#It was written on their wrists in stars

[boycritter]

thinking about all the tattoos im gonna get....

[midwesternfields]

BOOK REVIEW 📖

Last year I kept track of the series & films I watched; this year I've decided to keep track of whatever books I read! So this one is for the month of January – I'll share these sometime after the month is over, or if I read more than one book during the month, I will do their reviews as soon as I finish the book :)

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Prologue

Pandora lives in a little cottage in the forest. Even though she’s young, she knows the trees and ferns, the mushrooms and flowers. Who needs mundane playthings when you have four entire acres of wilderness to keep you entertained? 

Her mother is an artist, and steady hands run in the family. Pandora spends her evenings carefully painting a dollhouse model of the cottage that her father had crafted for her in his little workshop shed outside.

All in all, it’s a peaceful existence, and things are very predictable. Mother is in the studio solarium room, fingers covered in inks and colorful spots. Father is crafting something in his shed, fixing up the house as he engages in an endless war against the elements of the forest. 

Pandora flutters around, checking in on her parents, and exploring the immediate grounds around the cottage. Today, she’s following a particularly beautiful butterfly as it glides amongst the trees down by the pond. She’s so enamored with the pretty wings, that she almost doesn’t notice the fairy ring. 

A circle of mushrooms, one she’s scouted out before, is along the bank of the murky water. Pandora has heard tales of fairies and pixies, and has been warned not to enter circles like this. She sidesteps the ring, and that’s when she notices something out of place, something that hadn’t been there yesterday.

Just outside of the little circle, is a small creature. At first glance, the glossy wings look butterfly-like, but Pandora has never seen sage green wings like these on a bug. The small child pauses, hiking up her dress and kneeling down to get a better look.

Definitely not a butterfly. Where an insect would have a thorax at the joining of wings, this creature has a tiny little man. Well, he’s bigger than a butterfly would be, but it’s clear to the young girl that she’s looking at a fairy, and as she inspects him further, she notices one of his wings is torn.

Pandora has mended butterfly wings with her father before- she knows what to do, but she’s hesitant. Should she help this small fairy, as she’s helped many bugs before him? Is he simply resting and not in immediate danger?

She looks around, noting any predators in the surrounding area. A large bird circles overhead, and Pandora decides she has to act. Reaching for a leaf, she scoops the tiny fairy's body into the greenery, carefully carrying him back toward the cottage.

As she gets there, she sees her father getting into his work truck to head to town, and Pandora knows better than to stop him. She also knows better than to go interrupt her mother, who is on a deadline for a piece and has asked not to be disturbed.

No, Pandora will have to do this rescue mission herself, and she heads into her father’s workshop to find the glue.

She does her best to be gentle, even with her pudgy fingers, as she mends the torn wing. When she’s done, Pandora finds one of the many small boxes her father has made. It’s a cedar box, with a small, iron latch.

Leaving the fairy, she goes outside, collecting a little nest of moss to put into the box.

When everything is finished, she sets the fairy into the box, carefully closing it and latching it shut. He needs some rest, and as far as the small child is concerned, he’s safer in her little box than lying in the grass where big predators might hurt him.

One:

“I’m sure it’s no surprise that your grandmother left you the cottage,” the lawyer in charge of the estate tells you as he looks over the papers on his desk. “As you are the only artist in the family, Pandora wrote that she hopes the solace will inspire, as it had inspired her, and her mother before her.”

You nod solemnly. It’s a monumental gift, one your cousins would kill you for- but alas, you’d spent the most time with your grandmother in her later days, and the solarium studio is already set up as your own. To be young, and a homeowner now- this had never been your intention in spending time with her, but perhaps it’s a happy outcome, given the dire situation of her passing.

“She also wanted me to tell you, that you can finally open the box.” The lawyer looks at you expectantly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you know what she was referring to?”

“Yes,” you respond. “She’d kept this small cedar box. Her father had made it for her when she was a child. It’s on her nightstand, but she’s never opened it.”

“Well, that’s… interesting.”

“Yeah, Pandora’s Box, I know the story,” you let out a sad chuckle. “Part of me doesn’t want to open it, she always told me not to, I guess I made it this big bad thing in my head as a kid.”

“I’m sure it’s just jewelry or something of the sort,” the lawyer assures you, and you remind yourself that men of the law are never the superstitious type.

Two:

You’re a few glasses deep into your bottle of wine, and you find yourself looking at your grandmother’s small cedar box. Curiosity is getting the better of you, and liquid courage is doing wonders to calm your superstitions. 

There can’t be anything dangerous in the box, or your grandma wouldn’t have left it for you… right?

Taking a breath, you approach the box. It’s sitting on your dining room table, you’d gingerly carried it from the bedroom earlier, with the intention of opening it, and now, you will. 

You sit, staring at it for a few moments. Your hands shake when you reach for it, but you push away your anxiety. The iron latch is old and worn, but it clicks open after a bit of work. Taking another deep breath, you lift the cedar lid. 

Nothing happens, no surge of dark spirits releasing the worst of humanity, no hurricane or pestilence-

You lean forward, looking into the box, and you’re shocked by what you find there.

Half buried in a nest of mossy greens that looked like they were only picked hours ago, is a small winged man. It’s a fairy, you realize, with glossy wings-

He stirs a little, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

How could this be? Ignoring the moss that’s apparently been preserved for over seventy years, how is this tiny creature still alive after being shut away for a lifetime?

Part of you wants to close the box, to forget about it- but then the tiny man’s eyes open, and he stares up at you. You freeze immediately, as if paralyzed, your mind going blank in the face of the supernatural.

The fairy rubs his eyes, sitting up amongst the bed of moss. His hair is all messy, but in a way that’s kind of adorable. He gazes up at you, and then, he speaks. “Hello?”

“Hi?” It comes out a question, and you’re unsure how to proceed, so you say nothing else.

“Sorry, this is embarrassing,” he laughs, and you note the way his skin has turned pink. “Did you save me?”

“As horrible as this sounds, I uh… inherited you?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” the tiny man muses. “I remember being attacked by a large bird in my realm, my wing was damaged, I made my way to a fairy ring to come to your world and recuperate, but I must have passed out.”

You consider his words for a moment. “My grandma used to fix butterfly wings, is it possible she found you and fixed yours?”

The fairy extends one of his sage appendages, inspecting it. “It definitely looks repaired… Your grandma, you said?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I was told she’d had this box since she was a girl… have you been in here for a long time?”

“I was in hibernation, the dark and the moss- it was healing, I awoke because of the light.”

“So you have been in there for years,” you conclude, shocked. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“How many years is ‘years?’ You humans have a different view of time than I do.”

“Probably seventy or eighty?” you suggest.

“It didn’t feel like that long.” He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking, then he looks up at you again. “How long have you had me?”

“I uh…” you swallow thickly at the question. “Well, I just inherited the cottage, and my grandma left the box to me in her will too… so, only two days.”

He nods, looking down, continuing to think hard about whatever it is that fairies ponder deeply on. 

“How… how do you feel?”

“Well rested,” he smiles, breaking the look of deep concentration. “I’m ready to get back to tinkering.”

Tinkering… that definitely sounds like a fairy word, and you don’t question him further. 

“Please don’t let me stop you from getting back to your home,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience of my grandmother keeping you in this box all this time.”

“It’s alright,” he yawns again, then pushes himself up from the moss. He’s dressed in a little green fairy outfit, and you do your best to commit him to your memory. His wings are truly beautiful, the way they shimmer even in the electric light of your kitchen. “I remember a pond.”

“Yes, there’s one right out the back way, must be a fairy circle there,” you nod.

“Thank you for the directions,” he smiles sincerely, and then, he begins to fly. You wonder how such delicate-looking wings could carry his body weight as he heads toward your open kitchen window. He lands on the ledge there, turning to give you one final nod of farewell, and then the fairy is gone.

You sit there for a few minutes, staring after him in shock.

How much wine did you have to drink?

Three:

It’s a Thursday like any other. You’re getting used to living in this cute cottage in the woods, spending your mornings waking up with the sun, heating a kettle for tea, and letting the creative juices flow in your mind before you ease your way to the studio to paint.

It’s the end of spring, and the promise of summer warmth is looming on the horizon. 

You’re just beginning to contemplate breakfast when there’s a knock at your door, and it makes your heart freeze in your chest.

Although you might be getting somewhat accustomed to the seclusion, there are still very real dangers of being a single woman out on a large property alone in the woods, and this fact makes you hesitant as you head to your front door.

You can make out a large man through the glass, and you take a breath before peaking your head out. “Hello?”

It takes you a moment to recognize the man, as he’s substantially larger than the last time you saw him. The fairy is no longer palm-sized, instead, he’s well over six foot, and he flashes an awkward smile down at you. “Hi.”

You take in his attire, the worn jeans and the green flannel… you also note that he’s barefooted. “You’re wearing my grandpa's clothes.”

“Yeah, I uh… noticed the box in your truck, figured you might be getting rid of them anyways, so I slipped in through a crack in the window. I couldn’t just show up naked.”

Good point. “You’re big now,” you point out.

“Can I uh… can I come in?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, surveying your front porch.

You take a breath. Part of you says this is a bad idea, but part of you is also saying that this is a fairy the size of a human man, and if you don’t hear him out, you’ll be wondering what could have been for the rest of your life.

You push your door open for him. “I just made some tea, follow me.”

The fairy’s footsteps are loud on your wooden floors as he shadows you to the kitchen. You give him your cup, pouring a second one for yourself before leaning back against your sink. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” the fairy sighs, taking a seat at your small dining table. He cups his large hands around the mug of tea, as if warming himself.

“Well, I’m y/n,” you tell him.

He smiles thankfully. “Mingyu.”

“Nice to meet you again, Mingyu, how about you tell me how you’re human-sized and your wings are gone?”

“Fairies can transform. In my own realm, keeping my smaller shape is easier, but here- it takes less energy to just… blend in. It’s a sort of, um, adaptation, for survival, I guess.” 

“It doesn’t make sense how you can go from tiny to massive,” you point out.

“Well, you see, I’m big for a fairy,” Mingyu laughs nervously. “It’s part of the reason I never fit in that well with others of my kind.”

You frown at his words, giving him the space to continue.

“Yeah, so anyways, I went back home, and I had been gone a while, and it just felt weird. I hadn’t fit in before, and I didn’t fit in when I got back, and I guess I just figured… you’re a girl, and you’re here alone, in the forest- I mentioned I’m a tinkerer right? I fix things? Was thinking maybe I could help fix up your place.”

Is he seriously offering to fix your house? You stare at him in shock. “I’ve never really thought about fairies being blue-collared.”

“Blue-collared?” he looks down at his flannel in confusion.

“Never mind, it’s uh, it’s a phrase, it means you’re a worker, you do building and stuff.”

“I’m really good at building and fixing things,” he nods solemnly. 

“So… you want to stay here with me? Room, board, food… in return, you’ll fix up the cottage?” you clarify.

“I guess.”

You study him. “I’ve heard about pixies and fairies who try to lure people into fairy rings-”

“It’s not like that, I promise.” He meets your gaze. “Look, what if I fix your little shed workshop thing, show you what I can do, and you can decide later?”

You consider it for a moment. “I guess that could work, but first, you’ll need some workboots.”

“If you think that’s best.”

God, he probably does most of his tinkering while fairy-sized and barely wearing clothes… which isn’t something you want to think about.

Setting your tea down, you head to one of the back closets, where you’d stashed away a few of your grandfather’s possessions, the important things, unlike the donation box currently in your truck.

You find Mingyu some shoes, and when you go give them to him, he flashes you a smile and heads outside to get to work. 

Four:

You’re doing your best to focus on painting, but your solarium gives you a perfect view of your grandfather's old work shed, where Mingyu is currently tinkering around. 

He’s fast, and it’s clear he knows what he’s doing.

Your grandfather’s shed has a whole stash of tools, shingles, and wood, and Mingyu has already redone the roof, ripped a few worn boards off to replace them along the sides, and completed general tidying work.

He’s even weed-whacked the tall grass around the workstation, and as lunch turns into evening, he comes back from the woods with a small tree on his shoulder, which he then begins to chop for firewood.

You can definitely see how he’d be helpful to have around… and you can afford to feed him if he’s going to fix up your home. He’s probably already done a couple hundred dollars of work, maybe even a thousand- work that you’d been meaning to hire someone to deal with once you’d settled in a little more. 

You get started on dinner. You’d planned on rice bowls, and it’s easy enough to make a plate for him. Then, you go outside, calling him toward you.

Mingyu’s sweaty, and he’s got some sawdust on his jeans- but God, does he look handsome and chipper.

“I made dinner,” you tell him.

He nods, smiling before following you inside. You note the way he takes off his boots at your door, brushing off his pants, careful not to bring any dirt into your otherwise tidy house.

The two of you sit down to eat, and he’s extremely verbal about how thankful he is for the food, and how good it tastes-

You come up with an avenue of discussion to distract him from his praises. “What would you living here entail?”

He pauses. “I hadn’t thought too hard about it.”

“I feed you, you do work, you live here?”

“Something like that.”

“How long do you keep your human shape?”

Mingyu takes a breath, setting down his spoon. “I’ll be honest with you, whether you see it this way or not, your grandmother saved me. I was wounded, I came to your realm, anything could have gotten me, but your grandma saved me, glued my wing, and kept me safe so I could hibernate and heal. I owe your family. My home isn’t my home anymore, please let me help you make this cottage your home.”

“No, I-” you release the tension in your shoulders, “you can stay, but, seriously, how long do you keep your human shape?”

“Is it a space thing?” Mingyu looks around. “I can be small when I sleep if it’s a space thing-”

“I mean, my grandma has a replica doll house of the cottage that her dad made for her, was going to offer that up for you.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Mingyu takes it completely seriously, nodding diligently. 

“That works, I just have to go collect some moss to make a bed-”

“Are you being for real?” you ask, blinking at him.

“I should probably go back to my normal size when I sleep, it makes sense and takes up less space,” Mingyu nods.

“If you change your mind, I do have a spare bedroom.” 

“Nope,” the man-sized fairy shakes his head, “the doll house works.”

“Well… if you want to go get some moss, I can grab the box of clothes from my truck,” you suggest.

“Let’s do it.” Mingyu is so easy, he just agrees to everything. 

Soon the two of you are reconvening at your front door, you with a box, him with a palm full of moss. “The doll house is in the studio, I was planning to paint it.” Mingyu follows you to the solarium. In the dark of the evening, you have to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up, and Mingyu lets out a breath.

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

Five:

You wake up feeling as refreshed and well-rested as ever. It’s odd how much of a difference having a male presence in the house can make, even if he was the size of your palm while you were sleeping. 

You’ve been here over a month, but you’ve not yet gotten used to the seclusion, the feeling of being alone. Mingyu is an unexpected comfort, and you quietly tiptoe to your solarium to see if he’s awake.

The nest of moss in the dollhouse is empty, and you move to your kitchen, getting a kettle started before looking out the window. Mingyu’s lumbering around in the tree line. He’s dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, and damn does it look good.

You turn on some music, quietly making breakfast for two while trying to fight the urge to watch the beautiful man.

You’d slept in more than normal, another byproduct of feeling safe, and due to that, by the time you’re taking two plates of food outside, the temperature of the late spring air is already warming with the noon sun.

“Mingyu,” you call, finding him by the workshed, “breakfast!”

He bounds over like a puppy, and you set the plates down on a small circular table. The metal lawn set can be a bit rough, and you’ve tried to soften it with comfy pillows. Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind as he plops down, grabbing the bacon sandwich you’d prepared.

“Smells delicious,” he tells you, taking the largest bite of food you’ve ever seen.

You watch him, amused. “Did you get up early?”

“Yeah, I don’t need much sleep. Just spent eighty years sleeping, or so you tell me.” Mingyu smiles at you, a tight-lipped smile to hide the food in his mouth, you’re sure. 

“It’s a nice day,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair and looking at the world around you.

The sun is out, it’s a little cold, but the sky is clear. Dew drops are in the last stages of evaporation, clinging to the green strands of grass along the hillside area that leads down to the pond.

“Every day is a good day for tinkering,” Mingyu agrees. “Which, I meant to ask- is there anything you wanted me to do?” 

“Uh… like what?”

“I’ll finish the shed soon,” Mingyu promises. “I already have ideas about extending it, but, if you wanted me to paint the house, fix anything inside that’s a little wonky and in need of tinkering-”

“I think you should focus on the shed, if you want to extend it, you should.” For some reason, you’re apprehensive about him coming into the house just yet- you need to… acclimatize to his presence, and right now, having a wall of glass between the two of you is keeping your heart from exploding every time you look at him. “Do you uh… do you need anything to build your addition?”

“Your grandfather kept a lot of tools, nails, screws- and we’re surrounded by trees. He had loads of extra shingles, enough for years of repairs to the cottage and the shed.” Mingyu smiles at you. “I think I’ll manage… but, when it comes time to paint it, maybe we could paint it together?”

“Maybe.” You can feel your skin heating at the idea. “Anyways, I wanted to bring you some food, now I’ve gotta go inside my studio and get to work.”

“Sounds good, tinkering calls, thanks for breakfast.” Mingyu pushes the last massive bite of his sandwich into his mouth before standing up.

He nods to you and then you watch him go, sneaking a look at his butt before you tear your eyes away.

This could either be the best idea of your life, or the worst. 

Six:

Mingyu had taken his time with the shed. He’d made it twice the size, and added more windows that your grandfather had left sitting around in the original structure- it’s crazy how much he’s accomplished using only the things that are left over and semi discarded.

Then, Mingyu had taken to restoring the inside. He’d spent two days just moving stuff around, tidying and dusting- and another day just cutting wood to fill up his firewood stash. 

Now, a week after showing up at your door, he’s finally come inside to begin tinkering with old hinges and loose screws. He’s going over every inch of your cottage to make sure it’s up to his fairy standards, and you’re extremely aware of him, especially when he makes it to the solarium to begin to work.

The french doors have been a little off for years, one hinge is a little wonky- and it’s hard to focus on your painting while Mingyu’s standing there and fiddling- or, scratch that, tinkering. 

“Watcha working on?” Mingyu asks, and you suppose he must have caught you staring.

“Oh, uh… it’s a new project, and starting is always the hardest part.”

Mingyu comes around your easel, looking at the new blank canvas you had pulled out just an hour ago.

“Do you have any ideas?” he questions.

“I mean… one or two.”

Mingyu cocks his head at you. “Tell me.”

You release a deep sigh. “I guess… I was wondering if maybe… maybe I could paint your wings sometime, in an abstract sort of way.”

Mingyu is quiet for a few moments, and you immediately try to backpedal, but he stops you. “No, it’s okay, sorry, I was just- I’ve never been someone’s muse before.”

“You haven’t?”

He shakes his head. “In uh… where I come from, my wings aren’t exactly that extraordinary.” 

“Really?” you ask in shock.

“Yeah, they’re just green. I know a lot of fairies with all sorts of colored wings, pinks, purples- every color of the rainbow. Green is… well, it’s bland, it’s like everything else in the forest.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You seem to forget that I came to the forest for inspiration- the greens here are beautiful. If I remember correctly, your wings are like… sage and stardust.”

“Sage and stardust,” Mingyu repeats, his voice like a whisper. He cracks a smile. “I like that.”

“So you’ll let me paint them?”

“If it would make you happy.”

“It would.”

“Then yes, you can paint by wings.”

Seven:

Mingyu’s continued his daily tinkerings, but now, your evenings are spent in your solarium. You’d found one of your grandmother’s magnifying glasses, the type she used for butterfly wing repair, and Mingyu is the perfect muse, sitting patiently and letting you inspect him.

You’d spent half an hour just trying to get the color of his wings right, and now, you’re doing long brush strokes against the cream canvas. You’d found some glitter too, and while Mingyu spends most of the time sitting on your shoulder while you’re painting, he also offers to douse his hands in sparkles and do the small details for you.

It’s odd, thirsting for this large, beefy man during the day, only for him to downsize and nuzzle into your hair at night- he’s still so cute as a fairy, and his wings are truly beautiful.

“You see me like this?” Mingyu asks, fluttering off your shoulder to gaze at the painting. He’s so small in comparison to the large canvas. “These are really my wings?” 

“They’re beautiful, Gyu,” you tell him, giving him a nickname without a second thought.

“Gyu,” Mingyu repeats, turning to look at you. “I like that.”

You hold out your paint brush, and he flutters over to it, balancing on the wooden handle.

It’s crazy how you’re already getting used to him- to the little things, Mingyu included. 

Eight:

It’s gotten to the point where Mingyu wants to paint the shed, so the two of you decide to head into town together. It’s a small population, and you know that the sight of the two of you is raising a few eyebrows as you enter the paint store.

Mingyu sticks out, not only for his size, but his beauty as well. He truly is stunning, and you notice multiple women staring as the two of you wander around the store.

“So what coloring are you thinking?” Mingyu asks, heading to a wall of paint swatches. 

“I mean… I just sort of figured we’d repaint it to match the house again?” you suggest.

“Well… it’s your house now,” Mingyu points out. “What are your dream colors?”

“My dream colors?”

“Yeah, I promised you I’d help you make it your dream home, didn’t I?” 

Your heart melts as you stare up at this gorgeous man. He has such a soft heart, you can’t believe how much you care for him after only two weeks, how much he clearly cares for you- but you try not to read into it too deeply. 

You turn to look at the paint swatches, truly considering what your dream home would look like.

You choose a pallet, showing it to Mingyu, and he nods. “This will be great.”

The two of you go to get the paint, and soon, you’re back in your truck. You try to play the radio, but it doesn’t drown out your thoughts, so you turn the music down.

“Did you notice how many people were looking at you today?” you ask.

“Hmm?” Mingyu tears his gaze from the trees moving by.

“Girls, a lot were staring.”

“Were you staring?” 

You flash a glimpse at Mingyu and find him grinning at you… is there a mutual attraction here? Does he like you the way you like him?

Things are just so easy. Choosing paint with him for your house, letting him make your house your dream house- it all just feels so domestic, not to mention the fact that you generally don’t like people watching you work on your art, but you feel comfortable with him.

“I, uh… yeah, I look at you, we’re friends.” You cough, forcing your eyes back to the road.

“Close friends,” Mingyu confirms.

You turn the radio back up, and Mingyu looks out at the trees again, but he doesn’t stop smiling, and your heart doesn’t stop racing either.

Nine:

It’s hard to sleep. You can’t help but think about the car ride with Mingyu earlier. 

He has to be attracted to you… right?

He’s been more touchy during your late-night painting sessions, and less afraid to cuddle up in your hair. You’ve noticed him watching you too… often when you look at him, you catch his gaze already on you.

Cohabitation with a man as fine as he is- well, you know where it leads, and you’re a little shocked you’ve gotten this far without breaking first.

You toss and turn in your bed, groaning.

God, when was the last time you were this horny?

Can you… can you touch yourself with him right downstairs? Is that weird? What if he catches you? Mingyu said it himself, he doesn’t sleep much- and… is his hearing better as a fairy? You don’t actually know much about his abilities when he has wings… maybe these are things you should ask.

You let out a sigh, bringing your hand to your breast through your sleeping shirt. In no time at all, your nipple is pebbled against your touch. You release another breath, closing your eyes and thinking about Mingyu. 

You search through your memories, deciding to focus on the thought of him chopping wood. God, in his little tank top, his muscles all bulging and glorious- the way his sweat begins to drip, making the fabric stick to his skin, showing off his abdominal muscles-

You can feel your pussy getting wet, and you begin to glide a hand down between your legs-

You stop, opening your eyes. Fuck, you can’t do this. It feels dirty, sinful- and not in a fun flirty way. 

This isn’t something that you can continue with- you can’t keep feeling this way. You have to tell Mingyu how you feel. If it ruins everything then it ruins everything, but you can’t keep this cohabitation agreement up if you’re falling in love with the man- or, should you say, fairy.

God, maybe you should have never opened Pandora’s Box. It wasn’t a flurry of chaos, not one you could see anyway, but you’re beginning to feel chaotic inside, and coming clean to Mingyu is the only way to get it settled. 

Ten:

When you wake up the next morning, you move slowly. You have a shower, make some tea, and then, after going through an internal script numerous times, you decide to go outside to tell Mingyu how you feel. 

He’s been painting the shed all morning, that much is obvious from how much he’s completed- and to make matters worse for yourself, he’s shirtless.

You almost turn and go right back inside, but instead, you pull up your big girl panties, taking a few deep breaths.

You have to do this, you’ll regret it if you don’t- just as you knew you’d regret it if you hadn’t let Mingyu inside a few weeks ago to hear him out.

“Gyu?” you call.

“Oh, hi!” he waves, and you watch paint splatter everywhere from the brush in his hand. “Oops!” 

God, he’s so- he’s so- he’s a big dork, in the best way possible.

You watch Mingyu wipe his hand across his abdomen, clearing the splatter stain there. “Had to take my shirt off, painting isn’t my strong suit sometimes,” he explains, putting the brush back into the can before he approaches you. “What’s up?”

Suddenly, everything you’d planned to say to him just disappears from your mind.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask, voice cracking.

“Could use some water,” he nods.

“Come inside,” you instruct, tearing your gaze away from Mingyu’s perfect body to lead him back into your cottage.

He follows you like a good boy, taking his boots off on your deck before joining you in the kitchen where you have a cup of water waiting for him. 

Your hand is practically shaking as you give him the cup, and he looks you up and down, an expression of concern appearing on his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head. “Just… a little jittery.”

“Is there something on your mind?” Mingyu questions, taking a sip of his water.

God, he’s still shirtless, and it’s as if he doesn’t even realize it! It’s as if being half naked in your kitchen is the most normal thing in the world to him!

You take a deep breath, doing your best to hype yourself up. “I like you,” you say finally.

“I like you too,” Mingyu grins.

“No, I… I like like you.” 

“Like like?” he repeats, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

“As in… I think you’re really amazing and good with your hands, and you’re handsome, and I enjoy spending time with you,” you blurt. 

“I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. 

You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

“Mingyu,” you take another very deep breath, stepping closer to him. “I feel for you, in here.” You put your hand over his heart, looking up at him, searching his brown eyes for some form of recognition, of understanding. 

Mingyu’s lips part, and his gaze shifts to your hand, then, he slowly places his own over yours. His palm is warm, and he squeezes you gently. “Are you saying you love me?” he asks.

You blink… it feels like he’s skipping a few steps here. You love him as a friend, and you’re attracted to him, but you’re not… in love with him, not yet anyway. 

“I-” You swallow thickly and decide to just be honest. “I think… things could be heading that way, with some more time.”

“More time?” Mingyu frowns a little. “Humans can be weird.”

“We can?” you laugh. “What’s love like for you?”

“Fairies don’t do anything halfway. We feel intensely, more so than humans I think.”

“Have you…” you cough. “Have you ever been in love before?”

“No.”

“So… how do you know what you’re feeling right now is love?”

“I know it because I would do anything for you. Just being near you makes me happy. I want to protect you, and provide for you- I’d give up my wings for you. I choose you over any of my own kind, because you understand me and accept me better than my own kind. I don’t need anyone else but you.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you choose not to say anything. Instead, you get on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his own.

Mingyu freezes for a moment, but then he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you tight to his chest. 

It’s a slow kiss, an exploratory one. It’s soft and gentle and every good thing, but you get the sense you’re going to have to lead the build-up of this. After a few kisses, you lick at his lower lip, and Mingyu responds by opening his mouth, allowing you to deepen the experience. 

His hands grab your hips, and Mingyu pushes you backward until your bum hits the counter, then he lifts you onto it, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. 

As you kiss him, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that this is a fairy. His original form is small… but as he grinds against you, you realize that what’s inside his pants right now is anything but tiny. 

God, he feels so good- and he’s already shirtless, which gives you the perfect opportunity to graze your hands along his body, teasing the muscle you find there. Mingyu shivers from the contact, breaking the kiss.

He presses his forehead against yours, breathing deeply, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm. 

“Do you want to do this? Even though you don’t love me the way I love you?” He asks.

“I want this, and I do love you Mingyu, I just…”

“You need more time,” he sighs.

“I think… do you remember how you said eighty years felt fast in the box for you? I feel like, you just move faster than I do, and that’s not a bad thing, it’s just… something we have to adjust for.”

“Adjust how?” Mingyu questions, looking down at you as his hands grip your hips harder.

You shrug. “Maybe you’ll just have to be patient with me.”

“Do I have to wait to say ‘I love you’ since you’re waiting?”

You smile up at him. “You can do anything that feels right, Mingyu.”

“This feels right,” Mingyu muses, pulling you closer to the edge of the table so he can grind his denim-clad cock against your core.

“Then do this,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and drawing his lips back to yours. 

Mingyu doesn’t fight it, in fact, he melts into the kiss, and then, his hands are grabbing your thighs and he’s lifting you up.

You grip his strong shoulders, releasing a small squeal of shock- but you refuse to break the kiss as he begins to carry you through your cottage. He knows where your bedroom is, and it’s sweet that he wants your first time to be on an actual mattress- you’d half expected him to bend you over in your kitchen and have his way with you right there, but you suppose that’s not really his style.

You still have so much more to learn about Mingyu, and you’re excited to take your time learning it. 

Mingyu lays you down gently on your bed, and his lips move to your throat. His hands find yours, and your fingers intertwine as he sucks on your sweet spot, making you moan and writhe against the bed beneath him. 

“Fuck,” you groan, brows furrowing from the pleasure already coursing through you. 

Mingyu grins against your throat, and then he begins to descend.

You’re wearing a sleeping shirt and boxers, and Mingyu’s hand is sneaking up the oversized fabric. “Can I take this off you?” he asks, pulling away and swallowing thickly, his gaze fixed on your covered chest.

You nod, but instead of forcing him to do it, you push on your wrist confines, prompting Mingyu to let you go so you can sit up, tearing the shirt off. You’re not wearing a bra, and Mingyu’s pupils blow at the sight.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again as he helps you back down to the bed. You relax against the duvet, enjoying the sensation of your bare chests rubbing against each other. Your nipples are pebbled from interest, and each brush of him against you feels like magic, especially when he begins to swivel his hips, grinding down against your pussy.

His mouth begins to move down again, and this time, there’s no fabric to stop him in his tracks. Mingyu’s lips wrap around your nipple, your fingers threading through his hair as you fight the urge to arch your back and moan like a whore in heat.

“Feels good,” you tell him, earning a groan from the large man who sucks on your pebbled bud even harder.

His free hand is on your hip, but soon, it’s rising to massage your neglected breast. His warm palm feels so good- your eyes close in pleasure, your body reacting to Mingyu and the foreplay he’s providing.

You thread your fingers deeper into his curls, gently massaging his scalp while he works you up, teasing you in the best possible way.

He’s clearly solely focused on you, you don’t think there’s an ulterior motive, a motive of getting you to beg or forcing you to wait, you think he’s simply enjoying you, and you love the feeling of being enjoyed in this way.

Even so- now it’s your patience that’s running thin, and you tug at his curls, forcing his mouth away from your breast. He looks up at you with confusion, lips parting in a silent question.

“I need you,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. 

“You have me,” he assures you with a laugh. 

“I mean-”

His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your pussy through your boxers. “You mean, you need me here,” Mingyu finishes for you.

Fuck, he’s so hot- part of you had expected him to be a virgin fairy who’s never been in love, but it’s clear from his dirty talk that he’s no virgin. 

Your pussy is wet, and you can feel a wet spot to match in your shorts, you’re sure Mingyu can feel it too.

“Since…” Mingyu takes a breath, and you can see his skin beginning to flush a pretty shade of pink, “since I’m the one who likes you more, maybe you’ll let me take my time and do what I want to do? Out of… pity?”

You laugh. “Pity? I don’t pity you- I kind of love you, Gyu, I said that-”

“Just kind of, though,” he points out, leaning down to bite your nipple gently.

You groan, arching your back and taking a deep breath. “Fine. Do whatever you want to me. Take your time. Worship me. Make me fall in love with you.”

Mingyu smiles, and then he whispers a soft, “Thank you,” before diving back toward your chest.

It’s clear that now that you’ve given him permission, he’s in no rush.

He worships your breasts, just like you’d told him to, taking all the time he wants to massage and lick and kiss and bite- and then, one of his hands returns between your legs, pushing your boxers to the side so he can access your dripping pussy.

He’s gentle at first, circling your sensitive clit and teasing your slit up and down. Then, after too much teasing for your tastes, he eases his finger into your tight hole. He’s gentle as he begins to finger fuck you, working you open at a snail's pace-

You think, as someone who time moves fast for, he really must be savoring every long moment of this. He wants to take his time with you, and for a fairy, that means something.

Mingyu’s lips are still wrapped around your nipple, and as he adds a second digit to your core, you think you might just combust.

“Gyu,” you whimper.

He hums in response.

“I’m close,” you tell him, beginning to wiggle your hips against his hand. “I’m so close-”

Mingyu’s palm finds your clit, and he finger fucks you harder, crooking his digits to reach a spot that has your toes curling.

“Oh my god-” you groan, closing your eyes and latching onto Mingyu’s hair as an anchor, keeping his face buried in your tits as he works you closer and closer to the edge-

One graze of his teeth across your nipple has you cumming on his fingers, and Mingyu releases his own sound of pleasure to echo the whimpers escaping your lips.

He’s got you pinned to the bed, there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do except take what he’s giving you.

He works you through your high, allowing you to feel every lick of pleasure as it courses through your entire body-

You’re a gasping mess at the end of it, and Mingyu gingerly removes his fingers from your pussy, pulling away from your chest to sit up on his knees, licking his digits clean as he inspects you carefully.

“Are you okay, my star?” 

You shiver at the nickname, a whispered echo of your pleasure running through you.

“Yeah,” you nod, still trying to catch your breath.

“Was that good for you?” he asks, teasing his wet finger across your nipple and making you shiver again. “It was good for me.”

“It was so good,” you groan, shifting against the bed.

“Good.” Mingyu hooks his fingers in your boxers, tearing them down your legs. 

You’re now completely bare for him, and you expect Mingyu to work on his jeans next, but he doesn’t. He lays down between your thighs, looking up at you as he peppers your skin with chaste kisses.

“Ready for more?” he questions.

You groan, and the groan turns into a laugh. “I guess I told you to do whatever you want to me,” you sigh, adjusting your legs so your feet are flat and your knees are bent, giving him better access to your pussy for what you know is about to come next. 

“You did.” Mingyu’s breath is hot against your still pulsing core, and you grab at the duvet in preparation, knowing he’s about to completely rock your world for a second time. 

Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, he continues to kiss up your thigh, and he doesn’t stop. When he reaches your core, he licks your clit gently, circling it.

You open your eyes, looking down at him to find his own lids are closed. He’s completely focused on pleasuring you, and as he pushes his tongue into your core, lapping at your slit- well, fuck, no thoughts are going through your mind.

You can only whimper, grabbing the duvet tighter, your toes curling deliciously as this man eats you out in a way that no man ever has.

He really is taking his time. It’s clear this isn’t just a duty or a ‘task’ he has to complete in order to fuck you, no, eating you out is as much his pleasure as it is yours, and somehow, that knowledge makes it even better.

You give yourself to the pleasure. There’s no anxiety, no racing thoughts, or pressures you’re imposing on yourself.

You know there’s not a time limit. Mingyu’s not eager to make you cum so he can fuck you, he’s simply enjoying the act of licking your pussy- so you simply enjoy it too.

You’re not keeping track of time, your focus is solely on the pleasure running through you, and the way it’s building.

Soon, you’re at the edge again, and you warn Mingyu, your thighs twitching around his head.

Mingyu groans in response, lips wrapping around your clit. A squeal escapes you, your chest heaving, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm slams into you.

This one is even more electric than the first, and it almost feels like you’re floating off the mattress- like you’re truly ascending to cloud nine, as if you - like Mingyu - have wings.

God, there’s not a feeling like it in the world, especially as Mingyu continues to suck your clit, working you through the most intense high of your entire life. Your legs are fully quaking around him now, your grip like a vice on the duvet.

Thank God you live in the middle of nowhere because you’re aware that you’re being loud. 

Mingyu’s groaning too, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you pinned and in place for him to eat you through the pussy contracting pleasure convulsions that are threatening to overtake your entire body in an ecstasy you’ve never, ever experienced before. 

The large man finally lets up, and you gasp, flopping back down against the bed. There are aftershocks of pleasure, and you jolt a little, goosebumps erupting on your flesh from the sensation. 

You feel the bed shift, and you look from under heavy lids to see Mingyu standing at the foot of the mattress, finally taking off his jeans.

Fuck, he’s huge- maybe foreplay wasn’t so much of a want, as a necessity. 

“You still want me?” Mingyu asks, joining you on the bed again, his breath hot against your throat as he grinds down against you, teasing his cock against your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, I need you,” you tell him.

Mingyu kisses you then, grabbing your hands and putting them above your head. He collects your wrists in one grip, and with his free hand, he grabs his cock, lining it up with your core.

“If it hurts-”

“You’ve made me cum twice,” you tell him, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”

“Whatever you say, my star,” he grins, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight, wet hole.

You groan desperately, struggling against his grip on your wrists, but Mingyu doesn’t let up. In fact, he tightens his hold on you, pushing his cock even deeper into your core.

The sounds you’re making are feral as he kisses you, his lips and tongue are hot against your own in the most delicious way.

You can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate for his girth, and when his hips are finally flush against your own, you think this might just be the most full you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Mingyu breaks the kiss, panting and looking down at you. “You feel perfect,” he whispers.

“You feel perfect,” you counter, feeling a little dim with your repetition of his own works back to him, but also too fucked out to think of anything better. 

He only grins, drawing his lips to yours. It’s a gentler kiss as he begins to fuck you, his motions slow so you can acclimatize to the massive cock that’s already rearranging your guts. 

You get lost in him, and there’s a kind of safety in having your hands pinned down above your head. You can’t quite explain it- maybe it’s just a size kink? You can’t have a bondage kink, can you? Does Mingyu even know what bondage is? Do fairies watch porn?

You push the thoughts from your head, focusing on the cock that’s dragging against your sensitive inner walls.

Soon, you’re moaning loudly again, and Mingyu finally lets up on your wrists. “I kind of…” he swallows thickly, thrusts faltering, “I kind of want you to ride me when you cum.”

“You do?”

“I’ve… well, I know I’ve been a little rough-”

“You haven’t been rough,” you assure him.

“I just mean, the first two times you came, I did what I wanted, and I want you to be in control for this last one, don’t want to overstimulate you.” 

It’s a soft idea, and you nod up at him. “I’ll ride you.”

“Good.” Mingyu kisses you gently, and then the two of you are adjusting.

He lays flat as you swing your leg over his hip, grabbing his cock to line it up with your core so you can slowly sink down on him.

Mingyu groans, his hands settling on your hips to help you be gentle as you come to a fully seated position on his cock.

“You look so perfect like this, my star,” he tells you, one free hand moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently and pinching at your nipple.

“Think you can cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, beginning to bounce.

You watch Mingyu’s lips part in concentration, his gaze fixed on your chest. He’s clearly in a daze, and it’s adorable. “I’ll cum with you,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smile.

Mingyu’s ears turn pink first, and it’s so endearing to watch the massive man flush from a compliment as you’re riding his cock.

God, he is a perfect man, isn’t he?

“I think… I think I was made to be found by you,” Mingyu says, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration. “I don’t know what I’d do If I never met you.”

“Gyu,” you coo, slowing your thrusts. Mingyu sits up, allowing you to pull him to your chest, cradling him to your breast as your fingers stroke through his hair. 

“I do love you,” he continues. “And… it’s okay if you don’t love me the same way yet. I know it’s fast, even for me, but… yeah.”

“It’s fast, but that’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“You don’t have to hide from me either,” Mingyu promises.

He lays back down flat, and you move with him, your chests pressed together as you ride his cock, groaning into his ear.

Mingyu’s hands are warm on your hips, and he steadies you, beginning to thrust up to meet your movements.

You both release sounds of pleasure, and you can feel your hearts racing together in your chests as they remain pressed to each other.

You’re tired, but you’re also eager to cum again, so you push through, closing your eyes and focusing on the pleasure instead of the increasing burn in your thighs.

“Are you close?” Mingyu pants in your ear. “I’m close.”

His sounds are like magic, and they help drag you to join Mingyu on the edge. “I’m close,” you confirm, swallowing thickly.

“Can we cum together?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, muscles clenching in preparation. 

Mingyu fucks up into you even harder, and you put all of your energy into carrying this out, into riding this man until you pass out from how good everything is about to feel.

He releases another grunt, and you press your lips to his own, which is all it takes for you to both fall over the edge together.

You feel like you’re flying again, it’s almost an out-of-body pleasure-fueled experience, but this time, Mingyu’s with you, and you know you’ll be safe with the man who knows how to navigate the skies.

He cradles you to his chest, keeping his cock buried as deep as it can go in your core. You’re both kissing each other desperately, shaking and contracting from orgasms that continue to surge through you. Your hearts are racing together, and you’re both trying to catch your breaths even in the midst of a passionate kiss.

Everything just feels so right, and natural.

It’s as if your body was made to do this, with Mingyu especially.

Soon, your orgasms are subsiding, and you’re simply kissing now. 

Mingyu holds you close, not letting you go until he’s good and satisfied.

You take a deep breath, breaking the kiss to look down at him. “So…”

“So,” he grins.

“So… I guess this changes our arrangement a little?”

Mingyu laughs, holding you tighter. “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse anymore?”

You find yourself chuckling too, and the contraction it causes of your pussy around Mingyu’s cock makes him groan desperately, his hand pushing on the small of your back. 

“You don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse.”

“I meant it when I said I’d give up my wings for you,” Mingyu muses, turning serious as he looks up at you.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“The future-”

“Is something we can talk about later,” you assure him. “Right now, I just want to enjoy you.”

“I guess… I guess we can do that,” Mingyu concedes. His arms wrap tighter around you, securing you down against his chest. He tucks you under his chin, releasing a deep breath, and that’s where you fall asleep, completely content with your blue-collared, human-sized, fairy lover.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! we all need a domestic blue collar man who's obsessed with us and wants to build our dream house for us ✨MANIFESTING IT💅

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🔮 preview. “I’m happy where I am… but, when you cum, I’ll let you warm up while I fuck you stupid.” Mingyu never used to swear. He used to call sex ‘making love’ and something about it had made you uncomfortable in some weird way- so your soft lover has taken to using profanity for your own benefit, and you can’t help the way your body reacts to the term ‘fuck you stupid.’

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, size kink, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple play, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, hand job, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 175

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s summer, and you’re more in love than ever. Mingyu’s made you rethink what it is to live in your cottage. He’s done everything in his power to make it your dream home, and his latest upgrade is a small rowboat that he’d handcrafted with the purpose of meandering around your pond.

You can’t stop smiling and giggling as Mingyu rows you around, the sunlight kissing his skin in the most beautiful way. He’s so gorgeous, and his soul is just as stunning.

Every day is a dream with him… but there are still things on your mind, things you need to discuss. 

“Mingyu?” you ask, drawing his attention away from his haphazard rowing.

“Yes, my star?” he pauses to look at you, setting down the oars to give you his complete, and undivided attention.

“I’m just… I’m thinking.”

“That’s not always the best sign,” Mingyu teases. “Thinking about what?”

“Just… we’ve been together a while now, and, I guess I’m starting to look at the future more, and I’m not really sure how to envision it.” 

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[seungcheorry]

thinking about joshua bonding with his daughter through making bracelets together.

the living room is a war zone, with tiny little colorful beads of letters and numbers all over the floor, and a little bit bigger ones in shapes such as flowers, butterflies, hearts, and stars.

"i need a V, have you seen any?", his daughter says, pouting. "i can't seem to find it."

"um, let me check", joshua stops making his own bracelet - his daughter's name in lilac tones, adorned with stars and moons - to look around.

both joshua's and the girl's tiny hands start to play with the beads, turning them around to find the needed V letter.

"oh, here it is!", he exclaims with a smile. "but is orange colored, is it okay?"

"yeah, it's fine", the girl takes the bead from her father's hand. "thank you, dad."

and they go back to silently making the bracelets, humming a song and sometimes making comments when they can't find the beads they need. it's peaceful, and it warms joshua's heart whenever he makes his little girl laugh.

after a while, when joshua has already made three bracelets - one for him, one for his daughter, and one for you -, the girl finally beams with happiness.

"okay, i'm done!"

she grabs joshua's wrist, carefully sliding the bracelet on it. her hands clasp together in anticipation, the most beautiful proud smile on her lips; and when joshua reads what is written on the bracelet, he proudly smiles too

"svt right here", he says out loud, ignoring how the girl misspelled 'right' as 'rihgt' because, in truth, it only made the gift more special. "i love it, baby!"

"do you think uncle seokmin will like one too? i could do it for his birthday!"

joshua smiles, pulling his daughter closer. "we can think of something else to give him, i like the idea of being the only one who has one of this."

the daughter laughs and nods. "yeah, okay."

[rafesbows]

rafe takes care of u (´・ω・`)/~

rafe leaned against your doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you struggle with the simplest task, opening a bottle of water. your manicured nails tapped uselessly against the cap, frustration written all over your pouty lips.

“jesus christ,” he sighed, pushing off the frame and snatching the bottle from your hands. “you’re actually helpless, you know that?”

you blinked up at him, doe-eyed, lower lip jutting out in a dramatic little pout. “it’s not my fault,” you whined, twiddling your fingers. “they’re too long, rafe.”

he twisted the cap off with ease, taking a slow sip before handing it back to you. “and yet, you still get them done every week.”

you huffed, taking the bottle and sipping delicately, your lashes fluttering. “’cause they’re pretty.”

rafe shook his head, plopping onto your couch, legs spread wide. “you called me over for this? to be your personal assistant?”

you flopped down beside him, curling up against his side. “mhm,” you hummed, tracing absentmindedly over his arm. “who else is gonna help me, rafe?”

his jaw clenched at that.

you had other people. friends. guys who tripped over themselves to cater to you. but here you were, clinging to him, whining his name, acting like he was the only one who could take care of you.

his fingers flexed against his thigh. “you’re lucky you’re cute, crybaby,” he muttered. “what else do you need help with?”

—

rafe had you sprawled out on your plush pink couch, your lacy little shorts shoved aside, thighs spread wide over his lap. his fingers were buried deep inside your dripping cunt, the cold metal of his rings pressing against your swollen clit as he worked you open.

"so fucking needy," he muttered, watching the way your body squirmed, desperate for more. "cryin’ all day ‘cause you can’t do shit for yourself, but you sure know how to make a fucking mess."

your manicured nails dug into his wrist, trying to slow him down, but rafe just smirked, curling his fingers, pressing right against that spot that made you see stars.

your head fell back against the cushions, a whimper slipping from your glossy lips. "r-rafe—"

"what, baby?" he cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. "this what you wanted? needed me to take care of this too?"

you nodded frantically, hips bucking against his hand, completely at his mercy. your tiny little body trembled in his hold, overwhelmed by the way his fingers stretched you, filled you, owned you.

rafe leaned in, nose grazing the shell of your ear, voice thick with amusement. "bet you could touch yourself," he mused, his thumb circling your clit in slow, deliberate motions. "bet you just wanted me to do it instead, huh? my poor, helpless, spoiled little baby."

your moan was high and broken, your walls fluttering around his fingers as the heat coiled tight in your belly.

rafe chuckled, his free hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"gonna cum for me, crybaby?" he murmured, lips brushing against yours.

you could only whimper in response, body tensing as the pleasure overtook you, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm crashed over you in waves.

rafe groaned, watching you fall apart in his hands, his cock twitching in his sweats.

you were so easy to take care of.

@ rafesbows

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.��

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[d0llfaac3]

Dating Spencer Reid Hcs

Pairing: Spencer Reid x FBI!F!Reader

Warnings: these are NSFW and SWF head canons so minors do NOT interact, mentions of neurodiversity which is probably badly written because I’m autistic myself and I can’t write for it very well!!

SFW

When Spencer is overstimulated, he attaches himself to your hip..like he gets clingy. (I’m projecting)

Having a weekly routine, Tuesday night was Star Trek night and Friday night was pizza and movie night.

Spencer’s REALLY good with kids if you ever babysit.

Going on cute little bookstore dates.

He’s memorised your food orders and coffee orders in case you get too scared to order.

On lunch breaks you two sit on the FBI offices’ stairs, just talking.

Spencer really appreciates that you listen to him rambling and he’s able to unmask around you.

When Spencer gets anxious, he plays with your hair tie that’s on his wrist.

NSFW

Hickeys..Spencer REALLY likes hickeys.

Certified bottom™️

He loves you being on top because he can grab your boobs.

Spencer is a tits guy, obviously he loves all of you but your boobs really got him going..

(Post prison) Spencer is usually on top, he gets angry more often but not at you and he needs a release..

When you and Spencer start going out, the first time you two had sex was almost mind blowing for Spencer, he had only had sex once or twice but you made it so much better.

Spencer’s sex drive is crazily high when it comes to you.

In the middle of a case one time you where in the filing room of the BAU and Spencer starting kissing your neck, he even put his boner against your ass.

You really see Spencer out of his shell with you.

Hope you enjoyed!! Request anything else :)

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Sleepless Mischief ✞⛧

Warnings: drawing on vi, shirless vi, boobs mentioned, fluffy, domestic life with vi

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the steady rhythm of Vi’s breathing. You sat cross-legged on your shared bed, arms crossed as you stared down at her peaceful, oblivious form. The room was dimly lit by the small bedside lamp you’d left on, casting a warm glow over her.

She was sprawled out across the mattress, one arm thrown lazily over her head, the other resting by her side. Her bare chest rose and fell with each breath, the subtle curve of her small breasts shifting slightly as she moved in her sleep. Her tattooed shoulders and toned arms looked even softer in the dim light, the contrast between her rough edges and her serene expression making something stir in your chest.

You’d been waiting. Waiting for her to wake up. Waiting for her to give you the attention she’d promised earlier in the night. But no—Vi had decided to pass out the moment her head hit the pillow, leaving you wide awake, frustrated, and bored out of your mind.

You sighed, leaning back on your hands and glaring at her like that would somehow bring her back to consciousness. Her pink hair was a mess, splayed across the pillow in chaotic tendrils, and her mouth was parted slightly, the faintest sound of a snore escaping her every now and then. It was both adorable and infuriating.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it—the black sharpie sitting in the drawer of your nightstand.

You tilted your head, a small, mischievous grin tugging at the corner of your lips. She’d been teasing you all week, poking fun at you, stealing bites of your food, and purposefully walking around shirtless just to get a rise out of you. This was your chance to get a little payback.

Sliding the drawer open as quietly as possible, you grabbed the marker and turned back to her. She hadn’t budged, her chest still rising and falling in that hypnotic, steady rhythm.

“Sorry, babe,” you whispered, not that she could hear you. “You brought this on yourself.”

You uncapped the marker and leaned closer, the faint scent of her shampoo hitting you as you hovered over her. Her face was relaxed, her lips slightly parted, her freckles more noticeable under the soft light. You bit your lip to stifle a giggle as you carefully pressed the marker to her cheek and started drawing.

It began with a small heart, then a star, and before you knew it, you’d covered one side of her face in little doodles. You added a tiny mustache just under her nose for good measure, grinning at your handiwork.

Next, you moved to her arm, the one draped across her stomach. You figured they could use a few enhancements. You added a little cartoon cat to the space near her wrist and a swirl of vines wrapping around her forearm.

The temptation to push your luck grew as your eyes drifted lower, to the soft curve of her chest. Her skin was smooth and warm, her freckles trailing down from her collarbone. You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing at the idea. But she had left herself completely exposed, hadn’t she?

“Payback,” you muttered, your voice barely audible as you leaned down and carefully began doodling. A sunburst here, a tiny flower there, a lollipop dangerously close to one of her pierced nipples. The marker glided across her skin easily, leaving a trail of harmless little drawings that you couldn’t help but admire.

You were so focused on your masterpiece that you didn’t notice the slight twitch of her lips or the way her breathing had shifted.

“the hell are you doing?”

Her voice was raspy and low, thick with sleep, and it made you freeze in place. You glanced up to see her squinting at you, one eye open, her lips quirking into a smirk despite the confusion written all over her face.

“Uh… nothing?” you said quickly, hiding the marker behind your back like a guilty child caught red-handed.

Vi blinked a few times, her free hand coming up to rub at her face—and smudging one of the hearts you’d drawn on her cheek. “What’s on my…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned. “Oh, you didn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your laughter. “I… might have.”

She groaned, sitting up and grabbing her phone from the nightstand to use as a makeshift mirror. The moment she caught sight of her reflection, her jaw dropped, and she let out a disbelieving laugh. “You drew on me?”

“You fell asleep!” you said defensively, holding up the marker. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Not this,” she said, motioning to her face, though her tone was more amused than annoyed. She glanced down at her arm, inspecting the little cat and vines you’d added. “Okay, this one’s kinda cute,” she admitted, pointing at the cat.

You grinned, your earlier guilt quickly fading. “See? You don’t hate it.”

Vi shook her head, her pink hair falling into her eyes as she leaned forward, her gaze locking onto yours. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said, her voice low and teasing.

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you as she reached for the marker in your hand. “What are you doing?” you asked, leaning back as she snatched it from you.

“Oh, you’re not getting away with this,” she said, her grin widening as she uncapped the marker and lunged toward you.

“Vi, no!” you shrieked, scrambling backward on the bed, but it was no use. She was faster, stronger, and way too determined.

She tackled you onto your back, her weight pinning you down as she hovered over you, the marker poised in her hand. “Your turn,” she said with a wicked smile.

You squirmed beneath her, laughing uncontrollably as she started drawing on your cheek, your arm, anywhere she could reach. Her touch was light and playful, and the sound of her laughter mixed with yours filled the room.

By the time she was done, you were both breathless, your sides aching from laughing so hard. Vi sat back on her heels, her chest heaving as she admired her handiwork. “There,” she said, capping the marker and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Now we’re even.”

You sat up, grabbing your phone to check your reflection. She’d drawn a cartoon version of herself on your cheek, complete with boxing gloves and a smug little smile. The rest were just random scribbles from how bad you were thrashing around under her. “Really?” you said, holding back a grin.

She shrugged, leaning back against the pillows with that cocky, self-satisfied smirk you loved so much. “Hey, I’m an artist.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. Moments like this—when she let her guard down and showed you her playful, carefree side—were what made you fall for her all over again.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek, smudging the heart you’d drawn there even further.

Vi grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Damn right I am.”

And as the two of you lay tangled together, your bodies marked with silly doodles and your laughter still echoing in the room, you couldn’t help but think that this—these quiet, ridiculous, perfect moments—was everything you’d ever wanted.

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

ravish

hitchhiker!readerxperv!loganhowlett

a/n: i recycled this old fic and made it a logan one yay! this was written the day after i watched once upon a time in Hollywood in theaters, clearly. haven't written smut in so long ;_;

wc: 2.4k

NSFW

18+ MDNI | age gap,oral sex, masturbation and sexual themes

summary: Y/N was at a festival last night and needs to hit the road again to go on her next adventure. she hitches a drive with someone who might just be that.

au: 1970's

You squirmed as your now blistered bare feet stood on the sizzling hot concrete.

Your arm was out, holding a thumbs up, hoping that one of the roadside drivers pull over and give you a lift. The leather backpack you were wearing was so hot it began to burn your lower back; summers in Phoenix, Arizona were practically unbearable. 

The air was dry and dusty; the back of your throat ached for a gulp of water. You had been dehydrated since you had woken up this morning.

You had gone to one of the biggest parties you had ever seen. You hardly knew anyone, and that was the joy of it; You met people from all over the States, Canada even people from Europe.

You had consumed lots of drugs and fun drinks during the night, all given to you by generous strangers.

You had lost your shoes sometime during the night, but that didn’t stop you from dancing to the music that filled your ears. Guitar strums resonated throughout the field, each chord amplified by the psychedelics you’d taken, making you feel the music deep in your bones.

Lighters were held high, illuminating the dark field. It felt like you were one with everyone in the stars.

This morning, you woke up in the middle of a flower field.

The blazing sun had pierced your vision, ripping through the haze from the pollen white flowers. Multiple ants covered your sugary drink. Disgusted, you tossed it to the side, got up and walked to the nearest busy street, which was farther than you had anticipated.

You were dressed in your crochet crop top and cut-off jean shorts from last night. Your wrists were decked in various friendship bracelets that you had received during the night, an odd custom for a party, but now you had keepsakes. You smiled, remembering the connections you had made.

Cars sped by, giving you somewhat of a  'refreshing breeze' to withstand the scorching heat of today. 

Your arm began to prickle, and the pounding headache of a hangover formed in your temples. You sighed impatiently as you tapped your foot on the ground.

I don't even care who picks me up, just get me out of here,

You thought.

Your stomach growled with hunger, you had only consumed liquid in the past 14 hours.

You observed the people in the cars that passed by you:

Well-dressed women who deliberately ignored your presence.

Families in full cars, with fathers who noticed your needy figure but quickly averted their eyes, conscious of their wives in the passenger seat.

Young men, young women.

New, inexperienced drivers

As you began to lose hope, a dodge challenger pulled over in front of you.

Cracking a smile, you skipped to the passenger window. The unknown man leaned over the console and rolled down the window.

"Whereabouts are you headed?" You asked, propping your elbows on the edge of his piping hot car. "I'm headed through Tucson, then El Paso." He spoke. 

The truth was, you didn't care about where you were going, you just wanted to go somewhere else. You had been hopping from state to state for the whole summer now, and you weren't going to stop.

You were young, wild, and free. 

"Perfect." You grinned and opened the door cheekily.

You sat down, propping your practically black feet up on the dash nonchalantly. The man just grunted and steered the car back onto the road.

You observed him quietly. 

The first thing you noticed was his height; he barely fit in the small car seats. His large hand wrapped effortlessly around the steering wheel, knuckles still marked with dried blood—evidence of a fight from the night before.

He had a tanned complexion, with dark hair that looked soft to the touch. His broad, muscular shoulders nearly brushed against you, and you caught a faint scent of cologne mixed with whiskey and woody cigars.

He wore a white tank top beneath a flannel, paired with worn work jeans. A pair of tinted aviators rested on the bridge of his angular nose, and his work boots, as dirty as your own feet, pressed down on the gas pedal.

 "What do you do for a living?" You continued eyeing him.

The man snorted. 

"I do all sorts of things. Mostly any job with tools." He replied. 

"So, a handyman?" You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"You could call me that." He rasped.

"So, is that why you're going to El Paso? To work?" The car stopped at a red light.  The man reached into the glove compartment in front of you, his arm hair brushing against your thigh as he grabbed a box of cigars.

"You're a smart kid." He mumbled as he stuffed a cigar between his lips. He lit the end and took a drag;

"And you're running away from home," He offered you a cigar.

"Uh-no, I'm just on a solo adventure." You took a cigar from the box.

He lit the end with a swipe of his thumb and you inhaled; a dry scratchy feeling in your throat made you erupt in a coughing fit, trying to catch your breath.

The man found this amusing, his eyes crinkled as he grinned.

"If you don't smoke, kid, don't start now." He pulled the cigar from your lips and placed it in his mouth, where it joined the one he was already smoking. Now, two cigars jutted out from the side of his mouth.

"Jesus, you don't need to out-smoke me, I think you already did that." You crossed your arms with a huff.

"You're too innocent for smokes anyway...Also too innocent to wear whatever you have on now. It ain't covering much." He practically scolded, tightening his grip on the wheel.

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

"If it bothers you so much, stop checking me out, then." You rolled your eyes.

"Don't need to when it's all in your face. Can see your whole stomach and half of your ass is hanging out." He flung one of the cigars outside. 

"Perv." You looked out your window.

The man swallowed hard and stayed quiet, driving behind the other vehicles.

You picked up on his silence.

"Oh, you didn't like that did you?" You continued. 

He ignored you as you re-drew your attention to him, he stayed focused on the road in front of him.

You grinned.

This was amusing, you had a man about 20 years older than you all flustered because you caught him checking you out. You were probably his fantasy; young college girl age, petite, adventurous, non-commital. Compared to uptight, old fuller marital women of his age. 

The truth was, you've always liked older men but never attempted to be with one outside of your fantasies.

It was common for younger women to be coupled with older men, but the men from your town were distasteful, not like this man who was sitting next to you. 

You turned around in your seat and laid down to where your head was on his lap, and your feet were sitting on the passenger side door.

"What're you doin' kid?" He grumbled looking down at your face from the wheel.

"You want me to suck your dick don't you?" You met his eyes.

He scoffed and turned his attention to the road again.

"How old are ya'?" He took a drag.

"Pfft, I'm old enough." You replied.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

"Guess how old?" You added. 

"Early-twenties." He blew smoke out the window, cherry wood.

He guessed correctly. A devious smile curled at your lips.

"You sure know your young women pretty well, sir." You chuckled at your own joke.

The man took the hand that held the cigar and cupped your face roughly pressing his thumb on your lips, shutting you up. His cigar burned centimetres away from your face, a faint heat could be felt from the lit tip and the smoke drifted in your nostrils, the smell was intoxicating.

"Don't say things like that." He grumbled. You bit his calloused thumb seductively, giving it a soft suck which earned a raspy "fuck" from the man. 

"What's your name anyway?" He removed his thumb from your mouth placing the hand on the steering wheel. He squirmed slightly in the seat, readjusting his hips, and your head moved with him. He was getting harder by the minute.

"It's Y/N. You?" 

"Y/N?" He tasted your name on his lips. "-Logan." He growled, in a husky voice.

Your hands drifted down to your shorts, and you unbuttoned them. His eyes darted to your hands, and you felt his chest expand against your head as he took a deep breath.

You pulled them under your hips and let them bunch at your ankles. You spread your knees apart, exposing your clothed goods. You were wearing a light blue thong.

"You want to feel?" You lightly stroked your legs, prompting him to go the same.

Logan took one last drag of his cigar and threw it out the window, like the first one; his right hand was now free.

Instead of taking up your offer, he just returned his hand to the wheel, ignoring you.

"Fine then," You whined.

You pulled the fabric to the side, revealing your now wet folds.

You began to play with yourself, slowly. Rubbing supple, soft circles on your clit. Quiet moans escaped your lips as you built a rhythm. You knew where it felt good, you weren't new to touching yourself.

You turned your head to the side, facing Logan's shirt, you inhaled his scent and let out another moan.

Logan let out a low grumble from his chest and lowered his hand onto yours.

He guided your hand to insert your fingers inside of you. You let out a surprised whimper as he worked your hand to fuck yourself.

"Mh- I want- ah- your fingers, not mine- ah-" You managed between thrusts.

He removed your hand from your core and lifted it to his face, he inhaled deeply before mumbling another fuck.

"Taste yourself." He commanded as he brought your fingers to your mouth.

You complied, inserting your index and middle finger as deep in your mouth as possible, looking up at him while doing so. He watched you while biting his lip.

His hand snaked under your crop top, lifting it, exposing your breasts.

"Fuck sake," He breathed out after seeing what was underneath.

"Can't do this here." He jerked the wheel aggressively to the side, pushing you further into him.

He had pulled the car into an off-road wooded clearing a few miles away from the city; of course, it didn't take long for him to get there, he had gunned it the whole way; after all, he had more pressing matters to take care of.

You.

The both of you had made your way into the back seat of the car, your knees hung over his bulky shoulders, his face buried deep between your legs.

You were completely naked and he was fully dressed aside from the flannel that was discarded moments ago.

You gripped fist fulls of his hair as he lapped at your sensitive spot. Logan loved eating you out, your taste was sweet and your smell was intoxicating. Your wetness dripped off his chin as he sucked on your clit, sending you to another dimension entirely. He was skilled with his tongue, he knew how to keep a steady rhythm and when to switch it up. He groaned against you, savouring every second he had with you.

Logan had never been with such a pretty young thing like you before, he couldn't get enough.

He pressed his thick calloused index finger at your entrance while still using his tongue. Slowly, he pumped it deeper and deeper inside you, eventually reaching his knuckle. You moaned into your hand, trying to muffle the noise you were making. The two points of stimulation were too much.

You were already approaching your orgasm; Your hips bucked against his jaw and hand as you escalated gradually to meet that sweet release.

"Logan ah- I'm gonna cum" You exclaimed tightening your grip on his hair. This was the motivation for him to go even harder. He caught his breath against you between his thrusts. Pushing back against your clenching thighs and dove deeper, licking long fat strokes on your swollen clit. His coarse facial hair rubs against your skin, causing a slight burning sensation. Your knees shook as he picked his pace and enveloped your sensitive bud between his lips, sucking hungrily and giving it a slight bite.

Logan groaned as he heard your moan of surprise, you didn't know you like that. But he did.

You felt the pressure begin to pool out as your head tilted back with a loud moan:

Your fingertips and toes began to tingle.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Your back arched instinctively.

Logan sent you over the edge, you fell in shambles of moans and whimpers as he slowly helped you ride out your orgasm.

"That's it sweetheart, good girl." He murmured with his mouth full of you as you caught your breath.

He slowly lapped you clean until you began to feel sensitive. Logan pulled back and looked at you hungrily as he licked your cum off his lips.

"You really like doing that don't you?" You asked breathless.

He snuck his hand down to your slick and now swollen pussy, using his fingers to spread you open. He observes it in awe as if he hadn't spent the last few minutes with his face right up there.

"It's... pretty...n' soft." He mumbled under his breath. Logan ducks down and places a long kiss right on the sensitive area, breathing you in once more.

You flushed a bright pink, embarrassed. You had never had a guy ravish you like this.

"Your turn, let's switch," You said propping yourself up on your elbows.

Logan chuckled."Nah, kid, we gotta hit the road." He tugged on his pants to relieve the pressure of his hard-on against the denim.

"But you-" You start but Logan cuts you off by pulling you in for a hungry kiss. His hand tangled in your hair as he pressed you to him, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting. You moan in his mouth again and he pulls away with a smirk.

"Later," He grits, pocketing your panties. "Get dressed," He spanks your ass and gets out the back seat.

"Yes sir," You excitedly find your clothes.

i feel like logan loves to eat out, oops :)

->-> click here for part 2 <-<-

->->click here for part 3<-<-

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[theetherealbloom]

I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY

Summary: Your soulmate’s birthday is written on your arm, and it just happened to be the day the world ended.

Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Apocalypse, ANGST, Fluff, Infected, Violence, Scratching, Age-Gap (the reader is in her 20s) Romance, Unrequited, Longing, Yearning, Secrets, Injury, Blood, Jealousy, Secret Glances, Metaphors, Character Death/s, Raiders, Ambush, Hospital, Stress, Hurt-To-Comfort, 

Word Count: 7k

A/N: I 1000% came up with this one night while scrolling through prompts and AUs I could do for Joel. I saw the Soulmate AU and I was like “oh, yeah,” *evil laugh* and then I heard the snippet for I love you, I’m Sorry and I was like, “yep, perfect, time to go through pain :D” 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams

| Main Masterlist |

September 26, 1967.

The date emblazoned on your wrist felt like a cruel joke, a bitter reminder of a world that had crumbled around you. The small pulse of the glow on your wrist thrummed, a haunting echo of the past. September 26 was outbreak day. The day the end of the world had come crashing down, leaving chaos and devastation in its wake. The inked numbers throbbed on your skin, a constant reminder that your soulmate was out there, somewhere in this apocalyptic wasteland.

You traced the numbers on your wrist, the ink seeming darker today, wondering if you’d ever meet the person who was meant for you. What kind of person could they be? Were they strong, gentle, kind, or hardened by the harsh world?

Hiding the mark from Joel for almost a decade took more than just care; it took an absolute miracle. You met Joel, Tess, and Tommy on your way to the Boston QZ. When you saw Joel’s wrist and the date there, you almost stopped breathing. Your birthdate on his skin was an unexpected blow. The ink on your wrist seemed to burn, yearning to connect with Joel. But his mark didn’t seem to react the same way.

When Joel and Tess started sleeping together, the walls between your apartments were paper-thin which seemed to amplify every intimate sound. You often found yourself wandering the hallways late at night, evading FEDRA officers, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the empty night sky, stars twinkling, the moon bright. You wished for something good in a world gone bad.

You always wore long sleeves, even in unbearable heat. If you wore a short-sleeved shirt, you never took off your jacket, always coming up with some insane excuse about how cozy it was. It had become second nature, a routine you hardly thought about anymore.

As you kept your head down and worked, the grime and sweat accumulates on your skin. In exchange for your labor, you were given ration cards to obtain basic necessities.

"If it's so hot, why don't you just take off the damn jacket?" Joel gruffly asks, his irritation evident in his tone.

You stay silent and shrug, avoiding eye contact as you try to walk away to the next station, hoping to distance yourself from him. But he grabs your wrist, causing you to yank it away in surprise. "Joel, what the hell?"

Joel's tone is sharp and accusatory, causing you to instinctively flinch. "You're being awfully quiet," he scoffs.

You meet his eyes, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "What?"

"Something's off with you. What aren't you telling me?" Joel steps closer, invading your personal space, and you instinctively take a step back.

Panic sets in as you desperately search for a way out. You can't tell him the truth, so you grit your teeth and force out a lie. "I'm just tired."

"You're lying." Joel's words cut through you like a knife, making your heart race and palms sweat. The intensity of his gaze makes it clear that he won't let this go easily.

You try to remain composed, forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired from working all day."

Joel narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. "Bullshit," he says bluntly.

You bite your lip, feeling the weight of the lie in the pit of your stomach. "I promise, it's nothing."

Joel takes a step closer, making you back up against the wall. Your heart races as you feel trapped under his intense stare. "I know when something's bothering you," he says softly, his tone filled with concern.

You look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. You've been hiding this secret for so long that the thought of telling anyone, especially Joel, terrifies you.

"Please," Joel pleads, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Just talk to me."

"I have to go," you urgently declare, heart pounding as you turn and bolt away, ignoring Joel's desperate calls for you to stop.

Your heart races as you run through the dark, narrow alleys, trying to put as much distance between you and Joel as possible. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins drive you forward, but at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of guilt for leaving Joel behind.

"Why did I have to lie?" you think to yourself. "Why couldn't I just tell him the truth?"

But deep down, you know why. You know that if you were to tell anyone about the secret burdening you, it could cost both of your lives. And as much as it pains you to not tell Joel, there is no other choice.

The memories hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you back to that moment in time. But this time, it feels like you're watching from a distance, like a bystander in your own body.

"You can convince them. You always do." The words echo through your mind as Tess begs you and Joel for help. Tears stream down her face as she pleads, "You have to get her there. Keep her safe. Make things right." Joel shakes his head stubbornly, but Tess doesn't give up. "Please, Joel. Please say yes."

Everything feels surreal as you remember the infected pounding at the door, their screams like a constant reminder of what's at stake. And then Tess is gone, sacrificing herself with the rest of the infected to save the others.

Tess, your friend died that day.

But then everything shifts and you're in a different place, a house belonging to Bill and Frank. Ellie is reading a letter aloud, and you and Joel are there listening. "I used to hate the world," Ellie says, "but I was wrong. When I met my soulmate, there was one person worth saving. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”

You remember Joel storming out of the house with the letter, his grief and pain palpable in every movement he makes. It's a bitter taste in both of your mouths, but it's also a reminder of why you keep fighting – because there are people worth protecting and worth saving.

Joel may not even realize it, but you've been waiting for him your entire life. And the same goes for Joel.

The scene changes once more; the deafening sound of gunshots pierces your ears and suddenly you're back in the hospital. You're behind Joel, gripping a rifle tightly as you navigate through the chaos and bodies scattered throughout the halls. 

Suddenly, you startle awake. Your heart races in your chest, and sweat trickles down your skin as you struggle to catch your breath.

You’re not out there. You’re in Jackson. You’re safe.

You briefly close your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of fear and loss from the dream. It had been two years since that fateful day in the hospital, and you were now living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie.

You gasped for breath and clutched your chest, trying to steady yourself with one hand on the softness of the sheets. You clambered out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, washing your hands and then your face. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin as you wiped it with a towel, trying to calm your nerves.

Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, you saw the exhaustion written all over your face. The restlessness was evident in the dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was in a state of disarray.

"I look like I've been through hell," you muttered to yourself, sighing heavily.

You decided to take a shower, hoping it would help numb the pain. As the water cascaded over you, you let yourself sink into your thoughts, not really focusing on anything except the sound of water hitting your skin. Your bleary vision noticed the small cracks in the tiles on the wall.

Once you dried off and got dressed for the day, you headed downstairs to your small kitchen. The space had seen better days—cabinet doors hung slightly askew, and the pantry door refused to close all the way no matter how hard you tried.

You sighed, pushing the pantry door shut one more time before giving up and grabbing a mug from the chipped shelf. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma filling the air as you took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth.

Later that morning, you stepped out of your little house in Jackson, pausing to take in the crisp air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the town. You noticed the creaky and loose steps of your porch under your feet, each step emitting a groan of protest. The railings wobbled as you gripped them for balance, making a mental note to add them to your growing list of things that needed fixing.

It was just about daybreak, the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, the cozy sweater you wore providing some comfort as you made your way to the stables.

You were part of the barn support staff on rotation and consistently helped out in the greenhouse. Sometimes, you were out on patrol, but today was a barn day.

As you cleaned the barn and took care of the horses, you unconsciously rolled up your sleeves, figuring no one else would be up this early. You were alone in the stables, or so you thought.

Lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from your brow, you sighed. Suddenly, you heard the sound of something dropping and a familiar voice exclaiming, "Holy shit!"

You whipped your head around to the source of the sound and saw Ellie standing there, her eyes wide as she stared directly at your wrist.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hastily pulling your sleeve down.

Ellie took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "Is that... a soulmate mark?"

You avoided her gaze, feeling exposed. "It's nothing, Ellie. Just... don't worry about it."

"Nothing?!" She looked incredulous. "You’ve been hiding it all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"

You sighed, the weight of your secret feeling heavier than ever. "It's complicated, Ellie. Joel... Joel doesn't know."

Ellie’s eyes widened even more. "Joel? As in... Joel?"

You nodded, unable to find the right words. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.

Ellie moved into your space, her curiosity getting the better of her. Without warning, she grabbed your wrist, yanking it towards her. Her eyes zeroed in on the birthdate etched into your skin, her face a mix of shock and realization.

"September 26, 1967," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze snapped up to meet yours, eyes wide. "That's Joel's birthday."

You tried to pull your wrist back, but Ellie held on tight, her grip firm and unyielding. "Ellie, please," you started, your voice shaky.

"Dude," she cut you off, her tone urgent and insistent. "You need to fucking tell him."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Ellie, it's not that simple," you began, but she shook her head, not letting you finish.

"Not that simple?" she repeated, incredulous. "You've got his birthday on your wrist. You're soulmates! How much more complicated can it be?"

Your shoulders slumped as you finally managed to free your wrist from her grip. You rubbed the tender skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You don't understand," you said softly. "Joel... he's been through so much. And so have I. Telling him now, after all these years... it might just make things worse."

Ellie's expression softened, but she didn't back down. "You think keeping it a secret is any better? He deserves to know. You both do."

You turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "Joel... he's moved on, he doesn’t want anything to do with relationships, and I don’t want to disrupt that."

Ellie snorted, crossing her arms. "Moved on? Joel’s not exactly the moving on type. He carries everything with him, all the time. You think he doesn't feel something for you?"

You glanced back at her, tears welling up in your eyes. "And what if he doesn't? What if he sees this and... and it means nothing to him?"

Ellie sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try. And trust me, he’s stronger than you think. You both are."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you just stood there, lost in thought. Finally, you nodded, a small, tentative movement. "I'll think about it," you whispered.

Ellie squeezed your shoulder gently before letting go. "Good. Because secrets have a way of coming out, one way or another. And it's better if it comes from you."

As she turned to leave, you stared down at the date on your wrist, the ink seeming to pulse with a life of its own. 

Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.

You sat alone on the bench in the food hall, picking at your meal and lost in your thoughts when a familiar drawl pulled you back to reality.

"Hey, darlin’."

The sound of Joel’s voice made your heart skip a beat, and a sudden warmth spread through your body. You nearly choked on your food, glancing up to see him settling next to you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hi, Joel,” you sputtered, trying to regain your composure.

Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No, not at all.”

He leaned back, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “How’s your day been?”

You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Busy, as always. Barn duties and all that.”

Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Yeah, I hear you’ve been workin’ hard. Always see you runnin’ around, takin’ care of things.”

A soft blush crept up your cheeks under his scrutiny. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? What about you?”

“Same old,” he replied, his voice low and soothing. “Patrols, repairs, keepin’ an eye on Ellie. She’s a handful.”

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “She definitely keeps us on our toes.”

Joel’s eyes softened as he watched you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The bustling noise of the food hall became a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

“You look tired,” he said gently, concern evident in his voice. “Everything alright?”

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Just… a lot on my mind lately.”

Joel reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief but sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, concern evident. “You sure you’re alright?”

Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, but you forced a smile. “Mmm... yeah. Just going through a to-do list in my mind right now.”

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving your face. “Anythin’ that needs fixin’, darlin’?”

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a few kitchen cabinets... the hinges squeak, and the pantry door doesn’t close all the way. Also a couple of loose steps and a wobbly railing too.

He nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Well, why don’t I take a look? Might be an easy fix.”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a mix of gratitude and the thrill of being near him. “You don’t have to, Joel. I know you’re busy.”

Joel chuckled softly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he let go. “I’ve always got time for you. Besides, can’t have you fightin’ with those cabinets every day.”

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Alright, if you insist.”

Joel’s eyes twinkled with a warm light. “I’ll swing by tomorrow mornin’, if that’s alright with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d appreciate the help.”

He gave a slow, easy smile that made your stomach flutter. “Great. I’ll bring my tools and we’ll get this place sorted.”

The way he said “we” filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging. “Thanks, Joel. It really means a lot.”

Joel stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Anytime, darlin’. You know I’m here for you.”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I know.”

His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the air thick with unspoken words and the electric tension between you. Finally, he took a step back, breaking the spell.

“I should get goin’,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. “Gotta talk to Tommy ‘bout somethin’.”

“Right, of course,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a thrill of anticipation for tomorrow.

Joel lingered by the table, a hand on your shoulder. “Take care, okay?”

“You too, Joel,” you said softly.

He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look. You watched him walk away, your heart pounding and your mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.

The next morning, you were up at dawn, nerves and excitement thrumming through you as you tidied up the kitchen. Each movement was deliberate, an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But no matter how much you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, your heart racing each time the hands inched closer to Joel’s promised arrival.

As you finished your second cup of coffee, the knock on the door startled you, sending a jolt through your already frazzled nerves. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door to find Joel standing there, a toolbox in one hand and a warm, familiar smile on his face.

“Good mornin’,” he greeted, stepping inside, his presence filling the room.

“Morning, Joel,” you replied, the rush of warmth at seeing him making your voice tremble slightly.

He set the toolbox down and looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.”

As Joel began inspecting the cabinets and pantry door, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Every subtle flex of his muscles under his shirt drew your attention, and you found it hard to look away.

“Found the problem,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Just needs a little tightening and some oil.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the magnetic pull of his proximity. “I’m glad it’s an easy fix.”

Joel smiled, his eyes locking with yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”

As he worked, you found yourself drawn to him, moving closer under the pretense of handing him tools or holding a flashlight. Each accidental brush of your hands sent a jolt through you, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. You felt your pulse quicken every time his fingers grazed yours.

“There,” Joel said finally, standing up and testing the now-silent hinges. “Good as new.”

You smiled, genuinely grateful and a little breathless from being so close to him. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”

He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just doin’ what I can.”

You both stood there for a moment, the kitchen suddenly feeling too small and too big all at once. The silence between you was heavy with everything you weren’t saying, a tension that seemed to thicken the air.

“Joel,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I really appreciate this. More than you know.”

He looked at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache. “I’m glad I could help. And I meant what I said yesterday—you don’t have to do everything alone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you took a tentative step closer, the distance between you feeling like an unbearable chasm. “It’s hard to ask for help sometimes. But knowing you’re here... it makes a difference.”

Joel reached out, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. You felt drawn to him, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest. 

His breath hitched as you moved closer, the air between you charged with a heady mix of anticipation and yearning. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between holding back and giving in. The warmth of his body so close to yours was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve weakening with each passing second.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the longing you’d kept hidden for so long.

He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “I—”

Just as the air between you thickened with unspoken words, a sudden, sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment. You both turned to see a young woman standing there, her eyes lighting up when she saw Joel.

“Hey, Joel!” she called out, her tone annoyingly bright. “I heard you were here and thought I’d bring over some coffee. Figured you could use a break.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “Uh, thanks, Vanessa,” he replied, his voice strained. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something.”

Vanessa’s eyes flicked to you, her gaze turning cold. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe I could help?”

Before you could step away, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. The unexpected gesture sent a shiver through you, and you looked up at him, your heart pounding.

“We’re busy, Vanessa,” Joel said firmly, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in obvious jealousy. “Right. Well, if you change your mind...” She trailed off, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of disdain and envy before she finally turned and walked away.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Joel’s grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go. His eyes met yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay. I appreciate the backup.”

Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that sent tingles down your spine. “Guess we should get back to work, huh?”

You nodded, reluctantly stepping back, though his touch lingered in your mind. “Yeah, the step and railing on the porch still need fixing.”

Together, you moved outside, the tension from earlier still simmering between you. As Joel inspected the loose step, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way his hands moved with such confidence and skill, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it all captivated you.

“Can you hold this steady for me?” he asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

You nodded, stepping closer to help. Your hands brushed against his as you held the wood in place, and the contact sent a jolt through you. The proximity, the shared task, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a dance, each movement charged with unspoken feelings.

“Almost got it,” Joel murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took all your willpower not to lean into him.

Finally, he tightened the last screw and tested the step, making sure it was secure. “There. That should do it.”

You smiled, genuinely grateful and more than a little breathless. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”

He looked at you, his eyes softening. “Just doin’ what I can.”

As you both stood there on the porch, the morning sun casting a golden glow around you, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Everything you wanted to say but didn't wash over you in the awkward stillness, and the feelings you shared were nearly visible.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the landscape as you and your patrol partner, Mark, scouted the perimeter. He was easy-going, always ready with a joke or a reassuring word. You found his presence comforting, a steady rock amidst the chaos.

“Think we’ll find anything today?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

Mark grinned, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Nah, it’s been quiet for a while now. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

Just as the words left his mouth, a shot rang out. The next few moments were a blur of chaos and violence. Raiders, hidden in the underbrush, launched their attack. Mark managed to shoot one off you, his quick reflexes saving your life. But then, he was hit, and you watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground.

“Mark!” you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. You pressed your hands against the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Mark. Please, stay with me.”

But his eyes glazed over, the light fading. You choked back a sob, fury and grief surging through you as the raiders closed in. You fought with every ounce of strength you had, slashing and stabbing, your vision blurred by tears and the pouring rain that had begun to fall. Blood and dirt smeared your face, and pain lanced through your body from multiple wounds.

The storm roared with fury, whipping the trees and lashing the ground with torrents of rain. You stumbled through the churning chaos, your clothes drenched and clinging to your skin, your muscles burning from the effort of pushing forward. Your vision blurred by the onslaught, you fought to keep moving, each step a battle against the ferocious elements. In that moment, all that mattered was survival - staying alive until the tempest passed.

It had been hours since Joel last saw them. His graying hair was in danger of being pulled out in frustration. You and Mark were supposed to be back by now. The patrol route you both took was supposed to be a shorter one.

Joel paced back and forth in the settlement, struggling to contain his anger. “Why the hell can’t I go out there, Tommy? She’s my partner, my—” He cut himself off, frustration and fear etched into his features.

Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm. “You’re too close to this, Joel. You need to stay here. I’ll find her.”

Hours dragged by, each minute an eternity. Joel’s rage simmered, his helplessness gnawing at him. He punched the wall, his knuckles splitting, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing you.

Tommy had taken a small team out to search for you and Mark, but there was still no word. The storm raged on, making it even harder to find any trace of you.

Joel’s mind raced with possibilities – had you and Mark been ambushed? Taken by the raiders? Injured and unable to make it back? His heart clenched at the thought of you hurt or worse.

He cursed himself for not going out with you both, for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He knew better than anyone that in this world, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But he had let himself become complacent, too focused on protecting you rather than seeing things clearly.

Bile rises in Joel's throat, the taste of fear and worry leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling down as he anxiously waits for any news.

The bitter taste of regret and fear lingered on Joel’s tongue, each thought of what could happen to you making his stomach turn.

The metallic taste of blood was thick on Joel's tongue as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back his emotions. The rancid taste of fear and worry lingered in his mouth, coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.

Meanwhile, Tommy pushed through the storm, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant echoes of thunder. He called out your name, his voice barely audible above the roar of the tempest. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, each step sinking into the mud as he trudged forward.

The rain came down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted branches and slick ground for brief moments. He stumbled over fallen logs and through thick underbrush, the storm making every movement a struggle.

Tommy's eyes darted around, searching desperately. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach, a fear that he was too late. Then, in the distance, he saw a figure lying still. His breath caught in his throat as he hurried over, praying that it wasn't you.

As he got closer, he recognized the bodies of the raiders, their lifeless forms sprawled across the muddy ground. The sight was gruesome, the aftermath of a brutal fight. His heart sank when he saw Mark, his friend and comrade, lying motionless with a fatal wound. He forced himself to look away, his focus now solely on finding you.

Finally, his eyes landed on you, crumpled and barely breathing. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside you. Blood soaked your clothes, mingling with the dirt and rain, creating a grim tapestry that told the story of your fierce struggle.

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling with urgency and concern. He gently lifted your head, cradling you in his arms. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed, pain-filled eyes.

“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. The confusion and pain in your gaze made Tommy’s heart clench.

Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the mark on your wrist, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It was the same date he had seen on Joel’s wrist—the same mark. Realization hit him like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with a sudden clarity. “It’s Tommy,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. Just hold on.”

But you had already slipped back into unconsciousness, your body limp in his arms. Tommy’s heart raced as he gently but urgently lifted you, securing you on his horse. He mounted behind you, holding you close to keep you steady, and spurred the horse into a gallop.

The ride back was a blur of rain and darkness, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm seemed to rage even harder, the wind whipping through the trees and the rain stinging like needles. Tommy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, fear for your life mingling with the shocking revelation of your connection to Joel.

By the time Tommy reached the settlement, his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his skin like a second, frigid layer. Every muscle in his body ached from the grueling ride and the weight of your unconscious form. The rain had not let up, and his vision was blurred by the relentless downpour. But he didn't stop, carrying you swiftly yet carefully towards the infirmary, each step a struggle against exhaustion and worry.

Joel was just by the large gate of Jackson, pacing anxiously. The moment he saw Tommy approaching with your limp body, his heart seemed to stop. His face, already drawn with worry, twisted into an expression of sheer desperation.

“Is she okay?” Joel asked frantically, his voice cracking. His eyes were wide, darting between Tommy and your pale face for any sign of hope.

“She’s alive,” Tommy said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He handed you over to the medics who were rushing to meet them. Joel instinctively moved to follow, but Tommy grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Joel, wait. Look at her wrist,” Tommy urged, his voice low but insistent.

Joel’s eyes followed Tommy's gaze, landing on the mark on your wrist. Recognition hit him like a punch to the gut, the date etched into your skin unmistakable. It was the same as his. Realization dawned with a mixture of awe and dread. “Fuck,” he breathed, the weight of it crashing over him. The one person he couldn’t afford to lose was you, and now he knew why.

The medics were quick, their movements efficient as they assessed your injuries and began to prepare you for treatment. They lifted you onto a stretcher, intent on rushing you inside where they could better tend to your wounds. Joel moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but the medics tried to hold him back.

“Sir, you need to let us do our job,” one of them said, a young woman with a firm but gentle voice.

“No,” Joel growled, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “I ain’t leavin’ her side.”

Tommy stepped in, trying to reason with him. “Joel, you gotta let the doctors work.”

Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “I can’t… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain and anger.

“I know, but you stayin’ in there won’t help her. You’ll only be in the way,” Tommy said, his tone gentle but firm. He placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “You’ve gotta trust them to do their job. Let them help her.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door to the infirmary where they had taken you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be by your side, to make sure you were safe. But he knew Tommy was right. With a heavy, reluctant nod, he allowed himself to be led away, his heart aching with every step.

The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited. Joel paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. He could still see the image of you, broken and bloodied, every time he closed his eyes. The mark on your wrist haunted him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied you together. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't bear to lose you.

Tommy stood by, watching his brother with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew how much you meant to Joel, and the revelation of the soulmate mark only intensified that bond. He wished there was something more he could do, some way to ease Joel’s pain.

Finally, a medic emerged from the infirmary, her expression tired but relieved. “She’s stable,” she announced, and Joel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s got a long road to recovery, but she’s a fighter.”

Joel nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He would stay by your side, no matter what. The bond you shared was too precious to ever let go.

Days blurred into a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines. You drifted in and out of consciousness, each time greeted by the comforting sounds of Joel and Ellie. Joel's low, soothing voice often filled the room, whether he was talking to you or humming a soft tune. Ellie would sit by your bed, recounting stories with her usual animated flair, her voice a bright spot in the darkness.

One evening, as the storm outside mirrored the chaos within, you stirred slightly. The weight of Joel's hand on your wrist was a grounding force, his presence unwavering. He looked exhausted, his eyes heavy with worry, but he never left your side.

In one of your more lucid moments, you caught snippets of Joel's soft singing, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His voice was a balm, a tether to the world you were trying so hard to rejoin. He would often lean down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, his touch both a promise and a plea for you to come back to him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you awoke fully. Your throat was dry, and every muscle ached, but you were aware. The weight on your wrist brought your gaze to Joel. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his head resting on the edge, fast asleep. He looked worn out, dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing your gaze.

“I...” Your voice came out as a croak, and you winced.

“Here, drink up,” Joel said, quickly pouring a glass of water and holding it to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.

After a few sips of water, you managed to find your voice again. “How long have I been out?” you asked, your throat feeling slightly raw from disuse.

“Almost a week,” Joel replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

“A week?” you repeated in shock. It felt like only a few hours had passed.

Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “You were pretty out of it for a while there.”

You felt a pang of guilt for causing so much worry and trouble for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said firmly, his eyes filled with intensity. “Just focus on getting better.”

“I will,” you promised, grateful for his unwavering support.

The relief on Joel’s face was palpable, but as he set the glass aside, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.

You looked away, shame burning your cheeks. “Trust me, I know. It's always about me.”

Joel's jaw clenched. “I just… I didn’t think you could ever want me.” Your voice broke, the years of hiding and pretending catching up to you.

Joel’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “You’ve always been more than I deserve,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d told me.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you struggled to breathe. “I love you…” you choked out, the words finally escaping your lips after years of being held back. “I’m sorry.”

Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

In the midst of life's storms, a quiet calm settled around you both, like discovering an oasis in the desert. Amidst chaos and pain, you found your soulmate, and love emerged as the unwavering light guiding you through the darkest nights.

[vifilms]

❝ FWB!ABBY HEADCANONS ❞

word count: 2k+

content warning. eighteen+, minors dni, strap!sex, scissorcity, just a lot of p*rn written out, but omgee i'm writing foir abby again? am i returning home? me saying that when all my long fics are about a certain pink-haired butch.

masterlist.

fwb!abby who is a star-athlete, potentially a hockey player because c’mon, look at her. it starts right before the end of last season. there used to be a trio, three girls who grew up together, forever inseparable. but with a nasty fall out of abby’s break up with your best friend — you picked a side. not that anyone would believe you, but it was innocent. purely innocent.

fwb!abby who keeps you close throughout the breakup, she leans on you when she emotionally breaks, when she doesn’t want to be alone; you’re right there for her. ready to help her in whatever way you can. maybe it was naive of you to expect it to be nothing more and it’s exactly how you end up here — abby’s hand shoves down your skirt as she presses you against the locker room right after the most important game of the season. it could be how good your ass looked in the soft fabric, she couldn’t help herself. 

“mhm, how long have you been thinking about this?” gently, abby asks. “pretty girl, wanna have your fill so bad, huh?” 

all she does is tease. it’s all abby wants to do, pull those god-given moans from your lips and your whines are nothing but a symphony to her ears. but all of this is very wrong. in your bones, with every pint of blood pumping to your veins, it feels like something forbidden. even if you aren’t friends anymore, even if she hates you for siding with abby, you can’t help but love the way she strokes your puffy lips with a flick of her wrist. 

you groan as she slips a single finger inside you, whining at the welcomed intrusion. abby knows this is a slippery slope as much as you, maybe even more. it’s not lost on her what would happen if anyone were to find out, but especially your ex-best friend were to find out you loved getting fucked by her ex. 

“shut up and fuck me, yeah? you don't need to know any of that—” you shriek as she slips another inside you, effectively stretching you out as she pumps your slick, back into you as it drips over her fingers like fresh honey. 

“what was that, princess?” abby tilts her head to the side as she presses on your clit with the pad of her thumb. 

“nothing, i—” 

“hm, right. i guess the rumors are true.” 

“what rumors?” 

abby doesn’t provide any response as she fucks you into the stars, each thrust of her fingers effectively shutting you up from saying anything else. as you cry out for a release, she places deliberate kisses along your neck, her hot breath swarms goosebumps along your skin as your hips buck into her body. 

“heard a few…one from your roommate in particular.” 

oh fuck. 

the little shit knows. 

“what did you, f-fuck, hear?” abby chuckles when you can’t keep your thoughts straight. you’re close and she knows it as well when she presses her lip to your ear, it’s intentional, the cocky little shit knows just what you like. 

the first time she’s touched you and you’re already melting in her warm and needy hands. 

the sultry tone in her voice will haunt you whenever you sleep, you’ll see her in your dreams, those taunting pair of blues, the scarred cheek you love but she hates. when she says the words you fear, for some reason it sends you over the edge. 

“i heard you like moaning my name when you get yourself off, so why don’t you put on a show for me, princess?” 

fwb!abby who thinks about you, slumped against the lockers trying to catch your breath. the mantras of her name don’t leave her mind, how pathetic did it make her she couldn’t stop thinking of you. how you couldn’t escape her mind, even during practice, those stupid whimpers wouldn’t leave her. her mind can’t escape that night, the endorphins pounding her skull as she fucked you into oblivion. the secret you held close to your heart raw and exposed as you released over her pumping fingers — it all felt a little too real. a little too perfect. 

fwb!abby who tries to play it cool whenever you’re around. abby knows it’s her best shot of forgetting what happened, slipping back into normalcy. but what she doesn’t expect? how jealous she feels when she sees you chatting up one of her teammates. she suspects you might be doing the same, trying to find a distraction, anything and anyone to stop your mind from thinking of it. it’s the secret she holds close to her as she deciphers on why her blood couldn’t seem to stop boiling. she hadn’t been this possessed, the need for her sweet salvations to be found on each roll of her tongue. it’s agony as she watches you leave with them, but she just sips on her beer, calling it night at the same time as you. but her sheets will be ice while yours will be kept especially warm. 

the first thought entering your mind, this isn’t as good. she doesn’t touch you the way abby did, fuck, this girl’s mouth is eager to devour you, every drop not being wasted but you just pretend it’s abby. even if you feel slimy, a bit dirty, but it gets you where you need to be. 

when you ride the plastic cock, invisioning abby holding your hips, guiding them as you slide down and fuck yourself, chasing the high she gave you just a few weeks ago but you see golden-waves flowing on your navy-blue cotton sheets. your mind drifts to how the blue in the sheets would bring out abby’s eyes, how she might look up at you while you fuck her like it’s your right to. 

as if she belongs to you. 

the more you think of her, the easier it becomes to find your release, it comes to you quickly as you moan; you chase the high. but it still doesn’t feel as good as last time — not when you don’t have her whispering in your ear. telling you just how much you need it, whispering your dirty secrets like an oath. a string for her to pull, only one tug needed until you come apart for her like it’s the only purpose you have in life; you’re just here to please abby anderson. 

fwb!abby who doesn’t see you for a week straight. you’re avoiding her with all of you might. even going as far as missing one of her games which you never do. it pisses her off to no end and the final straw is her teammate talking about how much the two of you can’t stop fucking. yeah, god, she’s so perfect. sweetest i've ever tasted. it’s said in passing, quietly to one of her friends, not meant for abby. slamming the locker form, she sets her sights on you. she’s ending whatever the fuck this is. 

the knock on your door is harsh, spinning you out of your thoughts as you open the door to find her completely outraged. abby might as well be a bull with her nostrils flared, puffing out smoke as she only sees through a tunnel vision of red. you know why she’s upset, and you’re sure she’s heard about just who you have been spending your time with, making this all the more messy. 

“ashton? fucking ashton?” abby burls straight past the entrance, shoulder checking you in the process. 

“why does it matter if it’s her? or anyone? why do you care all of a sudden?” you go back to cleaning, as if you don’t have a very enraged woman standing in front of you. you try not to think of her sweet vanilla scent mixed with mahogany. the way she filled you up perfectly. 

“i don’t care.” abby nods as she showcases a bitter smirk. 

fwb!abby who has you pinned against the wall with her strong frame, pelvis pressed against hers, still sweaty from practice as she has you pinned against the wall. you’re not sure who kissed first, who grabbed the other closer, but she has you turned around, fingers plunging knuckle deep as she reminds you of that night. writhing against her as she whispers in her ear, “next time you crawl in her bed, remember this, when she’s failing to make you come apart. remember how easy it is for me.” 

fwb!abby who brings you back to her apartment. her lips pull the air from your lungs, suffocating you but lighting you ablaze. like a lioness when she paws at you, nearly ripping your closes to shreds with the claws she has buried in you so deep. abby is cocky about it as you pull off her clothes just the same, desperate, needy — with a angelic glint in your eyes she’ll have nightmares about. 

“princess, it will stay between us. alright?” abby groans as her baby blue dildo slips inside you. watching her defined abdomen clenched as she pushes, fully tilted inside you. “promise.”  

another secret to holster, keeping close enough to keep but not close enough where it would seep into your skin, surely to infect whatever she so craved to do. you expect everything to be a little rough, a means to an end — just a way for the both of you to fuck this out of your system — but abby’s delicate. doing her best not to completely lose it. 

you feel full as she hesitates to move, watching your face contort in divine pleasure, the way you try to move your hips, but her hands keep you in place for a moment longer. 

“baby, please, shit i need your—” a groan leaves your mouth as abby moves, thrusting her cock inside you. 

“yeah, you need it, princess?” 

it feels condescending, the stupid pet name is being thrown at you as a way to incite raw need, to instill such a primal emotion, and you feel it stirring the pits of your stomach. with each heartbeat, your chest flutters. 

your mind shuts off, all the worries that infect your mind like a disease, every reason that tells you this is a god-awful, terrifyingly horrible idea. there’s too many webs, you’re bound to be trapped up in her, with no way to come out of it. it’s the only truth settled within your soul but then she’s fucking you. it’s hard but slow. 

she’s taking her time, building you up so she has you right towards the edge. all you do is wrap your legs around her, bringing her close to you, her temple kissing yours as she loses herself inside you. it’s all more than you expected, quiet whimpers echo in her bedroom, her sanctuary she’s coaxed you into. 

“you look so hot taking my cock, pretty girl. fuck, it’s like it was made just for you but i have an appetite for something else.” 

you whimper as abby removes herself and the harness secured on her hips, until you feel her blonde bush and aching lips slide over yours. the woman above you can’t help but chuckle as your eyes roll back into your skull, a leg thrown over her toned shoulder as she slides perfectly against you. 

“you—” you gasp as she pushes her hips faster, you have no choice but to buck against her. “a-abs, oh shit, oh my fucking god.” 

quickly, you’re losing it as abby is being loud. “right in front of me all this time, fuck!” 

almost comes across as animalistic as she grunts, fucking your faster than anyone ever has, you’re so close when she grips your chin, demanding you to open. sliding her fingers inside of your mouth as you suck off your cum. effectively shutting you up in the process. 

“yeah, it’s too much, huh? are you sure you can take it, princess?” you nod your head as one thrust sends you over the end, your body twitching as you come. she soothes you through it, whispering your name over and over in your ear and it goes straight to your cunt. it’s too much but she eventually stops but you still feel her against you. everything becomes sticky and warm. 

the blunt of her nails begin to scrape lightly over the skin of your abdomen, enjoying how much your body twitches. you’re sensitive and abby chuckles.

“whenever you wanna fuck princess, just give me a call.” and after, she whispers so quietly you almost miss it, “i’ll gladly make this pussy mine any day of the week.”

[shiftthemoon]

50 WAYS YOUR LOVER SAYS, "je t'adore, mon amour"

✦ read this and let it be your reminder: love exists for you, too.

before you keep scrolling, let’s play a little game. close your eyes and place your phone down gently—it’ll still be here when you come back. take a deep breath and step into the life waiting for you. imagine them—your lover—holding your hand, leaving little kisses on your forehead, doing all the quiet, beautiful things that whisper “i love you” in ways words never could. picture it vividly, feel it in your chest.

you’re closer than you think. let these words carry you closer still. this is what love feels like when it’s made just for you.

✸ “whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

— emily brontë, wuthering heights

1. they trace constellations on your back with their fingertips until you fall asleep, whispering the names of stars like they were named just for you.

2. every morning, they memorize the exact shade of your eyes as sunlight touches them for the first time.

3. when they see a flower, they always pick the one that reminds them of you.

4. they hum songs they wrote in their head about you, forgetting the rest of the world even exists.

5. their hands hold yours like they’re anchoring themselves to the only thing that’s real.

6. they remember how you like your tea or coffee, down to the exact second it needs to steep.

7. they’ll start reading your favorite book, even if they can’t make sense of the metaphors, just to understand what makes your soul hum.

8. they run baths for you after hard days, scattering petals and lighting candles like it’s a ritual for a deity.

9. they defend your name in rooms you’ve never stepped foot in, making sure the world knows how sacred you are.

10. every time they kiss your forehead, they close their eyes, like they’re making a wish.

11. they memorize the cadence of your voice, the way it lilts when you’re excited or drifts when you’re tired.

12. they notice the tiny details no one else sees—the way your nose wrinkles when you think or how your foot taps to an invisible rhythm.

13. when you feel invisible, they find a way to make you shine.

14. they make plans for the future and always say “we” instead of “I.”

15. they look at you like they’ve just found a piece of eternity tucked away in the mundane.

16. they remember the things you’ve forgotten—like where you put your favorite sweater or what your dream was three weeks ago.

17. they’ve written your name in the margins of their notebooks, just to feel closer to you when you’re not around.

18. they tuck blankets around you when you fall asleep on the couch, careful not to wake you.

19. they call you by nicknames you didn’t even know you needed, sweet and soft like poetry only they can write.

20. they let you win arguments sometimes, just because giving you a kiss after is more satisfying than proving their point.

21. when they laugh, it sounds like music only you get to hear.

22. they’ve memorized the way you like your pillow fluffed and always fix it before you lay down.

23. when you’re sad, they remind you of all the reasons the universe is lucky to hold you.

24. they press their forehead against yours, quiet and gentle, like they’re saying “i’m here” without words.

25. they notice the little ways you show love—your touch, your words, your silences—and treasure each one.

26. they’ve started carrying your favorite snack in their bag, just in case you need it.

27. they touch the small of your back as if grounding you to this moment, this place, this love.

28. they dream of you when they’re awake, turning every thought into a love letter.

29. they’ve memorized the rhythm of your heartbeat and swear it’s their favorite song.

30. they walk on the outside of the sidewalk, shielding you from passing cars like you’re made of glass.

31. they press kisses to your wrist, your temple, your shoulder—anywhere their lips can reach.

32. when they see something beautiful, their first thought is to share it with you.

33. they hold space for your silence, knowing it’s just as important as your words.

34. they learn your love language, even if it feels foreign to them, and speak it fluently.

35. they let you wear their clothes, claiming you make them look better anyway. (you do!)

36. they find ways to bring your name into conversations, just to say it out loud.

37. they never forget the sound of your laugh, even when the world gets too loud.

38. they hold your face like it’s the answer to every question they’ve ever asked.

39. they light candles during thunderstorms because they know the flicker calms you.

40. they kiss your scars and call them the roadmap to your soul.

41. they tell you their secrets, the ones even they are scared of, because they trust you with their heart.

42. they leave notes in your bag, on your mirror, in your books—little pieces of love tucked away for you to find later.

43. they say your name like it’s their favorite word.

44. they teach themselves your favorite song on a musical instrument, even if they don’t know how to play.

45. they dance with you in the kitchen.

46. they stay up late just to talk to you about the things that matter to you.

47. they carve your initials into the soft bark of their heart, promising to carry you with them always.

48. they hold your hand in crowded spaces, making sure you feel safe in the chaos.

49. they memorize the way you breathe when you’re asleep, every inhale a symphony.

50. they love you not just in the grand gestures, but in the quiet, everyday moments—the ones where love doesn’t need to be spoken to be felt.

𖦹࣪˖ shift with the faith that someone, somewhere, is ‘waiting’ to love you this fiercely. you are worth every ounce of it. ׄ ִֶָ.

[crimsonbubble]

no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny

[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]

MINORS DNI!!

he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.

letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.

as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.

miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."

miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"

miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.

"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.

and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.

with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.

every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.

"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.

your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."

you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.

in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.

you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"

you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.

he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.

[moonstruckme]

im literally in lovee with your writing of sirius black id love love love more of him x reader pleasee [my favourite is friends to lovers or just being super domestic but tbh I'd read anything u write with him in lmaoo]

Thank you for requesting lovely! It worked out that I'd just written this when I got your ask, so I hope it fits what you're wanting!

cw: reader has hair long enough to tie back

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 833 words

Sirius finds you out behind Remus’ house, sitting in the grass and, by all appearances, playing with mud. 

“Hey there,” he says, “did you manage to find the bathroom?” 

You have a tendency to wander off. Sometimes it’s intentional, sometimes you get lost, and Sirius can never tell which is happening at any given time. As much as he’d like to tie a string between you so you’re never very far, he’s learned to let you go where you will; you always end up where you want to be anyways. 

“You were talking about football,” you say by way of answer, the slightest hint of sheepishness in your sweet voice. “I thought you wouldn’t mind if I went off for a bit.” 

Sirius hums and lowers himself onto the grass beside you, stretching his legs out. The sun is warm and welcome on his face, just enough breeze to keep it from getting too hot. 

It’s a beautiful day, you’d noted upon waking up this morning, already opening the windows in his bedroom. 

Looks like it, Sirius said from bed. He smiled wryly. It’ll probably be the last decent one we have all year.

You’d frowned. That’s not a very nice way to manifest the weather. 

While Sirius is upturned, you’re bent over, messing with something in your hands and dipping your fingers occasionally into a pail of water. 

“What’ve you got there, pretty girl?” 

“A mug,” you say simply. You thumb concentratedly at the slimy thing in your hands, lips pursing. “Or, a soon-to-be-mug.” 

“And you’re making it out of…mud?” 

“No,” you laugh, looking up at your boyfriend in that fond, indulgent way you have. Like he can be so silly sometimes. “Remember how Remus said there was clay by the stream back that way? I’m using some of that.” 

“Ah.” Sirius tilts his head, studying the misshapen lump in your hands. “I see. And this is going to be a drinking mug?” 

You hum in affirmation, and he leaves it at that. He’s not terribly sure whatever you end up with will be able to hold water, but he knows better than to try and dissuade you once you’ve set your mind to something. Maybe he can sign the both of you up for a pottery class sometime. 

A piece of hair falls from behind your ear, and you blow at it, trying to keep it out of your face with your hands occupied.

“Here,” Sirius offers. He takes an elastic off his wrist, gathering the hair away from your face and tying it back loosely the way you like it. 

You gift him a sideways smile in return. A bit of dried clay on your cheek cracks with the movement. Evidently, this isn’t the first time you’ve had to push your hair back. “Thank you.” 

“Baby,” he says, voice laden with fondness. He steadies your face with one hand, swiping at the clay with the other. “You’ve got it all over you.” 

It’s true. It covers your hands up past your wrists, and several places on your legs have pale gray tracks where you’ve wiped your fingers off on them. 

“It’s a messy business,” you say matter-of-factly, “but it dries sort of pretty, I think. Do you want some?” 

He cocks an eyebrow. “How do you mean?” 

You set your soon-to-be-mug down gingerly, extending a hand to him. “Give me your arm.” 

Sirius suppresses a sigh. He didn’t really plan on getting dirty today, but he’s hardly in the habit of denying you anything you ask for. He sets his forearm in your hand. 

You dip a finger into the wettest part of your clay, setting it to the skin above his wrist. Your touch is cool and slick on his sun-warmed skin. You draw a little star like you’re fingerpainting, the clay a funny contrast to the dark tattoos surrounding it. 

You look so pleased with your work that Sirius can’t help himself. He leans forward, giving you a drawn-out, amorous kiss. 

“Thank you,” he says in his most saccharine voice. 

Your lashes flutter prettily as you blink, a rare shy smile taking you. “You’re welcome.” 

Sirius dips two fingers into your pail of water, using them to wipe the remaining clay off your cheek more thoroughly. When he’s done, he spots another smudge on your shoulder, inexplicable. He tsks. “When you’re done with your mug, we might have to ask Remus if you can use his shower, lovely girl. You really do have it all over you.” 

“Oh, there’s no need to trouble him,” you say airily. “The stream’s not very far, and it’s flowing rather quickly with all the rain we’ve been having.” 

He blinks. “Did you bring your swimsuit?”

You look at him bemusedly. “No. Why?” 

Sirius bends his head, letting his hair fall like a curtain to conceal his smile as he kisses the clean part of your shoulder. “I think it’d be better if you used Remus’ shower, sweetheart. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust - TEASER

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

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👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday the 22nd of November 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

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[soobinskii]

taesan x reader smut

warnings : pussy eating, needy taesan, fem!reader, cum eating(?)

💌 : this might be a little bad because i haven't written in so long :(( i hope you enjoy it & let me know any feedback <33

taesan coming home from a long dance practice, tired and needy. he walks into the shared bedroom after showering, already having put on some black sweatpants that hang a bit loose around his hips. you look over from your phone to admire him in this state, slightly disheveled hair, shirtless and still a bit damp from rushing to dry off.

taesan sits on the bed next to you, leaning over to place his head under your jaw. feeling his breath fanning over your neck & his hair on the side of your cheek tickles slightly. his plump lips pressing light kisses against your skin, and his hands running up your sides.

"what's gotten into you today, sani?" you ask him, giggling breathily. he pops his head up and brings his face close to yours, lips ghosting over your own as taesan whispers. "need you, please.." his eyes are so dark with lust, you couldn't resist the look in them.

you move slightly to press your lips against his, a minty essence in the air around you. a soft groan elicits from taesan's throat before he pulls away and starts kissing down your body. feeling warmth blossoming in your lower stomach from the nips he's leaving in his wake.

lifting up your shirt, he kisses the space inbetween your boobs before moving the cup of your bra down to suck on your nipple. he's trying to take his tome as much as he can but, you can see the pure desire and yearning in his dark brown eyes. his cheeks begin to flush and hos breath has slightly picked up. taesan moves to admire you a bit, scanning you over while licking his lips, seemingly deciding what he'd like to do next.

it's not long before he returns to your neck to suck at it and leave a mark, it's dark and very noticeable. his hands are on your hips, pulling your shorts down. lifting your hips to give him access as you whimper lightly due to his small attack on your neck, nipping as if he were a vampire trying to obtain his meal.

taesan's hands run down to your thighs, spreading your legs open so he can shift his body inbetween them. his kisses resume from your chest down to your stomach, before reaching the line of your panties. you were expecting him to take them off. when he presses his lips against the red fabric, your breath hitches.

he softly licks at your folds through them and your hips twitch up slightly, silently asking for more. taesan allows his tongue to drag up against the dampening fabric a few times before he pushes them to the side. he looks down at your pussy with longing and hunger swirling in his eyes. he pushes his nose against the skin right above, kissing your clit before he allows his tongue to start dancing along your folds.

your whimpers and soft moans ring out through the room, bouncing off the walls as he continues to eat you out. taesan looks you in the eyes, holding eye contact before moving his hand from your thigh, to slip a finger in your dripping hole. he gives you a few seconds before he starts moving his wrist, already looking for the gummy spot that makes you shiver.

"you're doing so well f'me... you look so pretty like this baby.." taesan murmurs, his voice raspy and low due to his arousal. he looks down at his finger buried in your heat and plunges another finger in before continuing to lap at your clit. your hands find their way into his soft hair, brushing some of them off of his forehead before lightly grasping it. he hums into your heat and the vibrations send pleasure coursing through your body.

you whimper out as your thighs start to tremble around his head, "taesan.. i'm so close.." he makes a slight noose of acknowledgment and continues his pace. your walls clench around his fingers and he presses his face further into you. the knot in your abdomen snaps as your back arches against the mattress and you start to see stars behind your eyes as he brings you down from your high.

taesan pulls his fingers out from your pussy, and looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face. he smirks before putting his fingers in his mouth, teasing you. you avert your eyes in embarrassment as he moves to kiss you, slipping his tongue in your mouth and smiling inbetween kisses. he sits up and smiles down at you. "that was fun," he giggles out, a playful look dawning his features. "can i do that again later?"

and with that, you're suddenly aware that you're in for a long night.