#but i jumped out of it again to console him

[lucifermorningstxr]

Although he was prepared for whatever the night would throw at him, that didn't make it any easier for Lucifer to see Chloe like this. It didn't take the skills of a Jedi to see see was hurting over everything right now, and yet here she was, consoling him over his shame. "No, I know Detective. I know. It has been twelve hours..." He nodded reassuringly at her, his gaze set on hers. "We didn't really have for fun, you know, with my keeping the scene in one piece. This may come as a shock to you, but Eve had absolutely no idea what she was doing." Sarcasm, Lucifer's crutch. One of them, at least. But it was true, as was everything he'd ever said.

But now it was Lucifer's turn to soothe Chloe.

"You're right, Detective. I don't like it. I don't like any of this, of these past nine months. But I get it, and I understand it. In fact, I agree." He, in turn, rests his hands on her comfortingly. "If anyone wants to take this slow, it's me. I don't want to mess this up again, Detective. To mess us up. I know I've been unpredictable in the past, but I really want to do this time differently. Because, the truth is... every time I ran away, it was because I was avoiding the inevitable rejection myself. So while what you did recently really, really hurt me, if I'm honest... and you know I only ever am... I know I've hurt you just as much, and I want to stop that. More than anything."

Lucifer took Chloe's nervous hands in his to calm her fidgeting as he continued. "Most of the day I was managing Eve. I'd been questioning us for some time, but I never had the courage to act on it until that chat we had in the car. At least that's when it started, and today, your 'blow up' was the last straw. Rather, it was the reassurance of support I needed to know I'd be okay without her, without settling. Because that's what you've always done for me, Detective. You show me I deserve more than I think I do. I'm not sure if I deserve you, that's besides the point, but my plan is to stay around if you'll have me." He looks up at her with a look of total honesty, vulnerability, and a bit of pleading. It was humiliating, but it's only his human, so he'd be okay.

After what Chloe had said next, Lucifer was only ever more certain of his true desire to work his hardest to make this work with her.

"No, no... that's just it, Detective. That's why I like you so bloody much. Eve, Candy, the Britneys... where are they now, and where am I? I'm here, with the 'boring,'" He does air quotes for emphasis. "Chloe Decker because she's the one I want to spend my time with. She's the shoe to my pair, the one who taught me by example to be myself unabashedly, the one who has shown me that my, albeit extraordinarily glamourous, life could have more substance to it, and that's all because of you. You've shown me how exciting things can really be. You made me vulnerable, for Dad's sake, Detective! Don't you see how special that is?" Now Lucifer was the one rambling, being mushy and sappy once again, but it was the truth, and she obviously needed to hear his honesty right now. "And as far as I'm concerned, it's the past. I can't think of anyone I trust more... you saw me cry, Detective. Nobody sees the Devil cry, but you have. Are we perfect? No, unfortunately, I suppose we aren't, but we could be if we work together. So, I'm not jumping into anything, and neither should you, but I'm telling you what I want... what I truly desire. And that is to try this our damnedest."

Lucifer held Chloe even closer as she moved into him, pulling her so that they were lying back a little more in intimate comfort. "I don't need to have sex with you to know I want to keep going with you, Detective. Remember when we met, I'd always joke about getting you into bed, but when I had the chance, I turned you down because you're way more than a one night stand. You're way more than anything I've ever really had, so I'd like to figure out what exactly you are, what we are." Of course, speaking between kisses was his least favorite way to kiss, as he'd much rather be kissing his human than bearing his soul for far too many times that night, but again, it was necessary and he was ultimately happy to finally be in this place with her. Even so, the kisses were the sweetest he'd ever had, and he could go on for hours. In fact, as long as it didn't lead to more tonight, and if Chloe was okay with everything he'd just bore to her, he just might kiss her until they passed out.

Lucifer understood good and well the hesitation Chloe was feeling about everything after all that they'd been through, and while he respected it and even largely shared the same sentiments, he was more confident in them than ever before. If they were meant to do their damnedest to make it work between them, somehow, some way, they wouldn't be here together now. Even so, such a privilege was not to be abused, so Lucifer was more conscious of Chloe's body language than he'd ever been of anyone else's ever. So even as bombastic as the kiss was, no matter how badly he wanted every inch of her inside and out, forever and always, when she pulled back, as natural as it was, so did he, ever so gently. Not so gentle was the question his human posed next. It wasn't a pleasant one to answer, but the Devil understood it was a necessary one, and he could only answer honestly. "This morning, Detective..." He was a bit embarrassed by his answer, ashamed even, as he knew damn well he was squashing any and all chances of them going anywhere tonight, and likely tainting the moment they'd just had, but his honesty was a constant, and he wasn't going to start lying now, especially with his human and how far the pair had come. His gaze maintained hers, and he awaited her reply with an honesty in his eyes matching the moment.

[laligraves]

sweet angel agency

dark!joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.3k summary: Joel mistakes you for the escort he ordered. masterlist | AO3

warnings: dark!Joel, TLOU AU, noncon/dubcon (im so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), older!joel/no outbreak, not proofread, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, reader has hair joel can pull, reader can be picked up by joel, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: happy october! i have these three serial killer!joel WIPs i keep jumping between but idk which one to finish 😭 so i wrote this instead lol

“No, no, no. Shit!” 

Your car emits a loud creaking sound and begins to shake. Thinking quickly, you drive into a small cul-de-sac, away from the main road and fast cars. It rolls to a stop with one final groan, shutting off completely. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, “are you kidding me?” 

You grab your phone from the center console, noticing the 3% battery, and shoot a text to your friend that you’ll be late to the Halloween party. 

It dies as you press the send button and you throw it to the passenger seat in exasperation. You look around the rows of houses. There’s a Halloween event in the city, which probably explains the lack of cars in the driveways and the turned off porch lights. 

Well, all except one. 

A pickup truck with tools and materials in the bed, is parked in the driveway of a home. The porch light is on and you can see the flicker of the TV through the closed blinds. 

You hope the family is nice enough to let you use their phone or even if by some miracle, one of them knows how to fix your car. As you step out of the car and smooth down your dress, you pray they aren’t judgmental of your outfit choice. 

It’s a tiny, silk dress complete with angel wings and thigh high stockings. You pull the dress down in an effort to cover your thighs but it only brings it down from your chest, accentuating your tits. 

With no choices left, you ring the doorbell to the house. There’s no noise aside from the crickets and the TV, until you hear the heavy thuds of boots walking towards the door. 

It swings open, revealing a tall, older man. His hair and beard have streaks of gray and his brown eyes are lined with soft wrinkles. The button down he wears stretches over his broad chest and as he leans his arm on the door, the bottom of his shirt rises to show a slight belly and a happy trail. 

In other words, he's handsome. A quick scan of his left hand shows no wedding ring. 

You give him a pretty smile, not above using your looks to get what you want. 

“Hi,” you say as you give him your name, “sorry to bother you. My car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call a tow truck?” 

His eyes do a slow sweep of your body, lingering on the lacy band of your thigh highs, then back up to your eyes, 

“Didn’t realize you came with a story.” 

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Uh–story? What?” 

“And the angel costume… I guess that’s expected.” 

“May I use your phone?” you ask again.  

He pushes the front door wider, motioning for you to walk in. “It’s in the kitchen.” 

You walk inside and accidentally brush against his body. Aside from his confusing comments, the deep rumble of his voice caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You walk into the hallway, stopping at the entrance of the living room, waiting for him to lead you to the kitchen. 

“Are you… home alone or–” 

You feel his hand snake through your hair and pull you back into his chest. His other hand slips under your dress and cups your pussy, rubbing over the thin material of your panties. 

“What the fuck–” 

You lift your hands to scratch and push him away but he only holds you tighter. 

“Stop playin’ games, little girl,” he growls, “we both know why you’re here.” 

His fingers, rough and calloused even through your panties, glide over your panty-covered slit in rough strokes. You’re frozen in his arms, unsure of what to do. 

Your heart pounds fast in your chest and you feel warmth spread through your body. 

“I don’t–please, sir–” you stutter. 

His fingers slip into your panties and you bite your lip to muffle your moan. He swirls his middle finger at your entrance, gathering the slick that’s dripped out of you, and drags it up to circle your clit. 

You gasp, the sudden jolt of pleasure taking you by surprise. 

“So fuckin’ sensitive,” he growls, “can’t wait to sink my cock in ya’, angel.” 

Your hands try to dislodge his arms from around you, but he slips his hand around your neck and squeezes, cutting off your air supply. Your wings bend in his hold and the plastic middle digs into your back. 

“I told them I wanted you to call me Joel,” he murmurs, loosening his hand to allow you to breathe, “but I like sir.” 

“What are you talking about—” 

Joel interrupts you again, ripping your panties in a stinging snap and spinning your around to face him. You teeter and almost trip on your heels, but he crouches and swings you over his shoulder. 

He brings his hand down on your ass, ordering you to stop squirming, girl, while you feel the cool air brush on your naked cunt. 

Joel walks you through the hallway and into a room, dropping you on his bed. You try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your foot and yanks you back down. 

“No, please,” you cry, “I don’t know what this is–” 

“We won’t be needing these,” he says as he slips off your heels. 

“Sir–” 

Joel grabs the top of your dress and rips it half, maneuvering your body so he can untie your wings, leaving you in nothing but your stockings. 

You don’t like the way your belly tightens with each stroke of his rough hands over your heated skin or the way your cunt drips with need every time he calls you a pretty angel. 

He laughs at your attempts to kick or shove him away, and easily overpowers you. Joel pushes your hands back and nuzzles your breasts, gliding his nose over one, sliding to the other, until he suckles a peaked nipple into his mouth. 

It gets you to stop fighting and instead you whimper in his hold, pushing your chest up so he can get more of your plump flesh into his mouth. 

He makes room for himself between your thighs, grinding down his bulge onto your bare pussy. The rough material of his jeans contrasts the softness of his mouth and your brain short circuits. 

“Always the same with you sluts,” he growls, “beggin’ me to stop but look at ya’, soakin’ my jeans.” 

Joel props himself up, giving a kiss to the tip of each breast, and holds your mouth open with rough fingers to shove your panties inside. With your now torn dress, he uses the silk to tie your hands together. 

“Can’t get away from me now, little girl. You’re all mine.” 

Your knees are bent and thighs spread open, giving him a perfect view of your cunt. He uses one hand to thumb your tiny hole while the other unbuckles his belt. 

“Prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” Joel says, “gonna make a mess in it.” 

Joel pushes his jeans down and fists his cock, squeezing the thick length in his hand. A pulse starts in your cunt at the sight and you unconsciously tighten your inner muscles.

You push the inappropriate thoughts out of your head, reminding yourself that this is a stranger, one that you wanted help from–but the dribble of pre-cum on his purple tip makes your mouth water. 

His cock is thick, angry-looking, and curved slightly. A patch of curly hair, silver streaked just like his head, covers his base. 

Joel slips a single finger inside of you and you both groan, him from the snug fit and you from the stretch. Your back arches and you cry out from behind the gag. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs, “how am I gonna fit in here, angel?” 

He slides his finger out and notches the tip of his cock to your slick entrance. You cry, no, no, please, through your gag, but your resolve slowly slips. 

Joel holds your thighs open and thrusts in with one firm push, lodging himself to the hilt. It takes you a few moments to react, but you scream behind the gag.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, “that’s—fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect.” 

You flutter around his length, trying to accommodate his size, feeling every veiny and bumpy ridge on his cock. 

He stills, clutching your thighs and sliding his fingers beneath the lace band of your stockings.

“Grippin’ me so well, angel,” Joel groans, grinding down. “Meant to be, yeah?” 

No, you scream in your head, but your body quivers in excitement and you breathe in the scent of his cologne and sweat, wanting him but, at the same time remembering how you ended up here.  

“Look at cha’,” he laughs, “impatient little thing. Already fuckin’ herself on my cock.” 

You try to deny it, that you’re currently not swiveling your hips, bouncing with the little room you have, trying to get him to move, but it’s no use. You’re chasing the warmth that simmers in your belly and you purposefully clench around his length.  

Joel moves slowly, sliding out, watching the flicker of emotions on your face. 

It barely fits, and it borders on pain. But the heat in your pussy only grows with each growl or moan that spills from his mouth. 

You’re embarrassingly wet, making it so much easier for him to pound into you. He watches your joined bodies, eyes half closed but focused on the way your inner lips grip him, on how your slick drowns him from tip to base. 

“Should I keep you, little girl?” Joel groans. “Chain you to my bed so you never leave?” 

The image flashes in your mind—you, naked and sweaty, covered in his cum and spit, completely at his mercy. 

He doesn’t need a verbal answer to know the idea excites you. Little slut, he says, as your inner muscles tighten around him. 

Joel pushes your hands above your head and presses his face into the exposed column of your neck. He stretches over you, trapping you under his heavy weight. 

Even if this isn’t the first time you’ve been fucked—it is the first time you’ve been fucked like this. The sounds you make, whines, screams, pretty whimpers that have him holding you tighter and fucking you harder—it’s all new. 

“Deep,” he whispers in your ear, “so goddamn deep.” 

There’s something strangely intimate about this. He stays fully clothed, only giving you his bare cock to feel, while you lay beneath him, completely nude except for the thigh highs.  

Joel, if that even is his name, is a complete stranger. Yet he pounds into you like he owns you. 

His lips trail from your neck, licking the droplets of sweat that gather on your skin, leaving kisses on the corner of your mouth, uncaring of the drool from your gag. 

Your thoughts jumble from the overstimulation and soon you’re sobbing, filled with his big cock, dominated by the sheer force of his entire being. 

“So fuckin’ tiny,” Joel grunts, “take me cock, little girl. Take it, take it.” 

His breathing becomes erratic and he thrusts harsher, hauling your thigh higher so he can move quicker. He’s close. It might be your mind playing tricks or, his cock could actually be swelling inside of you, ready to fill you with his cum. 

His thumb swipes over your clit in fast circles and you ripple around his length, coming in sticky, wet spurts. Your scream, caught by surprise by the pressure of your orgasm. You tremble and cry in his hold, squeeze him hard enough that he groans in pain. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, “gonna make this pussy mine.” 

And he does. Joel fills your clenching, little hole with his cum, spilling his seed in your unprotected womb. You remember too late that you’re no longer on birth control, but it’s no use. You have no way to stop him from painting your cunt white, so you let him make a mess inside of you. 

His hips piston with enough force to sink you into the mattress. You’re not quite sure if your orgasm ever ended, but your cunt pulses with another wave as Joel fucks the rest of his spend inside of you. 

“All full of me, little girl,” he murmurs, dropping down to lay partially on top of you. 

You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, or maybe for the next few days. Your entire body feels sore and your mind is delirious. 

Joel gently slides out of you and places a kiss on your chin. He unties the silk from your hands and removes the wet panties from your mouth. You hear him walk out of the room, but fall asleep before you’re able to drink the glass of water he brings you. 

-

Joel’s POV.

He’s glad he followed Tommy’s advice and switched to a new escort agency. 

The others aren’t usually so responsive or reactive to his touch. They’ll play along to his fantasy, throw out a few no, please stop, but it never feels real. 

You’re different. 

You kicked, scratched him, drew blood from his skin. It felt real, bringing out the primal side of him that he’s so desperately tried to repress. 

Joel walks into the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and his phone, intending to order you food, when he sees an email from Sweet Angel Agency sent almost two hours ago. 

Dear Mr. Joel Miller, 

We apologize for the late notice but our Angel will not be able to make it to your residence tonight. We will be providing you with a full refund. Please wait 2-3 business days to see that reflected in your bank account. 

For any further questions or to schedule another appointment, please contact us. 

Thank you, 

Sweet Angel Agency

“Who the fuck is in my bedroom?” Joel says after reading the email. 

But as he walks back into the room and sees you spread out on his bed, your inner thighs soaked with your combined juices, marking your heated skin in white and clear streaks, Joel realizes he doesn’t really care. 

He strips out of his sweaty clothes and climbs onto the bed with you. Now that he knows you aren’t from the agency, there’s no reason to let you go just yet. 

- - -

a/n: i know there are probably a few fics out there with similar tropes however if anything in this one is similar in plot to another, it is purely by coincidence! i would never steal someone’s work and i appreciate each and every fic writer out there who does these for free and takes time out of their day to give us amazing fics 🤍

[uluvjay]

Please, please, please-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which Lando takes care of you after a night out.

Warnings?: alcohol consumption, drunkenness, kissing, talks of sex, mentions of flashing, prob some errors, not the best ending, got the idea from tik tok so everyone say thank you Alix Earle for breaking my writers block!!!

Lando swore he was only turned around for a second, him and max weren’t talking for long before his best friend was laughing and pointing behind Lando’s shoulder with a shocked expression on his face.

Turning around Lando’s jaw dropped at the sight of you standing on top of the bar, your Louboutin heels stranded on the ground below you as you screamed the lyrics to Sabrina carpenter’s newest song.

With a laugh lando made his way back towards you, “Y/n!”

Your body spins at the sound of his voice, glazed eyes staring down at him as a large smile took over your face right as your favorite part played through the speakers.

“Heartbreak is one thing, my egos another. I beg you don’t embarrass me motherfucker.” You sang as your body swayed, foot pointing at lando as you sang the lyrics.

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shenanigans, his head shaking as you turned around again, your back once again facing Lando.

“Baby! please get down, it’s not safe up there.” He called once again.

“Fineee.” You whined as you turned back to him with a pout going to sit down on the bar in order to get down however the Brit found himself launching forward to stop your movements the second he caught sight of your panties due to your position.

Confusion grew on your face as he gripped your waist and pulled you off the counter himself, your hands shooting out to steady yourself on his shoulders.

“Lando!” You scolded as he placed you on the ground and picked up your heals from the ground along with your clutch.

However your drunken nature proved that to be impossible as you began to whine about your feet hurting leaving the boy no choice but to pick you up bridal style and carry you out of the bar.

“What was that for?” You groaned into his neck as you began to place sloppy kisses on the skin.

“You almost flashed everyone in our section darling.” He breathed.

“Oops” you spoke but the giggled that followed had Lando quickly realizing how far gone you truly were.

You were silent for the rest of the walk to the valet and as lando sat you in your seat before walking over to the drivers side of his Uris, making sure you were both buckled tightly before heading home.

“Can I see your phone?” You asked softly.

“Right in the console”

He laughed at the squeal that escaped you, watching for a second as your hand moved towards the volume nozzle and you turned it up almost as loud as his speakers would allow.

Soon the familiar tune of “Please Please Please” began to play throughout the car, your voice quickly following Sabrina’s as you serenaded your boyfriend.

Lando jumped at the feeling of your hand on his jaw as he rolled to a stop at the light, your hand turning his head towards you as you sang out to him.

“And I have a fun idea babe, maybe just stay inside. I know you’re craving some fresh air But the ceiling fan is so nice.” You sang, finger pointed at him as you leaned closer and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips.

Some people might have found you to be too much when drunk but lando loved it, he adored the way your affection was always on level 100, and how you seemed to giggle at every little thing, how you were unashamedly yourself.

Your small concert continued until Lando pulled into his parking spot in the garage and turned the car off, a cry of annoyance leaving your lips as the song was cut off.

“Sorry baby, time to go to inside.” He smiled softly as he unbuckled both of you and exited the car before helping you out and holding onto you tightly as he walked you into the house.

He walked you into your shared room, placing your heels down before coming behind you to unzip your dress.

“Ohhh, is it sexy time?” You smirked at the feeling of his fingers on your dress.

Lando giggled at the tone of your voice, doing your absolute best to sound seductive despite your slurring.

“Nah not tonight baby, but I promise to take care of you tomorrow if you’re feeling up for it.” He apologized, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade before allowing the dress to fall to the floor.

He moved across the room to the dresser to pull out one of his shirts for you to sleep in and by the time he turned back around you had already stripped your bra and had your arms raised in order for him to pull the shirt over your head.

“Are you sure we can’t have sexy time?” You pouted once you were dressed in his shirt, your arms wrapping around his neck as his came to hold your waist.

“I’m very sure, now let’s go take your makeup off and brush our teeth.” He spoke placing a small kiss to your lips before lifting you off of your feet and carrying you towards the bathroom.

Settling you on the counter he pulled out your makeup remover and cotton rounds, dousing two in remover he began to gently rub your skin.

“You looked so handsome tonight.” You spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, love when you wear your shirts like that.” You nodded, lip pulled between your teeth as your eyes ran up and down his body.

“Thought I looked like a slut when I opened them like this?” He laughed, bringing up your joke from before you two headed out for the night.

“Well yeah but you’re my slut.” You shrugged.

He shook his head at your words, his signature giggle bouncing off the walls of your large bathroom.

“And that’s all I ever wanna be darling, all yours.” He cooed, lips connecting with yours once again.

“Good because I’m not letting you leave.” You replied, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling his body closer to yours.

“Ever?”

“Nope.” You said popping the p, eyes locking with his, “Your stuck with me forever pretty boy.”

“I can deal with that.” He smirked before giving you a lingering kiss, the taste of your choice of alcohol for the night filling his senses.

“Mm, yep let’s get those teeth brushed, all I can taste is vodka.” He spoke causing both of you to break out in giggles.

Many people didn’t care for nights where they had to take care of their drunken partners but you’d never catch Lando complaining about it, even if you spent fifteen minutes with the same song on repeat as you screamed the lyrics, he’d never trade in moments like those for anything else.

After brushing both of your teeth Lando carried you to bed and tucked you in before stripping his own clothes until he was only in his boxers, your wolf whistle making his body shake with laughter before he joined you in bed.

“Get over here you muppet.” He smiled pulling your body closer to his, sighing contently as you snuggled into his side, leaving a small peck to his chest before he quickly hear your soft breathing fill the room.

He placed one last kiss to your head before allowing sleep to over take his own body.

-

[rambling-at-midnight]

When the Truth Comes Out

Request: Reader asks, "So, when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I hope I did your prompt justice!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: It’s been three and a half years since Jason asked you out, and he knows you’re the one. He knows every part of you, the good and bad, and loves it all. The problem is that you don’t know everything about him… and his secrets may ruin everything.

Word count: 3.5k

Jason’s never been one to window shop, but lately he’s been noticing the glint of jewelry.

You give him a weird look when he stumbles in the middle of the department store. It’s because a ring display caught him off guard like a punch to the gut, but he can’t explain that, so Jason waves off your concerned questioning.

You give him a weird look before turning back to the toy aisle. The two of you spent the morning bickering over what present to give Damian for Christmasukkah. You want to give him a keyboard to learn piano, but Jason’s sure that Damian would be happier receiving an art kit. He knows violin, which is a strings instrument, not whatever the piano is. Besides, the kid’s a brat. He’d want a full-size grand piano that originally belonged to Mozart or some shit and costs a hundred thousand dollars, which isn’t exactly pocket cash for the two of you.

And, sure, Jason’s got one of Bruce’s credit cards in his wallet—Bruce offered to give him one in Jason’s name, but it was the principle of using the stolen card, so Jason turned him down—but he’d be damned before he spoiled the kid any more than he already is.

He keeps his eyes firmly on you after that. It’s where they’re supposed to be, anyway.

You end up getting the keyboard after surreptitiously checking your bank account against your projected budget several times. It’s funny. After three years, you still think you can hide stuff like that from Jason. Probably because he pretends not to notice. He makes a mental note to stop by your landlord’s and see if the Red Hood can make any suggestions about lowering rent for your building.

As the two of you walk out of the store, a cold gust of wind tries to steal your breath away. You step closer to Jason, cold fingers twining with his, and he easily drapes an arm over your shoulders to keep you close. “Was that the last one?”

“I think so,” you reply, checking your list again. “The keyboard for Damian, massage gun for Dick, matching pajamas for Cass and Steph, Pokemon expansion pack for Duke, and the fuzzy socks for Tim.”

The socks are decorated with the words ‘I BREACHED CONTAINMENT’ in black stitching. Jason saw them in a tourist trap he saved from a D-list rogue and remembered how Tim looked like the bog monster after falling into the sewers the day before. They’ve been sitting in his closet since the end of August.

“I have too many siblings,” Jason sighs.

“Have you figured out what you’re giving Bruce?”

Jason bites his lip.

You say, “Ah. Well, you still have a couple days.”

Yeah. Jason has two. He’d been supposed to look out for anything to catch his eye in the store, but all he noticed was the stupid ring display.

He opens the car door for you, then shoves the keyboard in its box into the backseat and starts the engine. Jason drives home one-handed. The other holds yours loosely over the console. You’re checking your bank account again on your phone, frowning slightly, thumb brushing up and down Jason’s palm. He keeps an eye on you as he drives, playing idly by squeezing your fingers one by one until you have to try to hide a smile by looking out the window. 

He doesn’t let go of your third finger. Something nags at the back of his mind, like—

Jason realizes that he’s trying to find a ring, and his heart stops. The car jumps forward when he slams on the gas, and he drops your hand to put both of his on the wheel as he swerves around a minivan. You let out a startled yelp, hands flying out for something to grab onto. The stupid keyboard slides off the back seat and into the footwell.

Two cars lay on their horns when he nearly sideswipes them. Jason responds with an emphatic middle finger and cuts across three lanes to get away. The poor car doesn’t respond as well to his driving as his motorcycle does, and the engine whines as he leaves the other cars in the dust until he eases off.

As soon as the car reaches a relatively normal speed, you say, “Jay! What just happened?”

“Sorry,” is all he can say, keeping both arms stiff on the wheel. “Sorry, honey.”

“You okay?”

“‘M good. You good?”

“I’m okay, I was just…” You keep looking at him, and Jason’s skin prickles. Do you know? Can you tell?

Jason creaks like old wood, but he pulls back his right arm and puts his hand on the console, palm up. After a moment, you put your left overtop it. He can feel your pulse racing through the thin skin of your wrist.

He squeezes.

You squeeze back.

The day before Christmas, Jason still doesn’t know what to give Bruce. He’d hoped that baking would fix the block, but as he abuses the poor sopapilla dough, he’s no further to any answers.

You’re at the counter, offering moral support but not physical help. Jason’s a bit of a control freak in the kitchen when he’s anxious.

He’s not anxious. He’s not! It doesn’t matter if he gives Bruce something for Chrismukkah. Bruce doesn’t even celebrate Christmas. ‘Not trying to kill him’ is probably a good enough present.

Or the sopapillas. Sure, everyone’s bringing a dish, but no one said it couldn’t also be Jason’s present. But if he goes that route, then the pastries have to be perfect, and the last batch didn’t fluff up the way they did when Catherine made them.

“Jay,” you say after another five minutes of Jason punching dough that is already thoroughly kneaded.

“Yes, love?”

“I think the oil might be ready.”

Judging by the hiss and pops behind him, it is, and has been for several minutes.

Jason tries his best to follow his mother’s actions through his memory, but this batch doesn’t turn out right, either.

“Here,” he says wearily, placing the overflowing plate in front of you. “Let ‘em cool off.”

You wait as long as you can, fingers drumming on the counter as you watch tiny curls of steam drift up from the pile of pastries. Finally, you give in. “Oh my gosh,” you say around a mouthful that was a little too hot, judging by your wince. “Jay, these are amazing.”

“It’s not right, though,” he argues.

“Jay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but these are better than your last batch.”

He shakes his head stubbornly.

“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” you decide. “But really, if you bring these tomorrow, no one will complain. If they do…” You hold up a fist and shake it, mustering up (what you think is) a ferocious scowl.

Jason’s lips twitch. “What if Damian complains? Are you prepared to hit a child?”

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” you say. “I live in Gotham. I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Despite himself, Jason laughs. He picks up one of the pastries from the dish and bites into it. They could have used more honey. Maybe that was the problem. But you’re right. These are good, and if they’re not, so what? It’s not like Bruce expects much from him anyway.

Jason’s chest squeezes.

Bruce should just be grateful that Jason is there at all.

Fuck.

It’s getting too hard to deny. Despite all his best efforts, Jason has to admit… maybe he does love his family.

It’s the first holiday season where he hasn’t been incandescent with rage toward one of them or another, and he’d underestimated just how nervous he would be. Despite everything that happened between them, he wants tomorrow to go well. The first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas this year, which hasn’t happened for about twenty years. It’ll be Damian’s third Chrismukkah and the first where everyone is in attendance—Jason wasn’t on speaking terms with the family his first year, and Bruce was in the time stream and Tim was across the world last year.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hmm.”

You swallow without making eye contact, and if he was paying even a little bit more attention, he would have known to prepare himself for what you said next.

“When are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

Jason is a selfish asshole. It’s a miracle that you haven’t figured that out yet after three years of dating him. He half-expects to come back to the apartment to find his stuff in bags. That’s the main reason he’s still out in the cold.

He’s in the middle of another drag when a teasing voice says from behind, “Ooh, must have been a rough day.”

Jason’s hand twitches for his gun, but he recognizes the voice. So he only rolls his eyes and says around the cigarette, “What do you want?”

“Your partner asked me to check up on you. Apparently you looked pretty freaked when you took off.”

Fuck. Jason groans. “How worried did they seem?”

“Ummm….”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kind of messed up.” Spoiler sits next to him, dangles her legs over the side of the roof, and lets them swing idly. “Or they messed up. I thought you quit smoking?”

He exhales a thick plume of smoke. “I did,” Jason says. Dying from smoke inhalation was bad once, but a habit is a habit.

“If it makes you feel any better, they seemed more concerned about you. Not, like, mad or anything.”

Well, that’s something.

“So what happened?”

Jason grunts. Maybe if he stares into the horizon long enough, Spoiler will give up. That was the technique Batman always used when Robin asked the tough questions like, ‘Why am I going home early so you can interrogate Catwoman on your own?’

It only worked sometimes.

Unfortunately, Spoiler seems immune.

Jason grunts and drops the butt of his cigarette. He itches for another, but you’ll already wrinkle up your nose at the smell of one. And, shit, what are you even going to think about him high-tailing it out after that question, leaving for hours, and coming back stinking of smoke?

“I’m a fucking idiot. And an asshole.”

Spoiler huffs. “Everyone already knows that, dumbass. They certainly do.”

“Thanks,” Jason says drily.

“Anytime!” she chirps.

Her heels beat against the side of the building.

She’s not leaving anytime soon, so Jason sighs and gives in. “They asked when I was planning on proposing.”

Spoiler gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yep.”

“So you’re engaged?”

“What? No.”

“What?”

“They asked when I would propose. That wasn’t a proposal… I don’t think so. I mean, there wasn’t a ring,” Jason says helplessly.

Spoiler socks him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Damn, but the girl can pack a punch. He rubs at the sore spot, scowling.

“You stupid idiot!”

“I know.”

“And you just ran away?”

Jason cringes and admits to his lap, “Yes.”

Spoiler hits him in the exact same spot on his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, stop that!”

“I’m going to kill you, Jason Peter Todd.”

“You could certainly try, Stephanie… Brown,” he shoots back.

“You don’t even know my middle name?”

“I don’t care about you.”

She lifts her fist again, but Jason twists out of the way before she can hit him a third time in the same shoulder. It’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“You don’t get it,” he says, balancing on the edge of the roof and feeling exceptionally unstable, even though he’s walked across ledges like this since he was twelve.

“What don’t I get? That you have an awesome partner waiting for you at home? One that wants to get married? One that—”

“One that has no idea who I am,” Jason hisses. He brandishes his helmet at the girl. “We’ve been together for three years. They have no idea that I’m the Red Hood. It made sense, at first; I can’t go around telling everyone I kiss what my identity is—”

“Right,” she scoffs sarcastically, “like you’re some kind of serial kisser, Todd. Half the city would know your identity if you did that.”

“Shut up,” Jason half-says, half-groans, and by some miracle, she does. “At first, obviously I couldn’t tell them. Then I wanted to keep waiting. I wanted to know that they were, you know, the one and everything.”

Spoiler fake-gags. Jason ignores her.

“And after that it was just too late. I waited too long. I can’t marry them unless they know about the mask, but who would agree to marry someone that’s been lying to them for three years? The entire time they’ve known me?”

“Huh,” says Spoiler.

‘Huh’ indeed.

“So I ran,” Jason says. “I don’t even know if I said anything. The next thing I knew, I was in the street with a pack of cigs and a lighter in my pocket. I came up here to smoke a couple before going back and ending things.”

“You—wait, ‘ending things?’” Spoiler’s head whips around, the white lenses of her domino widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t lie to them,” says Jason. “When I go back, I’ll tell them the truth. And they’ll break up with me for lying for years. I was just trying to put it off.”

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even trying to lie for most of it. You took his excuses easily, believed him about a boxing gym membership to explain away the bruises, and never uttered a complaint about the odd hours he worked. Every time he was late to a date or canceled, you understood. Every time he forgot something important, odds were that you’d forgotten, too, without him to remind you.

All things considered, Jason might have found the single least curious person in all of Gotham, if you hadn’t figured it out after three years. But he’d gotten so comfortable that he’d forgotten that it was a secret, really. It had all rushed back in when he heard your words like a smack to the face, and he’d panicked.

“You don’t know that,” Spoiler says softly.

“Could you forgive someone for something like this?”

She stays silent, and that’s answer enough.

Jason huffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and considers them. Then he sighs and drops both on the ground. “Might as well get this over with.”

The cold Gotham air whips away the reek of smoke by the time he’s back at your apartment. Jason looks at the door like a condemned man looks at the gallows. He could sneak in through the window like he usually does, but he selfishly wants you to open the door for him. Show that he’s welcome now, even though he won’t be for long.

Seconds drag on like torturous minutes until he hears the familiar click of the lock. The door inches open with a screech.

Jason’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your wide eyes. “Hey, darling.”

Wordlessly, you open the door further and step aside to let him in.

Funny how a place he’s practically lived in can feel so unfamiliar. Jason shifts between feet as you re-lock your door.

The moment you turn around, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

You say the same thing.

“What?” Jason asks.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you say.

“No, I was an ass,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw you looking at rings, and we’ve talked about it, but still, marriage is a big step, so I wanted to be prepared,” you ramble. “I mean, we said that we could get married, but we never discussed when, or when the proposal would be—”

“Honey!”

You fall silent.

“Just wait,” Jason begs. He can’t stand any more of your endless understanding. You’ve only ever understood him, no matter what, and he’s going to miss it so much. He’s going to miss you so much. “Wait one second.” He retreats to the bedroom and returns a moment later with something clutched behind his back. Your eyes dart to the awkward way he’s contorted his arm.

Your face goes blank when he pulls out the spare helmet he keeps below your bed. He’d only used a domino when out with Spoiler, but that wouldn’t do for the grand reveal.

“I’m the Red Hood,” he says in a rush, then braces for your judgment.

You don’t react except to say, “Jason.”

He doesn’t understand. You’re not scared of the killer in your apartment. You’re not furious at the man that’s lied to you for three years. Obviously you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Honey, I’m the Red Hood. The vigilante.”

“Jay—”

You’re still just standing with no reaction. Jason holds the mask up so you’re making eye contact with it.

You push it out of the way and cradle his face with both your hands. “Jason Peter Todd, look at me,” you command.

Jason holds your gaze. It’s the last time he’ll ever be so close to you, and he never wants to forget what your presence feels like.

“Jay, I’ve known basically the whole time.”

What.

Jason blinks.

“What?”

“I already knew.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I’m the—”

“Red Hood, yes, I know.” You muster up a tremulous smile. “And Bruce is Batman. Dick is Nightwing. Steph is Spoiler, Damian is Robin, Tim is—”

“Oh my God, you knew? How did you know?”

“Jason. My love. My darling. My honey bunchkin.” You give him a mildly scolding look. “I’m not an idiot.”

Jason’s ears heat. “And you’re not… mad?”

“That you’re the Red Hood?” You cock your head. “Of course not. I worry about you, of course. But you have to do it. I know that. Or am I mad that you tried to keep it a secret for three years?” You press your lips together to hide a growing smile. “No. I’m not mad about that either. You can’t exactly go around telling your secret identity to everyone you kiss. It’s just something I had to figure out on my own.”

“You knew,” Jason marvels. “You knew this whole time.”

“Most of the whole time,” you say. “But yes.”

“Oh my God.” Jason’s moving before he can stop himself, and he wraps you up in his arms and spins you around. “I thought you would hate me,” he confesses, still clutching you like his life depends on it. “When I finally told you.”

A soft hand runs through his hair. “Is that why you ran?” you ask softly.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, honey, I just—”

“I get it,” you interrupt.

“You were scared.”

A thought occurs to Jason with such clarity he nearly drops you. “Wait, so you were going to marry me even after you knew about the mask?”

“Of course,” you say. “I love you, Jay. Mask and all.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t need one. Don’t you get it? I only need you.”

“I only need you, too.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jason agrees, and he probably looks like a fool with his wide grin, but you can’t stop smiling either. He dips his head, and you rise up to press your lips to his, even though with both your grins you end up clicking teeth.

“Good,” you repeat.

“Good,” Jason says, just for good measure, and this time he makes sure the kiss is better. Lightning shoots up his spine and he pulls back to ask, “Wait, are we engaged now?”

“Um… yes?”

“That’s awesome.”

Your smile is so wide that your eyes nearly close. Jason’s pretty sure he looks the same as he sweeps you up and spins you around. You fit perfectly into his arms. He’s never going to let you go.

“My fianceé,” he says fondly. “I’m never going to get tired of saying that.”

“I’m marrying you,” you marvel, sweeping your thumb over his mouth. “I have the prettiest husband-to-be in the whole world.”

“I love you,” Jason confesses. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Seconds before your mouths meet for another kiss, Jason’s phone buzzes. On the off-chance it’s an important alert, he pulls it out, but it’s just Spoiler asking for an update.

Jason stows the device. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know how to make the sopapillas the right way.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

It turns out that Jason’s right.

Making them with your help turns out to be what was missing the whole time.

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[simplyholl]

The Newlywed Game

Summary: You’re forced to play The Newlywed Game with your ex situationship.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader

Warnings: Angst. Smuttish, but not my usual descriptive smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

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“I can’t.” That’s all the explanation you got when Bucky ended your situationship. You were friends with benefits for almost a year. The only rule he had was don’t fall in love. He had too much baggage and he never wanted a family. He didn’t want anyone to depend on him.

You couldn’t blame him, he was traumatized by Hydra. Trapped inside his own body for decades, he was afraid it could happen again. You jumped in head first with him anyways. You were in his bed after every mission, every meeting, every day. You basically lived in his room, not that he would ever admit that. Then one rainy afternoon, you knocked on his door like always. Except this time, he didn’t pull you into his warm embrace.

He moved out of the way so you could come in, and immediately you knew something was wrong. You reached for him, ready to console him, desperate for his touch. He had just finished a mission with Sam and he’d been gone for two weeks. You missed him, and he was usually so excited to see you.

When you placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff that had grown while he was gone, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist removing it. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was so low you could barely understand. Your eyes narrowed at his words. “Have I done something wrong?”

“This has gone on for longer than it should have. I can’t let it anymore.” Your throat tightens, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You walked out and your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t hang out anymore.

When you were alone, he would leave. He didn’t sit beside you during the Friday night movie. He didn’t choose you for his partner on game night. The other Avengers didn’t know for sure that you were hooking up. You hid it pretty well. They had their suspicions, but neither of you ever confirmed it.

Tony called everyone to the back yard. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, pointing to the stage he had set up. “It’s my anniversary tomorrow and Pepper said she always wanted to play the Newlywed Game. So I had this built so we could play.”

“That’s great, Tony. But who are you all going to play with? There’s four set up’s and only two couples.” Steve gestures to Wanda and Vision. “Thought about that and Cap, you and Natasha are going to play and….” He looks at the whole team, everyone looking in different directions trying not to make eye contact. Except for Sharon, who hung around a lot lately. She was getting closer to Bucky, obviously wanting Tony to choose them. You roll your eyes. “Barnes and Y/N. There now we have all our couples. I’m going to go get Pep, you guys take your spots.”

You look at Bucky,but he’s busy talking to Steve about how ridiculous it is. You hear Sharon agree that he should have chosen someone else. When Pepper comes in, she excitedly claps her hands together. She points to the other teams, “You’re going down!” She laughs, but you can’t help but protest, “This is rigged! You guys and Wanda and Vision are the only real couples!! How is anyone else supposed to win?”

Tony shoots you a death glare but answers, “Cap and Natasha have definitely bumped uglies before. And you and Barnes are close friends. I thought that would make it more fair. But, I do expect to win.” You cross your arms, but accept his answer. Bucky finally looks at you, but it’s not friendly.

Sam comes out, wearing a suit Tony made him wear to host. “I’ll explain the rules. You all have a whiteboard, marker, and eraser. I will ask a question and you will write your answer on your boards. If your answer matches your partner’s you get a point. I’ll eliminate one couple each round until the final tie breaker.”

You take a deep breath. This is hell. But you do know Bucky better than anyone, so as long as he didn’t ask any crazy questions, you would be fine. “First question. Where is the craziest place you and your partner have had sex?” You freeze. Of course Stark had these wild questions. If you both answered the same, everyone would know that you had hooked up.

You think about lying, but decide the ball should be in Bucky’s court. You’ll answer correctly, and if he doesn’t you’ll know he doesn’t want anyone to know. You quickly scribble your answer, waiting on Sam to call on you. Tony’s answer is Steve’s room and Pepper’s matched. Everyone laughed while Steve said Tony has to pay for his room to be deep cleaned.

Wanda and Vision both answer “in the air.” Natasha and Steve said a table in the meeting room. You turn your board to reveal your answer and Bucky shows his. You look and see that he has answered correctly. “The quinjet?! Damn y’all are nasty!” Sam laughs.

You’re taken back to that moment. You, Bucky, and Bruce were on your way back from a mission. Bruce was driving the quinjet, but activated the mode Tony installed for breaks. As soon as he started snoring, Bucky led you to the bathroom. He took you against the wall, metal hand across your mouth to stifle your moans. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever done. Your suit clung to you in the worst ways after that. His cum dripping down your legs, it was nearly impossible to take off.

The others look at each other in surprise. Scott yells “I told you they were hooking up. No one believed me!” Sharon looks at Bucky so harshly that if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He just shrugs his shoulders. Of course, he would be hooking up with her. Why wouldn’t he? She was pretty and it had been three months since he ended things with you.

The next question was “Who hogs the covers more?” Everyone got it right except for Steve and Natasha. She said that wasn’t a fair question because they never actually slept when they were together. The round continued with four more questions. At the end, Steve and Natasha were eliminated because they had the least amount of points. The rest of you were tied.

“What is your partner’s pet name for you?” Sam asks. That’s easy, “doll”, you write. When you reveal your answers, Sharon looks furious. That must be what he calls her too. It stings, thinking of them together. You don’t have time to dwell on it before Sam asks the next question. “What is the highest number of orgasms your partner has given you in one night?” Your eyes widen, you know the answer, but you don’t know if he will remember.

Tony and Pepper answer three, Tony grins like the cocky asshole he is. Vision and Wanda answer two. Bucky raises his board, “Six?!” Sam shouts, “How were you guys fucking this much and nobody knew?” He laughs. The round surprisingly ends with Wanda and Vision getting eliminated.

But you’re busy thinking about that night. Bucky’s head between your thighs for hours. He barely came up for breath. You were sure he would smother, but he insisted. He didn’t stop until the sheets were soaked, your legs were shaking so hard, you’d immediately fall if you tried to stand up.

He had you screaming his name all night. When he finally started fucking you, he took his time, pulling another orgasm out of you before going back down for another taste. He finally came with you on top. He had to lift your limp body on him, using you like a sex doll. You couldn’t move if you needed too. It was the best sex you’d ever had.

“It’s time for the tie breaker question. Answers don’t have to match, the crowd will vote on the most romantic answers.” Sam states. “When did you know you were in love?” Tony and Pepper immediately begin writing. You’re certain you’re going to lose this one. Bucky was never in love with you. You write your answer, deciding to answer truthfully.

Tony and Pepper’s answers make you tear up, they are so in love. You can only hope you’ll find that one day. You and Bucky reveal your boards at the same time. You glance at his, his answer knocks the breath out of your lungs because it matches yours. The Avenger’s Barbecue. You lock eyes, his gaze softens as he reads your answer.

You’ll never forget such a pivotal moment in your life. All of the Avengers and Shield agents’ friends and family were invited to play games, eat, and have a good time. Emily, who helped coordinate your missions brought her husband and three young children. A baby girl, a two year old boy, and a five year old girl. The children were drawn to Bucky. The two older children swung from his metal arm while he held the baby with his other one.

The image made your ovaries explode. You couldn’t help imagining how he would be if you had kids. He laughed as they asked him a thousand questions, playing on him like a jungle gym. You knew without a doubt, you were in love.

Bucky took a deep breath when he read your answer. Why was it the same as his? Did you know? Was it a prank you were playing on him? Emily’s children were entranced with you from the moment they met you. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same. They had played with him for an hour before the food was ready. When Tony told everyone to make a plate, you offered to watch the kids while she and her husband got their food.

Bucky watched as you comforted the crying infant. The two older children sat beside you while you read from a book the girl got from their bag. Bucky knew he was screwed. He could see a life like this so clearly. Your belly round with his baby, while you tended to your other children. He didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted that. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you.

That night he made love to you, it was softer, slower than the other times he touched you. He knew you could tell the difference too. He placed one last kiss to your lips, willing himself to let you go. The next morning, he left for his two week mission with Sam. He convinced himself that it was for the best if he ended things. He didn’t want to hurt you. You might be okay with it now, but years later you would regret it.

You’d realize having the Winter Soldier for a husband wasn’t worth everything you would have to go through. Then Sharon started flirting with him after Steve rejected her. He hadn’t so much as hugged her, but she acted like she was entitled to him.

Everyone voted for Tony and Pepper to win. They were the real couple and it was their anniversary tomorrow. Tony was going to treat everyone to dinner for being such good sports. You got out of there as soon as it was over. You needed a nap before going to dinner. It was all too much for you. How the hell did you and Bucky make it so far in the game? Why did he have the same answer for the last question? You convince yourself that he knew how you felt.

That night changed everything. The sex was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was making love to you. He had to be messing with your head. Somehow you manage to fall asleep even with your thoughts racing.

You wake up two hours later, just enough time to get ready for dinner. You put on the little black dress Bucky loved. If he wants to play games, bring it on. You apply your perfume when a light knock sounds on your door. You would recognize the knock anywhere. “Come in” you call. Bucky walks in, his tight black t-shirt hugging him in the best ways.

“Hey doll, we need to talk.” You put your earrings in, anger surging through you. “Talk about what? How you were trying to humiliate me up there? How you’re banging Sharon now? There’s nothing to talk about. You should just go.”

“Humiliate you? What about me? How did you know the answer to the last question?” He demands, charging toward you. “I answered it truthfully, James. How did you know my answer?” You ask, hands on your hips. “I answered honestly too.” He confesses, his blue eyes sweeping over the swell of your breasts.

“Stop lying! I don’t see what the point is. We have been over for three months. Why are you doing this?” He shakes his head, “I was telling the truth. I realized I was in love with you when all those kids were sitting in your lap. I could see our life together. And I wanted it, the kids, the white picket fence, the big house, you.”

“Bucky, I wanted all that with you too. Seeing you playing with those kids made me realize it too.” You sigh, feeling relieved to finally get it off your chest. His lips crash into yours, hands moving at lightning speed to remove all of your clothing. You’re under him in seconds, panting against his lips as he rubs himself against you.

Bucky moans as he sinks into you. He’s always known deep down you were made for him, now he has no choice but to accept it. “I’m so in love with you.” He tells you between thrusts. You claw at his back, his confession almost sends you over the edge. “I am so in love with you, Buck.” You kiss him gently. “Say it again.” He smiles, as you get lost in each other.

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[bakugoushotwife]

a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!

warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.

summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!

it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 

satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 

he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 

he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?

that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 

this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.

your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 

“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 

“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 

you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 

but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 

“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 

“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 

“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 

“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 

he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 

you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 

“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 

“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 

he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 

“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 

“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 

“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 

you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 

“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 

no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 

“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 

“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 

“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 

you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”

“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 

your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 

“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 

but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 

you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 

though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.

his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 

“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 

“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 

in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 

“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 

your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 

you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 

“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 

“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 

your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”

“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 

“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 

“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 

“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 

your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 

you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 

[burnforyou]

HARLEYS IN HAWAII - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! just a blurb about a beach day with luigi, except hes the harley you’re riding in hawai’i <3 hes a little mean but he still loves you <333 some warnings: no foreplay, car quickie, crying (a little), a bit of Luigi being mean to reader (calls her a slut) creampie as always.

luigi walks up the beach from the ocean, his tan skin practically glistening in the setting sun like Edward Cullen. you can't tear your eyes off him, trying to memorize every inch of his strong body.

he drops his surfboard in front of you and sits back beside you. you smile up at him, abandoning the book you were pretending to read. but he doesn't smile back.

"will you stop that?" he curses you through his teeth, anger evident in his face.

"stop what?" you reply, faking innocence.

"you know what you're fucking doing." he growls, taking a swig out of his can.

"I actually don't, can you explain it to me?" you tease, sticking your lower lip out.

"you think this is a fucking joke, don't you? sticking your ass out for everyone to see?" he gestures to your body.

"it's just a bikini I've worn a hundred times before, you're being dramatic!" you argue.

"I don't care about the bikini, its how you're acting that I don't like. you're sticking your ass out, arching your back and shit, and I can see it from the fucking ocean, and so can every other man on this beach!"

"don't act like you don't like it," you say, crossing your arms across your chest. his eyes flicker down to your chest and back up.

"of course I fucking like it, that's the problem!" all you do is pout up at him.

"alright, we're leaving. pack your shit."

you quickly pack all your stuff up and he tells all your friends goodbye. you slip your t-shirt back on over your bikini top and you two head back to his truck.

once you're a good distance away from everyone, he grabs the back of your neck with his big hand and forces you to look up at him.

"you got me all fucking worked up in front of everyone, don't do that shit again."

all you can do is weakly nod in response, your legs practically buckling.

you're silent from the rest of the walk, getting in the car, and heading home. you sit with one of your legs up and the other down, looking out the window, pretending to be mad at him.

until you decide to escalate the situation even more. your eyes wander down his chest to his crotch, curious as to what "worked up" meant to him. you almost gasp at the sight of a tent in his swim shorts, his shape showing through. heat washes over you and you cant tear your eyes off of cock, admiring the evident curvature.

your fingers attach to your pussy like magnets. you can't control it, it just happens. you tilt your head back and rub yourself through your bikini bottom, imagining it was luigi's hand instead.

what you don't see is luigi's eyes flickering from the road to your hands playing with your pussy. he grinds his teeth together and speeds up, passing people recklessly. the smell of your desire in the confined space of his truck has his nose flaring and his heart beating hard against his chest.

he breaks the silence with his turn signal and swerves hard, making you fall against the car door, hard.

"lu," you gasp, looking over at him.

"get in the back." he barks, turning the engine off and jumping out, the door slam shaking the whole truck.

you silently obey him, crawling over the center console and getting comfortable in the back seat. he opens the door and crawls inside, his face serious.

"you. c'mhere." he growled, pulling you onto his lap in the backseat. you instantly begin grinding on the tent in his shorts. he groans and tilts his head back on the head rest. he comes back up and plants his lips on yours, hard.

"you're such a slut for me, hm?" he breaks the kiss and smiles at you.

"please fuck me, lu," you whine, leaning your forehead against his. he grips onto your hair and pulls you back.

"no no," he shakes his head, "I'm not fucking you. you're fucking me." he says with a stupidly smug smirk, groping your bare ass cheeks.

"what?" you whine again, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

"you've wanted to fuck me so bad all day, so now you're gonna fuck me. and I'm gonna sit back and enjoy it." he says with a shit-eating grin. he reaches up and pulls your bikini strings loose, tearing off the rest of your bikini and attaching his lips to your nipple. you arch your back into him and untie your bottoms too, throwing them on his car floor.

he peels his shorts and boxers off his body and you hop on him like a bunny. he reaches down between you and aligns his cock with your entrance. you sit down on it slowly, you two gasping in unison. his cock stretching your pussy out hurts so good, it has tears welling up in your eyes before you even start bouncing on him.

"this is what you wanted so bad, huh?" you nod helplessly, beginning to raise your hips up and down on him.

he holds back his moans, letting you use his body to pleasure yourself. he feels like he's going to cum already, after being so horny all day.

"make yourself cum on my cock," he lets out, his voice strained with pleasure, "since that's what you wanted so bad."

you use his shoulders as leverage, gripping onto him to bring your hips up and down, painfully on his big dick.

his eyes flicker between your pussy that's taking him so well, watching you bounce on his dick, and your face, your mouth open with pleasure but your eyebrows furrowed, focused on moving on him.

"you're so needy." he groans, resting his arms behind his head, his biceps flexing. he sighed in pleasure as you work yourself on his cock, beginning to rub your clit.

you two filled the truck with the obscene scent of sex and the sound of your ass slapping on his thighs & your pussy squelching around his hard cock. the sound of sex and your moans were like music to his ears. his cock shines, covered completely in your arousal.

"you like doin' all the work?" he asks, smiling.

you shake your head, struggling to keep your pace. he feels your wet pussy dripping around him and that alone has him struggling, trying not to cum until you do. he starts to feel bad, watching you struggle on him. he wants you to feel your best, not weak.

"aw, you want some help?" you nod frantically. you try and speed up your pace but your legs are shaking so badly all your effort goes to waste.

"let me help you."

he grips onto your hips roughly and lifts you up, and then down all the way onto him. a moan escapes your throat and your whole body arches backwards, his assistance making him hit your cervix. you go completely limp in his hands, letting him use you.

he leans forward and plants wet kisses on your bouncing chest, continuing to use you as his personal sex doll. he moans against your chest.

“taking me so well, good girl.”

you pulse around him and the coil in your stomach undoes itself roughly, causing your whole body to shake and pulse on him. he keeps forcing you up and down on him until it becomes sloppy and rough. tears run down your face with his relentless pace, your mascara running.

he's completely enthralled in everything about you, he's cumming inside you and grunting, never taking his eyes off your blissed-out face. your cunt flutters around him perfectly, taking all of him, all his cum.

you fall onto his chest, breathing heavily together. he rubs your back and cradles you in his arms.

"I love you," he whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck. his hands roam all over your back lovingly. you hide your face in his neck and your eyes fall shut, smiling at the feeling of his strong arms enveloping you.

"did you like that?" you nod against his neck, too tired to do anything else. he laughs softly at your silence.

"let's go home and I'll take care of you, how about that?" he whispers, leaving a sweet kiss on your head.

MASTERLIST - PREV WORK

when we drive in your car I'm your baby, losing all my innocence in the back seat

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify @cumdnmp @ga33y3 @zeervzn @marzipanlvr @seesaw-it @raekensluver

ty all for the support <333

[gamblersdoll]

Imagine reader being shy about being eaten out but allows Kirishima or kats to finger reader and lapping up the juices on their finger to convince reader into letting them eat her out

fingering, teasing, slight oral

“whyre you so nervous about being eaten, baby?” the red head whispers in your ear, a hand on your plush and soft tummy as he lays with you.  “you can be honest, baby.”

“well..” you mumble, feeling katsuki’s hands trail up and down your back and shoulders, an expectant look and sigh. “im not too sure.. maybe about the way i smell most likely.”

katsuki scoffs, a soft smack to your ass and he chuckles at the way you jump softly. “you could work a twelve hour shift and ill still eat that pretty cunt of yours, kirishima is no better.” he kisses your cheek, pulling himself down to your thighs. “relax, i wont do anything you wont want me to do.”

kirishima holds you in his arms, kissing your knuckles and cooing in your ear as he consoles you. “shh, shh. its okay, let blasty know if you dont want this, ‘kay?”

you nod, feeling the blondes fingers hook around your waist band and pulling your cute pink and white ghost shorts down. the air hits your clit, a sigh from your nose and katsuki watches your eyes. “yer so pretty down here..” he mumbles, licking his little fang and he kisses your thigh. “i wont eat you today yet, but just let me finger you, that okay brat?”

you nod again, hearing eijirou chuckle and you both watching katsuki lick his middle and ring finger.

“let me know if its too much, ‘kay?” kirishima reminds you, and you nod in agreement. katsuki watches the both of you, leaning on his elbow as his free arm does the work for him. fingers plunged into your velvety walls, a solemn moan from your lips and hes red in the face.

“god, you sound so wet, little one.” kirishima kisses your ear, lips kissing up to yours and open mouth kissing you. his cock swells, pressing itself against your thigh.

“cant.. cant take it.” you mumble, feigning for your cunt to not come so quick, but both men know you’re lying.

“yes you can, not good to lie t’me..” katsuki reminds, adding his index to the mix. “oh, poor thing..” he grins, grinding his fingers up into your cervix.

kirishima watches, tweaking with your nipples and sucking on one another. katsuki pulls his fingers back, looking at his soaked and glistening fingers and pressing them into his mouth. he groans, his tongue becoming lewd and his fingers go back for more, having you elicit a surprised moan.

“c’mere red.” he barks, kirishima giving you a quick kiss and coming to his level, eyes rolling back when he tastes your juices along katsuki and his tongue. “taste good, doesn’t she?”

“uh huh..” he agrees, biting his knuckles an attempt to hold himself back.

your chest heaves, nodding when they look at you. “eat me, please.”

and you dont have to tell them twice, both men pulling your legs wide apart and the men stick their tongues out simultaneously, lapping up at the creamy slick dripping down the slit that connects your cunny to you cheeks. “taste so f’good..” kirishima mumbles, teeth slightly grazing your cheeks and katsuki chuckles.

“now you’ve gotten him all riled up, brat.” he warns, pulling away and pushing kirishima’s head deeper into your folds. “thats better, eat her just like that. such a good boy, yeah?”

kirishima groans inside your folds, his hips grinding into the mattress and he holds your legs down. “cant help it, tastes so good..”

“thats it, red. make our little girl come, and i might consider you to come as well.”

[parfaitblogs]

present enough for me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you're decorating your apartment with your boyfriend, you're all too clumsy, and really, who makes glass baubles these days? 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. decorating a christmas tree. mentions of blood. joking about murder and prison (it makes sense i promise). puts up with your shit!spencer reid.  word count: >1k a/n: short n sweet little thingy to keep us going this holiday season ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

Everything had happened so fast. 

One minute, you were hanging a bauble on the tree, Spencer's ever so familiar voice reverberating around the room as he recites information you had to applaud him for knowing. 

Facts like, "Did you know Germans celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve? Because technically, Jesus was born on the night of the 24th. It's like this for a lot of European countries, actually." And, "Orthodox Christmas is on January 7, because Orthodox centric countries like Serbia, Belarus and Russia follow the Julian calendar, instead of the Gregorian one we do."

And, unfortunately, Spencer Reid's info-dumping is not annoying, but attractive to you. You oftentimes find yourself keenly listening in as he rattles off facts about things you'll probably never understand to the extent he does. Though, he does love over explaining just so you can comprehend some part of it. 

It had, evidently, led to you becoming a bit too distracted by your boyfriend halfway across the living room, adorning the television with tinsel, and resulted in your hand slipping as it slid a bauble onto the faux snow tree branch. It had fallen, and shattered, shards of it exploding across the wooden floor. 

You curse aloud, taking an instinctual step back, eyebrows furrowing. 

"Are you okay, angel?" Spencer calls, and you cringe at the sight of the pieces of bauble on the floor, though nod your head regardless.

"Yeah. You should see the other guy," you mumble, crouching down to the floor to pick up shards of the bauble. 

"No, don't touch—" he's cut off by your hiss as the sharp edge of the bauble slices your skin, your other hand that was already nursing some pieces, closing into a fist around them.

"Fuck," you seethe again, all the shards dropping to the floor at your — arguably stupid — mistake.

"The first health and safety rule when you drop glass is don't pick it up with your hands," Spencer scolds, his slippers padding against the floor as he heads over to you. His hand wraps around your forearm and he picks you up, shaking his head. 

"Okay, well, what idiot makes glass baubles?" you retort. 

"What clumsy idiot buys them?" he shoots back, and you huff because, well, he's got you there. 

"You're supposed to be supportive and nurturing," you mumble, though you're sure if Spencer overbearingly attempted to console your injured hand immediately, you'd question if he's sick.

"I can multitask," he answers, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Up."

You jump off the ground as he picks you up, carrying your body over to the kitchen stool, where he sets you down, away from the crime scene that is a shattered, bloodied bauble.

"It looks like that bauble tried to murder me," you say, staring at the scene. 

"I'll put some caution tape around the tree until it goes to trial."

"I vote two consecutive life sentences."

"Two? What's the second one for?"

"Conning me," you grumble.

He laughs as he disappears into the guest bathroom, just to reappear with the bright red First Aid kit, placing it on the kitchen counter next to you.

"Hand, please," he says, standing in front of you, and you hold out your palm. "Oh yeah, this is pretty bad, huh?"

"I can handle it," you huff, puffing your chest up. "A soldier never shows fear."

"My brave girl," he says, using baby wipes to clean up the blood, gently. "Did it get you anywhere else?"

You shake your head, wincing at the pressure — however slight — over the cuts on your skin. "Just my hands."

He nods his head, and once the blood is cleaned, he's soothing them with some antiseptic cream, trying to keep his touch as featherlike as possible. 

"I liked that bauble too," you mumble as he begins wrapping a bandage around your hand. 

"It's the same as the thirteen other one's of its design in the pack."

"No. It was special," you reply, shooting a glare at Spencer, who surrenders almost immediately. 

"Okay," he slowly nods his head, only really indulging in your antics to humour you. And maybe himself. 

Once your hand was wrapped up, and Spencer had given you a kiss for your undeniable bravery, you were bounding back over to the tree to finish adorning it with trinkets and other decor. 

"Please be careful," he warns, though abandons his post on the other side of the living room to help you with the three. 

Just in case. 

"I'm super careful."

He shoots you a look, that you match with a shit-eating grin, and then you're delving back into decorating the tree. 

By the time you're done, you are not any more injured, and the tree is lit up with an assortment of colours and glitter, and you're smiling, leaning against the television cabinet to admire it. 

The television cabinet dressed with a collection of candles, candle holders, tinsel, and a festive table runner you forgot you even owned. 

A table runner your hand was resting on.

And Spencer was too late in warning you, and your hand swings forwards, before you trip and land flat on your ass.

He doesn't help you up this time.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[luveline]

Hii!! I’ve been binging your fics all week so I wanted to make a request of my own!! 🫶

I was thinking Hotch (and Jack, obviously) with a reader who’s been his long time girlfriend, the constantly stay over at each others houses type. Reader has a cat, one that sleeps with her every night, and Aaron just dealing with that 😭 and maybe a little bit of Jack with a kitty 🩷 thanks !!

Ty for requesting!! fem

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Hotch pulls you in through the front door. He doesn’t roll his eyes, but he could. “As sure as I was the first ten times you asked.” 

“I hear the ire in your voice. Don’t be mean.” 

What better time is there to suffocate you in affection than after a damning accusation such as that? Hotch smiles into a kiss, letting his fingers run down your arm to the handle of the carrier. From inside echoes a soft meow. 

“I think she’s upset,” you say. 

“About being moved?” 

“About her beau she sees in the window sometimes. Brokenhearted.” 

He lifts the carrier and you open the door. You make soft kissy sounds until your cat, lovely miss Goldie, deigns to crawl toward your hands. You scoop her out of the carrier and kiss her shiny fur, hand instinctively running down her back. Goldie is a big girl, full grown, with a cuddly disposition. She doesn’t like to play or fight, but she’s adventurous. Hotch is sure she’ll have fun exploring the apartment again. 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask over Goldie’s head. 

“Somewhere. I think he’s reading.” 

You give Goldie a pet, turning her to see Hotch, who finds himself quite fond of the creature despite previous inclinations. “Hello, Miss Goldie,” he says, thumbing at the place between her eyes carefully, 

She mews. 

“She missed you.” You kiss his cheek, giving him all sorts of thoughts about missing you, your perfume, and your skin. 

You put Goldie down and let her explore. You’ve brought a travel litter tray and a few things for breakfast, setting the tray up in the smaller of the bathrooms while Hotch makes his way to Jack’s room. 

Jack’s sitting in a beanbag playing on his DS, eyebrows furrowed but wearing a smirk his dad so rarely sees. 

“Your best friend is here,” Hotch teases from the doorway. “And she’s brought someone with her.” 

Jack’s jaw drops. “She brought the cat?”

“Yes, and she’s looking for you, I’d wager.”

Jack snaps his game console closed and clambers onto his feet. Hotch catches him before he can race down the stairs, murmuring fatherly chastisement and ruffling his hair as Jack thunders down them anyhow. “You’ll scare the poor cat,” Hotch says, and only then does Jack chill out. 

“Y/N?” Jack says, edging into the living room. 

You’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch, laying half-curled with a predictable Goldie purring on the cushion behind your head. “Hi, bud! You’re not that excited to see me, I know.” 

“Can I pet her?” he asks. 

“Sure. Just do the kissy noises and she’ll come right to you. Hey, did you miss me at all? I missed you.” 

“Of course I missed you, Y/N,” Jack says, kneeling in front of you and patting the cushion next to your legs as he attempts to smack his lips together. “Hiii, Goldie.” 

Her fur is quite rare, in Hotch’s uneducated opinion. She’s a British shorthair if he recalls correctly, somewhere between white and blonde. I found her in the street, you’d said, third date, lipstick on his cheek from a few tipsy kisses, all covered in fleas and tics, who could ever do that? Can you believe it?

Goldie slinks down to bump her face against Jack’s hand. “Lean in and she’ll give you a kiss,” you whisper. 

Jack leans forward. Goldie follows him slowly, sniffing, whiskers twitching, before pressing her nose and jowls to his nose gently. Jack’s laugh is younger than his years, he’s that happy. 

Goldie jumps down off of the couch to walk a circle around Jack, nudging his arms with her nose. She wants to be picked up and held, but Jack doesn’t know that yet. She does it to you constantly when Hotch is over, not jealous, just demanding. And at night when you sleep and Hotch is trying to cuddle you, she either decides that she’s the one that’s going to be in your arms tonight, or that the only place she could ever sleep is on top of Hotch’s head. 

It’s much the same in the evening. Hotch sits next to you on the couch in an attempt to rub the tiredness out of your back, and Goldie, still unheld, moises over to nose at your legs with her little wet nose. 

“Come here, darling,” you croon, while Hotch restrains your arms. 

“You love the cat more than me.” 

“Only most of the time, Aaron,” you say, reaching under his hugging to try and pick her up. 

“Leave her for a minute, Jack’s playing with her.” 

Jack, as lovely as he is, had abandoned everyone to play on his DS again, evidenced by the sounds of kart racing echoing from his room. “She gets lonely,” you whine. 

“So do I.” 

You sigh and cup the back of his head. “You’re as clingy as she is, too.” 

He feels an insistent pressing against his knee, though he ignores it in favour of your face, turning you toward him for a kiss, desperate to lay a proper one on you after an hour without one, but then a little mew comes and you pat his cheek. 

“Come on, honey, my old girl wants in on the hugs.” 

You put Goldie in the crease between your thigh and his. She purrs with delight. He watches you smile at her, knowing that the nuisance of your big heart is a part of why he loves you. Doesn’t make going without your kisses any easier.

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ drunk confessions - l.hs }

pairing: close friend! heeseung x f. reader

based off this request here

contents: mentions of drinking, and alcohol, cunnilingus, tongue fucking, pet name: baby, no clear power play, heeseung a lil desperate at one moment, kissing, making out, force feeding

a.n: i got carried away with this one and it ended up being more than a drabble 😭 hopefully you enjoy!! w.c 1.9k

music thumped in the background as you swayed slightly, your laughter spilling over the rim of your half-empty glass. you had definitely had one too many, but the warm buzz made the crowded room feel like a cozy bubble. when the call from your close friend, heeseung came through—his usual check-in—you quickly picked it up, giggling into the phone with a bubbly “hellloooooo!”

“where are you?” he asked, concern laced in his voice. “hmmm… i don’t remember,” you giggled to yourself as you answered. “are you drunk?” heeseung asked bluntly. more giggles escaped your lips: “i don’t think so!” heeseung pinched the bridge of his nose on the other end of the phone; your clearly drunk and clueless state is frustrating him. “i’m coming to get you.” is all that’s heard from heeseung before the phone is hung up abruptly. your brows furrow in confusion, but that quickly fades away when the next song comes on. you’re quick to jump right back into the crowd, dancing to the loud music.

heeseung arrived not long later, scanning the club for your presence. he pushes through the crowd of people and is finally met with your familiar silhouette. your back is turned, and you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. you turn and are met with the face of your close friend. the sight of him instantly sobering you up a bit, though the warmth of the alcohol still lingered. “y/n, let’s go,” he says firmly, his hand still gripping your shoulder. your skin tingled under the warmth of his hand, and you looked at him with your brows furrowed. “but i’m having so much fun,” you pouted. heeseung brought his other hand up to tuck some hair behind your ear. “i know, but it’s getting late, and i need to make sure you get home safely.” he looked down at you with all the adoration in the world, and you probably would’ve noticed immediately if it weren’t for your drunken state.

heeseung grabs your hand, a pout still present on your face, and he guides you through the sea of people and out the door. his hand still holding yours, he walks the both of you to his car, opening the door for you as he ushers you in. you sit down, and heeseung closes the door behind you, going around to the driver's side and getting in. he looks over at your figure, the lights of the car shining on your flushed face. he leans over the center console to grab your seatbelt, quickly buckling it before settling back into his seat and buckling his own. as you guys drove through the quiet streets, you felt a familiar flutter in your stomach. the city lights blurred outside, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you had something to say.

once you made it to your home, heeseung dug your keys out of your bag and opened the door, letting you go in first and shutting it behind him. you made your way to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, swaying slightly. heeseung leaned in, concern etched on his face. “are you okay?”

before you could even think, the words slipped out, “you know, sometimes i think about you when i touch myself.” a goofy smile splayed on your lips as giggles followed your sudden confession. heeseung’s eyes went wide, heat rising to his cheeks. he shook his head slightly. “y/n, you’re drunk.” you stuck your hand out in front of you, waving your finger. “im being serious heeseung, i get off faster when i picture your mouth on me,” you whine playfully, words slightly slurring together. the weight of your words, baring nothing on your conscience as they come out. heeseung shakes his head again, leaving your presence as he gets you a glass of water and some pain medicine. “take these, please,” he says as he takes his place back in front of your smaller frame. you shake your head at him, “don’t wanna.” your lips form a pout as you look at the boy in front of you, and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

before you know it, his thumb is on your bottom lip, applying slight pressure until your lips part just enough for the digit to hold your mouth open. he places the pill on your tongue, grabbing the water and gently pouring some in your mouth before closing your mouth and holding your chin. “swallow,” he says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you as you reluctantly take the medicine he just forced into your mouth. once you swallow the pill, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him that you’ve done what he asked. he nods his head in approval and hands you the water cup again. “don’t talk to me until you’ve finished this,” he says lightheartedly.

he stands in front of you as you drink the water, making sure you’ve emptied the cup. you finish your last sip with a quiet "ah,” and you look up at him. the light is shining on his face in such a way that has your heart racing, suddenly all more aware of his presence. your gaze trails from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes again, a sudden wave of need hitting you as you press your thighs together. “heeseung,” your voice is just below a whisper. he tilts his head at you, a small smile on his lips. “yeah y/n?” the air thickened between you two, charging with possibilities. you hesitated, your desires on the tip of your tongue. “i need you,” you finally admit, meeting his gaze once again.

a heartbeat passed, and the world around you faded. heeseungs smile faltered, and you saw a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—desire. he reached out to you, hand brushing against your arm as he held onto you, sending shockwaves up your skin. “y/n…” he began, his voice low and intense. “you’ve been drinking; you’re not in the right headspace,” his words hung between you. “i’m well aware of what’s happening right now and what i’m feeling,” you urge, suddenly more sober than you were moments ago. heeseung stares at you, his self-control wearing thin as you look up at him with big, shiny eyes. when he doesn’t reply, you bring a hand to his chest, resting it there. “please?” you’re practically begging at this point.

your breath hitched as you scanned his face for an answer, the weight of the moment pressing in. your mind raced as you anticipated an answer, and instead of responding, heeseung leaned in closer. the space between you two felt charged with an urgency that felt impossible to ignore. your heart pounded in your chest, your lips mere centimeters away from each other. “are you sure about this?” heeseung whispered against your lips. “i’ve never been more sure about anything.” and then, without thinking, you closed the gap between you two, the world around you immediately falling away. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as his hands rest on your waist. heeseung leaned in more, and that was all the invitation you needed to deepen the kiss. your lips moved against his with a hungry urgency that sent sparks flying. you leaned into his body, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

the kiss was intense, each brush of your lips igniting a fire, and you could feel yourself surrendering completely. but just as you started to lose yourself in the moment, heeseung pulled back, breathless, searching your eyes. “can i touch you?” he whispered, “can i please touch you?” he practically begged as his chest rose and fell, desire burning into him. you nodded, and that’s all it took for heeseung to guide you to the couch, laying you on your back as he leaned over you. he connected his lips to yours briefly before trailing kisses down your jaw and neck to the exposed part of your chest. he centered his nose on your sternum before slowly dragging it down your torso, stopping at the hem of your shirt. he nestled his nose in the fabric, letting the tip of it slide underneath, before slowly using it to push your shirt up. gentle kisses fall on your skin as your shirt bunches up. you whimper slightly at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

his nose leaves the fabric of your shirt, letting it stay bunched up around your rib cage as he trails kisses back down till he reaches the waistband of your skirt. with one final kiss, right above the button, he looks up at you through his eyelashes. “let’s fulfill those fantasies of yours, yeah?” his voice is deep and sultry; you nod frantically, wetness pooling between your legs. “yes, please,” you breathe. his fingers find the button of your skirt, fiddling with it for a moment before undoing it and sliding the zipper down. he removes your skirt and panties in one go, not wanting to waste anymore time. when your bottom half is bare, heeseung can’t help but gawk at the sight of your wet, puffy cunt, swollen and needy all for him. you begin to feel insecure under his intimidating gaze, and your legs begin to close. heeseung stops you before your knees meet each other, hands gripping each leg, and spreading you out for him. he licks his lips as he stares at your pussy, and wastes no more time, dropping his head in between your legs.

he starts off by trailing kisses up your thigh, lightly sucking on the skin as you moan. and when you feel his hot breath fan over your heat, you almost fall apart right then and there. he places an open-mouth kiss over your mound, causing a whimper to erupt from your throat. heeseung smirks to himself before dipping his tongue in between your folds, licking a stripe up your cunt, and landing on your clit. he takes the bud into his mouth, sucking slightly on it as you mewl in satisfaction. his mouth trails down towards your dripping hole, taking the opportunity to taste all of you as he pushes his tongue in. you cry out, hands reaching for something to grip, but you’re left fisting the air.

heeseung has been watching you through lidded eyes, noticing your struggle to find something to hold onto. he pulls his mouth away from your cunt for a moment. “wanna hold my hand, baby?” he asks. “y-yes,” you reply, voice shaking. he reaches up, resting his hand on your stomach as he holds his hand out for you to grab. you immediately take hold of it, squeezing tightly as he continues his assault on your cunt. he’s making out with your pussy at this point, pornographic sounds coming from where his mouth connects to your heat. moans are falling past your lips, and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten. “i-im s’close” you manage to get out in between moans, heeseung makes sure to pay the most attention to your clit as he helps you approach your high, the stimulation being all too much as you fall apart on his tongue. your eyes are squeezed shut, and your hips are bucking into his mouth. but he doesn’t mind; he continues to lap at your pussy until you’re done shaking and are pulling his hand to let him know to stop.

you’re a panting mess, your chest rising and falling as you stare at the man in front of you, his lips wet with your juices. your cheeks flush at the sight, and heeseung smirks before licking his lips clean. he leans forward, holding your head in his hands, and places another kiss on your lips. he pulls back, taking your hands in his as he looks at you. “was it as good as you imagined?” he asks.

“even better.”

.

..

…

[calcifiedunderland]

Shrimply Yours~

In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.

Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~

—————

“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”

Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.

You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?

In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.

At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.

“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.

“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-

“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”

One second passed. Two. Three.

Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”

He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.

“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”

He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”

Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.

“…Hey, is something burning?”

“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”

———

[keferon]

TexAid continues to rot my brain I hope you don't mind I had an idea for Shockwave. Warning for mentioned super unethical experimentation.

====

Vortex didn’t remember the first day his dad had brought him to work. He’d been too young, young enough to have stars in his eyes about giant robots and a desire to be tested by the cool machines his dad worked on, according to what he’d been told. The standard idiot child. 

Of course that had been where him being standard had ended. 

But that meant he had grown up at the facility, that he knew it better than almost anyone else and knew everyone in it. Which was why he was currently keeping his cockpit shut tight even as First Aid kept hammering the button to open it. 

Shockwave, the only pilot to ever make it to retirement was on the other side of his one way red glass visor staring like he could see through it. Maybe he could. Once upon a time he had been kind. Once upon a time he had actual eyes instead of the bionic yellow glow that shrunk and grew as he focused it. 

His mech had had a fatal accident, one that should have killed him too. But Shockwave hadn’t been lucky enough to die, instead he had been a test subject, to see if machine and human could get just a little closer to being one. 

Vortex had never liked any of his pilots enough to care but looking at Shockwave made him mentally promise First Aid that he would never let him live if he got heavily wounded in a fight. If Vortex was dying he’d take the other man with him as a mercy. Better that than this, having everything he was scooped out. 

One metal hand came up to tap on his glass, like he was knocking on the door of a house. “Vortex let me meet him, I want to see why this one is special.” 

First Aid stopped trying to open the visor and slunk back behind the pilot seat and if Vortex could relax he would have at having him less exposed. Vortex wondered if he should chew First Aid up a little? Make him less special? But it was too late. 

The only consolation was that his reputation as a pilot killer protected First Aid, made him too valuable to let him be dragged down into Shockwave’s lab for tests that weren’t a guaranteed success. 

Shockwave continued, “Wouldn’t you like to have a body again? The first mech to human full-translation. You're an ideal candidate for obvious reasons.” But of course that wasn’t what he really wanted. No Shockwave’s real project was human to mech translation, more than what had been done to him, on a grander scale than replacing most of a human with a machine. Shockwave was large, but he was still person sized. 

Vortex had been smart enough to keep his existence at rumors and Shockwave couldn’t prove he was in here. He was trying to use First Aid to lure him out. 

He felt First Aid’s hands tighten on the back of the seat, as if he was ready to fight being pulled away from it. But Vortex kept his cockpit closed and after a long time Shockwave sighed and turned away. “Well perhaps once you get bored of him, just leave him in usable pieces.” 

Vortex watched him jump off the gangway and heard the sound of metal hitting the ground below him before easy footsteps. For a moment he was jealous of what Shockwave had, but not at that price. Even after he was gone it took a long moment before Vortex let his cockpit open. It took longer for First Aid to leave it. 

OH DAMN…

YOU KNOW WHAT. As much as I love Senator Shockwave. The Idea of him being that creepy fucking scientist really fits here oh my god

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[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part six

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: angst, hospitals, fluff, feelings!!! lots and lots of feelings!!!, smut (f!oral receiving, mentions of m!oral and handjobs, fingering, unprotected piv, consented filming), anxiety and overthinking, no use of y/n.

word count: 10.1k

synopsis: Joel’s accident has you confessing your feelings, and while you take care of him, you worry you’re becoming too attached too quick.

a/n: sorry the mood board sucks i literally couldn’t find anything that fit the vibes. hope u enjoy tho. xoxo

You don’t even know how you and Maria got to the hospital so fast. 

Everything was a complete blur; your mind was in a haze and your heart was beating so fast you thought it would nearly jump out of your chest. 

Please be okay. Please be okay. He has to be okay. 

Your vision became blurry as tears welled your eyes, and in your mind all you can think about Joel and hoping to god you guys didn’t run any red lights, speeding against time and pouring rain as you drove here.

He has to be okay. 

You felt like you were going to throw up. You didn’t know how bad it was, and you weren’t trying to be dramatic, but how could you not be worried? 

The man you love is hurt and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your mind immediately went to Sarah, wondering if she was already here—then it shifted back to all of the scenarios running in your mind a million miles a minute. 

A sob escapes your throat as Maria parks the car, giving you a tight hug before getting out of the car with you. 

“It’ll all be okay. It’s Joel we're talking about here, hm? He’s a resilient man,” she tries her best to console you, but all you can do is meekly nod before you walk into St. David’s. 

You’re shaking like a leaf as you approach the front desk. Maria clears her throat and the receptionist looks between you two, furrowing her brows. 

“You’re not hurt, are you honey?” She asks you, and you shake your head. Not physically, anyway. 

“No,” Maria tells her, “We’re here to see someone who got checked in probably not too long ago,” she says, and the receptionist nods in understanding. She twists her bright pink lips to the side, typing something into her computer. 

“Who’s the patient you’re visiting today?” She pushes her glasses up her nose, looking at Maria intently. 

“First name Joel, last name Miller.” 

The receptionist types something into her computer once again, and she nods. 

“Looks like he’s popular today. He has a lot of visitors,” she says, and you know it’s to lighten the mood, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh. You give her a small smile before she prints out two visitor stickers and hands them to you both. 

“Here you are ladies. Fourth floor, and on the left is the waiting room.” 

“Thank you ma’am,” Maria says, pulling your arm gently as you both put the stickers on and head to the elevators. 

A few stray tears roll down your cheeks on the quiet ride up to the fourth floor. Maria won’t let go of you; a silent plea to say I’m here for you without saying a single word. 

The elevator doors open and you turn to the left, seeing nearly everyone in the waiting room sporting an Austin Fire Department uniform. Your eyes search the room for Tommy and Sarah, and when you spot them, you make a beeline for them both. 

You give Sarah a tight hug, rubbing her back in consolement. You’re the adult here, so you have to be strong and put on a brave face for her until you find out Joel’s prognosis. 

Tommy hugs you next, and you can hear the stuttering in his breath as he tries to take a beat to calm down. He wraps Maria in his arms once he lets go of you, and you go back to hugging Sarah, to which she accepts in a heartbeat. 

She’s hugging you tight and won’t let go, and you look around the room and give a weak smile to all of Joel and Tommy’s coworkers as they wave at you with sad smiles. 

“What happened, Tommy?” You whisper, trying to brace yourself for the worst. 

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“We were on a call and Joel needed to get to the third floor of a building, so he was climbing the ladder of the truck. I guess he slipped or lost his footing because he fell off the damn ladder, and his harness didn’t hold his body weight up right and it fucking snapped. He fell three stories to the ground,” Tommy said, tears coming out of his eyes. 

You could barely even process his words. Your blood was pulsing in your ears and your body went still. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to cry and panic, but you were in a room full of his colleagues and his daughter’s arms were wrapped around you tightly. 

You look at him with glossy eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “Have the doctors said anything yet?” 

“They’re doing scans and tests on him right now,” Tommy says. 

“Was he at least wearing his helmet?” You can’t help but gnaw on your lip, body starting to tremble again in disbelief and fear. 

“He was, but he took a really hard fall. He kept coming in and out of consciousness on the way here,” he says, and you shut your eyes to steady yourself. Maria gave you a look of sympathy before coaxing the four of you to sit down. 

It became a waiting game at that point. Everyone was talking quietly amongst themselves, and Sarah leaned in to you and rested her head on your shoulder. 

“How are you holding up?” You ask her, voice soft and concerned. 

“He’s been hurt before, but not like this. I’m really scared,” she confesses, and you sigh and wrap your arm around her shoulder. 

“Me too, sweetheart, but your dad is a strong man. He’ll get through whatever the outcome is,” you try to reassure her, but even you heard the worry in your own voice. 

After what seemed like hours, a doctor comes out, looking down at her clipboard. 

“For Joel Miller?” She says, and everyone looks up. She blinks in surprise that nearly the whole waiting room’s eyes are on her. 

“Who’s his next of kin?” She asks, and Tommy stands up. He looks down at you and Sarah, nodding his head toward the doctor. He grabs Maria’s hand and you all walk up to her, waiting for her to tell you what’s going on with him. 

“How is he?” Tommy asks, worry written all over his face. His brows were furrowed, eyes glossy, and his body language was stiff—he was on edge. 

“We need to keep him here for a few days to keep a watchful eye on him and observe, just to make sure he’ll be okay. He hit his head really hard. He’s concussed and he has a couple of broken ribs with some bad bruising in various locations, but I’d consider him a seriously lucky fella. This could’ve ended a lot worse for him, but his heavy gear and helmet took a big amount of shock absorption from the fall,” she explains, and it feels like you can breathe a little better. 

Of course, his injuries are still nothing of the sort that you wanted to hear, but knowing they aren’t worse than what they are fills you with a tiny bit of relief. 

“When can we see him?” Sarah asks, and the doctor gives her a soft smile. 

“Now, actually. He’s asleep and heavily medicated, so he probably won’t be up for awhile. Four visitors are allowed at a time,” the doctor says, and you all nod. 

“You girls go ‘head. ‘M gonna inform the guys on what she just told us,” Tommy says, and you three nod before you follow the doctor past the doors labeled restricted. She takes you down a long hallway and into a room on the right hand side. 

Your eyes land on Joel, wearing a hospital gown with an IV in his arm. He looks peaceful while he sleeps, breathing steadily on his own. You notice the bruising starting to form on his arms and you can’t help but get teary-eyed again at the sight of him like this. 

You obviously know his job comes with many, many dangers—you just never in a million years thought he’d get hurt like this. You three pull up chairs to his bedside, making sure to stay out of the hospital staff’s way in case they need to get in around Joel or his bed. 

“This man really is resilient,” Maria says, smiling at Sarah. She returns a weak one back with a small nod. 

“He is. I know he’s a hero and he’s great at what he does, but sometimes I wish he and Uncle Tommy had a profession less… dangerous,” she confesses. 

You can’t even begin to imagine the anxiety she’s faced practically her whole life, knowing her dad is doing a job that’s strenuous and physically demanding, not to mention the danger he has to face every time he’s out in the field. 

“Have you ever talked to him about it?” You ask softly, genuinely curious and not-too-shocked about her confession. It seems like this thing would be normal for kids to think about when it comes to their loved ones performing a dangerous job such as this one. 

She shakes her head. “No,” she says with a sigh, “He loves this job and it makes him happy. The last thing I want for him is to leave what makes him happy because of me.” 

Sarah has to be the most level-headed, mature fourteen-year-old, you think. You’ve never met anyone as wise as her at her age—hell, nobody was this wise when you were around her age—and yet, her bravery and wits was tell-all about how she was raised. Joel really did a great job. 

“I get your point,” you say eventually, meticulously calculating your next choice of words. “Maybe you should have that conversation with him, though—in your own time. His job makes him happy and it’s important, of course, but you make him happier and you will always come before his job.”

She offers you a small smile as she leans her head on your shoulder. You wrap your arm around her shoulders once more, giving her a loving squeeze of reassurance. 

“You know, you’re an important part of his life now, too,” she starts. “He talks about you a lot. Admires you a ton. He’s crazy about you,” she giggles, green eyes looking up at you. 

You can’t help but softly laugh. 

“I’m crazy about him, too,” you confess, and Sarah’s smile widens. 

“I’m really glad my dad finally found someone that makes him genuinely happy. You’re the perfect fit for our small lil family, so uh, thanks for being here. For him. For me. For all of us.”  

Her words make your chest tighten and bloom with warmth. You can’t help it this time—tears spring to your eyes and you kiss her hair, smiling at her with pure endearment. 

“There’s no place I’d rather be. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your lives.” 

“Well damn, it’s about to be a sob fest in here,” Maria says, eyes welling with tears too. 

All three of you laugh, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape. The door opens a few seconds later, and Tommy walks in. He looks exhausted, and he smiles sadly when his eyes land on his brother who was still in a deep sleep. 

He sits in the empty chair next to Maria, watching as Joel’s chest rises and falls at a steady pace. 

“Thank god he’s responsible and wore his gear correctly,” Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “Doctor said he might be a little loopy when he wakes up from the medication.” 

“He’s always been the responsible one, Uncle Tommy,” Sarah chastised him, causing everyone to laugh. 

“Yeah yeah. I owe your old man big time, kid. Now I got this lovely lady here to keep me in check,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans in to kiss Maria’s temple.  

“Damn right, Miller. Don’t you forget it,” she pats his knee twice, an unmistakable happy grin adorning her lips. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, and she nudges his side before everyone’s attention shifts to Joel who groans softly. He doesn’t wake up, but his brows furrow for a few seconds before the tension leaves his face. 

“Well, ‘m goin’ down to the cafeteria before it closes for the night. Anyone care to join me?” Tommy asks, gaze flitting from Maria to Sarah to you. 

“Actually yeah, I haven’t eaten dinner tonight,” Sarah says, twisting her lips to the side. “I’ll go with you.” 

“I’ll join you two,” Maria says as they all get up from their chairs, and you furrow your brows at her before she gives you a soft smile. “Just so you can get a little alone time with him,” she whispers, and you mouth thank you. 

The door snaps shut behind them as they leave the room, and your focus hones in on Joel. You grab his hand and lace your fingers with his. You bring his hand up to brush your lips on his knuckles, leaving soft kisses there. His hand is warm. He is warm. He’s always warm; the most comfortable and loving presence you’ve ever been around. 

You admire how strong this man is. How loving, how loyal, how he’s the type to give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it most. He’s selfless in every way possible. He’s the man of your dreams, and you’re so lucky to have found him when you did. 

For once in your life, being confident and not pushing someone you care about away in self-sabotage has worked out endlessly in your favor. 

“I love you, Joel,” the words slip past your lips easily, giving his knuckles another sweet kiss, “I love you so, so much. I’m so beyond lucky to be with you. I ain’t going anywhere, cowboy, so I hope you don’t get tired of me.” 

Joel’s hand tightens around yours and you gasp, eyes darting to his face. He purses his lips before his hand goes limp again and you sigh, leaning over to kiss his forehead before you let go of his hand. 

You decide to call your family and let them know what happened, just to keep them in the loop. You start with your mom and dad, standing in the corner of the hospital room as you look out at the plethora of lights of Austin that illuminate the night. 

“Hey honey! We were just thinkin’ of you,” your mom chirps, and you laugh softly before you sigh and answer her in a hushed tone. 

“Hey mama, I’ve got some bad news,” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“Oh no. What is it babygirl?” Her voice is laced with worry and overprotectiveness. 

“Joel got injured pretty badly at work. He’s in the hospital right now, but he’s okay.” 

Her gasp was unmistakable on the other line. “What? How did he get injured?” 

“He slipped off of the truck ladder due to the rain, and his harness snapped,” you say, looking back at Joel.

“My god, how badly is he injured?” She’s frantic, and you hear some shuffling in the background. 

“He’s got a pretty bad concussion, a couple of broken ribs and some bruising. Doctors said he’s very lucky considering the circumstances.” 

“Oh, sweetheart. Is there anything we can do?” 

“Do you mind texting the family group chat? I feel bad, I don’t want to bug Emi or Josh on their honeymoon but I wanna keep them in the loop.” 

“Of course I can. And you know Emi, she’d want to know regardless,” your mom says, and you nod with a sigh. 

“Thank you mom. I’ll keep you guys updated, okay?”

”Alright baby girl. Let us know. Love you lots,” she says, and you smile. 

“Love you too, mama. Bye,” you hang up your phone and shove it in your back pocket, facing Joel again. He inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut, and you rush to his side and grab his hand. 

“Joel?” You try to level out the anxiousness in your voice, biting your lip and furrowing your brows as he squeezes your hand. 

He groans softly, eyes fighting to open. He eventually blinks them open the tiniest bit, furrowing his brow as he takes in his surroundings. 

“What the hell happened?” He asks, voice cracking as he shuts his eyes again and swallows harshly. 

“You were in an accident at work, my love. You took a pretty big fall,” you say, bringing his knuckles up to your mouth so you can softly kiss them. 

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyes cracking open again. 

“Everyone’s waiting for you in the waiting room. Sarah, Maria, and Tommy went to get food in the cafeteria. ‘M gonna go get a nurse to check up on you, okay?” You try to keep your voice soft and light in hopes of keeping him at ease. 

He nods slightly, wincing when he tries to take a deep breath. You kiss his knuckles one more time before letting go of his hand, walking over to the nurses station not too far from his room. 

“Excuse me?” You say, getting the attention of a nurse. He looks up at you with a smile, and you easily return one. 

“The patient in room 411 just woke up.” 

The nurse—whose name tag says Jeremy— nods at you and walks with you back to Joel’s room, and Joel squints his eyes open again. Jeremy grabs the clipboard off of the end of Joel’s bed, beaming down at him with a smile. You text Tommy that Joel’s awake and they should head back to the room soon in the meantime. 

“Hey Mr. Miller, how are you feelin’?” Jeremy checks a couple of his vitals on the monitors, jotting something down on his paperwork. 

“Like I got hit by a bus,” Joel says, wincing again as he tries to sit up more. 

“It might feel like that for a couple of weeks, unfortunately. You had a pretty bad accident at work. You have a concussion and a couple of broken ribs,” Jeremy explains to Joel, and Joel’s face deflates. 

“Shit,” he says, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. 

“We’re goin’ to keep you a couple ‘a days just to make sure your concussion isn’t too serious,” Jeremy says to Joel, clipping the clipboard back on the end of the bed. 

The look on Joel’s face tells you he wants to argue, but it’s apparent the exhaustion he’s feeling has drained the fight in him. You can hear it in your head: ‘Couple ‘a days? I’ll be good t’go home by tomorrow.’

Joel just nods and murmurs a thank you to Jeremy as he leaves the room. His eyes find yours, and you can easily clock his frustration. 

“I know you don’t wanna stay here baby, but it’s for your health,” you reason, sitting down next to him again. He reaches out for your hand and grabs it, bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. 

“Y’know, I heard you talkin’ to your mom,” he says, eyes softening as you scoot closer to his bed. Your knees were touching the mattress now, and you were so close to him that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. 

“Oh, yeah,” you start, huffing a laugh. “She’s worried about you, but I told her you were fine. My family will probably want to come visit you sometime after they release you.” 

He smiles at that. “I’d love that. And, if I’m bein’ honest here…” 

He looks at you with a certainty you’ve never seen before. Then it clicks—how much did he hear before? Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you wait for his next words, the anticipation nearly sending you spiraling. 

“I heard what you said before your mom called you too, and sweetheart, I love you too. Kinda a weird place to say it for the first time to your face,” he chuckles, inhaling sharply at the pain. He still has a grin on his face that you’ll never get tired of seeing, and you can’t help but smile brightly at him. 

“Joel, I—wait, did you say to my face?” You ask, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah uh, I kinda said it right after our first night together at the hotel. The night of your sister’s weddin’. I think you’d already fallen asleep, though.”  

“No fucking way,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. He looks confused and frowns before you lean forward and press your lips gently to his, feeling the absolute emotion and passion behind such a simple, much needed kiss. 

“I wanted to tell you then, too—that amazing morning we spent together before we went down to breakfast with my family. I’d been thinking about it all morning, and this whole week, actually. I wanted to tell you when I got to see you next.” 

“‘M glad you feel the same way, darlin’. ‘M absolutely crazy about you,” he says, and you can’t help but gush at his confession. 

“I love you, Joel,” you say with finality, and he grins widely. 

“I love you too, baby,” he squeezes your hand and tugs you toward him for one final, searing kiss before the room door opens. You and him separate and turn to see Sarah, Tommy and Maria all entering the room. 

“Dad!” Sarah exclaims, giving him a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hey there pumpkin,” he says, wrapping his arms around her the best he can. 

“Had us all scared there for a minute, brother,” Tommy chimes in, nudging his bed with his boot. 

“I’ll be fine,” Joel grumbles, sighing. 

“Glad you’re okay, Joel,” Maria says, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Thank you. And thank y’all for bein’ here,” Joel says. 

“There’s no place else we’d be than right by your side, Joel,” you smile at him endearingly, and the other three nod their head in agreement. 

“I appreciate y’all,” Joel’s gaze shifts to Tommy, “Can’t wait for Cap to put my ass through the wringer for this one.”

It elicits a laugh from Tommy, and he shakes his head before pointing his thumb at the door. 

“Nah. Poor bastard was scared as hell. Whole crew is waitin’ out there for ya,” 

“Shit, really?”

Tommy nods. “Mhm, but the doctor said only four people at a time can be in here to visit ya.” 

“We should give the others a chance to see him,” you suggest, looking at the three. 

“Took the words right out my mouth, lil lady,” Tommy chuckles, and you flash him a grin. 

You look at Joel and grab his hand, giving it one more gentle squeeze. He gives you a lopsided smile and you lean down one last time to kiss his forehead, and he murmurs those three words that make your heart unabashedly skip a beat. 

“I love you sweetheart.” 

“I love you too, cowboy,” you wink at him and he huffs a laugh, slowly letting go of your hand. He gives Sarah one last hug and a kiss on the cheek before you all head back out to the waiting room. The rest of the team looks at you four as you all walk out, and three of them get sent back to see him. 

Their captain stops to talk to Tommy for a bit before he heads back as well while you, Sarah and Maria take a seat again.

“So you finally said it, huh?” Maria nudges you, wiggling her brows. Your face heats and you look down at the frayed part of your jeans, trying to hide a shy smile. 

“Yeah,” you confess. 

“I’m so happy for you. You deserve this so much,” she says, and you smile and lean into her side hug. 

“Thank you for encouraging me to stop being afraid of what I really feel. It’s about time I just stop cowering away and just let myself…feel,” you say. 

“That’s what friends are for. You ever need a pep talk, I’m your girl.” 

You both laugh at that, settling into a comfortable silence before Sarah taps you on the arm. 

You look her way and offer her a smile, which she mirrors right back to you. 

“Would you, uh, mind staying the weekend at our house?” She asks, and there’s a shyness to her voice that you instantly clock. You offer her a reassuring smile, silently vowing to her that you’d be there for her no matter what.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’d love to.” 

-

You kept your word and stayed at the Miller’s house for the weekend. Joel was set to be discharged Sunday morning which thankfully came faster than expected. By the time you and Sarah got situated and wrangled him home, he was ushered to the couch to relax his body. 

You were sitting next to him while a Cowboys game was playing on the TV, silently watching the end of the first quarter. Sarah was finishing some homework upstairs and Tommy and Maria were on their way for a Sunday night family dinner. 

Tommy insisted on grilling some steaks tonight while you and Maria made some sides. 

“Can I lay my head on your lap, baby?” Joel’s voice is soft, and he looks at you with those big, brown pleading eyes that make you melt in an instant. 

You almost want to giggle at how cute he looks. 

“Sure honey,” you scoot your body over before he slowly lays himself down, situating his head on your lap. He closes his eyes for a second before inhaling as much as he can without hurting himself, opening his eyes and fixating his gaze on you. You stare at each other like that for a moment before you bend down and give him a chaste kiss.

You try to separate yourself from him, but he puts his hand on the back of your head gently to keep you there. You can’t help but smile against his lips and kiss him again, a little bit longer this time, before you move your head up slightly. 

“Don’t exert yourself too much now, Mr. Miller,” you tease, and he scoffs against your lips. 

“If I wanna kiss my lady, ‘m gonna kiss her until my face turns blue,” he says, and you laugh at his fake stern tone. “‘Sides, it’s the only action I’m gonna be gettin’ for awhile anyway.” 

Your jaw drops as you stare down at him. “Joel Miller!” You can’t help but laugh, “You’re an insatiable man, y’know that?” You take the liberty of running your fingers through his soft locks, and he closes his eyes for a brief second in comfort. 

“What? ‘S true,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, cowboy. Maybe you’ll get a little something from me soon enough.” 

“You gonna give me some sugar, sugar?” He grins proudly at his lame joke and you huff a laugh. 

“Only if you behave. Gotta wait a little while longer, though. Doctor’s orders.” 

“You’re really gonna make me wait?” 

“Mhm. Learn some patience and keep it in your pants,” you giggle, and the irony of it all is that Joel is literally the most patient man you know. His laid back personality is every indication of patience, but it’s funny to see him squirm a little at the prospect of you taking care of him without having to have him exert himself in any way. 

“It’s hard when I got a beautiful, lovin’ lady such as yourself.” 

“Joel Miller, are you flirting with me?” You try to hold back your laugh, and he squints his eyes at you. 

“And what if I was? Is it workin’?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but fully laugh this time. Fuck, you really love this man. 

“Maybe. Means I’m not going anywhere, cowboy. You’re stuck with me,” you say, and he tugs you down for another sweet kiss. 

“That’s fine by me. Hey, uh, speakin’ of not goin’ anywhere—” he pauses, looking like he’s trying to find the right words to say. “Would you mind stayin’ here while I heal up? Sarah n’ I would both love it if you’d stay here with us for the time bein’ if ‘s not an imposition, of course.” 

You answer him almost immediately, trying not to sound too eager. “I don’t mind at all,” you say, “I know my boss wanted us to move remotely anyways, so it works out.” Your boss telling your whole department they were going to move strictly to remote work truly couldn’t have come at a better time, you think. 

“I can also take Sarah to school and soccer practice for the time being too,” you offer, and a swirl of excitement settles deep into your bones at the thought of the domesticity of it all. You try not to think about it, but there’s something about spending consecutive days with the person you love that drives your heart into a frenzy. 

“You’d do that?” His voice is soft, hopeful. You nod, brushing your fingers through his curls once more. 

“You’re too good to me, woman,” he groans, bringing you down for one last kiss. You can’t help but smile against his lips, whispering right back to him. 

“And you’re too good to me.” 

-

It didn’t take long for all of you to fall into a routine. Mondays are hectic but manageable as you usher Sarah out of the door just in time to drive her to school. Tuesdays are for school and soccer practice, making a quick and easy dinner to appease everyone. Wednesdays are for school and tutoring, because Sarah is wickedly smart, but geometry seemed to take a toll on her. Thursdays are the same as Tuesdays, and Fridays are the days you all decide if it’ll be takeout or pizza for dinner. 

Tommy and Maria will occasionally pop in and help with dinner once in a while, which is always a nice surprise. Your family visited too, checking in on Joel to make sure he’s okay. Your mom even made a pot of ‘get well soon soup’, as she likes to call it. 

It’s now week three at the Miller household for you and you feel like you practically live here at this point. Well, in a way, you sorta do. 

It’s just until Joel heals fully, though. Then it’s back to the regular routine—something you almost forgot about; what it was like before you brought some of your stuff over to Joel and Sarah’s. 

You don’t know how it’ll feel to go back to a bed with an empty side on it, void of Joel and his comforting scent and warmth. You don’t know how it’ll feel to be back to stark quietness, no morning rushes or scrambling of eggs for three or showing off your pancake flipping skills that elicits excited laughs and rounds of applause. 

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t want to go back to your apartment. You haven’t constantly been in a house so full of laughter and love since you left your parents to live on your own over a decade ago. 

It’s funny, you think. You were so okay with being alone, so okay with pushing people away to ‘protect your own peace’ as you’d called it, so okay in your own little bubble—when in reality, you were sabotaging every potential relationship that had come your way. 

After Christian, those feelings of doubt and isolation crept in and slowly sank its claws in you, and for a while, you were so content with just being by yourself—so much so that you’d already accepted the fact that you’d probably be alone forever. 

And then Joel came along. This man has single handedly turned your whole world around, and you can’t get enough of him. He’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more. You don’t know what possessed you to make the first move a couple of months back at Rosemary’s, but you’re so fucking glad you did. 

You probably wouldn’t be here in this warm house with the most loving man right now if you didn’t. 

It’s another Tuesday at the Miller household, and Joel squeezes your shoulders to break you from your wandering mind. 

You look up at him from your seat and give him a tired smile, looking back down at the steaming cup of coffee he placed in front of you. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty lady?” He asks, kissing your cheek before sitting down next to you. 

You know you were too chicken to tell him your real thoughts, so you made something up. 

“Your birthday’s this weekend,” you state matter-of-factly. Okay, truthfully, it’s been on your mind for days, so it isn’t  something totally made up. It seemed to work though as Joel groans and tips his head back. 

“Don’t remind me,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Oh c’mon, let me plan a little something for you,” you pout, as if you didn’t already have a plan in mind that his family, your family and his friends knew about. 

“My sweet girl, you don’t have to do that. Not exactly thrilled at celebratin’ turnin’ a year older.” 

“But I want to, Mr. Miller,” you tease, and he groans. “Besides, you deserve to be celebrated.” 

“You know what that does to me when you call me that,” he shifts in his seat and you have to stifle a laugh at how fast this man gets turned on by you. He doesn’t comment on the second half of your statement, which you decidedly let go of. 

The feeling of power and seduction sinks her gnarly little teeth into your very being, and you can’t help but feel proud that you’re the one who makes him feel this way. Maybe slight possession wiggles her way in between power and seduction, nestling herself comfortably between the two. 

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. For now,” you say, quirking a brow as you point a finger at him. He leans forward and nips his teeth gently at the tip of your finger, 

kissing it right after. He’s sporting a boyish grin when you look at him, and you roll your eyes with a smile before the chair scrapes against the floor as you get up, looking at your watch-clad wrist. 

“Time to clock in.” 

“Don’t be too long, darlin.’ I’ll miss that pretty face an awful lot.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible flirt?” You tease him, knowing damn well he isn’t. 

“What I lack in flirting I make up for in other areas,” he smirks, giving your ass a slap as you walk past him. You fake-glare at him and he tosses his head back as a deep laugh rumbles from his chest, and you admire him so. 

Fuck, you think. It’s going to be really hard going back to things as they were before. 

-

A few days later, and you‘re basking in the way the golden rays of the autumn sun hit your skin through the blinds in Joel’s room. You aren’t fully awake yet, but you can feel Joel’s strong chest pressed securely against your back. 

His grip on you is tight—protective, in a sense. It doesn’t waver when he begins to press soft, wet kisses against your shoulder, moving the strap of your nightie down as his kisses trail further up your neck. 

He brings his mouth up to your ear, nibbling on your lobe a tiny bit before moving his hands up your torso to palm at your breasts. 

You hum in response, your brain fuzzy and still trying to catch up to what was going on in reality. He tweaked your hardened buds through the satin you wore, and you instantly melted into the palms of his large, warm hands. 

“Mornin’ honey,” he whispers, dragging his lips down your jugular. You hum again, slowly blinking your eyes open. You squint as the sun directly hits your eyes for a second before you stretch, hands above your head. The movement caused the satin material to slide up your thighs, exposing your bare bottom half. 

Joel groans in response, and he flips you over onto your back before his sweet brown eyes meet yours—except his eyes were riddled with pure mischief. He wore a smirk to match, and you wrap your arms around the back of his neck before carding your fingers through his soft curls. 

“Morning handsome,” you say, voice soft and full of sleep. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thank you beautiful,” the tenderness in his voice matches yours, but he takes one glance down your body before you feel his hardening length against your thigh. You stifle a laugh and bite your lip, excitement swirling in your bones. 

You’ve touched Joel in the past few weeks—handjobs in the shower, morning head every so often—but you haven’t gone beyond that while he’s been healing up. You didn’t mind, obviously, but you can tell it’s been bothering him. 

The thing about Joel, well, he’s a giver. And when he can’t provide what he wants to give, it drives him fucking nuts. You could easily see the frustration brewing within his features when he wanted to give you more, but he couldn’t exert himself. Doctor’s orders. 

His lips trail down the satin material and he pulls it down where your breasts lay, exposing them to himself. He hums in delight and envelopes a pert bud into his mouth, closing his eyes as he licks and sucks. 

You sigh in contentment, hips involuntarily bucking up. Guess you’re a lot more needy than you thought. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you? It’s your day, after all,” You’re breathless, arching your back off the mattress. 

He releases your nipple with a small pop before his brown eyes meet yours once again. “It’s been drivin’ me crazy not bein’ able to please you the way I want—the way I know you deserve to be pleased.” 

“But Joel, that wasn’t your fault. You were healing up from a terrible accident,” you reason, and he grunts. 

“Still doesn’t mean I didn’t miss doin’ this,” he trails off, moving his lips down your torso as he slides his hands up your body to push the satin up. 

The cold air of the bedroom hits your core and you gasp, eyes falling shut as you loll your head back. 

He runs his hands back down to your thighs, digging his fingers into your hot skin before prying your legs open a bit further. He tosses your thighs over his shoulders and gives you the most devilish grin you think you’ve ever seen from him as you force yourself to look at him again. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he leans forward, kissing your aching, puffy core a few times before finally sticking his tongue out to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. 

Only then does he close his eyes in what seems to be pure ecstasy, groaning to himself as he gets lost in his own words and indulges in you. 

You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, knowing that Sarah was right down the hall and Tommy and Maria were in the guest bedroom. They did not need to hear this. 

Joel doesn’t relent and his thick muscle works you incredulously. He’s giving your clit kitten licks before sucking it into his mouth, not caring to be quiet with his ministrations. You’re gasping for air behind your hand as you feel that familiar warmth blooming in your belly already. 

You realize you hadn’t even touched yourself in weeks, being too busy with work and taking Sarah to school and her extracurricular activities while simultaneously making sure Joel was okay and healing properly. Your want and desire was shoved all the way down, filed away and forgotten about until this very morning. 

You can’t help it—your other hand goes flying to his curls as you begin to rock your hips against his mouth. God, he’s so fucking good at this. He hums against you with a chuckle and prods his tongue into you, fucking you with it. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull and you have to bite down on your lip hard in order not to scream. Fuck, you wish you were back in that hotel room right now so you can be as loud as you want. 

He continues to lick up and down your slit at a torturous pace after, making sure to tease your clit with the tiniest little flick at the tip of his tongue. 

You’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and you whisper behind your hand don’t stop, don't stop, god, don’t stop before your thighs lock around his head and your body starts to twitch under his hold. 

You have to shove your face into a pillow as you moan loudly into it, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. 

And the thing is, he doesn’t fucking stop. In fact, he slides two fingers into you and curls them in a ‘come here’ motion, and your brain goes absolutely blank. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and you’re seeing stars, body shaking so hard you feel like you’re rocking the whole damn bed. Then there’s a strange sensation—you feel like it’s perhaps a stronger orgasm, but with the feeling of needing to pee. 

You toss the pillow off of your face to warn Joel to stop, but it’s too late. You’re fucking gushing around his mouth and fingers, clear liquid coating the bottom half of his face and the sheets beneath him. The squelching sound is so loud that you think this is what’ll get you both caught. 

You’re gasping for air as you toss your head back on the mattress, body now completely limp. Joel slowly slides his fingers out of you before licking one up himself, moving up the mattress to hover over you before he takes his other hand and opens your jaw before slipping his finger into your mouth. You obediently suck, and you can feel his cock twitch in his sweats at that. 

It’s a tangy-sweet taste, and you hum around his finger before peeling your eyes open as you try and even out your breathing. 

“Always taste like a dream, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan into his mouth, reaching down to rub his cock through the fabric. 

He all but growls into your mouth, rocking his hips into your hand. You gently force him to lay down after you separate your lips from his, smiling down at him before kissing his nose, then shuffle his sweats down his thighs. 

To your delight, he isn’t wearing boxers. His delicious length is rock-hard, pre-come leaking from the slit. You thumb it and bring it up to your mouth for a little taste before you start to shuffle your body down the bed. 

Joel catches your elbow though and gives you a pleading look. “I need to feel you, baby. Please,” his voice is a desperate whisper. How could you possibly say no to that? 

You move back up again and straddle his hips, grabbing his cock before pumping the silky flesh a couple of times. You swipe his head between your folds and you both moan, all furrowed brows and bitten lips. 

You finally sink down onto him, and Joel’s hands fly to your hips. He keeps you steady there for a second, and you can literally feel him pulsing inside of you. You have to bite your knuckle to keep from groaning his name. 

“God, fuck—goddammit, you feel so fucking good,” he croaks, and you lean down to kiss him. He responds hungrily, hands roaming your body furiously before they settle on your ass. He squeezes your pillowy flesh, kneading it before slowly moving you up on his cock. You sink back down onto him after he nearly slips out of you, and you hiss at the intoxicating sensation. 

“Fucking love your cock, Joel,” you whine, “I love you.” 

“I–I, oh, fuck me, I love you too.” 

His resolve totally crumbles as he gets lost in the feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him, stretching beautifully and taking him so well. Like you were fucking made for him. And you are, you think. 

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to be a tease but you can barely even concentrate yourself. 

“Mhm. So fuckin’ lucky you’re all mine. ‘M the luckiest bastard alive,” he huffs, and you lean down to lick up his neck and suck a little on his pulse point. Not too hard, though, because god knows you two’d get teased to no end by both your families. It’s hard not to get too lost into it, though. You pull yourself back with the very little self restraint you have. 

“I think you got it twisted, cowboy. I’m the lucky one,” you moan into his ear, kissing his temple afterward. “Thank you for loving me the way you do.” 

He can’t help but groan at your words. You pick up the pace of your hips, planting your knees firmly on the mattress so you can start riding him for real. You set a relentless pace as you sit up straight, tossing your head back in pure ecstasy. 

Your head lolls forward again and you look down at Joel who’s looking at you with such desperation in his eyes. 

“Can I—fuck, I can’t believe I’m askin’ this,” he grabs your hips, slowing you down a beat. “Can I take a picture of you like this? On top ‘a me? Won’t get offended if you say no,” he’s cautious with his words, and you have to stifle a laugh. The amount of times you’ve thought about asking him to record you both fucking each other is actually ridiculous, even though this is only the third time.  

“I’ll do you one better. Why don’t you take a video,” you send him a wink, and his cock twitches once more. You raise the nightie over your head, tossing it beside you on the bed. He groans at the sight of your naked body above him. 

You bite your lip and look down at him, and he doesn’t waste another second before fumbling his phone off of the night stand, ignoring the plethora of texts he’s got, probably all wishing him a happy birthday. 

His hands are a bit shaky, but he finally gets situated and hits record. You continue to ride him, putting on a little show for the camera as you move your hips in a seductive way. You smile down at Joel and give him a wink, picking up your pace. 

You’re sure the camera frame is all skin slapping against skin and your breasts bouncing wildly as you ride him, and he can’t help the moans and whimpers that slip past his lips. He reaches up and gropes your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and forefinger once more. 

You feel more of your slick arousal pool out of you at the sensation, and you know you’ve got him drenched with you. 

“Fuck, Joel, you always feel so damn good,” you whine. 

“Yeah? Who’s pretty pussy is this?” He asks, reaching down to rub your swollen clit. You cry out, biting the back of your hand to try your best to stay as quiet as possible, which you’re sure you’re doing terribly at. 

“Yours, baby. All yours,” you confess, switching to a grinding motion. You both moan in unison as you circle your hips while giving yourself that extra friction. You feel the familiar bloom in the pit of your core, and you don’t know how much longer you’re going to last. 

He needs to come first. 

“Fuck, please don’t stop. I’m close,” Joel grits, and you do exactly as he says. “Where do you want me?” His voice sounds so small, so strained. 

Your head snaps up and you look him in the eyes as you shoot him a wicked grin. 

“In me.” 

And that’s that. He comes instantly, body stilling as he pumps you full. You moan as you grind against him a few more times before you’re coming, too. 

You’re both breathless and dazed as he stops recording, tossing his phone back onto the nightstand. You slip off of him and he instantly pulls you into him, covering you both with the comforter. He lifts his hips and tucks himself back into his sweats, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathes you in. 

“Best way to start my birthday,” he says, and you grin and nudge him gently. 

“What the birthday boy wants, he gets,” you say, tipping his chin up for a chaste kiss. 

“What he wants is to stay in bed with you all day.” 

“I wish I could give you that too, handsome, but I’ve got a party to throw and you’re the guest of honor.” 

He quirks a brow. “Guest of honor in my own home?” 

You nod with a grin. “Mhm. So c’mon,” you tap his arm, “Up n’ at ‘em.” 

“Five more minutes,” he groans, burying his face into your chest. He leaves soft kisses there, and you bring your hands up to cradle the back of his head and scratch his scalp. 

“Fine. Five more minutes.” 

-

That five minutes turned into forty five, with Tommy knocking on Joel’s door to shout “Happy birthday you old fucker! Get up!” 

And now you’re all prepping for the party, telling Joel to sit and do nothing. He can’t have that, though, so he helps Tommy prep the grill for the burgers and chicken vegetable kabobs. 

Sarah decorates the backyard while you and Maria dance around each other in the kitchen to prep some side dishes. Joel also requested that you make your chocolate chip cookies he loves so much, so you were eyeing them in the oven while you chopped up some iceberg lettuce for salad. 

The doorbell rings, and you halt your chopping. You glance at the door before setting the knife down and wiping your hands before making your way over to open it up. 

Your whole family stands there, and you immediately smile and hug them one-by-one before ushering them into the house. 

“Maria, this is my mom Alexandria, my dad Michael, sister Emily, my brother-in-law Josh, and my brothers Andrew and Cole,” you point to everyone as you go down the line. “Everyone, this is my good friend Maria,” Maria beams a bright smile at them. 

“Nice to meet y’all, I’ve heard lots of wonderful things,” she says, and Cole snorts. 

“Shadow was just probably tryin’ to be nice,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. 

“Dude, shut up,” you say, and Maria laughs. 

“Oh, he’s funny. Tommy’ll love him,” she says. 

“They already have a ‘bromance’ going with Joel,” you shudder at the words, “I’m sure they’ll get Tommy, too.” 

“Not our fault we’re all funny and good looking,” Andy ran a hand on the side of his head in a slick-back motion. 

“God, you two are idiots,” Emily chimes in, and your mom and dad laugh at the childish banter. 

“Okay, okay, enough all of you,” your mom steps in, putting the tin foil pan on the counter. 

“Go say hi to your boyfriend. He’s in the backyard,” you tease Andy and Cole, and Andy holds up a twenty-four pack of Modelo. 

“Glady,” he’s got that smug smile on his face, and you huff a laugh. “C’mon Josh,” Andy nods his head out to the backyard where Joel and Tommy stand. 

“Don’t corrupt my husband please!” Emily calls out as they step through the sliding glass door, giving Joel a wave as him and Tommy turn their heads. 

“No promises!” Cole calls back, and they all follow them out to the backyard like a pack of wolves. Your attention is torn away as the oven beeps. You pull the cookies out, resting the tray on the counter before looking back outside. 

You sigh and give Maria a nudge. “Let’s go rally the troops,” and she laughs as she follows you out to the backyard. 

“I feel like I need to do a line-up military style to introduce all of you,” you say, and Joel and Tommy chuckle. Sarah sidles up beside you, giving you a grin. 

“Hey sweetheart,” you say, looking around the backyard. “Everything looks amazing.” 

She takes a half-bow. “I try, I try,” she says, and everyone laughs. 

It takes a few minutes for you to introduce everybody to Sarah and Tommy, but once everyone is familiar with one another, they all get to mingling. Joel, Tommy, your dad and brothers crack a bottle open and gather around the grill while the women head inside, finishing up the last of the food. Sarah went up to her room to freshen up, which just left you, Maria, Emily, and your mom. 

“So, Emi, how was Costa Rica? It looked beautiful,” you ask, plating the cookies before putting Saran Wrap over them. 

“Oh my god, it was wonderful. The pictures I sent y’all didn’t even do it justice,” she swoons, putting her chin in the palm of her hand as she rests her elbow on the countertop. 

“Am I getting grandbabies anytime soon?” Your mom asks, and you and Emily share a look.

“Mom, really?” You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Hey! I ain’t getting any younger here, and it’ll probably be a couple of years before you and Joel start having any—”

You cut her off. “Mom, please. Don’t even go there.” 

She huffs and puts her hands on her hips. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, mom, Josh and I didn’t use any contraceptives on this trip,” Emily says, and your mom’s eyes go wide. 

“I’m gonna get a grand baby!” She dances in place, making the three of you laugh. 

Emily shrugs with a smile. “Guess we’ll find out.”

A few hours later, the party was in full swing as everyone you’d invited was gathered in the backyard, laughing and talking amongst themselves. You made it a point to invite people at the firehouse he was close with, thanks to the help from Tommy. 

“There’s my pretty lady,” Joel says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before bringing you into his side. He kisses your temple gently before smiling at you. “Thank you for,” he gestures with his hand that was holding a Modelo, pointing the neck of the bottle into the crowd. “All of this. It means a lot that you’d do this for me.” 

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course, Joel. You deserve to be celebrated.” 

He leans down to give you a kiss. You wrap your arm around his waist, pulling him tighter into you. You pull away before prying eyes can catch you getting carried away because you know you get so caught up in the moment with him. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You ask, putting a hand on his chest. 

He nods and flashes you a soft grin. “I am, but y’know what I wish I was doin’ right now?” His voice lowers a couple of octaves, and that tone shoots straight to your core. 

“I have an idea,” you say, trying to ignore the intense throb between your legs. 

“Wishin’ I was buried between those pretty thighs of yours.” 

He squeezes your hip and your eyes flutter shut for a few seconds, having half a mind to drag him upstairs into his bedroom so he can pound you into his mattress. 

Your delicious fantasy dissipates as soon as you hear Tommy and Andy howling of laughter. 

“Looks like our brothers are hitting it off,” you observantly say. 

Joel nods. “Yeah, actually. The guys wanted to go out for beers next weekend. Told you it was the start of a beautiful bromance.” 

You shoot Joel a look. “The guys? As in you, your brother and my brothers?”

He nods, and you can’t help but huff a laugh. “Well, have fun, and be careful. Don’t let them talk you into anything stupid. Don’t need another broken rib,” you roll your eyes teasingly, bumping your hip to him.

You grab his beer bottle from his hand, taking a swig of it before handing it back to him. He has that boyish grin on his face again and it’s so contagious. 

“Definitely don’t want another one ‘a those. Shit still hurts when I turn a certain way.” 

“I didn’t hurt you earlier, did I?” Your voice is lower now, referring to the lovely morning you two spent in his bed together. 

“Not at all. Would’a said somethin’ if you did. Promise,” he says, kissing your temple. 

“Well it won’t be too long before you’re all healed up.” And you have to go back to your apartment, drowning in the once-loved loneliness. 

You dread it now, and you don’t know how to bring it up to him. 

“Hey sis. Great party you threw,” Andy comes up to you and Joel, giving you a rare grin of appreciation. 

“How drunk are you?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Can’t I compliment you without you thinking I’m under the influence?” He frowns at you, nudging your side. 

“I guess so. Thanks, Andy,” you say, and he waves you off. 

“Yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes right back at him. “Wasn’t gonna.” 

“Anyway, lemme steal my boyfriend back since you so rudely kept him to yourself for a long time,” Andy says, grinning at Joel. 

Joel can’t help but laugh and shake his head, and if it could, his forehead would have ‘dear god help me’ scrawled across it. 

The party went on for a couple more hours after that, the crowd slowly fizzling out. Everyone helped clean the backyard until it was spotless, and by the time everyone left except for you, Joel, and Sarah, it was nearly midnight. 

You’d just finished brushing your teeth and washing your face before you climbed into Joel’s comfy bed, snuggling into his side as he pulled you closer to him. You start to trace small patterns on his warm chest with your fingertips, soaking in every moment you have while being beside him. 

You don’t know how you’re gonna give this up. It honestly scares you how attached you’ve gotten to Joel. 

And, well, for god sakes, you love the man—and he loves you. Being beside him these past few weeks has truthfully filled a void in your life that’s been empty for so long. Now that it’s fulfilled and you’re the one experiencing what love is really supposed to feel like for the first time in your life, you’re struggling with the prospect of being alone again at your own place. 

You know you can come to Joel’s house at any time and vice versa, but it’s just not the same as being able to wake up in his arms every morning. It’s not the same as being able to go to sleep and the last thing you see is his beautiful face, smiling at you tiredly as his brown eyes droop closed. It’s not the same as having hectic but amazing mornings as you brew coffee for two, getting Sarah out of the house in time to take her to school. 

God, you sound so clingy. Maybe you’re just overthinking this, like, a lot. Maybe Maria or Emily can give their input on this—

“Thank you for the party today, baby. Made my day so special and I can’t thank you enough for doin’ this for me.” 

Joel’s deep, velvety voice pulls you from your thoughts. You smile at him tiredly, reaching a hand out to run through his curls before settling it on his cheek, swiping your thumb back and forth. 

“I’d do anything for you, Joel Miller,” you lean in and kiss the tip of his nose. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” His voice is a mere whisper as he moves his face closer to yours. 

“You’re unapologetically yourself and you let me love you the way you deserve to be loved,” you answer as if it’s the most simple and obvious thing in the world.

“My dream woman,” he grins, giving you a kiss. “I love you.” 

You’ll never get tired of hearing him say that. 

“I love you too.” 

And while he’s drifting off to sleep, you’re left with your anxious thoughts swirling your mind—ones that make you want to cower away and push push push, but you won’t allow it. 

Not this time. 

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[miguelspriscilla]

fucking rcd!miguel in the back of his car after he won a race

“Oh—fuck..”

Miguel grunted as he continued pounding into you deeply from behind. His eyes staring down at your ass, the small-spaced car covering the sounds of squelching and skin-slapping. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head with each thrust, your fingers digging into the center console where you were forced to lay on as your best friend fucks you roughly in the back of his car.

This is how the night usually ended after Miguel won a car race. It all started during a sleepover at your house when you suggested the idea, giving him motivation to actually put more effort in the competitions. So after these races, the car would be parked by a cliff nearby the city while the two of you fuck round after round—not stopping even when you were on the verge of passing out.

“You like that, nena? Tell me.” His lips curving into a smirk, both of his hands gripping on your hips tightly. You squirmed, feeling his hard cock still thrusting into your tight, spongy walls.

“Y-Yes..I love it so much, Miggy!” you moaned breathlessly, the cute noises you were letting out were only bringing Miguel more pleasure.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that..”

You responded with a sweet smile before feeling him suddenly hit that sweet spot of yours, your face contorting with pleasure once again. “Please, Miggy! I want you to cum inside me!” you beg without hesitation, your knuckles turning white as your hands move to grip the center console instead. “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Your chants only encourages Miguel to set a relentless pace, driving his cock into you so roughly to the point the tip kisses your cervix. Pornographic moans leaving your sweet lips as Miguel reaches over to grab a handful of your hair to pull you back, forcing your back to arch even more, enough for your breasts to press down on the leather material of the console, never losing his pace, greedily driving himself deeper and deeper.

“You drive me crazy..never wanna leave this sweet pussy..” Miguel darkly chuckles, just as you were about to give out, feeling yourself wanting to stop, you felt yourself reach a climax that had you seeing white spots in your vision, moving your back closer to your best friend’s chest. Your face completely stained with tears and drool while shuddering as your legs shake— Miguel felt you continue to clench around his cock.

“Oh Miguel!” you mewled, Miguel watches a white ring of your sweetness cover his cock and it leaves the man almost falling apart on top of you. He groaned into your neck with a final thrust as he sank deep inside you, his cum filling you up as you moaned at the hot sensation.

As your best friend continues emptying himself inside your cunt, both of your chests heaving heavily with a thin layer of sweat on your bodies. You were completely fucked out, not one thought in your pretty little head while you stayed still.

Suddenly Miguel’s phone began going off, as if it knew when to start ringing. He seemed to forget to shut it off before he impatiently jumped your bones. He gave your butt a harsh slap, laughing when you responded with a loud whimper before he reached to his race car jacket to grab his phone from the pocket.

“Damnit!” Miguel rolled his eyes, looking at his phone screen and it read, ‘Dana.’ His girlfriend. As much as he didn’t want to answer, he still clicked the green button. As soon as he held his phone to his ear, he slid his now soft cock out of your pussy.

“Aw! Come back, Miggy!”

“Give me a sec, nena. It’s Dana.” Miguel murmured, hearing you continue to protest for him to stick his cock back in but instead he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, slowly rubbing tight circles on your clit as he waited for Dana say whatever the hell she wanted to talk about at 1am. “Hey— Dana..right now isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah you must’ve been sleeping! But..I just missed you.” Dana replied affectionately through the other line. She seemed eager at the fact Miguel picked up.

Though he didn’t match his girlfriend’s enthusiasm, his focus remained on you. Resting himself on your back, using his tongue to finally explore your drooling mouth while listening to Dana talk endlessly about her day, how much she misses Miguel, and how she wished she could have attended the race to see him win.

Your knees still prompted on the car floor, slowly aching from how long you stayed in that uncomfortable position as you press your thighs tightly, trying to relief the loss of your best friend’s cock. You swore you could fall asleep from the boring conversation Dana was basically having a conversation with herself. You never liked her, she was obnoxious and passed herself around way too much. But the feeling was mutual between the two of you, she never liked how you and Miguel are so close..Dana has suspected most of the time that you were both hanging out— you were sucking his cock at the back of his car.

Miguel mindlessly nodded at whatever Dana said, humming against your lips until he pulled away and watch you lay your head, pouting your lips. “Mhm..mhm..yeah?” Miguel shrugged, not paying attention at all. He was watching the mixture of your juices and his cum oozing out of your pussy, the scene was absolutely breathtaking, literally. He couldn’t breathe right as he watched your fluids drip down your thighs and onto the carpet, staining it but Miguel didn’t care.

Though you were sensitive and exhausted, you pathetically whined loudly— surely Dana had catch that. “Hey Dana, I’m kinda busy right now. Let me call you back in 20 minutes?” Miguel interrupted his girlfriend during mid-conversation. His eyes trained on your leaking hole, watching as more of his cum spill out of you, the feeling making your body shudder once more.

“Actually let me call you back in the morning, yeah?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!!! IVE BEEN CONTEMPLATING ON POSTING THIS FOR 5 DAYS NOW. PLEASE PLEASE IM SORRY ITS BAD I JUST LOVE MIGUEL😭

[tunatoge]

pairing: s. gojo x reader | next part >

when megumi asks gojo to teach him how to ride a bike, he panics–how would he teach a kid how to ride a bike when he doesn’t know how to ride one either? instead of admitting that, however, gojo goes out and buys a kids’ bike with training wheels, reassuring megumi that ‘of course he knows how to ride a bike, he’s the best cyclist in the world’! megumi doubts him the moment gojo’s confident facade falls and he eyes the bike weirdly. 

you’re in the bath at your small apartment when gojo calls you, saying he desperately needs you. you immediately jump out of the tub and dry yourself as you attempt to simultaneously throw on your uniform. when you get to gojo’s place, you quickly look around in fear that something is wrong only to find little megumi and tsumiki crowded around a gaudy blue bike. megumi looks up at you, a bike helmet a size too big pulled over his messy hair. 

“are you going to teach me how to ride a bike?” he asks as he scratches at the velcro straps on his knee pads. 

huh?

everything clicks into place when gojo comes around the corner with unnecessary biking equipment piled high in his arms. you grit your teeth. of course gojo would ask you to teach megumi how to ride a bike, you and suguru were the only ones who knew how to ride one in the first place. you didn’t think it was too useful of a skill when you and your classmates were younger, especially after the young gojo clan head had called you a country bumpkin for knowing how to ride a bike, but you suppose it was important enough that gojo would deliberately go out of his way to get you to teach a kid how to bike. 

as gojo deposits everything in his arms, you crouch down to megumi’s height with a smile on your face, pushing your still wet hair out of your eyes. you reach forward and adjust megumi’s helmet. 

“how long have you been biking with training wheels?” you ask, pulling the helmet straps a little tighter and clipping them into place. 

megumi purses his lips as he looks away to think. “a few weeks,” he says, “i want to be the first one in my grade to know how to ride a bike without training wheels, though.” you let out a little laugh as megumi tucks his chin away from you, his cheeks a soft pink. 

“alright, megumi, i’ll make sure that you’re the first person in your grade to ride a bike.” you extend your pinky towards him, “i pinky promise,” you say, tilting your head with a bright smile. megumi shyly links his pinky with yours as your smile widens. 

teaching megumi how to ride a bike is hard. gojo hovers over your shoulder as you run behind megumi as he pedals on his bike, watching with a small unhidden grimace every single time you let go of the back of the blue bike and tell megumi to ‘keep going’! not only does having gojo next to you make it significantly harder to instruct megumi, but you also have to listen to him attempt to console and give wrong advice to the kid. 

you groan outwardly as megumi topples over on his bike a few feet away from you. as gojo begins to walk towards him, you bring your arm up and block him. 

“satoru,” you warn, “if you continue to give megumi wrong advice again i will fucking punch you.” you turn towards him and glare sharply. “let me do this.” 

you walk towards megumi and gojo falters, watching as you take the boy into your arms and pat the dirt off of him and make sure his knee pads are on tightly. the evening wind blows through your and megumi’s hair as you crouch down and pick up the ugly, scratched bike and help megumi settle back onto it. tsumiki stands up from the park bench she’s seated at and makes her way towards gojo, watching as you and megumi begin to race even further down the park’s bicycle only section. you let go and cheer loudly as megumi finally gets the hang of it, jumping up and down before bounding after him as he bikes around and around. 

“i like them,” tsumiki tells gojo, letting gojo reach down and pull her hair out of her face as the wind begins to pick up even more.

“me too,” he admits softly, watching you and megumi turn around, listening as your and megumi’s elated laughter fills the empty park.