#chest pain to be waking me up in the middle of the night

[sweetypouch]

Forever With You

Mr. Crawling

Synopsis: Even your home doesn't feel like a home ever since you left the other world, so you decided to go back and stay with him for good.

Spoilers!⚠️ From END03: I'm Back

Incorrect grammar (pls forgive me)

Mr. Crawling being a cutie patootie.

I was really feeling like writing something for him because I luv him so much.

Word count: 7177

Ever since you came back to your own world, life's been peaceful. No mysterious rooms, no creepy monsters, and no blood spilling everywhere you go.

At first it was hard to keep yourself sane, being kept for a long time in a world that's not known to you, being away from your loved ones, being alone without anyone to stay with you, of course it would be tough.

Except there's a certain someone who stayed with you throughout your journey, wandered with you around the endless maze of unpredictable paths, protected you from any threats, and taught you two important things: what is love and what it feels like to be loved.

You know people would criticise you, calling you a 'psycho' or even 'insane' for loving a monster like him. And even if it's him against the world, you know to yourself who to pick.

And it'll always be him.

Now...what was his name again?

Mr......Crawling?

Is that it?

It sounds so familiar, yet so foreign to hear.

Am I right?

Or am I wrong?

Where is he?

Ah. That's right. You both got separated just as you reached the exit, it felt so painful leaving without him, like a part of you was stuck elsewhere. What was more horrifying to see is how your memories of the other world slowly fades like it's just a fever dream you once had. A string of hope always comes at the last possible moment, as if it wants you to be stuck to choose whether to keep on trying to remember everything or just let it disappear once and for all.

For the past few nights you've always found yourself stuck in the same dream every single time: Your body under the blankets of a hospital bed, and he's keeping an eye out for you, laying his cold head on your stomach with half of his face hiding underneath his long, black hair, watching you with that seemingly creepy but cute smile of his as he asks the same question over and over again.

"You like me?"

And every time you reply to him with the same answer again and again...

"I like you"

He'd laugh and ruffle your hair. He'd say how happy he is to hear that as he kept on laughing, muttering "I like you" numerous times.

And you'll always wake up with a tear-stained face and a tightened chest, longing for his touch and his love.

So you made the decision to finally end it all, end all the suffering, and go back to that building with no regrets. You prepared yourself and hurriedly ran outside your apartment to find the place where it all started.

The cold and quiet structure had this familiar breeze flowing even on the inside of your thick jacket. When you finally came across a large mirror with lots of cracks and a single hole just in the middle of it, you know you're almost there.

Shoes clacking on the concrete floor with each step, echoing through the spacious hallway, you wasted no time and stopped just infront of the large mirror. You take a glance of yourself, noticing the redness and the puffiness of your eyes as you carefully touched it.

You must've cried really hard last night.

Too focused on yourself, you didn't notice a single eye observing you through the hole. And when you finally shifted your eyes to meet the familiar man, you quickly leaned closer to the void.

"Mr. Gap!" You called out. Desperate eyes staring at him intensely.

You can sense him smiling just from the way his eyes curled up. It has been so long since you last saw him and you can feel yourself regaining those memories you almost lost.

"Please take me back!" You pleaded, not realizing that there's a language barrier between the two different worlds. Mr. Gap frowned, obviously telling you that he doesn't understand a word you said, yet he knows from that tone of your voice that you need help.

"Need help?" He asked.

You nod without a second, and instantly reply back, knowing you're finally getting the hang of their language.

"Need help return" You uttered out, and he was quick to respond, and you know just exactly what he'll do in exchange for helping you.

His hand suddenly pops out of the hole, curled up like he wants you to give something to him, which is just what he wants. "Give me your hair?" He chuckled, waiting for your response.

You took a pause and caressed your hair resting on your shoulder, you never actually realized how long it has been since you came back to your own world, your hair had grown over alot.

You smiled, a signal that you consented and that's where he was quick on action to grab you and the next thing you knew...

You're here.

You're back.

Now you just wished you were at the same time as him.

You looked to your side and found a cracked hole in a wall, and there goes Mr. Gap with his sinister eye smile. You asked him about the others, referring to them as someone you're with the last time you're here.

Happy was definitely an understatement to what you're feeling right now, it's far more than just feeling happy that you're finally here. You can finally see him again. You thanked Mr. Gap and decided to leave, but before he lets you vanish, he gave you a crowbar. It's not what you really needed right now but it's not bad to bring one just in case.

"Thank you" you worded out, still grateful to him for helping you, you're quite lucky he didn't ask for a heart or you would surely do what you need to do, even if it gets real bloody. He left the shadows and you headed off to who knows where, as long as there's a door or a way out.

With a crowbar on your hand, you walk past several rooms, some are familiar, while some are probably a new one. Encountering some familiar faces was really refreshing, some of them were Mr. Masque, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Machete. It's like a reunion with friends from the other side, but they're not the main reason you're here, you were still dedicated into searching for a familiar crawling man whom you really really want to see.

Finally, after resting for a little bit, you finally found that same room you had in your dream, you immediately turned the knob and walked right in.

No one was there.

You plopped down on the bed, feeling down knowing that he wasn't here, he might still be looking for you but you're already worn out, your feet are sore from all that walking and running.

Maybe if you take a rest, you'll find him next to you the moment you wake up. Lifting both your legs on the bed as you get yourself comfortable, you suddenly hear a weeping noise, like someone is crying.

You stopped moving and waited for it to make noise again, and it scared you for a bit, it was really close to you, but there's no one in this room but you.

It sounds like it's coming under the bed. You quickly looked to the left side of the bed, and found nothing, you had to make sure it's safe to look underneath before going at it. You looked to the right side and found a hair peeking out from under your bed, it was long, and dark.

You got up and sat on the floor, just infront of the dark view from under the bed. Leaning closer to examine it very closely, you shrieked for a second and backed away instantly when a face popped out of the shadows.

It looked at you for a while, before deciding to crawl out of there. Soon, it all came to view. It was him.

"Mr. Crawling-" before you could even finish your sentence, he jumped at you and completely wrapped you fully covered on his hold. Your arms made its way to wrap around his neck, hugging him back with your head buried on his shoulder.

"Found you!" He sounded happy as well, and his crying noises had finally stopped. Now it was your time to cry in his arms.

"I'm sorry" you repeated a few times before finally breaking down. He's confused as a baby, not knowing the reason why you're suddenly feeling sad. And with that he replied back. "Why sad? Not happy found me?" His hands gently pet your head, knowing just how much you need it as your sobs and sniffled echoed through the room.

"Happy, too happy" you replied between your sobs, and looked at him with your puffed-out eyes, he looked even more confused and the way his mouth frowned just showed how much he's clueless to what's happening to you. Without any second, he cupped both your cheeks and leaned closer just close enough for his nose to bump into yours.

"You pain? Hurt?" He asked.

"No, me fine" you assured him, and the look on his face was more than enough to make you giggle because it's still as confused as ever, you shrugged the idea of explaining it to him more further as it could lead to more misunderstandings. You gave him a peck on his lips and smiled. The laughter that comes out of him after kissing him was like a remedy for your pain, and you're finally at rest when he keeps you on his hold, muttering words like, "Me together with you", "I like you", and "Protect you".

"You rest?" was the last thing you heard him ask before finally falling asleep, ready for a new day tomorrow with him by your side.

It's decided. You're gonna stay with him forever.

[capyclub]

this week has been so fucking awful I literally cannot catch a break

[oreo-creampie]

‘𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! 69ing, face sitting/cocksucking, face fucking, light somnophila (satoru wakes up quickly when you sit on his face), slapping your ass a little, light pain kink, squirting, overstimulation, fingering

Fey: i found this while cleaning up my drafts, cleaned it up a bit, nothing like some simple face sitting in the middle of the night

Waking up to Satoru whining your name following it with, “Suck…warm…nnn! Please! Mama! Deep throat mmmm.” The small night light casts a golden glow dimly illuminating the bedroom.

You sit up squinting until your eyes adjust. Satoru is on his back giving you the perfect opportunity. Slowly pushing the blankets to the bottom of the bed, carefully straddling and sit on handsome Satoru’s face waking him up.

Satoru mumbles, “Mmmm?” Within seconds of waking up Satoru is sucking on your clit, grabbing your hips. Your cunt muffling his moans.

Clenching his pretty face with your thighs, “You woke me up so I figured I’d shut you up by sitting on your face.” Grinding your clit on his tongue, Satoru tightens his grasp, flicking his tongue faster.

You push the blanket off his beautiful naked body. Running your hands over his beautiful chest, squeezing his thick pecs and drags your nails along his thicks. Biting your bottom lip when he flexes and ruts his hard cock in the air.

“S needy that you’re having wet dreams about me.” Lying down on top of Satoru and taking his cock into your mouth. Bobbing your head and fondling his balls.

He loudly groans declaring his pride. Gliding his long thick fingers into your soaking wet cunt. He knows your body too well it takes him a few seconds to get you’re trembling on top of him.

Swirling your hand along Satoru’s long cock. Swirling your tongue around his light pink head with loud needy moans. Gliding him in deeper with a slow bob of your head, Satoru groans and thrusts his cock deep into your mouth.

Gagging on his cock, and squeezing both of his thighs. Your sloppy wet cunt muffles his needy whine. The vibrations from whines, groans and moans feel too good, Satoru is so noisy even with your cunt in his face.

Brace yourself for Satoru to fuck your mouth whilst eating you out. Any intentions to top him quickly crumbling in favor of letting him do what he wants with your body.

Satoru roughly smacks your cheek four times, squeezing your sore cheek. Pumping his fingers faster, adding a little more pressure with his tongue.

Gliding his cock out of your mouth and trying to catch your breath. You softly kiss and lick his head till your breathing is a little calmer. The second you take him in your mouth Satoru is rocking his hips, desperately fucking your mouth.

You’re trembling on top of him, curling your toes and clenching his face with your soft thighs. Satou’s firm grasp keeping your hips still. Being unable to move to get any temporary respite from his tongue and fingers bullying your cunt makes the oncoming high seem bordering threatening.

A wet warm feeling builds between your legs. Your soft cunt quivering around his long graceful fingers making your cunt squelch. You’re cumming yet the pleasure is building.

He loudly moans gush on his face squirting warm thick cum on his fingers. Satoru glides his fingers out and stuffs his tongue in to lick you clean. He grabs your hip smearing some of your slick on you.

Letting you go, you thighs tremble when you get off his face to lie on your side of the bed. Satoru sits up to turning on the lamp, he croons. “Princess lemme make it up wit ya by fucking you back to sleep.” Pushing the pillow off the bed, he grabs your ankle and pulls you into the middle of the oversize bed.

all works

[postmortemnivis]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Why Didn't You Call Me?"

LADS Men reacting to pregnant MC walking around with a fake baby wrapped up in a blanket. [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

Zayne: You gave birth in the middle of the night?

MC: That's right

Zayne: Uh huh *plucks the fake baby from your arms by its head*

MC: Zayne!

Zayne: I knew it was fake

MC: How?

Zayne: Ive been reading pregnancy and birthing books and knowing you my darling you would have shoved me off the bed to wake me as soon as your water broke

MC: ....... I was expecting a different reaction

Zayne: I'd die before I miss the birth of our child

Rafayel

Rafayel: Whoa whoa whoa!

MC: Shhhh they're sleeping

Rafayel: What do you mean they're sleeping? How did they get here?!

MC: Fell out of my cooch

Rafayel: FELL? OUT??

MC: Yea it was a smooth birth not as painful as they say

Rafayel: I missed the twins birth?

MC: It's not a big deal

Rafayel: I think im having a heart attack

MC: okay okay relax its a joke look they're fake

Rafayel: 😐 ..... *smacks the babies out of your arms*

MC: you should've seen your face

Rafayel: My chest hurts now

Xavier

Xavier: You gave birth? When?

MC: Yesterday when you left for your mission

Xavier: So..... I missed it?

MC: It's okay

Xavier: Out of all things I missed this? I can never make it up to you

MC: Xav...

Xavier: Why didn't you call me I would've come running

Xavier's face fell as his eyes began to fill with tears

MC: Xav stop its just a prank ... now I feel bad ... come here

Xavier: You should

You pull Xavier into a tight hug

MC: Of course I'd call you the minute my water broke

Xavier: Please don't scare me like that

MC: I'm sorry

Sylus

Sylus: I leave you in Linkon for one day and you have the baby?

MC: *Nods*

Sylus: and you didn't call me?

MC: I knew you were busy

Sylus: What would be more important than our child?

MC: *Shrugs* Onychinus?

Sylus: Are you kidding me?

MC: I called Luke and Kieran

Sylus: Oh did you?

Sylus pulls his phone out furiously typing; MC snatches the phone from his hand

MC: Don't kill my boys! It was a prank look its fake.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales sharply

Sylus: I'm not letting you out of my sight until you have this baby

MC: What am I on lockdown now ?

Sylus: Yes! Indefinitely! ..... and stop calling them your boys

MC: Jealous?

Sylus: Don't start

[entitled-fangirl]

Moonblood in the middle of the night.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan wakes the reader up in the middle of the night. She's groggy and unsure why.

A/n: based on an ask!!!

Masterlist

..............................................................

She woke up to the soft coo of Cregan's voice as his hands pulled her to sit, "C'mon, love. Wake up for me."

She lets out a groan, rubbing her eyes. The sun had yet to rise, and candles lit their room still. 

He smiled at the sight of her open eyes finally. He ran a hand through her hair, "Doing good for me. Up now."

Her entire body ached as he pulled her up to stand. Her eyes were still half closed with sleep, a blurriness cast over her vision as her brain filled with fog.

Only when Cregan's hands came up to untie her robe, did she reached out to grip his waist. "What-"

"-C'mon. I'm just getting you into the bath."

As the robe fell, a chill moved up her spine. Cregan helped her into the water, smiling when she let out a sigh at the warmth it brought back to her.

Cregan pulled her hair back and quickly tied it up to keep it from the water before moving over to the bed, yanking at the sheets in a hurry.

She didn't notice, leaning her head against the copper rim on the tub as her eyes closed and sleep began to invite itself back.

Cregan gathered the bundle of sheets and threw them outside the door to their chambers. He dug through the cabinet, pulling new sheets out and redoing the bed. 

At the sound of shuffling, she peeked open her eyes to look at him, "What are you doing?" He looked at her with a smile. "What? Do you believe a lord does to know how to change bedding?"

She let out a playful scoff, leaning back and closing her eyes again, "You know that's not what I meant."

After changing the bedding, he moved to the tub, kneeling down beside it and taking a rag into the water. He rubbed it gently up and down her arms. 

She hummed in contentment as he did so. 

He took his time washing her body, the gruff man being gentle. 

Cregan moved the cloth between her legs, and she let out a small gasp, her eyes opening in question. 

"Easy, girl," he muttered lightly. "Your moonblood has come early. Rest your head again, and let me finish."

She let out a small whine, trailing her hand down to try to take the rag from him. "No, don't."

But he didn't budge. "Why? I've seen you at your worst moments, dear wife. Why is this where the line is drawn?"

"It's improper for you to see, Cregan."

He paused, studying her face closely. "Do you wish me gone?"

She quickly shook her head, "Never. It is just imp-"

"-Improper my arse," he said as he finished cleaning her.

…

"I am sorry," she said as he helped walk to back to the bed. 

"For what, dear wife?"

"Bleeding. On the bedding. I shouldn't sleep with y-"

His large hands cupped her cheeks as he forced her to look at him, "You're properly clothed for it now, aren't you?"

She nodded, "But-"

"-Did you believe I'd shun you for this?"

Only then did she really see the desperate look in his eyes. He was insistent on making her see that it truly did not bother him. 

"No. No, I don't."

He let out a breath, "Good." His hands wandered down to her hips, lifting her and setting her on the bed, pulling the furs over her. 

He rounded the bed, getting in on the other side. 

She turned her back to him, assuming that that was it.

But she heard a scoff and soon, his hands wrapped around her waist. He flipped her around and pulled her to his side. "Don't push me away."

She nestled into his chest, getting comfortable, "Thank you, Cregan."

He smiled down at her, "I've done nothing but my duty to you." His hand traced down her back, "Are you in any pain?"

She nodded, "Dully."

He shifted, moving himself onto his side, pushing her onto her back. One of his hands moved to her lower stomach, lightly massaging the sore area.

She let out a sinful groan at the relief.

Cregan continued his movements until he was sure she was asleep before pulling her more into his side and falling asleep himself.

………………………………………..

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[logansdoll]

thank you

you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.

CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.

It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.

Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.

Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.

That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.

So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.

You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.

A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.

"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."

Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.

'Shit.'

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."

He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."

Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.

You'd need a serious shower when you got home.

If you made it home...

As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.

You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."

Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.

You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.

Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.

And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.

"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.

Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.

He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.

But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.

"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.

Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.

What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.

Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.

The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.

'Holy shit...'

Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.

He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.

With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.

From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.

His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.

Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.

"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."

His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.

As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...

"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"

The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.

"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.

It was a stupid one.

Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.

Or variations of it, at least.

"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.

His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.

You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.

"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."

He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.

You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.

"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.

Your gorgeous, thankful expression.

God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.

"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"

Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.

He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.

"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.

God, he was handsome.

Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.

"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.

It was adorable.

Someone so big and strong being so nervous.

Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—

"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.

You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."

Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.

You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.

"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.

A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.

Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.

You were something...

One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.

But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.

You must've lost it in the melee...

Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.

The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.

[hellishjoel]

reborn

1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

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summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 

warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth

A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics

There’s a new baby in Jackson. 

One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 

And she’s your little girl. 

She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 

This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 

But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.

Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 

Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 

You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 

One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 

Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.

“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.

“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”

Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 

“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 

“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.

Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 

Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 

That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 

As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 

“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 

“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 

“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 

“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 

Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 

“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 

It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 

“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.

He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 

You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?

“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 

“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 

“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 

He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”

“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 

Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 

Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 

In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 

During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 

Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 

You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.

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[jasntodds]

Scars [J.T.]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason lets you trace over his y scar

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, scars, mentions of death, bruises, cuts, general minor injuries, hurt/comfort

Words: 1,765

A/n: I just wanted something a little soft for once. If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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Jason carries the weight of every horrible, traumatic, and agonizing event that’s ever happened to him across his body, etched in pale and raised lines across him like a used roadmap. He wears them as cruel reminders that this life is unfair and unjust, even when he tries his hardest to make it so. There are some he pays no mind to, and doesn’t even really notice most days because they are there. That’s that. But, there are others…there are others he looks at as a punishment for everything he’s ever done and everything he never was and could never be. They’re reminders, laughing back at him every day, a sinister echo of his mistakes.

Most days, he tries to pay them no mind, either.

You’re sitting on your knees right beside Jason, his side pressed against the bare skin of your calf. Your eyes are trained on his exposed abdomen, showcasing the scars and cuts and bruises he’s collected over the last few years.

It wasn’t that seeing his body covered in new and old injuries was jarring. That was mostly fine. After the first few weeks of being friends, it stopped being jarring because that's just how it is with Jason. He gets hurt sometimes. It comes with the job and you accept that part of him. The bruises and cuts were very rarely ever jarring. The other scars were never really jarring because of course he has them. That always made sense to you. It's the autopsy scar that is jarring.

With the others, he'd told you it comes with the job and then he'd watch your face contort into a scrunch of worry and paranoia over his well-being, something he doesn't think he deserves most days. When the comment didn't ease your worry, he'd kiss you and give his signature cocky grin, a silent promise that he's fine and the conversation would end. The autopsy scar conversation is never so simple.

You knew he died because he told you not long before you made things official. You knew the story about the Joker and his mom. He told you of the horrid night and bits of pieces of the after. But this is your first time seeing the physical damage of the night that still wakes him up in the middle of the night. Your chest aches for him and it's jarring because he did die and he has to carry that kind of weight forever, something you'll swear until the day you die he doesn't deserve.

With delicate fingers, you trace over the long line of the autopsy scar, Jason’s eyes glancing from your hand to your face. His stomach tenses with the movement and you can’t tell if it’s because your hands are cold, it tickles, or he’s uncomfortable. If you know Jason, you’re kind of figuring it’s the third option. So, you glance back to him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“This okay?” You ask softly.

“It’s fine.” Jason answers, his thumb lightly brushing over your thigh furthest away from him. “Bother you?”

Jason has been cautious not to show you because he knows how he feels about it. He knows that you worry. Seeing some sort of proof of death seems like it might send you spiraling into some sort of tornado of worry until you spin too far away from him. He's been cautious because he adores you and he doesn't want to lose you and he doesn't want it scare you.

You look back to the scar, tracing over it again. “No.” You answer quietly. It hurts your chest because it happened to him. It happened to him and nothing in this world could ever justify the torture and pain he's been through. It doesn't bother you because it is a part of him and you adore him with every beat your heart drums. “Bothers you though.”

Jason’s brows pull together. “How’d you figure?” There’s the slightest bit of a bite in his words like a scared puppy, a default reaction to being seen.

“Why wouldn’t it?” The question leaves your lips freely with unfiltered candor.

Seeing it for the first time, yeah it bothered him. It bothered him because what was the point? It wasn’t some mystery how he died. Maybe it was just legal reasons bullshit that Jason doesn’t care about. Though, he does fully understand that maybe if he hadn’t come back, he wouldn’t care. Or if it had healed, he wouldn’t care. So, that’s something he can’t really blame Bruce for. Instead, it’s that it’s there. Looking back at him in the mirror. Staring up at him when he looks down. It’s always there. It’s as if he was cut open and the weight of death and punishment and regret scattered over his organs and bones, making sure he understands the weight of his own consequences. He just can’t quite shake it and the scar is the reminder.

"I guess." Jason lets out this shaky breath as his stomach tenses below your fingertips.

"It's okay if it bothers you, Jay." You assure him. "I'd bother me if I were you but..." You pause for just a second, pressing an open palm over some of the raised edges of the scar as your eyes are locked on his. "I hope it doesn't bother you too much because you got to live and I don't care what the other bats thought about it at first because I'm glad you got to come back. And you deserve to let the weight off your shoulders for once." Your eyes go back to the scar and trace up the line from the center of his stomach up to the right side of his chest.

Jason's thumb is rubbing lightly against your skin and he wonders why you make it seem so simple. No part of him thinks you believe it's simple but there's something in the way that you say it that almost gives Jason some sort of faith in the idea of it. That maybe there is a day where it won't feel like he's carrying the weight of the world. Maybe there is a day someday where he won't feel the aching and longing of his bones. You offer him tenderness and kindness when the majority of his life has been nothing but skinned knees and broken hearts.

That feels terrifying, too but...maybe he's tired of running away from things because they're good for him. And good to him.

Seeing the autopsy scar for the first time bothered him. Seeing it yesterday bothered him. But, at this exact point in time with your fingers running along the tattered edges, it doesn’t bother him so much.

“Thank you.” Jason holds his words steady with a sort of caution at the edges. "It's not bothering me now." His voice is quiet as his eyes glance to you and then back to your fingers on his skin.

He is entirely exposed to you now. There’s no going back even if that is absolutely terrifying. Jason keeps himself guarded to protect himself and protect everyone else around him. But, you make letting the guard down a little bit easier. You’re tender and delicate with him, two things no one ever is. At no point have you ever thought less of him for the things he’s done and things he’s seen, or the things that rip his body to shreds. You take him as he is and offer him understanding and kindness, two things Jason has been desperate to get from anyone. And he is so thankful for you.

“Good.” Your voice is quiet before your stare goes back to the scar. “I hope it never bothers you again.”

Jason sits up, closing some of the distance between you while you rest your hands in your lap. His eyes run over your face slowly while the corner of his mouth is pinched barely upwards. He looks content. He looks comfortable. His heart is beating a mile a minute as it’s about to run through his ribs. There’s something fluttering against it, something that feels warm and welcoming in the beating of his heart. There’s something that makes his breathing unsteady without ever sucking the air from his lungs. There is something that feels comfortable and like a home he didn’t think he’d ever find.

Jason leans forward, resting his forehead against yours and your entire body relaxes in that instant. He pulls away, pressing a kiss to your nose and then to your cheek before he rests his head in the crook of your neck. You turn your head and press a kiss to his temple before your hands come to his cheeks to pick his head up.

His eyes lock on your eyes and you adore him. You adore him for all that he is today. The scars never really bothered you because they hold him together. All of them have a story that has led Jason Todd to who he is today. They are proof that he is alive. They are proof that even when he was hurt, even when he was murdered, he is alive. The air can be pulled into his lungs and oxygen will circulate through his cells again. He is alive. The autopsy scar is just further proof to you because he shouldn’t have been brought back but he was. And that was for a reason. That scar is just another piece of proof he is meant to be here. It is another mark of how he got here today and you, for one, are eternally thankful that he is here today.

Your thumbs are running over his cheeks and Jason swears he has never felt so wanted by anyone. And he doesn’t feel so damn alone in the world anymore. He feels important and he only hopes he makes you feel the same way. He can only hope you understand how much you mean to him and that he is just as important to you.

Your lips come to his and he melts into your touch as he kisses you back. His hand comes up to the back of your head to pull you in closer. And he thinks he might do everything in his power to have more moments like these with you. You can trace his scars and he can tell you about them and you can exist in the bubble where it is only the two of you. You can trace his scars and he can run his fingers along your thigh and you both can feel wanted and important. And loved.

Tag List: @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @dgraysonss // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @vivian-555 // @kebonita // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @killxz // @achromaticerebus // @lovefks // @kolpvii

[dark-moonlust]

Midnight Passion

Pairing: werewolf x f!human reader

Summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to the steady press of your werewolf’s cock against your pussy.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, werewolf huge🍆, breasts/nipple stimulation, p in v sex, lots of 💦, cοckwarming.

It was during the quiet darkness of the night when you stirred, incredible warmth pooling in your belly. You also felt something hard and pulsing prodding at your pussy. Blinking lazily you realized your werewolf boyfriend was spooning you from behind, his hard cock nestled between your wet pussy, rubbing over your slick entrance. You heard the wet squelch each time he rubbed back and forth and your own unbidden moans.

You leaned back against him, thankful for your habit of always sleeping naked together.

“Did I awaken you, mate?” he grumbled in your ear, his muzzle causing you to shiver.

You smiled sheepishly. “Only pleasantly awakened, my ever horny werewolf.”

Chuckling, he cupped your plump breasts, his fingers flicking your nipples, careful of his claws. You burrowed into him and wiggled your waist, moaning as the head of his shaft rubbed your clit. Groaning from deep within his chest, he bend his head, his long textured tongue licking around one nipple. He suckled audibly then alternated to the other. You whimpered and thrust your chest to him, offering your tits to him without shame.

“Hmm… someone’s sensitive.”

"Mm… hmnnm." You sucked in a breath and snaked your hand down, cupping his rigid cock. His cock was massively perfect, a stunning monster shaft that stood at full mast. His dick was thick and engorged— your hand couldn’t wrap around it. It was also surrounded by pleasurable ridges and a knot that swelled once he released his seed.

“N-need your pussy…" he drawled in pain, pumping his cock in your palm. “Need your warm cunt wrapped around my cock. Let me in, love, hm?“

Sleep completely forgotten, you clutched his cock in your palm and guided him inside. The slide was slow and blissful. You felt every inch of him invade you and bury so deep inside you that he stole your breath away. When he filled you to the hilt, you both let out a harsh moan. He pulsed wildly and lifted your legs slightly to open you up, while pumping his hips.

The bed squeaked as he claimed you, his massive framed curled behind you, so much bigger than your own. You were so wet that his cock slid in and out of you without issue, wet squelches echoing as he fucked you and owned your pussy. You rocked against him while he licked and pinched your nipples, driving you higher and higher.

When he started rubbing your clit, you thrashed and let out the sweetest whimpers. You dug your nails into his furry forearms while he breathed hotly against your ear, whispering sweet little love words and begging you to cum and squeeze his cock. You gyrated your waist, angling his cock just as you both liked and floated higher and higher until—

Pleasure claimed you, violently and utterly. You shut your eyes tightly and came, thrashing as your insides fluttered around his thrusting cock. Your werewolf didn’t stop fucking you and lightly toyed with your clit. His cock slammed in and out of you in steady powerful thrusts, your breasts heaving against his tongue.

When you rode the waves of your climax, you smiled against him and pressed a gentle nudge against his chest. He didn’t move an inch—he was thrice your size and as solid as a rock, but your nudge was enough to convey your message: you wanted to change positions. More than eager, he lay back, his hard cock sliding out of you with an obscene wet sound.

Without hesitation, you straddled his thick hairy thighs, your palms caressing his broad chest while his cock pulsed against your belly. “My turn now, big boy.”

He smiled and slapped your perky ass. “Take what you need, my lady."

Without hesitation, you lifted yourself and sat down on his cock. The thick head spread your folds and surged up inside you. A gasp escape your lips at the depth and stretch of his invasion. He was so deep, deeper than before and as you began to ride him, you could see the shape of his dick making your belly swell. Still, you took him in fully, your incredible wetness making the glide effortless.

Settling his feet on the mattress, he fucked up into you, causing your whole frame to bounce. His hands roamed your body, cupping your shoulders, your tits and round ass. His thrusts turned frantic and more urgent than before. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the bedroom, mixed with your raw, unrestrained moans. His growls made your shiver and drove you wild.

The connection between you was electric, every touch, every thrust, fueling the fire inside you.

“Gods, there is no better feeling in the whole world than this,” he panted, pounding up inside you. “You. Only you.”

“Oh, yessss…” you clutched him, sensitive and on the verge of another orgasm. “Gonna… ahn… gonna—”

“Now. Cum now, little mate.”

You responded with breathless little moans, your muscles flexing as a second climax exploded within you, waves of pleasure traveling all over your body. You went wild and buckled against him but he continued to pound into you until he found his own release. Burying himself to the hilt, he swell within you, his cock pumping load after load of wolf cum. Menacing growls echoed in the room as he spilled inside you, his knot plugging you up, locking you together. He filled you to bursting and you could do nothing but take it and collapse on his strong chest.

It was minutes later when he stopped cumming. You had climaxed again with little aftershocks that still rippled through your body. Lying atop his muscular frame, his cock still a part of you, you played with his hairy chest and nestled against him. You were a mess, spent, pleasured and sleepy. And you couldn’t be more happy. With a sigh, you heard the steady beating of his heart and soon, you drifted into sleep.

[milla-frenchy]

10 mg

1k0 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3

Warnings: 18+ mdni. consensual somnophilia, dirty talk, piv, creampie

a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕😘

Masterlist

***********

Joel woke up in the middle of the night, feeling warmth against his torso and lower stomach. Your back was against his chest, your bare ass nestled against his crotch, your breathing slow. Deep asleep, he thought.

You both fell asleep while his soft and soothed cock was still inside you, his cum dripping from your pussy to the sheets. He always hoped to wake up still buried in you, and to feel his length growing inside your core. Then his hips would resume their thrusts as if the night didn’t pass by.

But not today. Today, his cock was against your ass, out of you. Hard, already weeping. He was so fucking stiff that it was almost painful. He needed to plunge his shaft into your warmth, to feel it wrapped by your walls and squeezed by them. To be inside what was his.

“I need to fuck her, baby”, he said in your ear, his voice so low that even if you had been awake you probably wouldn't have heard him. He jerked his cock, still covered in your wetness and his cum, and nestled it at your still seeping hole. When his tip brushed against all that dampness, he grunted. God, you were so fucking hot.

“Shit, sweetheart, I can already stuff you with my cock.”

His other hand slipped under the sheets, in front of your pussy up to your folds, and his fingers helped him enter gently. “Oh fuck”, he grumbled, feeling your warmth surrounding him. He kept thrusting and didn’t stop, pressing the tips of his fingers against his shaft until your pussy swallowed him whole. You softly moaned. Over your head, he looked at the nightstand, the glass of water, the bottle of sleeping pills. His hand slid up to your breast and cupped it. How he wished he could have taken it in his mouth, and sucked your hard nipple. Fuck, just thinking about it made him even harder.

“ ’m gonna fuck you slow at first, don't wanna wake you up yet.”

He moved his hand down to your hip. Leaving the sheet on you, forcing himself to imagine every curve of your body under the fabric. 

Your pussy was taking his cock perfectly, as always. Made for him. He brushed his nose against your collarbone then the back of your neck, breathing in your scent, letting his soft mustache and beard brush against your skin, and you moaned again.

“Ya like it, uh? Letting me use ya whenever I want? Even while you’re sleeping, jesus…”, he whispered in your ear, even though you couldn’t hear him, and that turned him on even more. Your body was warm against his, and finally he removed the sheet that was covering you and the moon let him see the curves of your body.

“Fuck. You’re so hot, baby”, he murmured, caressing the skin on your hip. This time you moaned louder and he slowed down, whispering softly, his forehead against the back of your head "don't wake up sweetheart, please. Not yet. Let me use you a little more."

He moved his torso slightly away from your back, looking down at your ass, only being able to see the shadow of his cock sinking into you.

“Fully stuffed with my cock, shit. I like fucking you like that. Slowly. Feeling her.”

Every time he was pulling back, he wanted to thrust in roughly, cling to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. Each time he stopped himself, wanting to keep you a little more for himself. Enjoying this moment when you let him fully use your body. Unaware of what he was doing, how he was doing it.

“She’s always ready to take this cock, mmm, baby? Always ready to get fuckin’ ruined.”

His breathing was speeding up, and he wondered how he was going to wake you up. Would he dive in suddenly like he was thinking about it for several minutes? Covering your mouth with his hand to prevent you from waking up the neighbors. 

Or would he thrust just a little harder, gripping your hip with more pressure. Lightly nibbling your shoulder.

“Fuck…taking it so good…”

He took your hand in his and pinned them to the sheets, intertwining his fingers with yours and leaned forward slightly. Diving his hips in yours again. “I love to fuck you when you’re asleep. Miss your mouth in these moments, but fuck…” 

He felt his cock twitch, and grunted to himself “don’t you fucking dare. Not yet.” He slowed the pace trying to calm down. “Fuck, this pussy is not even clenching me yet and I wanna shoot my load, damn.”

He slid his hand between your body and the bed, and rubbed your clit. “You’re gonna come in your sleep baby? Bet ya can do that for me.” He kissed your shoulder, burying himself ever so gently into you. “Come on, sweetheart, give it to me.” Your clit throbbed under his finger and your pussy clenched. “Yeah, just like that, baby. Squeeze me.” His cock twitched, ready to give in. “Just a little bit more….” He stroked your clit as patiently as ever, waiting for your release, then his own. He felt you flinch, and you barely had the time to stammer, “J…Joel? Oh fuck, I’m gonna…oh fuck!”

You came right after waking up, your pussy squeezing his shaft. He fucked you through your orgasm, praising you with his “good girl, soaking my cock,” until you felt him pulse, squirting his spurts of cum against your walls.

“Oh shit, Joel…” Your body was trembling in his arms as he was holding you tight against him, his orgasm exploding after all those whispers and slow thrusts. He held you against his sweaty body, unable to move.

“Sweetheart…”, he finally mumbled against the crook of your neck.

“I love when you’re using me”, you said, kissing his hand.

“I love it too, baby. She was still dripping, you know…ruining the sheets. Begging for me to fuck her.”

“I bet she was. That little slut”, you laughed and pinched him. You tried to turn around but he held you tighter.

“Can't leave this warmth baby. Let me fall asleep like this. I'll fuck you again in a couple of hours. Ok?”

He kissed your neck.

You nodded, but thought that you’d love to fuck yourself slowly on his shaft while he was asleep, and feel him grow inside you.

*****

***************

The nap: reverse somno | Same couple: 5 days collection

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[catching-the-light]

wc: 1.2k

[18+ only]

content: mentions of oral sex [f receiving], unprotected sex and cockwarming [very brief]

[just a little something i wrote. pretty much all smut with little to no plot.]

With the side of her face pressed down into the mattress and hips snapping against her ass - all that flooded her ears were his deep grunts, the sound of skin clashing and her lewd moans. He had woken her up in the middle of the night, but she didn’t mind. She had given him permission to wake her up whenever he needed it. More specifically, she had even given him permission to wake her up by kissing her right between her plush thighs. It was one of her favorite things - waking up to her boyfriend eating her out. She didn’t understand how he could be so good at it. All her previous boyfriends had complained when she asked for it. They would say it made their jaw hurt. That they didn’t like the thought of putting their tongue down there, but they never did complain when she would put her tongue on them.

Harry was unlike any other man she had met. He doted on her. He took care of her. He provided for her. If it were up to him, (Y/N) would never have to lift a finger, but he knew that his girl also liked being self-sufficient. He both admired and loathed how independent she could be sometimes. He loved how strong she was, but sometimes it scared him. He couldn’t help but wonder every now and then what would happen if (Y/N) realized she didn’t need him anymore - didn’t want to be his anymore. Harry was sure that his heart would never be mended if that happened.

(Y/N) was his everything. He never had a love like her before, and he had no intention of having another love ever. He was going to marry her. That was a cold hard fact.

“Harry,” she whimpered as she brought one of her hands back and behind her.

He knew what she wanted, and he gave it to her. Placing his large hand in hers, he intertwined their fingers - flexing his to give hers a soft squeeze.

“Feeling good, baby?” Harry’s chin rested against his chest as he looked down at where his thick cock entered his girlfriend.

(Y/N) just hummed in response, but that wasn’t enough for Harry. Propping one foot up on the mattress, he brought his freehand down and swatted at one of her ass cheeks. “You know that’s not going to cut it.”

Stopping his thrusts, he pulled out which caused (Y/N) to gasp, and she looked over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. She was flipped onto her back faster than she could blink.

Harry’s hands came down to her thighs, and he pushed them apart before plunging back inside of her with one fluid roll of his hips.

“Oh my god,” (Y/N) moaned with her eyes screwed shut. “You’re so fucking deep, H.”

Smirking to himself, Harry leaned down and scraped his teeth against his beautiful girlfriend’s jawline. “Do you like that, (Y/N)? Feeling me so deep in there?”

“Yes, yes,” she panted as he started pounding into her once more. “I love it when you’re this deep. I feel you all the way…all the way in here.”

Placing a hand over her lower stomach, (Y/N) pressed down - eliciting a groan from Harry and another mewl of pleasure from her with just how good that felt. 

(Y/N) was never properly fucked before, and Harry caught onto that by the first time they slept together. She made him work for it, something he didn’t mind doing by any means, but when the time actually came, he was seething at her past lovers at what he had seen. Sexy and confident (Y/N) had retreated into a shell of herself the moment he had her laid out on his mattress. She had asked him to turn almost all the lights off, and the ones that were left on had been turned down. She had asked that he not remove her bra, and that he just pull her panties to the side. It pained him to realize that she didn’t want him to see her fully naked.

That changed before Harry entered her that night. He took his time to kiss over every inch of her skin. To compliment every piece of her that he could see. He let her know that she was by far the prettiest thing he had ever seen in the world. The most beautiful woman to ever be in his bed. He made it clear that no one before her ever compared, and that no one ever would.

By the time he took her home the next morning, (Y/N) had allowed Harry to take her in four different positions, resulting in six orgasms total. It was obvious to both of them that they’d never get enough of each other just after that one night. 

“Squeezin’ my cock so tight. You’re gonna have me coming sooner than I want to,” Harry huffed out a laugh at himself, and it caused (Y/N) to also giggle. “But, fuck, honey, you just feel too damn good. Such a snug little thing.”

His words had (Y/N)’s cunt pulsing around him even more, and he could tell she was right on the edge of her orgasm. 

Sucking on the pad of his thumb, Harry brought it down to start rubbing precise circles against his girlfriend’s clit, and that had her arching her back off the bed.

“Holy shit,” she gasped - toes curling and fists clenching against the pale pink sheets surrounding them. “I’m about to cum.”

Harry watched as (Y/N) threw her head back which resulted in her pretty neck being completely exposed to him. He could feel her walls beginning to clamp down around him, and with one more deep thrust, her orgasm gushed around his length.

“Good girl,” he crooned, leaning down to kiss over (Y/N)’s collarbone. “Such a good girl f’me.”

Once she felt like the air had properly returned to her lungs, (Y/N) blinked her eyes open to stare at the gorgeous man above her.

“Fill me up, please,” she pouted her lips at him as she tapped her fingertips against the spot on her stomach that she had pressed down on earlier. “Right in here.”

“Yeah?” Harry smirked as he gripped onto her hips and angled them up just a little more. “Want it tucked up in there?”

“Mhmm,” (Y/N) hummed with a nod of her head. “I like it when it’s up there that far. It takes longer to drip out of me, and I like feeling it for as long as I can.”

(Y/N) could be dirty when she wanted to be, but he had never heard her say something like that to him before. Choking out a moan, Harry felt the warmth in his lower abdomen boil over, and before he could process it, he was shooting his load inside her slick pussy.

Biting down on her bottom lip, (Y/N) reeled from the feeling of Harry pumping his cum into her. He didn’t stop until he felt like he couldn’t hold himself up with his shaky arms anymore. He collapsed against her chest, and she wrapped her arms around him as they both continued to come down from their highs.

“I love when you wake me up in the middle of the night like that,” (Y/N) played with Harry’s curls as she spoke. “Can we fall back asleep like this?”

“Sure, baby,” Harry puckered a kiss to the top of one of her breasts. “And then when we wake up in a few hours, I’ll continue fucking that same load into you before giving you another."

[missjellyhead]

THOMAS HEWITT X READER | Thomas fucking fem!reader in the middle of the night.

note: I'm back AND I JUST WANT THOMAS FAT FUCKING DICK!

Warnings: nsfw, somnophilia, light dacryphilia.

Thomas is so obsessed with your pussy that he simply can't control himself.

He is constantly pushing his fingers between your wet folds, penetrating as deep as he can, just to feel how you squeeze them. He does this countless times whenever he takes a break from hard work.

Even at night, when you're sleeping peacefully next to him. Thomas hugs you from behind, trapping your smaller body against his chest.

He hopes you don’t get mad at him for touching you in your sleep. He will make sure to apologize later. You're so adorable now that he can't control the urge to fuck you, he can't control his own hands.

But the fact is that Thomas touches you slowly, his unmasked face pressed against your neck as he inhales your scent.

Thomas loves your smell! He could stay there for a few minutes, but his erection starts to bother him. He needs to be inside you as quickly as possible.

Thomas is trying not to lose control as he positions himself between your legs and pulls your pants down. Then he sees your naked pussy and, oh my God, he feels like a wild animal in heat.

He never had that feeling before he met you.

Thomas is always very concerned about making penetration as comfortable as possible for you. He knows he has a dick fat enough to make you cry if you're not properly prepared.

But to be honest, he hopes that his fingers inside you previously, even if for a short time, were enough.

It was not enough.

Because when he takes his dick out of his pajama pants and sticks it in your waiting hole, you suddenly wake up with a start, letting out a tearful scream.

But don’t worry, it’s just your grown man trying to relieve his own lust.

Thomas looks at you in silent apology, but doesn't stop pushing to give you time to adjust.

He holds your arms, guiding them to his own shoulders, encouraging you to hold him firmly.

And you do.

And Thomas wastes no time in accelerating his movements.

He hopes you don't make too much noise, or you'll wake up the other family members. Privately, he hopes Hoyt doesn't wake up. Oh, that old sheriff is definitely the locksmith type, and no one can tell me otherwise!

He places a large hand over your mouth, muffling your tearful but undeniably needy sounds.

You're just a sweet little thing who needs to cum, aren't you? But look, Thomas has worked so hard all day, he's so tired and needy. ~ Isn't it fair that he cums first?

Your pleasure always comes first for him, but tonight you will have to wait a little.

He will reward you, don’t worry.

Thomas grabs your legs and pushes them up, leaving you as exposed as possible. He needs more space to fuck you properly. He wants to make sure he's getting his dick as deep as possible.

Thomas closes his eyes tightly, feeling your hot, wet walls squeezing his dick.

He usually lasts a long time, but now he is completely desperate.

He looks at you, all sweaty and cute thrown on the sheets just for him. He can see a tear running down his face and makes sure to wipe it away quickly. Are you crying because it feels so good or is it just a vestige of the initial pain? Thomas is in doubt, until he hears you moan against his hand in such a lascivious way.

This view combined with your delicious pussy is enough to make him cum.

In a few seconds, you feel Thomas’ sperm filling your hole to the limit.

When he pulls out, cum oozes out of your pussy, running down the curve of your ass and dripping onto the sheets.

Thomas uses his fingers to push the cum back into your pussy.

Even though Thomas is panting now, exhausted and ready to sleep, he keeps stroking your pussy, just to make sure you feel good enough.

Then he looks at you and tilts his head to the side.

Do you know what he means: do you need to cum or are you too tired to do so? He just needs your confirmation.

If you are tired, still a little drowsy and prefer to go back to sleep, he will hug you and pull you close. He will rub your back until you fall asleep. However, Thomas will still want you to feel great the next day when you are finally rested. He will make you cum as many times as you want.

But if you're already wide awake after he fucks you like a damn fleshlight, then he'll be between your legs in the same second, sucking your pussy. Thomas doesn't even care about tasting his own cum. He never said anything, but he thinks it's better that way, because he can taste the mixed tastes, yours and his.

sorry for any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language

[nanamis-bigtie]

more than friends

↬ megumi x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no excessive body descriptions), aged-up character, piv sex, creampie, friends to lovers, there was only one bed, mutual pinning, bottom reader, reader is a sorcerer summary: you've known megumi since you were kids, so the enforced stay in a single room with double futon doesn't seem much of a problem. however the proximity has exposed feelings that have been meticulously hidden for years word count: 2k a/n: higuruma was my favorite of the three options but i've enjoyed writing this so, so much. please forgive me those little painful details ^^" please, look out for next voting soon! we're finally leaving the vanilla sphere! tag list: @thesacredfanfics

Futon in your bedroom is spacious even for a double standard but you still somehow ended up squeezed on one—yours—side. Enveloped by the duvet from the top and him from what seems all sides at once, you arouse in seconds. It's too hot for your comfort but you know better than trying to sneak any part of your body outside; fall in the mountains put you through it already and it was still light when you reached the ryokan, at night it can be only colder and worse than any inconvenience and awkwardness crawling under your skin once you fully realize the situation you've fallen into.

Megumi sneaked himself close, his torso flush to your back, crevices of your bodies filling each other with embarrassing perfection. One arm thrown above your head, the other wrapped around your middle, fingers looking for warmth under the hem of your t-shirt, he's cradling his face into the nape of your neck. You can feel his hot breath under your ear, soft and barely audible but deep, filling his chest to the brim as it bears down on you with each draft.

He's not holding you tight but when, in initial shock, you try to shake him off, he clamps the grip until you stop squirming. You're allowed to breathe free again, but he throws one leg over yours for a good measure. You could turn around, you assume, but you're definitely not going anywhere without waking him up first.

"It's not a big deal," Megumi said himself a few hours earlier when the owner of the ryokan apologized in the politest words for the lack of free single rooms. It wasn't a spacious inn in the first place and now, with the main road destroyed by flash flooding, you weren't the only ones looking for last minute shelter.

You didn't protest, hungry, soaking wet and tired. It was a long day, already a pain in the ass before the rain had grown in intensity, as if gods decided to sink the cursed site you two had been called for. You crawled to the local hotel on your last legs, determined to stay in the worst conditions possible, as long as you were given a warm bath and a cup of hot tea.

It wasn't a big deal indeed. Megumi wasn't just a coworker, he was a friend you've known for years, even before you both entered high school. There was even time when he was considered a perfect candidate for your husband—a source of never-ending jokes and teasing from Gojo-sensei—but the project collapsed with the old system of great jujutsu families, and your strong yet relentlessly platonic relationship continued to bloom without the burden of tradition. The label of "lovebirds" clung to you for good, like a ghost of your late teacher cackling over your heads, survived even the graduation and intense focus on your careers for the few years to come. Now both first grades, you haven't been seeing each other much outside occasional contact at work, but nearly intimate closeness remained intact.

As if not a single second has been lost between you.

There was no trace of embarrassment as you shed your clothes to the more or less dry layer. Megumi didn't even blink when you asked him to dry your hair after a shower, your hands didn't budge when you were putting moisturizer on his facial scars as he was already drifting away while still sitting. You crawled on the futon at the same time, with a safe and respectful distance between you, and fell asleep in no time.

But now, a few hours later, a certain border has been crossed, leaving you nearly breathless in front of the horde of possibilities you've had no idea they're within your reach.

It's...somewhat terrifying how, once initial shock has faded, comfortable Megumi's arms feel around you. His touch is not alien to you, but he's never been one to relish in physical contact, yet with just a friend. It has no right to be so familiar and safe. It has no right to open your heart like a barely scabbed wound and soak you with yearning and hunger. You can't complain about lack of physical pleasure, you haven't tasted enough loneliness to be desperate for any kind of bodily warmth next to you. Yet, you're trembling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and when his hold loosens a little and he rolls to his back, painful spasm runs through you, almost dragging a sob out of you.

You follow his move, now embracing him yourself and nestling between his side and the arm that remained close to you. Megumi takes a deeper breath, immediately scoops you close and hums, as if with approval, when you slot your head on his chest. You can hear—feel—his heartbeat, calm and welcoming, so recognizable even if it's the first time you can witness it from so close.

Rains have ceased, almost full moon pours silver light through the uncovered windows. You can see every crevice of his appearance and the sight takes you a little aback. It's Megumi, without a doubt, but not until now you pondered how much he changed. How long has it been already? His face lost the last remains of androgynous subtlety, his cheeks covered by harsh two-day scruff and his worry lines much deeper when he frowns, your gentle touch ticklish. You trace every single one of them, trace the scars around his eye, trace his jaw, square and manly, dear gods, when has this boy, so pretty that the girls at school constantly bickered behind his back, turned into a man?

When all this time flew over your heads? Next year, the both of you will grow older than Gojo-sensei.

Only his eyelashes remained exactly the same, throwing shadows under his eyes and filling you with jealousy for their length and thickness. You can't help but brush them with a thumb, once, twice, until his eyelids crack open, and he looks straight at you.

"For how long will you keep fondling me?" Heavy with sleep, Megumi's voice is low and coarse, filling you with need both well-known and alien. You have never felt anything like that for him (well, have you really?), and there's a shadow of anxiety behind it—but you can't bring yourself to take your hands off him.

Silence between you is thick like tar but not uncomfortable, rather cautious as you both ponder over the next move, equally unwilling to part your ways. Megumi breaks first when his hand, rather accidentally, brushes yours after he's wiped sleepiness off his face, "Well, I haven't told you to stop."

Duvet falls off your shoulders as you climb his lap, straddling him comfortably and letting the moonlight soak your figure. Megumi inhales deep and sharp under you, his hands finding your hips in no time and nestling you right over the undeniably growing hardness in his boxers. You both ignore it for now, drunk with the sights alone, rediscovering each other from this new, the most intimate angle. He lets you slide his undershirt under his chin, groans deep and low when you squeeze his pecs, soft against your palms with their size. He's always been rather slim, but he's gained serious musculature over the years, still not the biggest guy you've seen around, but so different from Megumi that's somehow, despite everything, stuck in your head for years.

You find more and more distinctions as you explore him further south. Soft hair grazes your skin especially down his navel, a trail leading you to the edge of his boxers and prompting you to peel them away. He mewls, relieved, when you do so, his erection springing free. It fits in your hand just right, leaking for you even before you give him a proper stroke. He must have been humping against you in sleep, his bulge a detail you've missed in the haze of different feelings and sensations, and he's enjoying the sweet relief now, his chest and abs twitching for you in pleasure.

The first itching wave washes over you too and you reach between your legs just to find your underwear to be soaked. You're ready so easily and fast it's almost embarrassing, especially under the weight of his gaze, attentive despite sleepiness lingering in its corners, fixed on thin threads of your arousal glistening between your fingers in the silver light.

"Come here," he mutters, nails sinking in the softness of your ass as he desperately tries to close the last inches of distance between you two.

You follow eagerly, biting on a moan as if your dignity depended on it when his tip slides between your folds. You haven't prepared yourself thoroughly but from what you felt in your hand you assess he shouldn't be a problem. 

You impale yourself in one, smooth move, both of you groaning in pleasure and release, finally sating the hunger neither of you knew it's lingering in you.

Megumi lets go of your hips to lift himself to sitting, wraps arms around your back and pulls you into him so suddenly it yanks air out of your lungs. You return the proximity with your legs around him, ankles crossed behind him to sway yourself steady. The rhythm is lazy, as deep as slow, barely earning some friction for the both of you. Sometimes, his hips thrust up, grazing your core just right and having you mewl in pleasure; every time he hushes you up with slow kisses peppered down your jaw and neck.

His hair is as soft as you remember but his scent is sharper, so manly and mixed with the complimentary shower gel from the ryokan's bathroom. Young Megumi always smelled black coffee to you for some reason and there's still a tinge of it lingering at the back of each breath you take off him. Face hidden against his neck, you soak yourself in nostalgia and novelty alike, surrendering to his touch, greedily wandering along your body. He doesn't spare an inch of it, catching up for years of self-imposed neglect, at times even rough, when he can't stop himself and steals another thrust deep into you, his manly, deep voice breaking when you clench around him.

"I'm gonna cum if you keep doing this," he reminds you of no barrier of protection between you—but you don't care and don't want to think of separating from him for even a second. You've waited for this for too long, it feels so good to finally find a place in his arms, a place that has waited for you since the first time your eyes met with a different intention than a mere look.

You want him to fill you up, you want to feel everything so deep, almost reaching your cervix, and you don't stop even after you reach your peak first, swaying your hips with the same eagerness even if your strength starts to fade away.

Megumi holds you close through it, his arms around you so strong and tight you feel his touch deep in your bones, and finally gives in to pleasure too, fulfilling your untold wish to the last drop.

Your moves slow down and cease naturally, you catch your breaths, snuggled into each other. Megumi's shoulders shake, be it pleasure or tears, and his hands slowly slip down your sweaty back, until he finds your hips—and suddenly sways forward, until you're flat on the futon again, your legs over you, embracing his middle when he finds a new comfortable spot, deep inside and right on top of you.

"More." His voice breaks into begging and he starts to thrust into you without waiting for your answer, with the power of the whole weight his body offers. "Don't let go. Please. I need you more."

"I'm not letting you go," you promise—and you keep it, through this round, and for a few next to come, until the sun replaces the moon and finds your naked, sweaty bodies, entangled with each other in the middle of the only futon left in the last free ryokan in those mountains.

[ivoirerose]

full of me | rafe cameron

Summary: Rafe wakes you up in the middle of the night feeling horny. Repost from my old account

Warnings: smut, language, choking

==================================

A warm arm tightening around your chest slowly rouses you from your sleep, mind trying to grip onto the last of your dream. The soft fingers flickering over your stomach pull you the rest of the way out, and the lips lingering on your neck set you burning.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness, the only light the dim glow of the lamp turned low in the corner, but you don’t need light to know whose touch is setting you alight. Only one person can get this reaction from you, body yearning for him even in your sleep.

Rafe Cameron nips your neck gently, teeth finding the exact spot that has your toes curling with ease, like it has done a million times before, and you reach a hand back to slide through his hair.

“There she is,” his lips find your ear, and that deep raspy voice could make you come with just a command, you’re sure if it.

“Shit,” you half-moan. “What time is it?”

“Late. Early. Don’t know and don’t care. Stop thinking about the time and start thinking about me.”

“I’m always thinking about you,” you whimpered as his hand grasped under your shirt, delicate fingers pinching your nipple in a way that had your back arching.

“Jesus, Rafe..” you moaned out softly as he fully palmed you before sliding his hand down to your underwear. He answered with a moan of his own as he found you wet and wanting.

“God, baby, are you ever not ready for me?” He muttered into your ear, circling your clit with a delicate touch that was driving you mad.

“Always ready for you, always want you,” you answered, trying to push yourself harder against his hand, crying out as he tapped you harshly, the pain and pleasure an intoxicating mix.

“Be a good girl,” he warned and you reluctantly stilled your hips. “There we go. You take what I give, remember. Don’t be a greedy whore.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good, promise.”

It felt like forever before he finally slid his fingers down, thumb coming up to replace the pressure on your clit as he curled into you, and he’d wound you up so much you were instantly on the edge.

“I can feel you squeezing baby, don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, and that only pushed you closer, the sound running straight through your body.

“I can’t hold it, Rafe, please,” you begged.

“You can and you will,” and you knew an order when you heard one.

You tried to clear your mind, to think about anything other than Rafe’s hands on you, his body pressed against your back, his hot breath on your neck. He waited until the very last second, until you felt like you were about to explode, to finally whisper in your ear.

“Let go. Now.”

And you did, gushing over his hand, curses leaving your lips that would make anyone within hearing distance blush.

You’d barely had a moment to calm down before he was flipping you onto your back, hand wrapped around your neck, and he was sliding into you, feeling the last of your convulsions around him as you came down from your high.

“Fuck!” He hissed between his teeth, pulling your leg onto his hip, the angle forcing him deeper, hitting places you hadn’t known existed before you met him.

His grip tightened slightly as he leaned down to you, forehead pressed against yours.

“So fucking full of me, aren’t you? How’s it feel, baby?”

You know words came out of your mouth, but in your haze your mind couldn’t even discern the babble you were spouting between sobs of pleasure. Whatever it was, Rafe seemed pleased, his little forehead kiss a loving contrast to the way he was moving in you.

“Come on, I know you got more in you. Be a good girl for me and come around my cock.”

Your body knew how to behave even if your mind didn’t always, and you were clenching before he’d even had time to take a breath, the feeling sparking his own orgasm as he buried his face in your neck.

He leaned back on his heels, looking down between your legs at where he was leaking out of you, and smirked.

“Well if you weren’t full of me before, you definitely are now.”

[peachesofteal]

Light On Simon Riley/female reader (mama) & Emmaline Valentine's Day special This was heavily requested when I was still writing for these three. Light On is finished, but holidays make me sentimental. Consider this a little treat for Valentine's Day

The aquarium is a zoo.

Once, the throngs of people, masses of children and parents swirling around and screaming, running and jumping all over the place would make him uneasy, unsettle him, drive him back to his apartment, to the dark.

Once.

Now, he navigates it well. Confidently. He's here with his family, his girls. He even enjoys it, taking in all the tanks, the fish, the stingrays, the sharks, and he's proud, when Emma manages to screech out the word fish here and there, giving her positive encouragement, sliding the cloth mask down to place a quick kiss to the top of her head.

He grounds himself with one hand on the small of your back, the other pushing an empty stroller. Having you close, within arm's reach, numbs the anxiety constantly buzzing in the back of his mind, and he tucks you into his side every time you'll let him. Emmaline occasionally peers at him over your shoulder, or when he's not immediately in her line of sight, whips her head back and forth, trying to figure out where he's gone.

"'m right here." He soothes, rubbing her back. "Right here, baby girl." You roll your eyes, smile sweet for him, for her, and lean forward, smacking a big kiss on her cheek before pointing at the curved glass of the tank.

"Look, Emma!" A group of jellyfish drift weightlessly in the middle of the room, and he urges the two of you forward so she can see, unbothered by the five and six year olds that jostle one another around his legs. She shrieks with glee, giggling like mad when she smacks her hand against the glass as hard as she can, earning her an immediate, soft redirection from you.

"Gentle, baby. Gentle." Her little brow furrows, frustrated, and she bobbles in your arms, turning again to find him. He's about to reach for her, give your back a break, when she starts to babble, high pitched sounds gurgling into a jumble of words and-

"Dada." Your eyes go round. "Dadadada..."

Simon's heart breaks open inside his chest, torrent of emotion crashing over him, washing him away in the wake. A palm claps over your mouth, dropped open in shock, and he sees joy in your eyes, joy and pain, the presence of a ghost still haunting your happiness, like one haunts his.

"Here, uh." you lift her into his arms, and he stares down at her sweet, cherub face, cheeks swelling with an almost toothless smile, tiny fingers stretching for his mask.

"Dada!" He doesn't answer, his silence frustrating, and she grows more demanding, happy pitch changing into a growl of dissatisfaction. "Dada, dada!"

"Shhhh, hey. It's okay." He bounces, cuddling her close. "I'm here." You stand back, expression heavy with grief, light with happiness, and he locks eyes with you.

He doesn't need to speak, to ask.

Are you okay? Are you okay with this?

Your hands clasp together, and you nod.

After a beat, he clears his throat. "How did she..."

"I might have been calling you dada, at home, when I refer to you, you know?" You're wearing the mask of a million emotions, embarrassment and shame, sadness, and elation. They all mix together to bring more tears to your eyes, and you laugh uneasily as you wipe them. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know how to feel, about her saying it, and I didn't ask you, either. It's... it's, I,-"

"I know, sweetheart. I know. It's okay." He steps close, Emmaline chewing on the edge of his mask, burrowed in his chest. His forehead taps yours, and he closes his eyes. He doesn't know how to thank you, for this gift, this love, this life you've given him, so all he can say is the three words he says all the time, the three words he whispers into your skin at night, the three words he gives Emma when he tucks her into bed. "I love you." Your fingers hold tight to his, watery smile lighting up the entire room.

"We love you too."