’ve done it.” You say softly and he looks at you with eyes that resemble boba pearls.

“I know.” He leans down capturing your kiss softly, putting the belt around his trousers meanwhile he was lost on the feeling of you on his lips. “But I wanted to do it for you.”

“But i…”

He pulls away holding your face with his hands pulling you to face him when you were about to look away and disagree with him doing things for you. “No buts. How about we take a ride and see more of the Golden Hour and then…”

“And then?” Your eyes rose up waiting to hear an answer but Mark smirks shrugging. “And then you can stay over at my place and rest, how does that sound?”

You chuckle. “Okay sounds good to me, Mark.”

You feel yourself becoming part of him. This golden hour will forever hold a special place in your heart.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <3

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[b-o-e]

sleepy phone call Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: fluff :))

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #6 :)

You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

“Hello?”

Ah, jeez.

What had you been thinking?

You’d been staring up at your ceiling for who knows long. You’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to fall asleep, despite the exhaustion seeping through your body.

What made you think calling Wally would be a smart idea in your barely coherent state? Well, actually, it was probably just that. You incoherent state did.

“Hi,” you finally mustered out. You were already regretting your decisions. What if he’d been asleep? What if he had been peacefully reading a book in bed? Painting, for whatever reason?

“... Are you alright?” Wally’s voice returned, laced with concern. There was a bit of rustling. “It’s late,”

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. You were debating hanging up there and then, but that would be even worse at this point, wouldn't it?

“I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Your heart swelled. He was always so sweet and considerate, wasn’t he? Always there when you needed him. You shouldn't have doubted that.

“... I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, gnawing lightly on your bottom lip. 

“Ha ha, I think I know how that feels,”

You facepalmed. You’re an idiot, aren’t you? No, he had not been asleep.

Nonetheless, a giggle slipped past your lips, amused by your own silly mistake.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be one to speak, huh? That was insensitive,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry,”

“I don’t mind,” he told you. “I’m quite used to it. What keeps you up though, neighbour?”

What was keeping you awake? Really, you had no clue. Was it the fact that you couldn’t get him off your mind, to the point where you subconsciously thought ‘hey, calling Wally in the ungodly hours in the early morning is a good idea’?

You shifted your seated position, fiddling with the phone's cord as you pursed your lips in thought. Finally, you decided on an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you sighed. “I just… maybe my brain is being too loud, tonight.” You claimed. It wasn't a lie, yet it saved you from telling the full, embarrassing truth.

“Is there something on your mind you’d like to speak about?” You heard a bit of light shuffling.

“I…” you paused, trying to find the words you wanted to say. “I’m not sure, honestly,” you grumbled. “I think… I think I just wanted to hear your voice,” you confessed to him, blunt and honest.

The call went silent. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach. Did that sound odd?

“Wally?” You forced a chuckle, wiping your sweaty palms on your sheets. When did it get so warm in your house? “Sorry, that was probably a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?” You apologized, grimacing a little.

“Not at all,” his response came swiftly, pausing before he continued. “I’m honoured to hear you say that, neighbour,”

“Okay,” you breathed, relieved you hadn’t creeped him out. You knew Wally wasn’t very judgemental, but you still worried sometimes with the things that slipped past your lips.

Silence fell between the two of you, leaving you to desperately wrack your brain to figure out the right words to say.

What was the point of being so uptight? You already let that last comment slide. You were getting too tired to care, anymore.

“Would you mind…” you began, taking a second to figure if you really wanted to say this.

“Would you mind, just… talking?” You requested shyly. 

“Hmm…” he hummed, “Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Anything,” you shook your head, despite the fact he wouldn't be able to see it.

“Anything…” Wally parroted, going quiet for a while. Your eyes fell shut, your body further into your mattress. Even with him on the phone now, you were feeling less restless than you had been beforehand. His company was comforting, even over a silly call.

“Can I… confess, something to you, neighbour?” Wally’s sweet voice returned to your ears. 

“Of course you can, Wally. I’m always here for you if you need me,” you mumbled.

“... Do you promise?” His tone almost seemed to be one of slight insecurity, an unusual sound for him. Your eyes reopened, staring back up at your ceiling. This seemed like something that could be important to him, and you wanted to ensure he had your full attention.

“Cross my heart, always and forever…” the words fell off your tongue with ease, repeating a vow he told to you some weeks prior. A promise you were more than willing to keep in return.

“Well,” Wally began, “I have… a secret. One that I’ve been keeping from you, that’s about you. One that I've found to cause me some distress,” 

About you? Now, that was a bit worrisome. 

“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong to harm you,” you stressed. That was the last thing you wanted.

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong at all,”

“Thank goodness, I was terrified,” you breathed a chuckle, your worry levels lowering. The feeling was still there, as you remained unsure of what the cause of Wally’s distress truly was.

“Sorry, neighbour… I’m struggling to find the right words to say it to you,” he admitted, sounding slightly defeated.

“Take your time, Wally. There’s no rush. I’ll be ready when you are,” you tried to put his mind at ease.

You could hear him inhale deep and slow, holding it for a few moments, before letting it back out. He spoke gently.

“Your eyes,”

He paused for only a second, releasing a sigh.

“They rob the words off of my tongue.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening in surprise.

“My heart,” he went on, “it sings with euphoria every second you are near,”

There was no way this was happening.

“Ha ha… we may as well call it yours, with how full of you it is,”

Said heart pounded in your chest so loud, you could hear it in your head. 

“It’s no secret how I enjoy indulging in art quite frequently,” He continued.

“And yet, you manage to be the most extravagant masterpiece I’ve come across,” His voice was at a new level of gentleness than you’ve ever heard before. It was filled with nothing but open honesty, although you felt like there was something else laced in with it.

“You’re unfathomably endearing, and I crave more of you every time we part. That night we spent time together under the stars?” He ended with a questioning lilt, causing you to reflect back on that evening.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you then. I wanted to tell you that if you asked me to, I’d figure out a way to give you the moon. That, despite the sky full of them, you shine brighter than any star up there in my eyes,” 

You didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, you were simply just… speechless.

“And after all this time, I’m still dancing around the point that I’m trying to get across, ha ha,” 

“The truth is, my darling…”

Your mind is playing tricks on you, if you heard what you were expecting next.

“... I’m in lo–”

You slammed the phone down on its base.

This was not happening.

Were you dreaming? 

Have you been asleep this whole time, stuck in an extremely realistic dream?

The pain in your arm when you pinched it tightly answered that question for you…

You stared into the darkness of your house, wide eyed.

Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“Of course he was!” You answered that question aloud, slapping your hands to your face.

And you just hung up on him!

You froze.

You hung up on him.

…

You scrambled out of bed.

You tripped over your twisted blankets in the process.

Go, go, go! Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t care to put on any shoes. It was the least of your concerns right now. You yanked your front door open, darting out of it, and making a mad dash to Home.

Your feet padded against the ground below them, your legs moving faster than you thought they even could. Your adrenaline was spiking through the roof!

What if it was too late now? What if you ruined your chances, forever?

Your brain nagged at you. What if this? What if that?

When you came into Home’s view, it didn't even see you as you approached, attention focussed elsewhere. Once it did take notice of you, its door swung open for you, swaying slightly as if to usher you in. That's exactly what you did. 

Your eyes, blurred with stressed tears, scanned the room around you. Drifting to the table where Wally's phone typically sat, you found it to be missing. You followed the line that connected to the wall, ending at the landline, sat right next to the man you were looking for. 

His head lifted from his knees, attention captured by the sound of your hurried breaths as your body tried to compose itself. 

His widened in shock eyes met yours, teardrops rolling down his cheeks as they did on yours. No matter, a smile still remained on his features, despite being the most pathetic you’ve ever seen. You stared at each other for a moment, until you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Say it to my face,” you panted out.

You walked closer, kneeling before him, your hands cupping his cheeks. His own came up, wrapping gently around your wrists.

“Please,” you begged softly, voice cracking with desperation, choked up. “Please, Wally, say it to my face,”

His gaze softened, never breaking from yours. He opened his mouth, hesitating.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

And that’s all you needed to hear.

You closed the gap between you, kissing him, his grip on your wrists tightening. 

“Again?” You murmured softly as you pulled away, looking into his awestruck eyes. He took a moment to process what had happened, before he responded.

“... I’m in love with you,” 

Your lips pressed to his in another gentle kiss, Wally having the mind to return it, more prepared this time. When you pulled away, the corners of his smile quirked upwards.

“Ha ha, again?” He was the one to request this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “I'm in love with you,” he repeated, hopeful of receiving another kiss. You gave a choked giggle, giving him what he desired. You pecked his lips, his cheeks, and then his forehead.

“I’m in love with you too, Darling.” 

imagine getting deceived twice in a row AHAHAAH, I had to make you think it would be more angst so you wouldn't expect this ending like so many of you did, bwahahah! yes, you get a happy ending! yippe! however, this still isn't the end, and there is more to come!

but! feelings are out there! feelings are reciprocated! yippee! I hope you enjoyed this part, maybe just a smidge more than the last, haha!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas!! 'tis all for now! next will likely be out in two days! like and reblogs are extremely appreciated, gimme dopamine rahhhh!!! until next time! MWAH! <3

Posted Sunday, May 6, 2023, at 11:37 AM

#wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally darling #welcome home x reader #welcome home #RAHHHHH HAVE THIS #im eepy #gbye B) #i just sneezed aughnsak

[beelmons]

Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2

Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz

Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking. 

"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek. 

"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied. 

His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch." 

Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them. 

This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit. 

"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout. 

"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.” 

From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot. 

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased. 

“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.” 

You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid. 

“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member. 

“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.” 

The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments. 

“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.

“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance. 

Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered. 

“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you. 

“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice. 

You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response. 

Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards. 

You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation. 

“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say. 

“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt. 

“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards. 

The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else. 

You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed. 

Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again. 

“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.

“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up. 

“I’ve got enough.” he clarified. 

“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.

Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table. 

“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated. 

The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings. 

“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said. 

Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek. 

“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.  

“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak. 

“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way. 

Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him. 

You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter. 

“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.” 

Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer. 

“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you. 

“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?” 

You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit. 

You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended. 

“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly. 

His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.

“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.” 

You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance. 

His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short. 

“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.” 

His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised. 

His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts. 

One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips. 

“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured. 

He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared. 

“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.” 

Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it. 

You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it. 

“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over. 

Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him. 

“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.  

“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool. 

“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand. 

On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat. 

The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions. 

This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask. 

“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table. 

It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture. 

You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt. 

“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed. 

“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out. 

“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added. 

“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.” 

“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.

The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back. 

You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly. 

The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains. 

“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?” 

Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well. 

“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card. 

Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release. 

“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay” 

You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.

Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again. 

“14.” the older man said. 

A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter. 

“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans. 

“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly. 

Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it. 

Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added. 

“20.” Hotch said again. 

The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance. 

“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath. 

Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win. 

“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed. 

Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell. 

“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch. 

Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.

“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you. 

You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas. 

Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face. 

“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release. 

“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides. 

“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back. 

“Hit me.” you said once again.

Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.

Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.” 

Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean. 

“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.” 

“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.

Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won. 

However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,

“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.

The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained. 

“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him. 

He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close. 

He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air. 

“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control. 

Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth. 

The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated. 

Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID. 

“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek. 

Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue. 

“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.” 

You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest. 

“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down. 

“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone. 

“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming. 

“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?” 

The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt. 

“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers. 

“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.” 

As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin. 

You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle. 

“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded. 

“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you. 

“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.” 

Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.

“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said. 

Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him. 

“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him. 

“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement. 

“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor. 

Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush. 

You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun. 

#the worst part of posting ANYTHING is literally tagging #ugh i hate this part but ok lets go #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotcher x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x you smut #fic: mine #fic: smut #hotch #fic: hotchner #fic: morgan #fic: spencer #aaron hotchner/reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x you smut #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x reader smut #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x you smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #aaron hotchner fic

[bu-blegh-ost]

The time has finally come, @girlsonlytreehouse !!!

Today I shall share with you the fruits of my work. But first, allow me to take you on a journey I myself have been through while counting all of this shit down.

First things first, I decided to count the rolls in the context of the characters rather than the people playing them, simply because the luck of the actual people could not be measured accurately if I only take Riptide into consideration (and also I thought it would be more fun). The guys have several different campaigns, some that I do not have access to, so I've decided to seperate all their Riptide rolls into characters they play instead, cause then we can clearly see which character is the luckiest. But ofc if you want this to be attributed differently, the data remains unchanged, so that way you all can interpret the results however you wanted and still have all the info you need on hand.

Another issue were the advantage/disadvantage rolls. When a character rolls at advantage, they roll twice and the only roll that counts is the one that was higher, while the other is discarded and the opposite goes for disadvantage. So for example if you roll at Disadvantage and you roll a nat 20 and a 2, that nat 20 technically doesn't matter. Despite that I decided to count each adv/disadv roll anyway, because despite the fact that it does not count, it was still physically ROLLED, which means it contributes to the character's overall pool of luck. I tried to separate them at first so you guys can make your own decision whether to add them or not, but in the end I decided against it cause it was insanely hard to keep up with. There were just too many and too often, which led me to believe that it was fair enough to count everything as long as they actually rolled a dice.

Which brings me to the last complication, which is of course Gillion's Prophetic Screwup. At the beginning of the campaign Gillion was able to exchange anything that he actually rolled into a nat 20, and in return the DM can change any roll he does afterwards into a nat 1. That way there was supposed to be an equal number of wild unrolled nat 20's and nat 1's to balance Gillion out back to 0, but it didn't turn out this way. In more cases than not, Grizzly would either forget or fail to find a good place to screw Gillion over, so the ability bacame much too unbalanced. So they changed it somwhere in the middle of Edison Kingdom Arc. From then on, if Gill rolled anything from 1-10 it would automatically become a nat 1, and if he rolled from 11-20, that'd be a nat 20 instead. Either way these rolls had nothing to do with luck, as he wasn't actually rolling anything, thus I decided not to count these 'artificial' nat 20's/1's. However I did keep track of them nonetheless and I'll still give you the number of those, just separately, and from then on you guys can make your own decision on whether or not you wish to count it.

OOOFFF ALRIGHT.

Without further ado, here are the nat 20's results (up to ep106):

Gillion: 52

Chip: 58

Jay: 55

Goobleck: 8

Surprised? Yeah I was as well. First things first I never expected this to be this close. And never in my right mind could I possibly predict that it would he CHIP of all people to have the highest score here. But I've seen it with my own eyes. And tell you what. Jay had this in the bag for most of the damn series. She would consistently roll good and always when you need a good roll the most. There were times when she would have such a massive lead it was unthinkable she could loose it. But then she would just kinda...stop rolling good for a bit and allow the other two to catch up. It just wasn't as visble if you don't pay much attention, but I thought it to be cute. It's as she was waiting for them <3 But she was still mostly leading. It was only the current arc that made Chip surpass her. After his terrible luck in Feywilde, he bounced back so strongly right after, that he managed to jump in front of the luck queen herself.

And now I bet you're curious about the other side of the coin. Give it up for natural 1's!:

Gillion: 55

Chip: 53

Jay: 52

Goobleck: 1

You see, I kind of expected it to be Gill, but I need you guys to know that this wasn't the case at all times. Jay? Yes. If there is one thing that's consistent is that she had the lowest amount of natural 1s at all times almost, but the person that was suffering from nat 1 curse for a long while was Chip. In the Feywilde Arc he would be so far ahead of everyone, that I was genuinely sure that there is no way anyone catches up to him. But then he popped off in the next arc with nat 20's and Gillion? Oh my gosh, Gillion didn't disappoint. I've never seen a man fail this much let me tell you XD He ended up with the least nat 20's as well, but I thought the difference would be much higher until he didn't roll 4 fucking nat 20s in ep 100 and then this double nat 20 attack roll in the Black Sea whduihdius AND HE CAUGHT UP AS WELL, more or less.

Idunno, maybe this is just how luck works, but it truly seems that the trio shares their successes and burdens almost equally. They support each other and in return fate has their backs as well. Honestly I couldn't have hoped for better results. Also can we give shout out to Goobleck, the true MVP? He's been on the show only for a while but look at this nat1 - nat20 ratio!!! Go goop man goo!!!

So now for the additional stuff that I also counted just for fun:

*Prophethic screwup nats:

Before the rules changed Gillion replaced 8 of his rolls into natural 20s, and in return Grizzly replaced 3 of his rolls into natural 1s.

After the rules changed he only got high enough number for 4 nat 20s, and a low enough number for 7 nat 1s.

So that together makes additional 12 nat 20s and 10 nat 1s from the prophetic screwup alone. I don't think they should be added, but the numbers are there so feel free to do whatever you want with them :)

Downs and death saves:

Throughout the campaign Gillion went down 14 times and rolled 8 death saves.

Chip went down 6 times and rolled 4 death saves.

Jay went down 4 times and rolled 3 death saves.

No shocker here, Gillion dies a lot XD

Knights:

In their journey Gillion knighted 4 people: Julien Booker, Clorton, Garrieth and Duke.

Corruption score:

Thus far each character has the following amount of corruption points (Black Sea):

Gillion: 0

Chip: 2

Jay: 3

Queen: 1

Gryffon: 2 (i think, unsure abt that one, may edit later XD)

Earl: 1

That is all I have for now. I may be clinically insane :)

Good day to everyone and I hope you found this data interesting. Take care <3

#jrwi riptide #just roll with it #gillion jrwi #chip jrwi #jay jrwi #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #jrwi goobleck #math???? #i guess #insane autistic person talks about statistics for a looong time #if anyone wants something else counted i' m right here fam #GIVE ME A REASON TO REWATCH ALL OF RIPTIDE FOR THE FOURTH TIME I DARE YOU

[cybertroniannugget]

Optimus Prime Nsfw Alphabet

I just love how there's so many people here that are in love with a space robot that turns into a truck.

I already saw a few versions of this here so I thought I'd add my own.

Aftercare: immediately after he makes sure to give you a glass of water first. He enjoys cuddling and caressing your back, just staying in the moment before having to go after his duties again. That's when he's not really talkative.

Body part: he loves your thighs. Always a servo placed there when you're sitting next to eachother. And when you sit on his face, he loves grabbing them A LOT.

Cum: Well he's not human, so his cum is a lot different from the human version. It's actually a bit cold to the touch. Definitely something that needs some time to get used to.

Dirty secret: Sometimes he fantasizes about the possibility of you being Cybertronian and the way you two could experience Intimacy that way. But he knows that that'll never happen. He loves you the way you are and feels guilty for even thinking about that. Nonetheless, he sometimes wonders of what could be.

Experience: He had some experience from his time back on Cybertron. However you're the first human he's ever had such a relationship with, so expect some uncertainty from his side. Gotta give your Prime some time.

Favorite position: he's a missionary guy. Intimate, close, seeing his partner during the act. He adores you and wants to take in the sight of the way he makes you feel good. So definitely missionary.

Goofy: He's not one to goof around during it, but does so afterwards. He's a focused man

Hair: he a space car vroom

Intimacy: Very intimate would be an understatement. The Prime is VERY affectionate, loving and intimate. He loves you with all his spark and wants to make most of the time you two have together. But only in private, since he's not a big fan of PDA.

Jack-off: he rarely does it, given that he's constantly busy. If he does have the time it's to relieve some pressure.

Kink: Overstimulation. He loves seeing you struggle, completely under his control. Being on the receiving end here may happen rarely, but WHEN he is, you just know he enjoys it to the fullest. A whimpering and squirming mess while you have your way with him.

Location: Optimus prefers it in either his quarters or at your home. He needs the privacy. Or at least someplace where the doors can be locked.

Motivation: What riles him up the most are the sounds you make during it. The whimpers and moans, he just loves hearing them from you.

No-Go: You doing anything intimate to him without mass-shifting. He.Will.Not.Let.You.Close. Sure he sometimes pleasures you, but when you brought up returning the favor he immediately shot it down. No chance.

Oral: My man loves giving. He'll make sure to pleasure you the way you like it.

Pace: he's usually got a rather quick but steady pace. But when he's close he can't help but become quite irregular in his thrusts.

Quickie: if there's time between meetings for example he's not one to pass up an offer. But he wouldn't suggest it, so it's on you to initiate.

Risk: Prime doesn't take risks. He always makes sure he and his partner are not to be disturbed. Otherwise he can't focus on his lover. So lock the doors.

Stamina: Compared to a human it's like he never gets tired. He could go many rounds but always takes into consideration that that's not something you can endure.

Toys: The first time you explained to him what a vibrator was, he didn't exactly know what to think of it. He didn't see what purpose toys would have but oh boy he did find out when you tried it out on him for the first time. He doesn't use toys every time but they can be a neat addition for him.

Unfair: when in an especially teasing mood, he'll slow his pace down until you're a mess underneath him, begging for him.

Volume: he can be a bit loud sometimes, so in order to not disturb anyone who might be near, you make sure to offline his vocalizers for just a brief moment. (It's the Cybertronian equivalent to putting a hand on someone's mouth to shush them.)

Wild card: He enjoys the sight of you exercising or just generally being out of breath. Why? He doesn't know either but he loves it.

Xray: Oh, he's packing. The first time you had intercourse, some preparation was needed.

Yearning: He's quite a collected bot. Of course sex is great but it's not like he constantly needs it. But there are times when his libido shoots up for no apparent reason. Those are the days where staying focused is a challenge. He wants nothing but to be reeeaaallyyy close to you.

Zzz: he's not one to fall into recharge immediately after. When you've long fallen asleep, he'll lie there, admiring you.

#optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #Sus #valveplug

[plutogist]

FIRST MEET

i. part one: your first meet with these characters. (part two here)

ii. gender neutral. reader | not proofread (lmk if I used any gendered terms!)

iii. characters: gon freecs, killua zoldyck, kurapika kurta, chrollo lucilfer, feitan portor.

GON FREECS

You and your family just recently relocated to Whale Island, primarily due to financial problems. You weren't particularly against the notion of relocating to the countryside, but you'll miss the city life in YorkNew. In order to become accustomed with the town, you first wanted to explore it.

While you were exploring, some of the locals approached you due to your new demeanor. Speaking with so many new individuals was a little challenging for you, but it was also quite a bit of enjoyment. You were strolling after shopping for new clothes in a store when you stumbled into a person and fell.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed an optimistic voice. You looked up and noticed a boy that seems to be in your age with green spiky hair and hazel eyes. He extended his hand, and you grabbed it.

"It's fine, don't worry," you said with a smile on your face.

"Are you new here? I don't recognize your face; by the way, my name is Gon Freecs!" He introduced himself to you.

"Yeah, I just moved here yesterday. My name is Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you, Gon," you introduced yourself, and the two of you have been acquainted since then.

KILLUA ZOLDYCK

You're Gon's cousin, who also stays on Whale Island. You agreed to accompany him to the 287th hunting exam after learning of his objectives. You were concerned that Gon's negligent conduct may bring him a lot of suffering or, worse, death because he can be rather impetuous when making judgments.

You met Kurapika and Leorio since you were on the same ship as them. During the first phase, you and Gon met a boy your age who had silvery locks and stunning blue eyes that captivated you.

"So, you two are cousins?" Killua asked while the three of you were running. Some of the participants were falling like dominoes due to how exhausted they were, but you chose to ignore them. This is just an endurance test, but they're already failing.

"Yup! Actually, we're like siblings with how close we are and we also grew up together," Gon explained and his smile grew wider. Killua just hummed as a response, while the three of you simultaneously ran together.

Killua is considerably closer to Gon, yet the two of you interact and converse every now and then. Nonetheless, you wished to be more connected to the boy.

KURAPIKA KURTA

You grew up in Lukso Province along with your grandparents (mother side). Ever since your parents were assassinated by an elite assassin when you were 8 years old, your grandparents have taken care of you and ever since that day, you have pledged to seek vengeance on the assassin that killed your parents.

Your grandparents live in the Lukso Province predominantly because it is isolated from the rest of the world, which your grandparents prefer. Your mother moved to Zaban City, where your father dwells, after marrying your father, and shortly thereafter gave birth to you.

You spend your free time keeping an eye on your grandparents' nearby fruit and vegetable shop and entertaining the customers who stop by. A boy with grey eyes and medium golden locks appeared one day. He was a kind customer. He would stop by sometimes and you find him to be quite intriguing.

You later learned his name and that he is a member of the Kurta clan. You two grew closer to one another, and you also met Pairo, his other friend. But the day where he stopped visiting you came and the day turned into months. It was a normal day for you until you heard about the tragedy that was brought upon the Kurta clan. You were substantially devastated by his murder and the death of his clan once the word of their assassination spread throughout the neighborhood and worldwide. But you never knew that he wasn't killed and is the sole survivor of the clan.

CHROLLO LUCILFER

You are a resident of Meteor City, a forsaken city where citizens are not listed in the official records. You have no recollection of your parents or how you ended yourself in the city. You had no idea how you'd survive on your own as a child.

And you're completely aware that you'll die within a week. You're famished, and struggling to move. Your clothes are filthy and coated in dust spots. You witnessed a church while wandering around looking for food and approaching it carefully, utilizing your residual stamina.

The church's doors were closed, but not locked, thus you were able to open them by pushing them. The church was not equally huge as cathedrals, but it was vast and expansive for a city that had been abandoned. The walls have been coated white and are immaculate, but the ceiling was embellished with various fresco paintings pertaining to Christianity - quite reminiscent of Michelangelo's masterpiece in the Sistine Chapel Ceiling. The windows were shut down, so the sole source of illumination was coming from outside the door.

You sat on the long wooden pew bench, gazing at the hardened asphalt surface, absorbing the misery and starvation that had been devouring your body for days. Your eyes were gradually giving up until you felt a tap on your shoulder that made you flinch. When you turned around, you saw a boy with medium-length black hair and grey eyes, who was looking at you with a smile.

"Hello. My name is Chrollo. Who are you?" he sought out directly, an inquisitive expression on his face. You didn't respond promptly because you were considering all of the possibilities, but you concluded that he might be able to help you. "I'm Y/N...Nice to meet you, Chrollo...," you sloppily said, your hunger returning, and Chrollo appeared to notice.

He reached deep into his pocket and offered you an edible treat. "I'm sorry, this is all I have," he responded nervously, chuckling. While glancing at the snack on his palm, your eyes gleamed. You took it away and opened the treat, but before you bit through it, you smiled at the boy. "Thank you, Chrollo," you said as you devoured the snack. Unbeknownst to you, a pink hue was prominent in his cheeks, but you were too busy eating the food to notice it.

FEITAN PORTOR

You work as a clerk in a game store at YorkNew City's Saloma Mall. Even though working as a clerk isn't really your thing or something you'd enjoy performing, you don't want to rely excessively on your parents when it comes to buying the items you need and paying for your tuition as a college student. You opted to work as a cashier at a game store in order to make money because you are completely aware of how much they are paying and it makes you ashamed to ask them for something you desire.

However, it is a minimal wage. You work for a full 14 hours without ceasing to sleep or even take a break, but periodically you take a nap if there isn't a customer or if your friend Aki is there. You earn 1000 jenny every hour. (I based this on the currency of Japan [yen] + I also searched on Google abt this, so I'm sorry if it's inaccurate.)

It's Thursday, and it's 10:45 p.m. You yawned as you flipped through the pages of the novel you're reading, rereading the lines because all you've been doing for the past few seconds is reading the sentences and not processing or understanding them. "I'm so exhausted..." you whispered to yourself as you flipped over the pages of the book.

But your lackadaisical manner was shattered when a bell on above of the doors chimed, indicating that someone had entered. You noticed two persons enter the shop: a guy with blond hair and two green eyes, and a boy wearing baggy clothes and a skull-embroidered scarf concealing his mouth. He's also much shorter than the guy he's with.

You noticed the two walking around the aisles, looking for a game that piqued their interest. However, based on your insights, the boy with black hair appears to be apathetic in anything, as he simply follows the other person about, sporadically examining something but quickly leaving it, in contrast to the other, who seemed to be extremely thrilled skimming at various videogames.

"Hello, this is what we're getting," you didn't realize that they'd already arrived at the counter. You simply nodded and scanned the three objects he set on the counter.

"Your total is 3500 jenny," you said and placed the three items in a bag. He placed his money on the counter while you gave him the bag, and you began to count the money that he gave. "Oh, but before we leave, my friend here thinks you're attractive; my name is Shalnark, and his name is Feitan! See you later, Miss!" The person dashed away, while the other gazed at you for a brief time before chasing him down.

You're still perplexed by what just occurred while your hand is still occupied with the coins. And it turns out that as Feitan was sitting on the seats inside Saloma Mall waiting for the rest of the troupe, he noticed you wandering about in your uniform. And we'll...he's been watching you ever that particular day, but he's reluctant to approach you.

Here are your ages:

Gon - 12

You - 12

Killua & You ^

Kurapika (when you first meet) - 13

You - 13

Chrollo (when you first meet) - 11

You - 11

Feitan - 25

You - 21

#hxh #hunterxhunter #hunter x hunter x reader #gon x reader #killua x reader #kurapika x reader #feitan x reader #chrollo x reader

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day nineteen: hate sex

>>> i’m really taking some liberties with this prompt LMFAOOOOO listen. y’all should just be thanking me this wasn’t a gojo kinktober. leave me be. also this is the first piece since my laptop kicked the bucket so PLEASE ignore the UGLY formatting i will fix it as soon as i get a new laptop.

>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: ghostie gojo jdjdfkgk, bestie nanami, uhh spankings, choking, doggy, prone bone, cream pie, pet names (sweetheart) and mean names (dickhead, asshole) >>> wc: 4.5k >>> event masterlist

everything was perfect. he was a great partner despite all the people that warned you that the special grade sorcerer was incapable of it. he was wonderful and sweet and considerate, even. he brought you lunch at work and took you on wonderfully lavish dates. he texted you constantly and showered you with gifts. you had only been together for a few months, though almost a year of history had led you here. you were happy, proving everyone who doubted your relationship wrong. until you realized that they were only trying to keep you from this reality.

“i love you, you know.” you told him, swinging your intertwined hands between you as he walked you home. this was a truth you’ve known since the relationship was too fresh to say such things, but a truth nonetheless. he hid it well in the moment, but that was the death sentence to a man like satoru gojo. he knew it was only a matter of time—yet his heart stopped in his chest, turning to steel before falling out of his ass. but he made sure his smile never faltered.

“oh yeah? i’ll add you to the list.” he chuckled, poking your side to make you laugh at the stupid taunt. it worked well enough, you didn’t seem to catch on to his avoidance. you didn’t chastise him for not saying it back, at least.

he walked you to your front door like normal. he gave you a goodbye and goodnight kiss like normal, he even smiled so genuinely and told you he’d call you in the morning—just like normal.

but when morning came, his call didn’t. no big deal, you thought, he’s a very busy man. once he gets some free time, he’ll call. but hours pass, and you don’t get so much as a text to apologize or let you know he was going to be late. you keep staring at his contact, debating whether or not you should bother or not for an hour or so. but a text couldn’t be too distracting, so you type something up.

‘good morning! or afternoon now, lol–i missed ur call, i hope ur having a good day!! call me when you can xx’

it doesn’t deliver. you furrow your brows and try it again, but it still doesn’t go through. you move to a different area of your house, thinking it was spotty reception in your bedroom. you try to send the text again—but it still doesn’t send. you try to call, your heart now pounding in your ears. something must have malfunctioned, right? after all your years as friends and these brief months exploring more—he wouldn’t just block you, right?

the phone call doesn’t ring, just an automated voice telling you that that the call couldn’t be completed as dialed. he blocked you. without so much as a hint to why. everything was perfect last night, he was all smiles and laughter, what could have changed? you want to call the only mutual connection you have—ieiri shoko—but decide it’s best not to involve her in the matter between two of her friends. it’s not tasteful and if there’s any chance of this being a misunderstanding, then taking it to your friends is the last thing you want to do. you could maybe ask nanami for advice at work in the morning—you wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, but he’s how you met the strongest man alive. so he has to have some tips! yes, you’ll talk to nanami about it first thing tomorrow.

talk his ear off about it is more apt if you ask the grade one who merely dabbles in business work. he tried to be polite and listen to the tale—but your first mistake was in dealing with gojo in the first place. there was no advice in the world to fix that amount of stupid, especially if you were looking to get him back. but nanami catches the issue as soon as you recount the tale of your last conversation with the special grade.

“you told him that you love him?” he clarified with a raised brow. based on the judgment that flashes in his eyes, you know that was the wrong move. you huff in frustration.

“you introduced me to him—why would you set me up like this nanakun??” you pout, angrily folding your arms over one another. it’s a shitty attempt to take the heat off yourself, and nanami can appreciate it.

“hardly. he shoved his way in my office and you happened to be in there already.” he rolls his eyes. trust him, he did not want to see more of gojo—and dating his workplace’s secretary only meant that the annoying presence followed him even here. “i strongly advised against it. i knew we would end up here.”

you shoot him a glance, but his unamused face remains unchanging. you ignored everyone’s warnings, choosing the results he was giving you as reason enough for them to be wrong. did he enjoy leading you on and wasting his time? what was the game in all this?

“you shouldn’t have gone after him at all. but you definitely shouldn’t have told him you love him first.” nanami nearly seemed horrified. or what you imagined he would look like when horrified, eyes slightly widened and jaw dropped partially.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. maybe it’s because you knew how you felt for so long. maybe it was just because satoru put you at ease—none of the reasons matter now.

“it’s hard for him to do serious. love is as serious as it gets.” nanami sighs wistfully. you were a nice girl who didn’t deserve to be another name on the list of hearts broken by satoru gojo. for your own good, you should forget all about him and sorcerers as a whole. you would be much better off. but something about that look on your face paired with the fact that he knows satoru has never been happier in his miserable existence makes nanami sigh. “he’s just afraid of committing. the only person he ever loved just up and left him one day. so just…try to let him go. let him come back if he wants—if you want. maybe then he’ll be ready.”

your heart warms at your friend’s words. it was clear he couldn’t care less if things worked out or not, but he wanted you to feel better. you smile softly at his words, “thank you nanakun, i’ll try to…let him go.”

you think you did a pretty good job of that. as time went on, you think you even managed to convince yourself you didn’t want him back at all. if he could just flake out on you—look you in the face and lie—you didn’t want him. no matter how sexy and sweet and strong he was, trust is the most important thing. you keep your head down and work hard, catching up with nanami and learning any updates on your sorcerer that way.

apparently he was casually dating around, but nothing nearly as serious as you. he made sure of that. he hadn’t heard an ‘i love you’ in years, and while he may have thought it at different times throughout the past couple of dates you’ve been on, he hadn’t said it. even thinking it was bad enough. that meant you held an unimaginable and concerning amount of power over him. that meant you could crush his soul into a million pieces. that meant you could ruin him—and he can’t go through that again. the possibility of handing himself over to deep and passionate love was beautiful in theory but terrifying in practice, and the thought of giving in just to lose a second time were odds he just wasn’t willing to gamble with.

so he did it first. if he broke your heart you couldn’t break his.

so why does he feel so bad? so empty? every pretty girl he carted around after that was a weak competitor. they were nice enough, but so shallow and boring—they treated him like everyone else. you were special. you treated him like a person. someone with feelings and dreams and regrets. you asked him questions. real questions that made him think about real answers, nothing surface level like his favorite color or movie. you wanted to know him. and he let you learn just some of his darkest days and you told him you love him anyway. and he ran away from you. goddamn. he’s his own worst enemy.

he shows up with flowers one day, six weeks after you’ve broken up—or he dumped you. it was a normal day until then, but it certainly wouldn’t be after. it was laughably large bouquet, it almost looked like he was struggling to hold it all. your eyes must look like two full moons based off of his amused yet apologetic smile. you have to make yourself stop your smile before it spreads.

“hi…” he said nervously, shifting his weight foot to foot. he messed up—how could he make up for it? “i was wondering—“

“leave.” your shaky voice manages to croak out, quickly looking down at your paperwork. you had to avoid his stare, surely he would figure you all out if he looked deep enough. nanami said to make him work for it.

“flowers aren’t your thing, huh?” he seems undeterred—in fact, he seems emboldened by your reaction. “that’s fine. i’ll leave them here…” he styles them on your desk, sweeping your stapler and pencil sharpener and organizers to the side to accommodate the large vase. you watch him carelessly move things about, forcing you to accept his gift.

“you’re annoying.” you groan, though the flowers are gorgeous. they’re the same kinds you pointed to when you went on a nature walk one time—something he swore he was going to hate but ended up being one of his favorite outings with you. you seemed to have that effect on him.

“i know! one of my better qualities, i think.” he hums happily, chlorinated pools of crystal blue stare at you over the lenses of his casual sunglasses. he traded in the blindfold in hopes of winning you back—he wasn’t above playing dirty, even if he was the reason he had to play at all.

“as opposed to? ghosting?” you raise your brow. he sighs. he doesn’t know what he expected. he knew you wouldn’t fall right back into his arms, but that biting look in your eye makes him wonder if he’s messed things up beyond repair. either way, he won’t go down without a fight.

“yes—that’s one of the bad ones.” he scrunches his nose in distaste. he bends at the waist to lean his elbows on your desk, propping his face up in his hands. “look sweetheart—“

you scoff, leaning back in your office chair with something akin to amusement. you fold your arms over your chest and arch your brow, and even though you are absolutely pissed, you still manage to make his heart skip a beat. “don’t call me that, you fucked me up. or does that it make you happier?”

“you think i’m bringing you flowers for my health or something? i’m trying to apologize!” he whines, tugging a lone flower out of the bouquet and extending it toward you. “i’m an asshole, i know, and i don’t deserve to call you sweetheart—“

“i don’t accept.” you tilt your nose in the air. he swears he can see the hint of a smirk on your lips, and he sighs. you hold the power yet again, but this time he’s going to allow it.

“what can i do to make it up to you? it was a mistake..i see that now.” he frowns, looking down at the pale pink petals brushing against his fingers.

“mm, yeah? i’m sure fucking a bunch of other women helped clear that up.” you look at the flower in his hand too, examining the brightness, the absolute perfection of the petals. it almost withers with the man holding it.

“wh-what?” he blinked rapidly. he hadn’t had sex with anyone—god no, he can’t do fleeting connections, and in his heart of hearts he knew that none of them would fill the void you left behind. but your jealousy…now that he could use. “aw, baby, just say you missed me. i could clear up some things for you too.”

you snarl at the insinuation, even more annoyed that he didn’t deny romping around with other women after dropping you like it was nothing.

“i’m sure you wish you could, baby, but i’m not sloppy seconds.” you take the flower and snap the stem, tossing it on your desk without second thought. he pouts at the gesture, deciding that words were no use on you, he hums. he knows how to handle this.

“no, but you are more delicious the second time.” he sings, and you get up from your desk in frustration. he was so irritating. did he think that he could just disappear on you like that and you’d just forgive him like nothing? you huff up at him, gathering all your stuff and shoving it into your office bag. nanami watches from the stairs—and he’s proud that you’re making gojo work for it, at least.

you stomp out of the office building with all the theatrics at your disposal, and it only makes satoru smirk as he walks after you. god you want him so bad, he thinks. he catches the office door before you can slam it closed behind you, sliding his palm across the wooden panels with a suave coolness. it’s like he has the situation completely under control, strolling leisurely after the little lady stomping and yelling at him over her shoulder. he knows he fucked up, and if you wanted to blast him through the city on your route home, then he’d smile and walk dumbly after you.

your heart was racing. he was still following you—and you knew if he cornered you alone, there would be no denying him. your brain was fighting hard enough to deny him back in the office already. your blood is boiling. why do you want him back so bad? he left you—is sleeping with other women, even, and you're letting him tail you to your house. you shut the door on him, but he just teleports into your living room anyways. you give him a look—not sure what else to say. ordering him out would be futile—as you didn’t want him to and he clearly wouldn’t obey.

he’s smug, sitting on your couch with one long leg crossed over the other one, his arm stretched across the back of the couch like he’s just waiting to put it around you. he stares at you knowingly, but that smirk is driving you insane.

“stop looking at me like that—and get out of my house.” you try meekly, at least you could say you could. your eyes narrow at his unmoving form and he can’t help but chuckle a little bit.

“you’re trying so hard to be mad at me, sweetheart.” he hums, arching a brow in amusement. he bats those long white eyelashes at you like he’s just ready for you to admit the truth and come crumble in his lap.

“i’m pissed, not trying that hard at all.” you scoff and shake your head, tossing your bag on the floor so that you may properly cross your arms at him. “you lied to my face, ghosted me, and now you’re acting like i’m being ridiculous for not accepting your flowers and taking you back?”

he shakes his head, a little nonchalant frown on his face. “you aren’t ridiculous for that—“ he stands and makes his way to you, not even bothering to hide the way he eyes you up and down. “you’re ridiculous for pretending you don’t want to. i could make this allll better if you’d just let me, sweetheart.”

his breath is as icy as his eyes when he leans down, brow arched like he’s asking a question. he is, you realize, he wants to know if you’ll let him.

“i never really slept with anyone, sweetheart. promise. was just trying to get you off my mind. didn’t work—made everything worse, actually. i got what i deserved.” he sighs softly, noting the hesitation on your face but the want in your eyes. he reaches a tentative hand to your face, giving you a soft smile when you let him touch you. “i’m sorry…you’re all i can think about. i just got nervous—i’m so stupid. beyond stupid—“

you smash your lips onto his to keep him from yapping. all he had to do was apologize. really apologize and mean it—but you would still punish him for walking away. you would make sure he could never do it again, lest he’ll never be able to get you out of his head even in death.

his hands grab at your dress, pulling you against his body in one fluid motion. the kiss changes moods entirely. the room feels like it’s buzzing now, his passion felt through the way he moves. he slides over your ass, kneading and fisting the fat with a groan into your mouth. you step into him, backing him to the couch. he grins against your lips like always—his kiss was warm and apologetic, lips hurriedly slotting over yours in an effort to make up for his transgressions.

he falls into a seat, pulling you into his lap with him. he sees your plan, and won’t go down without a fight. he promised to straighten you out after all. but letting you think you’re in charge was adorable, so he didn’t mind to indulge in it. you push his chest back with your own, grabbing his chin in your hand roughly. his back hits the couch and he can’t hold back his little giggle as his hands follow the paths of your body, though a satisfied hum follows at the feeling.

“you are sorry—a sorry piece of shit.” you huff, repeatedly kissing him over and over with all the anger you’ve been pinning up for the past few weeks without him. he grunts lowly, opening his mouth to invite you deeper. you take his willingness as a gift, plunging your tongue in his mouth and making sure yours stays in control. he tastes like honey and cinnamon, and it was a taste you missed more than you let yourself believe.

“pieces of shit must be your type though.” he sasses, standing up with you on his lap. he knows where your room is based on his extensive stays over, it’s nearly muscle memory for him to kick your door open with the point of his shoe, smiling up at you like no time had passed —like no bad blood had resulted from it. he throws you down like you weigh nothing, though he takes a seat on the side. upon hearing you gasp at his words, he scoffs and shakes his head. “don’t even think about it. i’ll fuck it out of you anyway.”

you can’t deny the way your body tingles and warms at his command. he’s usually soft and sweet, just rough enough to satisfy any cravings of yours—but he never struck obedience into your soul. your mouth closes, and he chuckles a little bit at your change. “that’s better. now if you wanna keep poppin’ off with attitude, i’ll get nasty instead of the sweet apology i planned for you.”

you roll your eyes, he was testing it. “don’t tempt me—“ you huff, a little annoyed at how easily your body gives up. you didn’t want to give him the ego boost of obedience, so you give him the attitude requested. “you messed up—i’ll talk to you however I want—“

he sighs and tugs at you, pulling your body at will. he splays you across his lap—long legs hanging over the edge of your bed. your dress is shoved up over your ass, and the tiny string of your thong is drawn back and snapped against the flesh. it makes you squeal a little in surprise, but you would be lying to say you didn’t want more.

“oh i’m a piece of shit, who are these for, nyeh?” he flicks your panties again, the sensation a small pleasurable sting.

“you dumped me—they’re for whoever i want.” you huff at him, even if his jealousy makes your heart warm. he slaps the fat of your ass lightly, humming at the way you jolt.

“yeah?” he smacks your other side, “i didn’t fuck anybody though. knew i needed you.” he spanks the same spot, the sting intensifies so wonderfully and makes your head spin. you can’t help the little moans that leave you with every slap.

“didn’t fuck anybody either, dickhead.” you pant, tossing him a glare over your shoulder. his free hand comes to grab your throat, sinewy warm and soft fingers wrap around your column with a tight grip—though not enough to restrict any airflow, of course. his cock stabs into your side at the sight. he grins brightly, almost sadistic in nature.

“you’re silly.” he hums, squeezing your throat until your eyes cross a little. he hums at you, the vision enough to make him painfully hard, but he always knows when to let up. he slaps your ass in conjunction with his little squeeze. he knows how to keep your eyes on him— repeatedly shaking his head, like he disapproves of you. “so pretty though. but mouthy.” he tsks, giving you a punishing spank to your tender skin. he hums pleasantly at the way your skin breaks a little, his red handprints making their way to the surface. “can’t even accept an apology. what do you want me to do, sweetheart?”

you can’t deny the wetness pooling in that skimpy thong. the stinging through your ass only makes your brain fog worsen, need was the only thing on your mind. he was so strong and sexy, and he was trying to make it up to you. you suppose you could…hear him out. that didn’t mean you were back together.

“fuck me—i’ll make my decision based on your performance.” you purr in his lap, wiggling your branded ass. he groans, you’re going to tease when you look like this? he woulda proposed if you asked him to if it meant you were all his again. commitment didn’t scare him so much anymore. you were as angry as ever and you still smiled when you saw him. you still let him follow you back home to plead his case. even if you didn’t have much a choice, you hardly even put up a fight. and he knew what that meant: you weren’t nearly as angry as you were trying to be.

“oh i’ll fuck you, sweetheart. let’s see if you can take it.” he hums so innocently, scooting you off his lap and onto all fours. he slides your thong to the side, laughing giddily at the sight of your soaking cunt. you definitely weren’t as mad as you were trying to be. “god look at this ocean—i almost feel bad for ya. trying to be such a meanie t’me when i’m the only one that can make it better.”

he wrestles with his pants, pushing them to his knees with haste. precious time was ticking, and stripping completely was a waste of it. he nearly sighs in relief when he frees himself, pumping his length fluidly. you whine at the time it’s taking him to fuck you, wiggling your cute rear and huffing.

“takin’ too long—“ you can’t finish your sentence before you cry out, his cock splitting you open just as you asked for. your walls felt like coming home, and every squeeze you give him was like a warm hug. he can’t believe he denied himself this for weeks just because you said something he’d been dying to hear from someone who meant it his entire life.

“better?” he asks, using your plush hips as his handlebars. this was why you would never be able to move on from him no matter the advice and warnings and every sign in the world telling you ‘no satoru gojo!’ he was just too good, he knew you all too well and your body craved and needed him like water. he fit in your cunt like he was built to, every pump of his cock left you gripping the sheets in an effort to hold yourself up, which you can only do for a few more seconds. “what, too hard? i thought you wanted to be fucked, little one?”

you’re stuck in a silent scream, unable to answer him. you feel like you can feel him in your lungs, his hips absolutely bullying yours. he admires your deep arch even though you’ve fallen forward, your ass rippling into his pubic hair so perfectly he had to reward you with some grunts and groans of his own. he lays over your back, cooing his praises in your ear.

“there she goes, now she’s taking good dick. can’t believe you almost wasted a thong like this— good thing i stay around, yeah?” he shoves your forward just a bit, off his cock and face first into your pillows. you whine at the loss, but he flattens your legs and sits on top of them—squeezing his cock between your thighs and ass, guiding his dick back in. you mewl at the new sensation. how could he possibly be deeper? “awww, that’s a good girl. letting me fuck ya like i hate ya when i’m just trying to prove that i love you too.”

you clench when he says it, moans intensifying as he uses you in this new position. he smirks, you’re adorable. laying there screaming for him with a gorgeously painted ass and a perfect body taking all the force behind his thrusts. “you still love me, sweetheart?”

you nod eagerly, your moans borderline animalistic. “yes—fuck, yes i do, i love you satoru!” you feel him so deeply in your stomach that you can’t keep holding back. it felt like a rubber band snapped as you squeeze around him and cover him with your essence. he keeps going, eyes trained on your recoil and the white ring you left at the base of his cock. your confirmation only drives him crazier, your limp body beneath him taking his increased pace like a champ—little overstimulated moans the only sound he can hear.

“gonna cum in this pretty pussy to show you how much i love you.” he groans, picking your body up in one strong arm to hold you down on his cock. you feel the rush of heat and shudder, the fact he was willing to deal with the consequences of cumming inside alone made you want more of him—until he couldn’t cum anymore. he holds you up, luckily enough— you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself—and places soft kisses to your neck. he hums, enjoying the taste of your skin slightly sweaty and warm from his love. he stays inside you, he can’t bring himself to move just yet, but he sighs in content.

“so…we back together?”

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