#2.6k words long i'm

[chungledown-bimothy]

any mutuals have some time in the next few days and wanna beta my crown of candy fic? 🥺👉👈

[fordaryl]

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

[d1stalker]

No Right [Logan Howlett]

Summary: Logan’s fierce desire to protect you leads to a heated confrontation.

Warnings: Logan is emotionally constipated, arguing, making out up

WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

You pace the room, tension crackling in the air as Logan stands by the doorway, arms crossed, jaw clenched tight. His eyes follow your every movement, a storm brewing in their depths. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken words hanging between you like a heavy fog.

“Logan,” you start, your voice sharp as you finally stop and face him, “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” he growls, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “My problem is that you’re not going on this mission. I won't allow it.”

The room was packed with the team gathered around the large table as Charles went over the details of a particularly dangerous mission. You sat near the end, listening intently, your focus on the map projected on the screen. Logan was beside you, silent but tense, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges.

"And you'll be going in as a team, coordinated and precise," Charles was saying, his voice calm and measured as always. "The success of this mission depends on each of you playing your part. Logan, you'll be leading the assault."

Logan's jaw tightened at that, his eyes narrowing. "And her?" he asked, jerking his head toward you, almost aggressively .

You blinked, surprised by the sudden sharpness in his tone. "I'm going in as support," you replied, though you could feel the tension starting to rise in the room.

Logan's fists clenched on the table, his knuckles white. "You shouldn’t be going at all," he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the two of you. You felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck, but you forced yourself to hold your ground. "Logan, I’m capable of handling this," you said firmly with a hint of the anger starting to simmer beneath the surface.

Logan shot up from his chair, his voice a low growl as he spoke.

"You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t some game!”

You frowned in confusion and hurt– this had never been a game. You’ve always been strong, and able to hold your own against threats. Where was this coming from?

Everyone in the room waited with bated breaths, curious to see how the rest of the scene would play out. Charles frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Logan, your concerns are noted, but this mission requires all hands on deck. We’ve discussed this."

But Logan wasn’t listening anymore. He shook his head, anger radiating off him in waves.

"You’re all insane if you think I’m letting her go out there. Not a chance."

And with that, he stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. You sat there for a moment, processing what had just happened, before you got up and followed him, your heart pounding in your chest.

You found him outside, leaning against the wall, his back to you, shoulders heaving with barely contained rage. "Logan," you called out, your voice softer now, "You can’t do this."

He didn’t turn around, but you could hear the tightness in his tone. "I’m not letting you go, okay? I can’t."

"You don’t have the right to make that decision for me," you decided, stepping closer, trying to reach him through the wall of anger he’d built around himself. "I’m part of this team, and I’m going to do my part."

Finally, Logan turned to face you, his eyes blazing. "You don’t understand, alright? I’ve lost too many people. I’ve lost everything. I can’t lose you too."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But then you stepped closer, a slight tremble in your voice, trying to make sense of what he was saying”

But what about everyone else on the team? Hank? Scott? I’m not the only one at risk here."

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours for something, anything, that might convince him. But before you could say anything else, he shook his head, frustration etched into every line of his face. "I can’t," he whispered, and then he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words heavy on your heart.

For the next few days leading to the mission, he’d avoided you, barely saying a word, his silence like a knife twisting in your chest. Every time you entered a room, he’d walk right out–right past you–like you didn't exist. But you couldn’t let it end like that. So here you were, the night before operation, cornering him in the place he couldn’t escape, his room, demanding the truth.

Back in the present, the memory fades, but the emotions it brought with it linger, heavy and raw, the sting of his words hitting you harder than you’d like to admit.

"Why?" you question. He's never been against you going on a mission before.

Logan sighs, you can tell he's already losing his patience. "It's too dangerous."

You almost flinch back in offense. “Are you doubting me?” your voice is level, but it still carries all the hurt you’re feeling.

“It’s not about doubting you,” Logan snaps, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident. “It’s about keeping you safe.”

“Safe?” You scoff, anger beginning to rise to the surface. “You think I can’t handle myself? That I’m weak?”

“That’s not what I—” Logan starts, but you cut him off.

“Then what, Logan? What is it? You’ve always trusted me before. What’s different now?” Your hands clench into fists at your sides, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Do you think I’ve suddenly forgotten how to fight?”

“No,” he retorts, his voice rising. “But this mission is different. We’re going into the unknown, and I won’t let you get hurt because I couldn’t protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me!” you fire back, your own voice increasing in volume to match his. “I’m not some damsel in distress! I’m part of this team, just like you. I’ve trained, I’ve fought, and I’ve survived, just like you!”

He tilts his head back, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. “That’s not the point! You don’t understand what it’s like to see the person you care about most—” He stops himself, biting back the rest of the sentence, but the implication of his words hangs heavy.

However, you don’t seem to acknowledge it--unable to process his words in the midst of your rage.

“Then make me understand! Because all I see right now is you trying to control me, to make decisions for me like I’m some fragile little girl who can’t stand on her own.”

Logan’s eyes flash with anger and desperation. “You think I’m trying to control you? You think this is easy for me? Watching you walk into danger, knowing I might not be able to protect you, knowing I could lose you?” The words crack as they leave his mouth, and he takes a sharp breath, his chest heaving.

“I—” He hesitates, his usual confidence faltering. “I can’t lose you,” he reluctantly admits, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will.

You blink, taken aback. “What?”

“Dammit,” Logan mutters under his breath, his frustration reaching a breaking point. In a flash, he closes the distance between you, grabbing your arms and pushing you back until your spine hits the wall. The air is knocked from your lungs as you’re pinned between the cold surface and the heat radiating off him.

“I care about you, alright?” he growls, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with an intensity that makes your heart race. “More than I should. And it’s driving me insane because I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Logan…” You try to speak, but whatever you were going to say is caught in your throat, the raw emotion in his voice and the feel of his grip on you leaving you breathless.

“The thought of you going on this mission, of you getting hurt, or worse—” He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath in order to collect his thoughts. “I can’t handle it. I’ve lost too many people, and if something happens to you, I won’t survive it.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, torn between the anger that still simmers and the overwhelming feelings his confession brings. “So you’re pushing me away?” you manage to get out. “Trying to protect me by hurting me?”

His grip on your arms tightens, but not painfully—just enough to hold you in place, to make sure you’re listening.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he says, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “I’m trying to protect you because I care about you, because you mean something to me, and that scares the hell out of me." His gaze bores into yours, "You’re not weak, you’re not incapable—but if something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

You can see the anguish in his eyes, the way he’s battling with himself, caught between his instinct to protect and the reality of the situation. Your chest aches at the sight, your frustration dissolving as you realize just how deep his feelings for you run.

“Logan,” you say softly, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek. The gesture is gentle, meant to calm him, to show him that you’re not going to leave him, that nothing will happen to you. “I’m not going anywhere. You have to trust me.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch as if drawing strength from it. When he opens them again, the anger has faded, replaced by a vulnerability you’ve rarely seen in him.

“I do trust you,” he murmurs. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless”

Exhaling deeply, some of the tension leaves his body as he releases your arms, his hands lingering on your shoulders before sliding down to hold your hands. “Don’t get hurt,” he says.

For the first time since the argument started, a small, tentative smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “This isn't my first rodeo, Howlett.”

Logan chuckles, a deep, rich sound that seems to ease the remaining tension. “Never said it was,” he says, his voice softer now, though the intensity in his eyes remains. “Just… be safe, okay? I won’t be able to have my eyes on you at all times”

You nod, feeling a warmth blossom within you that has nothing to do with anger and everything to do with the man standing in front of you. “I will. I promise.”

Then, without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he’s afraid to let go. The warmth of his body surrounds you, and you can feel yourself slowly relax as you wrap your arms around his broad back, burying your face in his chest. His heartbeat thunders beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the quiet aftermath of the storm.

For a long moment, neither of you speak. Just holding each other, the room silent except for the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of clothing as he tightens his embrace, pulling you impossibly closer. The earlier anger, the fear, all of it disappears, leaving only the comforting presence of him against you, solid and real.

“I’m sorry,” Logan mumbles into your hair, sincerity coating his tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” you whisper back, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back. 

He nods against you, then he lets out a long, weary sigh. Almost reluctantly, he pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. When he finds it, his expression softens, and he dips his head to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, pausing there for a moment before his lips brush against your temple.

The tenderness of the gesture shoots throughout your body, straight to your heart, and you tilt your head up slightly, meeting his gaze. Without thinking, you lean up and capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s a gentle exchange, a promise, and an apology all at once, the final remnants of the fight ebbing away as his lips move against yours.

Logan deepens the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as he pours everything he can’t say into the kiss. You respond in kind, your arms tightening around him, losing yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him. Your lips part instinctively, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, the kiss becoming filled with even more need, more urgency.

Every touch, every breath shared between you ignites something primal, something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. Logan pulls you even closer, his other hand sliding down your back, gripping your waist as he presses you against him. It’s like he’s trying to imprint this moment, this connection, into his very soul.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are dark, filled with a desire that mirrors your own, and his thumb gently strokes your cheek as if grounding himself.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers.

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion as you give him a small, reassuring smile. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”

He pulls you into another embrace, and this time, he guides you both toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as if savouring the closeness between you. When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, he gently lowers you down, following you onto the soft mattress.

You shift to make room for him, and he pulls you into his arms once more, tucking you against his chest as you both settle under the covers. The room is quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of sheets as you snuggle closer, your legs tangling together as you find a comfortable position. His hand rests on your hip, holding you close, while your hand rests against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Pausing, you both lay there, the earlier argument a distant memory as the warmth of his body lulls you into a sense of calm. And then, Logan tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. He leans down, pressing another tender kiss to your lips, slow and sweet.

You return the kiss, sighing into it while your hand slides up to rest on his cheek, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. The kiss deepens, but it remains gentle, a comforting connection rather than the desperation of before. When you finally pull back, you’re both breathless, faces flushed in the heat of moment.

“Get some sleep,” Logan murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

You hum in agreement, feeling the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you. “You too,” you reply softly, your voice already tinged with sleep.

He pulls you closer, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before settling back against the pillows, his arms securely around you. You rest your head on his chest, your eyes fluttering shut as you let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a peaceful sleep. The last thing you’re aware of is the warmth of his arms around you, the feeling of safety and comfort that only he can bring.

------

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one guys. Thanks for all the notes on my first two fics!

[milswrites]

Sweetened Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Dream Weaver Fem!Reader

Summary: Having access to the people of Velaris' dreams was a gift you did not take for granted. Having access to your mate's heated dreams? Absolutely delicious.

Warnings: 18 + mdni (f oral, p in v, sex dreams).

Word count: 2.6k

You watched on from the balcony as rosy fingered dawn made her appearance. The warm light of the morning sun bled into the horizon, casting an amber glow over the sleeping streets of Velaris.

It was early — far too early for you to be awake on your day off. And yet, despite the remnants of drowsiness which still lingered in your system, you found yourself incapable of succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep.

Rather, you welcomed the gentle breeze of the morning air as it kissed your reddened cheeks on the balcony of your home, the wind working to quell the heated blush which had risen in the wake of your untimely stirring.

You were no stranger to being awake at unreasonable hours — it was the gruelling nature of your job. Gifting dreams to the slumbering citizens of the Night Court. Yet, in all your years of working, never had you been disturbed by another person's dreams as you rested. Not until now.

The soft, lingering touches as his gentle hands explored your curves.

The salacious cry of pleasure which slipped from his parted lips.

The mouth-watering drag of his hips languidly meeting your own.

Azriel was dreaming.

Dreaming of you.

The sensuous image of Azriel's lustful fantasy, alongside the blinding wave of arousal being passed down the bond, was enough to leave you flushed. Dawn's cool air provided you with no respite from your mate's titillating thoughts as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer with each minute passed.

The heated kiss of his soft lips trailing across the sensitive skin of your neck.

The grounding touch of his calloused hands laced between your own.

The desperate groan which followed each passionate thrust he delivered.

It was impossible to block him out — whatever meagre control you once held over your magic had since been relinquished. Unable to change the course of his temptuous dream, your mind focussed solely on the primal surge of your mate's pleasure as it travelled down the bond. Finding every ounce of him overwhelming — your swirling thoughts were consumed by Azriel, and Azriel alone.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Lost in the haze of the male's lustful vision, images of his mouth latched onto your skin caused a pleasant warmth to pool between your legs. Desire rising in your chest, you failed to notice that Azriel's dream had ceased. The familiar hum of your unruly magic had long since subsided and yet, even in the absence of its presence, your amorous thoughts remained solely on him.

Absorbed by the insatiable pulse of your growing hunger, you startled as the low voice of your mate called out from behind you. The remnants of sleep clinging on to Azriel's words as he huskily uttered, "my love, do you ever rest?"

"The city is sleeping, and so I'm awake," you answered simply, pausing for a moment as your mate's tender hands came to wrap around your middle — Azriel's welcoming warmth enveloping you as his chest firmly pressed against your back. You released a small sigh of contentment at his action, your head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as you continued, "when you sleep, your . . . thoughts -" Azriel's nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a wave of pleasure washing over your body as his soft hum urged you to continue, "-they're quite loud."

A low sound of amusement rumbled in Azriel's chest at your words. Yet, the male's efforts remained focussed on leaving a trail of languidly placed kisses along the expanse of your neck, until — finally — the ghost of his heated breath enticingly blew against your ear as the Shadowsinger confessed, "I was dreaming about you."

You were helpless in stopping the quiet moan which slipped from your lips as Azriel gently tugged you closer towards him, goosebumps rising on your skin as the light touch of his growing member brushed tantalisingly against your back. Breathless, you replied, "I know . . . I saw it."

"And was this your doing?" Azriel enquired, a small cry of frustration escaping your mouth as the male halted his sensuous actions. His teasing lips torturously hovering over the sweet spot on your neck as he continued to press, "have you been blessing my dreams again, my love?"

"Not this time," you answered truthfully. Whilst soothing Azriel's restless slumber and unsettling nightmares came naturally to you, never have you had the courage to bless your mate's dreams with the sweetness that he was referring to, "those thoughts were yours alone."

"A pity," Azriel concluded, the male lessening the grip of his arms around your waist as he devilishly smirked down at your faltering expression, "I suppose if you've already seen it, I needn't provide you with a demonstration — oh, but what a sweet dream it was."

You pouted at the absence of Azriel's searing touch as you turned to face the male. Your hand moving to slowly graze your mate's bare chest as you lifted your playful gaze to meet his darkened eyes, "now that you mention it . . . I may need a reminder of exactly what it was that I saw."

"Is that so?" the Shadowsinger asked with a raised brow, his wings twitching with a mind of their own as he noted the pleasant shift in your honeyed scent.

"Hmm . . . how did it start again?" you mused, an alluring smile working its way onto your face as you moved your lips to lightly brush against his own, Azriel's breath catching in his throat at your teasing contact as you seductively whispered, "like this?"

"Actually," Azriel's wandering hands slipped down to meet the back of your thighs, the male swiftly lifting you up into his arms as he began to retreat back into the comforting warmth of your bedroom. The promise of a fulfilling morning upon his lips as he purred, "I think it began with my head between your legs."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The experienced swipe of his salacious tongue against your slick.

The cooling bliss of his restless shadows as they moved to explore the soft contours of your writhing body.

The heated lust in his sultry gaze as he worked to keep his sight on your hooded eyes.

Azriel devoured you like a man starved.

And yet, despite the fervent nature of his actions, your mate's passion was delivered with an air of intimacy. The Shadowsinger's gentle hands moving to lace between your own as he softly groaned in satisfaction against your dripping sex.

It was almost too much to bear — your back arching from the bed in response to the carnal swipe of Azriel's tongue against your pulsing heat. A low whine falling from your lips as the male contentedly lapped up the taste of your sweetened arousal.

You mewled when Azriel turned his attention towards your clit, your mouth parting breathlessly as the male lazily trailed small circles around your aching bud. Gripping his hands tighter, you helplessly bucked against his face, your eyes closing in ecstasy as you lowly begged for more.

It was utter bliss.

Your senses were wholly consumed by your mate as he eagerly worked to bring you to completion, each delicious movement succeeding in ebbing away the last dregs of drowsiness which still remained from your early wakening.

Yet, your feeling of intense pleasure was gone all too soon, Azriel having pulled away just as you were on the precipice of your high. Groaning at the absence of his heated touch, your eyes fluttered open to meet your mate's mischievous gaze, a matching smirk etched onto his handsome face.

A lucky female indeed.

"Is this stirring your memory yet, my love?" Azriel crooned, the male slowly crawling up the length of your body until his swollen lips came to brush against your own. That same glint of unbridled mischief reflecting in your own eyes as you hummed your reply, "possibly . . ." Your hand leisurely trailed down Azriel's chest until it came to rest upon his hardened cock, "but I may need a little reminder of what came next."

A frenzied growl broke from Azriel's throat at your action, the male's eyes growing dark with lust before he finally sealed his lips against your own.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The kiss was searing — a passionate clash of tongues and teeth. Your mouths moved together in a wondrous synchrony as the two of you sought to sate your growing desire.

You were insatiable; wanting nothing more than to be consumed by all Azriel had to offer.

His sweetened scent.

His delectable taste.

His heated touch.

Every last inch of him was intoxicating.

You needed your fix of him, and so, desperate to quell the pulsing ache which had risen in your core at his fervid touch, you impatiently rolled your hips against his own. A feverish moan spilling from your lips as the head of Azriel's leaking cock brushed tantalisingly against your dripping folds.

Softly chuckling at your growing frustration, Azriel playfully nipped at the push skin on your lips as he pulled away from the kiss. Admiration pooling in your mate's hazel eyes, he stole a moment to take in the radiance of your morning glow. His once darkened gaze softening as it swept over your heavenly features, the male's mouth parted in awe as he quietly asked, "am I still dreaming?"

You blushed at the innocence of Azriel's question, your hand moving to lovingly rest against your mate's face as your thumb began to gently caress his pinkish cheeks. A soothing smile crossing your lips, you replied with a question of your own, "and what would you do if you were still dreaming?"

Azriel lent forwards, the heated touch of his breath softly tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he purred, "I would do this." The male placed a gentle kiss into the crook of your neck, your body quivering with anticipation as he began to trail his mouth lower. "And this," he uttered, sweetly placing another kiss onto the curve of your breast. "And also this," he finished, his lips moving to ghost over your pert nipple. Azriel's mouth parted into a soft 'o' as the male lightly blew onto your stiffened peak, a warm smile stretching across his face before his swollen lips finally came to close around your breast.

Sighing in bliss, you arched into the male's touch, your body writhing underneath his own as he delicately sucked at your tender skin. "Is that all?" you taunted breathlessly as Azriel moved his mouth to tend to your other breast, whining as your mate teasingly rolled his tongue around your peaked nipple.

Yet, the wondrous sensation which had risen from your mate's salacious kisses did nothing to sate your ever-growing desire. And so, needing more, you ground yourself against the male's hardened cock — your eyes heavy with want as you urged him to act.

So Azriel did. A soft cry spilling from your lips as the male slowly pushed his cock into your pulsing heat, your mate euphorically mumbling into your skin as he did so, "gods, you're perfect... my beautiful, beautiful mate." 

You flushed at both his sweetened words and the pleasant feeling of his cock as he fully sheathed himself inside you. A languorous moan emitted past your lips as he stretched you fully; the sound turning into one of incredulous frustration as your mate failed to move. Locking your legs around his waist, you impatiently ground your hips against his, asking — no begging — the male for more. "Eager little thing," Azriel whispered as he began to move his hips at a torturously slow pace, "let me enjoy you, my love."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was impossible for Azriel to look away; his drunken gaze lust-filled and half-lidded as the male fought against his growing pleasure to keep his eyes locked on you.

On the delectable bounce of your plush breasts as they followed the slow rhythm of his passionate thrusts.

On the darkness which had consumed your irises as lust and desire took hold of your gaze.

On the shape of your parted lips as you let out sweet sounds of pleasure as you milked his warmed cock.

If this were a dream, then Azriel wished never to wake — the male longing to stay in his slumber forever, so as to memorise every intricate detail of your face.

Craving a more intimate connection, Azriel entwined his hands with your own, his face moving to burrow into the curve of your neck before softened words of love and adoration began to tumble from your mate's awestruck lips.

Azriel gritted his teeth as he quickened his pace, the male chasing after the addicting high of his release. His heart pounding at the way you clenched around his cock as your own organism grew nearer. And it was there, the sweet sound of your mewling slowly working to coax your mate's eyes open, that Azriel once more bore witness to your ethereal glow. 

A bright warmth radiated from your skin, the soft light reflecting in Azriel's reverential gaze. It was as though you had been blessed by the stars themselves; your skin holding a golden lustre which made you look utterly irresistible.

You were a gift.

To Prythian.

To Velaris.

To Azriel.

Basking in the light of your other-worldly power, Azriel's grip on your hands tightened as he continued his bruising rhythm, his wings twitching as he took in your godly form beneath him. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped your lips at the male's deep strokes, his fervent passion succeeding in tipping you over the edge of bliss as the heated wave of your orgasm finally washed over you.

Guided by your glowing light, Azriel continued to chase after his own release. The male's thrusts grew desperate as he moved deeper and deeper inside of you with each stroke delivered. Until finally, Azriel reached his own high. The low tones of his frenzied groan reaching your ears as your mate came undone, ribbons of his white hot cum painting your walls as he did so.

You both lay there for a moment, the weight of Azriel's chest heaving against your own as the two of you fought to catch your breaths.

Stealing a moment to bask in the peaceful silence of dawn, you admired the male's post-sex glow. The glistening sheen of his sweat-soaked brow, the delicate curl of his tousled hair, the satisfied smile which lazily stretched across his swollen lips.

It was difficult to believe that Azriel was real and not simply a conjuring of your own imagination — a manifestation of your sweetest dreams. Yet, the grounding touch of his hands clasped between yours reminded you that this was real; that he was real.

It was only when the crushing wave of your highs had subsided, and the golden glow of your shimmering skin had dwindled, did Azriel then then pull himself from you. The male slumping onto the bed by your side, his large wings dropping in fatigue before he pulled you into the the warm embrace of his arms.

Softly sighing at the cool touch of his wandering shadows which still trailed across the length of your heated skin, you began to tease, "Was that everything you dreamed of then?"

"Everything and more," Azriel replied, his thumb working to rub small circles into your hip as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck once more, the male placing a gentle kiss onto your skin before he continued, "what a lucky male I am, to have had my dreams turned into reality by a being as beautiful as you."

You blushed at his words, amazed at the effect that the male still had on you even after years of being together. Glowing in domestic bliss, you answered, "perhaps I may have to start blessing your dreams myself if this is the treatment I'll receive. A good morning, indeed."

Azriel sleepily chuckled into your shoulder at your reply, his bright eyes finding yours before he warmly stated, "It's always a good morning when I wake to the sight of the sun between my arms."

Notes: so I'm back on the writing grind (hopefully)! I have a few more ideas for this pairing so let me know if you want to see more of them! Thank you to @itsswritten and @writingcroissant for sparking this idea and to @sarawritestories , @ninthcircleofprythian and @daycourtofficial for dealing with my mental breakdowns whilst I wrote this lol.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

[shrenvents]

Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️

A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)

Divided Attention

Professor Howlett II

Part one

Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public

Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.

From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.

The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.

With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.

But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.

As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.

What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.

Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.

...

The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.

They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.

It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.

A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.

His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.

Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.

"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.

I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.

As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.

Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.

He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.

Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'

Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.

So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.

It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.

I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...

While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.

Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.

"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."

"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.

"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.

"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.

Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.

I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.

"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'

I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.

"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.

Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.

He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.

"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.

"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"

His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.

Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.

"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.

My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.

Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.

"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”

When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”

Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.

"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.

"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.

"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.

Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."

"I haven't been avoiding you-"

I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.

When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"

"And what?"

"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."

I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.

My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.

"What?" He bites.

"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."

Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.

"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.

"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"

The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.

"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.

I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.

For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.

"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.

Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.

"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.

Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.

"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.

A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.

Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.

“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.

I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.

My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.

Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.

"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.

Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.

"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."

Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.

"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.

He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."

I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.

My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.

[thetriumphantpanda]

freedom felt like summer | joel miller

Summary | Weeks of flirting back and forth with your neighbour Joel all comes to a head when he makes sure every inch of you in covered in suncream.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.6K

Warnings | Explicit - reader wears a bikini and uses sun cream but is otherwise a blank slate. Alcohol consumption. Swearing, flirting, and dirty talk. Explicit smut - oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie. No outbreak au and no use of y/n.

Authors Note | We've had a slither of sun in the UK and this is what happens. Big thanks to @undercoverpena for the shorts idea ;) I hope you enjoy! If you do, please consider reblogging, leaving comments or leaving a tip via my Ko-Fi.

Divider by the wonderful @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

There’s nothing quite like an Austin summer. Hot sun beating down, but with the new pool your parents had built when you’d moved out and their fully stocked fridge of soda and ice, it wasn’t too bad at all.

They’d gone on their annual holiday, two weeks in Mexico, which meant you had two weeks of lounging by the pool, soaking up the sun and bleeding them for their food and drinks. No responsibilities, is what you’d told yourself, laptop shut and job applications waiting, whilst you soaked the sun into your skin and made margaritas too strong once the clock struck 1pm.

The heat across your skin had dried the chlorine water quickly, coconut scented suncream slathered across every inch you could reach, not worrying about your back because it was pressed against the back of the lounger. You’re just started to drift off, eyes closing behind your sunglasses, when a voice jolts you.

“You manage to reach your back with that?”

There’s a small smirk that flashes across your mouth, quickly bitten away by your teeth as you sit up and turn around a little, looking over to the fence where Joel Miller is leaning over, pointing to the bottle of suncream on the small table next to you.

“Hard to reach there when it’s just me,” You shrug, “But it’s okay, it’s not getting any of the sun anyhow.”

He shakes his head and makes a tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t mean you shouldn’t try and cover it,” He says, sounding more like your dad than you’d care to admit, “The sun ain’t gonna look at that lounger and think it can’t burn you.”

“Well, I'm here on my own,” You offer, “Unless you’re gonna volunteer to smear it on my back, Miller, I'm gonna have to risk it.”

You can see him thinking over the fence, wondering if this is a good idea, much like he’s been thinking since you came home - degree done, jobs waiting - he’d flirted with you at your dad’s cookout in honour of you graduating, swapped numbers with you the day your parents left for vacation ‘in case you needed him’, and has spent the last week making any excuse to peek his head over the fence and talk to you, specifically when you’re out in your bikini, mostly when you’re dripping wet from coming out of the pool.

He holds his finger up and then disappears from view, only to come back seconds later through the gate at the bottom of your garden that connects your land with his. Your dad had been weary of it at first, but as soon as he’d met Joel, they’d hit it off, and now the gate is used more than the front door when they want to drink together.

He’s dressed simply, a pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt. Too stifling for you, you think, but you know he’s spent most of his life on building sites, so he must be used to the heat of the sun on his skin. Joel comes to a stop near the small table, but instead of picking up the bottle of cream, he opts for the half-empty glass of margarita you’d made not too long ago. He takes a sip and makes a face, which makes you laugh.

“Never understand how you women like this stuff.”

Setting the glass down, he picks up the bottle of cream and flips the lid, motioning for you to sit up, which you do, turning on the lounger so your back is facing him. The bottle of cream is really on its last legs, coming to the very end, so you can hear the bottle express more air than cream the first time he squeezes it. You hear him rubbing his hands together and then feel him step a little closer to your back.

“Ready?” He asks, voice low, to which you nod your head.

Then his hands are on you and it’s better than you ever had thought. They’re rough against your skin, but the way they’re gliding across your back is gentle. His hands drag the cream down your spine to the band of your bikini top, before he’s working it into your skin, all the way up to the nape of your neck. You can feel your head tipping forward, struggling to stifle a groan when you feel him gently shift one of the straps of your top down so he can bring the cream up and over your shoulders, his hand big enough that his fingers brush your collarbone. He repeats his actions on the other side, making sure to bring the straps back up when he’s done, then he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“All done.”

“You’re a professional at that, Miller,” You praise, “Spend a lot of time rubbing suncream into girls backs, do you?”

“All the time.” Is his dry response as you move to lay back down.

When you turn your head, he’s already walking away.

“You can stay,” You offer, “If you’ve got nothing else to do.”

He stands still for a second before he turns over his shoulder, “Let me change and then I’ll come back.”

He’s doing this on purpose, you think, as you watch him glide under the water again, head dipping up as his arms work him down the pool where he comes to a stop, taking wet hands to slick his hair back from his forehead.

“You ever thought of having your own built?” You ask, sipping from the fresh margarita you’d made.

He shakes his head, “Thought about it a fair bit when Sarah was younger but now it would be wasted on me,” He explains, “Besides, I can always come and use yours,” You watch him bend his knees a little in the water so his chest is submerged, “Kinda hot out there, why don’t you come in a cool off.”

Joel has a point, even though it’s mid-afternoon now, the heat is still just as strong as it was when it was midday, so you drag yourself as carefully as you can manage off the lounger and plop yourself down on the side of the pool, dipping your legs in as Joel swims over. You expect him to stop, but he doesn’t, just puts his big palms on your upper thighs and spreads your legs wide, settling himself between them. You lean back, palms against the warm stone behind you, and push your sunglasses onto your head so he can see your eyes.

“Finally gonna make your move, huh?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Somethin’ like that.”

His palms are dragging up your thighs, resting on the band of your bikini bottoms, looking up at you like he’s waiting for permission, which you gladly give with a nod of your head. His fingers are hooking into the waistband and dragging down, you lift your hips to make it easier for him, and watch as he steps back in the water to drag them down your legs, leaving them forgotten on the side of the pool as he spreads your thighs wide. You’re not even think about the neighbours on the other side as you watch him, eyes focused on your bare cunt in front of him.

“Like what you see, Miller?” You ask, with a smirk, reaching your hand down your body, using two fingers to gently spread your folds in front of his face, dragging one up the length of your pussy to play with your clit.

You swear he growls at you, big hand gripping your wrist to drag your hand away from your core. He steps back between your thighs and uses the hand not gripping your wrist to push you back a little. Then his mouth is pressing hot kisses to your thighs, working up and across your tummy, back down the other side until you’re squirming and ready to beg.

You can feel the back of his knuckles drag up and down the folds of your cunt, “You gonna be wet if I touch you?” He asks, tone low.

“Why don’t you find out.”

So he does, using a single finger to dip between your folds, dragging down gently until he’s pressing it into your cunt, easy because you are in fact already dripping for him. You feel him work his finger in and out of you, before he’s adding a second and curling them up inside you at just the right angle to have your head tipping back and a moan dropping from your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, Darlin’,” Joel speaks, “Do you want next door knowin’ what you’re up to?”

You’re about to come back with some smart retort when he leans forward and uses the tip of his tongue to flick gently against your clit, making it all the more harder to keep your moans at bay. Joel continues the light flick of his tongue against you whilst his fingers more in and out of your cunt, until he switches things up and wraps his lips around your clit, suckling it into his mouth whilst his fingers remain buried deep inside you, curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion to caress that perfect spot inside you.

Your hands fly to his hair, tangling deep in his chocolate curls, keeping his face flush to where he’s working you towards the edge.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” You breathe out, “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna come.”

At your words, he doubles down, moving his fingers faster inside of you, sucking at your clit with more vigour. He pushes you over the edge easily, easier than anyone ever has before, legs shaking, skin alight, a silent scream sent forth to the sky as his mouth works you through it. Your body feels like jelly when he finally pulls away from you, but there’s enough energy left through your body that you can pull your legs from the water and get up onto your knees.

“Get out of the water, cowboy,” You murmur, bending down to press your lips to Joel’s, tasting yourself on his mouth, “I wanna fuck.”

You push yourself back from him, shuffling back to let him pull himself out of the water. His swim shorts are wet, rivulets of water dripping into pools at his feet, but all your eyes can really focus on is the outline of his cock through his wet shorts. He’s hard and from what you can tell, he’s big. It makes your mouth water, makes you want to wrap your lips around it, but it seems like he has other ideas for you. He’s dragging you up from your knees, walking you over to the low patio chairs, where he sits himself down on one and promptly drags you onto his lap, your thighs wide as they straddle him in the chair.

Your naked pussy is dragging against the wet bulge of his jeans, his hands moving your hips as you lean down again to kiss him, the endless flirting and build up over the last few weeks finally coming to a head as you let your tongue run against his, his hands lifting your hips a little so he can reach between the two of you to pull his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

You can feel the thick line of him running through your folds, wide head of his cock brushing against your clit as he moves, making you moan into his mouth just as he pulls away.

“You wanna sit on it?” He asks lowly, hands moving back to grip your bare ass, spreading you wide.

“I do.”

“Go on then, darlin’,” He speaks, “Show me what you’re made of.”

He helps raise your hips, letting you reach between the two of you to grip his cock, lining him up with your seeping entrance, sinking down just enough to let the tip of his cock notch into you. You lean your forehead against his, both damp with sweat, and revel in the fact that his mouth drops open in a sigh of pleasure just at the same time as yours does. You ease yourself down onto his cock a little more, letting the slight burn and stretch of him easing in, inch by inch, set your skin aflame.

You still once you’ve sunk down fully onto him, letting yourself get used to his length nestled inside you. You feel your cunt fluttering around him, and you know he can feel it too, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you start lifting yourself off him and sink back down.

“Shit, baby,” He breathes, leaning up to catch your mouth with his briefly, “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

He makes you smile when he says things like that, it makes you bold, makes you lift up on him, almost all the way, and then sink back down, but harder and faster than before. As you move, Joel lets go of his grip on your ass and brings them to your bikini top, slipping the straps down, then pulling the material over your tits. He leans down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it until it’s a stiff peak, switching sides to give the same attention to the other.

Once he’s given enough attention to your tits, he takes your hips in his hands, guiding your movements from bouncing to grinding, his cock sitting right within the depths of you as you move backwards and forwards on him. Joel brings a hand between you, using his thumb to draw rough circles over your clit.

“I need to feel you,” He breathes against your skin, “Need to feel you come on my cock.”

“Just…” You breathe right back, “Don’t stop, keep doing that, I’m right there.”

Joel leans up, mouth hot against the skin of your neck as he starts to suck at your skin, tip of his cock brushing just perfectly against that spot inside you as the familiar feeling at your spine builds and builds until it’s crashing over you. You bury your head in his neck, damp with sweat and the remnants of pool water, letting out the quietest moan you can manage as your pussy pulls tight around his length and you feel yourself gush against him, his thumb continuing to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You gotta tell me where,” He mutters urgently, “I’m close baby, where do you want me.”

“Inside,” You beg against his skin, realising it was muffled, you turn your head and speak again, “Inside me Joel, please.”

It only takes a few more deep grinds of your hips before he’s gripping your hips tight to keep you still, spilling inside you, warmth spreading through your cunt and as groans your name quietly, so as not to alert the neighbours as to what they just missed in your backyard.

He pulls you close, arms wrapping around your lower back, both of you catching your breath for a moment. You press a kiss to his chest, nuzzling your face into his warm skin as his softening cock slips from your tight heats. You can feel the trickle of his cum down your inner thigh, but make no effort to move, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

“Same time tomorrow?” You mumble against his skin.

“Same time tomorrow, baby.”

[ilyrafe]

𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!

word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)

a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!

it’s almost like a sixth sense.

rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 

when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.

“where were you? why did you leave me here?”

he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.

even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.

“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.

his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.

“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.

“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.

he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.

“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”

“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”

is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?

“you can read on the bed.”

“you won’t mind the lamp on?”

“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”

you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.

while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.

every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.

sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.

deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.

being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.

when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.

“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.

“it’s almost four.”

“and you’re going to sleep now?”

“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.

(...)

rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.

your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.

he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).

you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.

“go back to sleep.” he whispers.

“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”

“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.

“i’m okay, rafey.”

rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.

“you’re gonna be tired.”

“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”

rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.

“you have insomnia?”

“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”

you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.

after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.

“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”

“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.

“well, i’m just one call away.”

you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.

silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.

he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.

(...)

only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.

rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?

you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.

impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.

“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m studying for my exams.”

“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”

“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”

“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.

“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.

“y/n, please go to sleep.”

something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.

“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”

before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.

as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.

the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.

he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.

“what are you doing here, rafe?”

“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”

“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”

“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”

“i don’t wanna have sex.”

“i’m not talking about sex.”

oh.

“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”

“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”

you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?

“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”

“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”

it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.

“okay.”

rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.

you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.

the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.

you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.

the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.

“are your parents home?” he asks.

“no, why?”

“so i could have come through the door, huh.”

“yeah.” you laugh.

a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.

rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.

“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.

your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.

thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.

“nothin’. close your eyes.”

you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.

that tried to drown his own sister.

why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?

probably.

(...)

as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.

when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.

the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.

when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.

he didn’t leave?

it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.

“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.

“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”

you laugh.

“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”

“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”

you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.

for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[dwaekkicidal]

Who are you calling a baby?

˚ʚJeongin x Fem!readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: You decide to join Stray Kids in teasing their maknae, your boyfriend, about being a "little baby." Let's just say he doesn't take very lightly to it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, mean!dom Jeongin (🤭), rough sex, degradation (calls u stupid and 'dirty girl'), traffic light system brought up once, hair pulling (once), spanking, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap ur willy also pee after sex), aftercare mentioned but not thoroughly, think that's all?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I was actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure trying not to make this into a "sir/daddy" thing (I should've. it prob would have been so much better bc i hate this grrr)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

You laugh along with Chan as he and Seungmin sit beside you, the three of you watching as Hyunjin lets his cuteness aggression loose on Jeongin. Ruffling his hair and throwing his whole body weight onto the poor maknae. They're taking one last break from their dance practice, deciding to go a few more rounds before heading home.

"You'll always be our baby, Jeongin~" Han sings to Jeongin, to no particular rhythm. Jeongin laughs but desperately crawls out of Hyunjin's grasp, seeking protection from a spot on the floor between your legs.

"He's just a babyy! My lil' baby boy~'' You tease at him, smiling fondly before pinching his cheeks. He looks up at you and pouts cutely.

"I'm not a baby.."

"Yes you are! You're our cute little baby~ You prove my point when you make a face like that!" You laugh, brushing his hair back to make it more presentable after Hyunjin's attack before grabbing his chin and squishing his cheeks to prove your point even further. A few of the guys around you laugh and join in, poking and tickling at Jeongin while throwing in comments here and there about him being their Baby Bread, him laughing as he tries to protect himself from their attacks.

Eventually the 7 of them stand up and walk towards their spots on the floor. Your boyfriend sits on the floor a little longer, catching his breath as he looks up at you, staring into your eyes with a blank expression. Your eyes catch his and you tilt your head down at him, smiling. He stares for a few moments longer, expression unchanging, before quickly standing up and walking towards his dedicated spot. You think nothing of it and pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling on a random choice of social media and getting comfortable.

After some time of hearing the same part of a song on repeat, you feel a pair of eyes burning into you. Looking up, you see the boys discussing a mistake somebody made. As you scan the boys, you meet your boyfriend's gaze. His eyes boring into you with another unreadable expression before he narrows his eyes towards you and turns back to the mirror, getting into position. You furrow your eyebrows at the back of his head, staring at him a little longer in hopes that he would turn around and explain himself. Is he upset about the teasing? Surely he knows I'm just messing around.. Once you realize that won't happen you sigh and shake your head, turning your attention to our phone once again. Assuming that he would get over this "fit" soon.

Not long after this, the guys all agree to call it a night. Jeongin opted to stay at your place for the weekend since you both had the next few days off. "I just want to spend some sweet time with my girlfriend," he explains to his hyungs. But the tightening grip on the back of your neck tells you otherwise.

The ride to your apartment was quiet aside from the radio. His hand never left your thigh and occasionally squeezed when he felt your gaze on him. Before you know it, the both of you are walking into your bedroom

"Are you okay? You've been super quiet for the last few hours." You ask, setting your bag down on the dresser and taking your (his) sweater off, landing it on the edge of the bed. You take a seat as he turns to you, his arms cross and his expression blank asides from the bump you see on his cheek. His tongue poking his cheek out in what you can only assume is annoyance or anger.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know.. you've been super quiet since the little teasing fiasco earlier.. Are you actually mad?" He raises an eyebrow at the way you enunciate the word 'actually,' but chooses to stay quiet and frowns down at you.

"Oh my gosh.. you're actually upset?" You laugh, standing up and taking a step forward so that you're in front of him "Baby...." You start as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, planting a kiss on the corner of his lip before continuing, "You know I was just messing with you, it's all playful banter. You're my baby and I'm yours, there's nothing wrong with that. I'm sorry that you got upset." You giggle, showering him in kisses before you feel his arms unfold and reach behind you to embrace you.

Melting into his embrace, you litter more kisses on his face, waiting for a response. When you still don't get one, you pull away slightly to check on him only to be met with a smile. One that doesn't quite meet his eyes. One you thought was genuine until one of his hands trails into your hair, grabbing a tight handful, and tilting your head back forcibly. Your eyes screw shut as you wince, whimpering when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

He plants a few kisses silently before pulling back and smirking, loosening his grip so you look at him again. "What happened to all that laughing? Fox got your tongue?"

You pout and open your mouth to say something before he pushes you forcefully onto the bed. It catches you off guard and you take a second to try to even your breathing as he leans down, pushing your back to meet the bed and hovering over you. His lips ghost around your jawline and your neck, occasionally leaving wet kisses and small marks and rendering you breathless.

"C'mon baby... keep running your pretty little mouth.." He says, one of his hands by your head moving to slowly trail down your body until he meets your waist. He caresses your hips softly before continuing, "My hyungs aren't here to protect you anymore. So let's see if you still think you're oh so funny.." You let out a gargled noise as he bites down on your collarbone, moaning lightly as his hand moves to unbuckle your jeans, pulling them off you in one fell swoop as he pulls away from your neck.

When you don't say anything he lands an open handed smack on your thigh. "Why is the 'little boy' like me taking control? Use your words like the big girl that you swear you are."

You whimper at the sting on your thigh, but look him in the eyes and suddenly it's your turn to pout. "I said I was sorry baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." He lands another smack in the same area, not liking your response. He rubs the area to soothe the pain, but also as a warning of what's to come.

He leans forward and the other hand grabs your chin, making you keep eye contact, before leaning forward, "Let's see how far acting coy will get you. Sit up."

You feel your stomach tighten at his demandingness, but you listen and sit up on shaky arms. He pulls your shirt over your head before pulling off his own, throwing both behind him without looking.

"Color?" He asks, as he pushes your legs apart with his knee.

"Green" you whisper back, breathing heavily as he bends down to place a kiss on your stomach, pulling your underwear from under your ass and down your legs. You feel him smirk against your stomach, "Of course it is... dirty, dirty girl."

He trails small kisses down your stomach at an agonizingly slow pace. Eventually he reaches your pelvis, he swats at your thigh when your leg twitches in anticipation before meeting your eyes and speaking up again. "I want your eyes on me at all times. No closing your eyes, no looking away. Okay?"

You nod your head and watch as he shoots you a crooked smile, making sure to hold eye contact with you before leaning in and placing a kiss directly on your clit. Immediately two of his long fingers softly rub along your folds, gathering your wetness before you feel them slide against your gummy walls, quickly finding the spot that has your legs weak. He makes a good pace off the bat; not too fast and not too slow. Your eyes still stare into his, and you let out moans as he fingers you while licking his lips. He leans down further and places kisses on your inner thigh and uses his free hand to undo his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers just enough so his cock bounces out. He strokes himself a few times and tilts his head at you teasingly as he makes a particularly hard thrust. His gaze moves between your legs as he adds a third finger and frees his other hand to massage your clit.

With his piercing gaze not on your face, you quickly forget your previous promise to keep your eyes on him and you throw your head back. You let out a particularly loud moan as your eyes close and your legs shake, struggling to stay spread. He suddenly pulls his hands away from you and lands a harsh slap to your clit, pushing your legs apart when they clamp shut from the sudden sting. You squeal loudly in surprise and your head jolts forward, your eyes opening to look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and tears pricking your eyes.

"Do you not know how to listen? Or are you just trying to piss me off again?" He grumbles, frowning at you as he pushes your knees to your chest. He holds you in place as he lands another smack to your cunt. "I was gonna be nice about it and spoil you, but since you don't know how to follow basic instructions, we'll do this my way. Be good for fucking once and hold your legs for me, yeah?" He spits out, pulling his hands away when you shakily hug the backs of your knees. He rubs his tip against your folds repeatedly before dipping just the tip in.

" 'M sorry-yyyy!" You try saying before he cuts you off and bottoms out. He groans and leans forward, towering over you and placing his hands beside your head, planting himself above you. He pulls out all the way to the tip before locking eyes with you and smiling smugly at you, "Yeah? You're sorry? My pretty little baby is sorry?" When you open your mouth to respond he suddenly thrusts all the way into the hilt, pulling a loud moan from your lips as you furrow your eyebrows, closing your eyes yet again.

"Aww, baby... What am I gonna do with you.. Too cock-dumb to follow basic instructions…” he laughs at you before finding a fast pace, one that has you seeing stars as he pounds into you repeatedly. The angle you're in makes him hit all the right angles constantly while still making him go so deep. So much so that you feel him hit your cervix a few times, making you whimper as you look up at him with teary eyes.

You moan out his name as your grip on your legs tighten, already feeling so close after cumming not long ago.

"Don't worry baby, sit there nice and pretty for me and I'll take care of you. I'll let it slide just this once and 'll fuck you nice and stupid, okay? Though.. I'm not so sure it will be any different than how stupid you normally are?"

"Pleaseee" You whine out, a few tears finally falling at the mix of his words and the constant stimulation. He laughs at you and moves one of his hands to your mouth, tapping your lips to let him in. You open your mouth enough so that his thumb enters your mouth, and you knowingly suck on his fingers. Once he deems it wet enough he pulls his thumb out and moves it to where you two meet, messily rub circles onto your clit.

"Jeongin... 's so goodd" You cry out at the extra stimulation, nails digging further into your legs.

He leans back and his free hand reaches forward to smear your tears into your cheek, "Stop crying baby, you can take it. mmmmmm.. You will take it. You owe me for being such a bitch earlier and trying to embarrass me in front of my hyungs."

You moan loudly and throw your head back, tilting it slightly to look up at him, "Fffuck baby! I.. I promise, I swear I didn't mean it like-" Before you can finish he grabs your face and pulls you forward, "C'mon, babe, I know you can make up a better excuse than that. Or are you too cock-dumb to use your pretty little head? Hm??" He teases, ending his sentence with another slap to your clit, one that makes you loosen your hold on your legs.

Your eyes gloss over and he smirks, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaning back and continuing his brutal pace. When he feels you grip him stronger he knows you're close and he pushes further, in order to get you there faster. "You gonna come? Huh, pretty little thing?" You nod and moan mindlessly as you look up at him, mumbling out mindless pleads before he pushes your knees into your chest again and chases both of your highs.

"Then cum, stupid baby. Milk me dry, okay? Be a good girl baby." He says out of breath, as he leans forward and pulls you into a kiss. One of his hands comes down on your ass and it's enough to send you over the edge. You're squeezing him like a vice and it's enough for him to finish next. He breaks the kiss to groan, pulling away to stare where the two of you meet, watching his cum get fucked out of you with each thrust. Once he rides out both of your highs, he leans forward to leave hickeys in your collarbone.

After a short time, he pulls out slowly and softly lays your legs against the bed. You sigh at the empty feeling, but are thankful that your legs can stretch out.

"F-Fffuck.. Jeonginnn'' You whine, feeling even more cum drip out of you. He laughs and leans forward to pull you into a kiss, softly smudging his cum along your folds with his fingers before leaving a final, much softer, slap. He leaves soft kisses all over your face as you catch your breath, mumbling an 'I'll be right back' before disappearing into your bathroom. You faintly hear the water running and he quickly returns, wiping you down with a cloth that was soaked with warm water. You finally catch your breath e as he throws the cloth onto the pile of your clothes from earlier, deciding to put them in the hamper later.

You look up at him and give him a sex-drunk smile, giggling as he lays next to you before pulling you into his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest one of your legs on his hip, and he massages it to sooth the muscles as his other hand draws circles into your back. He holds eye contact with you for a moment before pulling you into a kiss.

"You okay baby?" He asks, pulling away to smother your face in kisses as he gives you time to respond.

"Amazing, actually... " You mumble out, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Good... Rest up baby, you're gonna need it." He says between kisses and lands a smack to your ass. He laughs in your face as you look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. He grinds against your core and you realize that he's hard again, making your eyes widen a little.

"Oh, my love.... you thought we were done?"

[bbydoll18xx]

She's Such a Good Girl (Part 4)

Paige makes you feel so good.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Themes: hella smut this is actual filth, little bit of cuteness if you squint

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A/N: hiii sorry this took so long lol I've gotta stop writing multipart fics because i procrastinate too much but i turned down a date so i could write this so I'll be sad if this flops PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP I'M BEGGING

~

The tension was palpable, as you sat next to Paige on her couch. Her eye contact was enough to make you want to shrink away, but you held firm, straightening your spine with a determined force. The smirk on her face sent a shudder through your entire body, and the anticipation of Paige’s hands on you made you wet instantaneously. 

She reaches out to touch you, her fingertips ghosting across the exposed skin of your upper thigh where your shorts had ridden up. The sensitive skin blooms with goosebumps as she does so, and your head spins at the contact. You were getting drunk on it, and the real deal was yet to actually begin.

Paige chuckles as you let out a puff of air, overwhelmed from how her touch affected you, and you blush.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Know you’re probably used to girls who know what they’re doing.” Your insecurities were coming to a head once more, the reality setting in that books could only prepare you for so much. And as you sat before someone as enigmatic and beguiling as Paige, it was the tiniest bit overwhelming.

Only a tiny bit, of course.

Paige shrugs, her eyes bright with excitement. “Don't be sorry, baby. That's why I’m gonna teach you,” she adds with a wink and a huge grin, and the rolling in your stomach subsides. 

Her nonchalance soothes you. She wasn't someone you could hide yourself around, as she beckoned towards your most inner self, pulling it out and appreciating it regardless of anything or anyone. 

You nod, eyes still trained downwards at your hands where you were meticulously playing with them, rubbing them in a way that is not unlike Paige’s infamous “rizz hands.” She tuts at this, taking your hands in hers and then using the other to gently lift your chin to meet her eyes.

“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta use your words,” she says, words husky and dripping with a soft dominance that had your insides purring. 

“Okay,” you whisper, fighting the urge to look away from the heat of her gaze. The blueness of her eyes was hypnotic, and it was easy to get lost in them. 

“That’s my good girl,” she praises, moving her hand from your chin to the side of your neck, holding it in a way that had you holding in a moan, as she stroked the delicate skin with her thumb.

Your heart rate jumps, and Paige can tell, the thumping evident under her thumb, and the pink in your face promptly returns.

“Sounds like someone’s got a praise kink,” she laughs, and you don't bother to even attempt to disagree. Your good girl disposition had stretched beyond just getting good grades and being innocent, and despite your lack of experience, you knew you liked being praised in that way. You preened under any kind of approval; it's just how you were wired.

Paige pulls you into a kiss, and you welcome the distraction. Her lips move against yours, and she sets the perfect tempo. Time slows as your tongues meld together, moans falling from both of your mouths at the sensation. Paige pulls away with one final kiss, lightly biting your swollen bottom lip with finality and dominance that had you swooning.

“Alright,” she begins, still stroking the flesh of your inner thigh. You had moved into her lap during your impromptu makeout session, and she had not protested in the slightest. “Tell me what you wanna try with me.”

You blush again. Having to verbalize to the gorgeous blonde that you did in fact want her to fuck you until you were a withering, moaning mess underneath her was mortifying. Your gaze drops back to your lap before flickering back to Paige’s before she could lightly chastise you. 

You bite your lip, trying to find the right words. “I don't know,” you mumble. “Everything?”

Her eyebrows jump in surprise at your boldness. 

“Everything, huh?” She teases, her fingers dancing closer and closer to your clothed heat. 

“Everything,” you breathe, affirming your statement, trying to avoid squirming in Paige’s lap. The size difference was adding to your arousal, and you feel the wet spot in your undies growing to an embarrassing size. 

“How about we go to my bedroom?” Paige asks, and you immediately agree, wanting to somehow get even closer to the blonde. You go to stand up, but before you can do so, she pulls you in, picking you up and carrying you and dumping you on the plush, purple comforter that was thrown on her bed. 

You scoot back so you're leaning against the pillows, and your legs are slightly spread. Paige stands at the foot of the bed, admiring you with an intense stare that had you squirming deliciously. 

She takes off her shirt and shorts, leaving her in a black sports bra and matching boxers. Her skin was tanned from the summer, and her long, blonde hair was up in a bun. Her abs flashed as she moved towards you, getting on the bed and sitting next to where you were laying. 

Your eyes rake over her figure, subconsciously licking your lips as you take her in. She was so gorgeous, and in this moment, she was all yours. 

“Have you touched yourself before?” She asks, voice husky with want.

Fuck, this was getting real.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Her next two words have you reeling with arousal and the tiniest bit of anxiety. 

“Show me.” 

You slowly shed your clothes until you were laid out bare in front of Paige, and she looks you up and down with a fervent stare. Any thoughts of feeling insecure about your body vanish as you meet her gaze, the adoration radiating off of her. 

Your hands start at your tits, fingers circling both nipples simultaneously. A slight pinch pulls a low whine from your lips, and you drag a hand down your stomach towards the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your touch was gentle, but an annoying voice in your head mocked that it was not comparable to Paige’s. 

She had ruined everyone else for you, including yourself, and that was even before you were able to experience anyone else. You just knew. 

You part your legs, gasping as the cool air hits your drenched pussy, and Paige lets out a similar noise as she sees how wet you are. 

“Doin’ so good for me, baby. Keep going,” she urges, and her praise fuels you.

You dip two fingers into your sopping pussy, swirling the arousal around your clit, eliciting another groan at the large swell of pleasure. The build up of everything makes the process quicker than when you were alone, and Paige’s watchful eye adds to the sheer naughtiness. Your pants are coming out now in staccato breaths, pleasure building in the pit of your belly, and your eyes flutter close. 

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby,” Paige insists, and before you can even think otherwise, you open them once more, looking straight at her. Her dominance is soft, and your desire to gratify her takes over any sense of rational thinking. 

Your hips stutter as the orgasm nears closer, but before you could bathe in the glorious pleasure of your orgasm washing over you, Paige pulls your hand away, and you pout in indignation as the tingling fades.

“You really didn't think you were going to make yourself cum tonight, did you?” She questions, cocking her head to the side with a smirk. “Let me make you feel good now, baby.”

You nod, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, trying to keep your eyes on Paige’s, but the intimacy of the situation makes you want to close them. You scoot back again, laying down further against the pillows. 

Paige takes another moment to look at you, spread out perfectly and innocently before her. You look up at her with doe eyes, and the idea of you being all hers to do whatever she wanted to was nearly intoxicating. 

She places a hand on your inner thigh, and goosebumps erupt at her gentle touch. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for everything you had been fantasizing about since you first laid eyes on UConn’s star basketball player. 

Her hand trails down to your knee, where she then opens your legs, giving her the perfect view of you laid out open just for her. 

It was always going to be just for her.

She leans down and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, nose nearly grazing your sopping pussy, and your stomach lurches dangerously. 

Your breath quickens again. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” she murmurs, as she travels up to your heaving chest, attaching that sinful mouth to a peaked and very sensitive nipple. 

A small moan falls from your lips as you adjust to the new sensation. Pinching your own nipples felt nice, sure, but this was a whole new ballgame. You weren’t sure if this was something you could ever go without again. 

Paige continues worshiping you, alternating between soft kisses, tantalizing licks, and sharp bites until you are a squirming mess underneath her. 

“You like that?” She asks, and you moan incoherently, unable to verbalize just how much you did in fact like it. 

Her kisses travel down your stomach until she has a direct view of your pussy. 

“Been waiting to taste you for so long,” she murmurs, and if it weren’t for the sheer anticipation of her eating you out, you think you would have combusted right there on the spot. 

Her breath fans against you, feeling warm against the slick that had accumulated. One hand strokes your thigh, while the other anchors your other leg, keeping you from closing them together. 

Leaning down, she licks a long line from your weeping hole to your swollen clit, and the line of expletives and moans that follow are like music to Paige’s ears. 

You are so vocal, and that turns her on in a way that should be almost concerning to her. 

Her tongue swirls around your clit over and over again, and the orgasm that she had denied you was quickly building once more. 

And just when you think it could not possibly get any better, Paige utters, “Gonna finger you, too, okay, baby?”

“Fuck, yes please, Paige. Need you,” you whine, eyes nearly shutting at the pleasure. 

“So polite,” she chuckles, and she promptly slides a finger into your tight pussy. 

The feeling was foreign to you, but you welcomed it, bucking against her hand wantonly. 

“Such a good girl,” she praises. “Taking me so well.” 

You moan at her words, the combination of the praise and the pleasure was making your head feel fuzzy, and you were simply relishing in it. You could not believe you had waited so long to allow yourself to feel so damn good. 

Paige adds a second finger, stretching you out with a scissoring motion, before she curls her fingers, causing even more pleasure to shoot through your belly and float all throughout your body. Your g-spot was something you usually avoided during your impromptu masturbation sessions, and the sensations were otherworldly.

Another long whine leaves your lips, and you squirm. “More, Paige, please, need more,” you pant.

She obliges, adding a third finger. She fucks you while continuing her brutal assault on your throbbing clit, and you feel yourself begin to fall over the edge.

“Gonna cum,” you moan, Paige’s name falling from your lips like a prayer, the words and moans mixing together incomprehensibly. 

“Cum for me,” Paige whispers huskily against your pussy, and with a loud string of moans, you fall apart. 

Time nearly stops, and you are washed in pleasure. Paige helps ride you through the orgasm, slowing down once your breathing begins to even out. She pulls her fingers out of you, making a show of licking them while keeping intense eye contact with you.

You shudder, pulling her into a kiss, tasting yourself on her lips, and the horniness comes back instantaneously.

“That was incredible,” you whisper shyly, a soft smile on your face. 

“Told you,” Paige winks, and you laugh, gently swatting at her. 

“So cocky,” you tease. “When’s it my turn?”

She shakes her head. “Dont worry about it. This is about you.”

You pout, bottom lip jutting out. “But I want to learn. And I’ve been dying to taste you, too.”

A faint blush covers her features, and she wags her eyebrows at you. “Been thinkin’ about me, huh?” 

“Shut up, Bueckers,” you whine, rolling her eyes. She was so goddamn cocky. And if she was literally anyone else, you would’ve gotten the ick. But she was Paige, and you could not help but be completely enthralled by her.

She quickly gives into you, and you help her take off the remainder of her clothes. It was your turn to gaze upon her, admiring her long, muscular limbs in all their glory.

Leaning down, you capture her lips in another searing kiss before trailing them down her neck and across her breasts. You could feel her heart racing under the tanned skin, and your ego soars. You were the one having this effect on Paige. No one else. 

“Tell me if you want me to try something else,” you say, before promptly diving into her soaked pussy. Using what she had done to you as a guide, you begin swirling your tongue against her clit in tight circles. You groan against her, the taste and the downright idea of what you were doing sends jolts back down to your own sex. Similarly, Paige was a moaning mess underneath you.

“Doin’ so good, baby. Just like that,” she pants out, writhing on the bed and trying desperately to not trap your head between her strong thighs.

‘Wouldn't be the worst way to go, though,’ you think earnestly. 

Her moans echo through her bedroom, ricocheting off the walls in undeniable proof that you were the one making her feel so good. Wanting to prove yourself even more, you slide two fingers in, curling them up to her g-spot, causing Paige to groan lowly. 

The combination of the finger-fucking and the circling of her clit with your hot, wet tongue was efficacious, and soon she’s cumming with a long string of moans and your name on your lips. For a second, you worry that your roommates across the hall would be able to hear it, but you quickly determine that you really don’t give a fuck. Because you were the one making Paige feel like this, and you were pretty damn proud of it. 

Letting her catch her breath, you pull out of her, sucking your fingers just as she had done, and sit back next to her against the pillows. 

She looks over to you, and with her flushed cheeks and messy hair, you realize how incredibly fucked you are. There was no way you’d be able to go without this, without her, ever again. 

“You get an A+ from me,” she deadpans, and you giggle, hiding your face in her neck.

“When’s the next lesson?” You ask, all sense of shyness wiped from your being. 

“How about tomorrow? I could show you my strap,” she adds casually. 

Your heart jumps. “Fuck yes,” you breathe, already getting excited at the thought. 

“It’s a date,” she winks, pulling you in for another kiss. It was going to be a long night.

And you were okay with that.

~

wellll what do we think??? If you guys want i could do a part 5 but idk i really want to write some strap action lemme know!!

xoxo katy

Part 5

[pedrospatch]

baby, i’m yours

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

main masterlist l fic notifs

Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed. 

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ. 

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

[lokis-army-77]

Make Room

Boyfriend! Steve Harrington x fem reader x College Roommate! Eddie Munson

Word Count: 2.6k

During an intimate moment between you and your boyfriend Steve, his roommate catches you and you decide to let him join.

Warning: 18 +. p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming? voyeurism, pet names, cum swallowing.

Thank you to @munson-blurbs, @lofaewrites, and @munson-mjstan for reading over this.

Masterlist

 "Are you sure we should be doing this? What if your roommate comes back?" Your question is muffled as your boyfriend expertly kisses you.

"We're fine." He grunts, his hands wandering over your body.

He's got you undressed, save for his t-shirt that had been pushed up to reveal you, and pressed into the sheets of his bed. The scent of him plumes around you as you writhe beneath him. His large fingers dig into your hips, bringing your core closer to him.

He's still fully clothed, in no rush to let you have what you've come to so desperately desire.

It started with soft touches under his blanket as you watched Netflix on the laptop propped up at the end of the bed. You tried to ignore the soft tips of his fingers climbing higher up your thigh. You had been startled when Steve's roommate, Eddie, who had been in the room the whole time, had announced he was going to meet some friends in the commons before heading out for dinner. That was five minutes ago.

"Stevie, he could come back any minute." You whined, arching your chest upwards when his fingers dipped through the wetness between your thighs.

"I think you like the thought of that. Of Eddie coming back and catching us." Steve grinned when he felt you shiver.

You couldn't lie, the thought didn’t terrify you as much as it should. Eddie was pretty, devastatingly so, with the grungey rockstar look that made your stomach flutter every time he so much as looked your way.

Steve speaks up again, a laugh filtering through his words. "You like it. I can feel just how wet that made you, baby."

You shy away, turning your gaze from him, embarrassed. He catches your chin with his other hand and urges you to look back at him.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, baby. Eddie’s a good guy, I'm sure he wouldn't mind joining us. I mean... I've thought about him fucking you while I watch more times than I care to say out loud."

More knots twist in your stomach. A moan rips from you from a combination of Steve's admission and his thumb rubbing tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him to be inside you. The emptiness you felt was like a gaping hole that only Steve's cock could perfectly fill.

"Please," you cry out. "Please, I need you."

Steve kept stroking through your swollen lips. "Need me where baby?"

You hated when he made you say it. It made you feel dirty,  but it turned you on so, so much.

"My-my pussy. Need you in my pussy Stevie."

"Yeah?" He hums.

You nod. "Yeah."

Steve takes his hands away from you, shushing you when you cry out at the loss. He quickly strips down, paying no mind to where his clothes go before he crawls on top of you—kissing his way up your body.

"Want you to ride my cock, love. Wanna see you make yourself come apart above me."

"Yes, yes, please. As long as you're inside me."

You scramble to follow his lead. Throwing your leg over his once he lay comfortably propped against his pillow and headboard. His cock was thick and hard, laying stiff against his abdomen.

Reaching your hand out, you grasp him. He's warm and practically throbbing. You tug gently over his velvety skin, pulling a delicious moan from his lips.

Steve beckons you forward with a finger and you hurry up his body. Your cunt rubs over his length, wetting it with your arousal. You both moan when Steve leans up to take your mouth in his.

"Fuck my cock, honey."

With that, you take him up in your hand, letting the tip slide through your wet folds before positioning him at your entrance.

Slowly, you lower yourself. The head of his cock pushes into you and the stretch has your mouth watering.

Steve's hands grip into your flesh and your moans meld together when he bottoms out. He is feeling you completely, you're stretched around him, taking him so deep.

You let your head fall back as you begin to rock your hips. Going slowly at first, feeling the pleasure rising between the two of you. Then your hips speed up a little, as you chace the feeling.

Steve's hand roams up to your breast, playing and teasing a peaked nipple. His other hand rests in the crease at your waist, helping you move.

"Feel so good Stevie, always feel so good." You feel close to tears as you feel his cock hitting the back of your walls.

You're so lost in the moment, distracted by what you're feeling, that you don't notice Steve's growing smirk or the fact that he's no longer looking at you but behind you. The only thing that clues you into the presence of someone else is the contrast of warm fingers and cold rings when they brush your hair away from the back of your neck.

You jump, freezing when you turn to see who was touching you.

Eddie Munson stood at the edge of Steve's bed, eyes wild and throat bobbing.

"Don't stop on my account sweetheart, I was enjoying the show." He smirks.

You move to get off your boyfriend but Steve keeps a firm grasp on your hips, urging you to keep moving. You don't fight it. The shock dissipates when Steve bucks up into you, cock knocking the breath from your lungs.

Eddie keeps his smoldering eyes on yours. His hand stays cupping the back of your neck. You cant your hips, starting to ride Steve again.

Theres something about being watched that has you coming undone faster than ever. Your legs stiffen and your back arches into Eddie's hold. Your mouth falls open in a long moan. 

"Fuck, Harrington- she is pretty when she cums." Eddie chuckles behind you and releases your neck, letting you fall forward on Steve's chest.  

"You should feel her when she does… Fuckin strangles my cock almost."

They were talking about you like you weren’t even there. It made your skin prickle and your stomach erupt in butterflies. 

You could see Eddie’s wide grin from the corner of your eye. "Oh, I’d love to… as long as you’re okay with that Sweetheart?" Eddie looks from Steve to you, all playfulness gone from his tone. 

Opening your mouth to speak, you find it hard to get the words to come out, so you nod. 

Steve tsks, "Use those words, honey."

Sitting up, you nod again. "Yes, I’m okay with that."

Eddie’s grin returns, his face less serious. "Then come here, Sweetheart." His hands trace over your skin, helping you off Steve. 

You let out a whimper as Steve’s cock slips from you, leaving you empty and wanting. Wasting no time you lay on your back, legs spread and heart racing. 

Eddie hums while stepping between your legs. He lets his hands smooth down from your knees, over your inner thighs, to your apex. He lets the backs of his fingers run over the sensitive skin and goosebumps begin to rise. 

You look over to your right, Steve is still in the same position, only he has his hand wrapped around his still-hard cock, pumping it slowly as he watches Eddie’s hands. 

A shiver runs through your body when Eddie’s middle fingers finally slip past your lips, into the sticky wetness and spread you open. He licks his lips as he stares at your center. 

"Such a pretty pussy. All pink and wet, just waiting to be ruined." His fingers massage into your slick skin. 

A short, quivering moan flows past your lips when he just barely glides over your clit. 

"Such sweet sounds too. Fuck- Steve how do you keep your composure when she makes noises like that?"

"It’s not without difficulty," Steve strains. You can hear the subtle, slick sounds of his hand moving over his cock. It has you trying to close your legs for relief, only to be stopped by Eddie’s body in the way.

Your hips roll upwards, searching for more. The emptiness you felt was consuming, and could only be sated by Eddie pushing himself inside you. 

"Eddie-" you whine, "please."

He tilts his head, watching your body write under his teasing fingers. "I'm not the one you should be asking, Harrington's in charge, Sweetheart."

You cut your eyes to Steve, questioning. He just raises an eyebrow.

Letting out a huff, you ask, "Steve, please. Please let him fuck me, wanna feel him."

Steve nods, "You heard her, Munson. She wants you to fuck her."

Your body is practically thrumming with anticipation. Eddie’s thumb circles over your clit one last time before pulling away. You try to sit up, reaching for his belt, wanting to help take his clothes off quicker. 

He stops you with a firm hand, pushing you back down. "Be patient, Sweetheart, you’ll have what you want in a second."

With hungry eyes, you watch his every movement. Your mouth waters when a trail of coarse hair is revealed, trailing down past the waist of his jeans and blue boxers. Your heart beats as he pulls the fabric lower, his almost fully hard cock is pulled from its place. He’s not as long as Steve but what he lacks in inches he makes up for in girth.

For a moment your eyes widen in surprise. How in the world is he going to fit? You ask yourself. You’ve never taken anything that thick before. 

Eddie, noticing the slight shake in your breathing, pets your leg and mumbles a soft, "You’re alright."

Then he gently takes himself in his other hand and taps the head against the swollen and sensitive lips of your cunt. You squirm at the teasing feeling.

The stiff dorm room mattress jostles you as Steve moves from lying down to o. His knees. His large hands roam over your Body, petting you almost. His fingers drag over the sliver of stomach showing from under your t-shirt. 

"Arms up honey." He tells you, and you listen, throwing your arms above your head. Steve then tugged the shirt off you, leaving you bare with two sets of hungry, lust-filled Eyes watching you. 

It's easier for them to see the hitch in your breath now. Easier for them to see how they are both affecting your body.  

Steve leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers in your ear: "Beautiful," and your body shivers in anticipation. His lips trail down your throat, leaving a trail of what felt like molten lava in their wake.

Eddie, on the other hand, now guides himself into you. The stretch makes you burn, a different heat from Steve's n   kisses but just as pleasurable. 

Your body buzzes with the feeling of both of them touching you. Each of their large hands sends sparks through you, giving you goosebumps. 

"God, so fuckin’ tight. 

You reach out to him, fingers pushing on his abdomen, keeping him from pushing all the way in.

"Slow. Go slow." You moan. Eddie’s thickness made you feel like you were being split apart, even though you had been thoroughly worked out. 

He listens, pushing into you at a snail's pace until he bottoms out.  He groans and you gasp, feeling completely and utterly full. Eddie starts to roll his hips into you little by little. 

Your vision has gone hazy, everything is unfocused as the pain turns into pleasure. 

"Doin’ such a good job, baby." You hear Steve's praise from beside you. His hand still roams your body, teasing all the places he knows you are most sensitive. 

"Need more…" You tell both of them.  Eddie responds by increasing the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. Steve's fingers dip lower and lower until they begin to rub into your swollen clit, his other hand tilting your head sideways. 

"Open your mouth, Honey." 

You oblige. Opening without question and humming in content when Steve's cock is placed on your tongue. He holds himself still, just letting you warm him as he uses his free hand to pump the length of him not in your mouth. 

You let free a long sigh, finally satisfied with how both men were touching you, filling up your holes. 

Eddie continues to pump deep inside you. Between his forceful thrusts and Steve’s lithe fingers, you’re on the brink. A layer of sweat has coated your body and your stomach feels like it’s in knots. Your hips are trying to move with the rhythm of their fucking you but Eddie’s hands hold you firm to the mattress. 

Moan after wanton moan leaves your stuffed mouth as you inch closer and closer to the edge. Your body begins to shake and your fingers and toes curl in on themselves as the amount of pleasure you are feeling. 

"That’s it, Sweetheart, take it. Take it like the good girl you are," Eddei hudds out between thrusts. 

"Gonna let go for us? Hum?" Steve asks.

You nod your head slightly, giving the head of his cock a firm suck, sending him into a whimpering mess. 

"Fuck." He seethes. "Not gonna last much longer."

"Me either." The other man says as his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm. 

Finally, the string inside you that’s been tugged on over and over has been pulled taut. Your back arches off the bed and a muffled scream of ecstasy flows from you as the string eventually snaps. 

"God damnit," Eddie moans, "She’s squizin’ me so fuckin’ tight. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, where do cum?"

Steve pulls out of your mouth before he speaks. "Ya hear that, Honey? Where do you want him to cum? Tell him."

You turn to look Eddie in the eyes and say, "Inside. Want you to fill me up."

Eddie grunts in what you imagine is a ‘thank you’ before he is finally spilling his load into your needy cunt. 

Steve removes his hand from your clit and brings it to his cock. "Keep your mouth open, baby, tongue out. He starts to tug himself faster and faster before he lets the spurts of cum fall into your waiting mouth. Greedily you swallow it all.

You three stay like that for a moment, fucked out and touching in any way you can. You can’t help the long whimpering whine you make when Eddie finally pulls out of you and Steve climbs off the bed. 

"I know, love, I know," Steve whispers before kissing you. "I’ll get you nice and cleaned up." He moves to the small bathroom in the corner and begins wetting a washcloth. Eddie follows behind him, filling up a cup with water and grabbing a bag of Doritos from the snack stash in one of his desk drawers.  

They both take care of you in tandem and you love every second of it. So much so that after everything, your eyes begin to droop and a big yawn escapes you. 

Steve takes his place behind you, pulling you into his warm body. "I think it’s time for a nap."

You hum in agreement. 

Eddie is quiet, then he clears his throat. "I guess I should leave you both to it. I’ll see you in a few hours, Harrington."

"Eddie, wait." Your words stop him before he can begin putting his clothes back on. 

"Yeah, Sweetheart?"

"Stay."

He looks from your half-lidded eyes to Steves, waiting for the ‘okay’. He’s almost giddy when Steve pulls the covers back, creating a space for him. 

He scrambles into the space, wrapping himself around you, and buries his face into your neck. You and Steve chuckle at him before the three of you finally relax into one another, settling down for a well-deserved sleep.

[huhmiya]

INNOCENT GIRL | matt sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt x f!reader

summary: you have always been an innocent girl to everyone, but matt has noticed your attitude and actions, which led him to punishing you.

warning: smut, dom!matt, swearing, p in v, pet names (slut, baby, love, darling, bad girl, bitch), unprotected sex, hair pulling, use of y/n, crying, nipple playing, dirty talking, blow job, rough sex, bratty y/n.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. agh, a bit rushed and late to say but I’m so happy that the sturniolo triplets are at 7M

WORDS: 2.6k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | matt - blue

-

Matt adored you deeply and always made sure you felt that. He appreciated your gentle nature and how much of a kind hearted person you were.

He was always tender with you, knowing you were sensitive to touch, making sure to handle you with care.

Though there were times when he let his anger get the best of him and was harsh with you, he always regretted it and made amends by doing whatever you wished since he made you feel horrible about yourself.

Recently, he noticed you becoming more distant and acting rudely towards others. He reached a breaking point and decided to give you space.

Leaving you alone in his room, he went to record a YouTube video with his brothers in the kitchen, hoping that some time by yourself would help you return to your usual self.

While you scrolled through your phone, you could faintly hear Matt and his brothers laughing, sparking your curiosity. However, you chose to block out the noise by putting on headphones, not wanting to engage with anyone at that moment for reasons unknown.

You were listening to your shuffle mix but it seemed like it passed quickly due to Matt entered the room which meant he finished recording. You didn't even bother to say hi, but he knew you noticed him.

He huffed and left you to it, grabbing his sweatpants to change. He didn't mind if you were looking or not, as you had seen him like this before.

You didn't dare glance at him, and Matt had a feeling you wouldn't. He stayed silent after changing, then left the room for the bathroom, probably to brush his teeth and take care of business as it was already 11 pm.

"Hey y/n, my brothers and I are going to watch a movie in the lounge... would you like to join?" he asked from the door frame, still brushing his teeth.

You continued scrolling on your phone but gave a thumbs down in response. He rolled his eyes, noticing you were still being dismissive.

After a minute or two of brushing his teeth, he finished and frowned at you, but you hadn't seen his reaction.

“Alright, I'm leaving you here," he wanted to stay with you because he cared about you, but he couldn't handle your attitude and guessed you didn't want to see him.

He decided to leave you be, closing the door behind him. As you took off your headphones, you could faintly hear his footsteps moving away.

You were aware that you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. Feeling tired and unable to sleep, you found yourself giving everyone the same negative energy.

Before long, Matt returned unexpectedly. You met his gaze with surprise, but remained silent.

"Nick mentioned you might be on, so I brought some chocolate from the cupboard," he said, placing the chocolate next to you and handing you a hot water bottle.

Although you were confused because you weren't expecting him and you weren’t on your period, you appreciated the gesture. You smiled faintly, but remained silent.

"You know what? I want you to say thank you. I'm not going to treat you like a princess when you're behaving like a brat," he snapped, clearly upset by your actions.

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his intense blue eyes as he stood with his arms crossed firmly.

"Well then, thank you," you finally spoke, your voice tinged with sarcasm from lack of use.

He wasn't convinced by your words and struggled to remain calm. "Y/n, baby, if you give me that fucking attitude again, I won't hesitate to make you regret it."

You laughed, aware of your bratty behavior but unconcerned, which only seemed to infuriate Matt more. He watched as you put your headphones back on.

Suddenly, he slammed his bedroom door shut, startling you into thinking he had left. Instead, he approached you, swiftly removing your headphones and snatching your phone before tossing it away, careful not to damage it though.

"Matt, what-" you started to speak, but he hushed you, clearly angry. You weren't going to listen and were about to speak, which led him to harshly pull your hair to get your attention.

"Shut up. What you're going to do is suck my fucking cock until I tell you to stop. I don't care if your throat gets bruised, I'll appreciate the silence," he said in a forceful tone, making sure his brothers wouldn't hear. He tugged your hair before stepping back to expose himself by lowering his sweatpants.

Without saying a word, he intended for you to perform the act, but he sought permission through his eyes. If you truly didn't want to, he would stop. He understood that you were more reserved, so this forceful approach likely left you feeling vulnerable and speechless.

After locking eyes with you, he received a nod, confirming your consent. Without hesitation, he stroked himself to get harder than he guided himself into your mouth as you sat up slightly.

“Want me to stop, then say so." He didn't appreciate your behavior and wouldn't have spoken like this, but he had too since he felt a bit concerned because you weren't accustomed to roughness.

He proceeded to guide you to perform oral sex on him, occasionally causing you to gag.

"If you hadn't been acting like a bitch today, I would have given you whatever you desired. But you had to be a bad girl, didn't you?" he remarked, with a moan escaping him as he felt the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, making him bite his lip to stifle his own sounds of pleasure, mindful of his brothers in the house.

He encouraged you to increase the pace without hesitation, locking eyes with you as he twitched with pleasure, particularly around his erect member.

Sensing his impending climax, you intensified your efforts. You were surprised by how quickly he was reaching the peak, realizing that at this moment, he wasn't as gentle in bed as he had portrayed himself to be.

"If I wanted to, I could bruise your throat, but since I'm feeling generous, I won't. But damn, I really want to," Matt says in a low voice. He makes you take it all which made your eyes watering by the gag you did.

Your nose brushing against his skin as you comply, but soon he ejaculates without warning which makes tears roll down your cheek but not on purpose.

He makes you swallow it, unconcerned about his semen dripping down your chin. He bites his lip, trying not to moan too loudly because of his brothers.

Releasing your hair, he allows you to pull away after you've swallowed, your eyes meeting his. "Matt," you whisper, but he just smirks, wipes the cum off your chin, and makes you suck his thumb.

"You did a good job, darling," he winks before standing up, grabbing a tissue to clean himself before getting dressed.

Your eyes follow his movements as you feel wet, and you know he's aware of it. He chuckles as he heads towards the door.

"I don't reward naughty girls. Maybe if you change your attitude, you might get lucky," he says before closing the door behind him as he goes to join his brothers with the film.

"Matt?!" You called out, speaking quietly instead of shouting, hoping he would hear you. However, he ignored you and sat down with his brothers. You groaned softly and stayed silent.

You decided not to approach him since he was with his brothers. Instead, you lay on his bed, feeling a need for him but trying to ignore it.

You were aware that touching yourself would only intensify your desire for him, as your fingers were not like his. So, you simply chewed on your lips while returning to your phone.

You were still turned on, your lips in a slight pout after biting your lips. You could still feel how wide he was around your lips just moments ago.

You had texted him, but it was evident he was ignoring you. You glanced at your text before getting comfortable on his bed.

You let out a slight groan before sending Matt a few more texts, noticing that he was reading them now but not replying.

Hoping for a message from him, you were interrupted by the sound of the door closing as Matt entered.

"Can't you see I'm watching a movie with my brothers? Do you always have to bother me?" he said with a smile, briefly showing his tongue between his teeth.

You looked at Matt. "But Matt, I'm sorry... I apologize for my behavior," you said, prompting him to laugh at your words as he leaned against his bedroom door for a moment.

"You apologising because you feel it, or because I won't fuck you like I usually do?" he says bluntly, meeting your gaze.

Noticing your silence and the expression in your eyes, he rolls his eyes. "Looking at me like that won't make me feel guilty," even though he finds himself looking at you with desire.

You continue to keep your eyes on him, and he sighs before locking the door and sitting down next to you. "You’ve got on my nerves today, and now you're staring at me like a slut. Screw you," he whispers with a slight smile.

"I mean I am a slut for you," you tilt your head slightly, causing him to adjust his position as he feels his sweatpants getting tighter because of you.

"Don't, y/n," he warns, eyeing you up before closing his eyes briefly and then focusing on your face.

You chuckle softly before running your hand over his chest, slowly moving closer to him as you start to kiss his neck, prompting him to move his head to make it easier for you.

You playfully nibbled on his neck, your hands moving towards his shirt while you create hickeys that he loved, but always got angry about it when he had to film a YouTube video with his brothers, as his fans would find out.

You paused, leaving hickeys which will show later and removed his shirt. Though he tried to stay mad at you for your behavior earlier in the day but your current actions were making him forget all about it.

"Are you really doing this while my brothers are in the other room?" he muttered, knowing that you riding him would make it impossible for him to stay quiet.

"You weren't complaining when I was giving you a blowjob," you teased, kissing his lips to prevent him from responding.

He kissed you back and touched your chest, even though you were wearing a shirt. You focused on his pleasure, ignoring his touch.

He knew you were usually gentle in bed, but the way you kissed him made him want to have his dick in you right then and there. He realized that you were going to be rough for once but he wasn’t gonna allow you to fuck him when he can’t punish you.

You quickly pull away to remove your shirt while Matt deftly unclasps your bra with one hand, a move he has mastered through repeated practice with you.

"Impatient?" you tease, but he silences you with a hush. "I suggest you keep quiet, you're the one in the wrong," he retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"If you try to boss me around, I might just leave you like this," you retort, playfully tapping his nose before removing his sweatpants, revealing his nakedness. You are surprised to find he isn't wearing any boxers.

As you gaze at his throbbing manhood, a smirk plays on your lips. Despite his hips twitching in anticipation, you press him down with your weight.

He grows impatient, enjoying your dominance but craving to be intimate with you. Catching your gaze, he swiftly pins you down and takes charge before you can react.

"Another time, darling," he whispers with a wink, planting a kiss on your neck and fondling your breasts. He then begins to tease your nipples as he harshly bites your neck and licks it.

He pressed his hand over your mouth, stifling your moans. "Hey, stay silent, got it?" he whispered sharply.

You nodded in agreement as he released your mouth. He ceased nibbling on your neck and instead traced his tongue down to your stomach.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as you brushed his hair away from his eyes. He planted a kiss on your stomach before pulling back.

Meeting your gaze, he proceeded to remove your shorts and underwear simultaneously. His smirk grew as he observed your reaction before kissing the top of your intimate area and withdrawing.

"I'm not going to make it easy for you. I want your apology to be sincere," he declared, firmly grasping your chin to establish eye contact. Your heart raced.

"I'm sorry, I truly am," you whispered, causing him to briefly glance down at his arousal before returning his focus to you. "Say it again," he demanded.

Before you could comply, he forcefully entered you, prompting a loud moan and an arch of your back, followed swiftly by his hand covering your mouth.

He knew you wouldn't stay silent, so he quickly grabbed his shirt and stuffed it in your mouth. Your eyes widened as he spoke. "You need to stay quiet."

Without any warning, he deeply thrust inside you, causing you to moan, though it was muffled.

Although you weren't used to his roughness, you found yourself starting to enjoy it. You whimpered and grabbed his back, scratching it in response.

He groaned, tightly closing his eyes before easing up slightly. His thrusts became faster until he reached his limit of speed.

He continued grunting, keeping it quiet as he was skilled at being dominant. He held your legs to widen them further.

He felt you tighten around him, biting his lip to stifle a loud moan. His hands gravitated to your breasts once more, his thumb stimulating your nipples more intensely.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the desire evident in your eyes signaling your impending climax. He intensified his thrusts, pushing a few more times before you reached the peak of pleasure.

Your loud moans were muffled by his shirt as he felt you envelop his manhood, prompting him to grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he continued thrusting until he reached his own climax.

Moaning with his eyes rolling back, both bodies glistened with sweat. He quickly pulled away, watching as his essence leaked out of you.

He gazed at your womanhood as you both caught your breath. Eventually, he turned to you. "Have you learned your lesson?" he inquired, to which you nodded.

He lay down beside you, picking up his phone to text his brothers that he wouldn't be joining them for the movie until he had cleaned both of you up.

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Seventeen}

{<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Daemon Targaryen x F!Reader} Request {Anon}: Daemon and a super innocent reader with 13, 7, 8, 19 & a small bit of 22????

♡♡♡ Anon you understand me so well... ♡♡♡

2.6k words - Kinks: squirting, breeding kink, size kink, daemon being possessive, mild mild dubcon, virgin!reader & inexperience...

Your eyes were drawn to the darkening sky outside your window as you finished getting ready for bed, the first few stars beginning to appear on the horizon. You could see the distant outline of the Great Sept of Baelor, lit up against the dark city, where your wedding ceremony was set to take place the following day.

Usually the sight of such a place would put you at ease, but you were too nervous about the events of the following day. A day you never thought would come, but now it had and you were scared.

You were to marry Daemon Targaryen. A man you only knew by reputation, one that left you feeling unsettled every time his name was mentioned. You heard tales of how he enjoyed bedding virgins and whores alike, how he was ruthless and dangerous and a Targaryen in blood and spirit.

You considered yourself to be pious, you prayed often and did everything your father told you to do. It was improper to speak of such things, and you had dutifully avoided any conversation about what happens in the marital bed. But now, you regretted your ignorance, the unknown act of sex was all the more terrifying to you now.

"My lady."

The voice had you jumping and spinning around in surprise. Your betrothed stood near the entrance to your balcony, wearing a dark cloak, the hood covering his silver hair.

"Prince Daemon," you said, bowing slightly. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckled at your formality, the way his eyes ran down your body making you feel more exposed than the thin nightdress you were wearing.

"My apologies, my prince," you quickly grabbed a robe and wrapped it around yourself, "I did not expect any visitors,"

His silence made your nerves rise, especially when his gaze lingered on your covered form for a long time before his eyes met yours again.

A slow smile spread across his lips and he looked away from you, out into the night, his expression becoming blank as he stared at the Great Sept.

"Is there something you wanted, my prince?"

"Daemon," he corrected you without looking away from the window.

You felt your cheeks warm, embarrassed at your mistake. An awkward silence filled the room, and you wondered what it was that he was expecting from you.

He glanced back at you, and then pulled off his cloak and threw it over a chair. The dark tunic he was wearing stretched over his chest and you looked away before he noticed you staring.

"Get on the bed for me," he said softly, the sudden command catching you off guard.

You glanced up in surprise, finding his eyes watching you with an intensity that made your stomach twist. He wanted you to get on the bed? Why? You had been taught that no one was allowed to touch you, especially not until you were married.

"I... That's quite improper, pri- Daemon," you said quickly, your voice barely a whisper.

He stepped closer, towering over you in a way that should have been intimidating, but instead it sent a rush of heat through you. You swallowed nervously as he reached a hand out, brushing his thumb across your cheek and down your neck.

"I will be your husband tomorrow," his words were gentle, but the firm grip of his hand around the side of your neck kept you in place, his eyes searching your face, "I want to see what I'm marrying,"

Your heart pounded as his thumb stroked over the delicate skin of your neck. You felt vulnerable, exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. You thought you had one more night before this happened, and you weren't prepared to give yourself over so easily.

"If we wait until tomorrow, I-"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. His hands came up to hold your face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tried to pull away, but he held you in place, and a soft moan escaped you.

When he finally broke the kiss, your cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark, a smug smile on his face as he watched you.

"Get on the bed, sweet girl,"

You swallowed nervously, and stepped backwards towards the bed, his eyes tracking your movements. He moved slowly, like a predator, and your breath caught in your throat when the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

"Take off your robe,"

You did as he commanded, removing the garment and setting it aside. You were suddenly very aware of your near nakedness, your skin heating under his hungry stare.

He smiled, tugging at the ties on his tunic, pulling it off to reveal his bare chest and abdomen. You couldn't stop the way your eyes trailed over his toned body, his broad shoulders and chest covered in scars.

"Like what you see, little dove?"

You snapped your eyes back up, finding him smiling knowingly. You turned your face away from him, trying to ignore the flush spreading across your face and chest.

He stepped closer, and you could feel the heat of his body against your skin. He gently pushed you onto the bed and climbed over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he settled between your legs.

"Now," his fingers brushed down the front of your nightdress, sending goosebumps over your skin, "let's see what we have to work with,"

His hands pushed up the skirt of your nightdress, exposing the smooth skin of your legs. His calloused hands caressed your thighs, his strong body holding you down.

You let out a shaky breath when his fingers grazed the damp fabric of your smallclothes. He rubbed a finger over your clothed cunt, a smirk on his lips as he watched the effect his touch had on you.

"Is that all for me?"

You whimpered when he pushed aside the cloth and slid a finger along your slit, his touch gentle but firm. He teased you with soft strokes, his thumb barely touching the sensitive nub at the top. You squirmed in his grip, your body reacting to his touch even though your mind was telling you it was wrong.

"Don't look so frightened, this is what we're meant to do," he whispered.

He lowered his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, then he pulled down your small clothes and tossed them aside. You squeezed your eyes shut when his breath fanned across the most intimate part of you.

"Oh," his voice was low, sending a shiver down your spine, "look at that pretty cunt,"

You bit your lip, embarrassed by the way he was looking at you, the hunger in his eyes making your heart race. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, entranced by the way his hands touched you.

He leaned in and kissed the apex of your thighs, his stubble tickling your skin as his tongue flicked over the swollen bud. You gasped, the sensation strange but not unpleasant. He licked and sucked at the sensitive little bundle, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he held them apart.

The heat building inside you was growing, a warm tension coiling in your lower belly. Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer, his tongue sliding over your cunt, his lips sucking and kissing the soft skin.

You were panting, a soft cry escaping your lips when his tongue slipped inside you, pushing deeper into the wet heat.

He pulled away, his mouth wet with your arousal, and his eyes dark. "Quiet, little dove, or else someone will hear us."

You clamped your mouth shut, trying to muffle the noises escaping your lips. But as soon as his mouth returned to your cunt, your hands tangled in his silver strands, tugging. He chuckled against you, the vibrations making you moan and writhe. His mouth was skilled, and the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

"Daemon," you gasped, his name falling from your lips before you could stop it.

His hand reached up, covering your mouth, silencing you as his tongue moved faster. Your back arched off the bed, muffled cries escaping as you neared the edge. His fingers gripped your thighs, holding you still as he devoured you. The wet sounds filling the room drowned out every thought. You could barely breathe, your entire world narrowing down to the intense pleasure he was giving you.

And then, the tension snapped, and you were falling, waves of pleasure crashing over you, making you cry out into his hand. He didn’t stop, his tongue and mouth relentless, prolonging the sensation until you were squirming, trying to escape the overwhelming intensity.

When he finally pulled back, his lips glistening with your release, a wicked smile spread across his face. He watched you, panting and flushed, eyes wide with lust and wonder.

"Did you enjoy that, little dove?" His voice was low, teasing.

"Y-yes," you managed to breathe out, still lost in the haze of pleasure.

He kissed his way back up your body, leaving soft bites and licks on your exposed skin. He took his time, savoring every inch of you, his eyes darkening with each kiss. By the time he reached your face, you were breathing hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He kissed you, his lips soft but possessive, his hands resting on the bed beside your head.

"That was a nice warm-up."

You nodded, mind still fuzzy from the aftershocks. Tentatively, you reached up, your fingers tracing the muscles and scars on his chest. Each touch felt reverent, as if you were memorizing him.

His voice roughened, sending a thrill through you. "Now, I want to watch your pretty face while I fuck you."

"Daemon, I-"

He silenced you with another kiss, his tongue claiming yours before pulling back just enough to unlace his trousers. Your breath hitched as he freed his cock. You had never seen a man's cock before, and the sight was both intimidating and alluring. His smirk deepened at the look on your face, his hand stroking himself slowly, teasingly.

"Will it fit?" you asked, a nervous tremble in your voice.

He chuckled, brushing his lips against yours. "Of course it will, little dove. It’s meant to."

You took a deep breath, trying to relax, though the sight of him had your heart racing. His hand trailed over your thigh, soothing you even as his cock pressed against your entrance.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, filled with desire, hunger, and something darker. Something that made your stomach flip. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip before he slowly pushed inside.

You gasped, the stretch making you wince. He stilled, his eyes searching yours, giving you time to adjust.

"How does it feel, little dove?"

"Good," you whispered, the initial sting fading into a strange, aching fullness.

He grinned, kissing you deeply as his hips began to move, slow and deliberate. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, overwhelmed by the blend of pain and pleasure. He kept his movements measured, allowing you to get used to the feeling, his restraint evident in the tension of his muscles.

Soon, the pain faded completely, replaced by a growing need. You gasped, rolling your hips, urging him to go deeper. The sensation was too much, too good, and you needed more. 

"Fuck," he groaned, his control slipping as he leaned back to watch you move beneath him, his hand gripping your hip tightly.

You felt a surge of power at the way he watched you, the way his cock throbbed inside you. His expression was pure lust, eyes devouring every part of you. You reached out, wanting to feel his skin against yours, and he pulled you into his arms, pressing your bodies together. His lips claimed yours once more, his kisses rough, needy.

"You'll make a good wife for me," he muttered between kisses. "Soon, you'll be full and round with my child, and everyone will know you’re mine."

His words sent a shiver through you, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in your chest. The thought of being his, of bearing his children, was overwhelming, but the need in his voice, his possessiveness, stirred something deep within you.

You clung to him, feeling his cock buried deep inside, the heat of his body, the smell of him, everything consuming you.

He pulled back slightly, his hand gripping the back of your neck, his eyes burning into yours. "Would you like that, little dove? To carry my child?"

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak. His smile was dark, possessive, and it sent a thrill through you. He kissed you roughly, as if sealing a promise, his pace quickening. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies, the wet slap of his cock thrusting into you, his breath hot on your skin.

Your cries were muffled by his mouth as the pleasure built, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge. The pressure inside you was unbearable, too much to hold back. And when you finally came, a rush of wetness spilled from you, your body shaking with the force of it.

"Did you make a mess, sweet girl?" he teased, his voice rough with satisfaction. You buried your face in his shoulder, mortified, but the heat between you only flared higher.

Daemon chuckled darkly, pressing you down onto the bed, his grip on your hips tightening. "Let’s see if we can make it happen again," he whispered, the dark promise in his voice sending another wave of heat through you.

His thrusts were relentless now, each one harder than the last, driving you to the brink again and again. The sheets beneath you were soaked, the evidence of your pleasure mingling with the slick sounds of his cock moving inside you. Every time you felt yourself nearing the edge, he would shift, slowing just enough to keep you teetering, teasing, drawing it out.

When you came again, it was with a muffled cry, your back arching off the bed, the pleasure even stronger this time. More wetness spilled from your cunt, soaking the sheets further.

He groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his cock twitching as he spilled his seed deep inside you. The warmth of it made you shudder, a strange sense of completeness settling over you.

He collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy, his body covering yours. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, the only sound in the room was the beating of your hearts.

"That was amazing," he murmured, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your neck. "You’re perfect."

You closed your eyes, savoring the weight of his body on yours, the warmth of his skin, the lingering pulse of pleasure in your veins. It felt almost dreamlike, the way he held you, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. But when he eventually pulled away, standing to dress, the intimacy shifted. You sat up, suddenly feeling exposed, awkward now that the intensity had passed.

"Tonight will be the last time we sleep apart," he said, his tone soft but filled with certainty. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

The thought of being his wife was overwhelming, but exciting. You were going to have a family, a life with him, and in that moment, it didn’t seem like such a terrifying prospect.

He gave you one last lingering kiss before walking out. As the door clicked shut, you collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted. Your mind drifted, filled with thoughts of the future. Being married to Daemon didn’t seem so bad, especially if nights like this were waiting for you.

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[potatoplace]

the 1

Elriel, Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Alternate Endings: Gone | betty | The Prophecy

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: All you had ever wanted to be was plain. And now, as a plain-faced High Fae, you want more. You want your mate.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, self-loathing, suicide

Words: ~2.6k

Author's Note: I'm sorry. (I told you guys I've been having a rough week...) Apparently my brain is saying 'fuck Kinktober!' Even tho like. I WANT to write those... smut just doesn't feel in the cards for me today 😩 so have some tasty tasty angst instead. (I'm also watching an Eras Tour live so I'm hella cheered up now lol)

18+ only pls

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

Self loathing grew in your gut as you watched your family around you.

All of them were happy, reveling in the togetherness that they shared.

And your mate- your mate- was ignoring you. He was speaking to one of your sisters, absolutely enamored with her. And you couldn’t blame him.

Elain had always been the pretty one of the four of you, a shining diamond even in the filth of poverty.

Nesta was the one with regal beauty, her sharp eyes and the way she carried herself not letting anyone think otherwise.

Your twin, Feyre, was stunning, even if she herself had never seen it, the cleverness in her eyes and quiet grace drawing people’s gaze to her.

And then there was you.

You were… the ugly one. Your mother had said so, even though you were only a child when she passed. Your father had quietly agreed with her. Nesta had mocked your looks when she had had a bad day, which was nearly every day while you had been living in the run down hut after your family lost their fortune. Elain said nothing, but shot pitying looks at you when no suitor asked for a dance while you had still been human, even when it had been a ball thrown in your honor for your birthday. Feyre has been the kindest to you, reminding you that it’s what on the inside that counts…

But that didn’t appear to be so.

Even with a mating bond that you knew should draw Azriel’s attention, his eyes were still glued to Elain. He seemed to be able to breathe only when in her presence, taking in the same air as her.

And in your presence? He couldn’t seem to get away fast enough.

Being dumped into the Cauldron had made both of your sisters even prettier, and Feyre was no exception either after being turned High Fae.

For you, it had made you plain. No longer ugly, unless you counted the still crooked teeth and too small nose and thin mouth.

Just plain.

As a human, you had begged to whatever higher power there was that you could just be plain.

But now that you were, you knew it would never be enough.

Because while Feyre was right, your personality mattered more in a long term relationship than your looks, being pretty drew people in.

Being plain only made you fade into the background.

Azriel laughed at something Elain had said, the sound sending warmth through your body.

It should be you making him laugh, not Elain.

Elain, with her beauty and poise and perfect personality and her ridiculously handsome mate who wanted nothing but her time.

Elain, who seemed to want no one and no thing but your mate.

Your Azriel.

You tore your gaze away from the couple, who you already knew were in a relationship. Elain had confessed it to you a month ago, gushing about how their fifth date had gone and how she thought he was the one. She had told you first, knowing that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

After all, who would you tell?

It’s not like you had any friends in Velaris- or in the human lands, for that matter- and your other two sisters were so preoccupied with their mates and growing personal circles that they hardly had the time to look at you, let alone talk to you.

No. You were alone. You were a lockbox for all of her secrets.

Including that she was planning to officially reject the mating bond once Azriel offered a proposal of marriage.

That had made you sick to your stomach, but you had hidden it deep, deep down in your heart as you congratulated her and faked happiness, asking her when she thought he would propose.

“Any day now, I suspect. Azriel told me that he was planning for the future, and wanted to know if I would like to be a part of it,” she had sighed dreamily. “We just need to tell the family, I know that… Rhys was worried about what us being together would mean for court relations. But he’s just being dramatic, don’t you think?” Her chocolate eyes landed on you, so filled with hope that you couldn’t tell her that he was your mate.

“Yes, he’s just worried, ‘Lain. I’m sure everything will be fine,” you managed to say, and relatively normal at that.

That was last night, and while your eyes had drifted to the carpeting, they shot back upwards at the sound of clinking metal on glass.

Your mate, standing with a flute of sparkling wine in his hand and a knife in his other, had his arm locked with Elain’s.

He cleared his throat once he had everyone’s attention, his eyes passing over everyone-

But you. His eyes skipped over you, even now, with the bond flaring in your chest.

“Elain and I have something to announce, though Rhys already knows what it is.” You heard a hand slap against an arm, Rhys’s faked moan of pain, and Nesta scolding her mate. Azriel smiled at their antics, such a rarity on his face that your heart skipped several beats, leaving you lightheaded.

It most certainly wasn’t because of what they were announcing.

“Elain and I have been dating for the past two months, and we would like to make it official with you all now. In fact, the two of us will be moving into a cottage in town later in the month, and we would like to invite you all to join us for a housewarming party in two weeks.”

The inner circle broke into cheers around you, Cassian immediately encasing his brother in his arms and clapping him on the back.

“Congratulations, brother! I know you’ve waited a long time to find love.”

You remained seated where you were, offering a smile to the happy couple but staying put.

If you stood, you were sure to faint. Or be sick. Or both.

Nesta was the only other person who remained where they were, a skeptical look on her face.

“I hate to be the person to bring the party down…” She started, her voice weary. “But what of your mates? Haven’t you wanted one for your whole life, Azriel? What will happen when you find her?”

“If I find her, I will reject the bond, Nesta. My love for Elain eclipses that of what I thought possible, even with a mating bond. Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister,” Azriel answered, which seemed to be enough to have Nesta’s approval, as she stood and made her way to the couple.

“Then I’m happy for the both of you. But if you ever hurt my sister, you will deal with me,” Nesta warned, ice in her tone.

You didn’t stick around to hear what came next.

Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister.

And of course, he was right. How could you compare to Elain?

She was beautiful, yes, but she was also a perfect match for Azriel. Kind and caring, always ready to help people, not to mention she would be a wonderful mother.

And then there was you. Plain. Boring. Nothing special.

Even the Cauldron hadn’t thought anything of you, leaving you with a High Fae body but no magic to speak of.

You couldn’t even fathom why you had been made Azriel’s mate when Elain was such a wonderful pairing to him, and had the magical abilities to match.

You stumbled your way to the town house, where you had taken up residence once Feyre and Rhys had finished the river house. Once inside you quickly made it to your room and shucked off your clothes after locking the door.

Bare, you stood before the mirror and assessed yourself. It was a habit you had picked up once your family had regained their fortune after Feyre had been stolen away.

One that brought you no comfort, but you needed to do.

Your physique was fine, you had filled out in the past year of being fae.

But there was nothing… special about you. You were medium height. Your chest was a bit smaller than average. Your legs were on the shorter side, making your torso look too long.

And your legs… they were covered in small white scars.

Another habit that you had picked up, this time after turning fae.

And tonight would be no different.

You suppose the one saving grace of being turned fae was your quick healing, letting you destroy your body without anyone knowing.

And no one ever would, seeing as your mate was on his way to being married to your sister.

A sigh left your lips as you turned to your bed, fishing the small blade you kept underneath out from below the mattress.

Tonight would be no different.

Except now you knew that even if you confessed your bond to Azriel, your heart would be torn to shreds no matter what.

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

It was two months later, during Starfall, that your world crumbled further.

You had donned a plain dress in a midnight blue, with long flowing sleeves and reaching your feet. You had opted for flats, seeing as no one would pay you enough attention to notice if you were in heels or not.

No, no one would notice you at all.

Because Azriel had a ring in his pocket.

One that you had given him advice on, to choose something Elain would love.

A glutton for punishment, that’s what you were as you gazed at the beautiful couple, clad in matching blue outfits and beaming at one another.

You had attempted to stay home that night, only for Azriel himself to personally fly you up to the House of Wind, insisting that you needed to be there for Starfall.

You knew he meant their engagement, though.

He hadn’t even glanced your way once last Starfall, so you knew it wasn’t that you would be missed by him.

Still, you stood on one of the balconies, watching them. Waiting for the moment that your life would be forever altered, never to have a great love.

Because truly, your one chance at a great love was a mating bond. You knew that no one would choose you to spend their life with, not when you were so plain and boring with nothing to draw people in, to get to know you.

They were dancing together, so wrapped up in each other that it was painful to watch.

And then your feet were moving, leading you straight to them. You met them right as the song finished, the two of them just inches apart.

It stung.

“Azriel, may I speak to you for a moment?” You asked without realizing the words had left your mouth. “Alone, please? It will just be a moment, I promise.”

You cringed at yourself.

What were you doing?

Azriel glanced down at Elain, who nodded with a smile. “Of course. I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss to Elain’s lips before following you back into the House, away from the commotion.

“What’s this about, Y/N?” Azriel asked in a clipped tone once you were alone, anxiously glancing back to where you had left Elain.

“I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Are you really going to tell him?

“Well?” He asked impatiently, his shadows swirling around him.

“I… I’m your mate,” you said, the words rushing out all at once, and your tore your eyes away from his face and to the floor.

“You’re… You’re joking, right?” Azriel asked incredulously.

A dagger of ice to the heart, crafted of your own yearning and longing for him, for your mate.

“No, I… It’s true, Azriel. I am your mate.” Your eyes flicked back up to his face after you said it again, but you wished you hadn’t.

Anything would be better than seeing the horror in his eyes, the disgust twisting his features.

The dagger, forced in further by a hand smacking the hilt.

“You?” Azriel laughed. “Why would the Cauldron make you my mate?”

Twisting, bleeding, shredding your soul apart even as you felt the bond flare to life on his end, the very slightest stumble as he regarded you.

“I… I don’t know…” You whispered, barely audible.

“You’re not my mate,” Azriel said, stepping away from you. “You were never going to be my mate. You’re a fine enough person, sure, but how could you compare to Elain?” He shook his head, snickering to himself. “I suppose these five hundred years of waiting were for nothing. I’ll tell Cassian or Rhys take you back to the town house. Just…” He sighed. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you, it’s me, hmm?”

And with that, the bond between the two of you was shredded, a wounded cry leaving your lips as you sank to the ground, clutching your chest where it used to reside, glowing brightly and giving you a reason to go on.

“I think it’s best for you to stay away from Elain and I. I wouldn’t want you getting territorial and ripping my love’s throat out of anything. Goodbye, Y/N.”

You barely heard him walk away, so overwhelmed with pain.

Why me?

Why was I his mate?

Why didn’t I just drown in the Cauldron?

With a great deal of trying, you managed to hoist yourself back onto your feet, stumbling your way to one of the unoccupied balconies, still clutching your chest.

Your gaping, empty chest.

Because Azriel still had your heart. He had shredded it, mangled it beyond believe but it still resided with him, leaving you with nothing but a hole where it used to be.

Your legs crashed into the edge of the balcony, your hands flying to the stone to steady you.

But it didn’t help, everything was still spinning, blood rushing in your ears as your heart kept beating somehow, somehow still physically intact even as you felt it was being ripped from your chest over and over and over.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t live.

The very fact that Elain was so casual, so blasé about shredding a bond to bits had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your sister.

How could she condemn someone to this existence?

Because already, you weren’t living.

This couldn’t be living.

It couldn’t be.

You risked a peak over the edge, spying the sharp, jagged rocks below.

If you weren’t living now…

Before you could second guess your choice, you lifted yourself onto the balcony, letting your legs dangle for a moment.

Then you swung them over the stone, to the side that had nothing to catch you.

Well, nothing but the cold embrace of death.

Which at this point would be a welcome reprieve from the fiery hot grief flooding through you, grief at the bond that was never given a chance, a moment to be considered.

But perhaps that was all the consideration you needed. To know that you would only have been a burden of mate to the male you had fallen for.

You took one last, jagged breath into your lungs before you slid off the smooth stone, air rushing past you and-

This must be what it feels like to fly.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

[luffington]

hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader

aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.

The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much. 

He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week. 

You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken. 

The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank. 

The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.

Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.

“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.

Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.

Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”

“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”

The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.

“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman. 

“But I am sit–“ 

A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.

“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.” 

Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision. 

Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”

“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”

You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?” 

Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”

Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual). 

“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”

“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”

The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts. 

“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”

“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.

Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end. 

“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”

You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.

“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”

A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.

Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”

“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back. 

“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce. 

He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy. 

Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds. 

“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response. 

“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”

“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”

Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly. 

“Crocodile, please…” 

“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way. 

Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain. 

You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.

Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.

“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…” 

The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”

If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move. 

“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”

“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”

Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.

“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”

Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving. 

Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.

“You… you didn’t cum?”

“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”

“W-wait, give me a minute –”

“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”

Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt. 

“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.

Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name. 

Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own. 

Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”

“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.

“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”

His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail. 

[joelscurls]

stranded

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.6k

summary: your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, no outbreak, explicit smut, oral (f receiving) (joel miller is a munch and u cannot convince me otherwise), slight angst, reader has a shitty/abusive (ex) bf (only briefly mentioned), allusions to piv sex, i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is my entry for the summer lovin' writing challenge put together by the incredible @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery (ily all so much), based on the above moodboard with the location hiking (i went for hitchhiking) and the quote "i'm your only hope". i haven't written in what feels like years & am admittedly rusty, but alas! it was so much fun to get back into writing with a little challenge. dividers by @/saradika-graphics. this was minimally edited; all mistakes are my own.

His red pickup truck had been the first car you'd seen in hours. Rain pouring down, drenching your t-shirt and streaking mascara along the apples of your cheeks, it'd been like a beacon through the fog. 

You’d asked to borrow his cell phone to call a friend. Don't have one, he’d drawled. Got a landline at my place, but the whole county’s without power.

And though you knew nothing about the man in the driver's seat -- not his name nor his history with the law -- you'd still gotten in when he'd pushed open the passenger-side door. After all, you had little other choice.

It was either that, or risk freezing to death on the side of the road where your boyfriend had deserted you.  Ex boyfriend, now. That asshole had taken everything from you: your phone, your keys, your dignity -- and left you for dead. So really, how much worse could this admittedly handsome stranger be?

Just a bit, it turns out. 

Okay, so he's giving you a lift. Back to his place to wait out the storm and call a friend on his landline once the power returns. And he's not hurling nonsensical accusations at you with hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. No declarations of, "My buddy swears he saw you dancing with another guy. Why would he lie about that?"

Still, his silence is beyond off-putting. His brows seem permanently contorted downward, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead as he drives, the highway closer and closer to flooding with every mile that passes. He hasn't asked if you're okay despite the fact that you're holding your ankle in your lap, its incessant throbbing a reminder of when your ex pushed you out of his car earlier. No, he hasn't even offered his name.

You wonder if you're driving to your death.

The first words he speak are muttered under his breath, a quick, "it's just down this road," as pavement turns to gravel. He slows the truck, tires crunching and mud splattering until the trees give way to a tiny wood cabin. The driveway is a long stretch of dirt that winds through an unkempt yard, all tall grass and overgrown shrubs.

It's dark, the sky an angry black as you hobble out of the truck. Your ankle stings and your heart pounds when the strange man rounds on you, and you flinch when he outstretches a hand.

"You hurt?"

His voice, though unamused, drips like thick, rich honey. Pools at your feet with the rainwater.

"Yeah," you respond meekly. Your fingers curl against your palm, nails digging into the skin there. "It's uh, my ankle." His eyes follow yours down to your feet. Widen at the sight of black and blue. 

"Shit."

It's quiet for a long moment. You can tell he's trying to piece it all together: how you ended up alone on the side of the road, hurt.  He still doesn't ask though. Not until a particularly loud rumble of thunder sounds overhead, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

He sighs, a half-hearted comforting hand on your shoulder. 

"Someone dump you out there?" 

"Yeah," you sigh. "Boyfriend. We got into a fight and he just...lost it."

The man nods. Takes a small step forward as you hop on one foot next to him. 

It must take five whole minutes to get to the front door. Your ankle only feels worse by the time you step onto the porch, throbbing having turned into searing pain somewhere along the way. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he jostles the key in the doorknob, the metallic taste of your own blood a temporary distraction.

He motions for you to follow him in, which you do, albeit hesitantly. His house is as you'd expect it to be from your brief encounter: little furniture or decoration, dishes in the sink, a general air of…man…throughout the small, dark space.

“Sit down,” he says. “I'll get a first-aid-kit.”

“Wait,” you stop him, because for some reason it seems of utmost importance in this very moment, despite the flash flood outside and your inability to walk, to know–

“What's your name?”

“Joel.”

You situate yourself on the couch as you wait for him to return. Scan the room for any signs of imminent danger. There’s a bookshelf on the far wall, stacked top to bottom with hardcovers and carved wooden trinkets. You wonder if he – Joel – made them himself. 

You wonder if the books keep him company out here; if the stories of Huck Finn and Moby Dick make him feel less alone. 

You wonder why he’s so isolated in the first place. 

You have little time to dwell on it though, as he re-enters the room promptly, dusty first-aid-kit in one hand and a lantern in the other. He places the latter down by his feet before pulling up a footstool. Opens up the kit and pulls out a roll of gauze.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns, beginning to unravel it.

You nod. Brace yourself. 

By the look of his hands – large and gruff – you expect him to be a bit rough. But he’s gentle, surprisingly so, cradling the lower half of your leg and wrapping your ankle with laser focus. His fingers, though calloused, skate across your skin with a near-startling softness. 

You watch his face as he works on you, quickly finding yourself transfixed by the way his brows contort and his eyes narrow, by the absentminded twitch of his mouth. He looks so much less intimidating like this, and you inadvertently begin to relax into his touch.

He seems to notice this, leaning in closer to your body, and while you know it's just to get a better angle, more precision, it still sends a rather confusing shockwave of electricity up your spine. In this proximity, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Can practically see every fiber of muscle in his biceps as they flex under his flannel shirt.

This close, you're met with the rather inconvenient realization that Joel is beautiful.

You try to tell yourself that it's purely situational, that if you hadn't just been dumped on the side of the road by your asshole boyfriend, you wouldn't be seeking the physical comfort of another man. Still, this does nothing to stop the steady acceleration of your heartbeat, nor the growing arousal between your thighs. 

All of this, despite the pain in your ankle.

You almost don't realize he's done mending you, the shifting of his hand to your opposite calf sending you into a prompt spell of dizziness. Mind flooded with images of him spreading you apart, taking you right here on this worn, leather couch, you're silently reeling. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, a little darker than you recall them being. His fingers curl against your skin and your breath hitches. 

Does he feel this too?

You shift experimentally. Let your legs fall apart just an inch. To your dismay, he pulls his hand back; clears his throat.

And just like that – the bubble bursts.

“All set,” he announces as he stands, before practically running out of the room.

A little humiliated, you retreat back into yourself. Stare out the window and pretend not to notice when he rejoins you in the living room and wordlessly drags his footstool to the opposite side of the room.

The remainder of the day passes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, the sky only growing darker, and it’s a wonder how Joel can even see the pages of the book he’s currently got his nose stuck into.

Not that he’d offered you one. 

Instead, you’ve been stuck in place. A prisoner to this couch, the springs of which are digging into your back uncomfortably. Staring out the window like some harrowed female protagonist in a period piece.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice your presence, after a while. He reads, drinks warm beer, and quite literally twiddles his thumbs. Anything to avoid talking to you. 

You’re not sure what you did wrong. Had you said something to offend him without realizing? Had your subtle pass at him been less subtle than you’d thought? Had you crossed a line? You’d really just considered it innocent flirting. Maybe Joel hadn’t.

Regardless, it makes you wonder why he even brought you here. Maybe he’d just wanted to feel like a hero – hadn’t thought about what came after. About you occupying his precious space. 

After a while of sitting in the same place, your muscles begin to ache. Plus, your throat feels dry. You need to stand, need to get something to drink. Except, when you move to get up, Joel immediately stops you. 

“Where you goin’?” 

“Need a drink.”

“I’ll get you one,” he offers. “What do you want?” 

What you really want is to go home. To forget this entire day even happened.

So you settle on–

“Vodka?” 

He hums. “Don’t got that.”

“Tequila?”

“Got some scotch left. Might be one more beer. Was really hopin’ to have it though.”

You scoff. 

“Okay. Water, then?” 

“That I can do.” 

He disappears into the kitchen and returns moments later with a glass. Hands it over without making eye contact. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. He says nothing in response. Just collects his empty beer bottles from off the floor and retreats once again. 

By the time he comes back, the sun is setting – at least, what can be seen of it through the dark clouds that still rage in the sky. 

He seems tense, fixating himself by the window and watching the storm with such acuity you think he may be waiting for the second it ends to kick you out. 

“Have you heard anything about when this is supposed to pass?” you ask.

“Have no electricity,” he grumbles. “So, no.”

You stretch out your back. Stand. This time, Joel doesn't stop you. “Just didn't know if you had a radio or something.”

“I don't.”

Rounding on him, you attempt to get him to look in your direction. Still, he stares straight ahead, like you're not even there. Frustration bubbles in you, quickly reaching a full boil.

"What is your problem?"

He finally looks at you. And then he laughs, though you get the sense that he's not amused in the slightest.

"My problem?”

You nod. Raise your eyebrows at him.

“I'm lettin' you wait out a storm in my house right now,” he says. “Doesn't seem like somethin' you should be asking me."

You scoff. "I just don't know what I did to piss you off."

He turns to face you completely now. 

"Are you kidding? Haven't done nothing but inconvenience me since you got in my truck. Askin’ for a fuckin’ cocktail like this is some kind of resort. Starin’ at me all day like i'm a guest in my own home.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Why’d you even pick me up?"

"Wasn't gonna drive by a stranded girl on the side of the road, was I?"

You're both silent for a long moment. You can't exactly be mad at him for rescuing you. Still, you feel extremely uncomfortable now, knowing that he doesn't want you here. Tears pickle the corners of your eyes threateningly. You choke them back.

"Well fine, if i'm such a fucking burden, i'll leave."

You're expecting him to open the door for you. Throw you out to the wolves. So you're more than taken aback when he shakes his head at you disapprovingly.

"Like hell you will. There's about two feet of water out there. Where you gonna go?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “But i'll figure it out."

"You'll figure it out?"

"That's what I said."

Joel tuts. "Look at the state of you right now. You can barely even walk. There’s no power anywhere. Just face it: you wanna get home safely, before tomorrow, i'm your only hope."

“Fuck you,” you spit, stepping closer to him. Where does he get off, acting like such a righteous savior? You're going to brush past him, leave anyway, but as soon as you go to move, his hand is winding around your arm.

“Don't.”

“Or what?” you hiss. 

“Just – don't.” His voice is less angry; more pleading.

“You don't want me here,” you say. It's not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Yes I do. I mean – I don't want anything to happen to you out there. Please just – let me make this up to you.”

His hand slides up to your shoulder. Squeezes gently. Your eyes wander to where he holds you. When they flit up to his face again, you find he's already gazing at you.

You're not sure who moves first.

You're back on his couch in an instant, your shorts being tugged down and off your legs, along with your panties. And then Joel is shouldering himself between your legs, shimmying down the couch and situating his face right in front of your pussy.

His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he gets his first taste of you, and he groans. You shudder at the sight of him, the sound of him. Your fingers find their way to the curls at the crown of his head and grasp tightly onto them.

“Is this what you need, baby?” he slurs, and you nod deliriously.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “I know.”

His tongue dips into your apex, greedily lapping up some of your sweet nectar before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, dragging it up to swipe over your swollen clit. 

You instinctually buck against his face, trying to force him closer, and he chuckles. Grabs onto your thighs and pulls you toward his mouth. His tongue begins to relentlessly massage your clit and you cry out, a needy little whine that echoes through the room. 

“Mhm,” he hums against you in understanding, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your core. And then he pulls away, only momentarily, to spit on your pussy, the sound of it so obscene that your eyes roll back in response. He's back on you immediately, plunging two fingers into your soaked cunt and curling them against your g-spot as his tongue laves at you.

In less than a minute, you're coming hard, gushing all over his chin and his hand. He doesn't relent until you're gasping for him to stop, scratching at his shoulders in desperation. And then he's kissing you, the taste of your arousal on his mouth, and though satiated, you've never felt so starving.

“Need you,” you mumble against his lips, your hands roving restlessly across any part of him you can reach, grasping at fabric and skin.

He nibbles at your neck and you inhale the scent of him. Commit the smell of his sweat and musk to memory. This'll probably be the only time you have him, after all. You push that thought to the back of your mind. 

Sitting back on his haunches, Joel pulls off his shirt and undoes his belt. Shucks his jeans off. He hovers back over you with a newfound ferocity in his eyes. 

“Up,” he orders. Helps you sit. You pull your own shirt off and toss it aside. Unclasp your bra and let it fall from your body as Joel stares wolfishly at your exposed chest.

Your eyes, on the other hand, fly straight to his cock. It tents in his boxer, his bulge a bit intimidating, and you feel yourself beginning to salivate.

He chuckles above you, hand coming to rest placatingly on your waist.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

In truth, you're not entirely sure. But you're sure as hell not about to waste any more time wondering.

“Please just – fuck me.”

He shifts his weight. Props your ankle atop his back and rests with his elbows on either side of you. And then he grinds against you, the heft of his hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy.

“Patience,” he tuts. “We got nothin’ but time.”