#and i think its the cooler weather!

[illfoandillfie]

The next ADKoE chapter is currently at 7.8k words with a bit more of the smut to write and ofc a convo afterwards.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy time....

[raksh-writes]

I should be writing my thesis but Im feeling so lazy

[skyward-floored]

oof you're sick? I'm sorry, hope you feel better soon 💖

Ah yeah, for a few days now. I feel a little less foggy then I did yesterday, but now I have this nasty cough and my nose is stuffed in a way that makes food taste weird :/

But yeah, thank you <3

[thecoolblackwaves]

Yes I'm making soup in 100 F weather. What about it. Sometimes you remember you got a piece of meat on sale and your potatoes are starting to sprout and you've had mac n cheese 4 times this week and you simply must make soup. Don't be jealous because my house feels like a sauna and I have soup and you don't.

[yuukimiyas]

໒꒰ྀི ◜ ‧̮ ◝ ꒱ྀིა happy sunday everybun!! sendin so much light & positive energy to you as you begin to relax & reset for the new wk ahead!! ପ૮๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ აଓ i’m takin it p easy today, i might go & grab a few cheap books to bring to vacay w me!! (∩ˊᵕˋ∩)･* but i’ll see where the universe sends me today!! ilyasm & enjoy your sunday!! <333

[schoenht]

RIGHT?? All of my friends are in a diff district and go back the 9th I’m so jealous. My school lets out at 3:40 but my bus didn’t pick me up until 4:52, so a ton of students were having to stand around in 90 degree weather for upwards of an hour with no shade available, it was awful-🧃

broza do you want me to go and punch your district. WDYM ON THE 9TH. WHAT KINDA. WHAT KINDA BULLSHIT ARE THEY PUTTING YALL THROUGH TF. oh GOD i hate buses for that reason BUT I'VE NEVER WAITED THAT LONG ??? HELLO ??? ew. not the heat. that should be illegal omfg

[be-good-to-bugs]

back to drawing miku a lot

[strange-dreams-are-made-of-these]

Your Heart Fits Like A Key

Summary: Your ex boyfriend is your knight in shining armor rescuing you after a bad date. There's nobody else like Logan, and you finally see it. This is imagined with 2013 Logan in mind, but any Logan could work Warnings: MDNI!!! its porn without plot. Logan receives road head, afab!female reader, reader receives oral, pet names (baby, baby girl, princess), car sex, logan talks reader through it, not proofread, no use of y/n Word Count: 3.7k+

You blamed yourself for not checking the weather report before getting ready for your date today. Westchester County was huge, but the upper part of the county wasn't the kindest to pedestrians. Granted, you did have a car, but good ole Casper the white Dodge was sitting in the shop still waiting on that part needed to fix the transmission. Had you lived closer to the southern end of the county you could have at least been within decent walking range of the subways and trains that made the lives of New York City's residents easier.

Your phone buzzed again on your bathroom counter as you plucked the stray eyebrow hair between your brow and temple. As you looked down, you saw his name, and a flutter rose in your chest. You shook your head, deciding to answer it. "You would have thought that after i didn't answer your third call you would have thought I didn't want to talk to you."

A gruff filled the space in a response. "What can I say? If I'm known to be anything, its protective. Something could have been wrong and I would have to come and save you"

"Did you mean protective or possessive?" You asked, though not able to get rid of the smirk that crept up on your face.

"There's a very fine line between the two, darlin'." he cooed into the phone, sounding just as smooth as his line delivery.

It had been nearly a year since you and Logan broke up, yet he couldn't quite just leave you alone. It wasn't just that you two dated for two years, two wonderful years filled with love and domesticity, and the occasional fight between the forces of good and evil. You weren't much one to fight with the team known as the X-Men. Your powers occur in the cases of near accidents or without much effort. Probability field manipulation made it nearly impossible for you to receive a scratch or bruise.

Which was ironic due to your lack of success in your dating life after Logan. What was that saying about being unlucky in love?

"I'd love to stay and chit-chat with you, Logan-"

"Perfect, let's have dinner tonight at Lucky's." You could barley hear the jingling of keys in his hand, as if he was spinning them around in his finger.

You rested one hand on the bathroom counter, dropping your jaw slightly before speaking again. "I can't. I'm already going out tonight."

The keys stopped spinning and an audible change could be heard in his tone. "I'm sure the girls from work won't mind having a scary dog privilege around, or whatever you girls are saying these days."

"It's not with the girls, or with coworkers." You looked at yourself int he mirror, then pressing your brows together. Why did you tell him that?

Logan hummed on the other side of the phone, not a jovial one. "So, some slob is taking you out tonight?" He asked you.

You didn't think Jake to be a slob, except for the inappropriate water cooler bathroom humor, but he was nice and somewhat good looking.

Not as good looking as Logan though.

"Nothing too crazy. Just pizza and a walk." As you looked at your dress in the mirror, you knew you were overdressed, but you couldn't help yourself. It had been ages since you last wore the dress, and it was the perfect combination of being short enough to leave the mind wanting more and hugging your curves in the right way.

"Sounds like he can't afford to take you on a proper date. Who knows what else he can't properly do." Logan replied, knowing the sound of his voice was already driving you wild. He could imagine your face now, how soft your eyes would be as he looked down at you.

You knew the voice he was using was his bedroom voice, and it drove you mad. To feel his arms wrap around your waist and pull you back into his hold, to feel his lips dance across your cheeks and ears, nibbling the lobes had sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, how you missed him dearly.

"Too bad you'll never know." You responded, trying to force the thoughts of Logan out of your mind.

"We'll see, princess."

–

Later that night, you and Jake had sat in Martin and Rocco's pizzeria, a little place you enjoyed from time to time. Jake had showed up not only half an hour late, but he decided to wear an ill-fitting grey t-shirt and baggy jeans. His hair looked as if he had just rolled out of his bed. All while you were in the slim red dress with your black leather jacket tucked on your lap.

Jake had been laughing rather loud and ruthlessly, spitting food out as he did so. It left a sour taste in your mouth as you protectively shielded your glass of red wine from his debris. The waiter came back asking about your check. "It'll be one, bro." Jake spoke. The waiter nodded, handing the printed check over to Jake. He shook his head, then pointed at you. You looked at him dumbfounded as the waiter left.

"Why are you pointing at me?" You asked him.

He threw his hands up. "Don't look at me. This was your idea." He sounded rather confident, making your blood boil.

"I don't mind paying for my own, I would rather pay for my own. I'm not paying for you." You spoke firmly, clutching your purse. Now the bill wasn't large at all. A medium-sized pizza that you ate only one slice of as he consumed the rest, your one glass of wine, and his three beers came to around forty-five dollars before tip. "I'll pay for the drinks, no problem. I'm not paying for a pizza I barely touched."

Jake narrowed his eyes at you. "This date was your idea. Why do you think I didn't bring my wallet? Just my I.D." He asked you again.

Eyeing the rest of the wine in your glass, you looked back at Jake. The highest road to take would be to pay for the meal, tip the waiter, and never speak to Jake again.

But you never were one to take the high road.

Hanging your jacket over your arm, you stand up and walk over to Jake. "You know what?" You swirled the red liquid in your glass, watching as it stained the sides temporarily. "He's right... You wouldn't know how to treat me right." You turned to look at him, changing your posture. "Suck a bag of dicks." You then turn the glass over in your hand, drenching your pathetic date in the rest of your wine.

He wiped his eyes, making a scene of himself as you walked away. You spoke to the waiter, making sure to pay for the drinks and tip him as you said you would, then leaving the staff to take care of the rest.

You felt a newfound sense of confidence as your hips swayed leaving the restaurant and putting on your jacket.

Then the rain started to soak your hair. The confidence started to fade as you then remembered to had to use an Uber to get to the restaurant because your car was in the shop. You sighed loudly, turning on your heel to begin your long walk home.

A car pulled up toward you as the passenger window rolled down. "Need a ride, baby?"

You looked over, feeling defeated that Logan had found you. Of course, he would, like he did with all of your previous dates. "I'm good." You lied.

You knew better, he could tell by the way your cheeks had been red, even under the street lights, that something was wrong. Logan got out of the car, shutting the door before walking around, opening the passenger door, shielding it from the rain. "You sure about that?"

Option A: Tell Logan, the honest love of your life, to leave you alone and continue to walk home.

Option B: stick around until Jake comes out of the restaurant smelling like the house wine special for the night and risk watching Logan beat the shit out of him.

Option C: Accept the universe's way of telling you everything will be alright.

You pull your jacket around you a little tighter as you turn and approach Logan and his car. You look up at him, placing a hand on his cheek and gently patting it. Before you could sink into the seat, he gently grabbed ahold of your wrist, bringing it to his lips and pressing those perfectly soft lips to the inside of your wrist as he kissed it.

After making sure you were in the car, Logan closed the door, walked around the front of the car, and entered the driver's side. As he turned the engine back over, police sirens could be heard in the distance. "What's going on?" He asked watching as they approached the pizzeria and a couple of cops entered the restaurant.

"Well, if we don't get out of here, I may end up in handcuffs.” You sighed, your chest rising and falling harshly. “Not in the good way.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s my girl.” He turned the wheel, quickly speeding out of the parking spot.

He rested one hand on the steering wheel, the other was on the gearshift as he comfortably sped down the roads of the town you called home. You ignored the burning pit in your stomach, reaching into your bag and pulling out your perfume. It was a small bottle with a roller ball, applying it on your wrists and neck. Logan looked over at you, smirking. “You’re too dolled up for that slouch, Doll.” He spoke, then peering back at the road.

You hummed a little, then resting your elbow on the side door, pressing your temple on your hand as you looked over at him. “What can I say? I wanted to dress up for somebody.” But Jake was the wrong somebody.

“When you feel the need to dress up, just call me.” He spoke lowly, turning down the scenic route on the backside of the town.

You knew what he was doing, what he had planned from the time you spoke to him on the phone. After the night you had, you weren’t going to deny your knight on his white horse the pleasure of making you happy.

You knew it made him happy too, something you craved. Nobody else you have ever met was Logan. Nobody was going to be Logan. It was impossible.

“You know, I’m more than just a pretty little girl to look at, Logan.” Your left hand reached over slowly to rest on his jeans. His perfectly fitting jeans, matching with the dark button up he wore. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. His face remained pointed at the road, his eyes looking down at your hand as you finally reach to ghost over his clothed erection. He bit his lip, quickly closing his eyes as you palm him over his jeans. “I can be evil.” You coo, leaning over as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

Logan sucked in a deep breath, now placing both hands on the steering wheel. “You already torment me, princess.” He responded, now looking over at you.

You shift in your seat, now pressing both knees on the seat bottom, your hands busy unbuckling his belt. Your fingers rested on the button of his jeans as you look up at him, a devious glare in both of your eyes. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

His eyes searched yours, triangulating your eyes and lips. “Come back to me.” He whispered to your lips before you could capture them in yours. Falling back into your vicious cycle, your lips mold well with his you give into your desires.

Logan pulls away only to look at the road. This gives you enough time to unbutton and unzip his jeans. You slip your hand down his boxers, taking a hold of his girth as you bring it to the surface. You lick your lips, then pooling some more saliva in your mouth, spitting on him. As you lower down to him, your lips meet his red tip, already leaking pre-cum, and kiss him a couple times. This earned you an approving groan from Logan, who drew his lips into a thin line as he focused on the road.

You lick down his veins, then kiss up his shaft, feeling the heat in your belly grow into something different. You took Logan in your mouth, tongue wrapping around his length as you went down on him. You felt his hand then lace a crown in your hair as you bobbed up and down on him, sucking him the way he deserved.

“Good girl,” He practically purred, making your thighs shake in response. One of your hands braced yourself on his leg, knowing if you reached for yourself Logan would tear into you. The other hand reached for his balls, thumbing the skin as you massaged him. Logan began to speed, the sensation of you taking all of him without a gag reflex was pure ecstasy to him. He groaned out, huffing harshly as he praised you. Warm, velvety ropes of cum filled your mouth and throat as Logan breathed heavily. It was sweet heavenly music to your ears as you worked him through his orgasm, feeling your core deprived of attention.

“Fuck this.” Logan spoke harshly, taking another turn down a dirt road. He pulled the car into a space off the side of the dirt road, turning it off as you left go of him as you lick up the rest of his cum. “My girl needs me.” He spoke again, pulling the level on his seat back. The seat scooted all the way back before he grabbed both of your hips, practically pulling you into his lap. “You need me, don’t you baby?” He asked you, bushing your hair out of your face as you straddled him.

You had long discarded the leather jacket to the passenger seat floor, resting both of your hands on his shoulders. You nodded quickly, licking your lips feeling yourself quake over his body. “Take me to bed, or lose me forever.” You whisper between the two of you.

This sent chills down his spine as one hand raced up your spine, grabbing you by the neck and pulling your faces to each other, grabbing you in a passionate kiss. A hungry one. A desperate one. He never wanted to let you go, never again. He would gladly taking a beating every day if it meant he could hold you life this again.

His free hand reached between your bodies, unsheathing one claw to cut through your underwear. The delicate lace fell between the both of you in shreds. “I just bought those.” You complained as you broke the kiss for air.

Logan then lowered the seat back giving you both room. “I’ll buy you new ones.” He promised.

Both his and your hands reached for the back of the dress, pulling the zipper down. Logan was faster pulling it off of your body, his eyes scanning over your body once again. Like a child in a candy store, he stared in awe as you were now only clothed in your bra. Your hands made quick work of his shirt, ripping the buttons apart as the scattered around the car’s interior. “You’re not the only one with money.” you retort, now pressing your lips to his, then lining kiss to his jaw and down his neck.

One of his arms braces you, holding him closer to you as the other hand now begins to give you attention. His index and middle fingers part your folds, bringing a moan from you as you bury yourself between his neck and shoulder. “I got you, princess. I’ll work you through it.” He whispered in your ear, feeling your hips buck up into hand. His palm rubs against your core, soaked in your pre-cum as your body shivers in his. “Gotta get your ready for me, baby.” You gasp into his shoulder, lips now splayed on his shoulder as you wrap your arms around him. His finger and thumb pinch the delicate flesh of your clit, making you buck again. He used your bucking to his advantage, pressing two fingers into you. “Just like that. You take me so well.” He rubbed your gummy walls, feeling you already clench around him.

“Lo-Logan… please.”

You feel the rumble in his chest, how your chest begins to quickly rise and fall into his as you plead with him. He wonders if you will ever find out how cute you are begging him. “Please what, princess?”

You pull away from his shoulder, grinding your hips against his fingers, your bottom lip quivering. “Please fuck me.”

His lips crashed onto yours again as he removed his hand, stroking it over his length before guiding himself toward your entrance. You both sigh at the same time when he presses his tip in. His hands find your hips, grabbing handfuls of your skin as you skin onto him. You busy yourself with kissed to his hairy pecs as you roll your hips over him, bouncing on his length. Logan’s head dipped back, closing his eyes briefly. He looked up at your face, your jaw dropped again as your hands rest on his stomach to brace yourself. “Good-Good girl.” He then reached up to your bra, unsheathing his claws again and he sliced it off of your body. Once off, his hands reached your your breasts, palming your nipples, pulling your breasts together and pinching your nipples.

You bounced more on him, feeling the car rock with your movements as you clench around him, not even a whole three minutes in and your are already weak for this man.

Logan must have sensed this as he then pulled you off of him, carefully and skillfully he maneuvered you to the back seat, setting you on your back. He shimmed around, moving his head between your thighs, lining kisses from the middle of your thigh down to your core, suckling your clit as he slung on of your legs over his shoulder. You brought your hands up to your face, covering your eyes before dragging down your cheeks, then lips, then neck. “LOG-ah!” You called out as he pressed further into your core, his tongue lathing up your undoing.

As your breathed heavily recovering front our high, he continued to pamper you with kisses. Kissed from your core up to your belly button, to your sternum as his nose danced between your breasts, his arms now reaching up to cage you in after throwing both your legs over his shoulders. “It’s time to let me take care of you.”

He pressed himself inside of you again in one harsh thrust, picking the pace up as your joined bodies moved in unison. Your hands reached to cup his face as you breathed heavily in each others face, chasing another high together.

Oh how you missed Logan, and how he knows how to treat a lady.

It felt so right, all of it. Your mascara began to run down your face. Logan wiped your face with his thumb. “It’s okay, pretty girl. You’re fine. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He soothed you.

“I-I’m gon-” You scrunch your face before looking back up at him.

“Cum for me, princess.” He commanded. AS your coil came undone again, Logan’s lips met yours, causing you to moan into his face as he rode your high out on him. Your cries of pleasure fill the car as Logan’s release fell over him. Your pussy milking him for all he was worth. Logan hovered above you as you both came down from your highs, clinging onto each other tightly.

Once things began to settle for the both of you, He removed himself from you, then shifting you around to where you were now resting on top of him. His arms wrapped around your lower back and the back of your head while yours laid on the sides of his chest. Your breathing and heart beats began to slow down to as the buzz filled your head.

After a few minutes of silence, and one long over due fuck session, Logan broken the silence. “What did you mean earlier? When you said take me to bed or lose me forever?”

You looked up at him, adjusting yourself to be able to look at his eyes as you spoke. “You were right. He was a slob, and he didn’t know how to treat me.” You look as if you were caught in thought as your finger traced a figure eight on his chest, causing Logan to look at you in his usual inquiring way. “Nobody will ever be you.”

This caused him to laugh, fog inside the windows growing at the statement. “Here, I was thinking you had watched Top Gun and wanted to be cheesy.”

You narrowed one eyebrow at him, a flirty smirk growing on your face. “You’re no Goose, but you sure are a big stud, Wolverine.”

Logan nodded, the hand resting on your lower back slowly ran up and down your spine. “So, about Lucky’s?”

You hummed a little thinking about the events of the night. “Tomorrow. I’m quitting my job, no thanks to Jake. So any time after noon?”

Logan nodded, accepting the terms of the date. He then cocked his head at you, tsking you and wagging a finger. “You remembered his name, baby girl. That means I need to fuck it out of you again.”

“Maybe in a bed next time? Or a shower?” You ask him, knowing your addiction to this man was a hard one to break.

He stared at you, his face turning soft as he nodded. “Come here.” He whispered. You were more than happy to oblige, pressing your lips to his again.

Oh yes, Logan Howlett was a man of many talents. But one thing you were more than thankful for was his way of loving you harder outside of your relationship.

[luveline]

jade i am begging on my knees ….. any time you are up for it …… it would make me very greatly happy to see something with a bombshell!reader x hotch <33333

The office is hot today in the midst of a ninety degree summer, and your coworkers have been forced to strip down to their lightest layers, the women in linen blouses, men with their shirt sleeves rolled up high. Spencer has ditched his sweater vest reluctantly, cooling himself with a makeshift fan fashioned from printer paper, and Emily huffs next to you at her desk, overwhelmed. 

“How aren't you hot?” she demands to know. 

You lean back in your chair with a demure smile. “Mind over matter.”  

She rolls her eyes. “I shouldn't have asked.” 

Hotch's office door opens. You turn in your chair to watch him appear —even Unit Chief's get hot, apparently. He looks flustered in the heat, pink-cheeked and hair skewed ever so slightly, the most unmade you've ever seen him at work. 

You could get used to it. 

He feels you looking, narrowing his eyes. You'd like to think it was playful. For Hotch, it is. 

“Hot, handsome,” you say. 

“I'm fine.” 

“I wasn't asking.” You beam at him. 

“Enough. You know the rules.” 

He doesn't seem too mad, but he's right; you know the office rules. Don't flirt, don't start, and don't text him inside of work hours unless that text pertains to work itself. You'd started calling him instead —what are you wearing right now?— and he'd decided that text now meant any communication lest you find another loophole. You're pushing it. 

“Ah, the rules,” you say, throwing your arm across your eyes in mock distress, before peeking under it to see if he's watching. He always is. “You know rules aren't made for people like me, handsome.” 

“Stop it, final warning. Or I'll have you moved.” 

He makes being his girlfriend very difficult. You roll your shoulders and drop the act. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“Afterwards.” 

“No, right now. Please? It's important, I swear.” 

He gestures for you to come up. You take the stairs and cross the landing to his office, where he's already stepped back inside to open the window even further on its hinge. There isn't much wind to breeze, but there is a palpable difference between his office and the bullpen. You join him at the window and let the barely cooler air fan your face. 

“What's wrong?” he asks. 

“Can you give me a quick kiss? It would really lift my spirits.” 

He laughs somewhere deep in his chest. “No, honey. Now tell me what you wanted to tell me.” 

“I have a doctor's appointment next week, on the 13th. It's a Wednesday. I was hoping for PTO, but I can take a sick day if that's not agreeable.” 

Hotch gives you the side eye, brows gently furrowed. “Everything okay?” 

“Wouldn't you like to know.” 

“I would, actually.” 

“Yeah, well, you'll have to beg for it. Not everything in life is free, Hotchner–” You break into laughter as he grabs your waist, not expecting it, your hips tender as he squeezes. “Ouch, you're kinda handsy, you know that?” 

You sound beautiful like this, laughing as you talk, so happy it lines every word. Hotch pulls your front to his, arms crossing casually behind your back, his eyes expectant. “Tell me,” he commands smoothly. 

“Because you asked so nicely, I'm just fine, but I've been feeling a little under the weather. I think I'm anaemic.” 

“And this is the first time I'm hearing about this because…” 

“Because I'm not allowed to talk to you at work!” 

He rolls his eyes as you drop a considerable amount of your weight against his arms. Usually, Hotch would meet your eyes and say, You're punishing me for a rule created out of necessity, or something to that effect, but, despite everything that might say otherwise, he really likes you. Loves you.

“I know, honey, I'm sorry. Maybe we can… allot you a few texts a day.” He analyses your expression. “One a day.” 

You squeeze his naked forearm and lift up to kiss his cheek. He stays completely still while you do it, beside the small stroke of his thumb where it rests on your back. “Thank you. I'll leave you alone now, or we might get caught fraternising with one another and lose our jobs. Oh, wait, that's not actually going to happen–” 

You burst out laughing as Hotch once again squeezes your waist in warning, the hint of a smile on his lips. 

[nubisaureus]

how they react when you slip out of their arms

how the genshin boys react when you try to get out of their arms in bed because it's hot

character(s): Tighnari, Diluc, Zhongli

pairing(s): fem!reader x Tighnari, Diluc, Zhongli (separately)

content: fluff, established relationship, clinginess, cuddles, sleeping in the same bed, silliness, a touch of angst, suggestive language?

a/n: please bear with me, I'm still trying to find a formatting that I like, as I'm very new on this site. So my apologies if the posts are formatted differently every time!

It's also my first time writing for Tighnari and Zhongli, so please let me know what you think <3

not proofread

That being said, enjoy!✼　

┍━━━━━━━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━━━━━━━┑

Tighnari

It had been a hot day. Not in the way one may be thinking of though. Hot as in, scorching hot. The sun had been mercilessly beating down in the Avidya Forest, resulting in a humid weather that had been sucking the absolute life out of you.

One would also think that the night would be cooler, and technically, it was, if it wasn't for your boyfriend's tail, wrapped around you as an almost third arm, mimicking his actual arms that were hugging you close, making you sweat because of the weather.

You carefully slipped out of the hug, finally breathing some fresh air, and slightly moved out of Tighnari's reach, desperately looking for the colder side of your pillow.

«Mh...?» Tighnari's groan suddenly alerted you, and that was soon followed by his tail wiggling around, only to curl around air.

«[name]?» he called, still half lidded.

You freaked out: you didn't want to tell him the truth, so you pondered whether to pretend to be asleep or confess.

He opened his eyes, staring at you.

«Oh, there you are.» perking up at the sight of you, he kept staring. «Is.. everything alright?» he then continued, concern finding its way on his features.

You looked away, ashamed.

He gently grabbed your chin, redirecting your gaze towards him. «Hey. Talk to me. What happened?» he continued, even more concerned.

You sighed, not able to bear his concerned face. «I..was just hot, Nari. Your tail is very warm, and it's lovely in winter, but in this season..it's rather uncomfortable. I'm sorry.»

He sighed. «You could've just told me, you know.» and moved his tail out of the way, putting it behind his back. The bed now felt much cooler, and you felt like you could breathe again.

He then looked at you, dead serious.

«What is it now???» you were on the defensive.

«You're obligated to cuddle now.» he said with the best poker face you had ever seen.

You gasped at how he could look so serious while saying the silliest stuff, and got closer to him.

His arms sneaked their way back to your waist, and you rested your head on his chest, inhaling his scent, that was so familiar to you by now, yet so foreign at the same time.

«Goodnight sleepyhead.» he kissed your hair.

«Goodnight, Nari.»

──────────────────────────────

Diluc

Despite Mondstadt being the city of the wind, it seemed like Lord Barbatos hadn't been very benevolent on his citizens as of lately. And that came in the form of hot wind that, combined with the hot weather of the season, had led to many restless nights.

Tonight was no different. Despite the bed being more comfortable than the one at the Knight's Headquarters, Diluc's presence made falling asleep an arduous task.

Not only because you had been staring at him for the past 10 minutes or so, his relaxed face a sight that you wanted to cherish as much as possible, but the connection he had with the Pyro element made him rather unfit for the current weather.

It also didn't help that he had forgotten to take his Vision off, and so he was even more in contact with the Pyro energy imbued within it, and you couldn't do anything about it. (a/n i have this headcanon where only the owner of a Vision can freely move their Vision around).

You were uncomfortable. Actually, uncomfortable couldn't even begin to describe it.

What to do..?

His arms were tightly wrapped around you, as if he was afraid to lose you any second, but you couldn't take the heat anymore, so you carefully slipped out of his arms, standing up and stretching your body.

You walked all the way towards the open window facing the beautiful vineyards of Dawn Winery, letting the cool breeze of the night caress your features. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the quiet atmosphere all around you.

After a few moments though, you heard rustling coming from behind you.

«[Name]? [Name]! Where are you?» the slight panic in Diluc's tone alarming you, you rushed back to the bed.

«Diluc. I'm here.» you climbed onto the bed, making your way to his side once again. He held you close, and you could feel his pounding heartbeat calming down.

«You scared me, [name]. Why are you up so late?» he inquired.

You blushed, your cheeks threatening to become redder than his hair.

«I was..hot. You forgot to take your Vision off last night, and I obviously can't do it in your stead. But you looked so peaceful, I couldn't find the courage in me to wake you up. I'm sorry..» you looked at him, his expression turning into one of guilt, only to turn soft as you finished speaking.

He took his Vision off, setting it on the bedside table.

«I'm sorry I forgot to take my Vision off, love. Next time though, wake me up. I don't want you to overheat and potentially pass out, especially in this hot weather, okay?» he looked at you, waiting for a confirmation that you had received and understood his words.

«Alright. I will. I promise.» he smiled gently, opening his arms again, beckoning for you to claim your place back.

You gladly took the bait, and snuggled closer, his temperature now that of a normal human being.

«Feeling better?» he asked, gently stroking your hair.

«Yes. Much better.» and you kissed him goodnight.

──────────────────────────────

Zhongli

It was a hot night in Liyue. Despite the rooms at Wangshu Inn being decently ventilated, you were feeling hot. Zhongli's massive body wrapped around you wasn't helping either.

You tried to wiggle around, but your boyfriend, true to his archon element, had a rock hard grip on you, and so you were effectively caught in his embrace.

You sighed.

«Zhongli..» you whispered, trying to wake him up so he would let go.

No answer.

«Zhongli.» you called further, a little louder this time, and his eyelids finally fluttered, signaling he had at least heard something.

You called him again, finally catching his attention, getting rewarded with his half lidded amber eyes looking at you.

«Yes, dearest?» his groggy voice sent shivers down your spine, momentarily distracting you from your thoughts, but you quickly got a hold of yourself.

«I'm too hot. Could you move a bit please?» you asked, getting rewarded with a giggle.

«But of course. You should've said that sooner, dear. Maybe you should also take a shower to cool down? This temperature is very demanding of one's body.»

You looked at him, confused.

«But I had a shower before bed, and besides, I'm not dirty, I don't want to waste water.»

He smiled mischievously, and abruptly changed your positions, pinning you down on the bed.

«Oh, we can change that rather quickly.»

[milla-frenchy]

October

2k3 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: autumn is here, and you always loved that season. This year, you will probably love it even more Warnings: none, fluff. Meet cute, soft!Javi, book lovers, cats, alt POVs. No age specified.

a/n: this is written for @jolapeno & @goodwithcheese 's fall challenge. I ordered Peña’s Pumpkin Latte and A fall walk 🎃🍂🍁

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing and everything, as always 💕🫶 dividers @steddiecameraroll-graphics 🙏

Autumn has always been your favorite season. The cooler temperatures, cardigans, blankets on the couch. The thicker socks. You loved staying in and watching the leaves fall from your couch. Drinking coffee or hot chocolate, your cat on your lap.

You also loved going to bookstores or cafes, walking on the fallen leaves on the ground. Listening to their crunch under your feet. The streets painted in a mix of red, orange, brown colors were beautiful. The first rains didn't even bother you.

That Saturday, you took your notebag and the book you were currently reading and headed to one of your favorite places. To get a coffee sprinkled with chocolate powder, and to eat some of those ghost-shaped cookies that the owner cooked every year, from October to November. You finished your book there and decided to get a new one, so you walked to your usual bookstore. The one where the owner's cat sleeps on the books. He's beautiful, black and white. He lets you scratch his ears every time you go there, purring so hard that it always makes you smile.

It started to rain and you forgot your umbrella, so while waiting for the rain to stop, you picked three books from the shelves, and sat down in one of the armchairs to choose one of them. You turned the pages and the smell of old paper rose up to your nostrils. You loved that scent.

“Good choice,” you heard.

You turned your head towards the man who just spoke to you. Dark hair, mustache, black coat. He had two books in his hand. You'd never seen him there before.

“Your book,” he added to answer your questioning look, pointing at it. “It’s one of my favorites.”

His smile was warm, friendly. His eyes were a curious contrast of seriousness mixed with a twinkle.

“Oh, right, the book,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I’ve read great reviews about it. I just finished my last one and I am looking for a new one.”

“It's bittersweet, a little sad but very beautiful. If you're not afraid of a rollercoaster of emotions, it's perfect.”

“Well, I’m gonna follow your advice and buy it. Thank you…?” 

“Javi,” he responded, smiling again.

“Thank you, Javi,” you replied, and told him your name. “The rain has stopped, I’m gonna go. Have a good day!”

“Thanks, you too.”

You paid for the book and left quickly, seeing that new threatening clouds were approaching.

On Sunday, you walked to the park near your house. The weather was way better that day, the sky all blue. You sat on a bench sheltered by hedges that had grown well since last spring, put a blanket you brought on your knees and began reading  your book. 

You started it the night before, and you were glad you followed the advice of that man, Javi. The book suited your tastes perfectly. 

You stayed in the park until it started to get a little chilly, the blanket not enough to keep you warm, then you gathered your things and left. 

On your way back home, a curious black kitten approached you. Its fur was a bright contrast to the orange leaves on the ground.

“What are you doing here all alone, kitty?” you asked him, crouched and scratched his chin. He rubbed against your legs, purring, then left as quickly as he‘d arrived.

As you got up, you saw Javi on the other sidewalk and waved at him.

“Hi!” he greeted you, walking towards you. “You enjoyed some quiet time in the park?” he asked, pointing at your blanket.

“Yeah, I wanted to enjoy the nice weather. I go to the park every Sunday afternoon when I can. I started to read the book!” you added.

“Oh great! What do you think?”

“I really love it so far. Thank you for the recommendation.”

He smiled at you. He was cute. And handsome.

You smiled at him too. And for a few seconds you were just smiling at each other. Those slightly silly smiles that you share when you meet someone and want to know them better.

“I was going to have a coffee, do you wanna come?” he finally asked you, breaking the silence.

“Sure.”

You had never usually had coffee with strangers, but you felt like you already knew him a little. As if the fact that you had the similar tastes in books had helped you to take the leap.

He told you he always drank black coffee, but wanted to try something new, so he ordered a pumpkin spice latte. You laughed when you saw him wrinkle his nose after tasting it.

“I’m gonna stick with my usual,” he chuckled.

You spent the afternoon there, talking about whatever you could think of. Your jobs, your families, your lives, your hobbies. He had moved into the neighborhood a couple weeks ago and didn't know anyone there.

You parted ways, saying “see you soon”.

The following Saturday, you hoped to run into him. At the bookstore or at the café. Or in the neighborhood. You didn't see him and you were a little sad about it. You had often thought about him during the week.

On Sunday, you went to the park. It was a beautiful autumn day. To your pleasant surprise, Javi was waiting for you. With pastries and two coffees.

“Too creepy?” he asked with a cute, almost shy smile, as you stopped surprised in front of him.

“No… too cute,” you grinned, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He was dressed in black. Coat, sweater, pants. He was really handsome. You couldn't believe he was waiting for you there, that he remembered what you said about loving to come there every Sunday afternoon.

You drank your coffees and ate the pastries, sitting on the bench, your blanket on both of you.

He told you he bought furniture the day before, that he finished putting it together late at night. As if he was trying to explain why you didn't see each other yesterday.

“I'm glad to see you today,” you told him.

“Me too.” He looked at you, his eyes landing briefly on your lips. Smiling shyly afterwards, as if to apologize.

You saw each other for the next three weeks, every Saturday and Sunday. Doing fall walks to the cafe, bookstore, park. Every day of the week, you looked forward to the weekend. Aware that you were slowly falling in love with Javi, even if you didn't show it. You weren’t sure if he had feelings for you.

One day, you didn’t know what pushed you to do it, but you couldn't resist and you kissed him under your umbrella. He had just caressed your cheek, and his eyes were the only thing you were able to see. As if everything else had disappeared. 

He kissed you back, his lips pressing against yours, his soft mustache against your skin. You didn't talk about it, didn't want to. You just loved being with him and everything had been perfect so far.

He was always calm, reassuring and didn't rush you. You liked that he didn't feel compelled to fill in the blanks in your conversations.

“Did you see that the café is closed for renovations next Saturday?” he asked at the park, that last Sunday.

“Yes…” you looked down at your feet. You didn’t want to spend a Saturday without seeing him, so you gathered some courage. “Would you like to come and have coffee at my place?”

“I’d love to,” he added quickly, as if he was relieved to know you wanted to see him too.

You gave him your address, and added, “it's the last house on the right. The one with the pumpkins, electric garlands and candles in the living room window.”

He smiled and said “see you Saturday, Hermosa,” before leaving.

Javi wasn’t expecting to meet anyone with whom everything seemed so easy. Not so fast, not so smooth. That Saturday at the bookstore, he saw you a few seconds after the bell on the door rang, announcing an entrance. Always used to analyze every situation, every noise around him. He had done nothing but that for decades. Some habits were hard to break.

You went straight to the cat sleeping on the books, awake as soon as you had lulled him with your soft words “hey kitty, how's your day going? You're such a good boy, always taking care of those books. You love their smell, don’t you? I love it too.” 

He heard the cat purring from where he was. Javi wasn't a cat person, he preferred dogs, but found it rather cute, that loud purring sound.

He had thought back to Puff, Steve and Connie's cat. Fucking sicarios.

His years at the DEA would haunt him for years, probably for his entire life, he knew it. He had tried to work on his father's ranch, but everything reminded him of the DEA. His childhood, his teenage bedroom. The discussions with his parents about his desire to join the agency. Lorraine. He wondered what he had missed, even though he did not regret his years in Columbia. He had done the best he could.

He had thought that maybe he would recover faster if he left Laredo. If there were fewer people who spoke Spanish around him. He needed a change of life, so he had moved to the other side of the country.

And then you arrived in his life, kind of. 

When he saw you, holding his favorite book in your hands, his heart skipped a beat. There were two other books on your lap, but you were looking at his favorite. He didn’t hesitate long before coming up to talk to you. As if that book was some kind of a sign that he had to meet you.

On Sunday, he saw you sitting on a bench in the park, immersed in the book. He didn't want to disturb you, so he waited for you to leave and came to meet you while you were crouching next to a cat in the street. You really were a cat person.

The smile you gave him reached his heart a little too fast. As if you were a constant in his new life. Already. 

It could seem silly, he didn't know you. But he didn't really remember what a normal life was, either. With no drugs, no guns, no threats, no deaths. You were none of that. Maybe that was the reason why he never felt the urge to be grumpy or sassy around you.

The following Saturday he went to buy the last pieces of furniture he was missing in his apartment. He started to assemble them, without realizing how much time was passing. Until he saw that night had almost fallen. He ran to the café, to the bookstore, to the park, but he didn't see you. It was too late.

He cursed between his teeth, and hoped to meet you the next day. Yes, the next day, if the weather was nice, he would go to the park.

He smiled when he woke up the next morning, seeing the blue sky. He waited for the afternoon, then bought two coffees and some pastries. Hoping that you would be there.

You greeted him with a big, beautiful smile when you saw him. Thanking him for what he had brought. And damn, you had a charming smile.

Then, you saw each other every weekend, all October. Each week passed too slowly for his liking, while each moment in your presence passed at the speed of light.

One Saturday, in that café, he didn’t even realize that he had rested his head on his hand, turned towards you, and that he was drinking in your words. You were so close. It made you smile shily. He wondered if you were as enamored as he was. 

But he didn't want to move too fast, didn't really want to know if you were. It had been a long time since he had spent such moments with a woman. Someone who wasn't related to his job. Since high school, probably?

He didn’t want to know, but when you came out of the cafe and it started to rain, you opened your umbrella and offered him a cover rom the rain under it. Your eyes plunged into his, and he couldn’t resist the urge to brush your cheek covered in a few drops of water with his thumb. Your eyes slid from his eyes to his lips, and you bit yours. He didn’t move, not wanting to break the moment. Not wanting to go too fast. But he let you get closer to him, until your lips landed on his, offering the softest kiss he had ever received. He felt his cock throb, tightened in his pants. It was happening to him more and more when he was with you, but he didn't want to think about it. He wanted to put his arm around your shoulders to protect you from the cold, but he didn't dare. 

Though, he couldn't help himself from resting his hand on the small of your back, brushing it over your coat. He felt you getting closer to him and you walked without speaking. The silence wasn't awkward at all, and he loved that.

That last Sunday, when you offered him to have coffee at your place, he didn’t hesitate for long. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to take his time anymore.

He knocked on your door and when you opened it, he held out a book.

“This is my second favorite, if you want to give it a try,” he said. As if he was not really talking about giving a try to that book, but to him.

You smiled, pulled him by the collar towards you and kissed him.

He definitely didn’t want to take his time anymore, and apparently neither did you.

Javi p masterlist

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @iamasaddie @itwasntimethatdidit40

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Do you write Old Man Logan or just like regular Logan? Cause in case you do write Old Man Logan... considering his healing factor doesn't work as well as it used to, I was thinking maybe this prompt "“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.”" with him. Maybe he's always wanted you to make him, show the world he's yours... but hickeys and scratches always disappeared in seconds. But now, with a faulty healing factor, he can most definitely be marked up. And we wants it, he begs for it.

Make me yours

A/N: Never written for old man Logan, but there’s always a first! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed reading 🤍

Pairing: Old man! Logan x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut. I’m a softie for him 🥺

🍁🍂 Kinktober 2024 🍂🍁

.

Light warm breeze that blew in through the windows came with a promise of cooler weather as the curtains of your bedroom danced to its tunes. It wouldn't be long until winter would cast her spell upon the surroundings.

With a gentle nudge to his shoulder, you rolled over to straddle Logan's legs, letting him lie back against the pillows as you took charge. Keeping your pace slow, you rolled your hips, anchoring your hands on his chest while your eyes were fixated on look of pleasure on his face.

A firm grip on your hips signaled you not to stop as Logan sat up, arms snaking around your body to pull you impossibly closer as his breath came out in erratic pants. As if it were your favourite thing to do, which it was, you brought your hand over to trace the side of his face.

Decades of a calvary-filled yet well-lived life had settled into his wrinkles, eyes that seemed perpetually tired and yet held that kindness which you loved and the salt and pepper facial hair that did less for his age and more for his sex appeal. For you, anyways.

A faint smile appeared on your lips as he leaned into your touch, craving it as your nails dug into his back, his length reaching that spot inside your wet heat that had you grip him tighter.

“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” Logan's lips brushed against your ears as those words travelled down your spine, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh.

The yearning in his request was impossible to turn down, quelling the initial worry that creeped of him not healing completely. Your eyes must've held the questioned that was at the tip of your tongue because the answer was wordlessly provided to you when he sealed it with a kiss.

Your foreheads touched as you broke the kiss, letting out a soft gasp as his hips drove upwards, buried in your sopping pussy to the hilt.

Happy to oblige, you pulled him closer by his dog tags to lay open-mouthed kisses along his scraggly beard, down the warm skin of his neck before dragging your teeth along, relishing in the way his breathing hitched.

“More, please..”

Logan’s soft plea spurred you on as you expertly sucked on a spot, then another, allowing your nails to drag along his back now that he’d unlocked something primal. Your quiet murmur of ‘all mine’ pushed him past the edge as he came with a grunt, aiding you in reaching your high as well.

If you could exclaim it to world that he belonged to you and you to him, you would. Who were you to deny him what he so sweetly begged for?

A biiig thank you to the lovely anon who requested this 🌼

[covenha]

Synopsis: perv!roommate!yeosang can't stop thinking ungodly things about his best friend. Pairings: Perv!bff!yeosang x fem reader Genre: smut, mdni Warnings: smut (duh), yeosang in grey sweatpants bc that should be a warning WC: 746 a/n: this is filth that has been backlogged into my brain the minute that yeosang posted *that* black and white photo on ig so you know what's up. this is purely fiction so the this does not portray his character irl in any way shape or form. this is my first time writing smut so if it's poorly written or sounds like it came from those weird alpha tiktok shorts i am so sorry. its yet another self-indulgent fic so lmk how it is. as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated and my inbox is open for any requests!

just imagine pervy bff!Yeosang, you guys have been roommates for a few months now as the both of you just started college together and thought that living in an apartment together was better than living in some dingy university dorm room with strangers. he thought the idea was fine then, but he didn’t realize just how hard it was living with someone he had a massive crush on. 

you guys have always been comfortable with each other. you guys wore your more… questionable loungewear around each other. but you not wearing bras around him was a new thing. when you asked if it was cool to not wear bras around the apartment since they were uncomfortable to wear all day, yeosang agreed immediately stating that he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your living space. but he couldn’t help but get turned on. 

the bustling city’s humid weather was a hellscape compared to the cooler temperatures you both were accustomed to back in your seaside town. this meant that when the sun was at its highest, the apartment you guys shared was like a microwave. and this also meant that you would wear lighter clothing. those thinner tank tops that showcased your chest so well, those crop tops that showed off your midriff, and those fucking pajama shorts that did nothing to cover your legs. sometimes he manages to get a glimpse of your cotton panties peeking through. All of these things adding up would damn near drive yeosang to insanity. 

the sight of you wearing clothes that left nearly nothing to the imagination sent blood rushing straight to his dick. he’s lost count of how many times he’s had to rub one out quickly in his room to the thought of you. it was starting to get out of hand if he was being honest, he might start shooting blanks and get an electrolyte imbalance.

and the dreams were the worst part. he really thought that phase was over. the awkward wet dreams he’d have at night with some unknown female living out his sexual fantasies. but he was wrong. and they’ve come back stronger and more vivid than ever. and what’s worse is, you are always the star of these dreams. 

on some nights he’d have you face down, ass up, your hands held behind your back as he fucked you to oblivion on your bed with your plushies facing the wall. on other nights you’re riding his dick whining about how deep he is inside you that you can feel him in your stomach. and other times he has you splayed on the kitchen counter as he eats you out for so long you start shaking violently and squirting on his pretty face. 

on this particular night he has you on his bed, your neck marred with red splotches of his love bites. you whine about it being too much, and i mean who could blame you? he had been going at it for 3 rounds already and he didn’t show any signs of stopping. with your thighs on his shoulders, he was practically folding you in half and the aches of his passionate love making were starting to seep into your poor body. but yeosang persisted, mumbling something about how he was almost there. and it truly felt like he was. 

your spongy spot had been abused beyond belief and your whines of his name were the only things coming out of your mouth at this point.

“Sangi….”

“Sangi….”

“Yeosang!” 

and he comes so hard in one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had in his life. 

“Dude, get up!” 

he’s groggy as he hears your voice. he’s laying on his front, face plopped down on his pillow. he groans as he wakes up from your shaking. 

“We’re gonna be late for the bus, Sang. You have like 20 minutes to get ready.” you shake him some more to snap him out of his sleepy state. 

he just hums in a sound of agreement before he breathes a sigh of relief as you walk out of his room and close the door. he can feel the spurts of come in his sweatpants sticking uncomfortably around his now soft dick. his grey sweatpants were stained a dark grey in the groin area. he came so much that he felt it dripping down his leg when he stood up. man, how was he supposed to survive 4 more years of this torture? 

[ghost-proofbaby]

the cool down (e.m.)

request: from the lovely @mrsjellymunson: Please may I have a 🍋 (with 🍓 elements if there’s room) with Eddie Munson (friends-to-lovers, or established relationship, or your choice of other) in a super-hot, uncomfortable van on a really hot day (or day into evening), where he and reader have to come up with ever-more-daring/inventive ways to cool down/off, and maybe they end up next to, or in, Lover’s Lake?? I’m thinking cool cans of drink/beer, water sprays, fans, wet clothing…

a/n: okay this definitely took on a mind of its own and i just realized i did not have any water sprays or fans or wet clothing, but i did have eddie come up with a sort of unique way to cool us down <3 i hope you still enjoy this, kittie!! <3 <3 (also, if you squint, reader is alluded to having a chronic illness that causes extreme weather conditions to affect them. and i mean, you really have to squint. it's just very very vague since i got lost in the sauce of smut).

warnings: smut, oral f receiving, reader is afab, allusion to oral m receiving at the end, temperature play (ice). minors dni.

wc: 3.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

First, it had been to go driving around to get your minds off the heat. 

And it had worked. Eddie’s van was certainly not any cooler than the trailer had been, but something about riding around the town aimlessly with all the windows down did get your mind off the unbearable heatwave. Something about Eddie, singing along purposefully off-key to his favorite songs, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as you laughed at him, made it all a little less terrible. His genius plan had worked – for the first hour. 

Then, it had been to go to the gas station and get slushies. 

An even better plan than his original one, honestly. You’d gone from staring at his dash while the van stalled at a red light, desperately trying to focus on anything but that creeping sickness at the edges of your mind, when he’d brought it up. One moment, your stomach is dropping as you feel that familiar light-headedness. The next, your en-route for a cherry slushy, on your doting boyfriend’s dime. 

You win some, you lose some. 

The losing being the terrible affect the heat currently had on you now that you were laying out in the back of Eddie’s van now, parked at Lover’s Lake, the water doing nothing to cool the smothering breeze enveloping you two. 

“So, did you bring me all the way out here to kill me, or just stare at the lake all night?” you ask after taking another sip of the tart frozen treat currently cooling both your mouth and palms. It’s melting fast, the plastic cup holding it never standing a chance against your body heat mingling with the summer air. 

Eddie had insisted upon coming straight to the lake after the gas station. Urging you to walk back to the van faster as he’d held a cup in each hand; one blue raspberry slushy, and one mystery styrofoam cup he refused to admit just what it contained. 

As Eddie speaks, you can see his purple stained tongue, “Who says I’m gonna kill ya?” 

“All the movies,” you drawl, stretching your legs out in front of you, the soles of your sandals not even reaching the edge of the van. The thrown-open doors sway ever so slightly in the wind, “Why else would you bring me here, so far away from civilization?” 

“So no one could hear you.” 

You can’t help the laugh that immediately slips out. You nearly choke on your straw you’d lifted back up to your lips, side-eyeing him through a few wild coughs. 

“Excuse me?” 

He clearly hadn’t processed what he’d just said, because his eyes go wide as he attempts to backtrack, “Wait, wait, wait! No! I just- I didn’t mean-” he pauses and sighs, leaning his head back to wipe a frustrated palm over his face, “Oh my God, sweetheart, I’m not going to kill you. I didn’t mean it in a murderer way – I meant it in a horny way.” 

The horny comment nearly goes entirely over your head, “You’re not going to kill me? That’s something a murderer would say- wait, did you just say you meant it in a horny way?”

You both stare at each other for a short while, matching blown out pupils and chests rising in sync as you both suck in impossible bursts of parching oxygen only to blow them out in rapid successions. 

“I did,” he finally breathes out, timidly reaching behind him, revealing that styrofoam cup once more. 

Not even a drop of sweat on it yet. It’s holding up tremendously better than your slushies had. 

“What’s in the cup?”

You’re feeling bold, ignoring the pooling perspiration at the nape of your neck as you scoot yourself a bit closer, fighting a smile. 

“Well, I know the heat bothers you a lot…”

“Right.”

“And I was trying to think of ways to cool you down…”

“Of course.”

“But also just take your mind off of it, in general.”

“That all sounds great, Eddie,” you lean forward, slushy cup pressing into your kneecap as you reach forward for the mystery cup. Eddie is quick to fling his arm up, keeping it far out of your reach, “But what’s in that damn cup?”

Instead of answering right away, he grins slowly, wiggling his eyebrows comically until you roll your eyes at him. 

“Fine, keep your secr-”

“Lay back for me, baby.”

He purrs out the command, the sweet nickname a cherry on top. 

In a blink of an eye, your joking boyfriend has vanished, someone more confident and commanding in his place. A sight to see, really. There’s only a few times you’re awarded the sight: when Eddie is navigating you through crowded bars with a steady hand pressed to your lower back, when Eddie is hosting his weekly DnD nights that you’ve earned a lifetime invite to, when Eddie is on a stage and entirely within his element as his first sweetheart hangs from his shoulders.

And whenever he has you like this, already compliant and doe-eyed, a toying smile tugging at your lips as you follow through with his demands. 

It’s a welcome switch, a welcome presence. 

“Good girl,” he awards you softly, and you have to choke back a giggle. 

He was just a stuttering mess, defending himself like a clumsy fool. An adorable dork pulling at your heart strings. And now, he’s a vision of assuredness. Of determination. 

It’s hot. It’s great. It’s enough to get your mind off the dwindling summer heat that rises around the lake’s perimeter. 

“So,” he continues, popping the lid off the cup finally. There’s not a sign of liquid nearing the rim of the cup where you can see, and your face twists in a bit of confusion, “Here’s what’s going to happen – here I have a wonderfully not melted cup of ice,” he tilts it, and you can finally see the pebbled ice cubes. Suddenly, the entire situation has become significantly less funny, “And you’re clearly in need of a cool down. See where I’m going with this, sweetheart?” 

You do. But it’s more fun to play dumb. 

“I don’t think I do,” you sigh out, stretching so that your tank top rises and exposes your midriff, “Might need a demonstration.” 

It’s a vibrant green light for him – he’s quick to set the cup aside and focus all his efforts on undressing you. Hands that are still shaking – because it’s Eddie and his hands will always shake when it comes to you – and eager fingers tracing lines over your hips before he fiddles with the button of your jean shorts. Taking his time with each caress, murmuring words that strike flames within the pit of your stomach, a more welcome internal warmth than what the summer offers. 

He pauses once the shirt and shorts have been discarded, and you almost think for a moment, he might begin to pepper soft kisses across your exposed skin. 

He doesn’t. 

He grabs the styrofoam cup once more instead, keeping eye contact with you as he pulls an ice cube out. Before he formally places it between his lips, he pauses, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes as he instructs, “Think you can stay still for me, baby?” 

Funny how easy it is to turn to stone until someone requests it of you. 

The ice cube is slotted between his lips, pretty and pink as they wrap around the salvation that quickly starts to melt. A drip of water is already running down his chin by the time he’s leaning down over your body, not yet touching your spasming abdomen, just hovering as he watches the way your body fights against his instruction. 

No words are needed – even if he could speak with the ice in his mouth – as his eyes flick up to yours. Arson umber pupils that command you silently. 

Stay still, they whisper. And you try to – you really, really try to. 

The first drop of cold water hits your skin as it shakes from restraint, from stuttering breaths, from anticipation. He’s teasing you; he’s taking his time as he grows closer and closer to properly pressing the cube and his lips against you. You swear, for just a moment, this entire grand idea was doing the opposite of its purpose. Heat was radiating off of you in waves, with no plans of cooling down any time soon. 

And then his lips are on your skin. 

Sweet relief, chills racing down the spine, a sigh slipping past your lips as your back arches desperately. He’s pinpointed the exact center between your hips, just below your navel, with everything you’ve begun to crave. Lips losing their heat with every passing second and the tip of the cube trail around in a lazy circle as he keeps looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, corners of his mouth twitching with the temptation of a smile when your fingers tangle in the roots of his hair. You have half the mind to completely undo his already ruined bun – you have half the mind to guide him to exactly where you need him most. 

“Fuck,” you gasp out, voice barely a hiccup over the cicadas. It feels nice, it feels good. 

The stifle of the van’s air is all but forgotten as he just keeps trailing the ice along your skin, letting it slowly melt until there’s nothing left but the remnants of a chill on his tongue and lips. And he takes those frozen lips, quickly putting them to use as he lets them drag along a pathway to your left hip. No rush. You’ve both got all the time in the world as he presses a hard kiss to that hip, lips pursing and sucking a bit before he shifts to make his way to the right one instead. 

Teasing, taunting, relieving. 

By the time he’s made it to the other hip, the heat has begun to creep back up. 

“You look real pretty like this, you know?” he asks you, hand shooting out blindly to get another ice cube, “Just laying here for me, sighing all cutely and shit,” your fingers tighten in his hair, “Oh, do you like that, baby? Like me calling it how I see it?” 

It’s in his confident tone. The buzz shooting straight through your brain that drowns out the sounds of summer when he talks to you like this. Every syllable has you preening for more of his affection, his attention, his approval. 

You’re finally dizzy with want and need rather than summertime sickness. 

“You’re a fucking vision,” his breath is hot against you as he says it, waiting for just a moment before he lifts up and yanks his shirt off with boyish charm. When he settles back between your legs, he makes a point to lay the backs of your bare thighs against his naked shoulders, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin, “I would do anything for you. Fucking anything. Say the word, and it’s yours.” 

Right as he places another ice cube in his mouth, dropping cool fingertips that are wet with condensation to trail from the peak of your knee and down, you take him at his word.

You say the word. 

“Kiss me,” you beg.

“Where?”

Not a taunt. Just a clarification. The game is up, and you both know it.

“There.”

“We’re not teenagers,” he snorts, voice a bit garbled as he passes the ice from cheek to cheek, “Use your big girl words.” 

This time, your hand is his hair does remove the bun entirely, hairtie lost somewhere recklessly to be found later as thick curls wrap around your fist. “Jesus Christ, I want you to kiss me on my fucking pussy, Eddie. Is that what you want to hear? Quit teasing and-” 

“Your pussy?” he interrupts, eyes darkening ever so slightly, tsking slightly, “No, no. That won’t do. Because from what I can see, this pussy is mine, sweetheart. She’s purring for me right now, dripping like these damn ice cubes-”

“Then kiss me on your damn pussy.”

Another ice cube is slotted between his lips, one you hadn’t noticed him grabbing, and he does exactly as he’s told. 

The cold shocks you initially, nearly making your hips jump away from his touch entirely. But you can’t as his forearm comes over to rest across the hips he’d just worshiped, other hand tightly gripping onto the flesh of any thigh he can grab onto, pulling you tighter and closer to him. 

The same circles he had just trailed beneath your navel return in a new location, skimming your clit now. 

“Oh my God,” you whine, shoulder blades digging into the uncomfortable surface of the van’s floor below the makeshift padding of blankets, “Please, please.” 

He doesn’t tease you and ask you to spell out what you’re imploring of him this time. What small bit of the ice was left in his mouth slips out, slowly trailing down, down, down. Lighting a path of incessant mercy along its way as it skirts around your clit, ending up nearly slipping inside of you as it slows at your entrance. 

A cold, freezing trail of water left behind, and Eddie’s hot tongue is quick to follow it in reverse. 

He deliberately keeps it flat, avoiding filling you where you want it most. 

He’s still taking his time, moving slower than the cube has as he laps at your folds steadily. One long stride, and you’re squirming. The contrast between the heat of his mouth and the chill that the ice had left behind sends you whirling, stomach clenching as you let out more little gasps. 

It only eggs him on. 

He flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue to finish his path, moving back only to take a sharp breath of his own before his lips wrap around it and suck. 

The steady rhythm of suction elicits countless moans from you, all trailing off into desperate whispers, both hands fully buried in Eddie’s curls as he has to fight harder to keep your hips pressed down. Praises of his name, pants of keep going. Your vision blurs in a way that doesn’t send panic through your bones, and you welcome the tunnel vision as he lets go of his grip around your thigh to press his fingertips against your entrance. 

He mumbles something, a reverberating hum that has you clenching around nothing, but he’s not willful enough to take his mouth off you long enough to properly enunciate. 

“What - ah - what was that?” you breathe out, hardly able to get the words out around your pants as you feel that pressure building between your hips, desperate for release. 

Willpower in overdrive, he pulls himself away from being buried against you, “I said, I want you to come for me, sweetheart.” 

To emphasize his point, he plunges in two fingers, curling them in a petting motion that spells out your demise. 

Your body reacts to the words before your brain can catch up. That pressure, the ever growing knot building, building, building – it snaps within a second of his lips finding your clit again. 

His fingers, knuckle deep in your cunt. His nose, buried in your bush. The cold, still lingering with a vengeance against the odds. 

The sensory overload does you in. You feel weightless, unaware of just how hard you’re tugging on his curls or the slight rhythm he’s built with his own hips against the blankets below. The high rushes over you, drowning out everything in its path and wrapping you up just as the summer warmth had previously. And he’s relentless, carrying you through every wave, never once faltering. 

You understand what he’d said earlier – you’re glad no one can hear you at this moment as you throw away any false God and only say prayers in Eddie’s name. 

White vision fades to black, and your entire body goes slack as your eyes flutter shut in exhaustion. The sweat covering your body almost offers some relief as a breeze wiggles its way through the van’s back doors.

He crawls back up your body slowly, coming home to the space you allot him as you further spread your trembling thighs and he peppers the lightest of sincere kisses up your ribcage. Warm lips you feel drawing roadways until he’s finally lining them up your neck, your cheeks, your own hot lips. 

“Still with me?” 

You only hum in response, hand feeling blindly to lightly caress his bare back. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, breath fanning out against your temple as he places a last few kisses, just because. 

When you finally force your heavy lids back open, you’re welcomed to the sight of whiskey eyes and a soft nose, shining for a reason only the two of you know. You swear, you can’t decipher if the pink smattering across his cheeks and bridge of his nose is from the heat, or from a  proper blush at the sight of you. 

It makes your insides melt more than any hot summer day. 

“It worked,” is all you laugh out, pads of your fingers still pressing softly into the smooth skin of his shoulder blades, a weak attempt to bring him closer. 

“It worked?” 

“You took my mind off the heat.” 

His lashes might be fluttering even more than your own, hips lowering against yours, heavy and bated as you come back down to Earth. You swear he’s never been prettier than he is right now, with you all over his mouth and bangs sticking to his forehead from the sweat. 

You almost card your fingers through them, expose the spanse of skin beneath just to offer the softest of kisses in return to him. Almost. 

“Good,” he grins with a boyish mirth, looking overly accomplished, “Did you ever even doubt me?” 

“Maybe.”

Your teasing tone has him poking out a tongue that’s a few shades lighter of purple than before, him finally rolling his body off of the top of yours. 

“I’ll give you a minute,” he jokes, throwing his head back as your eyes follow. You can see a bead of sweat making its way down his cheekbone, slipping away into his hairline, “And then I’ll fuck that doubt away.” 

Your stomach flutters as your eyes wander, taking in his exposed neck, following the creases in his skin down his chest. The way his stomach shakes a little with each breath, and the way you zero in on each quiver of that dark line of hair starting at his navel and disappearing into the band of his pants. 

The very obvious, very strained bulge within his pants. 

Suddenly, an idea comes to mind. 

You sit up a bit faster than is smart, and you ignore the stars in your vision as you quickly situate yourself to perch by his hip. He starts to lift himself back up, hands already flying out to keep you steady, but you only swat them away as you lean over him to grab an ice cube out of the styrofoam cup. 

“I think I’ll need more than a minute,” you lie, pressing him back down fully, movements full of determination as he watches you with hooded eyes, “How about for now, I give you a taste of your own medicine, pretty boy?” 

The ice is slotted between your own lips, and the whine Eddie lets out is answer enough.

[moondirti]

Pleaaaase more farmer! Price, I BEG OF YOU

hybrid reader. mean price. brief daddy kink.

farmer price who is mercurial at his worst.

whose temper froths, bubbles beneath sun-hardened skin on market days, when he spends overlong lugging produce to and from his beat up truck. its the heat, or the sweat weaving his chest hair, or the customers who refuse to believe that, despite this year's asparagus being slightly paler than the lasts', it is still just as good. it's a medley of things, each marginally more vexing given their immutable nature. and where he's tailored patience like a glove — watering crops so that they may come alive in the next season, or moulding a perfectly credulous thing to his will — it does no good when his hands are tied.

he's keen to get home. unwind under the cool roof of his ranch. scrub the muck off and knock back a glass of scotch. the august sun might be beastly to work underneath, but he admits it makes for a pleasant sight as it sets. you're so easily awed, at least, bleating softly when he combs his fingers around your ears and calls out marigold rays. it's just the thing to make up for his day. a drink, a view, and a fuzzy pussy to occupy his hands with.

only you're not indulgent. not soft on the idea of sitting still for hours as you're swung to and from the precipice of climax. a strange restlessness has worked its way through your blood in the past week, spoiling the docility that keeps his collar fastened firm around your neck. he credits it to the encroach of autumn. expectation, leaden on your dumbed conscience, that you'll soon be bred and plump with lambs. the swollen heat between your legs is enough signal to the fact, bucking up into his hand when he pets it.

but if not that, then it's the little feet kicking off his lap, disturbing the stable footing he lends to your bottom. it’s the way your fat thighs quiver, locking around his hand to keep him there, to keep his callouses grinding against your clit. and despite the layer of soaked wool nested along your lips, the squelches of your over-eager cunt are clear in the conditioned air. loud, lewd. sticky sounding when he buffs his heavy fingers over the hard bud poking out.

“y’proud of this? huh?” he grunts, singling on that one point where your nerve ending are too exposed. too concentrated. it must be torture when the rough pad of his thumb swipes over it, skinning you alive, flaying you open so that you’re a steaming mess on his lap. damp baby hairs mat by your crown, smelling of salt when he presses a curled lip to your temple. “dumb little lamb. can’t think of anyone ‘cept yourself, mm? making a mess on daddy’s lap after he’s had such a hard day. i should slap this needy thing silly, ‘till you can’t piss without regrettin’ it. call in kyle to tear you apart to his heart’s content. he’s been good lately. deserves it.”

“nnngh! s’too mu- muhh.”

but he thrusts two fingers into your tense hole anyway, feeling you up from the inside. the heat between your legs, the hot fervour of it sucking his fingers deeper, rapidly blossoms up your body. his chest itches with the sweat seeping off your back, beard soaking in the puddle of it that pools off your neck. he would have it in him to be worried, but today is not that sort of day.

the heel of his hand makes good work of kneading into your clit, the poor thing throbbing under the crushing pressure. it all grows to be too much, too fast. you’d been begging for something gentle, no doubt. a merciful address to a heat you can’t control, this recurring cycle of which he was already made aware of. but you’ve been with him long enough to know better.

if this were his break day, he might have stuffed you with a toy. fed your whines with his cock. wiped your tears with scarred knuckles, and kissed your eyes shut as you worked through your desperation.

if it were autumn, if the weather were any cooler, and mating season brought with it a new, soft coat of wool and the right conditions for your pregnancy — including the freeing of his time — he might have even laid you down on the hardwood floors and given you what you so desperately crave.

but for now, he’s holding out, waiting, keeping his little lamb in line.

just as good farmers do.

(and if it hurts, that’s fine. he doesn’t expect an animal to understand, anyway.)