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#should i do it again but with the green one
glassrowboat · 2 days
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I Grew Up
Summary: Before Jing Yuan was the general of the Luofu, he was just another kid who would play with wooden swords and bugs; a menace who was always ready to prove himself as a Cloud Knight. And besides him? A girl from the Alchemy Commission who was always ready to annoy him in his endeavors.
Warnings: Mentions of war, gore, death, there is an NSFW part (when both characters are adults), so fingering, smut
Word count: 11,300+
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A loud, cheery voice called out “one, seventeen, five hundred and seventy two,” as a blade swung in the air. The rustle of clothes coming with each move, every practiced hit to a non existent enemy having a random number sang out into the air to match it. No chirping bird nestled in the trees to be had as the source of the voice had long since scared them all away. “Nine hundred and ninety nine, fifty six!”
And with each shout Jing Yuan was repeating the number he was actually on in his head, trying not to let a certain annoyance distract him as she has done so many times before. (Y/n)’s antics just as familiar as the spot he found himself training in. Cracked stones with bits of moss growing between the once upon a time smooth concrete, a red tree providing shade from the blaring sun, and a bench only five feet away currently supporting a girl with her hands to her mouth, trying to echo out each word.
“Sixty nine! Two thousand one hundred and five!”
Her green dress was tell enough that this girl was from the alchemy commission, but they both already knew that, the details of swirling clouds so unlike the ones above the two providing shade. A shadow cast out over the courtyard helping keep the air just cool enough that a light breeze would have anyone considering fetching a sweater. Well, anyone not in the middle of a training session.
“You are being a nuisance.”
Per usual.
Bringing his sword back up to practice another swing Jing Yuan tried his best to ignore the taunting words just begging him to chase her around the small space, again. “Oh, big word for a little guy. Jingliu teach you that one recently?”
“What if she did? Master is-”
“Three hundred eighty six.”
“Master is-”
“Seventy nine.”
With a clamor Jing Yuan drops his sword in a way one could compare it to a knight getting his weapon knocked out of his hand in the heat of battle. A daunting enemy above him threatening to end his life with their own blade as he scurried to fetch it back in time before that looming presence, a terrifying face about to become the last thing his ten year old self sees. So like a prince charming in a fairy tale, his fingers would grasp the worn down hilt from the shape of his hand just in the knick of time, blocking the enemy’s strike. A triumphant hero. Except it was the complete opposite. The sword just fell to the ground from a slip of Jing Yuan’s fingers.
“Smooth moves, Yuan.”
“If you hadn't distracted me.”
“And what cloud knight is supposed to lose his weapon because a chicka said a few words?”
Jing Yuan had to stop himself from biting on the inside of his cheek or maybe even a scoff just so he could get out: “any knight should know that sometimes you will lose your weapon in combat and what really matters is what I do next.”
Like he could grab a hidden dagger! Or….”I could just take the blade of a defeated foe.”
“Like what? Those giant ones the mara use?” (Y/n) held a hand up above her head, waving it in the air to call extra attention to it, a habit from waiting to be called on in class after listening to someone drone on for hours at a time about the medicinal properties of lily of the valley or something of the like. “I've seen those before, and they're taller than both you and I, so good luck! You'd have to spin around in circles just to give the blade any force behind it.”
A small giggle fell from her lips as she pretended to swing a giant blade, mocking the same way she would see Jing Yuan use his own.
‘Just what in the world is she imagining?’
“Just admit it, evolution didn't choose you, short stuff. So you'll just be a knight in training even when you're five hundred years old.”
‘As if!’
Picking his blade back up Jing Yuan slid it away in its designated sheathe with a satisfying click, the glare from the metal no longer reflecting on the ground beneath him as the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. “I told you that I'm going to be taller than you one day. Besides, you're only four inches taller than me, that isn't a lot.”
“I feel like I can make a joke here but it might go over your head.”
“Nope! Nope!” Not wanting to hear it, Jing Yuan smacked his hands to his ears. Maybe it would be enough to block out her shrill voice even as (Y/n) got closer to try and pull them off and out of place. “Just because you had to earn about that stuff for your studies doesn't mean I want to hear it. Not again. Mom already gave me the talk and it was awful!”
“You're such a kid.”
“She was talking about things with things and wouldn't let me leave until I repeated it back to her.” Right after he had run to go try and wash his ears out by dunking his head in the water can outside his home in hopes of the water knocking the words loose.
“You're not helping your case here.”
“It doesn't matter! That stuff like kissing other people the way mom and dad do is so not on my agenda. That can be saved for your princess stories and other girly stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” A little grin curled at the corners of her lips, most likely due to having another retort right on the tip of her tongue. (Y/n) even got out the words “then why are you so huffy over this stuff” before being cut off with little to no mercy by a loud call of her name. A man’s voice shouting for the girl again and again, only drawing nearer with each passing second. “Shit! I-I mean shoot. Shoot.”
Dropping his hands he stood there watching the panic come to her face. Only slightly smug. “Sure you did.”
“You're not helping!”
Quickly her form ran over to the courtyard's many walls, green dress fluttering behind as those little legs scurried around in a panic. Her voice only picked up in speed as (Y/n) tried to get the situation out, and understood, as fast as possible. “Yuan, I have to go right now. I left without permission again.”
‘Of course she did. Probably to get out of those talks about being switched out to advanced classes.’
“Hoist me up!”
“And why should I? You've been doing nothing but trying to get under my skin this entire time.”
Again, another call of her name sounded. Haize’s voice becoming clearer and clearer. A man Jing Yuan had only come across in passing when trying to drag a certain nuisance into playing with him. Or, a better way to put it, (Y/n)’s master.
“You motherf- I'll owe you!” Her hands were scrambling at the bricks on the wall, trying to find just the right ones to use for purchase. As if that's how scaling a flat wall would work, like rock climbing. Sure. “Just help me up or for the Reignbow Arbiter sake!”
He couldn't help the chuckle he was trying, and failing, to fight back from escaping, not with how quickly she did a 180. From teasing the life out of him (per usual) to now looking like she would plead like her life is on the line. Though with master Haize it was hard to tell, he could very well deal out writing the same sentence a thousand times over worse. At least that's one of the lighter one's Jing Yuan has heard about.
‘One shall not leave the alchemy commission without permission’ with each ‘I’ dotted with one of her hastily drawn hearts.
“Why should I? I think this is simply karma.” Despite his words Jing Yuan was already coming over to help, eyes going up and down the wall to figure out the best way to go about it.
“You little- I'll owe you, okay?”
“I know you will.”
And just like those five years ago, when they were both kids running amok trying to help one of them escape from an unjust punishment, (Y/n)’s shoe fell between his interlocked hands to his shoulder as she managed to swing a leg over gray tiles of the walls roofing. Admittedly it was a bit of a blessing that at least this time she didn't have to step on his head to get that proper step up. Last time that left a good mark of dirt in what was otherwise Jing Yuan's pure white hair as she scrambled away with a wide eyes scanning over the courtyard like she was expecting her master to pop out of thin air and a quick “see ya!”
Now though? (Y/n) was looking down at him from up high, her hand held out to help him up to follow her.
“And why are we sneaking into one of the alchemy commissions gardens when you have full access to go here?” This entire thing didn't really make sense to him, but here he was playing along even as the scent of flowers hit Jing Yuan in a way that was comparable to a woman accidently spraying her perfume in your face.
“Because, esteemed Jing Yuan, you're not allowed back here. And we have to do something to celebrate you officially becoming a cloud knight.”
Grabbing her hand the very same ‘esteemed knight’ pulled himself up and along beside her with very little help besides a tug or two to his blue sleeves. The uniform he now gets the privilege to wear with a red ribbon Jing Yuan ties around his waist every morning with pride after years of work and swinging that same blade over and over again. He swears that if he took a moment to just sit there and close his eyes while this menace of a woman jumps down into the garden below that he could feel the grip in his palm.
That is until his eyes shoot open as he hears a grunt and sees her figure kneeling on the ground, one of her hands brushing dirt off her face. Failing at that too, but for now she doesn't need to know that.
“Smooth moves.”
“Shut it.”
Jumping down after her, in a proper landing, Jing Yuan helps her up as (Y/n) huffs.
“But my point still stands, cloud knight.” Knocking a hand against his chest she turned back to the garden before them. An array of colors. Each petal is like a brush stroke on a canvas. “You got to your big goal, so we should celebrate.”
“Many of the other trainees after getting accepted were shooting the breeze with shaoxing glasses in their hands, and you choose a flower field you know like the back of your hand to take me to?”
“Fine, don't appreciate it. But I at least thought it would be nice. It's been a while since you've been allowed back here after you ruined a flower bed.”
“And last I recall you're the one that pushed me into said flower bed.”
“Anyway-” trying and failing to hide her laughter at what was most likely the memory of tripping Jing Yuan straight into a pile of dirt and seeds before her fellow classmates (Y/n) bent down so she could properly look at the blossoms before her. She probably knew every little detail about that flower, but Jing Yuan couldn't place it as anything more than just another pink one.
‘Anyway, she says.’
“Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses? Besides, if anyone catches us I'm just here….getting a few herbs I need to dry out for a project I have planned out. The number in my dorm has been dwindling.”
Moving besides her he sat down on the wooden walk set up to make sure no one would repeat his mistake so many years ago of mistaking where the path ended and patch started. At least that's the lie this one who thinks proper decor is bottles full of potions ultimately decided on before their scolding began. Jing Yaun’s boots making a hefty clunk as he settled down.
“And not even a drink to be had?”
“Yuan, wait until you're older. I shouldn't have to go over the repercussions of drinking before your prefrontal lobe has fully matured with you. I'll do it too.” Another huff. “It's very important for you not to touch a drop before your behavioral patterns-”
“Is this you talking or the lessons you've learned, prodigy?”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Plucking one of the flower's petals off she held the fragile thing up, studying the veins as she held it up to the full moon. The only source of proper lighting to be had when neither of you could afford to turn on the ones for the garden without being caught. Who knows what trouble could be had for you two from this even with her supposed foolproof excuse for being here.
“Carnations. You've probably seen a few as decorations at those fancy tea houses, the ones we've seen those Foxian ladies favoring so much. These can be used for their anti-inflammatory properties if you're in short supply of the normal pain meds the commission makes. A poor substitution in my book, but it's best to always have something extra on hand just in case.”
Raising his hands up Jing Yuan brings them together a few times in a short round of applause. She always did look so intense when bent over work tables with mixtures of all sorts at her fingertips, eyebrows knit together just as they are now. “You really do sound like a proper healer when you go off about this. Shame I know you for mainly cussing when you stub your toe.”
“A lady is allowed to express herself!”
“‘Lady.’”
“‘Cloud knight.’”
“You can't use that on me anymore now that it's true.”
It takes a moment, her eyes on him in silence before finally relenting and muttering a short “touche” he almost missed.
Taking the petal from those hands lacking the calloused his have Jing Yuan pinched it softly, trying to view the one little piece of life the same way she seemed to. A well of endless possibilities that could be made into something more than just a woman's perfume. “Say, I think it's time I cash in one of the many favors you owe me.”
“And what favor do I owe you, big guy?”
“Ah, someone's still petty I grew taller than them.” Chuckling Jing Yuan looked up from the petal to a face that still had the slightest smear of dirt on its cheek, barely seen in this lowlight. “What happened to those precious three inches you had on me?”
“It was four.”
“Three inches.”
“Well, it's perfectly normal for a young man to be tall. If anything it's just a sign you were able to grow up strong and healthy despite all the times you slid your fried cabbage on my plate.”
Something she had let him do on multiple occasions as they shared a table at either the alchemy commission when everything was stuffed full of nutrients and seemingly without a sprinkle of sugar or at his family home as Jing Yuan’s mom always slipped them an extra dessert whenever (Y/n) was over.
“Well, uh…”
‘Okay, it seems we're getting off track here.’
“You owe me for helping you escape Haize when you were thirteen.”
“No, I gave you my desserts for a week in recompense. It's been paid off already, Yuan. Try again.”
Huh. Tilting his head at that his eyes rolled up to the star covered sky. The Luofu was on its night cycle meaning they could properly see the galaxy beyond the blue hue and clouds that would be overcast during the day time.
“It's pretty, isn't it?” A hand pushed his shoulder, not nearly enough to knock Jing Yuan down to the wooden path but it had him rocking in place for a moment. Tall but lanky as a certain healer had described him, right after saying he needs to eat more, then he'd properly fill out once he ages up and grows out of the awkward teenage phase. “Just say what you want. I'm fine with you owing me for once.”
“Of course you are.”
And of course he shoved her shoulder right back.
“Can you tell me what it's like to see a mara-struck up close? If I'm to meet one in combat I should know what I'm going into, and master Jingliu can only help so much.”
‘Master has only one perspective.’
“Good to know you're not so over confident that you're rushing into battle with your sword raised for a charge. I didn't know you had a brain in there.”
“Seriously? You- Just back to my question.” Jing Yuan snapped.
“Okay. Fine. Impatient much. The thing is with your question…It's simply not a fair comparison.” She took a moment, eyes going from between him to the flowers that surrounded them. Lavender, marigolds, chrysanthemums, and so so many more. A field. And if he asked Jing Yuan was sure (Y/n) could tell him the scientific names of each one without issue. “The one's I deal with are primed for dissection, not for a fight.”
A sigh.
“But, it's not pleasant. Master had me- let me try again. You know those gingko leaves that tree in the courtyard you used to always train in? How would they slowly turn from green to yellow only to fall off soon after?”
“I would always be tasked with cleaning them up. Part of my ‘due diligence’ and training in patience. I'm pretty sure though it was just master Jingliu not wanting to clean it up herself.”
“Well,” a small giggle came from her at that, “someone needed to do it. And if I caught you sweeping I'd always fetch a broom and spend the afternoon helping you catch up on chores.”
‘And she would always hold it over my head after.’
“I loved gingko leaves when we were younger, because they made me think of you and those moments where we were threatening to hit each other over the head with those old brooms that probably couldn't even handle a single strike. I would pick one out from the dustpan and keep it stored away in one of the many pots in my room. Like they were precious.”
“Is rambling included at this time to stop and smell the roses?” He couldn't help the little grin that came to him, lips quirked up at the edges with absolutely no effort to stop it.
“Don't interrupt me if you're the one who wants an answer. No lecturer wants a student that can't shut their fucking trap.”
“Okay, okay.” Raising his hands in surrender was automatic at this point after hearing just that pissed off voice alone. “Go on, teacher.”
“Thank you. For the Reignbow Arbiter’s sake. So,” (Y/n) clapped her hands together, calling attention to herself despite the fact Jing Yuan was already paying more than enough to her, “back to my point.”
“The thing is…After my first dissection, even with master Haize watching over the entire procedure, I couldn't look at the mara-struck all at once. I was supposed to dissect it like a frog, something I've done dozens of times before, but I couldn't even just take a step back to look at the thing properly. It was a task to be objective.”
‘Couldn't look at them? Was it someone she once knew?’
“When I finally did it was at the end of the process when the master said I could wash off, and there I stood by the sink with those stupid blue rubber gloves covered in the coagulated blood of a dead body and gingko leaves.”
“I couldn't think about them the same way anymore.” Her head dropped. Eyes downcast on the very hands that had cut and opened up what was essentially, or at least should be, a corpse. “The abominations are so different from us, Yuan.”
“I know.”
Even the thought of those creatures could ruin a night like this it seems, one full of their usual antics and trouble seeking habits. The mara-struck, an inevitable fate for all Xianzhou natives if death doesn't take them first.
“Maybe you were right, maybe a drink to go with this night of celebration would have been better. Then we could be cheering about something stupid and-”
His hand was raised, reaching out to her, only stopping midway when (Y/n) glanced up at him with a disapproving stare; most likely for interrupting her or getting caught off track despite all the times she's done so to him. “And you were just getting on my case about it earlier too. Frontal lobe..something or another.” And he wiped the dirt he had been letting stick to her without a word off. The grainy texture is a sharp contrast to her own smooth skin.
“You- how long has that been there without you telling me?”
“Since you fell off the wall.”
“I didn't fall, I jumped.”
“Are you sure about that, prodigy?”
She swatted his hand away, much like she was dealing with a pesky bug flying around near her ear.
“I hope you know that when you get hurt on the field, and you inevitably will because all you knights do at one point, they will bring you back to me. When that happens, I will make sure that whatever injury you acquired will somehow end in my fellow healers being convinced they need to chop one of your limbs off due to risk of infection. You will be at my mercy, Jing Yuan.”
‘Great, another threat.’
She's made hundreds of threats since the moment they met varying from some that had Jing Yuan stumbling over himself in shock to wondering if the best she could do was smack him over the head. Especially when he's still getting taller. Who knows, maybe one of those days she'll have to ask him to lean down for her just to be met with a solid hit to the head. The thought alone had him laughing.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hey! What's so funny you two bit bitch?”
“You don't need to worry about it.”
Taking one of those pink carnations Jing Yuan plucked the stem from the ground, not bothering to mind the dirt when his fingers were already dusted with it. Fragile petals and a soft hue. It truly was just a flower in his eyes, but somehow it looked like more than that as he tucked it behind (Y/n)’s ear as she scolded him for picking something without permission.
It was two years later Jing Yuan found himself holding a bouquet of the very same flowers after toiling over the best way to do this for hours, but they seemed only fitting. The shop owner he bought them from was nice enough to wrap them in those sheets of paper used for…well, decoration? And a red ribbon much like the very one in his hair.
The only difference being from when he bought them ten minutes ago to now is how the long stems had been wrangled as he clutched them tight in his sweating hand.
And her, staring up at them.
“Happy Luofu alliance day to you too.”
“You're all the way out here instead of joining in on the festivities?”
Papers were scattered all around her like a blanket on the grass, some clearly torn out from their notebooks as pages were frayed at the ends and others were slightly yellowed from years of use and spills of what is most likely more than just coffee stains. Scribbled notes that had Jing Yuan careful not to step on one and leave a footprint behind (for fear of being scolded, again) as he caught glimpses of diagrams, highlighted margins, and sketches of organs as he walked closer to her.
“There will be countless more years to spend in the Dragonvista Rain Hall. For now, I want to spend my one free day organizing my notes.” As she spoke (Y/n) lifted up the notebook that had been on her lap in the air.
“Your ‘one free day’ being a holiday you're required to take off.”
‘Yet here she is working.’
Glancing up Jing Yuan’s eyes fell on the tree she was sitting under. Foliage far from dense enough to keep the occasional sun beam peaking through the leaves as they cast golden rays on her green dress; still wearing her alchemy commission uniform, even now.
“Did you not have to be dragged to classes once kicking and screaming?”
She would even cling onto his arm, shouting for the future cloud knight to protect the poor damsel in distress from the fearsome bad guy. That being Haize as he plucked her up from the ground and carried her out of the courtyard like a disgruntled cat. Jing Yuan’s ear would be ringing for the rest of the day, but it was always worth it seeing her so pissed off after purposefully being a frustrating little brat. Teasing him like no tomorrow.
“Times change, Yuan.” She said, her words full of laughter. “Though, I did see this poster earlier about some foxian theater troupe putting on a performance. Epic of the Old Verdant House, if I remember it right.”
“That explains why we can hear drum chanting all the way out here.”
A melodic beat full of energy that matched the chatter of the crowds down below. From here he could see the lanterns hanging off of every pillar they could and tops of tents full of wares with people being waved in to 'come and see what we're selling, benefactors.’
“Sure does….say, I'm surprised you have the day off. Shouldn't an esteemed cloud knight be going around patrolling the streets to help keep the peace? I thought you'd jump at the chance to try and show your dedication, yet here you are not even in uniform.”
Standing there in everyday wear without a single piece of armor Jing Yuan shifted his hanfu sleeve, the fabric stretching only to fall back as he let go. It wouldn't hinder him, but it certainly wasn't his usual garb.
“I switched out my shift with that kid you helped last week.” Though she had many patients. It wouldn't surprise him if (Y/n) had forgotten about the event entirely. Things do tend to start blurring together when it's the same day after day, or at least that's what she says. “The one who got all bruised up in training, Aiguo?”
She hummed at that, seemingly to take a moment to recall. “The blond? For a cloud knight he sure does bruise easily.”
“He does…” The flowers in his hand were only wrangled up further as this conversation continued. This was besides the point. “So, rewriting your old notes then instead of going to that performance? I might have to grab a rose so you're forced to stop and smell them.”
Her eyes flicked up to him and he had to grip onto those already wrangled stems even harder to keep himself from simply choking the words out in his haste. A few white knuckles were easy enough to stand in favor of making this right.
“It's a better use of my time then watching you try and catch a goldfish at one of those scooping games again. I'm pretty sure by the time you were out of credits to waste away the vendor and I had become dear friends.”
He couldn't help but raise a brow at that. The only reason he was trying so hard in the first place was because only a week before she was forced to get rid of her pet scorpion. Ingredients had been found in her dorm by a supervisor, and after an apparently long meeting, it was determined the thing had to go despite her begging to just let him stay in the alchemy commission.
“It was rigged.” He said, slightly shrugging as he did so.
“All carnival games are rigged. That's the point.”
‘True, but at least it got her laughing. Even if it was at my expense.’
“Or, and hear me out on this, Yuan. It could also be that you just suck.”
“Thank you, so much.”
“Oh you're so very welcome.” Picking some of the sheets of paper up she tucked them between the pages of her notebook. Brand new but it was already covered in dirty fingerprints. No doubt from her collecting samples to tie into the pages as he could already see some of her old notes with a dried out jimson weed (if he recalled the name correctly) pinned down with thin metal wire keeping it in place. “I just don't have the time to do this any other day.”
“So.” stepping in closer to her spot under the tree Jing Yuan kneeled before her, making sure they were eye to eye even if she wasn't paying him the same amount of attention he was her. “If I asked you to come down and watch me struggle to catch you another fish?”
“And do you have the credits to spend on something so lavish?”
“I can spare a few.”
“I…I'm busy. I want to get this done.”
“And I can get you some osmanthus jelly.” Lifting the bouquet up, Jing Yuan held it up to her, the end of the red ribbon softly swaying from the movement. “You preach to me the importance of taking a break but you can't take one yourself?”
“You know I hate when you use my words against-”
And her words were drowned out by the loud sound of an engine, of a starskiff racing on by as fast as it could go. A familiar sound that would normally have Jing Yuan nodding to himself at the sight, taking in the beauty of such skilled piloting, but right now it only had him spitting out hair from his mouth as it whipped right into his face. White filled his vision as papers flew before his very eyes. A specimen of belladonna seen for only a moment before it trailed off, caught in the strong breeze the ship kicked up.
“No! No, no, no!”
Like confetti the notes she had spent years on flew away. Not even her hands snatching to grab anything proved fruitful as she scrambled up to pluck anything from the blue sky. Her fingertips barely grazed a sheet completely covered in yellow marker over the written margins before it fell to the crowd below.
Multiple people down below dressed in their finest attire, the festival masks, and waving their fans to keep cool in the generated heat of the Luofu's system were caught looking up and around them as the notes fell all around them. Ranging from the rooftops to the streets as those years she spent were tread over with little to no care, like they were nothing more than posters advertising something or another, as (Y/n) whined at the sight.
“Fuck!”
As Jing Yuan pulled the last bits of hair from his mouth he could see her flipping off the direction the pilot flew off in, even as it was long gone.
“Fuck you you punk ass bitch! Come back here before I shove a catheter up your dick!”
“Interesting insult.”
Grabbing a sheet of parchment from the branches of the tree, only a few of them stuck in there, Jing Yuan held it out to her.
“I hate this fucking household.”
Sighing Jing Yuan looked back at the paper in his hand as she just pouted at the sight of it. There goes his chance to confess it seems. Another day then.
“Come on prodigy, I'll help you find everything we can. It doesn't matter if it means spending the entire Alliance day peaking into alleyways or climbing over crates.”
“Just another favor I'll owe you.” She grabbed the paper from him as she spoke, fingers going over that messy handwriting that was no doubt scrawled down in a rush to get everything in her mind to a proper record. “Years of work.”
“No, there's no….”
‘No need for a favor.’
“Actually.” The flowers were over by the tree now, forgotten in the midst of what just happened, but did he really need them right now? Sure, this wasn't how Jing Yuan had been wanting this to go down, but what did those hours before the mirror practicing what to say as his friend, a fellow Cloud Knight, mean in retrospect when she was pouting like this? “I'd like to cash in that favor now. I’m going to ask you something and I don't want you to immediately say no. Take your time to think about it.”
“Now that's a big ask.” She said, grip tightening a little bit more to the point the paper started to crinkle under her touch. Maybe she was worried it would grow wings and fly away on her too.
“I know.”
Grabbing her hand, careful to make sure his actions did not tear anything, Jing Yuan squeezed it softly. She had no calluses made from the efforts of swinging a blade, of wielding a weapon. No, they were soft from the amount of lotion she used from always applying some after washing her hands again and again once she was done making some new medication or concoction or another thing of the like. Somehow that made it all the easier to hold her just like this.
“The next Alliance festival, I want to go together not as friends, or two people trying to find your notes, but as eachothers date.”
“No.”
“Now that's not taking your time-”
“Ask me again later, when I'm in a better mood; and pick an event that will happen sooner than a once a year festival.”
‘Oh…. Oh!’
Squeezing her hand a bit tighter Jing Yuan asked: “will you go on a date with me sometime this month? We will have to figure something out between your busy schedule, prodigy.”
“I said, ask me later.”
“Technically it was ‘later,’ just by a few seconds.”
“This is the worst confession I have ever heard and I've seen people proposing on the medical beds when one of them is so drugged they can't even understand what is being said to them.”
After a moment she added in, “you still have to help me find my notes though, then I'll say yes. And I want a better confession too, like in those romance books. Give me a whole speech.”
“Are you seriously asking me to study those girly novels of yours?”
“Yes. Or no dice.”
“I- fine.”
‘To believe that years ago I'd cringe at the thought, but here I am agreeing to it just to satisfy this bossy woman.’
“You're always a headache.”
Later that day, after spending hours combing the city to find every last sheet they could manage, Jing Yuan tied the red ribbon around her pinky, admiring how it showed she was his as (Y/n) told him she'd find the time in her busy schedule to squeeze in one little outing.
And it was that very same hand he tied a ribbon to, that he grasped that day, the very same day he played in his head again and again with a smile that could never leave him at the memory, that is now threaded through Jing Yuan’s hair.
Tugging. Pulling. Unapologetically leaving knots he'd have to comb out later.
“Patience.”
“You've been saying that for the past ten minutes, Yuan.”
The way her voice came out slightly strained had his lips tugging up. Soft little pants he was drawing out of her from those pretty lips he yearned to kiss right now even as his own were sliding along her naked thigh. Tongue just barely lolling out to leave a small lick before retreating once again.
She'd call him a tease. Has been, actually. But Jing Yuan couldn't barely help himself when seeing her like this.
Blankets pushed off to the side and barely hanging off the edge of the bed that was cast in only the low glow of a lamp on a desk nearby. One covered in glass bottles full of things he's been warned not to touch, and he knew well enough to listen. It was enough to have his fingers gleaming as he pulled them away again.
Much to someone's dismay.
“Stop being mean to me. Please.”
Jing Yuan only hummed in response, not minding her begging much as his teeth just barely dug into her skin; the idea of leaving a mark was so, very, tempting. To know that under her skirts in the days to come would be proof of this moment in the dark.
Her thigh tensed in response, muscles flexing before falling back to a relaxed state as his lips ran over the imprints of her underwear he had been pulling and tugging at earlier left. A garment discarded as soon as his head dipped between her thighs, yet here she was urging him to give her more.
‘How greedy.’
But he is too as Jing Yuan’s cock strains against its confines. Fabric he'd usually consider loose, breathable, and easy to move in suddenly betraying him with every shift of his hips against this old mattress. Barely providing anything friction as he breathes in the scent of sex. Of slick. Of her need for him.
Just that alone had his hips bucking forward.
His gaze moved from the way she sucked his fingers in as they slid back inside her with a wet squelch up to those half lidded eyes that flicked between him and the ceiling.
“Yua-”
A chuckle fell from him as she chased after him, her breath hitching and eyes falling closed as his tongue slid between those lips he's never had a proper chance to taste before, and oh what he would do to let those legs wrap around his fluffy white head and eat a meal he's never had before for hours just to find what would make her unravel beneath him.
Would she call his name in those final moments with her toes curled the way they are now? Would she be clinging onto the sheets with a knuckle white grip? Would her chest heave as he watches those breasts still red from being tugged and teased at fall with every breath?
Yes, they were both greedy.
“I know you're doing that on purpose.” She finally managed to say between her whines and attempt to stifle them away under her free hand.
“Am I now?”
That accusatory glance had Jing Yuan curling his fingers over a soft spot that felt different from the rest, spongy even, as he tried his best to act innocent. Not very convincing when his words are muffled by her pussy, but it was a try nonetheless.
“F-fuck…”
“I can't help but think you liked that.”
It was a wonder she wasn't trying to kick him in some way, but maybe that's just because with every movement of his fingers her head was being thrown back into the white covers.
“Where do you…how do you even know where that is?”
“This?” Jing Yuan asked, fingers crooking even more by just the slightest amount to brush over that spot inside of her again.
(Y/n) didn't need to know the real answer to that, not when she wouldn't let him live it down if she ever found out. She'd get on him until his ears turned pink and she'd only make it worse by pinching them and saying something like “oh sweetie, you're looking sick. Maybe we should take your temperature, yeah?”
So no, he'd keep the fact that one of her fellow students in the alchemy commission went around to all the guys he knew were in a relationship during the mess hall. Lunch hour as silverware clattered against those metal food service plates while some young lad with a diagram of all things pointed out…well...where to touch a woman in exchange for a hundred credits in turn.
Money well spent in his opinion if it had her looking at him like that. Glazed over eyes enough to have Jing Yuan wanting to press a kiss to those soft lips. To let her know just how she tastes.
“Maybe I'm just a natural; a prodigy just like you.”
Wouldn't that be nice? To know just where to touch her to have his name cried out like a prayer. The Reignbow Arbiter an afterthought to his fingers, but he was willing to give her the rest of their lives together to figure this out. To have her melt in his embrace on all the nights they will have, just like this one where she sneaked him into her dorms.
The door didn't even creak on their way in.
He didn't even stop to do anything more than lock the door before Jing Yuan had pulled (Y/n) into his arms. Hands playing with the fabric of that green dress as it traced over the
gold accents on her chest all the way up to the clasp keeping it shut as their lips met in hurried kisses. One after another as she tugged him along through the bedroom to help keep those heavy boots of his from accidently kicking and knocking over anything of importance as they found their way between boxes of files to the bed.
Designs of swirling mist made Jing Yuan feel like he was on cloud nine as they slid up her thighs.
She rolled her eyes as he asked about her underwear, wanting to know if it was just for him. If she anticipated this happening and wanted to look her best for him.
The thought was a sweet one.
But right now that pair was tossed off somewhere long forgotten as his face was covered in her slick, and hands forcing her legs apart as she writhed beneath him.
How long could he take without breathing in some more air? The thought only came to Jing Yuan as his ears buzzed the same way they would after staying too long underwater. (Y/n) his lake he would willingly jump in even if it drowned him.
“Pr-prodigy my ass.”
A kiss to her trembling thigh, eyes locking with hers.
“Are you saying I'm not doing a good job?”
“Not at all.”
‘Sure. She's so snarky even like this.’
A whine, a plea for more met him as Jing Yuan pulled his fingers out. The curve of her plush ass he wanted to squeeze and grope at again covered in spittle and arousal just like his mouth.
Maybe if she was in a sane enough mind she'd be saying something like it's been twelve minutes now. That is if she ever got the chance as he kissed her again. Body hovering over hers, taking note of just how small she looked under him.
How easy it was to grab her wrist and pull her flush against him.
Cock brushed against her through those damnable layers of clothes Jing Yuan wore that had his head burying away in her neck to take in the scent of herbs that clung to every piece of clothing she had. Trying to bite back a groan as he did his best not to rock against her in a frenzy, but it was (Y/n) who ran a hand along his bare back and whispered in their small sanctuary of sheets and pillows “we can stop if you're nervous.”
And like an over eager fool he rushed out a no.
“No, I promise I'm fine.”
‘Worried I'll cum in under a minute, but fine.’
“Besides, you made me wait for a full year so I'm not going to pass on this now.”
“Patience,” She teased back. Hand brushing along his cheek that he couldn't help but to press a kiss to. “Besides, it seemed only right to wait until we were both adults.”
“Is this where you lord over the fact you're three years older than me again?”
Though she hasn't done that since he passed her in height, much to a certain someone's annoyance.
“Maybe.”
Tightening his grip on her waist Jing Yuan pulled her impossibly closer. Her warmth, her laugh, her hands tracing the muscles on his back she could surely name off the top of her head like it was nothing, it was all a reminder of how much he held her dear.
“Can we….”
“Start now?” That laugh again, the curl of her lips as she looked up at him through those long lashes she has cursed everytime they ‘betrayed her’ by letting something in her eyes.
“Yes.”
It was as Jing Yuan had tugged those pants down and out of the way that she grabbed his chin to lead him into a kiss. The taste of her still there, still lingering as her lips parted into a moan as for the first time it was his cock that filled her. That they were intertwined in a way that would make the Aeons themselves blush.
And it was in that moment as his hips moved to meet hers with a wet squelch that had him biting his lip not to moan too loudly and give away what they were doing to any of her neighbors in the dorms did the words I love you fill the air.
Her hands in Jing Yuan’s hair as she whispered them right back.
I love you.
I love you.
That's what she said to him as the wind whipped around from an awaiting ship. Luggage in her hand as she looked back between the people on board who were walking back and forth from the dock to a place Jing Yuan couldn't see with wooden crates full of provisions. Old nails clearly being the only things keeping the boxes together as he watched the cloud knights assigned to this mission just like she was.
Blue armor much like his own, but he wasn't one of the few that were chosen for this. No, (Y/n) was. A healer is always needed.
“I shouldn't even be gone long. At most maybe a year. Maybe two.”
Far from long in the eyes of a Xianzhou native, that's for sure. The denizens of the Luofu had their lives tick by as the humans who came to the ship for trade and sightseeing grew old and suddenly stopped showing up. All due to a very obvious conclusion. But two years without her?
“Why wasn't it someone else assigned? There's always Aihan.”
“That girl? She still gets squirmish during autopsies.”
Meaning no can do.
The stomping of boots continued as men tread back and forth. Some of the knights even stopped to give Jing Yuan a respectful nod or even a wave before continuing on with their task. His brothers in arms despite the fact he wasn't going to be besides them on the field this time.
“Besides, it's only Yaguoret. This should all be wrapped up quickly. At least compared to the thirty year missions some people are assigned to.”
A shrug, like this, wasn't a big deal at all despite the fact they both have been on a battlefield now. They both knew what it was like.
“Look Yuan, I'll be back in two years at max and when I arrive in your awaiting arms,” her hand slid along the blue fabric of his uniform, playing with the material she had sewed back together for his time and time again, “you can keep me all to yourself for a week. Just you, I, cute dates or… other things.”
“Two weeks.”
“One and a half.”
“Two weeks, prodigy.”
The two stared at each other for a moment before she finally sighed, shoulders dropping for only a moment.
“Fine, two weeks. I'll be all yours.”
Grabbing her hand, Jing Yuan locks their pinkies together. Silly, childish really, but it always worked when they were younger. Though it was mainly her wrangling him into compliance.
“Promise me.”
“I-I…..promise.”
So why was he now sitting in her room staring up at Jingliu listening to his master say something he never thought would be uttered?
The file boxes had been taken away, the bottles that had once reflected his own golden eyes back to him as Jing Yuan asked about the contents now missing, even the terrarium for Ingredients (Y/n) never bothered to get rid of was gone like it never existed in the first place. The dorm room is bare, hollow of the personality it had accrued over years of use.
Photos of them ripped from the walls leaving dark squares from the sun aging the wallpaper that once framed those cherished memories.
“What do you mean she's been exiled?”
“I mean exactly what I say, Jing Yuan. Miss (Y/n) of the alchemy commission, student to cauldron master Haize, has been exiled from the Luofu.”
Jingliu's hand moved to rest on the empty desk, brushing over the dust that had accumulated during the past three months that no one had properly cleaned this room. It was always something he intended to do, to keep up with making sure this place was as spotless as he could make it so she wouldn't come back to dust bunnies and a fit of sneezes, but work had been suddenly thrown onto him like something was amiss. Something massive had obviously happened, but he knew better than to ask when every time those who talked about it would shut their mouths the second even a wisp of his hair was seen.
“The fact she wasn't sentenced to death is a surprise.”
Because of course no one would want to talk to him about his own partner being….
“This is a mistake!”
Getting up from bed that creaked under him from the sudden movement Jing Yuan stood before his master, eyebrows pinched together to keep himself from outwardly scowling at the woman he owes so much to after years of training with the sword.
“You know her just as well as I do! She never would have hurt anyone like this.”
“When I knew (Y/n) best was when she was a fledgling. A kid, just as you are now. Letting your emotions blind your view of the truth will do nothing to help you.”
“I've known her for fifteen years. There's no way the same woman I know who takes spiders outside after finding them would be capable of murdering a hundred knights.”
(Y/n) can't even hold a sword properly. She is a healer, a woman who makes mixtures and applies bandages. Who presses kisses to his wounds as Jing Yuan tries to brush them off like they're nothing to avoid the bitter sting of hydrogen peroxide she would mercilessly apply to him with a smile like nothing was wrong. A woman like that holds no contest to men trained for combat. Some of those men that were sent out even had hundreds of years under their belt.
“Even if she poisoned them?”
Jing Yuan hissed out a breath at that, jaw tensed just the same way it would when the antiseptic met his braised skin.
“She's…she may be capable but that doesn't mean-”
“After the soldiers died the effects started to show in the village people that lived on Yaguoret. Even cauldron master Haize said it was the same symptoms the corpses of the cloud knights seemed to have gone through.”
Jingliu pulled her hand back from the desk, a small coating of dust on her fingers she brushed off.
“Haize has done everything he can with what he has, but the people native to that planet keep dropping faster than he can try and make new remedies.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, like Jingliu was waiting for Jing Yuan to finish what she was trying to say himself, but he bit his tongue. Refused to use it. He wouldn't say the words aloud.
“Only your partner would know the best way to go about making a poison that her own master could not find an antidote, or whatever those alchemy commission bunch need, to stop this issue in time.”
“The elders have decided this will be written off as a plague. That will be what is documented as to keep Haize from having his position looked at with suspicion, but he will be on thin ice from here on.”
What Jingliu wasn't saying is: it's a wonder the man is keeping his job at all.
“This isn't possible.”
‘She wouldn't do anything to risk her…and the promise.’
As it felt like his chest was being clawed at by an invisible hand winding its way through his mouth, past Jing Yuan throat, and ripping his lungs apart to grasp at his heart Jingliu placed a letter in his lap. The envelope it was in clearly had been torn open, but it was his name on the white parchment with the ‘I’ dotted with a heart.
Somehow the sight of it made it even harder to breathe.
“She left this behind for you, clearly. When they were cleaning out her room trying to find evidence that was stumbled upon.”
That would explain why her room is so empty.
The words why is it open then we're right on the tip of his tongue, but they both already knew the answer to that.
“Do you know its contents?”
Jingliu nodded at that, not saying a word as her red eyes flicked down to the torn apart packaging of something that was supposed to be meant for only him.
“Does it mention…”
‘Does it mention why?’
“It's best you read it yourself if you want to know.”
It was the force of habit alone that had Jing Yuan nodding as he was given one last glance by his master before she left him alone. Most likely he can process this thing on his own, but just the sight of it, the idea of what's inside, made him feel sick. Hell, he was half tempted to burn it and throw the ashes of what's left out the window so he can watch them dance on the wind the same way those specimens of belladonna and jimson weed got carried away.
Swallowing down the taste of bile licking at his tongue, Jing Yuan folded up the envelope and tucked it away in his uniform.
That… can be saved for another day.
A day for centuries later.
A day for when he was stopped short as a bird flew down and nestled upon the crook between his shoulder and golden armor piece strapped down to Jing Yuan's arm. Little chirps filled his ears as he walked through the streets of the Luofu. Sing song, a perfect background to his afternoon stroll as the few people he passed by on this path he's memorized after years of use bowed their heads.
Surely, if it wasn't for the upkeep on the potholes or cracks in the sidewalk he would have worn the shape of his boots into the white concrete long ago.
Another chirp and Jing Yuan looked down at the red beaked creature with a lazy smile. These things were always so comfortable with him, to the point he's even gotten a few comments from Fu Xuan about being a Disney princess. Something he just nods along with without complaint.
It was amusing how much his acceptance seemed to annoy her.
“Now, now, if you're too loud you might make this old man lose even more of his heari….”
His hearing.
But there he was stopped short, one foot in the air waiting to follow along the path only he knows the exact details of even as people try to record the goings and happenings of the Dozing General. Frozen in space, in time, like it was ice that kept him stock still and not a single image that came onto one of those many blue screens depicting today's news.
The words wanted written right under the white and red pictures of Blade, Kafka, and a woman Jing Yuan never thought he'd see again.
That old ache blooming in his chest again like a flower in a patch of dirt just waiting to be watered as her eyes were revealed to him. Even in a drawing meant to capture her image they never changed.
Teasin, inquisitive, and seemingly filled with thoughts he never had the neverending years to dig into like he was planting his own garden.
Wanted Stellaron Hunters.
Turning on his heel the bird that was nestled against him flew off, its wings flapping away as it took flight, and he was left to stride out of Starskiff Haven with his boots thudding their way back to the Seat of Divine Foresight as Jing Yuan tried with all his restraint not to break out into a full out run.
“You're dismissed,” is all he said as he entered those old walls, loud and clear for everyone inside to hear.
Heads turned his way, some immediately moved to leave, and the blond rascal of a kid he was so fond of came up to him only to hold his tongue as he saw the look on Jing Yuan’s face. A “very well, general,” threw his way as Yanqing followed everyone else out.
Jing Yuan didn't even notice the glance back to him as the doors shut.
Now it was just him standing there on the giant board surrounded by blue holograms, banners hanging from the beams up above, scrolls stored away in their exact places, and the lion statues he himself commissioned to be built in this place.
All alone.
Just like he was with a letter he never wanted to read as his feet carried him to that desk he hovers over day after day. Fingers moving along the smooth bottom to press a button that forced a drawer open. Thin, barely able to contain anything at all. When he first got this piece and requested such an addition the odd looks didn't bother him much, not when the carpenter didn't need to know what it was for. As far as he cared the simple phrase ‘official documents’ would have held enough weight.
But it wasn't some folder filled with the Xianzhou Luofu's darkest secrets, well, not fully anyway. Rather, it was a torn open envelope and the messy scrawl of his name.
‘Jing Yuan’ staring back at him.
Even after all these years later and his memories fade in favor of a blanket of mist keeping all those years locked away, he knew well enough she didn't like to refer to him that way.
It was Yuan.
It was her Yuan.
The paper felt odd in his hands, despite the amount of times he's pulled it out and debated opening the thing before it fades away to dust, like it was brand new. A clean sheet of paper despite it no doubt having passed through multiple hands before something that was rightfully his possession fell into his grasp for the first time. Fingers teasing over the ripped envelope as he pushed it aside and pulled out a folded note.
It wouldn't be too late to back out now, just how he has done a hundred times before as he failed to bite the bullet even his old master was able to, but then the image of her flashed in his mind again. The wanted poster was an accurate portrait, but it still felt like a character compared to the memories that were like a migraine that never ceased to ache.
‘Evolution didn't choose you, short stuff.’
‘Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses?’
‘I don't care if I'm busy, I'll find the time to go on that date with you. I promise.’
‘I love you.’
‘I'll be back in two years.’
A whirlwind of moments together, of her words, that had him just barely creasing the note.
The thought that she promised to come back quickly buried away as he, for the first time, unfolded the note he's kept all these years without her by his side.
‘Dear Yuan,
I have drafted this letter over ten times now and I can't quite seem to get the beginning of this right, so I think it's best just to get into the thick of things. You agree, yes? I hope you do.
I'm sure the news of what has happened (or is about to happen, if you're looking from my point of view) has reached you now. Is this a shock beyond words or did a part of you know this was going to happen? We do tend to let our unconscious selves be quieted and hushed away by emotions. Such is the way of any sentient creature whose instincts do not drive them. But you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me this was not something you would fully deny being something I am capable of if you weren't driven right now by what I can only guess is…betrayal.
I didn't mean to be your first heartbreak, my Yuan. No, I never wanted that at all. I wanted things to stay just the way they were when you'd take that wooden sword of yours when Jingliu hadn't yet given you permission to wield a real one and chase me around with it because I teased you too much. Or maybe back when we would turn rocks over a day after it rained so we can try and find bugs together.
Oh Yuan, I could list countless moments I wish time had chosen to freeze us both in so this outcome never had to come to pass.
But it did.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry for my actions.’
The words ‘I can't afford to be’ were crossed out.
‘Do you remember that night when we snuck into the gardens? I do. Very well at that. I hope you do too, just for different reasons. That night to me was being with you, of enjoying our time, until you brought up the mara-struck. Those creatures that plague us all at the end of our lives like a withering flower bound to end up as nothing more than a husk of itself as its body is preserved much like that one I keep with a red ribbon tied around it (the one you gave me when you tried to ask me out like a bumbling mess) pressed between pages as it's currently being used as a bookmark. The abominations, they have made me realize something you might not have yet.
Maybe those three years I have on you really do mean more than I would care to admit. Maybe in three years time when you are at the age I am now you'll realize this for yourself too. This war is never going to end. This war will taint what is beautiful in the world. We were blessed to have a loll in the time we were growing up, but that is only because of the sacrifices of many given for such peace.
But still, many died when our eyes were blinded by youth.
And when the battles did come you were a guard on some street in the Luofu as I was called out of my dorm to treat the few men who came back from their efforts in the middle of the night. Blearly, I was lacking sleep, but I did my job just as I always have. That is what I told myself when I had to dissect my first body at the age of fifteen. ‘Do your job, girly’ despite the fact I was surrounded by those older than me and even they cringed as Haize yanked some pubic hair from a corpse to store into a plastic bottle for proper collection.
It took a while for them to forget this thing before them, this hunk of meat, was dead and therefore couldn't feel pain. It took me a while too.
Back to the men…They would come in covered in blood, scratches that were left by creatures I never would have dreamed of existing before until they told me about them as I figured out all on my own how to detach a chewed up limb from a man without making it too painful.
They still passed out in the end.
One day you will know war, you will know what it's like to be on the battlefield for more than a skirmish, you will know the smell of the dead as all their bowels release and the smell of shit fills the air, just as I do now after having been called to be a medic in those poorly put up tents behind the fighting men.
Yet I don't want people to have to know about war. I don't want you to know about war despite you jumping at every chance to prove yourself as a Cloud Knight. I don't want those people of Yaguoret to know about war as we descended on their planet. But it is inevitable. They are a poor people who know little of what to do with the land they possess, and we are a civilization that sees their planet for the resources it has.
It was already discussed after the first talks with the people there after they turned away our offers of trade that they needed to be…wiped out.
Children, mothers, fathers who can't even put up a proper fight, let alone to a Cloud Knight.
So if you are wondering if I killed our men, the very people we talked with in the mess hall, or annoyed on the training grounds, or that I bandaged in the past, then I have to tell you I will.
They won't survive, of course they won't. What kind of prodigy would I be if I couldn't make a simple poison that would properly kill a man? Or a good hundred.
Sorry, I shouldn't be making jokes now. Force of habit.
There will be no war if the people trying to make a war are dead.
There is no way to enact change without sacrifices. That is how medicine is made. First someone must come to you with an issue, a sickness, and it is their loss of life that allows you to test the boundaries of this illness.
But that doesn't change the fact that I will soon become a murderer.
Somehow I am calm, at ease, yet the most scared I have ever been in my life.
But I have cast aside my alchemy commission uniform. Green never was my color.
I am no longer a healer. A murderer cannot claim that title.
So, as I said before, I won't apologize for my actions, but I'm sorry I had to face this world before you did, to come to my own conclusions. I can't help but wonder if I was younger, if I didn't have those three years on you, if we could find our own conclusions together. Ones that we could support side by side that wouldn't result in this.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is-’
And the last words, with a dried teardrop smearing the letters so they were barely legible as Jing Yuan had to narrow his eyes to read.
‘I am sorry I grew up without you.’
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slushycoookie · 3 days
Text
Roleplay Date ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Content: You and Miguel do some roleplay, mostly fluff, starts to get suggestive occasionally and near the end, MINORS DNI!!
A/N: Wanted to do a quick idea of you doing a role-play date with Miguel! Enjoy!
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He should be here any minute now.
The time on your phone was your favorite thing to look at when you stepped into the bar. You tried to relax with a sip of your margarita, the slightly sour taste of apple dancing across your palate, but your mind kept wandering. How was this going to go? Would it be awkward? Or would it fail if someone tried to steal your man? You had a few other people try to talk to you while you sat but to your relief, disappeared when they saw you weren't that interested.
You had no reason to be nervous. Couples go on role-play dates all the time. You read their ideas and their experiences. It should be fun.
Thirty minutes passed and you saw your husband.
You caught your breath at his change of appearance. A green cardigan, with the top button undone. His white pants contrasted in color but somehow worked well with his black suede loafers. Miguel looked good. You always knew he could be, but this was a little different. You tried not to gawk as you sipped your drink again, pretending the menu was more interesting than anyone else. He wasn't too far from your seat but you caught a whiff of his cologne, earthy with sharp hints of mint. It's one you've never smelled before.
Miguel ordered a rum and coke as you tried to decide what to eat. Maybe some sliders? Or there was a sampling platter you could try. But you also saw sushi on the menu.
“Hi.”
You perked up, heart banging in your chest as you turned to him. He was even better up close. And…did he change his hair? It was parted to the side, not slicked back like his usual style. Miguel usually changes his hair on special occasions. You tried to hold back admiring his brown curls shining in the dim light as you remembered he spoke to you.
“Hi.” A light smile appeared on your face.
“Do you come here often?”
You bit your lip, wondering if you two should have developed a script. But you wanted the interaction to be natural since it's the first time roleplaying like this. “No, I don’t. This is my first time.”
“Alone?” Miguel raised an eyebrow as you nodded, “Someone like you shouldn’t be alone on a night like this.”
Curious, you played with your straw by swirling it in your drink, “What's someone like me?”
“Gorgeous.”
He was eyeing your outfit. A simple black dress that gave much attention to your cleavage. Paired with small matching black heels. You weren't the type to wear this sort of thing but you wanted to try something new. And give your husband something to stare at.
Your poker face was impenetrable, despite wanting to forget everything and immediately go into the hotel room. “You're gonna have to do better than that.”
Miguel smirked before signaling to the bartender that he would pay for anything you wanted for the rest of the night. She gave you a look to make sure you agreed and you nodded. He motioned to the seat beside you and you invited him to stay.
“I’m Miguel.” You gave him yours and he said it as if he’s never said it before. A tingle shot through your spine. “May I ask why you decided to go to the bar tonight?”
“I wanted a drink.” You shrugged, “And I heard this hotel was nice.”
“It is.” He took a sip of his drink, eyes never far from yours.
“Oh? You’ve been here before?”
“Many times. I’ve always been satisfied with the service when I go here on business.”
You hum in delight, “So you’re a businessman?”
“Not quite.” He gives a soft chuckle, “I’m a scientist, that unfortunately has to go on business trips.”
You knew that part about him. He always hated going on trips because that meant he’d be away from you. “What do you specialize in?”
“Genetics.” You had to hold back in smiling hard, seeing his eyes light up at any mention of his work. The conversation was interrupted momentarily when the bartender asked what you wanted to eat. You and Miguel decided to share a sushi platter with an assortment of flavors each of you could try.
And your margarita was also gone, so you decided to get a daiquiri, wanting something a little bit sweeter to combat the sourness you had.
“So you’re a geneticist?” You asked, picking the conversation back up, “That’s fascinating. I’ve never met any geneticists. Especially ones as good-looking as you. Must be in your genes.”
A flash of your husband came out as Miguel’s eyes lowered at your terrible joke. Even you snorted at your words. “Funny. So I’m guessing your profession is a comedian.”
“No way.” You shook your head, “Not by a long shot.”
“Thank god.”
You gasped, pretending to be insulted while watching him hold back a laugh behind his straw. “Rude.”
“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t have high hopes in your career after that joke.”
The air was light and comfortable. Any semblance of nervousness you had previously faded away. That could've just been the alcohol though.
“So since you specialize in genetics, you know all the good stuff. Punnett squares, why people with blue eyes are rare, that sort of thing.”
Miguel nodded, “Usually we're able to find all of your genetic markings through your blood.”
“I'm not scared of getting my blood drawn.” You confidently say, “You think you'd find anything good in my genes?”
He hums in thought, moving closer to slide his hand up your bare forearm, placing his thumb between your arm and bicep. His touch was warm, almost burning your skin up. “Maybe. As long as you hold still.”
“Only if you're gentle.” You let out a low sigh. Your husband staring directly into your eyes, rubbing his thumb against your skin. You're so close to fast-forwarding this date and getting in his pants.
It was to your luck that the food came, causing you and him to part so you could dine in. Husband mode came back as he handed you the wasabi. Your lips curled, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of it when he accidentally put a huge smear on his roll, eating it whole. You pictured his eyes tearing up and his face scrunching up was hilarious.
“You don't like wasabi?”
Miguel’s head shook with disdain, “Not a fan. It's too hot for my tastes.”
“That's because you put too much on there when you shouldn’t have-” You immediately shut your lips, trying to fix your words. “I mean, plenty of people put a lot on there. It’s a common mistake.”
He ignored your slip up, “Then can you show me how much is adequate for me?”
“Of course.” You took a little piece using your chopsticks, placing it on his sushi roll as if it were delicate. You watched as he ate the piece, shoulders lowered in satisfaction. “See, not that hot right?”
“Not at all.” He then asked about your job which you proceeded to describe as boring. Not as exciting as his geneticist one. While you did so, Miguel kept showing his husband side, making sure you had your fill. As he listened intently. The stranger façade started to fade as you two were starting to act like a married couple again. You’re sure anyone from a mile away could see it.
But you didn’t care. You were full, mind a little clouded from the alcohol and the night was winding down. The time on your phone was almost eleven at night.
Miguel slipped his black card to the bartender, paying for the meal and drinks. You gazed at his form, not believing that you were married to this man.
“Do you have a ride home?” He asked. You knew he made arrangements to book a room at the hotel, but knowing him he’d wanted to make sure the date ended on a satisfying note.
“I’m looking at it.”
His eyes went wide at the flirtatious line for a moment. “Bold, are we?”
“Maybe.” Your playful smirk drew him closer as he leaned into your ear.
“You can ride me in our room.”
You two sped walk towards the elevator. Miguel’s finger repeatedly pressed the down button to make it go faster. Your body was hot, breathing speeding up as you couldn’t hold on much longer. You never knew how slow elevators were when its doors creaked open. The two of you rushed inside and once it was closed, were immediately on each other.
Hot breaths, messy kisses, and hands groping every single part of your bodies filled the space. The cold steel wall was felt on your back as Miguel trapped you, his hard body pressed against your own. He hiked up your leg to wrap around his waist while sucking on your neck. Creating a few marks on your skin.
The dings from the elevator going up were the only thing keeping you together. Otherwise, you were sure he was going to fuck you inside.
“Wait.” Miguel parted, his face stained from your lipstick, hair messy from the exchange. “Do you have your ring?”
You nodded, getting it from your purse. Before you could put it on, he did it for you, slipping it through your ring finger where it belonged. He grabbed his own from his pocket, before slipping it on.
“That’s better.”
Just in time, the elevator stopped on your floor. Miguel picked you up with ease and dashed to the room to continue where you left off.
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Green
Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.
Masterlist Playlist
Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.
“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.
“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper. 
“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”
You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned. 
You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit. 
“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.
“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”
“Oh yeah?” You sit back. 
“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”
“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.
“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”
You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel. 
“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke. 
“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”
You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.
“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”
“Oh really?” 
“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit. 
“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”
Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level. 
“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest. 
“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.
“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt. 
Fuck, now that feels amazing. 
“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint. 
He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.
“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”
You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out. 
You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated. 
“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”
You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?
You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.
“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.
“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.
He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard. 
“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back. 
“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers. 
“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips. 
“Mm.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.
“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”
“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.” 
You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”
“Yeah? What do you like the most?”
“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.
“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”
“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.” 
“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"
Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”  
“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him. 
“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight.  Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”
A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession. 
“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”
You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 
You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”
“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters. 
“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel. 
You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror. 
“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.
“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel. 
“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”
“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.
“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.” 
You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror. 
“Take your shirt off.”
You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head. 
“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out. 
The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.
“Wh—“ 
“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.” 
He looks a little annoyed, you like that. 
“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”
Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.
“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror. 
Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.
“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.” 
Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.
“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table. 
“Good. Feel better?” 
He nods.
“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.” 
He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you. 
Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way. 
“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request. 
Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you. 
“Thank you.” 
Another nod. 
You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”
This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.
“Then come stand here in front of me.” 
You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you. 
You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.
“Now, drink it up,” you order.
He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.” 
Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.
Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.
“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.
“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?” 
Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet. 
“Face the mirror again Joel.”
He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name. 
“Touch yourself for me Joel.” 
His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command. 
“Stroke yourself for me.” 
He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.
You wonder when the last time he did this was.
“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.” 
“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again. 
Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more. 
“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.” 
Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours. 
“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race. 
You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller. 
“Stop,” you bark out. 
He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself. 
“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?” 
Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod. 
“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”
“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter. 
“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.” 
He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you. 
You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands.  This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. 
“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his. 
You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?” 
Joel shudders and furiously nods.
“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”
A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing. 
You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it. 
“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.” 
He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it. 
“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?” 
Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin. 
“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”
“Yes.”
“What do you like?” 
“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.
“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit. 
Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.
“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him. 
You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him. 
Joel grumbles as you stand back up. 
“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it. 
He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.
“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.
His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him. 
“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.
“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness. 
“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.
“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.
“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it. 
“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.
“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”
Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this. 
“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”
Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now. 
You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you. 
“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.
You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you. 
A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation. 
He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples. 
“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”
High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering. 
“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut. 
You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.
Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake. 
“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat. 
You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.
You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe. 
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d10nyx · 2 days
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HEY NOW, YOU'RE AN ALL-STAR - LEON S. KENNEDY
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ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
a/n: commission for the lovely @nexysworld :3 ft. my fave creation, shrekeon. you guys are in for a treat trust me x
cw: 18+ content, fluff, depictions of alcohol, drunk!leon, dressing up, costume sex, p in v, creampie, bad puns, laughing during sex, implied age gap, size difference + size kink
word count: 1.7k words
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In hindsight, introducing your boyfriend to Shrek was definitely not in your top ten for stupid ideas. You'd told him it was a crime to be nearly forty without seeing the movie – and rightfully so. He was an old man at heart, barely having seen a movie past the nineties. You thought you were righting an injustice. Shrek was a movie for everyone, no matter their age. It held up, even years later. You were pretty sure everyone had seen this movie, but then again, your boyfriend could barely even work a smartphone, so you shouldn't be entirely surprised.
The only thing you hadn't quite anticipated how much he'd like it. Leon spent most of the movie cackling like a maniac. Whether that was from the half-bottle of whiskey he downed or the movie itself, you weren't sure. Either way, what was meant to be a light-hearted movie night led you to where you were now – tipsy and laughing at your boyfriend's Shrek getup in his bedroom at nearly midnight.
When you finally manage to catch your breath, you let your eyes trail over to the costume he had laid out on the bed for you. Sexy Farquaad. That alone is enough to send you into another fit of giggles, your brows raising as you look over at him.
“Leon? We are so breaking up.” Your hands lift up the red costume, your eyes flicking between Leon, then back at the outfit. You eye up the wig, barely managing to suppress a smile. Idiot. “Shouldn't I at least be Fiona?”
“Shut up.” He says between drunken giggles, adjusting the headband on his head so it sits properly, grinning at you as the green ears poke out through his hair. “You're smaller. Farquaad suits you, babe. You can pull anythin’ off.”
Your gaze flicks over to Leon as he adjusts the headband, and you can't help but snort out a laugh, letting your gaze trail his body to take in the whole outfit. Fake belly and everything. You don't even wanna know how much he paid for the costumes. Drunk Leon should not be allowed anywhere near a computer. His spending habits while intoxicated seemed to be getting worse and worse. “Jesus. There's no way you're not pulling my leg.”
“I'm being so serious. You don't wanna make me mad, baby, or it'll… it'll be ogre for you.”
Another laugh, and you reach up to playfully flick one of his ears, shaking your head. “I hate you. You're ridiculous.”
“You gotta give me love’s first kiss to get me back to Leon, baby. If you don't, I'm gonna be stuck like this.” He says with a grin, leaning towards you with his lips puckered. “Don't make me do the accent.”
“God. Please, not the accent.” You say between giggles, looping your arms around his neck to tug him closer, a stupid smile gracing your features. “I'll do anything you want, just please, not the accent.”
“Anything, huh? You gonna put on that sexy ‘lil costume for me?” He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you. His lips meet yours as he places his hands on your waist, tugging you closer to his body. His tongue brushes against your lower lip until you part them, but then he's pulling away from you.
“Leon? What… come on, babe.” You whine, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss him, but he's quick to place a finger against your chest to stop you from advancing further, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
“Not a chance, sweetheart. I didn't get all dressed up for you to take it easy. You want me to dive into that swamp of yours? Costume goes on.”
You shoot him a glare that can only be described as murderous, but all he does is grin wider, looking between the costume and you. With a dramatic sigh, you pick up the costume and make your way towards the bathroom with the plan of changing into it. When you return to the bedroom, Leon's lounging back casually on the bed with his arms behind his bed, still in the Shrek outfit. He lets out a low whistle, tilting his head to the side.
“Damn. You're looking shreksy, babe.”
“No.” You reply quickly, making your way over to the bed.
“Shrektacular?” 
“Absolutely not.”
“Work with me here, angel. I only have so many Shrek puns at my disposal, y'know?” He says cheekily, patting his lap. Another deep, irritated exhale leaves you as you settle, placing your palms firmly on his chest.
“Atta girl. Red might be your colour. Hottest evil little Lord I've ever seen.” He teases, his hands coming up to adjust the hat resting atop your head. He lets out a soft giggle once more, his eyes trailing down your body. His hands reach up to thread through your hair, and then he's pulling you into another kiss.
It doesn't take you long to get into it, the taste of whiskey filling your mouth as his tongue sloppily meets yours as he licks into your mouth. He pulls you closer so you're pressed flush against him, his hips rocking up against you. He slowly starts to harden, his hands grasping your hips to make you grind down against him.
Your little moans are swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. He reaches between your legs, grabbing the fabric of the costume and tearing it open, just enough for him to be able to slip a few fingers past the cloth to gather your wetness before circling your sensitive nub.
He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, pulling his hand away to pull the brown trousers down enough to free his cock. He gives it a few languid pumps before lining up with your entrance, sinking into your tight heat with a low groan of pleasure.
“Thought you weren't into this, baby? ‘Cause you acted like it, but you're soaking me already, and I haven't even started fucking you yet.” He breathes out, his brows furrowing as he leisurely starts to thrust up into you.
All you can manage is a low whine, your hands grasping the brown vest of his costume, your head hanging as you feel his cock rub against your sweet spot, the hat falling off your head and dropping on the bed next to the both of you. “Leon… shut… shut up.”
“Aww, sweetheart. You don't like it when a big, strong ogre explores all your… fuck… layers?” He huffs out, his voice coming out a little breathless as he grabs your waist. His large hands grip you easily, using his strength to drag you up and down on his cock, controlling the pace of each of your movements.
You let out an annoyed whine, your eyes squeezing shut as you bounce your hips against his, trying to focus on the familiar feeling of your boyfriend's cock filling you up. You feel him shaking slightly, and you crack your eyes open only to see the asshole is trying to suppress another fit of laughter at your reaction.
“You are such a dick.” You grunt, grinding his cock deep inside of you until you hear Leon gasp and moan, the smirk instantly getting wiped from his face. You smile in triumph, but it's short-lived as he finds yet another pun to annoy you with.
“Better in you than out - that's what I always say.” Your hips falter as you groan, and Leon uses that as an opportunity to flip both of you over, hooking your ankles over his shoulders so he can pound you into the mattress. The cushion of the fake stomach smacks against your thighs with every thrust, and Leon's fake ears become skewed as he throws his head back in pleasure.
He seems to forget all about feeding you shitty puns as he buries himself to the hilt with every thrust, the new position allowing him to kiss your cervix every time he pushes forward. He can barely think with your cunt sucking him in, drenching him with your arousal. All you can do is whimper as he pistons into you, your body jerking up with the strength of his movements. Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of the white shirt he's wearing.
“Leon… m'close…” You breathe out, your back arching off the bed. He lets out a deep moan in response, pressing his hips flush against your ass so he can grind his pelvis against your clit, giving you the extra simulation needed to push you over the edge. You cry out his name as you cum, your walls clenching down around his length. 
Leon pulls back slightly to thrust shallowly into you a few more times before he follows behind you, his release making his thighs tremble slightly. He shoots thick white ropes of cum deep into your tight walls, his breaths coming out in short gasps. He collapses against you after a moment, his cock softening inside of you before he pulls out, tucking you against his side.
“This costume is making me sweat.” He grunts after a few moments of cuddling up to you, pressing his lips to your forehead before standing up, his joints cracking as he stretches. He holds out a hand towards you, giving you a slightly sleepy smile. 
“C'mon, my little all-star. Let's get you in the bath. Maybe we can cuddle up after, and you can show me Shrek 2 tonight?” At the sight of you face palming, he lets out a loud chuckle, slipping his arms under your body so he can cradle you against his chest, carrying you over to the bathroom.
“C'mon, baby. I promise not to dress up as Shrek again. Maybe next time I'll be real nice and get that prince's costume.” He teases, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You pull your hands away from your face to glare at him, and he gives you a grin that you know means trouble. “Just kidding, sweetheart.”
You both know he isn't.
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gyomei · 3 days
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OBJECTIVE: FUCK FUSHIGURO TOJI
・SYNOPSIS: what started off as two friendly workers transpires into something more when toji asks you out for a couple of drinks one night. and when the two of you agree that your sexual relationship would be nothing more, both of your hearts and emotions yearn for the inevitable ( 3.2k words )
・CONTENT WARNINGS: minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact ! afab!reader (she/her) paramedic!toji & nurse!reader, recreational alcoholic consumption, situationship to lovers. smut content: cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, not proofread.
・SIDE NOTE. here's the very first installation of fuck, marry, kill. and i don't know, i was heavily feeling paramedic!toji. like... mmmyeah ! 😋
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The double doors to the hospital entrance opens upon the men wheeling in the gurney, pushing the poor patient in a hurry. The chill upon entering, while not foreign, still makes Toji shiver as he bustles inside. His veins protrude deeply from his hands as the receptionists open the locked doors without question as one of the paramedics stays behind to check in the newfound patient. The crowded waiting area watches as the once moderate volume spikes up with the gurney wheels as the heavy and rushed footsteps of the men.
Pale yellow walls before the site of desks and nurses heading from one station to the next, Toji’s eyes dart until he sees just who exactly he wants. And just to his pleasure, you’re already looking at him. All men come to a halt, the gurney slowing down as you make a beeline in Toji’s direction. Your arms open up and the taller man doesn’t need to question exactly what you want. 
Arriving at the scene, the sight was a gruesome mess. Blood everywhere as the victim was clearly struggling with their aggressor. It took the police awhile to find it, but they managed to snag out the ID. 
“Gojo Satoru—” Toji recites from the top of his head, yet still handing the small rectangular plastic to you nonetheless. “Twenty-eight year old Asian male. Fatal stabs to his chest, nearly piercing his heart and right lung. He’s in a stable condition right now, and the only contact that we can get for him is a close friend in his contact— Geto Suguru.”
“Gosh!” You can’t help but breathe out, eyes widening as you’re typing in the information into the computer. Though Toji’s giving you a verbatim of the individual’s information, you look over the ID to make sure you have everything correct. Strikingly white hair that seems unreal and blue eyes that are so magnetic and captivating, you can’t help but feel for the young man. 
“I know right,” Toji sighs, sharing your same sentiment. “Heard it was about a vengeful ex or something? Don’t know, but that’s what the cops are speculating right now.”
“Well, I hope whoever did it receives ten times worse,” you breathe, submitting the information as you take a stand. You stretch, hearing the cracks of your muscles as you let out a soft yawn. You feel the eyes of Toji on you as you turn, directing more of your attention to him.
“Careful,” Toji warns in jest, the corners of his lips curving upwards as his eyes light up in amusement. “You might have to be the nurse assigned to caring for them.”
You chuckle at that, slipping yourself out from behind your desk. The patient has already been assigned and brought to a vacant room. You’re dressed in a pair of turquoise blue scrubs, going nice with your skin tone. Toji has just a few more minutes to spare before he has to run off again into the ambulance. Really, he should be heading back now, but he wants to spend a bit more time in your company while he can.
“What time d’ya get off tonight, hm?” he asks. “I’ve got three more hours.”
An eyebrow spikes as you glance over at the taller man. Green eyes that always seem to dance with humor and the scar on the left corner of his lip still standing vastly visible as he grins, expectant of your answer. You snort at how unbelievable this man can be at times. “You’re asking me out after telling me about a severely harmed patient? Do you know nothing about timing?” 
“Hey,” Toji throws his hands up to defend himself. “We see the gnarliest of shit everyday. We have to stay sane somehow.”
Well, he’s not wrong on that part. Most nights you just head straight home, take a quick shower and go to bed. Your work days can be rough within the emergency room as you have many different people come into the hospital. All different kinds of problems and different lifestyles all seeking help from you, the other nurses and doctors. If you didn’t immediately fall asleep once hitting the bed, sometimes your mind would wander and a recap of the day would play in your head. 
You shouldn’t get attached to the people that come in and tell you about their issues and why exactly they’re in the emergency room, but at times you find yourself slipping and you just can’t help yourself. You can’t and refuse to harden your heart, not wanting to be immune to emotion. Every time you find yourself dwelling on the patients you come across, you find yourself slowly losing your sanity. Toji’s right.
“I have the next four hours here, then I’m free,” you finally answer his question before turning on your heel to leave. “I suggest you hurry back before they have your ass again.”
“Again?” Toji snorts, an eyebrow cocking upwards, but he does take a step back in the opposite direction towards the exit. “They never had it.”
You ignore that statement, instead saying, “The longer you stand here stalling, the slower time goes.” And it’s enough to get Toji out of the building. 
Toji doesn't like to drink. On the contrary to his looks, he finds the beverage to be grimacing. Some weren't as bad as the others, but no one could ever convince him to drink willingly. So, while you have a glass of bourbon, he nurses water. And while your drink makes your face sour when he doesn't, both of you need this.
It's a Wednesday night and the both of you— on your weird schedules— don't have work tomorrow. The bar is fairly empty; no more than eleven people in tonight, not counting the lonely bartender. The two of you sit down on stools, listening to the mellow music playing overhead on the speakers as a couple enjoys their company on the dancefloor. Toji’s eyes are on them, fixated as he envies them. 
Envies the look in their eyes, dark bags underneath them but the love is so evident. Envies the tight hold they have on each other as they sway to the music, how their bodies seem to mesh with one another. He envies the intimacy that they hold, but if anyone were to ask him when he was going to settle down or if he was ready to be in a relationship, he'd immediately say no. 
And it's not exactly like he's lying. He's not ready to be in a relationship and he's not someone desperate that he needs to be in one. But, he's been yearning recently. Yearning after this one someone that makes him seek what the couple before him has. 
“Ugh,” you gulp down the remaining content of your glass. “I need another one.” That was your second glass.
“No, you don't,” Toji immediately states, intervening when you turn around to beckon for the bartender. Grabbing the empty glass, the employee looks from you to Toji, trying to decide just who to listen to. You just had two glasses. 
Toji shoots the young man a glare, subtly shaking his head and making him walk away. Groaning when the bartender walks away, you spin in your chair and shoot daggers into Toji. Those eyes, they try to intimidate, but Toji can only smirk in amusement as he fixes himself in his seat again. 
“I thought we came here to relax,” you slump into your chair. “You invited me here tonight, but you're not letting me drink?”
“You're driving home, aren't you?” Toji asks rhetorically. “Plus, do you really wanna spend your day off nursing a hangover instead of actually enjoying it?”
You don't like how his voice drops. He's being serious, but the way your body reacts isn't. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes gloss with a hint of lust. However, you hold yourself up as you contemplate his words. He's got a point. You don't want to waste your day off with a headache and whining about the discomfort you're in. 
Pressing the balls on your feet on the wooden plank of the stool, you shift in your seat and ready to surrender when Toji drops lower into your space. Lips pricking against the shell of your ears and you can feel his breath against you. 
“I'd rather have you waste it with me,” he hums out a ‘hm’ at the end. “Rather have you in your right mind than be more intoxicated.”
You should be used to his flirtatious remarks, but sometimes he catches you off guard. Speechless, your tongue goes dry as you immediately forget about what you were going to say. Your mouth opens and closes, looking like a fish gasping for water. At this, Toji can't help but smirk, sliding off the bench with ease as he slides the nearly empty glass in the direction of the bartender. “I'll pay for the tab. Let's go.”
He takes your hand and you can feel the rough texture of his calloused palms and fingers, something that you’ve come to get used to and adore. You don’t say anything else, simply following behind him as he leads you out the bar. 
— 
Sometimes you believe that you deserve more than what Toji gives you. That you deserve someone that isn’t afraid to commit. Then, you rationalize everything, realizing that you’re asking for something that you also can’t devote to. Long schedules and when you have free time, you spend it sleeping or tending to duties and tasks that you need to cross off your checklist. So, you take what you can get. After all, you also agreed to this arrangement. 
Legs hiked up and pushed into your chest, your knees pressed against your breasts as Toji hums against your decadent pussy. Folds that gloss like porcelain as he laps at it. Saliva intermingling with your arousal, your slick juices staining your inner thighs and dripping down the crevices of your arousal. Your breathing is erratic with the tight hold he has you in, legs bound to be aching when he’s finally done with you. Tears stain the corners of your eyes as you look down at the brute of a man below you, green eyes that meet yours with visceral hunger evident in them. 
He groans, adjusting his position to only push you higher on your bed as he psychs himself to believe that he’s deeper inside you. Both hands that were holding down your legs become one, strong enough to hinder your movement with only one as his arms. His free one now traverses down to your heat, pulling away for a second for his thumb to press down to your clit and rub it. His eyes become hooded as he takes a moment to watch just how your pussy responds to him. And when he looks up at you once more, loving the way your cheeks are stained with tears as your golden skin glows from the sweat beading down your temple. Your mouth opens in a small o-shape and he’s reminded that he’s the one that has you like this. 
There’s something residing on his chest that he can’t quite identify the name of. He just has this longing to please you— to make you feel good. He groans once more, inserting a finger inside your entrance as his lips wrap around your clit. From the sudden intrusion, your body tenses up as the fingers that were clinging to your soft sheets become entangled in Toji’s dark locks. “Fffuck! Toji, I— I—”
You don’t know what you were going to say, the words tangling up inside your mouth as you feel a second finger inside of you. His thick digits stretch you out, leading you to gnaw on your bottom lip instead as a strangled mewl escapes you. Toji chuckles, vibrations being shot straight through your body. 
“I love the way your body responds to me,” his deep voice reverberates in the sex-soaked bedroom. “I love the fact that I can make you get like this.”
Fingers plunging deep inside you until he can't see them, he stills his movements as he lets go of your legs and climbs up to meet your lips. Engulfing them, he swallows those beautiful sounds you make, turning them muffled. His digits curl inside of you simultaneously, feeling your thighs clamped around his hand as he does so. Your walls pulsate around them, feeling that familiar stir within your stomach as Toji still has your lips in a hold. 
A high-pitched whine escapes you, fingers traversing the length of his body and getting rougher as you feel your orgasm nearly approaching. You don't have to tell him verbatim that you're about to cum, he knows your body better than you do.
Drilling his fingers inside you, it's no battle against him and your tight walls. He grounds himself on the bed, his erection pressing into your sheets more as he pulls away from your lips and focuses on your pussy. 
He watches how his fingers plunge in and out, your juices dripping down from the crevices and to the palm of his hand. Oh, how you make such a mess of him. It brings a cocky smile on his face. And when you finally release, it’s even bigger, staining the sheets underneath you in a milky white that contrasts your skin. Your legs tremble as he thrusts into you one, two, three more times before pulling out. 
His fingers are coated in your slick release, and he doesn’t hesitate to suck them clean. Your eyes meet him at the ministration, a heavy hum that falls from his chest that has your aching legs clenching and begging for more. With a breathy voice as you bring your hands to tangle in his hair, calling for his attention. Your eyes gloss with lust, widening as your bottom lip juts out as you tug him closer to you. “Want you in me,” you breathe. “Please.”
Usually, Toji would prolong this, have you beg for him or tease you relentlessly. However, those eyes of yours… And there’s a hunger that he shares with you that tells him not to wait any longer. With his chest bare for your wandering eyes, he reaches down to tug off his pants, making his erection more prominent than before. It still makes your heart jolt in anticipation and slight fright. Your body seems to react on its own, legs involuntarily spreading as you scoot closer to him. Your bottom lip perched in between your teeth, you gnaw on it as Toji doesn’t need to be told twice. He wants you just as bad as you him, 
Thick and heavy length that plants in between your folds, his pre-cum makes his length glisten in the dim lighting of your bedroom and with your soaked pussy, it only adds to it. With a few fingers, he spreads your lips open, plopping his mushroom tip against the entrance to only rub against it. So much for not being a tease, he snorts to himself. He just loves the look of his cock sliding against your sweet cunt. It’s a sight he’s embedded in his mind when he’s not with you.
You whine, however, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more. Again, he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, a mixture of his pre and your release intermingling with each other. With a thumb, he presses down on your clit before slowly entering you. The intrusion is always a delicious pain that you enjoy, you shamelessly moan as your arms wrap around the expanse of his broad shoulders. 
Ignoring the ache of your legs, you bring them to hold onto his hips as Toji grunts, always enjoying that slight flutter of your pussy upon his entering. 
“Shit,” he curses, a sigh following it. “This pussy always feels so good no matter how much I stretch it out.”
It's your turn to drag him into a kiss, creating a wet sound to follow it as he bottoms out inside you. You can feel his eyes on you, traveling down the course of your body and you don't know why you thought it was normal in a relationship like yours. This complication of not having a name for each other, but holding intimate moments where he maps out the span of your body to memorize it. More than a simple situationship should. 
That when he shares the utmost concern for you; when he asks questions that show more than polite concern when he comes across you at work; and when he stays a couple of more minutes to show you a little more care than he should; you don't know why you thought that was normal. 
He takes the time (when he can) to take you out— even if it's just a bar. To treat you more than someone he sees to fuck even if it is the end game. This isn't normal. 
And while he drills into your pussy, chasing after ecstacy, you can barely get out a coherent word let alone a thought, but you know that you're not mixing lust with love. You think you're falling— no, you know you're falling in love. So when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, you don't care about the possible repercussions. “Come— come inside me.”
He halts for a moment, never thinking he'd get the chance to do this. But when your glassy eyes open once more, he sees the certainty in them as you give him a little nod, “Do it. I'll take a pill.”
You milk his cock, a white ring forming around the base as he feels that same shudder of your legs from before as your mouth fixates back into that o-shape. You cry out, but it's cut short as Toji’s lips crash into yours. Quick squeaks that fly from your mouth instead, Toji can't help but chuckle at the sounds before he pulls away and those hazel eyes back on you. I love you. 
That's all he has left to say, but of course, the words never leave his lips.
Your eyes are hooded, but you don't dare give into sleep. Toji's still resting in the bed beside you, eyes transfixed on you. Quirking an eyebrow, you nudge him with your finger. “What's on your mind?”
The corner of his lips twitches, but it's not to smile. Moreso a motion of questioning, contemplating if he should say anything at all. However, your curiosity kills, eyes squinting down as you inch closer to him. Your bare body presses closer. “C’mon,” you poke. “Say it.”
“Do you want more than this?” He asks, eyes becoming serious as he stares down at you. Your mouth goes dry because you think you know what he's asking exactly. Do you want more than… this? However, you feign ignorance.
“M-more than what?” You breathe, your stammer betraying you as Toji immediately calls your bullshit. His head tilts to the side, a knowing gaze on you. 
“More than what I'm offering,” he continues to say nonetheless. “More than just meaningless fucking. Do you want to make this official?”
Your voice is barely above a whisper as you start to wonder if it's a trick question. If you answer, will he automatically end things? “Is that what you want?” There's a faint nod— one that has you taken aback. Still, you feel a surge of confidence when you immediately respond, “Then, yes.”
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one (1) notification from gyomei plays ! thank you so much for playing the first chapter of fuck, marry, kill. please give us a rating along with feedback about the gameplay. looking forward to seeing you on chapter two.
143 notes · View notes
joshhutchersonsgf · 2 days
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I NEED MIKE SCHMIDT TO DEGRADE ME (a smut)
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nsfw | mdni | gn!reader | dom!mike (omg?) | porn with little plot | unprotected sex | choking | degradation | lotssss of dirty talk | pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) | no use of y/n
mike’s new job was simple. he only has to worry about two things. all he has to do was keep the place tidy and keep people out.
he hated himself for losing his old job as a security gaurd at the mall because, despite not enjoying have to be in a loud, public space all the time, he grew fond of the people there.
he liked jeremiah. he didn’t get on his nerves the way most people do. talking to him kept him from getting lost in his thoughts, which he liked.
he also grew fond of cindy, the girl who works at the ice cream shop. sand he didn’t want to think of telling any she wouldn’t be able to get ice cream that much anymore, if at all.
mike sighs as he realizes he was trapped in his thoughts again. his mind was something that always kept him entertained for hours, but it also left a lingering pain in his chest when he thinks about what he could have done differently.
mike opens the door of his old, rusty car and stares at the pizzeria across the parking lot. this dump used to be a place for kids to hang out? mike wonders what the old building looked like before it shut down. he imagines he and garrett would have went there when they were kids, or maybe if it was still open to this day, he would have taken abby. he smiles at the thought of abby enjoying the arcade.
mike walks up to the double doors and glances around. he quickly found the security pad and types in the numbers raglan had told him.
a loud click came from the door when he clicks the green button on the security pad. he steps to his left and grabs one of the hands on the metal door, pulling it open.
the door creaks loudly as mike opens the door. he wishes more than anything he could turn around and get in his car, go home and forget any of this ever happened. but deep down he knew he had to do this for abby.
mike steps inside the mostly-unoccupied place and frowns. the room smells stale, and he can practically see the dust in the air. it was a creepy place, and mike wonders what the point is of watching a place no one has been inside in over 20 years.
mike didn’t see a point to a security job here, but he was thankful raglan was kind enough to give him the job. he didn’t like the man, but he was thankful he saw enough potential in him.
mike hears a loud slam from behind him and almost jumps out of his black sneakers.
“what the hell?” mike whisper-shouts, completely caught off gaurd.
mike turns around to see the door he left open now shut. must be an automatic door, mike thinks. he feels silly for getting so scared.
mike looks up at the posters on the walls, torn and scratched along the thin paper. the words read out “freddy fazbear’s pizzeria” at the top.
mike crosses the lobby and looks down the hallway in front of him. the hallway walls are painted in the same red-and-white stripes mike had seen in the lobby. they are also lined with large posters.
these posters, however, weren't pizzeria advertisements. they look like children’s art, similar to abby’s. some of the posters have images of pizzas and playing children. the rest of the posters feature portraits of odd-looking cartoon animals. one of the images was of a brown bear wearing a bow tie and a top hat. there was a bright yellow chick wearing a bib and holding a googly-eyed cupcake, a bluish-purple bunny gripping an electric guitar, and a fox wearing an eye patch and a hook on his hand.
“i should probably just find the office”, mike whispers to himself after examining the drawings. mike speed walks through the hallway and briefly looks around the main area, studying the purple curtained stage. he assumes that’s where people in costumes would perform, and he doesn’t dwell on the thought any longer.
mike continues through the eery building until he reaches a door he assumes leads to the office. mike sighs in relief as he lays his hands on the metal doorknob, thankful he was able to find it with ease.
mike turns the handle and pushes the door open, heart beating in his chest. the door creaks, much like the front door to the building, and he tenses up more than usual.
the office was dark, only dimly lit by a red bulb above a large breaker box. his senses are overwhelmed with the smell of sweat and blood.
mike’s nose twitches as he looks around the small office space. he decides he might as well get used to the smell and familiarize himself with the space, since he was going to be spending a lot of time in it.
the office was pretty vacant for the most part. it contains a long, narrow metal desk, which sat in front of a matching credenza. a small black fan and a landline phone next to an answering machine sat on it, as well as an old tv sitting on top of an equally old vcr, a desktop computer, and several cctv monitors, stacked on a rack at the back edge of the desk. two gray metal filing cabinets were pushed against the wall opposite the desk.
mike tries to ignore the feeling of anxiety that doesn’t seem to move from his stomach while he studies the room. he doesn’t like the long claw marks on the floor, they made him feel no better than the smell.
mike sighs and sits down in the old office chair, not surprised by it’s discomfort. he looks at the vhs tape in front of him titled “mike” and cocks an eyebrow.
it was going to be a long night, he thought to himself.
♡•♡•♡
the first hour of the night was pretty boring. occasionally, mike would flip through the cameras and scan the place, but for the most part, he just stayed in the office and watched the cameras.
mike glances at the clock on the wall in front of him and frowns.
“1:38” the clock reads.
“four more hours of this bullshit” mike groans, flipping through the cameras once more.
something caught his eye this time, though. in the main room, there was something moving under the tables. mike’s eyes almost pop out of his head when he notices.
mike brings his face closer to the computer and squints his eyes. as if the thing was mocking him, the movement stops.
“what the hell?” mike whispers, fully accepting he will be subconsciously talking to himself to fill the emptiness of the air.
mike gets up from the chair slowly and contemplates if he should find out what it is.
it’s probably nothing, mike thinks, but the thought that it could be something there, waiting to attack him, was keeping him still. mike feels silly for freaking himself out with children’s fantasies.
reluctantly, he grabs the flashlight and turns the knob on the door. when he steps into the hallway, the atmosphere seems to have shifted since an hour earlier, as now the earlier unoccupied area felt like someone is watching him.
mike grips the flashlight tightly and turns it on, surprised it works as well as it does. he slowly steps out of the hallway and into the main room, examining every detail of the disheveled place.
he checks under every table and finds nothing, relieved that nothing is there to get him. he continues searching though, making sure nothing is hiding.
he hears shuffling from behind him and practically jumps out of his skin. he spins around and flashes the light in the direction of the noise, seeing a figure scurry behind a trash bin.
mike‘s entire body is screaming at him to run out the front door and drive away, but of course, his curiosity got the best of him.
mike takes a small step forward and grips the flashlight tightly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his palm. he takes a few steps forward until he is only a few feet away from the trash bin and lets out a shaky breath.
“hello?” mike blurts out subconsciously. he slaps a hand over his mouth and fights his body’s urge to run. the thing shifts slightly, and mike hears some rustling.
if it is a killer, mike thinks to himself, now they know where i am.
he decides that he should just try to see what it is and hope it’s not someone (or something) trying to kill him.
mike creeps up to the trash can and pushes it to the side quickly, then jumping back before anything can attack him. instead, he’s met with the silhouette of a person with dark clothes on.
mikes eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of him, and he rubs his eyes quickly to make sure he’s not hallucinating. behind the trash can, you sit crouched over with your arms over your face, hand covering your mouth.
you wish more than anything that you could make a run for it, but you knew you wouldn’t get very far, considering you’ve already been running only moments earlier. so instead, you try to stay as still as possible, hand over your mouth, hoping that the security gaurd will mistake you for a shadow.
“i’m not stupid, you know,” a hoarse voice addresses you, “i can see you.
you tense up and try to think of any possible way to get out of here, despite the guard being three feet away from you. you move your hand away from your mouth and you chew at your bottom lip, taking a deep breath through your nose.
you finally accept defeat and lift your head up slowly. your open your eyes to be blinded by a bright light in your face and you cover your eyes in agony.
“can you get that shit out of my face, please?” you ask sarcastically, standing up and rubbing your eyes.
the security guard takes the light and points it at the ground, careful not to blind you.
“who the fuck are you and why are you here?” the man curses.
you take your hands away from your face and let your eyes adjust to the new light, examining the man in front of you.
you expect to see a gross old man, but instead you’re met with an attractive, young looking guy. you assume he’s in his late twenties, considering he still has childish features. his messy hair falls against his forehead and curls at the ends. his eyebrows form a crease against his forehead due to his eyebrows being pushed together in annoyance. if it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would have thought he was cute.
the man seems to be wondering what your next move is, because his big brown eyes won’t leave yours. you frown when you realize there’s no way to get out of this.
“i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you mutter, “this place is a dump.”
“tell me about it,” the man breathes out, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re here, does it?”
you try to think of any way you could lie your way out of this, but your mind draws a blank. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, deep in thought. you wish more than anything you could just crawl in a corner and die.
“i was trying to hide from the cops..” you whisper, looking at the ground.
“what?” the man questions, cocking an eyebrow.
“i was trying to hide from the cops.” you repeat, avoiding his gaze.
you look back up at the man to see him staring at you with an annoyed expression, tongue pressed against his cheek.
“what the hell did you do?” the man asks.
“please don’t call the police,” you plead and stand up while moving back against the wall, away from the man.
“why?” he questions and steps closer to you, “scared i’m going to do what i get paid to do?”
you frown when you hear his question, slowly regretting every decision you’ve ever made.
“look, im sorry okay..” you breathe out, looking at the floor, “i just really needed some money.”
the man does nothing. you look back up to see him already staring at you, face contorted into what you assume is anger. it’s hard to see him very well in the dark, but you see the man opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“are you going to tell the police?” you ask, scared you made the wrong decision of telling him the truth.
the guards eyebrows unfurrow for a moment, and you think he’ll actually let you go. then, he gives you the same expression he gave you earlier, only worse.
“you think i wanted this job?” he asks.
“huh?” you blurt out, his question completely catching you off guard.
“do you think i wanted this job?” he says again, looking around the dark room.
you follow his gaze and take a good look around the place as he shines the flashlight around the room. you didn’t even think to look at where you were going when you came inside, the only thing on your mind was not being found. suddenly, you feel a weird feeling in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have come here.
“no..” you whisper, staring at the half opened curtain on the stage.
“exactly,” the guard spits, “but i need money.”
a feeling of shame sits in the pit of your stomach when the guard speaks, and you wanted to cry. you look back to the man again and frown, wishing he would show you some sympathy.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, tears swelling at the brink of your eyelids.
you feel so ashamed right now, standing against the wall while a guard questions you while your eyes are moments away from spilling tears.
“sorry?” the man scoffs and grabs your arm, “sorry you got caught?”
you gasp and try to pull your arm away, but he only grips your skin tighter. he pulls you away from the wall and drags you through the room, despite you trying to break free from his grasp.
“what are you doing?” you cry out, following behind him while he holds you tightly.
the man doesn’t answer, instead pulling you through the hallway until you’re both standing face infront of a large, metal door.
“shit like this makes my job a whole lot harder,” the man groans, pushing open the door. a loud creak echoes through the hallway.
you examine the room through blurry vision. the office was pretty empty for the most part, besides the filing cabinets and desk with computers on them. you try to look for any way to escape before the police arrive. you look for a window, but all you see is a small vent across the room.
“why did you bring me here?” you ask the guard, fully expecting him to dial 911 on the phone that sits on the desk.
“well, i figured that if you don’t want me to call the police like i’m supposed to,” the man starts, letting go of your arm, “i’m sure you could just do my job for me?”
you furrow your eyebrows and frown at the man. you look back to the desk that sits at the end of the room and sigh. on the desk, you see a vhs tape that has “mike” scribbled on the side of it. you figure that is the man’s name. it fits him, you think.
“you want me to sit here and watch the security cameras?”
“that’s what i said, right?” the guard you assume is named mike mocks.
the way he was talking to you made you feel stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel turned on. you felt so ashamed for feeling the way you do about the security guard.
you stare blankly at mike while he awaits your answer that never comes as your mind rushes with thoughts of him doing all kinds of things to you. you felt like a horny teenager all over again.
“i asked you a question.” mike spits, getting obviously more annoyed with you, “what, you can’t think straight?”
you shake your head aggressively and frown, “i’m sorry, i’ll do it.”
mike smirks and grips your arm once more. he pulls you over to the chair but before you can sit down, he stops.
“what are you doing?” he asks, acting completely oblivious.
“um.. i was about to sit down?” you retort.
“aw, but,” he cocks an eyebrow, “this is my seat.”
“where am i supposed to sit?” you ask, confused.
mike sits down on the chair and pulls you by your arm until you’re right in front of him.
“why don’t you sit right here, hm?” he proposes, signaling your gaze to his lap.
you practically choke on your own spit at his words. did this hot man seriously just ask you to sit on his lap?
“what?” you sputter out, thinking you just heard him wrong.
mike smirks at you and pulls at your arm slightly, making you sit on his lap.
“how about this?” mike whispers against the shell of your ear.
oh. my. god. you weren’t sure if you were in heaven or hell. while you thought it was amazing that the hot security guard asked you to sit on his lap, you were also terrified of making any wrong move, incase he decided he was going to call the police.
you aren’t sure where to put your shaking hands, so you just decide to let them rest on your legs. you shift your body against his lap a few times, trying to get comfortable.
“jesus,” mike moans, “are you that fucking desperate?”
“what?” you ask, and your eyebrows furrow when you feel something hard against your ass. assuming it’s just the flashlight, you reach back to grab it from mike’s pocket. but when he throws his head back and lets out a moan, your hand quickly moves away and claps over your mouth.
“oh my god,” you mutter against your hand, barely audible. “i am.. so sorry.”
mike laughs and the sound sends a chill down your spine, “i’m not stupid, you know?”
before you can say anything, all the words you wanted to say fell from your tongue as mike runs his hands down your body. he lets his hands settle on your waist and you try not to scream. you felt so turned on that you thought you could explode. you try to focus on the cameras like you’re supposed to, but your mind kept running with thoughts of the man who’s lap you’re sitting on. his hard on pressing against the curve of your ass doesn’t make the situation any better, and you wish he could just fuck you already.
you subconsciously grind your hips down against mike’s, swallowing back a moan when he grunts in your ear, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”
you grind your hips down again as an answer and turn back to him, smiling. you find him already staring at you with eyes filled of lust and need, and for a moment, you feel scared. you felt so vulnerable with him, despite only not knowing him for long.
mike pushes you up off of his lap and stands up, pushing his bulge against your ass. your hips are pushed against the desk harshly and you were sure there would be bruises the next morning, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t focus on anything but how much you love the way he is manhandling you right now.
mike brings his head to the side of your neck and kisses harshly, leaving red marks that are soon to turn purple as the night goes on. you moan out when he finds your sweet spot against your collarbone and you rut your hips back against his harshly, begging for friction.
“god,” mike groans against your skin, pulling at your pants, “need to get this shit off of you.”
as mike slowly pulls your pants down, you throw your back in ecstasy.
“please..” you whine, desperate to have his dick inside of you.
“huh? please what?” mike’s hoarse voice whispers, dragging his tongue along your neck.
“please fuck me already.” you cry out, reaching your hands behind your back to grip his jeans and pull them.
“fuckkkk..” mike groans when your hand grazes over his bulge.
mike replaces your hands with his own and pulls his pants down to his thighs, his dick uncomfortably straining in his boxers. mike hooks his fingers on your underwear and pulls them down to your ankles, now with your pants. you step out of your clothes and kick them to the side, discarding them in the corner of the room.
mike tugs at the ends of your shirt to let you know he wants it off, and as quickly as you raise your hands up, he pulls it over your head and latches his lips on yours. it’s kind of hard to kiss him due to your position in front of him, but you have no reason to complain.
his kisses are vulnerable and animalistic, and you have a hard time keeping up. he forces his tongue inside of your mouth and groans when his tongue touches yours, swirling his around your mouth.
the kiss is desperate, how his tongue tangles with yours. it’s filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of lust you both feel for each other.
you know how badly he wants to fuck you. you can tell by the way his mouth is on yours. you pull away from his lips and look at him, examining his beautiful appearance. his impatience is clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling up and down your body as his free hand pulls his boxers down to let his cock free. it springs about against his stomach and he gasps at the feeling of the cool air in the room hitting it.
you crane your neck back to see the tip of his dick leaking with precum and you gasp. he is big. a feeling of anxiety mixed with excitement suddenly washes over you when you see his dick.
“what’s wrong, sweetheart? scared it won’t fit?” he smirks, voice lingering with a sarcastic tone.
you whine at his condescending words and reach your hand back to jerk him off, but he stops you. he clicks his tongue and pursues his lips, then whispers, “just watch the cameras, yeah? i can do all the work.”
you frown when you remember the whole reason he brought you in here was to do his job, but if it meant he would finally fuck you, you really didn’t mind. you turn your head back to the cameras and sigh, doing your best to make mike happy.
when you feel the tip of mike’s cock against your hole, you clap a hand over your mouth and moan against your palm.
“you don’t— have to be quiet,” he grunts, slowly pushing his tip into you, “it’s just us here.”
you take your hand away from your mouth and moan loudly, bracing your hands against the end of the desk for stability.
“so.. fucking tight.” mike moans against your ear.
you whine loudly at the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching you out, despite only the tip being in. your mouth falls open in a silence cry as he pushes into you slowly, trying not to hurt you.
“you can take it,” he murmurs, “you can take all of it.”
his cock stretches your tight walls, filling every inch of you up with his thickness. his calloused hands grip your hips tightly, and his fingernails leave crescent moon shaped marks on your skin.
he gives you a moment to adjust to his size, but when you clench around him, he continues moving until he’s all the way inside.
“holy shit..” you gasp, feeling so full and stuffed with his cock inside of you.
nothing comes out of you but incoherent blabbering when he pushes his cock as deep as it will go, and mike stares at you in complete awe.
“shh.. it’s okay.” mike coos against your ear, "just keep your eyes on the cameras. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
you nod your head aggressively and stare at the computers through hooded eyes that threaten to squeeze shut. you writhe against him, tears already falling and staining your cheeks as your legs tremble.
your hole grips mike perfectly, feeling every vein and sucking every last drop of pre cum out of him. after letting you adjust for a while, he starts a slow, steady pace. the feeling of his thick cock moving out of you slowly makes you burn with desire.
mike pulls his dick all the way out of you, leaving you empty and vulnerable. you turn around and whine, but the whine quickly turns into a high pitched moan when he pushes himself back inside of you. you felt like you were being split in half by his thickness.
he pulls out of you completely then pushes himself back in slowly a few more times before starting a steady pace. your legs shake as you grip the desk tightly, trying to stabilize yourself.
“already fucked out?” mike utters, thrusting his cock deeper into you. he lets go of your hip with one hand and firmly wraps his arm around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.
the raspiness in mike’s voice sent pleasure coursing through your entire body, making you lose yourself in the moment.
noticing that your head is dropping a bit, mike uses his other hand to hold your head up to the screens. mike takes a moment to study your features, lit up by the light of the many monitors.
the room fills with the sounds of your moans and cries, along with mikes soft groans he occasionally let slip. the sound of skin slapping against skin causes your mouth to fall open in a choked sob as his dick continues to abuse the spongy spot inside of you.
mike presses his face into the crook of your neck and bites softly at the marked skin, admiring the work he left earlier. he leans in and kisses the corner of your chewed lips before whispering, "you feel—shit, you feel so fucking good."
you let out a strangled noise at his words, blabbering on about how you want his cum deep inside of you.
“yeah? wanna be stuffed full of my cum, hm?” mike purrs against your lips, bringing his hand down to wipe the tears that stain your cheeks.
you clench around him and moan loudly, rutting your hips back against his while trying to match his rhythm. a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through you when he begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace, and your legs tremble harshly.
“fuckkk..” mike grunts, “use your words, sweetheart.”
you open your mouth and try to speak, but the only thing that falls from your lips is whimpers and whines as he continues to pump himself into you.
“what’s that?” mike taunts, “i can’t hear you.”
you didn’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking. the way his words linger in the air with a condescending tone makes you feel stupid. you weren’t sure if he was trying to make you feel dumb on purpose, but you would never admit that it only made you more turned on.
“please!” you cry out, eyes rolling back into your head. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on the sensitive skin there.
mike moans and continues to pound into you, making sure you are watching the screens closely. mike curses under his breath, tightening his grip on you as he fucks into your tight hole.
“jesus— fuck..” you choke out through moans, “i’m gonna cum..”
mike slams his thickness into you harshly, making sure your hole remembers every last detail of his cock.
“yeah? what— fuck, what makes you think you deserve to cum?” mike asks, cutting himself off with a moan.
“please let me cum!” you sob, entire body shaking for your release.
your hole constricts around his cock as you cry out, legs quivering as the knot in your stomach threatens to snap at any moment.
“god, you’re such a fucking whore,” mike keens, “getting fucked.. shit, by a guy you barely know in a security office? it’s— mhmm.. its pathetic.”
mike pulls away from your neck and looks down, admiring the way your hole swallows his thickness. he almost cums immediately when he sees the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.
“mmmnf, please.. please let me cum—!” you moan, squeezing tightly around his cock. the sound of you begging causes his dick to twitch inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you perfectly. you arch your back against him, swallowing every inch of his cock with your hole.
mike fucks into you relentlessly, spurred on by the sounds of gorgeous moans falling from your lips. he’s eager to feel how hard you finish around him, and just the thought has him biting back moans.
“want you to make a mess for me, baby.” he rasps out, his voice beginning to break and waver as he climbs a mountain of his own bliss. “want you to let go and— holy shit, and cum with me. please.”
“i’m gonna— mhmmmm..” his words of approval are enough to send you over the edge, and you finally feel the knot inside of your stomach snap. waves of pleasure wash over you as you cum, your body completely going limp.
mike squeezes every inch of your body, using you like a fucktoy to chase his own high. “’m cumming.. shit.” he moans, thrusts becoming stronger as he fucks his cum deep into you.
mike cries out when he cums, overstimulating your hole as you milk every last drop. his orgasm causes him to topple over into his own bliss, hips stuttering as he lets out high pitched moans.
his cum floods through your ruined walls, and he fucks it further into you until he physically can’t anymore.
his body stumbles forward when he pulls out, watching his sperm drip from your filthy hole. your body is sandwiched between his and the desk while you try to catch your breath, legs shaking involuntarily.
as you both come down from your highs, the room feels like it’s spinning. mike gets off of you and sits back in the chair, pulling you by your hips to sit with him.
“jesus christ,” he breathes, completely fucked out, “that was amazing.”
“thank you..” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.
“hey,” mike says, shaking you awake, “you still have to watch the security cameras.”
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your-eternal-lies · 2 days
Text
_  LEFT HAND GREEN (oneshot)
Main Navigation || Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.
PAIRING — Loki x f!Reader SUMMARY — You hadn't planned on spending your Friday night playing a game of Twister chicken with a literal god, but hey—if it gets you to where you need to be...
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WARNINGS — Plot? What plot? This is basically just porn (but with some feelings because, you know, romance). Minors, please do not interact.
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LEFT HAND GREEN
"Didn't you hear me, Agent?" Comes a voice, smooth as silk yet twice as dangerous. "I said, left hand green."
You scowl, making a mental vow to yourself right then and there, that you will never again attend another one of Tony's stupid parties. You are swearing off alcohol. You are swearing off form-fitting dresses that make it hard to breathe. You are swearing off him.
Loki—god of mischief, former alien invader, and current persona non grata—your partner and the bane of your existence. The only reason the two of you have been paired together is because he's already gone through more agents than anyone can count, probably scaring them all off with the mere sounds of his batshit crazy.
Steve and Tony made it clear, while they understood your reluctance, that you should do everything in your power to make sure this partnership worked. They had run out of agents to assign him, and you were the only option left.
His usual Asgardian garb is gone tonight, replaced with the crisp clean lines of a white button-up shirt and dark trousers. His dark curls, usually slicked back with precision, not a single strand out of place, fall loosely around his face.
Maybe it was the bubbles from all that champagne that had you staring at him a little longer than usual. You normally can't stand him, his features laced with the same arrogance that had him playing puppeteer with an entire city. Your city. Despite his joining the Avengers, you haven't forgotten.
Although, you must admit, it's getting harder and harder to remember at this very moment. Especially while the two of you are a mess of tangled limbs, exposed skin, and harsh breathing.
Why did you take your clothes off again?
Oh right, you think as you glance over to where your little black dress lies abandoned on the floor. You were getting too warm from all that alcohol, and the fabric had been too restricting for a game of Twister.
Well, at least you're still wearing underwear.
All that smack talk you two had heatedly exchanged earlier comes back to bite you in the ass. He had declared that this was the most pathetic party he had ever seen. You, while not particularly fond of Tony's too lavish parties to begin with, still felt compelled to defend it out of pure spite and nothing else.
Wanda had brought the damned game, was met with a chorus of protesting groans, and then cast her big green eyes to the floor while mumbling sadly about how she'd never played before. The whole team then reluctantly caved, of course.
But soon, one by one, people decided to call it a night, eventually leaving you and your so-called partner standing before the wrinkled plastic mat, challenging each other to another round because obviously there wasn't even any competition.
He arrogantly proclaimed that victory would be his, by a landslide.
You proudly declared that you were much more flexible.
And now his large body looms over you, all sharp angles and smirks, his hands placed firmly on the mat at either side of you. Meanwhile, you try to maintain your balance, your arms and legs awkwardly bent underneath you... your lace-covered chest thrust up into his face, the warm puffs of his breath dancing across your skin.
"Enjoying the view?" You grit sarcastically, rolling your eyes as he grins down at your heaving breasts. You lift your left hand and try for the closest green circle, huffing in annoyance when it remains just barely out of reach.
"Why, yes," he confesses, his face so close that his lips brush against one of your bra cups. "Midgardian fashion is just so... quaint."
You roll your eyes, not bothering to entertain his response, trying not to focus on the infuriating shape of his mouth, your limbs straining as you try and reach that blasted green circle.
"And obviously you agree, seeing as you couldn't stop staring at me all night."
Now, that makes your ears perk up. "Excuse me? I wasn't—"
"You forget who you're dealing with, dearie," he chuckles, the sound scraping against your every nerve... especially a particularly eager one between your legs. "How do you expect to convince everyone you hate me... when you look at me like that all the time?"
"Like what?"
"Like you want to bury me and consume me all at the same time."
"You are delusional, Laufeyson, as always," you bark, turning your head away so you can't get lost in those dangerous blue eyes. "Focus up; I want to win this damn game already. I'd rather not spend a minute more with you than I have to."
"That's a bit rich, coming from someone who's underneath me whilst half-naked," his lips curve up into a smile, and you can almost feel the movement against your chest. "But I suppose this could serve to... strengthen our partnership."
"A partnership implies equality and trust," you say, your shoulders and thighs starting to ache from trying to maintain your position. "I definitely do not trust you as far as I can throw you, and you obviously don't see me as an equal."
"Says who?" Loki drawls, and the room seems to shrink beneath the weight of his question. "In fact, darling, as much as it pains me to admit, you're the only one around here worth talking to."
"Stop trying to distract me," you mutter, your brow furrowing in concentration. You try not to think about how long it's been since you were this close to a man... you know, when you aren't twisting him into a headlock or kicking the absolute shit out of him.
"Ah, so I distract you?" Again with that smirk. That smirk that makes you painfully aware that he's destructive, pompous, and always so fucking patronizing—exactly your type, apparently, given the way your nipples pebble beneath the lace of your bra.
"I will smack you," you threaten halfheartedly, angling your body slightly to make one last attempt at completing your turn.
"Careful, mortal," the teasing and good humour are gone from his voice now, replaced with something else much more treacherous, "your heart beats too loudly."
"Then stop listening," you grunt, your torso inadvertently sliding along his. You freeze when he hisses, right when you feel your lower abdomen come in contact with his groin.
"Impossible," he groans loudly, his head tossed back and exposing the long white column of his throat. You swallow hard the urge to lean forward and bite him. "Who's distracting who, exactly?"
You gape up at him, frozen, feeling something hard against your hip. "Is that—are you—?"
The shock of it all causes your elbow to give under your own weight, sending you crashing down onto the plastic mat. Loki lowers himself onto you almost immediately, trapping you between him and the floor.
"Looks like you lost," he declares, his large hands already circling your wrists and pinning you to the mat. "Do I get to claim my prize now?"
"We never agreed—" you struggle against him, your voice failing when he leans in close, your noses almost touching.
"Terms can be negotiated, darling," the god whispers, eyes absolutely blazing, flashing with a hint of green that makes your clit throb. "The timing, however, not so much. I'd like to collect now."
All thoughts of distancing yourself evaporate instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours, his hands leaving yours to slide down your arms, finding their way around the band of your bra. He latches onto you like he's starving for whatever you're offering, his tongue dragging across the seam of your lips.
Without thinking, you open for him.
You begin wondering what he is truly the god of, because with each stroke of his tongue, you swear you're being struck by lightning.
God dammit, you're kissing Loki—something your wandering mind had certainly entertained before, but never expected to happen.
And it feels so damn good.
"I see you everywhere I go, Agent," he confesses against your lips, his warmth leaving your skin as he sits back on his haunches, making a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and revealing inch after inch of perfect unblemished skin. He shrugs the garment off, a mesmerizing sight as the delicate material whispers along his sculpted arms and falls to the floor. "I can taste you in the air I breathe."
"Lo..." your voice isn't working, other than to let out a series of whimpers and moans as his hands return. This time, they find their way to your hips, his fingers teasing a path underneath the waistband of your panties and then gently pulling them off.
You clutch the plastic mat underneath you, breath quickening as he lowers his face to your newly exposed sex. The moment his tongue touches your aching clit, stars explode. Loki is relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, the sounds and vibrations of his groans getting lost inside you as he completely buries his face in the wetness of your desire.
You screech as your hips buck forward, gasping over and over again as he practically tortures you with his tongue. He is not quiet about it either, the room filled with the sounds of his sucking and slurping while the pressure in your belly begins to burn out of control.
But just as you are about to be catapulted over the edge, he releases his hold on your lips and pushes your thighs further apart to make room for him. His hands are a blur of movement at the front of his trousers, the rasp of the zipper so loud in the empty room, before his cock spills out from between the layers of fabric, already rock hard and pointing right at you.
Loki covers you with his warmth immediately, finding his place between your legs and grunting when you wrap them around his hips. His hands squeeze your breasts and lift them higher, enough to take one into his mouth, lace and all.
"Yes!" You cry out as he sucks at you shamelessly, fingers tracing the swell of your tits, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peaks until your bucking against him, trying to relieve the tension between your thighs. His teeth clamps down as one hand snakes down your torso, finding its way to your aching pussy, unceremoniously sliding two fingers deep inside you.
Loki draws back, admiring the bite mark just above the edge of your bra cup, his lips curving up into a satisfied smile.
"Well, aren't you a vision?" He growls as his fingers move faster inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. His erection grazes your thigh, twitching as if begging for attention, but Loki seems unbothered as his eyes darken just a shade. "Beg me."
"Ugh," this son of a bitch; you would slap him if you weren't so desperate to come. "Fuck you!"
"Not quite what I was looking for," he murmurs as he removes his fingers from your hole. He replaces them with the swollen head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddeningly slow circles.
"Loki," you threaten, the tone of your voice leaving nothing up for debate, but that was all it took. Hearing his name like that goes straight to his hips, them punching forward almost as soon as you said it, sheathing himself inside you with one smooth thrust.
His own breathing becomes laboured as he keeps the pace brisk, unable to help pushing in and out of you, relishing the way your muscles clenched and trembled as you fully embraced his hard length.
"I tell myself I still yearn for Asgard's throne," he manages between thrusts, voice barely above a whisper as he continues to fuck you into the mat, his hips smacking into the back of your thighs. "That this pitiful planet is nothing more than a chessboard, a stepping stone towards my glorious purpose."
Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, your bodies reacting to each other more fervently with each passing second. Despite yourself, you tilt your chin up as if to silently beg for another kiss, the faintest whine escaping your throat when he doesn't oblige.
"But somewhere between your infuriating presence," he grunts, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust, drawing another pleasured cry from your lips. "And the chaos of this world, I find myself torn... between the call of power and the unexpected allure of something far more perilous."
You want to say something back, but he fucks you so deep it's like you can feel him right up against your throat. All you can do is hold onto him, gasping for breath, hanging on for dear life.
"Feelings. Sentiment. For you." He spits out the words like they're foreign, distasteful even, his hips keeping up their cruel punishment, but his eyes are almost kind when they find yours. His lips hover just a hair's breadth from yours, teasing and tantalizing as his body invades you over and over again.
His confession hangs heavy in the air, charged with a cocktail of what looks like regret and a vulnerability you never expected to witness from him. You feel your walls of defence crack, just a hairline fracture, but allowing more than enough room for him to slip through.
"You say I distract you?" He thrusts harder, the tip of his cock finding a spot inside you that makes you let go of the last tiny string holding any remnants of your composure together. Stars explode behind your eyes as you squeeze them closed, the plastic mat sticking to your sweaty back as you arch up into your orgasm.
You feel Loki lean forward and bite your shoulder, grunting as he fucks you through your climax, a few more thrusts before he himself tenses inside you. His hold on you softens, his teeth retreating and replaced with the soft cushioning of his lips, all the while his hips jerk again and again as he spills hot rushes of fluid into you.
You lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and dishevelled and wrapped in a tarp of colourful circles and still joined together. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath as Loki slowly and carefully wraps his arms around you, but doesn't remove himself from the warmth of your body.
"My dear, you're the one who won't leave me be."
Fin.
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NOTES — Well then. I am definitely not going to church this morning 👀
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venerablemonk27 · 3 days
Text
I logged my 200th bird species for Wisconsin! I got a great tip from a close friend, who knows about these things, that a Hooded Warbler had appeared in a park near my house.
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[ID: A male Hooded Warbler perches on a mossy branch in the forest. His body is just a couple inches long, with green feathers on back, wings, and tail, and dull yellow for the underparts. His "hood" is a black cowl that covers almost his entire head save for a bright yellow mask that extends in an oval from the middle of his face to surround the eye and ear on each side. He has a pointy dark gray bill shaped for picking insects off of trees, and his eye is a reflective jet black that stands out against the yellow mask. End ID]
The next morning, I packed up my camera along with my work bag and took a break from my commute to check out the park. I arrived to find several people wandering the trails, here to do the exact same thing as me. None of them had seen the Hoodie yet, but they had a wealth of information from other birders on the movements and general behavior of the bird from the past couple days. I spent at least 45 minutes wandering the trails, squishing through the damp and the mud in my work slacks and sneakers. I logged five firsts for 2024, but no sign of the elusive Hooded Warbler.
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[ID: The Hooded Warbler perches on the same mossy branch, this time facing away from the camera and looking up into the treetops. His wings are neatly folded behind his back, making a pleasing pattern with the tips of the primary flight feathers. End ID]
So I left the park for work, but decided I should come back in the evening. I knew from the sighting reports in eBird that this guy is active all day. When I got back to the park, it was cloudy and drizzling. I met a pair of nice young women with binoculars and a camera lens as long as mine. I asked, "Are you here looking for the Hooded Warbler too?"
One of them said very casually, "Oh yeah, it's right over there across the creek. Just flittering around." So of course I had to get eyes on him and try to get a photo. It was only a couple minutes before he came out again and started working the far bank of the creek.
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[ID: The same Hooded Warbler, this time perched deeper in the brush and looking toward the camera. This angle provides a better view of the black hood and bright yellow mask, looking delicately fringed around the edges. End ID]
I probably followed the Hoodie down the creek for like 10 minutes before he decided to cross over to our side to do some more foraging. I froze. He was almost completely hidden in the brush, but I could see bits of movement and kept him in the frame the whole time. I knew I couldn't make any sudden moves without scaring him away. For a brief moment, he came out to take a closer look at me, which is where all the photos in this post came from. I only managed to shoot three bursts while he was completely out in the open before he took off for the far side of the creek again.
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[ID: The Hooded Warbler looks directly at the camera, only partially obscured by a twig. His posture suggests being ready to leap forward and continue the hunt for insects. End ID]
I was left feeling incredibly amped. The other photographer and I had to share back-of-the-camera shots and gush over how cute he was and how close he came to us. It seems it's always a special event when a rare or unusual species shows up in town. I love these brief moments of connection with birds and the people that care about them.
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comradekatara · 2 days
Note
what are kannas judgmental opinions on the gaang (+mai and ty lee?)
okay i’ve written before on how kanna feels about the gaang, but you specifically said judgmental which is a whole other question. bc I do think that kanna can be a massive cunt when she wants (or needs) to be :)
katara: she is gonna get their whole village killed, not because she inherently has a target on back, but because she insists on making one anyway. literally one day of quiet and she’d never ask for anything ever again. literally just one day where she sits inside and doesn’t yell and doesn’t run off somewhere and give kanna a heart attack. she’s too fucking old for this….. please katara. just go inside and do your chores, quietly. you are killing your grandmother. is that what you want, katara, huh??? to kill your grandmother? katara catches a cold one day and stays curled up in bed and doesn’t speak because she has a sore throat, and kanna just spends the whole day bringing her soup and katara is so cute and cuddly the whole time it’s literally the best day of her life.
sokka: exact opposite problem, which is that he’s too obedient and it kinda scares her. please fight back just a little. just take one day off. breaks are important! she was a rebellious child, so as much as katara exhausts her, she also understands her very well. she does not understand sokka at all. he literally does everything she would ever ask from him before she even has to ask (to the point that katara thinks he does nothing, because kanna never forces sokka into doing anything). she has no idea who raised him to be this obedient, because it certainly wasn’t her. he used to be funny and curious and full of life as a child, but now his miserable depressed aura saps the vibes out of every room. at least when she’s doing chores with katara they chit chat and make jokes, but with sokka, she doesn’t even want that boy in her house. absolute vibe killer.
aang: he’s a bad influence on katara. or maybe katara is a bad influence on him? either way they should know better than to go into a fire nation ship. say what you will about sokka’s wet miserable aura, but he simply would not do that. but he’s also really cute, so. it’s ok :)
toph: this girl clearly thinks that she is too good to visit the south pole and she has no idea why sokka speaks so highly of that rich snob. and the first time she meets her, toph isn’t even all that polite to her?? this kid is yet another delinquent bad influence on her grandkids. (she grows on her.)
suki: she has absolutely nothing bad to say about suki. next!
zuko: invaded her village + attacked sokka + grabbed her and shoved her rudely + kidnapped aang + stupid hair + pure evil. (once they are introduced properly after the war, though, zuko apologizes and he’s really sweet about it so she forgives him and basically just likes him from that point forward.)
mai: katara hates her but sokka loves her so she doesn’t know what to think. on one hand, katara is her favorite, but on the other hand, sokka exercises better judgment. she barely talks in her presence, so she genuinely has no clue. she kind of gives off scary vibes though. who can say.
ty lee: the most charming girl in the world, second only to suki. kanna has nothing bad to say about ty lee. in fact she once suggests to katara that she could stand to be more like ty lee, and katara throws a hissy fit. which is exactly the kind of behavior kanna was referring to. oh well.
appa: perfect creature. no notes.
momo: his green eyes are staring directly into her soul. for the love of god please get him some brown contacts.
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syrupfog · 13 hours
Text
Sanji who just wants a job as a sous chef but has yet to be hired, but has somehow managed to enter the world of being a private chef for extremely wealthy families. 
He hates them they remind him of childhood but he needs the cash. 
He starts working for Mihawk.
Mihawk who only eats odd, simple foods. Things that Sanji feels insulted to make. A LOT of toast with cream cheese and jam, honestly. 
Sanji’s bored out of his mind (he starts canning the fruit from Mihawk’s garden to pass the time)
Then one day, bursting through the front door come two people his own age, a woman with pink hair and a man with green, DEMANDING to know why Mihawk moved without TELLING THEM, HIS OWN CHILDREN
Sanji immediately pegs them for stuck up assholes. He’s grown to respect Mihawk, at least (he’s better than the Charlottes were). Spoiled rich adult kids who expect their lifestyles to be funded. Ugh. 
Mihawk blinks and says that he DID tell them.
There’s a lot more shouting as Sanji quietly pickles beets in the background. They come to some sort of truce around the idea that Zoro (the green haired one) lost his phone, and Perona (pink hair) blocked his number after Mihawk called at 2am about his yams.
They’re good yams, Sanji thinks. 
He also learns that they were on a “road trip of self discovery”. He’s not sure what that means. It sounds like rich kid speak for “spending spree”.
They integrate into the household though and, after being introduced to Sanji, Perona demands pink. Anything strawberry. 
Zoro says he’ll eat anything. Sanji doubts that. 
He tests it. 
He makes extravagant dishes. 
Zoro doesn’t seem to even notice, eating without complaint.
Honestly it’s good practice. He uses it as an excuse to get back into the hang of the fanciest things Zeff taught. 
But he still doesn’t like them. Rich assholes. Mihawk’s simple toasts get him a pass.
One thing about Zoro though is that he seems to spend all his time working out, so he comes looking for food at the ODDEST times. And SOMETIMES Sanji is ASLEEP. He’s got a room in the old servants’ quarters and Zoro will appear at any hour.
After the third time being awoken at 2am, Sanji snaps. 
“I’m preparing you a fucking shelf full of onigiri,” he says, pointing with a judgmental finger at Zoro’s chest. “That’s going to be your midnight snack from now on! Some of us need our beauty rest!”
Zoro blinks down at the finger. “Okay,” he says. “I mean. You clearly need it.” 
Sanji scoffs in outrage. He’s still half asleep. He aims a kick at Zoro’s head before he can process his one rule (“don’t hurt clients”). 
Zoro dodges. 
His face breaks out into a grin.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Curls,” he says. 
Sanji stumbles. He regains his footing and stomps down the hall, face aflame. 
He makes thirty onigiri. 
Zoro eats seven. 
“There, that’ll last you three more nights,” Sanji says.
Zoro nods. “So what time do I wake you up to get you to fight me again?” 
Sanji splutters. “No!!” He shrieks. “It’s three in the morning! I know you’re a rich fuck with nothing to do but some of us have jobs! I’m on call 24/7 here!” 
…he regrets it as soon as he says it.
Expects to be fired on the spot. 
Zoro frowns. He crosses his arms. “Fine,” he says, tersely. “Go to bed.” 
Sanji… does. He avoids turning his back on Zoro as he leaves the room, a bad feeling churning in his gut.
When he makes breakfast the next morning, he’s expecting to be fired as soon as Mihawk arrives, but Mihawk mentions nothing. 
Neither do Perona or Zoro when they appear, hours later. 
Sanji feels like he’s walking on eggshells until Zoro appears in his kitchen in early afternoon.
“Hey,” says Zoro. “I talked to my dad.” 
Sanji hangs his head. “So I’m fired?” He asks, dread pooling in his stomach. 
“Fucking what? No, Jesus. I just said you should have a regular work shift. Only like, ten hours on call.” 
“So you docked my pay,” Sanji says flatly.
“Now you’re being an ass,” Zoro growls. “NO, you’re being paid the same, you’re just going to have time off when I can’t bug you. That cool?” 
Sanji frowns, suspicious. “What do you get out of it?” He asks. 
Crossing his arms, Zoro scoffs. “Not getting yelled at at 2am, mostly.”
“You could’ve just not woken me up,” Sanji says. 
“You make it real hard to be nice to you, Cook,” Zoro says, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t like me, but I was just trying to do something nice.” 
Sanji melts a little, but he’s not willing to give in entirely. “Well thanks,” he says. “For not firing me, too.” 
Zoro rolls his eyes. “We’ve all had shitty jobs where we want to yell at customers,” He says. 
“Now I KNOW you’re lying,” Sanji argues. “I know how rich you are. I know what Mihawk pays me.”
Zoro looks… funny at him. “Did he ever happen to mention that we’re adopted?” 
Sanji blinks. Thinks of Zeff. “Uh, no?” 
“Yeah,” Zoro says. “Fucking Daddy Warbucks situation. I was seventeen. Trust me, I know customer service. Had to work to eat.”
“Well that’s not fair,” Sanji says. “Now I feel like a fucking ass.” 
“You ARE a fucking ass,” Zoro says. “Want to fight when you’re off work? Officially your shift ends at 6 now.” 
“Dinner is for seven so that won’t work.” Sanji says. “Shut up I have a chef’s integrity.”
“You’re not turning down fighting me?” Zoro asks, sounding oddly hopeful. 
“You spend all day working out so it’ll be unfair,” Sanji says. “But sure, I’ll kick your ass. Winner chooses what filling goes in your onigiri.” 
“Spicy salmon,” Zoro says. 
“Pickled plums,” muses Sanji.
They do end up fighting after dinner, out in Mihawk’s fancy topiary garden (he maintains it himself). 
Bruised and panting, they end up making out behind the large rabbit-shaped tree. 
It becomes A Thing.
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sleepyghostuwu · 2 days
Text
The Artist and the Gem: Part 1
"I'm pretty sure this only happens in dreams."
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Synopsis: An IPC member part-timing as an artist unknowingly spices up her life when a certain colleague comes to her for a leisurely art commission.
Notes: Fem! Reader POV since it's what I'm more comfy writing in for this series. I also have no clue how art commissions work so apologies if it isn't lore-accurate ^^"
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Ping!
You groan as you reluctantly reach for your phone for the umpteenth time today, bracing yourself to read your client's incessant texts about your work progress despite it being mere weeks since they first contacted you. Combining that with the fact that your supervisors were piling you with more paperwork these days made it all the more frustrating to deal with.
"Hi again! I feel the need to mention that I have a full-time job outside of my artist life, and also take note that it takes time in general to complete multiple people's commissions over time. I will send you more WIPs once I'm available to do so. Thanks for your patience!"
As cordial as the text sounded when you sent it out, you were like a pot filled with boiling water, ready to burst in fury in the event that client continues to add fuel to the fire. Too angry to continue doing work properly, you excused yourself to get a drink at the pantry.
As the coffee machine whirred to life on the counter, you hear your phone ringing again. Doing your utmost to keep your composure, your trembling hands open your inbox. This time, it was not your current client who texted you, but a new one.
"Hey (username), I find your artworks to be rather intriguing. I saw on your webpage that you're still taking in commissions, so I was wondering if I could trouble you to do one for me."
"At least this one's polite about this," you muttered as you replied to their message with equal respect.
"Hey there! Happy to know that you appreciate my art! My commission list is quite full at the moment, so I'm afraid that it will take long while to complete yours. Would you mind if your commission took a longer time to complete, or would you rather contact me another time instead?"
That should do, you think to yourself as you retrieve your coffee cup from the machine and take a sip of your drink. Your phone rings again.
"It's all good. Take as much time as you need. I'm not in a rush :)"
Your eyes practically lit up upon reading that message. Unlimited time for a commission? In times like these? Is this heaven?? You quickly shoot back another text.
"Very well. What would you like me to draw, then?"
"I would like you to draw a portrait of Aventurine from the IPC."
...
You've got to be kidding me.
You blink furiously at your client's art request, trying to make sure that you did not misread whatever they sent to you.
"That's an interesting request you got here."
Who even is requesting for this from me? A fan from the Aventurine Fan Squad? For all you knew, any of your colleagues could have either chanced upon your art account or decided to knowingly exploit your creativity for their own pleasure. As you type out the default reminder for them to pay up as per your terms, your phone rings twice.
[100,000 Credits have been transferred to your bank account.]
"Say less. Wishing you the best of luck ;)"
You take a huge gulp of coffee as you switch off your phone, evidently more stressed about your artistic career than you already were before. With such a hefty sum of money transferred to you for a singular drawing, chances are that you will have to pool in all of your creativity for this particular commission if it means that your mystery client would be assured to get their money's worth. Taking a glimpse at the nearest clock within your hindsight, you quickly down your coffee before rushing back to your cubicle, ready to check off your task list if it meant more time to draw later on.
---
As you briskly return to your cubicle to work, a certain blond man in green glances at you from a distance and smiles.
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five-rivers · 1 day
Text
timer
@echoghost1 @everfascinated
.
It hovered over the surface of the portal, clearly separate from it.  A large, flat, disk shape, with a pale, luminous face.  More vivid numbers circled the edge, painted neatly.  A single, delicate, metal hand pointed towards the number seven, on the left side of the clock.  It had been pointing there for the past hour or so, ever since it had been noticed.  
Maddie drummed her fingers on the workbench she stood next to.  The timer - because what else could it be? - was, thus far, a mystery to her.  Usually, Maddie liked mysteries.  Exploring the mysteries of the Ghost Zone had been the reason they had built the portal in the first place.  This mystery was fascinating, and Maddie was excited about it, but it was also incredibly troubling.  
Obviously, the timer - hovering, green, immovable - was ghostly in origin.  What else could it be?  But how did a ghost place get in here to place it?  For what purpose?  How much time was left?  What was it counting down to?  It couldn’t be anything good.  Ghosts had no love for her family or their works.  
As soon as she’d noticed it, she and Jack had started taking readings, but nothing they did gave them anything conclusive, or any way to get rid of the thing.  
It was frustrating and troubling.  Frustrating and troubling.  
“Uh, Mom?  Dad?  It’s six and we were wondering if you wanted us to order dinner or anything…”
Maddie looked up to see Danny coming down the stairs.  
“Oh, sure!” said Jack.  “Pizza sounds great, son!”
“Yeah.  What are you even– What’s that?”  
Danny stared wide-eyed at the timer for a long moment, and Maddie moved to reassure him.  Danny was always so timid around ghosts, so afraid.  This timer was doubtlessly malevolent, but she and Jack wouldn’t let it do anything to Danny.  
Briefly, Danny’s eyes gleamed green.  Then, slowly, but inevitably, he collapsed.
Maddie leaped forward, keeping Danny from hitting his head on the bottom step by the narrowest of margins.  “Jack!”  
“What happened?” he asked, hurrying over.  “Danny?  Danny?  Talk to me, son!  Can you hear me?”
Danny’s eyes fluttered open briefly, overly reflective, then shut again.
“I’m setting up the quarantine booth,” said Maddie.  “Will you carry him?”
Jack nodded, grimly.  
They’d gotten the quarantine booth set up after Vlad’s unfortunate recurrence of ecto-acne and the revelation that ecto-acne could be contagious under certain circumstances.  It was sealed, filtered, protected, shielded.  Every precaution they could think of had gone into it. 
… and, yes, they should use those precautions more often, but Maddie and Jack loved getting up close and personal with the subjects of study.  
“We need to get that thing shielded,” said Jack as he set Danny on the bed.  He rushed out towards the timer and started setting up shield projectors around the portal.  
Maddie, meanwhile, pulled the medical scanner free from the ceiling.  Well, ‘medical scanner’ was a very sci-fi way of putting it, when really it was quite prosaic, if you knew how it worked.
She positioned it over Danny’s body and set it to taking data. 
Temperature, low, heart rate, low, bones, intact, nervous system… that part of the scanner didn’t work all that well, ignore that reading…  
Ectoplasm levels were off the charts.  
Maddie inhaled deeply.  Stay calm, stay calm.  They would fix this.  They’d cured Vlad and Danny’s friends, they could cure this, whatever it was.  They would get rid of that timer and they’d save Danny.  
“Mom?” said Danny, weakly.  
“Hey, sweetie,” said Maddie.  “How are you feeling?”  
“Bad,” said Danny.  He tried to sit up, but Maddie pushed him back down.  “What’s happening?”
“You collapsed suddenly,” said Maddie.  “We’re trying to figure out why.”
Danny raised one hand to his face.  Green light reflected off his hand.  Understanding flicked over his features.  
“Okay, but I think I’m feeling better, now,” he said.  He tried to sit up again.  
“We need to figure out what happened before you go running around,” said Maddie, pushing him down again.  She looked over at Jack, through the thick, transparent sides of the quarantine booth.  Jack was now trying to throw a towel over the timer and–
Wait a moment.  
“Stay down,” she told Danny.  “Let the scanner do its job.”  She walked out of the quarantine booth.  “Wait, Jack, wait.”
“But we have to keep it from affecting Danny.  We don’t know if its effect is visual or what.”
“I know, I know,” said Maddie.  “But look at it.  Look at the hand.”
The hand, which had been pointing at the number seven, was now pointing at the number six.  
Jack scowled at the timer and tried to throw the towel over it again.  The towel passed through it.  “Are we sure this is a timer, Mads?  Maybe the numbers are counting down charges or something like that.”
“I don’t know, it still looks more like a timer to me.”
“But why did it affect Danny like that?” 
“I don’t know.  We need to start decontamination procedures right away, though.  His ectoplasm levels are off the charts.  The sudden spike is probably what made him collapse, but I don’t know how this could have increased his ectoplasm levels so much so quickly.”
I don’t know either,” said Jack.  He picked up the latest version of the Fenton Finder (which incidentally, still detected Danny more often than not) and shook it.  “None of the detectors we have pointed at it picked up anything.  Nothing going towards Danny, nothing ambient, nothing anywhere else.”
Maddie had hoped that their detectors had picked something up, but with the continued failures of the Fenton Finder, maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.  
“We’ll keep looking,” said Maddie.  She was forgetting something.  What was she forgetting?  “Jazz.  We need to tell Jazz, so she doesn’t come down here.  What if it only affects minors?”
“Righto,” said Jack, shoving the Finder at Maddie.  “I’ll do that, you start the decontam procedures!”
Maddie nodded tightly and turned back to Danny.  She could see his eyes gleaming from here.But they could fix this. 
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(tl;dr at the bottom)
this one is just petty, and i'm too much of a pussy to actually do anything (though my friends do say i absolutely should) but:
wibta for filing a complaint (?) against my table group for a class?
i take culinary for one of my classes, and it's one of the saving graces of my otherwise utterly shit high school experience. and while i do enjoy the class, i've recently been put in a group with people who do absolutely nothing and it's been frustrating me. for example, as of the day i am sending this, we made zucchini fritters. the dishwasher and i, the sous chef, did basically all the work and the manager and executive barely did anything unless we actively made them. i can understand the manager doing nothing, since their job is to basically just supervise the kitchen and they don't get to actually cook (worst role for me ngl) but the executive chef, who should be involved in the whole cooking lab, just sat around and watched. now don't get me wrong, i love the process of cooking and making stuff, but it's a little tiring when it's me doing most of the work while other people just grab their phones (they aren't supposed to get them until the lab is finished and the kitchen has been cleaned, for sanitary reasons) and idle about. anyways, the manager at least grated the zucchini while i worked with the green onions and garlic i guess, and during this the executive chef just kinda. stood there and watched? he always had earbuds in and i don't really know what he does, but i thought he'd at least be mixing the batter. he did not, and turns out he really was just standing there the whole time so i mixed the batter after i finished up with my veggies. while i was doing so, i also thought that they'd have put the zucchini in a bowl or a colander or something and started sweating it with the salt, but nope. the two of them just sorta went off to do their own things (stand/ lean against the counters and watch) and so i panicked and dumped the stuff into the nearest clean bowl, and i did manage to get the executive to salt it. then when it was time to squeeze the water out, it was again my job to do so, though i am currently missing about a quarter of my nail on one finger due to it snagging and ripping off. at this point, i think i should mention i have chronic back and joint pains and headaches, and i was starting to feel worse and worse, so i once again asked the executive to squeeze the water for a bit while i snagged a pain killer. when i come back, not even a minute later, he's just dumped the thing into the batter mix, instead of fully squeezing it like i asked him to. then he hands the thing to me and i mix it and then i have to fry it. by the time i start frying, all the other kitchens have finished, we have like half an hour till class is out, and chef puts on hell's kitchen for the class. me and the dishwasher (who offered to help throughout the lab occasionally. she's a godsend.) make them fry the rest (one fritter). while i did do the dishes after it doesn't count since it was as a thank you to the dishwasher who helped me. but other than that, it's like this for pretty much every labs except for when i'm dishwasher, and even then it's not too different since it just means i have to go back and forth between cooking and washing dishes.
i vented to a friend, who also takes a cooking class (catering) about this and he says i should email about it to chef. now this is where the question comes in. i don't feel good about reporting it to chef since i don't want to be a snitch. i, too, engage in listening to music and chilling, so i get the joy of doing these things. if i were to tell the teacher, though, they'd get in trouble for it and i don't think i want that. and i might be biased/ just cranky. last lab, which was hamburger and fries, the guy who was executive today threw away the fries because class was ending even though not everyone got their share of it yet. this instantly put him on the "i dont like this guy" list of mine, and on top of that, i was already feeling a bit cranky and gloomy since waking up, and it was only further worsened by whatever class cooked in the kitchen before my class, who leaves the dishes all dirty and gross every time without fail (specifically, it was all three pans sticky with grease and a glass mixing bowl encrusted with a white substance that set me off today) so i might just be being harsh on them. i usually enjoy getting to cook and actually do things, and thus i haven't had an issue with the lack of help from my tablemates (is that a word) until now, so this could just be me wrongfully directing my negative feelings to them and blaming them.
tl;dr: people in my group in culinary class do jackshit and make me deal with the brunt of the work except for this one girl, friend says i should report their asses to the chef
why i might be the asshole:
i was already cranky and might be just making them the subject of my anger and blaming them
i usually enjoy getting to cook anyways
i might be biased against one of them since he dumped potatoes before i could grab my full share
snitch
why i might not be the asshole:
should not have to do pretty much all the work and they get the same grade despite doing nothing
still have to do most of the work despite chronic back and join pains and headaches + injury
having to actively get them to help me is a pain in the ass since they just go right back to doing nothing after half assing whatever they were asked to do
sorry if this is a bit all over the place, i am bad at articulating my thoughts and the likes, and am currently being fueled by spite, pain, and caffeine.
(@sousanon so i get a notif when this posts)
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kookygranger · 2 days
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what is my boyfriend towtruck!Eddie doing on this fine 4/20 weekend?
Haha, I’m the worst person to ask this, @storiesbyrhi can vouch, but I’m so glad you did. If we don’t include our own experiences in our stories then who are we? 
For you and our tow truckin' boy @bettyfrommars ✨
Warnings: 18+ thank you, swearing, mentions of masturbation, drug use
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On this rare Saturday with nothing on your to-do list that couldn’t be put off, you’d decided to take advantage of the miserable weather and curl up with a book. 
That’s where you were when your phone rang. Tangled in blankets, a warm mug of tea on your bedside table, your apartment lit in warm lighting from the strategically placed lamps around the place.
Your head was still in the story that had captured you for hours when you answered.
“Heello?”
“Hey, baby.”
“Eddie.” Your voice lifts in soft recognition, but the boy is hardly anymore grounded than you in this moment. “Did you just get off?” You place your book pages down in your little nest and glance at the rain still pelting your windows, hoping Hawkins was a little more dry today.
“Well, uh…that’s kinda what I’m calling about.” 
His tone helps you drift back to reality, back straightening at the hazy slur of his words. 
“…are you high?”
You can practically hear the goofy grin over the line, “Wellll, it is four twenty.”
You glance at the red numbers on your alarm clock, “It’s 6:48.” Shit, you should really get something together for dinner. The breathy laugh that escapes him makes you smile.
“No, baby. I mean like, it’s the 20th of April. Four twenty, get it? I guess I forgot how much you hate holidays.”
“That’s not a thing,” you laugh. 
“It is! Very important holiday to us wasters I’ll have you know.”
There’s a pause as you search through your memories of the boy you’d only known briefly albeit intensely. “Eddie, I don’t know…I’ve never seen you smoke, I had no idea.”
You hear a shuffle on the other end of the line, and you imagine him straightening up in his bed as his voice becomes serious. 
“Oh, well yeah–it’s kinda like what I’m known for. I used to…” he clears his throat, “Well actually I dealt in high school. I guess Robin never told you that. I mean I don’t now! And I barely smoke anymore–well compared to what I used to–I’d never while I was working obviously–“
Your giggles cut off his rambling, “Eddie relax, I don’t care.” His exhale of relief shoots through your ear.
“Shit, sorry I panicked for a second there.” You laugh again. “Guess I’ll just have to bring some stuff up next time I see you sweetheart.”
“Oh, well…”
“Robin I don’t feel good.” Oh god there it is. How is this supposed to be a good feeling? “Oh my god you’re so pale.” “This feels really weird.” Are you sitting up or lying down? Why can’t you feel your shoulders? Have you ever been able to feel your shoulders? Are you sitting up or laying down? “Oh shit, I think you’re greening out.” “I’m gonna throw up.” “I don’t know what to do!”
“I tried it once and I don’t think it’s for me.”
“Bummer,” Eddie mumbles, “I thought it’d be good for your…”
“High functioning anxiety and chronic pain? Yeah me too.”
“Shit, sweetheart.”
You shrug, “It’s okay. I’m content with a cocktail at the end of the day.” 
The playfulness in Eddie’s voice returns and you can just picture the dimples that punctuate his next words, “Well you can have one now and we could uh, talk.” You’re about to ask him what he thinks you’re doing now. “You know I’ve been thinking about two things all day.” His voice drops an octave, sending a tingle down your spine.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Ever since I got in that truck this morning all I could think about was clocking off when I could roll one and talk to you.”
It’s almost cute. Your initial reaction is lovesick, but there’s something in his tone that’s throwing you off. 
“Wait…Eddie are you trying to have phone sex?”
“…no?”
You cackle, “You are! That’s why you called me high off your ass.”
“It’s one joint baby, calm down.” He’s defensive. Bummed that his plan didn’t work.
“All of this ‘cause of a made up stoners holiday?”
“No! I just miss you alright?! Is that such a crime? Wanted to hear your voice instead of just imagining it like always.” You almost don’t catch the last sentence over your laughing.
“Aw, you think about me when you jerk off?”
He scoffs, “Of course I do. Don’t–don’t you?”
You hum, “Yeah like 95 percent of the time.”
“What?!”
“You know how I feel about Christian Slater.”
“Whatever, I’m just gonna hang up and enjoy my time in peace alright.”
“Aw no! Wait, I love you, jerk off to me talking about my day.”
“Fuck you.” 
Your laughter turns into hysterics when the phone rings eight seconds after he hung up. 
“I didn’t mean that.” 
“I know you didn’t. Shall we start again?”
“Yes, please.” 
“Hey Eds. Did you just get off?”
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More towtruck!Eddie and city girl here ✨
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agentrouka-blog · 2 days
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Hi ! Sorry for bothering you with HOTD discourse AGAIN ,but I really wanna know your thoughts on Alicent and her kids relationship.
Have a good day/night !
Within the show, the energy I get from their relationship is less mother-child and more eldest daughter raising her younger siblings because no one else will do it.
We watch a child still mourning the loss of her own mother, still just toying with the role of the Maiden that society affords highborn girls (a figure of romance and chivalry, afforded admiration and glamor), and we watch her already struggling with a sense of doom and dread regarding their society and her powerlessness in it, expressed through her hands.
Then we see these fragile identities entirely taken away without a choice. She doesn't get to be a girl anymore, she doesn't get to explore the illusion of agency as a desired maiden wooed by handsome knights. She is suddenly transplanted into the role of a physical body that must endure its own violation for the purposes of others. Her children are things produced and birthed and cared for in a state of dissociation. And there are no rewards in it, no trade-off in power or status to replace the small safety she had before. She is profoundly lonely, no one takes her seriously. The father who should have protected her sacrificed her for his political goals, the one friend she thought she could relate to has coldly abandoned her. Her husband is her constant violator whom she must appease. There is no maternal mentor around her at all. She's deeply traumatized and depressed and trapped. She keeps trying to return herself to that previous state of self, if only through recreating her friendship with Rhaenrya. How is this child supposed to find the emotional resources to bond with the children she had no choice in birthing?
Then Rhaenyra's betrayal robs her of even any illusion of support from that end and her father's departure removes his remnants of protection, company and control. It's an implosion, and we see her make the choice to find a new self. The green dress moment.
So somewhere in the off-screen period following, she also takes control - as far as she can - of her relationship with her children. She - their traumatized teenaged biological mother - chooses to be their protector because there is no adult around who will do it. And it is hard. There is no ease in it. The one child she could have a blueprint for (Helaena) is neurodivergent and speaks an entirely different emotional language. The boys struggle with patriarchy from the male perspective, she finds it difficult to access and regulate that sphere. But she tries. She really tries to find ways to relate to them and to apply her own values, her own identity. This is where we see her true self. Through trying she comes to truly love them. But she can't just compensate for everything wrong. She can't compensate for Viserys's neglect, she can't compensate for the years it took her to form an adult identity, she can't compensate for the toxicity of their society and she can't compensate for the danger they all live in. There are rifts of disconnect and pain and miscommunication. She is their mother but she is a mother with visible flaws and limitations who cannot protect them as she tries and they know it. It removes her from a pedestal of serenity and calm authority that this Identity(tm) is supposed to have. So there is more loneliness in it, more failure, a lot of frustration and struggle. But it's open struggle and it is genuine care and I find it deeply compelling. I find it more honest and genuine than any other parent-child relationship in the show.
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Text
Homecoming
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Pairing: Hangman x female reader (first person (no use of Y/N)) Synopsis: Hangman arrives home early from a deployment to surprise you Word Count: 1.3k+ Warnings: smut (seriously this is 18+), mentions of masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), multiple orgasms, Hangman is his own smut warning
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This is a rewrite of an old story (combined with some other parts of other writings I've done as the original was never finished). I took a poll on who people wanted a homecoming romp with, and Jake was the winner. Sorry this has taken so long to get out! I did a brief proofread after finishing, so apologies for any mistakes or if this just sucks 🙃
18+ content below, do not interact if you’re a minor.
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I woke up around 6AM thinking I heard something, but as I lay listening there was no noise out of the ordinary. I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable again, rolling onto my side and stretching my leg out. My leg rubbed against something hard, and my eyes shot open immediately. I should have been alone in my bed, but there was a shirtless, green eyed, naval aviator lying next to me.
"Hi babe." Jake said quietly, and I threw my arms around him.
"What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be home until tonight."
"I can leave and come back then if you'd like."
"Only if you want to die a slow and painful death." I said grumpily and he laughed, kissing me gently.
"Are you sure you didn't know I was coming home early?" He asked.
"How could I have?"
"Well, you've got a sexy nightie on," he started before lifting the sheet to look at me.
"I've been wearing it for 2 nights now," I laughed "but I will admit you have good timing."
"Why's that?" He asked and I slid the hem of my nightgown up, revealing my lacy black underwear.
"Well hellllooo." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows at me before pulling me back against him for a deeper kiss.
"Fuck, I missed you so much." I said as my leg wrapped over his hip, and I ran my hands up his abs.
"Same. I thought about you every night."
"Did you ever touch yourself while you thought about me?" I asked a little shyly.
"Almost every day." He replied and I groaned slightly.
"Shit." I said under my breath as my heartbeat picked up.
"Did you ever think about me in bed and get hot and have to take care of it cause you were so turned on you couldn't stand it?" He asked, running his hands up and down my sides.
"You always make me hot, Jake." I told him and I could feel his cock twitch against me.
"Good. It better only be me." He said, before crashing his lips into mine and rolling us over so he had me pinned beneath him.
My hips rolled against up his and we both groaned into the kiss.
"Jake, please..." I mumbled against his lips.
"Please what?" He asked, smirking down at me.
"You know what." I replied.
"You need this so bad, don't you baby?"
"I have for a month now..."
"Then let's get cracking." He grinned, shifting to pull my nightgown off me.
His gaze trailed lazily over me before he kissed down my middle, gently caressing his hands over my breasts as he made his way further down my body. His kisses teased the inside of my thighs until his mouth was pressed over the top of my panties, torturing and pleasing me at the same time.
“Jake,” I sighed, and he moved to pull my panties down my legs. He then spread my legs gently, kissing the inside of both my thighs before lowering his head to push his tongue against me.
I groaned as his tongue flicked across my clit; one of my hands finding its way into his hair, the other gripping the sheet on the bed.
“You’re incredible” he said with a moan, in between sliding his tongue through my folds and sucking gently on my clit.
He slipped a finger inside of me, curling it to press against my g spot.
“You’re almost ready to cum aren’t you baby? I can feel how wet you’re getting and you're clenching so tight on my finger.” he said as he added another finger, and I felt the coil in my stomach tighten. Jake was an expert at pretty much everything he took interest in, and he was very interested in my body and making me feel good.
"Please," I begged before breaking into another loud moan as he upped his pace.
“Cum for me, baby." he said, and I broke. One of my hands came off the pillow and to the back of his head, holding him to me as I started to come undone. My legs were shaking as he sucked on my clit and fingered me through my orgasm.
"Fuck! Jakeeeeeee," I moaned, "fuckkkkkkk."
"Good girl." He said with a smile.
As I came back down from my orgasm, he slipped his boxers off and reached for a condom in the bedside table. I took the packet from his hands, ripping it open and caressing a hand down his length before sliding the condom on.
"Ready?" He asked, rubbing the head of himself against my clit.
"Please" I whined, and he smirked before obliging.
As he slid into me fully my eyes rolled back in my head, and I cried out at the feelings rushing through me.
He started moving slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation.
"Fuck, Darlin, you're so tight."
"Oh god; go harder." I begged and he pushed in and out of me quicker.
"You always feel so good after I've been away. So tight and just like you've been waiting for me to stretch you out again." Jake said, sliding a hand down between us to play with my clit.
"Mmmm... Jake I needed this so bad."
"I know baby. Me too."
"Jake..." I gasped as he shifted his position and pushed up against my front wall, hitting me effectively and sending stars into my vision as he thrust hard repeatedly and rolled my clit between two long fingers.
“Do you think you can give me another one?” he asked.
“If you put in the work, yes.” I grinned and he smirked down at me.
“You’re asking for trouble now.” His head lowered to suck at my left nipple as his other hand came up to pay attention to the right. His hips were still snapping against mine rapidly.
"Fuck. Jake... baby..." I gasped, trying to get some air into my lungs as he assaulted me with pleasure. My legs shook from the effort of holding back but the fire was spreading rapidly across my body, and I knew it was a matter of seconds now. I quivered underneath him, clawing across and down his back as he pounded into me, and my second release shot through my body.
“Goddamn. I forgot how good it feels to be inside you when you let go like that. I almost blew at that babygirl.” He said roughly into my ear, and I laughed lightly.
“It’s your fault.”
“You’re welcome for that.” He kissed me gently as he continued to thrust softly into me.
“My turn.” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking him by surprise as I rolled us over and sat up in his lap.
“Fuck. You know I like it when you ride me baby.”
“I know. Lay back and enjoy it, Jake.”
I started to roll my hips slowly against his and watched his eyes slide closed at the feeling. I ran my hands over his abs and settled them on his chest for some leverage as I moved up and down over him.
“Shit.” He ground out, gripping my hips and thrusting up off the mattress to meet me. Our pace was becoming more frantic as he raced for the end.
“Just like that, Lieutenant.” I groaned, scratching my nails along his chest.
His thrusts grew sloppier each second, and he groaned above me as he came. He'd turned into a shaking, swearing mess and I loved knowing I was the one who made him that way. He pressed a kiss to my lips before rolling us, so we were laying on our sides as we tried to settle our breathing and heartrates.
“I’m gonna have to make sure I keep a shirt on around the squad.” He laughed, looking down at the scratch marks I left on his chest.
“You probably have some on your back, too.” I chuckled.
“What can I say, my girl’s an animal.” He grinned.
“Welcome home, Aviator.” I smiled as he leaned over to press a kiss to my lips.
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