#I'm ovulating apparently

[xanothersideblogx]

[missisjoker]

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

ngl i'm obviously grateful for the fact that medication exists that can make me function as a human without the extreme period cramps once a month and without the vomiting due to pain.

but the fact that the medication instantly and very obviously also made me. like. fully numb to life. is really not fun and i really don't think it's fair that those are the two like........... options... that exist

[babisawyer]

guess who was manic last night ✌

[twilit-tragedy]

Got blood tests and a gyno ultrasound done yesterday and yikes! I'm just barely not anemic anymore, despite the iron supplements. I got high cholesterol out of nowhere, a severe vitD deficiency and my ovaries look like a battlefield but "not concerning", apparently. Bruh.

[endearng]

Tie

Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, sir kink, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, unprotected pinv, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.

Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist

Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.

During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.

"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.

The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."

"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.

You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.

"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.

You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."

"What was what?"

"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.

Busted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."

You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."

Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog. 

"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."

One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.

But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.

He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.

You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."

Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."

"nnngh, it feels so good."

He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"

"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."

"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"

Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.

"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"

"Always do. Can I?"

"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.

You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.

"I know you do, pretty."

His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.

Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.

Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...

"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.

You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"

Anything...

"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."

"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."

Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.

"'s just how much I want you..."

"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.

Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?

He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.

"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"

"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.

"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?" 

There it was. Your punishment.

One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.

You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.

"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."

"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.

"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."

"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."

"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.

Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."

Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.

He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.

"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.

He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.

He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.

"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.

"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.

Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."

You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."

"Come on, nice and slow, princess."

You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.

"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."

Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."

Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"

"Thank you, sir"

"Thank you for what?" he urged.

“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock. Ah! I'm all yours, sir! Yours."

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight pussy, baby, so perfect for me."

At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.

"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”

"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.

The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.

You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.

“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.

He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.

The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.

He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"

"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.

They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

PRINCESS

NSFW | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: idk yuyu have big cawk & i wanna be his pretty princess

pairing: dom!yunho x female!reader

genre: smut | non-idol au | established relationship

rating: 18+

word count: 1.5k

content/warnings: female reader, sex toys (vibrator), daddy kink, dumbification, bondage (light), name-calling (whore, slut, stupid, princess, baby), creampie, squirting, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism (not really tho), aftercare (ofc 😌)

notes: shhhhh i'm ovulating

“Shhh, you better keep it down baby. Wouldn’t want the whole house to know what a little whore you are, right?” Yunho mused in your ear. The beautifully pathetic little moan you let out in response made him chuckle. 

This was just supposed to be a nice little vacation. All of you had just wrapped up your exams and were in a desperate need of a break, so you’d rented out a really nice house on the beach for you all to stay in. Relaxing at the pool and by the ocean was just what you needed. Except it wasn’t all you needed. And it wasn’t all Yunho needed apparently either. Because it was only your first night here and you and your boyfriend had been at it for hours at this point, and there was no sign of him slowing down anytime soon.

Your wrists were tied with a pretty pink ribbon (his personal favorite) and secured above your head. Leaving your soft skin so available for Yunho. Only the cute pair of pink lace panties you wore kept him from seeing you completely nude. 

And the best part?

The bullet vibrator in your underwear (only secured by the fabric and the squeezing of your thighs). You’d already come so many times, but both of you were so eager to see you released again.

“Yuyu…” you whined and rolled your hips a bit. Arching your back, falling to notice how he bit his lip to mask a groan brought forth by your beautiful tits. 

“Come on princess, give daddy one more and then I’ll give you what you really want.” He pet your hair and kissed your forehead. He sat beside you and caressed your waist, letting his fingers softly trail over your skin. Watching as goosebumps formed on your stomach due to his touch. “Can you come one for time for me, angel?”

You nodded, jaw dropped open, “Mhmm! Oh daddy!” You let out a little gasp, “‘M gonna come…”

“Yeah?” He tilted your chin so you’d look him in the eyes, “Oh my pretty baby. You look so pretty when you come.” He watched your face so intently as you came. The way your eyes rolled back into your head and how your tongue lolled out of your mouth. Giving him the perfect opportunity to do his favorite thing.

He slid his middle and ring finger over the wetness of your tongue. Pressing down and opening your mouth up wide. Wide enough for him to pass a wad of spit from his mouth and down your throat.

And he didn’t even have to tell you to swallow because you did it all on your own. “Good girl.” He whispered against your cheek. Reaching into your panties to remove the vibrator. 

You hummed and leaned into him, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Oh course, princess. Do you think you’re ready for my cock now?”

You looked deep into his eyes and nodded furiously, “Please, Yuyu.” Your thighs pressed together at the thought, “I want it so bad.”

He chuckled at your eagerness, “Ok pretty.” He climbed over you, pressing soft, wet kisses to your sternum and each of your breasts. Holding them in his hands and massaging them as he trailed kisses wherever he saw fit.

Delicately he trailed his fingers under the waistband of your panties, “I like these, baby.” He snapped the elastic against your skin, “They look so cute on you.”

You gasped at the way they stung, “Thank you, daddy.” You repeated like a mantra you’d been conditioned to use. “They’re just for you.”

“Of course they are,” he smirked, lifting himself up from your chest grabbing your chin with a lot more force than probably necessary, “Don’t say stupid stuff, baby. You know how much daddy hates when you act like a dumb slut.”

“I’m sorry Yuyu,” you pouted. And his eyes zeroed in on the way your lip puffed out. God, he wanted to ruin you.

“It’s okay, princess. You can make it up to me, right?” You felt him slide your panties aside, and the brush of his thumb along your swollen and overstimulated clit made you shiver with delight, “I’m gonna fill you with my cum, okay? And you’re just gonna take it like the good girl daddy knows you are.”

You moaned at the idea, “Please,” you whimpered, “I want that so bad. I want you to fill me up. I wanna be so full of come. Yuyu, daddy, plea—.” You were cut off when he rammed into you. With your wrists still secured above your head, you could only tug on the ribbon and writhe around as he fucked you so relentlessly.

Not another coherent word left your pretty lips. You burned with desire. Every part of your body just buzzed with pure pleasure. 

His cock nearly split you in two. But you would take it. You would take it because that’s what he asked you to do. And you couldn’t let him down. Not when he did so much to make you feel good. To make you feel like a princess.

And now, with his cock thrusting into you over and over and over again, filling every fucking inch of your cunt, you felt so grateful for him. He knew just how to make you feel good. He knew to grind against your clit with every thrust. He knew how much you loved when he fondled your chest when he fucked you. And perhaps best of all, he knew where your g-spot was, and he knew exactly what words to say to make you go insane.

He hit your sweet spot with his cock with every single thrust, making sure you felt as much pleasure as he was capable of giving you. He degraded you like no other, “Oh my dumb little slut. You're such a pretty princess until someone puts their cock in you,” the depth of his chuckle shoots straight to your pussy, and he can feel you tighten, “It’s just so easy, isn’t it, baby? To make you a dumb little bunny? A stupid little whore who’ll do whatever I want?”

And all you could do was nod, only forming incoherent little noises from the back of your throat. But you didn’t need to talk, because he knew exactly what was coming. He brought his fingers to your clit and gave it all of his attention. Pressing his thumb into it and making circles faster than you could comprehend. 

He pulled out just in time to watch you squirt all over his bed. You back arched and you cried loud (the house’s other occupants completely forgotten) as your pussy sprayed all over the sheets and all over your lover’s thighs and chest. “Oh fuck, there you go princess!” He ran his fingers through your folds, making sure to get his fingers extra wet. And he brought them to your mouth so you could taste yourself. “You’re such a good girl. Daddy’s so proud of you.” He kissed your forehead, “Just a little longer, okay? You still need daddy’s come inside you.”

And when he entered you again it was as if you were made perfectly molded for him. His baby. His princess. There was no doubt. You were his. This pussy was his. Your little gasps and moans were for him. You whimpering and begging was only for him to fuck you harder. And he knew that you would do absolutely anything just to please him.

And that’s the thought that pushed him over the edge. His come was hot as it filled you. Coating your walls. And his favorite part? The way it leaked out of your pulsing pussy when he pulled out. And he fucking loved pushing it back in with his fingers. “Oh baby~” he cooed, “You did so good.”

“Th-thank you…” you could barely mumble out.

He reached above your head to untie the ribbons the held your wrists captive. And almost immediately you wrapped your arms around his neck like a koala, pulling him down on top of you. He chuckled and rolled over onto his back, letting you stay tangled up in his arms. He hummed contently and kissed the top of your head, “Don’t get too comfortable, baby.”

You whined and shook your head against his chest.

“We need to go to the bathroom.”

You pouted, “Just gimme five minutes.”

He chuckled, “Okay baby, five minutes.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's not here, but she'll be - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

requests: "hello can i request one with lewis where he has been having a baby fever ... fluff and smut of course. and can we have a very slow and sexy one because he wants to take his time with her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻" - anon 2 ;

"hi, can I request a prequel to She's here and she's ours ... maybe it was hard to conceive and things weren't always all flowers" - anon 1

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of troubles with infertility, unprotected sexual activities (all sorts)

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Combined requests again because anon 2 asked for something that gave me the idea for the prequeal (sorry for how long it took anon 1, but hope the wait was worth it)

a/n.2: The tone of this whole series is mixing angst and fluff, this time I added a bit of smut too, hope you guys like it

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The discarded ovulation test lay on the bathroom counter, a white plastic screaming what her ovulation app had already warned to. Y/n stared at it, not really sure she even wanted to know about it that month.

The more you want something, the harder it is. That's what they said anyway, and apparently it wasn't any different when it came to “trying” to get pregnant, a euphemism that felt increasingly hollow with each passing cycle.

Doctors assured her a year was still considered normal, but the constant hum of wanting, the way it colored every conversation, every shared glance, was starting to wear on them both.

Six months. Six months of basal body temperatures, ovulation predictors, and Lewis’ frustrated attempts at scheduling "baby time" around his chaotic schedule.

“Again?” as Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he saw her face, then the test on her hands and his smile faltered.

He sighed, walking over to wrap his arms around Y/n. She leaned into him, but the spark of hope she usually felt was absent.

"It's been too long, Lew" she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. " The schedules, apps, and ovulation calendars. It's driving me insane."

“Maybe we just need to try harder” he suggested, trying to be optimistic. But the forced cheer didn't fool her.

“Harder?” Y/n pulled back slightly, the edge in her voice surprising even herself. “Lewis, it's like we're robots. Everything's always timed, charted…”

Lewis turned to face her. "You think I enjoy this? Every time we fail, it's like there's this... pressure. Like if it doesn't work, it's my fault."

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. "It's not about fault. It's about us. It feels like we’re losing sight of why we wanted this in the first place."

"It's not supposed to feel calculated, is it?" he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. "We both want this, right?"

"Of course, we do," Y/n insisted, her voice a touch too sharp. "But it's like we're robots following a program instead of… you know, a couple."

He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt. "That's not fair, Y/N. We’re trying our best here. Circumstances might not be the most ideal but it’s what we got"

Tears welled up in her eyes, her frustration boiling over. Lewis's shoulders slumped as he saw the evident fear in her eyes, his anger giving way to hopelessness. "I just... I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe," Y/N's voice held such certainty that surprised even herself, "maybe we should take a break.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise starting to take hold in his eyes. "A break? From trying?"

"Yeah," she took a deep breath before continuing, a growing conviction in her tone. "From the apps, schedules, calendar, the whole... stress. We just focus on us, and why we want this."

He was silent for a moment, considering her words. "What if it takes even longer?"

"Then... we'll deal with that when we get there," she said, her hand gently touching his cheek. "I want this pregnancy, but not like this. Not at the cost of us."

Lewis closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of their struggles hanging heavy in the air. He shook his head with an understanding nod "We've been so caught up in this that we've forgotten about us." he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"I love you; you know ?!" she whispered, the words catching him by surprise in their suddenness. She hadn't said them in days, maybe weeks, the unspoken worry choking the words back.

Lewis tilted his head, his gaze searching hers. "I love you, always." His voice was laced with tenderness. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "We'll get there " he whispered. "We'll have our family. I believe that with all my heart."

The positive pregnancy test felt surreal. Lewis and Y/n sat on the bed, the silence in the room only broken by the soft hum of the air conditioner. The digital test lay between them, its stark message still blinking: "Pregnant 5-6 weeks."

Y/n turned to Lewis, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and disbelief. "This can’t be real," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’ve been on the pill... we weren’t even trying."

Lewis stared at the test, then at her, his mind struggling to process the information. "We haven't thought about having kids for over a year." he stated, his voice filled with bewilderment

Tears filled Y/n’s eyes, but this time a mix of confusion and hope. "I didn’t even think about missing my period." she confessed. "I thought it was just the stress of the season, the move, the change in routines…"

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "This is real," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We’re really going to be parents."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, the reality of their news slowly sinking in. The past months of not even considering pregnancy, of relying on birth control, seemed to amplify the miracle of this moment. The weight of their previous struggles felt lighter, replaced by the shock and anticipation of the new life they had miraculously created.

"Five to six weeks," Y/n murmured, looking at the test again. "How could this happen?"

Lewis frowned, trying to remember. "What were we doing around then?" he asked, his brow furrowing in thought.

Y/n bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don’t know... maybe I missed a pill or something. But I really thought I was careful."

Lewis looked at her thoughtfully, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her hands “That’s not on you love, we decided on no condoms, remember?! We knew it could happen”.

Then, out of the blue with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes lighting up with realization. "Silverstone."

Y/n’s eyes widened as she remembered and stated "Silverstone!” Lewis nodded, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n's cheeks flushed as she recalled the night. She looked at Lewis, a smile spreading across her face despite the lingering shock.

Lewis looked at her, his grin widening. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Y/n laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I guess we were celebrating more than just you that night."

"We were celebrating us" Lewis said, his voice filled with warmth and love. "And now, we have even more to celebrate."

He leaned in, kissing her tenderly, resting their foreheads against each other when they pulled back.

"We're going to be parents," she whispered, the reality finally settling in.

"We're going to be parents," Lewis echoed, his heart swelling with joy and excitement. "I love you, Y/n. And I love our little one so much already."

The Silverstone circuit buzzed with the electric energy of a crowd celebrating a hero’s homecoming. Lewis, now a Ferrari driver, had held his own, going from p3 at the starting line to the tallest step of the podium, beaming as the Union Jack waved above him.

After the race, the celebration shifted to a more intimate setting. Lewis’s family, Y/n, and a tight-knit group of friends gathered at a house in the countryside nearby. The energy of the race lingered, laughter and music filling the air. It was a night of toasts.

As the party slowly wound down, the house fell silent. Guests retired to their rooms, and the sun began to hint at its arrival on the horizon, leaving Lewis and Y/n by themselves in the garden, the weight of the day finally sinking in.

“Can you believe it?” Lewis whispered, his voice hoarse from cheering. He was sprawled on the couch, Y/n nestled against him.

“You were amazing,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m so proud of you.”

He kissed her forehead gently, his eyes closing as he felt the exhaustion wash over him. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll celebrate properly tomorrow.”

Y/n nodded, her eyelids heavy and he led them to their bedroom.

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the unknown room. Y/n stirred, her body snug against Lewis’s as he spooned her, one arms securely holding her close and the other serving as her pillow.

As she shifted, she felt a familiar pressure against her back. She turned slightly, her eyes opening to find Lewis still asleep, his breathing was steady, but she could feel his arousal pressing into her. A soft moan escaped his lips as he dreamt, his hips subtly moving against her.

Y/n smiled to herself, a gentle warmth spreading through her at the feeling of him. She shifted again, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning, champ,” she replied softly, turning her head to look at him.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling despite the lingering fatigue. “I must have been having a really good dream,” he joked, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip.

Y/n chuckled, pressing back against him. “I noticed” she teased rubbing her ass with a bit more vigor against him.

She could feel his arousal growing more insistent as his breaths came out in hisses. She bit her lip, considering their options. “Do you think anyone’s awake?” she whispered, glancing towards the door.

“Probably,” Lewis replied, his hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress her skin. “But we can be quiet.”

A shiver ran through her at his touch, and she nodded. “I doubt you’ll let me” her voice dropping to a whisper. He smiled mischievously, his fingers trailing up her side. “I’ll try,” he promised.

Slowly, he rolled her onto her side, spooning her again from behind. He nuzzled into her neck, his hand sliding down to the waistband of her shorts. She held her breath as his fingers slipped inside, brushing against her most sensitive spot.

She gasped softly, biting her lip to stifle the sound. “Lew” she breathed, her hips instinctively pressing back against him.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, teasing and exploring until she was panting with need. Her hands gripped the sheets, trying to stay quiet as he worked her up.

When he finally slid a finger inside her, she had to bite down on the pillow to keep from crying out. He added another finger, stretching her gently, his movements unhurried and tender. She could feel his breath hot against her neck, his own restraint evident in the way he held her.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yeah” she whispered, barely able to speak. “Please.”

He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he slowly pushed inside. She moaned softly, the feeling of him filling her almost overwhelming. He paused once he was fully seated, giving her time to adjust, the pause also helping him control his breathing.

When she took a deep breath, relaxing into the sensation of him with a “You can move.” he started with slow, gentle thrusts, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The rhythm was languid, each movement measured and precise. Y/n’s breaths came in short, quiet gasps, her body trembling with each stroke.

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, the occasional creak of the bed as they moved together. Every so often, she had to remind him to stay quiet, her whispers blending with his low grunts.

When he hit a particularly sensitive spot, she bit back a cry, his hand reaching to cover her mouth. She licked her fingers, his thrusts becoming more insistent with the scene.

“I can’t… I’m so close,” she panted, her voice muffled against his hand, her body arching against him.

“Just a little longer, love, I’m almost there.” He quickened his pace, each movement somehow reaching deeper.

Lewis’s body tensed, his toes curling as he felt her walls starting to flutter, and with a final, deep thrust, he came shortly after her, their bodies shaking with the intensity of it. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling her cries as Lewis held her tightly and lowly grunted into her neck.

For a moment, they lay there, catching their breath, the room filled with the soft glow of morning light. Finally, Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, just below where he had left his mark, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Best celebration ever,” he whispered, a satisfied smile on his face. Y/n laughed softly, turning her head to kiss him. “Next time though, we’ll wait until I can have my way with you, no muffed moans”

She chuckled, nuzzling into his neck. “Deal.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[lemonlover1110]

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you. 

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking. 

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches. 

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you. 

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

[purplecoffee13]

i'm always feral for mmf threesomes when i'm ovulating. maybe y/n and her boyfriend pick harry up at a bar?

First of all, thank you for the request!🥰

Second of all, I feel like I should do something along the lines of apologize for writing this piece of absolute filth, and I would…

except I do not have an ounce of regret, so I will just say, enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT, threesome (mmf), bimbofication (a bit), possessiveness, jealousy, degradation,

Wc: 2.2k

If you had asked yourself earlier today how tonight would end, you would have guessed a lot of things, except for the actual situation you found yourself in right now.

Being fucked by your boyfriend, Aaron, and your old college crush, Harry.

You'd visited to your college city for a couple of days with Aaron to attend the wedding of a friend of yours who you'd met in college. It was there that you ran into Harry. Back when you were in college, you had a massive crush on him. You almost kissed once, but unfortunately nothing ever truly happened.

Aaron and Harry were apparently friends in college, you'd learned upon chit chatting with both of them, and they had stayed acquainted over the years, but really only on social media.

Harry still had that exact charm that you fell for in the first place. It was like time had stood still for him, as if no environment would ever affect the charisma that made him shine like a rare diamond in a sea of dull rocks.

You were lying to herself if you said you didn't feel that flutter in her belly as he spoke in that low voice and hot accent, or didn't feel the blood rushing to your cheeks when he flashed you that signature grin of his. He still had it. Dammit.

When he proposed to meet up at a bar on the last night you and Aaron were here, you hadn't thought that much of it. It seemed like fun.

And it was, it really was.

You talked, you drank, talked some more and drank more. You still have no idea when the conversation turned sexual, but you were sure it was somewhere after your question to Harry about whether he had a partner or not.

"No, I'm single." He'd said, and chuckled when you nodded slowly. "Don't take pity on me, I have plenty of fun."

"Yeah? Player. What kind of fun, hmm?" Aaron had asked teasingly, an arm draped around your shoulder. Harry shrugged.

"Oh you know, the usual. One night stands, threesomes..."

"Threesomes are the usual for you?" You'd asked, leaning forward a bit as a frown painting your face. The man in front of you only hummed, biting the inside of his cheek at the sight of your curiosity.

"Yeah, they are."

"So what, you just always have two people on speed dial for that?" You were aware that you were coming across a bit nosy, but you didn't care, you were intrigued.

"It's mainly couples I do it with, actually."

"Couples?" Aaron piped up.

"Yeah, they ask me to join. 'S pretty nice. Never have to worry about hurting someone's feelings, since they're already involved with each other, y’know?”

His answer was met with hums coming from both you and Aaron, and you’d thought, that was that. This part of the conversation was over, and it was now to be steered into another direction. That was until your boyfriend said something that made the hairs on your neck rise up.

“What would you think about having a threesome with us?”

It was solely because of the sheer shock that had taken over your body that you didn’t gasp aloud, and by the time you’d had some time to let his words sink in, a heated tension had already settled in your lower stomach that kept you from getting mad at your boyfriend for suggesting this out of the blue. Harry’s voice caught you off guard.

“You would want that, the both of you?” He asked, and you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were fixated on you, but the enlarged pupils and the unspoken words that had been hanging between the two of you since you met each other in college told you Harry wanted this, badly. That look alone made you swallow before nodding your head.

“Y— yeah, we’d want to.” You said, not daring to take your eyes off him. “Would you?”

His mouth curled up into a grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Harry had really taken that invitation as a challenge. You could vouch for that, because he was currently eating you out like it was a competition and the goal was to make you come as fast as you could. His skilled tongue licked at you like his life depended on it and the pressure he brought to your clit was indescribable.

You would've moaned out his name when he punched his clit, but your mouth with occupied with your boyfriend's cock, which he drove into you over and over, fucking your mouth.

The sensation was incredible. Aaron was hitting the back of your throat, something you knew was bringing him to his orgasm quicker. He loved sticking all of his dick inside your mouth, watching you choke on it as you sputtered for air.

When you felt that he was really close, you took your mouth from his cock and voiced your needs. Or, tried to, at least.

"I— I want to be fucked. I want someone inside me, please." You asked politely, trying not to let your sentence get swallowed by all the moans you were fighting from escaping your lips as Harry continued to eat you out as if you were a five course meal. He took his lips off of you, smirking as he looked over to your boyfriend, raising his brow.

"You're the boyfriend. What do you say, has she deserved it?" He asked, getting up, both men now towering over you. Aaron pushed you back onto the bed, and Harry spread your legs before they both leaned back to observe you.

"She sure wants it." Aaron lowered his gaze to your glistening pussy, muscles flexing as he crossed his arms. "Don't know if she deserves it, though."

"She's so greedy, isn't she? Has she always been like this?" Harry grinned as he took in your body, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. Your breathing picked up with each second that neither of them were touching you.

"Oh yeah, she can be a real slut for it. Can't you, baby?" Aaron asked you, and you nodded your head, not caring that they were talking like this about you. In fact, you loved it. It was so hot to have them speak about you in such a demeaning tone, it onlymade the tension in your belly grow.

"Yes, I'm a slut for it. Please, fuck me." You begged. The anticipation crawled at your skin as you watched the two men look at each other for a couple seconds. It was the simple raise of Harry's brow that had your stomach flip, as it was followed by Aaron positioning himself in front of you and ramming his cock inside your wet cunt.

You shrieked at the force with which he entered you, shutting your eyes and not noticing that Harry had sat himself next to you until he began playing with your breasts. You shivered when he brought his lips to your ears.

"Such a dirty girl, you are. Never would've guessed it back in college." You could hear the amusement dripping in his tone as his hand lowered further and further until he reached your clit. You clenched your walls as he began toying with it, earning a groan from Aaron.

"Look at you, taking your boyfriends' cock so well." He turned to Aaron. "Fuck man, you taught her well. She’s just laying there and taking it like it's her only option."

You whined as Harry pinched your clit, like he had before. Your legs began to tremble at the amount of sensations that were happening at the same time. You knew you were getting closer to your climax.

"She loves it." Aaron groaned, driving into your harder and making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hit that toe curling spot.

"I can see that..." Harry hummed. "Are you going to come for him sweetheart? You gonna drench his cock?"

"F— fuck, yes! Yes! I'm so close!" You cried out, and Harry's fingers began circling on your clit faster at the sound of your proclamation.

"C'mon then, come for us." He growled, before closing in on your ear again and whispering softly: "If only I had known you were such a dirty girl, I would have fucked you much sooner."

A long, pornographic moan bellowed through the room as you convulsed around Aaron's cock, clenching around him over and over until Aaron himself was groaning and coming inside you as well. It felt good to be filled up with his seed, despite the fact that you had just mainly orgasmed because of another man's words.

Aaron stilled inside you for a couple of seconds, the both of you recovering from your intense orgasms. He slowly began to pull out, and you couldn't help but pout at the feeling of emptiness. Aaron smiled at you.

"You can fuck her too, if you want. Can tell she wants to be filled up all the way." Your boyfriend offered to Harry, who nodded as he got up from the bed. Aaron got in Harry's position, whispering in your ear.

"And when I'm hard again, I'll paint that pretty face of yours." He kissed your cheek, which heatened at that promise.

"You really don't mind if I fuck her?" Harry asked, just to be sure. He wanted to avoid any awkward moments. Aaron nodded.

"Yeah. I've always been a bit voyeuristic, and I've been wanting to try this for a while." He explained, looking at you as he stroked your hair. You nodded in confirmation. Aaron had told you about that kink of his. He loved watching you get off.

"Alright." Harry looked at you. "Are you okay with it as well?"

"Yes, I am." You smiled at the man in front of you.

"Would you like me to play into it a bit?" Harry asked Aaron carefully. After your boyfriend told him he could, a wicked grin appeared on Harry's face.

Without another word, he pushed his dick into you. Your eyes widened, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from yelling too loudly. Harry was big. Of course, you'd seen that, but you hadn't really calculated how thick he actually was. He stretched you out with every inch that sank into you, and you could almost feel yourself getting dizzy as a result of it. It was so much. Aaron sat back and began stroking his already semi hard cock.

"Fuck, aren't you a good little whore? So obedient, even when your boyfriend lets another man fuck you." He thrusted himself in and out of you lazily, building up his pace. It was a bit unfamiliar to you; Aaron would start roughly and get a bit more sloppy and slow towards the end.

"Ye— oh... oh!" The words that you meant to say faded as Harry's long strokes became harsher, knocking the wind out of you with each rigorous thrust.

"But you like it. Love to be filled all the way, like your boyfriend said? One man's seed is just not enough for you, is it?" He began to pick up the speed. His fingers were back circling your clit like before. You nodded your head furiously and looked to the side, seeing your boyfriend rub himself off with his hand as he watched the scene between you and Harry. He looked so entranced, so aroused by it all; he was loving it.

Harry took his hand off your clit and placed both his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you as he began to fuck into you deeper and harder. You felt like his cock might split you in two if he went on for long enough, if he didn’t split the bed in two before that.

"Now I'm gonna come inside you soon baby," Harry said so lowly that Aaron couldn't hear. You looked to your boyfriend, who looked to be having the time of his life watching you get railed by someone else. "and when I do, I want you to savor every fucking second of my cum coating your tight walls."

You bit your lip, keeping your eyes on Aaron as Harry murmured into your ear.

"I want you to remember how good this feels. Remember it at night when you lay next to him… remember how you could have this— have me every night." 

Harry didn't even give you time to process what he said, leaning back and gesturing for Aaron to come closer, instructing him to come all over your face like he said he would.

That's when Harry began to jackhammer into you. It was as if nothing was holding him back now. You weren't physically able to take your eyes off the man fucking you. You moaned and cried and whined until you felt liquid painting your face. Aaron's pained groan made you flick your eyes to your boyfriend, and when they traveled back to Harry, the lazy grin on his face took you out.

The feeling of your second orgasm was out of this world, and you felt like you were being thrown into space the second you felt Harry's hot cum spurting into you. The sound of Harry's own groan had you gushing around him like this was the first time you'd come in months.

It was so filthy that the circumstances around it had made you so worked up, but you couldn't care less as you rode out that euphoric high on Harry's cock, sight half blurry because of some of Aaron's seed that had spilled over your eyes.

Your ears were still ringing, Harry’s words racing through your head, when your boyfriend said:

“Well, that was fun.”

I REGRET NOTHING

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Office hours.

Pairing: modern!Javier Peña x f!reader Words count: 3059 Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours? Tags: porn with very little plot, modern setting (they have computers and chats), POV second person, reader is described wearing a skirt, blouse and heels & having pussy and breasts, no other description of her is given, Javier is an unhinged menace and has a filthy mouth but so is reader, dirty talk, teasing, improper use of office chat, cockwarming, masturbation (f!receiving), pet names, slurs, pussy pronouns, mention of a sex toy, no Spanish because I don't really want to butcher another language since I am doing this extensively with English 💀, squirting, sexual activities in a public place, no age gap, age unspecified so it’s up to you (they’re both in their 30s in my head), the work they do is not specified so you can imagine what you want. I think it’s all? If I realized that I forgot something I’ll add it right away.

A/N: This is the second time I've tried to write Javi P and I'm terrified but because it came out on its own in a frenzy: here we gooo. I'm ovulating and I'm horny af. LOL It probably doesn't make sense, I don't have a beta reader, I reread it myself but my eyes are tired, English is not my first language so I ask your forgiveness if you find mistakes. I hope you like the dirty talk of this thing, I feel like it came out particularly well…fingers crossed.

You should really focus on your work, you have a deadline to meet tomorrow and you're still behind. And you certainly can't focus with a certain coworker in front of you. When they decided that you had to share a big office you secretly decided that your boss was an idiot. How productive could you have been with Javier Peña sitting at the desk in front of you? Obviously your boss expected you both to be adults, capable of controlling your own instincts. What you thought instead was that it would be the hell that it actually is. Because Javier is a charming bastard and you have had a crush on him since day one and he's definitely the type to flirt with all the women in the office.

You hate his guts and you fight practically all the time over any little inconvenience, but the creeping attraction between you, that feeling of always being on the edge of a cliff, that constant urge to provoke him to see which one of you would crack first never left. 

And today, when he showed up in yet another shirt that left his chest partially exposed-because the bastard in question wasn't the least bit interested in buttoning the last few buttons-and those damn skinny jeans straight from the ‘70 that on anyone would have looked silly and anachronistic but on him did nothing but send you into a frenzy of desire, you felt it might be the last straw.

Appropriate office attire does not exist for him, he only wears a tie for meetings with your boss but the rest of the time he dresses as he wants and apparently no one says anything to him. Fucking great, just what you need, seeing his chest displayed right in front of your eyes all the damn time.

You never even liked mustaches but now you couldn't help thinking how much you wished they would rub against your folds as he lapped at your cunt. You dreamed of him carrying your scent on him for the rest of the day, dreamed of kissing him and tasting you on his tongue.

You dreamed of getting up and going to sit on his lap as you continued to type the report you promised your boss and his cock rubbed against your thighs, your panties, and even better your bare pussy. You thought about it practically all morning and got so wet that you risked wetting your office chair, so much so that on your lunch break you had to hide in one of the bathroom stalls and take them off, to store them in a bag inside your purse. 

But now you are naked under your skirt. Which is even worse and makes things even harder for you. You jotted down in your mind that it was time to think about bringing a change of underwear with you. Now the fact that Javi was on the other side of the room was even more unbearable than before, setting you on fire. The temptation to do something stupid and make yourself a needy fool was eating you up. 

Javi looks up for a moment from the documents he is working on, casting one of his typical glances at you, big brown captivating eyes that stare at you many times during the day, only for a few seconds at a time. Minutes of each day flow so slowly when he is in front of you. You really shouldn't think about him; you're here to work. In theory. And you need this damn salary if you don't want to live without electricity or run out of food. The selfish asshole in front of you however doesn't seem to care that you will probably be fired soon and end up under a bridge, because he continues to tease you in any way he can. One day it's a quip about your nail polish, the next about your overly revealing blouse, the next about the length of your skirt. And then there are those glances, sometimes accompanied by a wink, mischievous smirks, a tilt of his head, little things that no one ever notices but you. He never pushes the envelope, but oh, by now you know he wants to. A week ago he asked you if you wanted to have a drink after work, and you said no, absolutely not, never mix business and pleasure, it was a very strict policy in your department. 

You regretted it right away, but what else could you have done? He's not someone you can trust.

He didn't push further, of course, which made you even more impatient, nervous, incredibly horny.

It's a challenge now, you have to have him. And you have to have him before your female colleagues, at least the ones on your floor. You always notice how they look at him, languid and sweet eyes, lip licks and lower lip nibbled, hair moved behind their ear, every time he walks down the hallway of your floor, there is no lady who doesn’t stop working at least for a moment to marvel at him.

It’s late now, the sun has long since gone down, almost everyone around you has been gone for at least 30 minutes, but you have been distracted all morning and now you have to catch up. You hoped he would leave with the others but he stayed here. You’re doomed at this point, you can’t even think straight anymore. You know there’s some other colleagues three offices ahead, down the hall, whom you saw five minutes ago when you got up to get a cup of coffee. As you reread what you wrote, with your eyes fixed on the computer screen, you can't get him out of your mind, feeling his eyes on you, heat blazing under your skin. You turn toward the door in a clumsy attempt to avoid his gaze, realizing that you have closed it.

And well, after all, you've been working hours, maybe you can take a little break. Just five minutes. And what better to do in those five minutes than tease Javi? 

You don't mind playing and playing with him seems almost natural and physiological given his constant attempts to sabotage your self-control; perhaps you could try to sabotage his a little without risking too much.

So you open your legs. Just a little bit, just enough to show him that you're not wearing panties. 

And you look at him, without saying anything. Javi licks his lips, you know his eyes have caught in full what you wanted him to see. His jaw tenses, his hand clenches into a fist over the papers he is examining. Little imperceptible reactions that you crave like water in the middle of a desert. 

Until the chat banner you use to communicate with colleagues lights up on your desktop. 

“I can smell you from here.” it says. The sender is obviously that bastard you share an office with. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you quietly type. 

After a few seconds another message appears.

"Your delicious pussy, of course, you tempting little slut." You turn to look at him who is totally deadpan.  

You click your tongue and type, “You should be thinking about your work, not my pussy, you know? Highly unprofessional. I should go straight to someone in HR and report you”

“Oh yeah? And so you want everyone to know that you come to work without underwear. Typical greedy slut behavior." 

You lean against the desk, pretending to be shocked at first, looking at him with disappointment. A small smile creases the corners of his mouth, a hint of teeth between his lips, his eyes fiercely twinkling, he is convinced he has made you uncomfortable. 

Smiling in turn, savoring the taste of victory, you lower a hand between your legs, grazing your now totally soaked folds.

His eyebrows rises slightly, his eyes fixed on your fingers moving slowly over your outer lips. 

You type “I think you like what you see” With your other hand. 

He swallows, lowering a hand to his jeans in turn. You lean against the back of the chair to get a better look and clearly catch the tent that is growing under the crotch. He bites his lower lip, one hand moving up and down over his bulge and the other typing on the computer keyboard. 

“I bet you don't have the guts to come over here and make my cock feel that tight pussy of yours.”

Okay, you think, if you want to play dirty that's what you're going to get. 

You look around, listening to every little noise from the other rooms, the office seems empty and quiet. 

You close your eyes, just a moment, before grabbing some papers from your desk, getting up and walking toward him, swaying on your heels. 

What you've been dreaming of doing all morning is about to happen, you feel yourself floating like in a bubble.

He unbuckles his belt and pulls down the zipper of his jeans, freeing his huge shaft as he stares at you.

He turns his wheeled office chair toward you and you straddle him. 

He grabs your hips gently pushing you down on his cock, the tip grazing at your folds “such a slut” 

“If anyone here is a whore it's you. Do you think I don't know that you're getting off with half the accounting department?”

“Mh, maybe you should inform your pussy, she seems to have lost the memo judging by how much she's dripping on me.”

He holds his cock with one hand as you lower yourself onto him, looking down to where your pussy and his cock are coming into conjunction.

“Oh please shut up, I don't give a shit about your office banter.” 

You drag this out for months, days upon days of longing and teasing and nights spent in bed imagining that he was the one sucking you off instead of your toy.

You lean down holding his shoulders and whisper in his ear, “Stuff it all in.’” and you start rubbing yourself against him, feeling his huge dripping cock all inside your cunt. He stays still. 

You moan lightly and he shushes you "you have to be quiet honey, do you want us to be caught? Do you want them to notice that you are cockwarming me instead of working?”He places one of his hands on your mouth, your stifled moans vibrating on his fingers as you grind until your cream is leaking down his balls, his jeans, making a mess on his chair.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet” he murmurs thrusting a little and starting to hump his whole dick inside, he reaches your clit with two fingers and starts moving them slowly in circles over it “she’s squeezing me so right, baby, I can go on for hours just like that, stuffing you full with my cock” His other hand is resting on your hip, just above the waistband your skirt and he holds you close to him. 

He pulls out a little and pounds it back in, making you writhe and moan “Fuck yeah, you hear it? Your noisy sticky little cunt gushing for me? It’s like a fucking symphony” he whispers 

Your whines vibrate on his fingers “oh baby, you really have to learn your manners. I said keep quiet.” He removes his hand from in front of your lips and sticks two fingers in your mouth “suck these. Maybe you'll learn to be quiet with your mouth full. Or should I fill that one with my cock too?”

You suck them greedily, feeling the taste of your pussy spread over your tongue. “That’s right, baby, just like that”

You hear the main floor door slam, the last people have also left, you are now alone and his cock is buried inside you.

“Jesus, look at the mess you’ve made on me, sucking my cock in like the desperate little slut you are… you wanna come, huh?” 

You nod, as your tongue swirls on his digits, licking and sucking enraptured by your taste and his gaze locked on yours. 

“Yeah, I bet you want this cock to pound you senseless, am I right?” 

You nod again, feeling your heart raging behind your ribcage. 

You never felt so desperate for anyone, the way he’s torturing you, his cock deep down inside you without moving an inch, your pussy drenched, his precum smearing all over your walls mixing with your fluids. 

You feel delirious. 

“I know baby but not here.” He whispers mischievously and your eyes are almost on the verge of tears “you can come tho, let me help but you have to be very quiet for me, okay?” 

You think the office is empty, but you can't be sure, there are so many rooms and someone could still be inside.

He slides his fingers out of your mouth and puts them back on your clit, starting to rub it gently. They are coated in your saliva and slide pleasantly over it, sending you almost over the edge. 

“Look how swollen she is, poor little cunt, she wants to come so badly, isn’t she?” his low hoarse voice gravels in your ears as he pinches your clit and begins to jerk it off faster. 

You writhe trying to stand up a little to ease your numbed legs but he pins you down on his cock digging his fingers in your hip “nah, you stay where you are, honey, gonna come full of me and at the pace of my fingers” 

You bite your lower lip hiding your face in the crook of his neck “no, look me in the eyes, I want to see that pretty face while you come like a whore for me”

One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck as you force yourself to look in his eyes. They are black with lust and desire, pupils dilated and fixed on yours in a frenzy.

His fingers move faster and faster, his cock throbs inside you.

“Come apart for me, babe, let me feel your greedy cunt squirting for me, come on” 

His words are enough to send you over the edge, you come copiously squirting on top of him as he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, you’re so fucking beautiful right now” 

You strive to keep your eyes on him but eventually throw your head back overwhelmed by the heat spreading inside you, enveloping every cell in your body and pulsing uncontrollably in your veins. 

It’s too much, it’s all too much and he didn’t even fuck you properly yet. 

You collapse onto his shoulder, holding onto his neck, panting against his skin “Fuck” 

“Yeah, baby, I know, that’s what you wanted huh? Coming full of me like a bitch in heat?” 

You look into his eyes and whisper, “Oh, no, I want so much more.” 

“Oh yeah? What else do you want?” He grins.

“Take me home. Now.” 

“Ask nicely, baby” 

You huff “Take me home, Javi, please” 

He chuckles “Hungry little thing, what do you want me to do for you once we get home?” 

You sigh and then looking into his eyes defiantly whisper “I want you to fuck me, I want you to fuck me so hard that I scream, I want the whole neighborhood to hear me. I want your cock pounding inside me all night”

He clicks his tongue and replies, “So cheeky asking me to take you home and fuck you while my cock is still inside you.”

“That’s what I want, do you think you can do that for me?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. 

“Of course. You chose the right man for the job.” 

He slaps your ass before you stand up and fix your clothes as best you can. His jeans are completely covered in your juices and his cock still rock hard, you hope that no one is really there or they will notice what you have done.

“Here, put this around your waist,” you say, handing him your black cardigan. 

He looks down at his jeans, laughing. “Damn, you made a real mess. I think I’ll have to get rid of that chair, too.”

He wraps your cardigan around his waist so that the sleeves hang down the front, almost completely covering the dark, wet stain.

“Let’s get out of here” 

You take a deep breath, turning the doorknob down and looking out into the hallway, you look left and right and there doesn’t seem to be anyone “come on, let’s hurry” you say waving and he chuckles behind you. You walk out the door in silence, walking down the hallway to the front door.

You press the elevator button while he pinches your ass “stop it” you hiss. 

You enter the elevator, side by side, and as the doors are about to close, a hand reaches between them, stopping them. 

Your boss enters and looks at you in surprise. “Oh, you’re still here?” 

You’re screaming internally as you struggle to keep a poker face and reply calmly “Yes, of course. I had to work on that report and Javier offered to help me out.” 

Your boss nods, completely unaware. “Good, I expect it to be on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

You nod, lying, “yeah sure, definitely, it's practically over.” as you hear Javier stifle a laugh. 

You turn to give him a disapproving look as he covers his mouth and looks down to quell his giggles.

You arrive at the lobby in the longest elevator ride of your life.

“See you tomorrow then, have a good evening” Your boss says as soon as you three come out. 

“Good evening” you babble thanking God he didn't notice anything.

“Oh shit, that was a close call!” Javier laughs as soon as your boss gets in the car.

You slap him on his shoulder “does that sound funny to you? Come on, take me home and make me forget that I just risked losing my job”

“I can’t wait, honey,” he puts his arm around your waist as he walks you to his car. 

Sure, you don’t know what’s going to happen and you don’t know if it’s worth it but you can’t wait to ride him on a bed and forget your name too.

general tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @pedrostories 🌹

[grison-in-space]

I'm sorry? Pigeons have to coo to ovulate?

okay, okay, I left this one out in the tags without elaborating the other day and you were not the only person who asked-- @nanavn and @corvus--caurinus were also curious. I did not have a ton of time yesterday when my brain was not leaking out my ears, so here I am today.

First, I apparently misremembered my grad school teachings: the best-documented case study of doves being required to hear their own coo in order to ovulate is that of the ring or Barbary dove (Streptopelia risoria), not the rock dove which gave rise to our domestic pigeons (Columba livia). They look like this:

They're the domestic doves you see sometimes that aren't domestic pigeons.

But yes, I was completely serious: hens need to very specifically hear their own nest coo to ovulate. The way it works is this: these doves have a very specific courtship pattern, where courting males at different stages of the nesting process perform first a "bow" coo, then a nest coo. Then the hen makes a nest coo back, and the pair goes on to build a nest together in which the hen will lay fertile eggs.

If you prevent the hen from producing this coo--and the first paper I've linked does this in several different ways with both neural lesions and also mechanical blocks of the synrinx--she will not ovulate. Then Dr. Cheng tried rescuing the effect for doves who could hear but not produce their own coos by playing back recordings of devocalized doves' own nest coos, recordings of other hen's nest coos, recordings of male nest coos (their own males, I think, for preference?) and no recordings at all. Hen nest coo recordings, especially the recordings of the hens themselves, were enough to rescue ovulation effect... but deafened hens who could, themselves produce nest coos weren't able to make ovulation happen half the time even when the male was right there. The male nest coo and his mating display is really important, because his coo stimulates the female to make her nest coo, and that's where ovulation starts.

In 2003, a little over a decade later, Dr. Cheng wrote a whole book chapter about auditory self-stimulation as a phenomenon in neuroendocrine shifts. It makes for pretty interesting reading! I'm going to really enjoy it this afternoon. Stimulated ovulation is actually a pretty common phenomenon in animals--often it makes more sense to only bother ovulating if you know there's a partner around to use whatever eggs you yield up--but this one is one of the most interesting and elaborate systems out there, and definitely the one that offers the most options to a given female dove to potentially consciously control her reproductive output.

But grison, you might ask, what about the doves outside my window? Is this just a function of this one dove species, or are lots of doves doing this to make ovulation happen? So I went looking to find out whether anyone has checked. The thing is that the heyday of pigeon behavioral research has faded somewhat in the intervening decades since Dr. Cheng's discovery, so there's not as much as I might hope where people sat down to investigate the question. I did, however, find a neat study on Columba livia demonstrating that auditory stimulation is more important to courtship displays and success than visual displays are, although of course the multisensory courtship is stronger than either sensory modality alone. So yeah, the cooing back and forth really loudly is part of a display that is functionally necessary for successfully producing offspring, and the auditory component is important for basically every pigeon that has been studied in this respect (albeit that number is pitifully small).

I also found this really interesting review of known uses of birdsong to set internal emotional states in birds (either for the self or for a partner or flockmates) that I want to look into with more detail, plus this really thoughtful review from Dr. Donna Maney talking about how "incentive salience" can use learning and experience to make certain cues bring up neuroendocrine changes in state over time, which helps individuals control how their endocrine system is reacting to stimuli in the world they've been shaped by. Clearly I have some reading to do...

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 3- Feral! Miguel x reader

       Was it weird to want to have sex with a version of Spiderman while you were a Spider-woman? The thought had popped itself several times as you stared at Miguel O'Hara. The leader of the Spider Society; the Spiderman of the future; and the man of your dreams. It was no lie that Miguel was good looking. He was no Peter Parker. Hell, he barely even seemed human at times. His fangs, his strength, his everything was just so...amazing.

        You on the other hand were just another Spider here. You had been working at the Spider Society for almost a year now. From time to time you have bumped into Miguel, but were given the cold shoulder. It was sad, but you had to admire the man from a distance. It seemed like no matter how close to tried to get to him, Miguel would push you away. What were you to do?

        A soft sigh escaped you lips as you sat upside down in the cafeteria. Not many people were at the Spider Society today. Apparently, it was the anniversary for Uncle Ben's death. Only a few Spiders were keeping themselves preoccupied while others went to console their Aunt May. You had your own story. Your own lost ones. You were not a Peter Parker variant of any kind. You were different and special, but apparently not special enough for Miguel to even pay you mind.

"Ugh, what do I have to do?" You whined softly before remembering something, "Ah, since almost everyone is out, maybe he needs help!"

        That lightbulb that appeared above your head was a blessing. You decided to grab an extra empanada from the cafeteria and made you way over to Miguel's large office. Hopefully he would be in a mood to talk today. You were even bringing him a peace offering!

-------------

        Miguel hovered above his desk, trying to catch his breathe. He was rutting bad. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Miguel tried to ease his pain by masturbating's, but it was of little help. He needed to be in someone. In you. A soft growl escaped his lips as he tried to picture you under him. How could he ever get close to you when all you ever did was smell so sweet. Miguel had to hold himself back from ravishing you every time you got near him.

        He wanted to fuck your brains out and plant a baby in you. Stroking his dick faster, Miguel tried to imagine your cries of pleasure. Your desperate moans for him to fill you. How dirty these thoughts were when he barely said a full sentence to you most days. The scent of your arousals every time he spoke to you was so tempting. 

"Hello? Miguel?" 

        Miguel halted immediately as something new drifted in the air. He sniffed towards your direction, eyes widening. Now was a horrible time for you to show up. You were ovulating and Miguel could smell it. 

"Is this a bad time?" The drop of your voice was cute.

"Mierda. (Fuck)" Miguel hissed before swinging before you, "You shouldn't have come here," He groaned, his large hands on your shoulders. Your heart skipped a beat,

"Sorry, I just wanted to see if you needed help," You admitted.

        You ignored the twisting feeling of your gut. Your spider senses were tingling, but you had an idea as to why. That look Miguel was giving you was making you wet. His hands moved up to your neck, tossing aside the container in your hand. Oh. You knew where this was going.

"I do need help," His voice was low and needy, "Te voy a follar tanto que no querrás volver a tu mundo. (I'm going to fuck you so much that you won't want to go back to your world.)"

        You inhaled deeply as your body turned to jelly. You understood that. Ohhhhhh, you understood that. Miguel inhaled deeply once more before crash his lips against yours. You did not have time to do anything before his talons ripped your suit. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, causing you to lose air. Miguel was making you dizzy from just his kisses.

        Miguel grabbed your hands as you tried to push his chest. You needed air. He webbed your hands to your back before ripping your panties off. Finally, you gasped. Miguel let you catch your breath as he grinded his hard erection against your cunt. Your heart rate had picked up as you listened to him groan and moan. This man whom you admired and dreamed of fucking, was making such sexy noises. To be fair, moans were coming out of your mouth from the friction he was giving you.

"Ya estás tan mojado para mí. Voy a llenarte. llenarte con mi semilla. (You're so wet for me already. I'm going to fill you up. Fill you up with my seed.)" He panted softly.

        You tried to get a word in, but Miguel had shoved his cock inside your folds. A loud gut wrenching moan escaped your lips as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion. He was so large. This was so sudden. Once more, you tried to say something, but Miguel pulled back and slammed himself inside you once more. Then again and again. His cock was bullying your pussy and you were loving every minute of it. He was making you wetter by the second.

        The gushing sounds your pussy made whenever he slammed his hips into yours were delicious. Miguel took your breast in his mouth, finally enjoying those moans he so desperately wanted to hear. Your tight walls sucking him more and more. Each orgasm he gave you, leaving him to want more. He was not going to stop. He needed to feel more.

"Di mi nombre. (Say my name.)" He demanded.

"Miguel! M-Miguel~" You repeated as he hit just the right spot.

        Miguel gripped your waist harshly, his talons threatening to pierce your skin. He brought his fangs to your neck, giving you a small bite. Yes, it would paralyze you, but that was what he wanted. Watching as your body arched for another orgasm, Miguel licked his lips. Your walls gushed around his cock, sucking him in for more. Complying, Miguel groaned as he filled you with his cum. A dark chuckle escaped his lips as he watched you pant for air.

        He laid you on your stomach, entering your throbbing hole once more. Your soft cries were music to his ears. You were begging him to give you a chance to relax, but why would he? Miguel was in heat and he finally got his cure. Pounding you harder than before, Miguel moaned softly as he felt himself twitch inside you. This was what he needed. What he wanted. To fill your womb with his seed. To impregnate you with his child.

"Ah~ Miguel~" You cried out. Miguel brought his fangs to your shoulder,

"No voy a parar pronto. No con lo bueno que estás siendo con mi polla. Tu dulce coño chupándome para obtener más semen. (I'm not stopping anytime soon. Not with how good you're being to my cock. Your sweet pussy sucking me for more of my cum.)" He whispered in your ear. You body shivered in delight,

"T-That's n-"

"I could smell how soaked your panties were every time you spoke to me. Do you know how hard it was to not fuck you each time?" Miguel threaten with a growl, shoving his cock deeper inside to fill you once more.

"Y-You could smell me?!" You squeaked in embarrassment.

        Miguel changed positions once more, placing you on his lap. He freed your hands, allowing you to wrap them around his neck. Miguel noticed that your legs were starting to grow numb. He wasn't sure if it was from his rough sex or the venom from his fangs.

"Si, mi amor. (Yes, my love) And right now, you came to me in heat while ovulating." 

You're burned up once you registered what he said. Realizing that he was determined to get you pregnant, you begged him to wait. Miguel ignored your adorable cries as he thrusted his hips upward. Despite your complaints, you obedienly bounced on his cock. You couldn't help but want to fuck him more. He was too good to stop.

Miguel licked his lips as he took your breasts in his mouth again. You tasted so sweet. Next time he was going to have to taste every part of your body. He had wanted to do it nice and slow, but you came onto him with your scent. Either way, Miguel was enjoying your body melting under his mouth. He watched as he brought out another orgasm from you. Your body laying against his from exhaustion.

"I never said we were done." Miguel smirked.

He laid your back against his desk once more, earning more cries and moans from you. Your body was being overstimulated. Miguel watched as you bit your lower lip, shaking in pleasure from him cumming inside you again. It was cute how you begged him to stop, but made such lewd faces when he filled you.

You on the other hand were so cock drunk to even think anymore. The only thing you can think about anymore was the feeling of Miguel's cock stuffing you full. You could feel your womb full of his cum, yet it still wasn' enough for him. You were seeing stars at this point as he kept bullying his cock into you.

"Hah, perfect fit. Your pussy was made for my cock," Miguel panted heavily, riding out another high. He brought you in for sloppy kiss, "Fuck, I can't wait to finally take you home. Fuck you everyday...hah, finally getting to taste you."

Miguel kept blabbering as he kept fucking you. He was enjoying this after months of denial. You were finally his and his alone.

------------

A soft groan escaped your lips as you finally started to come to. Your eyes fluttered opened. It took you a minute to adjust, but once you did, you noticed that you were in a bedroom. It wasn't yours. You attempted to get up, but your body was weak and sore.

"Morning, mi amor." Miguel said as he entered the room with a wet rag. You cooed softly as he placed the rag against your forehead,

"So it wasn't a wet dream," You muffle. Miguel resisted a chuckle, stroking your cheek,

"No."

"How long was I out?"

"..." Miguel furrowed his brows, "Two days," He told you, earning a shocked look.

"Two-Miguel!" Words were caught on your throat. Miguel stole a kiss from you, stroking your cheek,

"I had a small window. I made sure not a single second was wasted during your time." His smirk only grew, "But when you recover, I'm going to properly taste you."

"M-Miguel!"

The stamina this man had was going to make you lose your mind, but you loved it. Trying to hide your embarassment, you covered your face in the blanket.

"F-Fine, but go easy on me." You muttered. Miguel was taken back for a moment before hovering over you the next second,

"Guess I can't wait afterall. Thanks for the meal,"

[eff4freddie]

Date Night

aka the Sexorcism, an After She Left one-shot Words: 6k

Explicit - Minors DNI

It's been a few weeks since Jackson's second attempt at a prom, and even though you and Joel are finally together, it's hard to move past some of what it took to get there. But it's OK, because you've got an idea.

Warnings: Here be smut. PIV, no protection (don't do that and especially not in an apocalypse), praise kink, dirty talk, 69, nose riding, after all that angst finally we just get to watch these two fuck, it's been 84 years... A/N: I miss these two. And I'm ovulating. So y'know, time for a smutty little mini story I guess. You are welcome to read After She Left before this, but you don’t gotta to enjoy the smut.

You couldn’t understand how it was possible, to be so bone-tired that you weren’t sure how you were keeping your head on your shoulders, but so wired that you could barely keep your feet from tapdancing under your desk.

In front of you, the classroom sat quiet in the lazy afternoon sunlight, the half-hour of reading time you’d instituted after lunch giving you enough time to roll your shoulders and remember the heady days of abundant ibuprofen.

It was Joel’s fault you were so tired. He had a habit of keeping you up late, nestled into the crook of his neck on your couch as he told you what Tommy was like as a teenager, told you about how he was awkward and clumsy in high school, how he found he liked shop class because everyone had to wear ear muffs and he didn’t feel the need to be talkin’ all the damn time. Told you about Sarah, about her brilliance and her tinkly little laugh, the love for her radiating from him, warm enough to seep into your bones as you sat beside him. You loved your evenings on the couch with him, listening to the rain on the roof or watching the fire crackle, reading by the lamplight and ignoring when he snored, lightly, beside you. You wanted so many more of those nights, all of those nights you could get.

It was Joel’s fault you couldn’t sit still. Borne out of some kind of Southern manners, whatever was left of them after the end of the world, he’d apparently taken a vow of chastity since that first morning in that random bedroom in the town out to the West, your gasping need for him so acute after Shauna’s betrayal, after nearly losing Ellie, after waking in Joel’s arms. You weren’t sure what was driving it, his sudden reluctance, but it felt clawing and cold, something grasping at his belly from beneath the ground. A new kind of virus that fed on doubt and unfinished sentences.

Two nights ago, restless and unable to settle on the couch beside him even after he tucked the blanket over your bodies and read to you from some paperback Tommy had found on patrol months and months ago, you had felt the words clawing their way up your throat, bilious and corrosive, crafty enough to slide between the gaps in your teeth.

‘What is this, Joel?’ you asked him, your voice louder than you realised in the quiet of your living room. He paused, his whole body going still. You waited for him to turn to you, growing impatient when he stared, resolute, at the page in front of him.

‘Be more specific, baby,’ he said, after a beat or two, and you swallowed, adrenaline pumping hard enough to keep you on a roll.

‘You kiss me, and we cuddle on the couch, and you told me you loved me the night of the Prom, but then since then it’s been…I mean, I don’t know how long since then-’

‘-six weeks and four days,’ he interrupted, and you paused just long enough to allow your surprise to register. He had been counting? Was that a good thing, or a very bad one?

‘…Right,’ you went on, ‘it’s been that long, and you haven’t…we haven’t…’

He sighed, putting the book down, and you thought for a moment of a disapproving principal discovering his favourite student accused of passing notes in the back row, of an exhausted and disappointed father looking at the clock as his recalcitrant teen snuck in an hour after a curfew, of a surly and disapproving boyfriend strung out by his girl’s hysterics. You felt the jolt of anger behind your sternum. First he was counting and now he was sighing at you? Who the fuck did this overgrown apocalyptic cowboy think he was?

‘M’house is so quiet,’ he said, looking down at his lap to avoid looking back at you. He knew, of course he knew, that he’d let it go on too long. That he’d promised on the steps of the mess hall to talk to you, to communicate more, and that he’d told himself that’s what he was doing when he kept you up all night yapping, in the hope that you’d get too sleepy to turn him out. He wasn’t sure how to explain himself, wasn’t accustomed to this level of intimacy, and it had been easier, so much easier, to tuck you up warm and safe on your couch and read t’ya then to ever have to speak out the truth.

‘What do you mean?’ you said, trying to keep your tone even as you felt a pinprick of fear pierce the comforting self-righteousness you had been wrapping yourself in.

‘When I’m over there, it’s just me…’ he went on, quiet, muscles drawn tight into stillness. ‘Swear sometimes I can hear the wood rottin’ in the floors it’s that quiet.’

You swallowed, your stomach sinking. Ellie had been with you now for nearly three months, and she had brought into the house chaos and warmth and terrible baking, endless sketches spread out over the kitchen table, a feeling that the place was as much hers as it was yours now, that it was for the both of you.

‘S’not just that,’ he went on, his brows saddled. ‘She was there…slept in my bed.’ At this he paused and turned to you, panic on his face. ‘I was always on the couch,’ he clarified, and you nodded at him.

‘I know you were,’ you assured.

‘Just like it over here, is all,’ he shrugged. ‘S’warm over here, and it’s got my girls in it.’

‘But then, why…?’ you asked, not able to form the words ‘haven’t you taken me up the stairs and ravished me three ways from Sunday’, letting the gentle implication rest, instead.

‘Because Ellie’s here,’ he said, simply. ‘I mean, I know she’s not always here, sometimes she’s out at Dina’s, or she’s at the movies with her friends. I know that.’

‘You worried Ellie’ll come home and see you nose deep between my thighs on the carpet?’ you asked, smiling, trying to lighten the mood and it worked a little, Joel letting out a pleased huff.

‘If that’s all I’m doin’ to ya she’d be lucky,’ he said, and you felt the blooming heat on your cheeks. ‘It don’t feel right comin’ in here and…sullying the place, I guess. Know I’m a visitor here, know that this is a special place for you girls.’

You considered this for a moment. He still didn’t feel home here, you realised. He was keeping a safe distance, a respectful distance, a visitor to his not-daughter and his girl.

‘We want you here, Joel,’ you said, and he hummed in a kind of acknowledgement.

‘This is her space, she carved it all for herself, and I can’t be…too much in it,’ he said, after a while. You could see this was hard on him, talking about it just as much as thinking about it. You nodded your head.

‘What about if we went to yours?’ you asked, and he sighed. You hadn’t been there since Shauna ruined your cake, since Ellie had moved over to yours, since you and Joel had finally found your way to be together. He worried, even if he would never find the words to really explain it, to you and also to himself, that the memories of all that hurt would carry themselves on the tiny motes of dust, catch in your lungs and poison you of him, infect this fragile little thing he and you were nursin’ between his outstretched hands.

‘Can’t put you out,’ he muttered.

‘I’ll give you a few days to clean the place up,’ you said, definitive. ‘I want that place spotless so we can get in there and defile the shit out of it.’

He barked, a kind of surprised but joyful exhalation. He fuckin’ loved you, even if you did boss him around.

--

You considered it a sexorcism, of sorts. Joel was right, you realised. Shauna had been hanging over the two of you ever since you were almost and then not quite and then finally some kind of together. You had wanted to throw caution to the wind, had wanted to be the kind of person that didn’t care about getting hurt, that walked the plank with her eyes open, but that wasn’t the world you lived in anymore. That wasn’t what kept people alive twenty years.

So, you’d hung back, maybe let him keep you safe and warm on your couch, maybe terrified to puncture something gentle and ill-formed, let the comfort of it wrap itself around you until it started squeezing the air from your lungs.

You called the end of the school day early, completely unable to concentrate on Mika’s book report when the book he was reporting on was another comic from 2001, and not a single child under your tutelage had complained about leaving after lunch. It was a Friday, and that meant it was movie night in town so all the kids would be heading there after dinner, and you wanted to go home and shower, smear some powder made of ground up rose petals and talc on your cheeks, try and find a pair of underwear with the elastic still intact.

You wanted to work Shauna out of your system, while comprehensively working Joel in. Your hands had been tremoring all day. You felt like you were fourteen, like this was the first date of your life, like a virgin on her wedding night. You felt like an idiot. You felt like your skin was a size too small. You felt, not for the first time, head over heels for this man.

The sun was setting as you made your way over to his place, watching most of the town gather at the mess hall as you slipped behind side fences and onto Joel’s front porch. You’d barely stepped a foot on the first step before he was pulling the door open, what you had come to think of his best green flannel tight over his biceps. You stepped forward, a shy little grin on your face as you noticed he had slicked his hair back, freshly showered and smelling faintly of pine even from this many paces away. You felt the blush creep up your cheeks as he turned the full intensity of his gaze to you.

‘Hey,’ he said, stepping forward and extending a hand to you. You’d barely laid your palm in his before he was caging your fingers, gripping you and tugging you into him, his other hand falling to the small of your back as he pulled you backwards into the house, chest to chest, nose to nose. ‘Longest fuckin’ afternoon of m’fuckin’ life,’ he said, and you managed to squeeze out a giggle before he was on you, his lips hot and hungry, his hand reaching up to cradle your jaw as he opened it.

You might have gasped a little. You’d kissed him before, of course you had, but there was something in it now, something urgent and anticipatory, that had both of your pulses racing under your skin. You felt the scruff of his whiskers against your cheek as he nuzzled at you, your hands settling on his waist and pulling him closer to you, like you could climb him, like you could open his chest and settle yourself there against his sternum.

‘Fuck,’ you whispered, an understatement. He exhaled through his nose, pulling up long enough to gaze down at you, holding your face gentle and strong in his paw.

‘Wanted this for so long,’ he muttered. ‘Been so stupid makin’ us wait for it.’

‘Sssh,’ you whispered, reaching up to cup your hand over his mouth. His brows raised in surprise but he stood still, letting you muzzle him. ‘No more of that,’ you instructed, and he nodded slightly under your hand. ‘Y’got me now, Big Bad Joel Miller,’ you reminded him, and you watched as something dark, something sinful, sparked behind his eyes.

He gently pulled your hand away. ‘She wet for me, baby?’ he asked, and you shivered, spellbound by the sin of it, by the promise. All you could do was nod, watching as his eyes drifted closed, as he let out a quiet moan. You reached down, your fingers ghosting over the fly of his jeans, to feel the bulge of his cock, the straining flesh just under the denim.

‘Want you, want this,’ you whimpered, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as you gazed up at him. He grinned.

‘C’mere,’ he grunted, lifting you wholly over his shoulder and making your shriek, your laughter catching in your belly as he gripped the back of your thighs.

‘Joel!’ you squealed, struggling against him as he held you fast, pivoting you both towards the stairs.

‘Quit wriggling,’ he grinned, lifting a hand to gently swat at your bottom, chuckling as you gasped. ‘Oh, you don’t mind it when I’m mean t’ya,’ he observed, his chest swelling in pride, as you hung over his shoulder.

‘Shurturrrp’ you gritted out, your world upside down as you watched the stairs fall away behind you. He chuckled again.

In his bedroom he set you right, surprisingly gentle, at the foot of the bed.

‘Arms up,’ he instructed and you found them raising above your head unbidden, barely a thought having passed before they acted of their own accord. He pulled up your shirt, the fabric clinging to you where you had started to sweat, and you wondered why you’d bothered agonising over the decision as to what to wear when he was going to peel your clothes right off you the moment he could. Down to your bra you watched as his eyes lit up, roaming over your chest as he lifted his hands to your shoulder blades and brought you closer to him.

‘God damnit,’ he muttered, ducking low to come eye-level to your tits. ‘So pretty, baby,’ he praised, reaching over with one hand to cup the swell of your breast, his thumb rolling the nipple over the cotton. The simple movement sent lightning bolts of clawing pleasure through to your cunt, your tremulous pulse thrumming between your thighs. Impatient, you reached down and lifted the flesh from your bra, watching his eyes glaze over as he observed them drop.

‘Fuck,’ he whispered, as you reached out to thread your hands through his curls, to steady yourself and to feel him, to draw him to you, to bring his mouth to your nipple, feeding him your tit like a dying man on a desert island.

‘Jesus…’ you whispered as he sucked, swirling the tightening little bud beneath his tongue. You had felt what it could do to your cunt that one night on the couch months and months ago, had thought about it in the quiet moments, in the dark moments, between wakefulness and sleep. You gripped his hair in your fingers as he whimpered a little, a happily little grunt forming in the back of his throat.

You were going to be the death of him. Perfect tits in his face, warm and soft skin under his tongue. From here, even through your little skirt, that he was sure had at one time belonged to Maria, he could smell your arousal, longed to reach out and gather your slick between his fingers, lick them clean of you just to get them dirty in your cunt all over again.

He could feel his cock, hard and urgent against the zip of his jeans, and if he hadn’t been so hellbent on wringing the pleasure from you he would have shucked off the denim and taken care of himself right then and there. Breath ragged, he instead steadied himself, closing his eyes to imprint the taste of your skin on his tongue, as he unlatched.

He kissed you again, your head cradled in his hand as he stepped you towards the bed, the back of your knees butting up against the mattress. He wanted to do this right, had been thinking about it for weeks, for months. The first time he was with you he knew he had used you for his own comfort, trying to embed your warmth inside himself so he could take it with him on cold mornings. The second time it had been to ground you, to push back the grasping dark. Tonight, it would finally be just to love you. To feast on your body, to pull the moans from your throat and the breath from your lungs. To undo you, to let you undo him in kind.

He felt your little hands scratching as his belt, huffed out a little laugh as you unbuckled him, a look of concentration setting lines into your brow.

‘Easy, baby,’ he whispered low, reaching down to hold your hand in his. ‘We got all night.’

‘Waited forever,’ you muttered, frustrated. ‘Please, Joel, want you in my mouth.’

He groaned, momentarily frozen, as his cock registered what you’d said before his brain did. ‘Can’t say shit like that t’me, sweet girl,’ he warned you, as you reached up to him, pulling his mouth back onto yours to silence him.

‘Please, baby,’ you whimpered against his lips, resting your hand on his neck where you could feel his racing pulse. He nodded, just enough that your hands were again at his belt, your fingers easing down his fly and reaching in to grip him, watching his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as his breath stuttered.

You knew he was big, but it still surprised you, the true weight of it. You slipped it from his underwear, pulling it clear of the waistband to rest in your palm.

‘Wait,’ he muttered, and you stilled, watching him compose himself under furrowed brows. You grinned up at him, thrilled by the power you had over him in this moment, watching as his hands shook. Then he rolled, hooking his legs under your knees until you were on your side and he was up again, back on his feet as he reached out and pushed your skirt up over your waist.

‘No, Joel I…’ you started, but stopped when a thick finger traced its way over the folds of your underwear, already soaking the cotton.

‘Smell so sweet,’ he said, almost to himself, before addressing you properly. ‘You really think you could make me wait for her?’ You could only moan in response as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband, the callused skin of his fingertip meeting your aching, welcoming folds.

With his other hand he shucked his jeans over his hips, pushing them down until they gathered at his feet, his underwear going with them. You gazed, heavy lidded, as he crouched over you, pulsing cock hanging heavy between his legs. Not for the first time you considered that he resembled a roman warrior, carved out of marble, when this was all over considered crowning him in laurels for the sight of his abs alone.

‘Stay there,’ he instructed, slipping his fingers from your folds despite your protests and going instead to stand behind your head. He pulled you towards him by the shoulders, until your head was dangling over the bed, his cock now jutting out just in front of your nose as you hung between his thighs. It was obscene and you loved it, tracing back the veins on the underside of his cock to the thicket of his wiry hair, mapping it first with your eyes, and later, your tongue.

You opened your mouth.

Joel gasped, the sight of you prone beneath him, little pink tongue pillowing out of your mouth to accept him, your cunt scenting the air around you with your arousal as you reached to his thighs to bring him to you. He groaned, taking a step or two forward, resting his knees on the edge of the bed as he lowered himself to your glistening lips, your neck straining towards him. Gentle, so gentle with your pretty throat, he slipped the head past your lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt you stretch your jaw to accommodate him.

You groaned around him, his cock only just slipping past your tongue, feeling the saliva pool at the side of your mouth as you welcomed him. You let your eyes slip closed, feeling him pulse on your tongue as your head bobbed over the side of the bed to take him in, startling a little when you felt his hands reach out again to cup your tits, still sitting over the cups of your bra. What a sight you must have been, you mused, tits out and skirt shucked up over your hips like a whore, swivelling and writhing on top of the bed in the hope for some kind of stimulation over your aching, pulsing cunt.

‘So good, baby,’ Joel groaned above you and you felt more slick pooling between your thighs, his fingers again tweaking your nipples as he manhandled you from above. You relaxed your jaw, concentrating on breathing through your nose and letting your pulse lessen, feeling your muscles go slack as he worked himself further into your throat.

Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching as his cock bulged in your windpipe, distending the flesh. You groaned, gulping down on him, swallowing around his pulsing flesh and making him count backwards from a thousand so as not to end it right there and then. You were sinful like this, eyes watering from the stretch, grasping at his thighs and pulling him closer, forward, moaning.

‘Oh, my sweet filthy girl, so good t’me,’ he praised, as he knelt over you, bending at the waist to slide his hands down your body and again cup your cunt. You jolted, a shuddering little sigh leaving you as you felt his fingers press again at your lips. ‘Lose these,’ he said, ripping the fabric of your underwear from you and pulling your knees up, planting your feet on the blankets beneath you. You felt even more exposed to the room, dripping now onto the bedspread, and you felt yourself fluttering, your cunt pulsing against nothing, the libidinousness strangely freeing as you released Joel’s cock from your throat just to lift your head and suck one his balls into your wet heat.

‘Ha!’ Joel gasped above you, watching as his glistening cock sat fat and heavy along your nose, your eyes still shut tight as you slurped happily on his ball. Your other hand reached up to weigh and tease the other, the combined sensation sending shockwaves down his shaft. He forced himself to breathe, taking loud and slow inhales and exhales through his nose, sliding a fat finger into your cunt to both reward and punish you for your trickery.

You groaned, the heel of his palm resting heavy on your clit as he pistoned his finger in and out of your slick. Careful not to jostle you, he shifted his weight forward, coming up on his knees on the edge of the mattress and leaning, moving his hands to plant beside your hips. You gasped as you realised what he was doing, rolling your hips to angle yourself towards him, feeling the lips of your cunt unfurl under his hungry gaze.

‘God, she’s so perfect,’ you heard him groan, settling down on his elbows and dipping his head between your thighs. ‘Prettiest cunt I ever saw.’ You pulled your mouth from him just long enough to gasp ‘all yours, all for you Joel’ before he descended, fastening his lips to your tight little bud as his nose parted your folds beneath it. You writhed, all thoughts evaporating from your mind, as you felt your hips grind into his face.

‘Fuck, oh my god Joel!’ you rambled, the weight of his body pressing down against you as his cock bobbed just at the end of your nose. He didn’t respond, not with words, deciding instead to pull your clit between his teeth. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, your hands grasping at his thighs, your mouth opening just enough to rub the underside of his cock against your tongue. He shuddered and you did it again, licking a stripe along his flesh before you lifted your head and angled the head of his drooling, heavy cock between your lips again.

This was war. This was a race. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of winning, of making you come, before he’d shot his load down your throat. In response to your renewed determination Joel shuddered, a long, low moan reverberating along your tortured bundle of nerves as he pushed his nose deeper into your core, wiggling it there. Your scent surrounded him, your scorching folds opening beneath his ministrations, and combined with the shocks of pleasure you were wringing from him he had to remind himself to breathe. He couldn’t think straight, saw stars fizzing behind his eyelids, felt the headiness of your slick, the scent of you surrounding him, drawing him in deeper, down further, your pretty little mouth torturing him while you drowned him with your cunt. ‘This is what those sailors crashed their ships into the rocks for,’ he suddenly realised, the only vaguely cogent thought he could muster.

You tried to lie still, tried to hold back the pleasure building at the base of your spine, but you were writhing, riding the bridge of Joel’s nose as he pushed it further inside you, clit caught between his lips as he suckled. He wasn’t playing fair, you complained in your head. How could you concentrate on beating him when he was trying to suck your soul out through your cunt? You tasted salt on your tongue, opening your eyes to watch his hips stutter, his whimpering little moans coming more frequently now as his cock started to dribble. Again, you reached up to cradle his balls, your jaw aching, saliva dripping past your chin, as you felt his shaft pulse with his need.

You couldn’t last much longer. You wanted it to go on forever.

You desperately, urgently needed to come.

Joel raised his head, rutting against you as he fisted the blankets.

‘Baby, you gotta…won’t last if you…’ he stuttered but you ignored him, doubling your efforts despite the way your head had started to swim. He gasped, pistoning his hips into your mouth by pure instinct, curses flowing from his mouth as he gazed down at your dripping folds.

‘Yeww furrsht’ you grunted, bobbing your head against the edge of the mattress in time to his thrusts. You felt him laugh, his belly and his chest shuddering, as he gently, heavily, lifted himself back up on his knees.

‘Ok baby, you win,’ he said in mock surrender, crawling onto the mattress beside you as you caught your breath. You ignored the way the room swam, slightly grey at the edges. A victory was a victory, after all.

‘Jesus Christ, all this time we been dancing around each other you had that mouth on ya?’ he sighed, shaking his head. ‘I’m a damn fool.’

You grinned, reaching up to wipe your chin and massaging some of the ache from your jaw.

‘Enough of that,’ you said, reaching out to rest your hand on his bicep as he gazed down at you, warmth in his eyes.

‘Didn’t wanna come like that, baby,’ he whispered, reaching out to push your hair behind your ear, trailing his hand along your jawline to fall, delicate and heavy all the same, atop your chest. ‘Not ‘til I’m deep inside ya.’

You shivered, the heat of his words amplified by the sincerity of them, by the gentle filth he was whispering with reverence. You ached, now, a kind of cavernous feeling settling inside you as your cunt fluttered. You let your eyes drift down, to his throbbing cock resting heavy on the blankets beneath him, the tip leaking and an angry red.

‘Please,’ you whispered, gazing up at him again as he ran a fingertip down your belly to nestle, warm and safe, inside your core.

‘Ok, baby,’ he whispered back, shifting his weight to position himself, lifting your legs by the knee to cradle his hips between them.

He notched himself at your entrance. You felt yourself go soft, didn’t realise you were holding your breath. ‘Love you, my sweet girl,’ he said, bringing his lips down to yours so he could catch them between his teeth as he pushed inside you. You moaned, the hot sound of your pleasure ricocheting around inside his mouth, as you lifted your hips to welcome him in.

‘Doin’ so good,’ he praised, reaching down with one hand to rub gentle circles on your clit. ‘I got you, baby. Let me make you feel good.’

You nodded, your eyes falling shut at the stretch, the sting in the core of you giving away to a pulsing kind of pleasure, a destruction and a remaking.

‘Oh, God…’ you whimpered, as he nudged his nose to yours, smelling your arousal on his skin as he dipped his head lower again to kiss you. Again, he pried you open, held you fast with his lips and with his cock, as you let him consume you all the way down to your last atom.

He was everywhere, his weight and his heat surrounding you, so overwhelming, so encompassing, that you felt tears gather at your cheeks. You shifted, lifting your head away and up to the crook of his neck, sinking your teeth into his skin to nibble on him, to take some part of him into yourself, to let the primal take over, in your writhing hips, in your gnashing jaws.

Joel groaned, the feel of your bite driving his hips further, reaching down to hitch your leg over his hip, sawing in and out of your swollen, dripping cunt, feeling your walls flutter as your hands clawed at his back.

‘That’s it, sweet girl,’ he encouraged, as he felt you piston your hips to meet his. ‘Work me into that sweet little cunt.’

You whined, the pleasure of it overwhelming you, releasing his skin from your mouth just to arch your head back, extend your neck and suck in lungfuls of air just to bellow them out as he brought you, overwrought, to the very edge. You could feel your cunt clamping down on him, could feel your slick gathering beneath you, sodden, on the blankets. Could hear your cries of pleasure as if from a distance, could barely recognise them as your own.

He was going to end you. You were going to let him.

‘Want your come in me,’ you rambled, pausing just long enough to take in Joel’s moan. ‘Want to drip you until tomorrow, go off to the mess hall with your come running down my thighs.’

‘Fuck,’ Joel exclaimed, wondering exactly what kind of hell beast his cock had unleashed, and if he should warn the other residents of Jackson. He fucking adored you, and your filthy mouth, and in that moment all he could think of was filling your sweet little pussy to the brim, lashing you to the bedpost and not leaving you until you were dripping him. Keeping you tethered and fed and leaking him, barefoot in his kitchen ready to hitch your skirt over your thighs and swallow his heaving cock into your scorching little cunt.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy, his hips stuttering as he gasped, resting his lips on your forehead as he whispered filth you could barely make out into your skin. You could feel your cunt tightening, your stomach muscles curling up to pull your hips further towards him, your shoulders tight as you gripped the blankets beneath you. You could feel it, the winding of the spring.

‘Oh, can feel her grippin’ me,’ Joel mumbled, ‘she gettin’ ready to explode, sweet girl?’ he asked, and you could only nod, eyes shut tight trying to hold back the pleasure.

‘Good girl,’ he groaned and you shuddered, lighting shooting through your core at his casual but devastating praise. ‘Come for me, sweet girl, let me have it,’ he grit out, shifting his weight to rest on one elbow and run his hands down to rub again at your straining clit. You gasped, the air knocked from your lungs by the sudden pleasure of it, and you felt your jaw lock as you clamped down on the feeling.

‘Joel, you’re gonna make me…’ you started but found yourself entirely unable to finish the sentence, the tremors racing up your sides and rendering you speechless.

‘Do it, baby. Gonna paint this sweet little cunt full’a me,’ he promised, and you felt it, then, the point of no return.

‘Joel!’ you exclaimed, eyes wide and searching his as he rolled his hips, holding you steady in his gaze as you came apart around him, fucking you through it as you writhed, his own release chasing soon after as he felt you fluttering walls grip him, milk him, releasing deep into your cunt molten and scorching, his pleasure and his love.

--

On aching legs, you ambled your way out of the bedroom, the morning sun just spreading itself over the mountains, casting the halls in a golden glow. Joel’s snores drifted down the stairs as you went, following you into the kitchen and embedding themselves deep into the tattered lace of the curtains. You knew Joel had some coffee, he’d bragged about Tommy bringing some back for him on patrol, and even if it was twenty years old you still felt the man had earned it, your cunt still pulsing from his ministrations the night before.

While you waited for the water to boil you stood, leaning your hip into the counter. But for the snoring the house was quiet, but it was a calm kind, a peaceful kind. You looked over at the kitchen table, to where you and Ellie had first met after school for her tutoring lessons, to where Joel would bring you both dinner in what you had initially thought was some kind of paternal gesture and what you now realised was a ploy to make sure you didn’t leave.

You glanced over to the couch, resolving to bring over some blankets from your place such that Joel could tuck you up in them over here, too.

You poured out a coffee, knowing without having to ask that Joel would take it black. The air felt livelier, somehow, the promise of something riding alongside the dust motes.  As you moved through the quiet, your footsteps back up the stairs barely left an echo.

Tags

@harriedandharassed

@vickie5446

@kaseyconnour

@orcasoul

@missladym1981

@spacesoutdaydreamer

@tangled-tumbler-blog-blog

@fancyyoouu

@anoverwhelmingdin

@millersamour

@delicatetrashtree

@wand-erer5

@somedayheaven

@maryrhodalouandted

@casssiopeia

@atorturedpoetatmidnight

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh

Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)

Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG

Word count: 3.7 k

Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.

A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕

"I'm tired of using those things."

Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 

You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.

You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.

And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 

Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?

"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.

"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.

You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean…?"

The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.

"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"

Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.

"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 

"They are." 

The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 

And Simon never said he didn't want children.

It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 

He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.

Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…

It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 

And it did. It more than just did.

He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.

Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.

You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 

It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.

But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.

He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 

That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 

Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 

But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.

Until this night…

This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 

You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.

And this time, he won't even let you play.

"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 

As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 

He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 

Serves the damn thing right…

You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.

You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.

The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.

His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.

And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.

You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.

The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.

"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.

"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.

You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 

He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 

You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 

"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 

"Hell yeah."

The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 

You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.

A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.

His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.

And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 

His little helper, indeed…

"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"

His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.

He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…

"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."

He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.

"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."

Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.

"I'll manage," you whisper.

"I know you will."

The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.

He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.

"Wait–"

"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.

"The–the boys?"

He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 

Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?

"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."

This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.

"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.

"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."

The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 

"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"

He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.

"Right back at ya, darling."

"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.

"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 

"Love… fuckin' hell."

He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 

But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.

"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."

Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 

The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.

A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.

"Luv. You trust me?"

You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 

"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.

Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.

"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"

"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."

He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.

Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 

You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.

"Faster, Simon, please…" 

"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "

And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 

"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.

"Yes–give it to me, please–"

Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…

You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 

Simon–fuck…

There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 

Fuck–!

…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.

"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 

He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.

And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 

It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.

If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.

He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.

"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.

"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."

He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.

"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."

His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.

"Got a fair point there, love."

Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.

"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.

"That was the best."

He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.

"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."

"You think that did it..?"

He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.

"No half-assing with my sweetheart."

One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.

"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.

"I wouldn't say no to that."

You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.

And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."

Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.

And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"

After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...

There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.

"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.

"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.

"What if ice cream won't help?"

"I'll bring you chocolate."

You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 

"You're really not afraid…?"

"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."

"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."

"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.

"Simon... What made you change your mind?"

He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.

"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."

You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.

"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.

"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.

"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.

"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."

He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 

There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.

[dipperscavern]

dippy I'm in absolute need of more father!cregan🙏🙏 I'm ovulating and I can't stop thinking about giving him a whole litter of pups babies that hang from his arms like monkeys😞 + he'd be sooo doting ughh I'm unwell

ykw you’re so real cause i’m always in need of father cregan.

you already have two pups & are pregnant with your third, and even worse, you’d give him as many as he asks for :( cause he’s so dad. watching him teach your two boys how to shoot a bow an arrow, correcting their form as they focus on their target. your other boy, waiting for cregans instruction, smiling n waving when he sees you watching. you have a hand on your stomach, and wave back with a smile of your own (your boys adore you and cregan)

and your boys tell you alllll about it during supper. recounting with big grins on their faces how they almost got the center twice, and didn’t miss once. apparently, they almost killed a rabbit — & they give all credit to their teacher.

n cregan tells you about how it really went after you tuck your boys in for bed, and you’re readying yourself for sleep. how a rabbit scampered by and scared one so bad he yelped and dropped his bow entirely. but even so, they didn’t do terribly. one has lots of natural talent, and cregan even thinks he could make a fine archer one day :( <3