#curtains blown open

[lacunasbalustrade]

Wait I have a big brain idea to even out our interactions. I send you something i like and you return it w something you like and we can talk about both

clicked on this so fast ⏩⏩ a* bait I approve START

[enha-stars]

✧ happy mother’s day, mamas (18+)

Pairing: Husband!Heeseung x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: It’s mother’s day and your husband and daughter bring you breakfast in bed. They each have different ways of showing you how much they love you, their mama.

Warnings: Kissing, Mentions of Pregnancy, SMUT, minor food play, fingering, unprotected sex (don't), pregnancy kink, religious imagery, down bad heeseung, oral (f rec), degrading & praising

A/n: I wanted to post this for mother's day. but oh well. Also, this was supposed to be a drabble i have no idea how it got to be 5k.

As the warm rays of the morning sun slipped through the parted curtains, painting the room in a soft golden glow, you stirred beneath the warm blanket. Your eyelids fluttered open, welcoming the gentle warmth that accompanied the sun’s gentle ascent into the sky. 

The room was still and quiet, save for the distant chirping of birds greeting the morning. With a contented sigh, you stretched out your limbs, yawning as the crisp sheets cradled your pregnant body. As gently as you could, you turned onto your back, reaching out to the space beside you. 

You frowned when you were met with more mattress, your husband’s warm body long gone. Grunting, you slowly sit up. One hand beside you while the other wrapped around your belly, wanting to make sure that the fetus inside didn’t feel any jerk movements. 

Back propped up against the headboard, you close your eyes as a gentle smile plays on your lips. Now that you were sitting up, you could clearly smell the wafting aroma of waffles and chicken bacon. You eye the empty space beside you and pat the cold mattress. 

You didn’t even feel Heeseung slide out of bed. Usually, you’re very in tune to him while you’re sleeping and he’s even more in harmony with you. 

Before you could dwell on how much effort it probably took him to unwrap his arms from your body and tiptoe out of the bedroom, a loud crash outside your bedroom jolts you upright. You grip the blanket as your foot twitches, subconsciously ready to approach the mess. 

You hear quiet giggles and your husband’s voice softly whispering, “It’s okay, sweetness. I’ll clean it up later.”

As the door quietly clicks open, your smile widens at the sounds of your daughter’s little huffs and your husband's noises of encouragement. You watch with wide eyes as your daughter waddles into your bedroom in her pink basketball pajamas, holding a glass of mango juice. 

Heeseung follows brightly behind her, holding a tray filled to the brim with food. His eyes travel from his daughter’s little form to you, laying in bed. He makes eye contact with your shiny, sleep-filled eyes and he watches as you visibly soften. 

His grin turns into a full blown smile as he nears closer. You look so beautiful, sitting there with your hair a bit unruly and unkempt. Your night gown is wrinkled and one of your hands is laid flat on your belly. You smile brightly at him as your eyes soak in the scene before you. 

Heeseung stands tall in his blue basketball pajama shorts that match your daughter’s. They hang lowly on his hips and his lean chest is exposed, making your cheeks warm at the sight. Your eyes travel downwards and your smile turns emotional as you watch your daughter trying to balance the glass in her hand. 

“Hi, mama,” your little girl whispers. You almost can’t control the emotions swirling in your eyes at the sight of her shiny eyes and full cheeks. She looks so much like your husband and you’re thankful for it everyday. 

“You don’t have to whisper, flower. Mama’s awake.” Heeseung grins at his little girl, finding her absolutely adorable. Dahlia was only five, so she couldn’t really see you as she stood at the foot of your bed. 

“Hi, flower,” you greet her, softly. At your voice, she giggles and walks to your side of the bed. She smiles brightly at you, her front tooth missing. You coo at her as you set the glass of mango juice on the side table and pull her up. 

“Careful, baby,” Heeseung frowns. He watches carefully as you pull your daughter into your lap, making sure you don't exert yourself. He balances the tray with one hand and grabs the foldable table before walking to your side of the bed. 

In your arms, your daughter immediately melts. Her little arms wrap around your chest and she presses her face into your shoulder. You kiss the top of her head as you rub her back. 

Ever since you found out that you were pregnant, almost five months ago, Heeseung had been encouraging Dahlia to sleep in her own bedroom. It was going really well for the most part, but some nights were harder than others. 

“Missed you, mama.” Her quiet voice mumbles against your skin. You pout at her before nuzzling your nose into her hair. “I missed you too, flower.” 

“Dahlia, sweetness, will you help me set up the table for mama?” Heeseung’s voice pulls your daughter out of your arms as she immediately nods and slides off your lap. You and Heeseung watch fondly as she quickly pulls the table legs out and sets the table over your thighs, mindful of your big belly. 

You shuffle a bit on the mattress and fix the blanket before you nod at Heeseung. He sets the tray of food on the table and steps back. He watches your reaction carefully, nervously biting his bottom lip. His eyes fall on his daughter and he bites back a smirk as she mirrors his exact expression. 

You stare at the tray in disbelief. On it, was a plate of three waffles, a smaller plate with chicken bacon strips, and a bowl of fruit. A singular pink dahlia rests in a thin vase and you pick it, bringing it to your nose. 

Heeseung watches you with a stupid smile as you sniff the flower. The dahlia was an important flower to both of you. It was the first flower he had ever picked and given to you, leading to your daughter. He, without fail, always gave you one on special occasions. 

A reminder of the incident that brought you both together. It was a reminder of the softer things in life, of your shared love. 

You set the flower back in the vase and look up at Heeseung, eyes teary as emotion renders you speechless. Your daughter sits beside you, eyes wide in anticipation. She has been incredibly excited for Mother’s Day, eating Heeseung’s ear off with different ideas. 

“I think she likes it, Dahlia,” Heeseung whispers to his daughter. He sits on the edge of the mattress, as close as he can to you. He rests a hand on the other side of your legs and stares softly at you, waiting for the rush of emotion to subside. 

“Really?” Dahlia asks, a little disappointed. “Why is Mama not saying anything?” 

You let out a breathy laugh and Heeseung is so entranced by it he almost forgets to answer his little girl. “Give her a second, flower.” He turns his head to Dahlia and smiles at her focused expression. She looks a lot like you when she is focused, or scheming. “Remember what I said about patience?” 

Dahlia sighs and solemnly nods. You laugh at her fallen expression and inch closer, curious. Heeseung was always murmuring little reminders to your daughter whenever he could. “What did papa say about patience, little flower?” 

Dahlia sits back and purses her little lips before glancing at Heeseung who stares at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiles at you sheepishly before shuffling closer to you. “Papa said I have to be more pat… patient,” she stutters. “Cuz the baby is coming.” 

You glance at Heeseung and he simply shrugs at you. You smile at her and pat the empty space next to you. She drags herself closer to you, resting her head on your arm. “Thank you for being patient for mama, Dahlia.” 

Instead of responding, she tucks her face into your side and Heeseung laughs at her shyness. With him, she was always slightly hyper. But with you, she was incredibly soft. He couldn’t blame her, of course. You were the light of their lives. 

“Thank you for breakfast, my loves.” You’re staring at Heeseung and he inches closer. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. You close your eyes in contentment and only open them when you feel your cheeks being squished. 

You open your eyes to your daughter’s hands on either side of your face and before you can say anything, she kisses you hard on the lips. You stare at her in surprise and Heeseung’s jaw falls to the floor. 

“Happy mother’s day, mama.” She pulls at your cheeks, pinching them. “I love you.” 

You try your best to smile at her given the circumstances and she giggles at your expression. She sits back beside you and Heeseung clears his throat. You see the turmoil in his eyes and pop a blueberry in your mouth. 

“Dahlia,” Heeseung says. Your daughter looks up at him curiously. “You can’t kiss mama on the lips.” 

You snort at his seriousness and immediately bite back your grin when he throws you a look. You say nothing as you gently pat your stomach and pick up a piece of bacon, taking a large bite. 

Dahlia frowns and tilts her head in the same endearing way that Heeseung does. “Why not? You kiss mama on the lips.” 

Heeseung’s frown deepens. “Yes, but I am her husband. You’re her daughter.” 

“So?” 

Heeseung blanks. She looks so much like you as she stares at him with narrowed eyes. He almost questions his entire argument when her eyes twinkle. He loves her so much. 

“So… don’t kiss her on the lips.” 

You want to laugh at his weak argument but he shoves a piece of banana into your mouth before you can. 

“Where can I kiss mama then?” 

Before Heeseung can answer, you softly grab Dahlia’s chin and turn her head towards you, afraid that your husband will start something he won’t be able to finish. As her eyes meet yours, they immediately soften and her defiance melts away. Heeseung scoffs under his breath. 

“You can kiss me anywhere except my lips. Okay, pretty flower?” 

Dahlia doesn’t even argue as she nods, accepting your words without a hitch. Heeseung laughs in disbelief as you cut a small piece of a waffle and bring it to Dahlia’s lips. She swallows eagerly and you ruffle her hair. 

You three sit in comfortable silence for a bit as you eat the food that your husband and daughter have made, feeding them as well. After a few bites, Heeseung shakes his head and simply watches as you and Dahlia eat. Syrup spills down your lips and he wipes it away with his thumb, staring darkly at you as he sucks on his finger.

He rests his hand on your belly and smiles when he feels the baby kick. He shifts closer, his heart swelling in content. 

“He’s kicking pretty early in the morning,” you say, pulling Heeseung out of his daze. 

Heeseung nods and begins rubbing your belly. You watch him, enamored. Ever since your first pregnancy, Heeseung had a habit of just touching you. His hand was always on your stomach or he was rubbing your back. 

“Can I go watch Cocomelon?” 

Heeseung blinks at Dahlia and he knows you’re about to refuse, but he wants to have you to himself. You look so beautiful, so enticing, and he wants to show his appreciation for you in another way. 

He usually can’t help himself around you, but when you’re pregnant, he loses all control. You look so ethereal as you glow, your body filling out to support another life. He was obsessed with how your belly swelled, carrying his child. 

You were already bewitching to him, but now you were divine. If anyone asked him who he prayed to, he would say your name with such care, such grace. You were making him a father again, who else could he thank besides you? 

“Sure, sweetness.” He says. “Go ahead.” 

Dahlia kisses your arm and then kisses your stomach before she kisses Heeseung’s nose. You both watch her quietly as she slides off the bed and waddles out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

You swallow and stare up at Heeseung, smiling softly at him. He moves the tray of food on the other side of you and shifts closer. His arms are on either side of you and he stares down at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. 

“Good morning, baby.” 

You laugh and lean back into the headboard. “Morning, Seung.” You lift your hand and cup his cheek, smiling softly when he leans into your touch. 

“How are you this fine morning, beautiful?” 

There’s a glint in his eyes but you can see the curiosity swimming in them as well. He wants to make sure you’re okay. That you aren’t uncomfortable, that the baby hasn’t been bothering you. He’s always thinking about you. Well, you, the baby boy you’re carrying, and his baby girl. 

“I’m doing amazing,” you tell him, honestly. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“This is nothing,” he tells you. “You should have heard some of Dahlia’s ideas. She’s just as imaginative as you.” You grin at his teasing but then his eyes soften and he laces your hands together. “You know I’d give you the world, mamas.” 

You squeeze his hand three times, unable to respond. When Dahlia was born, Heeseung began calling you ‘mama’ so she would pick it up. Whenever he said it around her, it warmed your heart.

When he said it like this, all low and enticingly, it made your insides flip inside out. It was different, because when he said it like this, it was like he wanted to make you a mama, again. 

“I know,” you whisper. You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles.

Heeseung wants to do unspeakable things to you but he glances at the plate and realizes you haven’t eaten enough. He leans forward and presses his lips softly against yours, humming at the sweetness of the syrup and the savoury flavour of the bacon on your lips. 

He pulls away too soon and pulls the tray closer to you. He leans back and you watch as he cuts a piece of waffle and bacon, making a proper bite before lifting it to your lips. You blink at him and he parts his lips. “Say ah, baby.” 

You roll your eyes but let him feed you anyways. Heeseung smiles at you when you chew slowly, glad that your nausea hasn’t been acting up. He was a bit anxious about it but Dahlia had been very insistent and he was a weak man. 

Heeseung makes another bite for you and like the obedient little wife you are, you open your mouth. A bit of syrup spills from the waffle and drips down your collarbones. Before you could even think of wiping it, Heeseung leans down and licks it off your skin. 

You shiver when his tongue makes contact with your cool skin. He licks the sticky syrup from your body and then presses open mouth kisses to your collarbones. You sigh, eyes shutting, as Heeseung licks and sucks your skin. 

His kisses travel up your neck, nibbling and biting. He presses a wet kiss to your jaw and pulls away, eyes ablaze. You’re slightly panting as you squeeze your thighs shut. Heeseung tilts his head and brushes his nose against yours. Your hands are on his shoulders, running up and down his bare chest.

“Seung, aren’t you hungry?” You’re slightly out of breath, and his closeness isn’t helping. You can’t help but feel a little guilty. He woke up early to make you breakfast and he has yet to eat anything.

Heeseung shakes his head and his lips curve upwards into a menacing smirk. “I just want you.” 

You hear the double meaning in his voice, you can feel it against your skin with the way he was looking at you. He made you feel beautiful, like the stretching of your skin and swollen feet meant nothing to him.

“You have me.” 

Heeseung’s lips hover above your own. “Any way I want?” 

You tilt your chin upwards and press your lips against his in a short kiss. “However you want.” 

Grinning, Heeseung pushes himself back and stands up. You blink at his sudden movements and watch as he lifts the tray and table. He folds the table and sets it against the wall and then makes his way to the door. 

He turns back to you and grins at you in a way that reminds you of high school and janitor closets. “I hope you’re ready, baby.” You watch him leave your bedroom with heated eyes, instantly shifting further on the bed. 

Heeseung walks down the hallway and into the kitchen. He sets the tray down on the counter and fills a pink sippy cup with water. Twisting the lit on, he quietly walks into the family room, eyes falling on his daughter laying on her stomach on the couch. 

“Dahlia, flower, you shouldn’t lay on your stomach.” At her father’s voice, Dahlia instantly sits up and smiles brightly at him. She sits properly and pats the seat next to her. 

“Papa, sit with me.” 

Heeseung’s eyes soften and he feels a little guilty, but his wife is waiting patiently for him in bed so he doesn’t dwell on the guilt for too long. He kisses Dahlia on the head and hands her the cup. Instantly, she brings the chewed straw to her lips. 

“Sorry, sweetness. Mama isn’t feeling too well so I’m gonna lay with her for a bit, okay?” Heeseung winces as Dahlia’s eyes widen in concern and before she could bolt down the hall, he pinches her cheek. “She ate too much and now she wants to nap. You know she has to nap, right?”

Dahlia nods, water dripping from her chin. “Cuz of the baby, right?”

Heesueng nods, a surge of love making his heart swell. “Exactly. And you’re not a baby anymore, right?” 

Instantly, Dahlia shakes her head, almost looking offended at such accusations. “No! I’m a big girl.” 

Heeseung scoops her up and laughs when she giggles, fauxing thrashing her arms. He nuzzles his nose into her stomach, heart content as she laughs loudly. “You are a big girl now, flower. Which means you’ll knock and only enter when we give permission, right?” 

Still laughing, Dahlia nods aggressively. Confident in himself and her, he kisses her entire face before setting her back down on the couch. As the next Cocomelon song plays, Dahlia loses interest in her father. 

Heeseung stares down at her for a few seconds before slipping away. He doesn’t know how he got here. He’s not sure who he saved in his past life, but he’s grateful for it. He never would have thought that he’d be this happy and content, but he’s immensely thankful. 

He quietly twists the door open and slips into the bedroom, locking the door. At the sound, you look up from your phone, instantly setting it down. Heeseung leans against the door, staring at you. You look so heavenly, laying there just waiting to be ravished by him.

You feel small under his eyes and given the circumstances, it’s ironic. He stands there in nothing but blue shorts and yet, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. His hair is all tousled and he looks delicious. 

Slowly, Heeseung walks towards you. His eyes are dark with something familiar and you can feel the heat of his gaze affect you. You watch with shallow breaths as he reaches the foot of your shared bed. He falls onto the mattress and crawls to you, tongue sliding across his bottom lip. 

When he reaches you, he slots his leg between yours and settles his arms on either side of you. His breathing is almost as erratic as yours and you waste no time as you pull him into a heated kiss, arms wrapping around his neck. 

Your lips pressed against his as you kissed him roughly, tired of the soft and safe kisses you both had shared the entire morning. Heeseung tilts his head and further deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Tongues, teeth, and lips crash together in perfect harmony. 

Heeseung’s knee rubs against your bare core as he presses himself further into you. Your hands travel up and down his back before you run a hand through his hair, pulling the long strands unconsciously. 

Heeseung moans into the kiss and you swallow it, tracing his bottom lip with your tongue. He kisses you roughly before pulling away, immediately kissing down your jaw to your neck. His teeth graze your skin as he nibbles and sucks, and your head falls back, giving him more access. 

With perfected practice, he kisses down your body. He shifts himself slightly back as he kisses down your clothed breasts, sucking and biting through the flimsy material. You whimper when his tongue pokes and prods your sensitive nipples. He quickly unbuttons your gown and kisses your exposed breasts, tongue swirling against your hardened nipples.

He kisses down your stomach, gentle as continues to unbutton your gown. He covers your entire covered belly with kisses and soft praises. He continues downward and unbuttons the last few buttons, leaving you bare and exposed to him. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles. 

You look so beautiful like this he almost can’t take it. Instead, he kisses down your stomach until he’s reached your pussy. He lays on his stomach and looks up at you. You can only see him because you’re propped up on the headboard, but the sight of your husband between your legs isn't one you want to ever miss. 

Gently, Heeseung lifts each of your legs and places them a bit farther, forcing you to open yourself for him. He leans in and presses his nose against your cunt. Your hips jerk upwards at the feeling of him nosing your clit but he holds them down. 

“So wet, baby,” he mumbles. He rubs his nose further into you, making you moan at the feeling. “Such a naughty girl,” he grins as he brings his hand to your pussy, rubbing your arousal all over your clit. You can barely breathe at the feeling of his nose and fingers. “Getting so wet while your baby girl is down the hall.” You whimper when he kisses your clit. “My dirty mama.” 

Before you could say anything, he starts to plant wet, open-mouthed kisses along your thigh, alternating between nibbling and sucking on the tender flesh before tracing a wet path down your thigh to your dripping center. Your fingers weave into his hair as he eagerly explores you.

A moan escapes Heeseung's lips as he delves his tongue inside. Your body arches in response, teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the nearly escaping cry. His nose nudges against your swollen folds while his tongue expertly works its magic within you. A low hum reverberates through him as he licks and laps, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

Heeseung groans when you tug on his hair, his name slipping quietly from your lips in hurried breaths. The taste of you is perfect, and he can't seem to get enough. Sucking on your sensitive clit, he presses his nose deep within you, grinning against your cunt when you let out a loud cry. 

“Heeseung,” you breathe. Your hands grip his hair tightly and when you pull, pushing him further into your pussy, he groans and the sound makes your legs shake. 

As he fucked his tongue into you, sucking and slurping, he coated three of his fingers in your slick before plunging them in. You try your best to stifle your cry as your cunt sucks his fingers in. Your nerves are on fire and your mind is hazy with pleasure. 

Heeseung matches the pace of his tongue with his fingers and he releases a quiet whimper when you try to close your legs, slightly suffocating him. With his other hand, he pushes at your thigh, gripping tightly. 

“Fuck, fuck, Seung– fuck.” You’re panting, sweaty as pleasure overwhelms you. “I’m gonna cum–” 

Heeseung doesn’t need the warning because he knows. He can feel it in the way you’re sucking him in, the way your legs are shaking as your slick gushes out of you and into his mouth. Pregnancy changed the way you tasted and he loved it, enough to claim being an addict. 

The building of pleasure snapped inside you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and fucked his fingers into you. You sobbed out his name, clenching your eyes shut as your nerves lit on fire and your vision went white. 

The bottom half of his face was shiny with your cum and slick as he continued to lick at you, his tongue working its way from your entrance all the way to your clit. He never wanted your orgasm to end. 

You bit into your hand to muffle another scream as Heeseung kept pushing his fingers inside you, pushing your cum back into your sopping hole. Your knees weakened as he kept lapping all your juices. You could feel your core tighten again until another release washed through you, making you moan and whimper louder. 

Heeseung licked you clean, swallowing the second orgasm swifter than the first. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and pushed his tongue in, lapping up everything your cunt had to offer. 

You breathed heavily as you tried to regain any sense of control back into your legs. Slowly, Heeseung sat up and licked his fingers clean, staring at you fervently as he did. Your pussy throbbed at the sight and loss of him, and you quietly whimpered out his name. 

“You did so good for me, mama.” He crawled towards you and kissed you, tongue brushing against yours, letting you taste yourself. You hummed into his mouth and he swallowed it, his dick incredibly hard and throbbing. 

He pulled away and looked down at you. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and he kissed your eyelids. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, hidden deep within the arousal and he made a decision. 

Heeseung fell on the bed beside you, panting. You slightly turned towards him and he looked at you lovingly, a dazed smile on his lips. You both laid side-by-side. “How are you feeling, baby?” 

You snickered, a bit out of it still. “Like I’ve just cummed twice.” 

Heeseung grins at you and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Are you okay to keep going?” 

You blink at him. “I’m pregnant, Seung. Not terminally ill.” At his unimpressed look, you snort. “Yes, I’m okay.” Heeseung continues to stare at you and you sigh, admitting defeat. “Fine. I’m a little tired.” 

Heeseung nods in understanding and gestures for you to sit up and you do. He takes your pillow and fluffs it before motioning you to lay down. You follow his instructions and sigh in relief as the pressure is off your back. 

You blink up at your husband. “Do me a favour and listen to me blindly for the next two minutes.” Instantly, Heeseung nods as he lays beside you, sweaty and beautiful. You eye his bulge and lick your lips. 

You turn so your back faces Heeseung and he watches and waits patiently. Once you’re comfortable on your side, you slightly turn your head. “Lay on your side, Seungie. Close to me,” you say. 

Heeseung does exactly that. He fluffs his pillow before laying on his side, arm immediately around your waist as his chest presses into your back. You smile at him and he nuzzles his face into your neck. 

“What now, baby?” 

“Now you fuck me silly.” 

Heeseung grins at your words as he nips at your neck. “You’re sure, Y/n?” 

You nod. “Yes. Please, Seung. I need you in me.” 

Heeseung presses an open mouthed kiss to the crevice of your shoulder and he pulls his throbbing cock out of his shorts. He lifts one of your legs and sets it on his own, rubbing his dick against your cunt, coating it in your slick. You hold your breath as he pushes the head slowly inside, moaning out his name as your pussy sucks him in.

You were a bit tighter than usual during pregnancy and it drove Heeseung fucking insane. He squeezes one of your breasts, playing with your nipple as he pushes his cock slowly inside you, bottoming out. 

You moan at the stretch and fullness you feel, arching your back a bit so your ass presses flush against his hips. Heeseung begins slowly rocking his hips against you, sliding his dick in and out of you at the most delicious pace. “That’s it, mamas. Suck me in, just like that.”

“Hee,” you whimpered. 

Heeseung continued to fuck you slowly, one of his hands holding your leg and the other plates with your breasts before travelling down your body and circling your clit. His pace increased and his fingers quickened. Before you could cry out, he shoved the same fingers into your mouth, making you gag on them. 

“Quiet, baby.” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Dahlia is right outside. You don’t want her to know how dirty mama truly is, do you?” At his words, your walls fluttered around his cock and he hissed. “You like that? Huh, baby?” He fucked you harder as your tongue swirled around his fingers. 

His cock twitched and he could feel that you were close. “Cum for me, mamas. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.” 

Your cries echoed through the room as you climaxed, your cum coating his cock as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure. Your body convulsed uncontrollably, your inner walls gripping him with a fierce intensity. Heeseung's own moans mingled with yours as he bit down on your neck, releasing himself within you.

He emptied himself into you, the sound of his release mixing with your own juices, creating a symphony of ecstasy. With each thrust, he filled you completely, his gaze transfixed on the mesmerizing sight of his cock disappearing into your warmth. 

Amidst your incoherent babbling, Heeseung continued to pump into you, utterly lost in the depths of your being. His movements were relentless, driven by a primal urge he couldn't deny. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a mixture of overstimulation and raw emotion overwhelming your senses.

As the final drops of his cum dripped into your core, he gradually slowed his pace, pressing tender kisses to your neck and shoulders. Ever so gently, Heeseung moves to pull out of you but your hand on his waist stops you. Pushing himself further into you, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush against his back. 

You both pant heavily, trying to regain your composure. It doesn’t help that he’s still inside you, but you can’t stomach the loss of him either. You feel so complete when his cock is buried in you and even though your vision is blurry, you love it. 

Heeseung presses a gentle kiss to your neck. “You alright, baby?”

You close your eyes. “Mhm. I love you.” 

Heeseung laughs and buries his face in your hair. “I love you too, Y/n.” He smiles against your skin. “I’m going to get a bath started for you.” Your nails dig deeper into his skin and he grins. 

“In a bit,” you mumble. Your eyes are drooping and you know that you should probably check on your daughter soon, but everything inside you is pulling you to sleep. 

Heeseung can tell you’re falling asleep. The tightness in your shoulders has melted and your breathing is slightly shallow and even. He holds you tightly as you succumb to the darkness. He waits a bit, until you’re snoring, to quietly pull out of you. 

He bites his bottom lip to suppress his hisses as your warm cunt practically sucks him in but he refrains. He fixes his shorts and slides out of bed, grabbing a fresh wash cloth to wipe you down. He cleans you as best as he can and buttons your nightgown. 

He sits at the edge of the bed and stares down at your soft sleeping face. You look so content and freshly fucked, it’s one of his favourite looks on you. “Happy mother’s day, mamas.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and goes to the bathroom to clean himself. 

Then, once he’s clean, he walks out of the bedroom and into the family room. His eyes zone in on Daliah’s sleeping body and he coos, scooping her into his arms. He brings his baby girl into the master bedroom and decides that a nap in their bed wouldn’t hurt. 

He slides back into bed and lays Daliah on his chest. One of his arms wraps protectively around her sleeping body and she tucks her little face into his neck. Naturally, seeking his warmth, you turn in your sleep. 

With his wife on one side and his daughter on his chest, he lays a hand on her pregnant belly.

This is all he’s ever wanted. A little, loving family. 

[lillypad910]

Such a Good Girl

Dom! Eddie Munson x Sub! Girly! Reader

Warnings: (not pre-read well, apologize for some errors, I wrote his half awake) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, reader is an "innocent" slut (I'm not sorry about it), pet names (Bunny, Baby), Kinks (breeding, sub/dom relationship, reader has a pile of stuffed animal that he literally fucks her on, have fun lol)

Summary: Eddie sneaks into your window to find you getting ready for bed. But he was other plans for your evening.

A/n: I wrote this half asleep and it is pure filth. I haven't written smut in a HOT minute and this was me kind of getting a practice run to write the smut for a later fic with a certain character reader I fear people are BEGGING from this blog. Enjoy!

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All Pics from Pinterest!

Eddie parks his car down the road, not wanting to alarm your parents with his van sitting outside. He walks all the way up to your house, jumping your white picket fence and making his way towards the backyard. He knows which window is yours, having snuck in a few times before. He climbs up the lattice on the side of the brick wall of your house, making his way up to your window. He places his feet firmly on the roof that sticks out, looking into your window.

There you are, his beautiful sweet girl, brushing your hair at your vanity. Your cute flowy nightgown makes you look like you stepped right out of a 1960’s magazine. Your window is open a bit, letting in the cool air of the night.

He knocks on the glass, startling you a bit and almost making your drop your hair brush. You turn and immediately smile at him. You walk over and open the window more, letting the rocker inside. “Hi, Eddie.” You giggle as he stumbles in, nearly tripping over your lace curtains. “Hi, sweetheart.” He straightens himself out before closing the window, “you look cute.” Your cheeks flush a bit at the compliment. You aren’t used to compliments yet, but Eddie is determined to make sure you know your worth.

“I’m sorry for coming so late, were you about to go to bed?” He asks, glancing over at the pink comforter with multiple stuffed animals on it. You shake your head, climbing onto the bed and grabbing one of the plushies, holding them close to your heart. It was one he got you, a little bunny with big floppy ears, Mr Flospy is what you named him.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Princess, you need your beauty sleep.” You look up at him, your eyes glistening a bit in the light from your bedside lamp. “But you just got here…” Eddie smiles and holds out his arms, and you immediately tackle him in a hug, Mr Flopsy still in your arms. “I don’t want you to go, please stay.” You nuzzle your nose into his neck, and he hums, enjoying the feeling. “Bunny,” the nickname earns a whimper from you, it’s your favorite, “you said you want me to stay?” He clarifies, leaning you back into your stuffies. You nod, holding Mr Flopsy to your chest.

“Bunny,” Eddie leans over you and kisses your forehead, “have you been a good girl?” You nod again, your thighs pressing together. “Use your words, sweetheart.” “Y-Yes… I’ve been a good girl…!” Eddie loves these moments, your cheeks flushed and beautiful eyes blown. “Hmm,” he leans down and kisses your soft pink lips, he can tell you have on a cherry chapstick. He kisses you a few times, earning little whimpers from you, before moving down your jaw and neck.

“E-Eddie…” you grip at his vest, legs already getting shaky and he hasn’t even done anything other than kiss you. “Bunny, relax, you’re working yourself up.” He runs his palms over your thighs, securing his hips in between them. “Such a pretty girl,” he nibbles a bit at your collarbone, earning a gasp from you, “Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your parents hearing their little girl being a total slut, do you?” You glance away from him, the blush on your cheeks expanding out to your ears. He knows what you like, what you need.

He lifts your nightgown a little rubbing his ringed fingers over your panties. You grip his arm, not wanting him to pull away. His fingers dip under the fabric, beginning to rub circles over your clit. You swear he can do what ever he wants to you, you’d obey everything he told you to do gladly if this was the reward.

Eddie sighs into you ear, watching you twitch at the attention he’s giving your most sensitive place. His hot breath on your skin makes you shiver, along with the soft but firm circles his fingers dance over your clit. You feel your breath catch, a knot already forming in your stomach. “E-Eddie…”

“God, you’re so easy…” Eddie moves his hand a little lower into your underwear, slowly inserting two fingers in see to you. You grip his arm tighter, a soft gasp leaving your lips that makes him smirk. “What? What is it, Baby…? Fuck, are you drooling?” He places his free hand under your chin and whips away the bit of saliva that leaks from the corner of your mouth, watching you begin to pant a bit just from his fingers curling inside you.

You moan, your hand smacking against your mouth to muffle it. Eddie only smiles wider at this, removing his hand from your underwear, getting you to pout. He’s quick to remove the garment, sliding it down your legs then dropping it over the side of your bed. He places his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs so he can see all of you.

“Fuck, Bunny, you’re dripping.” He lowers himself down, leaving soft kisses down on your abdomen. “So needy,” he kisses lower and lower, before leaving one right on your clit, earning another moan from you.

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair as he finally places his mouth to your cunt. God the feeling…

“E-Eddie…!” One hand moves to shove two fingers back inside you as his tongue laps around. He’s learned your body, what you like, and how to work it.

He buries his head into your cunt, sucking on your clit as his fingers pump inside you. You wreath at the feeling, lifting your hips off your bed from the pleasure. He takes this as encouragement, wrapping his other arm under you and moving his fingers faster.

It doesn’t take long before you’re shaking, oozing all over his face. He pulls away and pushes your legs up as he gets closer once more, pressing his clothed crotch to your soaked cunt.

“Fuck, you feel that, Bunny?” Of course you do, his large, hard cock fighting to get out of his pants as he grinds against you. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His question is rhetorical but you still answer anyways. “Please… E-Eddie, please…”

He unbuttons his pants, yanking them down and tossing them away, then the same with his boxers. His cock springs free, earning a soft gasp from you.

God, it looks so good…

“You’re drooling again, Bunny.” But this time he doesn’t wipe away the spit, instead he pulls away from you all together. “Do you wanna suck it?”

You don’t even hesitate as you push yourself out of the pile of stuffed animals, crawling onto your stomach in front of him. You grab his cock, immediately shoving your face into his crotch. He groans as you lick up his shaft, your nose taking in the musky scent. “That’s it, Bunny.”

You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, not wanting to wait anymore. You have to open your mouth a bit wider to fit him, but you love to do so. Eddie combs his fingers into your hair before gripping a chunk, “come on, Bunny, you can do better than that.” He slowly pushes your head down, which you happily take.

Before long your nose is brushing into his hair, his cock deep in your throat as it twitches. You’re drooling so much. You moan, sucking his cock as you hollow your cheeks. You move your tongue skillfully, just like he trained you.

“You’re doing so good, Bunny. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He moved his hips back before thrusting forward, earning a throaty moan from you. You try not to gag, angling yourself just right to where he’s not agitating it.

He thrusts into your mouth again, making your thighs press together. You begin to bob your head with his thrusts, pairing it perfectly so that when he slams back in, you push your head against him too. He gets a bit rough, beginning to thrust faster and harder until you can control the angle anymore. You gag, but don’t pull away, honestly you can’t. His hand holds your head down as he uses your throat like a toy.

And then he yanks you off, your throat sore as you try to catch your breath. He shoves you back into your stuffed animals, before grabbing your legs and lifting them up to your head. You blush, embarrassed at this position. But you don’t have long to think about it before he’s climbing on top of you and rubbing his dick along you.

“Eds…” you moan out as you feel his tip press to your cunt. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in place, before thrusting his hips forward, his cock going deep inside you.

You gasp, your mind blanking as he begins to thrust hard and faster, using your cunt for his own pleasure. You moan, your bed squeaking as you take his cock. “Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He mumbles into your ear.

You pant as you feel him twitch inside you, your cunt already becoming sore from the abusive thrusts. But you don’t care, how could you? Your pussy is being used for what it was made for.

You cum hard on his cock, squeezing around him until you see stars but he doesn’t stop. If anything he’s thrusting harder, pounding you in as you become a panting, moaning mess.

He’s fucking you stupid.

“Such a good girl, taking my dick so deep.” His cock pistons in and out of you, your mind foggy as you just take it. You have to be good and just take it, or you won’t get your reward.

He groans as his thrusts get sloppy, hitting certain angles that’s has you wreathing. “Eddie!”

He’s quick to silence you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat and giving a good solid squeeze that has you coming undone on his cock again. “I’m gonna fucking breed you.” He groans into your ear. “Gonna fill you up just how you want, fuck you full.”

You’re gasping for air as you cum on his cock again, but this time, he thrusts a few more times before he finally thrusts deep inside you one last time. You feel the warmth of his cum gush inside you, moaning at the feeling. You need him, you need him to fucking ruin you. Imagine what people would say if he got you pregnant? Your family would be furious…

You hope he did.

You both sit there for a while, basking in the post sex glow. He’s collapsed on top of you, pinning you still to your bed. You don’t mind, your arms wrapped around him as his cock is still buried inside you.

He kisses you lovingly, smothering you in them as you giggle. “You’re so pretty,” his voice is horse, but you understand him well enough.

You snuggle into his neck, still a bit dazed. “I love you.” The words slip out so effortlessly, but of course they do. It’s Eddie.

“I love you,” he smiles into your hair, nuzzling into the strands.

Then you hear a door down the hall open. The hall light flicks on. Eddie scurries off you, grabbing his clothes off the floor and hiding behind the door. You wobbly get up from the bed, but you don’t have time to put on your underwear before a knock comes from your door.

“Sweetie? You alright?” Your dad calls from the other side. You take a deep breath, straightening your 60’s nightgown so it’s just covering you. You open the door just enough to pop your head out. “Yes, Dad?” You smile at the older man, trying to put on this innocent look.

“Are you alright?” He goes to lift his hand, placing it against your forehead, “You feel warm, are you catching a fever?” “Oh, no, I…” you try to think of something quick, “I just had a nightmare. Sorry if I woke you.”

You feel Eddie’s cum starting to drip out of your used cunt, and you try to press your legs together a bit to stop it.

“Are you sure? Do you need some water?” He looks over your face once more. “No, no, really, I’m good. Go back to bed, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You give him a smile and he nods before walking off again. You shut your door slowly, hearing it click into the hold.

“Well,” Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “You need to be more quiet next time.” You go to turn around but he stops you, holding you in place in front of him. “Oh, Bunny,” he trails his hand down your front, “you’re letting too much out, we can’t have that.”

Oh tonight’s on a be a long night.

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[wibben]

Pillow Talk

Choso discovers new sensations when thoughts of you turn innocent moments into something much more… hands-on.

↳ pairing: friend! choso kamo x afab! reader

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, virgin! choso, m masturbation, pillow fucking, overstimulation, fantasizing, pillow fucking, (not sure who the artist is, if you do please let me know so I can credit!)

↳ wc: 3,485

↳ notes: another cross-post from my ao3 while I try to make tumblr my main writing hub! I hope you enjoy! <3

“Goodnight.”

Choso’s voice is soft, barely louder than the creak of the bathroom door as he eases it shut behind him. Yuji is already asleep, he assumes—he doesn’t expect a response, but routine compels him to speak into that dark hallway void anyway. He waits, listening—a response does come in the form of a loud snore down the hall. 

Choso smiles fondly as he silently pads back to his own room, taking that as his queue that he is well and truly done with the day.

The cool, lingering dampness from washing his face clings to his skin, tiny droplets of water catching the faint flicker of silver from breeze-blown curtains as they trace thin rivers down his cheeks and neck. His hair, still slightly damp around his face, sticks to his forehead in dark, unruly strands. He doesn't care to tame it, nor does he bother to brush away the residual drips of water. They cool his skin wherever they touch, and he’s grateful for that because he feels oddly warm.

Warm enough that his t-shirt lies discarded on the bathroom floor, haphazardly kicked towards the laundry to be dealt with later.

He toes open the door of his room and nudges it shut behind him with his heel, listening for the soft cli-click of the knob. The room is dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window, flickering through sheer curtains that really serve no purpose other than to look cute. That’s what you said, at least. Home decor…he doesn’t get it, but you seemed pleased with the addition so he was too. 

Choso shuffles with mechanical routine as he approaches his bed, his body craving the comfort of his soft mattress, to nest into the carved divet in the foam created by and molded to his body.

With the unceremonious flop of a marionette with cut strings, Choso allows himself to fall onto the bed, the springs squeaking their protest and his sheets rustling under his weight. He lays there face down, eyes closed, and simply lets himself sink.

In the quiet dark of night and behind closed eyelids, he wonders if this is what boats feel like.

He’s never been on one, but he’s seen plenty—in movies mainly, like the one you watched together earlier that evening. With senses deprived, his body rocks with the gentlest sense of vertigo, up and down, forward and back, soothing. He feels heavy, liquid and relaxed, and yet… not quite right. There’s a restlessness beneath his skin, an undercurrent to his gentle tide he can’t quite shake. He keeps his face buried in his pillow, wrapping an arm around it and holding it tight, as if the soft fabric could anchor him.

…He doesn’t know how long he’s like this but fuck he can’t sleep.

He turns his head from his pillow, eyes cracked open in the dark, lower lip pouted and dragging against the fabric; he wears a petulant expression with nobody around to see it, nobody to explain away his uneasiness. He’s tired he knows he is, and yet he feels like a taut bowstring, ready to snap at a moment's notice.

Choso rolls onto his back instead, running a hand through his damp hair and pushing it back from his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling. The room is silent save for the occasional creak of the house settling, and the faint, distant sounds of the city outside. A dog, a car, the smash of a bottle on a curb, the flap of his curtain, the grinding of his teeth—he categorizes each sound methodically, filing them away neatly and willing the tedium to bore him to sleep like it always does. Always did. But not tonight.

He closes his eyes, trying to force tranquility and exhaustion upon himself, but his mind refuses to settle. He thinks of boats and the ocean, he thinks about when you came over and knocked on the door, he thinks of the movie he watched with you and Yuji on the couch, he thinks of cooking dinner with you in the kitchen—he thinks of you, you, and you again. The tension in his bones stirs more insistently with each and every thought, each train tracking straight back into your station.

But that’s okay. Choso likes you, likes thinking about you, and thoughts of you have lulled him to sleep before with a sort of embracing comfort he can’t even begin to name. He smiles to himself in the dark—the same brand of smile only you seem to inspire in him. He just needs to think of you more and then surely—

He remembers your smile when he opened the door, the way it lit up your entire face, the wrinkle in the bridge of your nose as it screwed up and made him smile in return. Your laughter, too, was infectious. It always is, and he caught that particular sickness with remarkable consistency every time you tittered or giggled—a laugh reciprocated in his own throat as quick as a lit match, earning more than a few wide-eyed, slack-jawed looks of disbelief from his brother.

And then there was the spaghetti. 

It’s a simple meal and he eats it far too often—but it’s good, and easy to make for three. And you, ever eager to help, had insisted on joining him in the kitchen while Yuji picked out a movie. He didn’t mind though; your presence was nice, even if it meant treacherously navigating around you as you both shuffled around the small space with enthusiastic clumsiness. You bopped cabinets and the fridge closed with your hip, which he too fell victim to more than once, finding himself nudged into the counter by a stray hip-check. Despite the occasional collision, your proximity was a comfort, a warm, lively presence in the otherwise mundane routine.

Choso couldn’t help but chuckle as you fumbled with pots and pans, finding your determination to be helpful endlessly endearing, even with something so simple as flitting about the kitchen. He directed you to the cabinet where a jar of tomato sauce was stored with a quiet look of anticipation—innocently underhanded is the request. You wouldn’t be able to reach, he was sure. You wouldn’t be able to reach, and you would ask him for help, and he would be able to help—

He remembers the way you stood on your tiptoes, reaching for the jar with your free hand splayed against the counter. As you stretched, he watched as if in slow motion, fabric unfolding like the draw of a curtain away from a theater stage. Your shirt rode up, exposing just an inch of the skin above your waistband.

The sight was brief, but it held a searing magnetism that held Choso hopelessly hostage. It sapped his mouth of moisture, glued his eyelids open, and his hand gave a peculiar twitch with the sudden urge to touch you. He watched your skin shift as you reached higher and higher, the gentle curve of your waist, the way your skin looked so soft and inviting and smooth as satin and he so badly wanted to see if this usually hidden expanse was as soft as it looked, and Choso doesn’t want for much but god did he want—

And he completely forgot to offer you a hand, his mind swept blank with ringing tinnitus in his ears when you laughed and settled back onto the balls of your feet, whirling around and flourishing the jar with a triumphant smile. Your eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and there was a slight flush on your cheeks from the effort. Choso had smiled back then, feeling a warmth in his chest that surely had everything to do with the heat of the kitchen.

Choso suddenly flinches in surprise, abruptly torn from the pleasant memory as he absentmindedly rolls his wrist over his erection. He must have been doing this for some time now, judging by how the waist of his sweatpants has already rolled down his hip bones, freeing the red and needy head of his cock to the cool air and smearing a shiny trail over his arm. He stares down at the unmistakable bulge snaking up towards his navel silently perplexed, his shaft straining against the loose fabric where it’s still confined.

He’s fully hard. He hadn’t even realized it happened, hadn’t recognized the feeling building inside him until it manifested so obviously. Arousal snuck up on him, licking up his spine with hungry fangs while he was lost in the memory of you.

Familiar heat pools low in his abdomen, a dull hook that drags beneath his skin. His cock twitches with every beat of his heart, a heavy, insistent pulse that’s impossible to ignore. And he has tried to ignore it before. It keeps him from peace, from sleep— god he just wants to sleep.

It’s a mix of aching need and slick, simmering napalm that spreads through his veins and ignites kindling he hadn’t even known was there. He knows this feeling well, even if it has no name; the way his cock grows heavier and jumps against his stomach, the way his breathing grows rough and deep—all sensations he’s experienced before, though they never fail to leave him flustered and bewildered…and annoyed, above all else.

The intensity of the need always catches Choso off guard, consuming his thoughts and clouding his mind until he could find some way to deal with it. It frustrates him how this desire would strike at the most inconvenient times—when he’s trying to sleep, or worse, the times when he’s with you —an all too frequent occurrence, he thinks, and he wonders if you’ve done something to him. He’s been a decent friend to you, so it’s with a feeling of tormented betrayal that he simply cannot understand why you would afflict him with this so cruelly and so often.

Choso lets out a shaky breath, his hips shifting restlessly against his sheets. He hesitates, a moment of self-consciousness flickering through him and burning his face with a secret blush that blooms on his face first then leaks to his throat. He shifts upright, yanking his pillow from beneath his head, the familiar texture of the fabric cool against his skin, and positions it between his legs. He shoves his pants down, bunching them around his knees—good enough.

He tilts his thigh outward and lifts his hips up, giving an almost tentative grind into the pillow, as if unsure he’s doing it right. The friction is familiar, almost comforting in its predictability. Choso’s nostrils flare with a heavy sigh, his head falling back to the mattress as he stares heatedly at the ceiling, his eyes narrowed to slits. Slowly, he starts to fuck his pillow, the movements deliberate and mechanical, driven by the single-minded need to rid himself of the troublesome arousal gnawing at him.

His cock throbs with each slow thrust, the pressure of the pillow against him both soothing and maddening. The heat in his abdomen builds, coiling tighter with every grind. Pre-cum slicks the fabric, smearing in thin, dark stripes with each drag of his length against it. The pleasure is there, tingling all the way down to his toes, but it doesn’t crest, doesn’t even come close, leaving him teetering on the most frustrating of knife edges.

He grinds harder, hips moving more forcefully now, desperation seeping into every motion. The familiar rhythm that usually brings him relief is failing him, the need growing more intense with each passing second. His mind is a haze of lust and longing, the image of you blending with the sensation of his cock twitching against the pillow, creating a heady tonic that seeps deeply into his brain, sinking hooks that he doesn’t know yet he will never be able to remove. He bites down on his lip, a low, frustrated groan escaping his throat as he thrusts harder, faster, violently clawing for the release he so desperately and suddenly needs.

But it's not enough. His body is slick with sweat, muscles tensing and trembling with the effort. The pillow, once a source of solace, now feels infuriatingly inadequate. It only works him up higher, hotter, veins in his forearms standing out as he whines in frustration.

The pillow crumbles beneath Choso’s hands, the downy feathers within compressing and shifting into a useless lump under the abuse of his pelvis. Each pounding drag against the pillow drives him further from his peak, his own aggressive hopelessness raking him over hot coals as the very thing he uses to relieve himself falls apart in his hands.

His breaths are harsh, ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he fights against the insistent ache that won’t go away. His goal remains just out of reach, a teasing promise that leaves him gasping and grinding against the pillow with mounting desperation. He wants to scream—it isn’t working, it isn’t working, why isn’t it working?

With a final, helpless thrust and bitter groan, he collapses onto the bed, panting and trembling with unspent desire. The need is still there, throbbing and insistent, leaving him feeling more restless than before. He whips the pillow aside to thump somewhere on the floor, damp and crumpled.

Choso lies there, staring up at the ceiling, his body aching with unresolved tension. The memory of you lingers in his mind, water and oil with the frustration of his failed attempt at relief. He feels helpless, yearning in the dark for something. Sleep, peace, release from his torment, you.

You.

It’s a new thought, one he’s never entertained before, but now it feels so undeniably right. He doesn’t question where the idea comes from; it’s an instinct, an impulse he can’t quite name but can’t ignore. Driven by this sudden urge, he trails his hand down the firm ridges of his abdomen, wrapping his fingers around his throbbing cock. The sensation is electric, sending a shiver up his spine as he tentatively strokes himself.

The sensation is immediate and overwhelming. It's like a jolt of lightning, a direct line of pleasure from his cock to his brain. His eyes flutter shut, a soft gasp escaping his lips as his fingers slide along his length, the friction so much more intense than the pillow. It's hotter, slicker, and he can feel every ridge and vein beneath his touch. His hips lift off the bed, rutting roughly into his palm with a choked whimper.

He strokes himself again, more confidently this time and slowly at first, exploring the unfamiliar territory with hesitant drags of his hand. He grips himself tighter, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head, and a strangled moan breaks free of his flushed and sweaty throat. It’s sharper, more focused, and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before.

Thoughts of you flood his mind, but they're different now, colored with a perverse longing that makes his heart race and his cock throb in his hand. He remembers your kind smile, but now it feels like an invitation, a secret shared just between the two of you. Your laughter echoes in his ears, sweet and melodic, but it twists into something more intimate and utterly salacious.

His strokes quicken, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He thinks of you reaching for the jar of tomato sauce, the way your shirt had ridden up, exposing a strip of skin that glowed in the kitchen light. That innocent moment which only planted seeds of interest is now blooming with raw, aching desire. He imagines touching you—it would’ve been so easy to reach out and skim your flesh with his fingertips, to wrap his hand around the soft curve of your waist as he stood behind you, pin his hand over yours on the counter—

His fingers move faster, slick with pre-cum, each stroke sending pops of color to the edges of his vision. He thinks of the way you held the popcorn bowl between your thighs, the meat of your legs squishing around the ceramic and the genuine affection in your eyes when you offered it to him. But now, he imagines those eyes darkened with lust, looking at him with the same desire that grips him now. He pictures you close, your body pressed against his, your breath hot against his neck as you whisper his name.

Your voice would never sound as saccharine as it would as his name forms on your lips, your voice sweet as spun sugar as you coax him toward oblivion with a hand much gentler than his own.

The friction is maddening, his grip tight and unrelenting. Each pump of his hand draws him closer to the edge, his pleasure building in a way that’s almost unbearable. He imagines your fingers tangling in his hair, your lips ghosting over his skin, sending shivers down his spine. His hips thrust into his harried palm, chasing a climax that’s so deliriously close as his room is filled with the wet little sucks of pre-cum leaking between the creases of his fingers.

He imagines those same fingers in his hair drifting down his body, splayed over his abs, leaving red lines in their wake. The thought of your touch surprises him, but it feels so vivid, so intoxicating. He pictures your hands moving lower, tracing the dark hair that trails down his abdomen, teasing and scratching lightly. He imagines your hand… fuck, he imagines your hand.

Choso’s body tenses, his breath hitching as the pleasure peaks. His mind is filled with you—your smile, your laughter, your touch—how can he so vividly feel a touch he’s never known? How can he crave it so feverishly? By god does he crave it. 

With a gasp he suddenly turns his face into the crook of his arm, teeth pressing forcefully into the cords of muscle as he cums, muffling the guttural moan and reducing it to desperate whimpers instead. 

Cum spills over his fingers, hot and sticky ropes spurting onto his chest, his stomach, his spine arching under the almost blinding force of it and he only remembers to breathe when the lack of oxygen makes him dizzy.

His breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps as he lies there, stunned as certainly as if he’d taken a blow to the temple. Using his hand made all the difference, and picturing you rather than the detached clinicality he always approached this with changed everything. For the first time ever, the act of masturbation didn't feel like a necessary chore, it was a joy. His cum glistens on his skin, thick and milky, smeared across his abs and chest and sheets, a living, dripping, testament to that change of heart.

Choso’s hand remains wrapped around his cock, now softening in his grip, but he can’t bring himself to let go—an irrational concern that he might never feel something so exquisite again if he were to release himself. His cum dribbles over his fingers, pooling in the creases of his palm, and still he cannot let go.

He milks his cock slowly, drawing out every last drop with each firm squeeze around the head. The sensation is almost painful, the overstimulation sending sharp sparks of pleasure and discomfort through him, but he can’t stop. Each squeeze brings another bead of cum to the surface, dribbling down over his knuckles, mixing with the sweat and ejaculate that already slicks his skin and connects his hand to his belly with pale ropes.

His mind is a whirl of conflicting emotions. Embarrassment floods his thoughts, a blush creeping up his neck and settling in his cheeks with that awful clarity that always crashes his consciousness after. 

He wonders if he shouldn’t be thinking of you this way. He’s never thought of anyone else like this before, and the intensity of it all leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable. But then, a small voice in the back of his mind reassures him. You’re friends, after all. This helped him, and you always love to help.

He’s struck with an odd desire—not the desire that landed him here, spent and weak and flushed in his bed with his palm wrapped around his soft and gooey cock, but a different kind. Gratitude. He’s grateful to you for afflicting him with this and unknowingly aiding him through it. Should he thank you? Choso thinks he should thank you. 

But for now, he lets himself drift in the hazy aftermath, your image the last thing on his mind as he begins to succumb to sleep, the feeling of your imagined touch still warm against his skin. Yes, he thinks as his brain all but weeps in joy as the curtain closes on wakefulness, he would have to thank you.

[bawnjourno]

ha ha what the fuck

i’m gonna eat and walk on the track and then i’m watching the dan’s operation ep for the first time how tf we feeling night court nation

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In Which Gojo Satoru Commits Regicide.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 0.7k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Off-Screen Violence. I Am Coping, But I Am Also Pissed. Be Patient, I Beg of You.

Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

You’d been a little confused when Satoru came home uncharacteristically giddy in spite of the bitingly cold February weather, and a little more than confused when he said he had something to show you, took you by the arm, and teleported you out of your apartment entirely (after waiting for you to give your clear and enthusiastic consent, of course). You had no idea where he was taking you, but it only took a single second of whipping your head in either direction, a single glimpse of those awful bright yellow curtains and tacky eagle rug, to know where you were.

“Satoru,” you gasped, and his grin widened. “Is this the oval office?”

“The one and only.” His voice was low and smug, his tone more than enough to prove that he already knew you like your surprise. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he swept the content the presidential desk in the floor with his free hand and lifted you onto its outer edge, placing himself in the space between your open legs as if brought there by a gravitational pull. You draped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss as sweet as apple pie, or funnel cake, or other true symbols of American culture that were formed through a broad, grassroot endearment rather than a bunch of gross old men deciding they’d look cool on a flag three-hundred years ago.

Reminded of gross old men, you pulled away with another sharp gasp. “But, ‘toru, what if he catches us?”

You had no problem with getting your back blown out by your loving boyfriend in one of the most sacred rooms in the United States, but if that lead-paint poisoned geezer happened to walk in (if he even could walk on his own, anymore), it’d totally ruin the mood. Satoru only laughed. “Don’t worry, baby,” And then, flashing you a quick wink, “I made sure to clear the place out for us.”

“Satoru, you didn’t!”

“Guess some fascists just can’t handle their blunt force damage,” he said, shrugging. Suddenly, your expression dropped, and Satoru noticed right away. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Well, it’s not that the racist, senile felon didn’t deserve to have his skull caved in by a bisexual transgender man – since, y’know, we’re both bisexual and transgender.” Satoru nodded, affirming the fact that you two were similarly transgender and also bisexual, which you were. “It’s just – now that misogynistic white supremacist who jerks off to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale every night before fucking his couch is going to be president, and that that kind of sucks too.”

“James David Vance?”  Satoru asked, refusing to use his initially and therefore highlighting how stupidly pretentious his name was. “You think too little of me, sweetheart.”

Possibly for the third time, you gasped. “Is he…?”

“Mhm. Took care of him right before I came home, got him right as he was coming out of his filler appointment. Beat him to death with a copy of his own book and everything, after leaving it a one-star review on Goodreads, of course.” Again, he shrugged, but smile gave away his self-satisfaction. “It’s all in a day’s work for the world’s strongest and most politically active sorcerer, I guess.”

“But, if that pathetic old man and his castrated lapdog are both dead, then who’s the president?”

“Check the news, baby.”

You fished your phone out of your pocket as Satoru sucked hickeys into your neck, obviously waiting until he had your full attention to go further. Again, you gasped. You were starting to lose count of how many times that’d happened, so far. “Abortions and insulin are provided upon request and also free now?!”

“Oh, wait, are they?” You turned your screen in his direction, and Satoru hummed in approval. Everyone’s quality of life had gotten a lot better since your good friend, Nanami Kento, was placed onto the Supreme Court in the final days of Biden’s term. “Sick. Not what I was talking about, though – scroll down.”

You scrolled down, and gasped once more. Your throat was starting to hurt. “Everyone in the country’s unanimously ellected the first female president?”

“Not just any female president,” he said, smirking and tapping on a trust-worthy article from a reliable and non-partisan source. “Say her name for me, baby.”

The final gasp you gaspt was the loudest and most gasp-like of all.

“Hatsune Miku?!”

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 3 - Bolt

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Back again! I have split the final chapter into two parts as it makes more sense that way, you’ll see why when you read the last one – which hopefully I should be able to post later this week, or early next – I’m just working on getting it right. Warnings for angst, angst and angst in this part – sorry in advance. I felt a bit weepy writing this. I’ve been blown away by the support this story has received, especially as it was written on a bit of a whim, so thank-you for all your reblogs and comments – it means a lot!! Also shout-out to the recent Variety SebStan photoshoot - very inspirational...

💔

You were sleeping like the dead, it was a miracle that anything could’ve woken you – but the soft click of the hotel door opening must’ve cut through the void somehow, because you shot up in bed awake, disorientated and suddenly on alert. Your breathing was heavy as you adjusted to your surroundings. What…where were…?

Bucky gently closed the door behind him and rushed over to your bedside.

“Hey, hey…it’s just me, you’re okay doll. I’m sorry I startled you. I was trying to slip in quietly…” he cooed, “I thought knocking might be too jarring…stupidly…”

You blinked at him, you were just able to make out his face in the dark as recognition sunk in. His features were subtly illuminated by the parking lot lights, the room’s curtains doing little to keep that glare out. He looked tired and drained; his hair unkempt. There was a weariness in his face that you hadn’t seen before. You groggily flicked on the bedside lamp as your brain caught up with the rest of you.

For a blissful moment you’d forgotten it all, from the haze of sleep, you’d forgotten why you were here. Bucky! Bucky is here! Your safe place. You began to smile and instinctively moved towards him. He smiled too, a relieved smile, holding out a hand to you so you reached for it with your own –

Wait.

Oh.

You saw the hope in his eyes dwindle when you jerked away from him, a scowl hardening your expression as you whipped your hand back as quickly as if it had been burnt. You pulled the sheets high and tight, covering your body as if you didn’t like that any of you was visible to him.

As he tried to lean over to get closer to you, you greeted him with a blunt, hard slap across the face.

He recoiled, his hand moving to his stinging cheek as he stood up to his full height and stepped back, “fine. I deserved that…”

“What are you doing here?” you sneered, “How did you even get in?”

He tilted his head towards the door and held up a key card, “They let me in. They gave me a key”.

“Well, they shouldn’t have! They shouldn’t just give away door keys to random people…”

“They don’t, just me,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, “You think this is funny?”

“Doll…” he reached out to you again, but you smacked his hand away.

“No,” you growled.

“I found out the truth…I know it wasn’t you. I’m so sor-” he sounded frantic, stuttering and jumbled, worlds away from the cool and collected man you knew so well. But you were unmoved, his betrayal still stinging and raw.

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your tone flat and cold, “it’s too late”.

“I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry, baby. I flew off the handle without talking to you. I should’ve trusted you…” he pleaded.

“Yes, you should’ve,” you snapped bitterly, “but you didn’t. You wouldn’t let me talk, you just shouted…then you threw me out with nothing! Like I was trash! I walked for nearly two miles alone in the dark, in the middle of the night, Bucky. Anything could’ve happened to me…” your voice wobbled slightly at the end of your sentence; you took a deep breath – refusing to let anymore tears fall for him.

He dipped his head, his gaze dropping, unable to look at you. “I know, you’re right…I keep thinking about it…I keep…”

“Save it!” you shouted, a little more emotional than you intended. “All I wanted was for you to listen to me. I don’t know anything about a recording, or my phone pinging, or whatever you were ranting about. I just can’t believe you wouldn’t believe me, after everything we’ve been through…”

He sighed heavily, then withdrew his phone from his pocket. He began to scroll through.

You scoffed, “what are you-”

And then your voice, clear as day, rang out from his phone. Bucky held it up towards you, his face pained. You listened, stunned, as you heard yourself on the recording. It was so real you almost considered that it was you, and you’d somehow forgotten that you’d actually said it.

“Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything…”

After it had finished, you furrowed your brows in confusion, your mouth hanging open.

“But that wasn’t…” you whispered.

“I know. I know that now,” he sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Rumlow set it up. He put it together with cutting edge AI, some advanced tech Stark helped develop. He also planted fake footage of you on the CCTV. Took your phone to an incriminating location. But Sam caught him tonight. He’s been working with the feds to bring me down, to make room for a HYDRA revival. He knew I’d be weaker and easier to takedown if you and I fell apart, so breaking us up was a two-birds-one-stone deal”.

You blinked, bewildered, a chill running through you as you thought about the lengths someone would go to in order to break you and Bucky up. You knew a little about HYDRA, the rival syndicate that Bucky used to work for before he struck out on his own. They’d been defunct for years, or so Bucky had told you. The implication of someone being able to make your voice say anything they wanted also haunted you. Rumlow could’ve even framed you for a crime with such technology. It was…scary.

You could see why Bucky freaked out, presented with all of this incriminating evidence, but…

“Rumlow didn’t break us up, Bucky”, you said quietly as your words sharpened. “You did. You could’ve come to me first. You could’ve showed me this and we could’ve set everything straight. Instead…you went nuclear…”

He dropped his gaze again to the threadbare hotel carpet, unable to meet your eye. It was almost funny, he looked small for the first time since you’d met him. Despite his towering height and hulking frame, he almost seemed like a little boy in that moment.

“…I just can’t believe you thought I’d do something like that to you. That I’d betray you like that. That I could look you in the eye every day and lie to you and…”

He suddenly looked up, quickly snatching your hand, “I’m so sorry, doll, this is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made…I’d do anything to take it back…”

“Well you can’t!” you sniped back at him as you tore your hand away from his, tears in your eyes. “You must think so low of me that you think I’d be capable of this. And all the stuff you said about me leeching off you for your money! I’ve never been comfortable spending your cash and you know that! I can’t believe you’d throw it all back in my face…”

“Baby, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean of it. I was hurt…” he said, the desperation building in his voice as his eyes widened, “I was just trying to hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. I didn’t really think it. I never have”.

“It must’ve come from somewhere!” you spat venomously, “you didn’t pull it out of thin air…”

“I promise. I was just throwing words out and didn’t care what they were as long as they hit. I just was so mad,” he sat down on the bed and began running his hands through his hair as he closed his eyes, he always did that when he was stressed.

He sighed heavily, then turned to you, “Look”, he began – his voice soft now. “I guess part of me always thought this was too good to be true…everything happened so quickly when we met. I’d always been content with one-night stands and casual hook-ups. Then I met you, and…” he trailed off as he chewed his lip, carefully choosing what to say.

You watched him, your earlier anguish now hardened into pure rage, you wanted to kick him out – send him out into the street the way he had with you. But you also wanted to hear this. You wanted to understand what possible reasoning there could be for causing of this pain. What weak excuse he could use to try and justify his cruelty. He looked at you again. His eyes were kind, warm. But you couldn’t help but remember the coldness in them from earlier. You didn’t think you’d ever forget it.

“I guess…everything changed. I fell for you so hard. You took over my life. Invaded my thoughts, my senses. I just wanted to be with you all the time. And to my surprise…you felt the same. This sweet, wonderful woman wanted to be with me, too. I was sure you’d turn away when you found about my job…my past…my scars, my arm... Because why wouldn’t you? You were kind and decent. You saw the best in people. How the hell could you love someone like me? A killer. A monster…”

“Bucky, I…” you croaked.

“Please, just let me finish…” he pleaded, “but somehow, you did love me. And I know you moved in with me quickly, but it felt right. You had a rough start in life, and all I ever wanted to do was take care of you and fix it so you didn’t have to worry about money or paying bills or any of that ever again. I wanted you to sleep soundly, knowing I would protect you and do right by you and you wouldn’t have to sling burgers and fries to get by anymore. And part of me knew it was selfish…because you deserved better than me. You deserved the white picket fence, a dull but decent man with a boring job who comes home and tells you about whatever shit Janet in Accounting got up to that day. But no, you had me – who stole you from that peaceful future to make myself happy. I worked late and committed violent acts. I had to give you bodyguards just in case. I uprooted your entire life. I did my best to give you the love you deserve, but I couldn’t even get that right. When I heard that tape…it was like the universe telling me what I already knew - I wasn’t worthy, and the debt I owed was getting collected. I guess part of me always expected I’d inevitably screw it up, because I never deserved you in the first place. And I’m just sorry that I proved myself right”.

You sniffed back your tears, bowled over by his words. He’d never said anything like this to you before, you had no idea he held those insecurities. The silence hung heavily between you, until you finally spoke, your voice shaky.

“But I was happy slinging burgers. And I never wanted the boring guy. I never wanted the white picket fence. I wanted you, Buck. Only you. I knew who you truly were, and it didn’t matter. It never mattered. You did deserve me. You did deserve love and everything we had…until…well…this”.

He nodded sadly, taking your hand in his.

“I know that now, doll, I do. I ended up sabotaging the best thing that ever happened to me because of my own fears. And that’s on me. But look…I need to ask, do you think you could ever forgive me? I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll go at whatever pace you want…We can just be friends and see how it goes. I’ll go to therapy to sort out my shit. Anything. I’ll never doubt you again. All I ask is that you give me one final chance to fix this. Please, doll…I’m begging you…”

You looked into his big blue eyes, glossy with his unshed tears. Your heart ached and twisted at the sight. You’d never seen him looking so vulnerable before, so lost. You loved him so very much. You would’ve taken a bullet for him if he’d asked. He was correct that the two of you had moved fast in your whirlwind romance, but it always felt like a natural progression. It had always felt right.

But something had shifted. Something monumental. And you didn’t know if it could ever be like it was. It was wrong now.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I can’t….I…” you whispered, squeezing his hand as your tears began to fall. “I want to…I just…I don’t know if I can…”

He inhaled deeply and your heart shattered as you saw the flash of anguish in his eyes. But then he took a moment, a sad but accepting smile creeping over his face. He leaned over and wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“It’s alright, doll” he told you softly. “This was my fault. I’m not gonna force it or push you to forgive if you’re not comfortable doing so, okay? Not because I don’t care or don’t want to fight for you. But because I love you, and loving someone means sometimes you have to let them go”.

You nodded as you looked up into his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Hey, c’mon…” he soothed.

He quickly vanished into the en-suite bathroom, returning with a small wad of toilet paper to dab at your tear-soaked cheeks. He extended a finger and gently moved it under your chin, propping your face up to look at his. The tenderness and care he showed you was what you were used to with Bucky. This was the version of him you’d always known. It almost made you forget about everything. Almost.

You both shared a small smile. A melancholic smile, a smile that you both understood meant too much had happened here tonight. Too much had changed. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Nothing was spoken, but everything was said.

It was hard to know how much time had passed, but eventually he got up and moved to the door. You didn’t stop him, and he didn’t ask you to. He ran a finger over your trusty red backpack as he passed the desk. He chuckled and picked it up, “I should’ve known this old thing was involved. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you left with no clothes or money…but you’ve always been the most resourceful person I know.”

You smiled back at him weakly.

“It’s funny…” he mused as he caressed the straps, “you had this emergency kit already to go. Just in case…”

You shook your head, “no…it wasn’t meant to be a kit, it was just left from where I moved in with you. I didn’t-I just dumped it when I…”

“Yes…left fully packed and untouched. With clothes and cash. And debit cards, presumably. Stashed in a closet by the front door. That doesn’t strike you as a choice? A plan? Even if you weren’t fully aware of it?” he asked.

You didn’t respond as the silence laid thick between you. Incisive Bucky, as always. He could read you better than anyone on the planet. You knew he was right, he knew it too. You swallowed, looking down at the frayed thread on the bedsheet.

“You are always planning, doll. Because you always had to, with the life you’ve had. You always had to keep moving and stay one step ahead. We both know that”.

Again, he was met with your silence as you pulled at the thread. But there was no denial. You couldn’t deny the truth.

“Guess we both had our own ejector seats for this plane,” he mused as he moved the bag back to how he found it. “Looks like we had even more in common than we knew”.

He was right, again. It seemed that both of you had your anxieties and insecurities about this relationship. Both of you were maybe a little too cynical and world weary to believe in happy ever afters. His had manifested in anger, in rage…yours in being ready to flee at any time. Both of you had been on the starting line waiting for that pistol to fire.

But it had only finally imploded because of him.

He continued his slow march to the door, clearing his throat as he looked back at you.

“I meant what I said, every word. I’d do anything to get you back. I’d go at any pace, I’d take whatever you offered – in any form, as long as I’m still in your life in some way. I’d spend the rest of my days apologising if I had to. But honestly, I’d also be happy just to be your friend. Okay? So, you can call me, text me, anytime. Hell, just send me an emoji. Even if you just to talk. Even just to yell at me. I’ll always pick up, I promise”.

He pulled a business card from his wallet and placed it on the desk, “here. Put my number in your new phone when you get one”.

You stayed mute, but your eyes followed his hand as he gently put the card down.

“Will you be okay? For money, I mean?” he asked as his hand rested on the doorhandle, “because I can…”

“I’ll be fine Buck, I always am”.

“Yeah doll, I know”, he said softly.

Neither of you said goodbye. Maybe it was too hard to actually say the word out loud. Speak it into existence and accept its reality. So, he just nodded at you, and you smiled back, and you tried not to think about the tears glistening in his eyes or that painful tugging in your chest.

A few seconds later he was gone, and then it was as if he’d never been there at all.

[keferon]

Hmmmm. New infection: Blurr/Swerve

Your writing has radioactive qualities but in a comic book super powers granting kind of way.

Merry Christmas from me to you.

———————————————————————

There was single spark of Christmas in the deepest dark of space. Far, far from the warm fire of Earth.

With the sort of warmth reserved for children’s holiday specials, Swerve and Jazz exchanged small improvised gifts.

Prowl also participated, with all the stone cold concentration of a bomb defusal.

Turns out, there was a decent amount of dropped shanix down various vents that Jazz had gotten a hold of. Swerve helped him pick up a gift for Prowl the next time they stopped at a trade depot. It was some of the most fun he’d had since waking up.

Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again.

Later, Swerve would watch as Jazz helped Prowl loop a striped scarf over his shoulders and across one half of a chevron, laughing and smiling all the while.

Swerve wasn’t jealous. No no no. He really was happy for them! He was! And maybe a little sad.

Prowl nodded at something Jazz said and took his leave to head back to his, their hab suite. Jazz jogged over to where Swerve had been slowly been drilling a pen into the drawing pad Jazz gotten for him.

“So you going to go see them?”

Swerve abruptly dropped the pen and flattened a hand over the sketch he’d definitely not made of the person he totally wasn’t thinking about.

“Whaaaat? No, no I’m sure they’re fine. Not! That I was still thinking about him! THEM.”Swerves optics darted rapidly from Jazz to the drawing, making sure any evidence was fully concealed.

“Besides, I’m not gonna leave you alone on Christmas Eve.” He said a bit more seriously, remembering Jazz’s current isolation. Unlike him, Swerve could visit Earth whenever wanted.

“Actually, Prowl was talking about some silent holovid earlier, so we were going to watch it tonight. It’s cool man, go check on your boo.”

Jazz looked, well, happy. And his field (wow, Swerve was still mind blown that humans had those the entire time) reflected that.

Swerve did a poor imitation of nonchalance. “I mean, only if you’re totally sure.”

Jazz put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet a little, “Hmmm, you could always join Prowl and I for the holovid. You know, the one we’re gonna watch together? Inside his room?”

HA!

Hahahahhaha!

Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl.

The Christmas Shopping was enough.

With Jazz’s blessing, and Prowl’s glaring, seriously he could feel it through the wall, Swerve wished them a Merry Christmas and went to his room. Just a little bit quicker than necessary.

———————————————

Blurr’s hospital was one of those really fancy ones that looked more like a hotel room from the right angles.

There were simple decorations, extra furniture like a nightstand and a small couch, as well as fairly thick curtains framing a large clear window.

Christmas lights were strung up outside, adding to the ambient glow of the city lit up below. Snowflakes drifting through the air fuzzed the details. Made everything a little soft.

Swerve zeroed in on closing the curtains out of habit.

“Leave th-“

Swerve shrieked, nearly clipping through a wall with how hard he jumped.

Lying on his good side on the couch, Blurr merely blinked at him slowly before finishing his sentence.

“Leave the curtains open, please.” He pulled a blanket that didn’t look thick enough a little more securely over his shoulder.

Blurr didn’t resume looking at the falling snow, instead he took Swerve in with a half lidded eye.

“So are you my ghost of Christmas past, present or future?”

Swerve was uncomfortably reminded of how he looked at the moment. Colorless, grainy and mostly transparent. Slowly, he turned up the sliders on his holoform. “Heh, uh, option D? None of the above?”

Blurr didn’t have an IV in, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still on some other form of painkillers. Either way, he seemed a little more aware than what Swerve was prepared to deal with.

So why was he moving to get Blurr a better blanket?

Eh, he probably won’t remember this, but his recovery will. Swerve rationalized. He thinks I’m a Christmas ghost anyways, it’s just a dream to him.

When Swerve was almost out of sight, he was stopped by a small, “Stay?”

Swerve stayed.

He shuffled where he stood, Blurr continued to look at him. Slowly, the former racer tried to sit up.

Swerve was there right away, moving softly as he helped him up. In order to support Blurrs weight as best as possible, Swerve ended up sitting halfway onto the couch where Blurr had been laying.

Blurr placed a hand on his arm for support, and when he was most of the way upright, Swerve felt him sigh and rest all of his weight onto his holoform.

Comfortable.

Trapping him.

Holoforms can’t explode right?

Swerve was living both his greatest fanfic dream as well as his second greatest real life nightmare. He really, really hoped holoforms couldn’t explode. Fuck knows he’d put this poor man through enough.

How many layers of guilt were there again? There’s the initial parasocial idolization thing. There was the time Blurr saw all of his destroyed merchandise. So he thinks Swerve hates him. Did. He did actually hate him. Not really, but he wanted to. Oh and then Swerve left him for dead! Because he treated him like he wasn’t an actual living person who could feel fear! Or pain! Or. . . Alone.

On Christmas.

Swerve got a little more settled onto the couch, letting Blurr use him as his personal cushion a bit more comfortably. Leaning his head on his shoulder, Blurr was watching the snow again.

“When I was a child, I spent every Christmas at a ski lodge to the north” Blurr spoke quietly enough that the silence stayed resilient.

“I’d stay up late, watching the snow drift down through the mountain lights for hours. It felt a lot like this.” Blurr’s eye was fluttering more and more the longer he spoke. Each time it closed, Swerve could see the effort it took to open again.

Blurr, readjusted his body one last time me. Then mumbled. “You’re very warm for a ghost.”

Swerve, desperately, wished he could remember a single smart thing he’d ever written. “I got a slider for that.”

Swerve was going to find the self destruct button.

Blurr snorted a genuine single laugh. His eye had closed and he’d stopped fighting. Gradually, Swerve felt him breath a little slower, sinking into him and the couch. Swerve held still, until all the screaming, embarrassing panic in his mind resolved into white noise.

Swerve stayed for as long as he could. And when his time was almost up, he carefully lowered Blurr back onto the couch. Getting him a thicker blanket, and a non-Swerve pillow, for Christmas.

———————————————————————

- SSTP

"Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again."

LMAO

"Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl."

AHAHAHAJFJGMGJGKRJ WHEEEEEEZE HELP

ANON. SSTP. DEAR. MY TREASURE. MY SWEET NUCLEAR POWER PLANT OF A WRITER. I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE THEM. BOTH JP AND BLURWERS. YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS TO BE THIS FUNNY AND CUTE /J

Also The scene with Blurr is just SO cozy auughhggj I wanna wrap them both in a blanket and send to the magic ski resort where nothing bad ever happens*

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: lots of cute first date jitters, reader is clumsy, also a lot more cheese 🧀 — take your lactaid besties.

part one | part three

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

a/n: i’m honestly blown away by all the sweet comments on that first little blurb. shy reader is 1000% me, so this is very near and dear to my heart. i hope y’all like this one just as much! also big kisses to my lovely angel @undead-supernova for looking this over for me <3

“This looks stupid.”

You huff, glancing at your reflection before rushing back over to your closet for the 3rd time in a span of twenty minutes.

But Nancy grabs your wrist from before you can make it there, pulling you down onto the bed beside her.

“Everything you’ve tried on has been cute… I don’t see the problem here.”

You groan and flop back onto the mattress, covering your face with your hands.

“I wasn’t exactly trying to go for cute, Nance.”

Your words are muffled behind your palms, but she gets your message loud and clear.

“I know you want to impress him, but my best advice is to just be yourself… that’s why he asked you out in the first place, right?”

You sigh, uncovering your face to look up at her. She has a brow raised, and as much as you’d hate to admit it— you know she’s right.

“Do you always have to be right about everything?” you puff out a small laugh and she beams, nudging your knee with hers.

“Of course, I am the brains of this operation, remember?”

You roll your eyes fondly before returning to your feet, smoothing over the denim of your skirt when you meet your reflection once more.

“Oh god, what about make up?!”

You only managed to change your shirt one last time before Nancy had to practically barricade your closet door shut with her body. Reminding you that, once again, you looked great.

It doesn’t help much to soothe that little voice in the back of your head that disagrees— but the rumble of an engine and a blaring guitar riff distracts from those thoughts momentarily as the panic finally starts to set in.

“Shit, shit, shit! He’s here already?” you squeak, glancing over at your beside clock.

6:45 pm.

He was 15 minutes early.

“He’s early… color me impressed.” She grins before peeking out your curtains.

“I’m… I’m not ready, Nance.”

Your heart is about to pound out of your chest and your palms are beginning to sweat. She steps away from the window to put her hands on your shoulders, face full of determination.

“Just breathe, okay? I’ll go down and let him in, you just take a minute and come down when you’re ready.”

You nod dumbly, eyes widening further when the doorbell rings.

Eddie’s here… actually standing on your front porch. Bouquet of flowers grasped tightly in his own sweaty palms.

“Thanks, Nance.”

She just gives you a reassuring smile before starting down the stairs and opening the front door. To say Eddie is surprised when Nancy Wheeler appears at your front door instead of you is an understatement.

“Uh… please don’t tell me I’ve got the wrong address,” he steps back to take a look at the number on the house again.

“No, you’re at the right place. She’s just finishing getting ready, come on in.”

Nancy can see the way his shoulders sag in relief before he steps past the threshold. Dark eyes wandering around the interior of your entry way in utter curiosity. Pictures of you and your parents line the walls, but one in particular catches his attention.

You’re smiling up at the camera, eyes scrunched closed behind the round frame of your glasses— with your two front teeth missing.

The sight has him grinning despite himself, already catching more of a glimpse of the girl that’s been on his mind for the better part of that year.

“So… where are you taking her?” Nancy asks casually, leaning against the doorframe of your kitchen.

Eddie turns then, still clutching the flowers tightly in his fist.

“The Palace… and then Benny’s. But don’t worry, I’ll have her back before 11 pm. Scout’s honor.” He grins, raising his other hand in a mock salute.

You can hear their voices floating up the stairs, which only seems to worsen the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You take one last look in the mirror to straighten your top and make sure your eyeliner wasn’t smudged before you turn the knob and make your way down the hall.

The creak of the floorboards alerts them both to your presence when you slowly begin to descend the stairs. Your hand grips the railing tightly, eyes finally lifting once you reach the landing.

“Wow,” he whispers in dumbstruck awe.

You can feel your skin warm under the intensity of his gaze, tucking your lower lip between your teeth to hide a grin.

But the sweet moment is quickly squashed when your foot catches on the edge of the step, and you go tumbling forward. Eddie drops the flowers in his haste before closing that short distance between you to catch you in his arms. Your bodies collide, much like what happened earlier in the cafeteria.

Only this time he doesn’t let you go right away.

“Steady now,” he chuckles, and your eyes can’t help but drift lower to stare at his lips. “You okay?”

You nod, not fully trusting your voice when he’s so close like this, you swear he must be able to hear how fast your heart is fluttering beneath your ribs.

“Oh goddammit, the flowers.” Eddie groans, making sure you’ve got your footing before he bends down to pick up the crumpled bouquet.

“Uh, I promise they weren’t like this when I got here...”

He hands them out to you with a sheepish grin, the apples of his cheeks now flushed a soft shade of pink. And from this close proximity you can see the faint freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose.

Man, he sure is pretty…

“They’re beautiful,” you smile, finally finding your voice. “Thank you.”

“… well, you two should probably get going, right?”

You had almost forgotten Nancy was even there.

“Oh what about—” you gesture to the bouquet in your hands, but she quickly cuts you off.

“I’ll put those in some water and lock up for you, sound good?”

You don’t have much time for protest when she carefully takes the flowers from your grasp and nudges you right into Eddie’s chest. You apologize between small giggles when he steadies you again, and Nancy disappears into the kitchen.

His eyes are almost sparkling in childlike delight at the sound of your laughter, and it’s something he’d like to continue hearing for a long time. Eddie guides you both toward the front door. His rings clink against the knob when he swings it open, taking a slight bow before motioning you forward.

“Your chariot awaits, mi’ lady.”

The Palace is packed by the time you arrive, but for a Friday night in Hawkin’s— that’s no surprise.

Young teens dart between the different games with renewed excitement while Keith watches on with a bored expression. Eddie’s hand is held loosely in your own, fingers intertwined while you decide what to play first.

You both agree on air hockey, allowing him to tug you toward the table with a newfound pep in his step. He hands you the blue paddle, teasing telling you that red is always his color before he crouches down to slip two coins in the slot.

“Prepare to be demolished, sweetheart,” he grins cheekily.

Your stomach flips at those seemingly innocent words, and Eddie silently pats himself on the back for how flustered he’s already made you. That’s not something he’s used to, making a pretty girl fumble over her words. But it’s something he’s decided he wants to see a lot more of tonight.

Eddie ends up winning two rounds of air hockey, but his victories were entirely due to the fact that you were so distracted. Poised across from him, you spent more time admiring the way his tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration— or when he had to pull his wild hair back into a bun when it kept flying into his face.

Not that you would ever mention that little fact to him.

“What’s next?” you ask, unable to hide your glee when he takes your hand without hesitation this time.

“Have you tried Dragon’s Lair?”

He nods his head over to the game that was just recently abandoned in a fit of rage by short boy with dark hair. If you were being honest, skee ball and air hockey were more your speed when it came to arcade games. But the look of absolute delight on his face has you willing to try regardless.

And just as you suspected, you’re terrible at it.

You’re barely able to get past that first level without dying repeatedly but Eddie continues to give you an encouraging smile while he leans against the machine. He adores the way your lips are pouted in a slight frown when the dragon engulfs the knight in flames again.

“Here,” he mumbles, sliding in behind you. “Let me help.”

His arms cage you in against the machine, and you can feel the heat from his chest seeping through the thin cotton of your blouse. Ringed fingers gently hover over where yours are stationed on the controls, and in your nervous state you don’t notice the way his fingers tremble slightly.

Eddie guides your hands with ease, all but playing the game for you at this point. But your focus is no longer on the dragons and knights. They instead settle on his hands, and how they completely engulf yours in size. And the way his chain bracelet rattles against your skin with each flick of his wrist on the joystick.

They continue to travel a little higher, noticing how the muscles in his forearms contract each time he pushes that red button in rapid succession. It has your mind wandering to places that it definitely shouldn’t be…

Like how his hands would feel gripping your hips…

Stop that.

When you take a shuddering breath, you get another whiff of his spicy cologne when he leans his head forward. The faint hint of tobacco and mint still lingers on his lips when he blows a breath out in frustration when he finally looses that round.

The words GAME OVER flash across the screen in brightly colored letters, and you feel a little disappointed when he begins to remove himself from you. But you’re suddenly feeling a little bold, gently turning to grab his hand before looking up at him.

“Show me again?” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

Eddie grins down at you, eyes flicking down to your mouth for a fleeting moment. But his next move has your brain about to melt out of your ears.

He takes your lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, carefully removing it from between your teeth. He allows the pad of his thumb to graze over your lip while the other slips around your waist. Eddie guides you back around by your hips, quickly resuming his position behind you.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore

[samsno1]

Dream Of Me

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

i was going to do this fic much, much longer, it would have a whole plot and all but i am so exhausted i wasn't feeling it so have this short horny ass one-shot because i was ovulating while writing this lol

Summary: You quite literally got into Sam's head...

Warnings: SMUTish, m. masturbation, use of y/n, descriptions of nudity, *almost* cunnilingus (read it so you will understand lmao), kissing, nipple sucking, marking (?), english is not my first language

You can learn how to change "Y/N" for your actual name here

Read it on AO3

Read Part Two

WC: 2.3k

enjoy!

Sam kissed you deeply, his lips dragging against yours eagerly. His big hands grabbed at your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin through your clothes. His tongue sinfully entered your mouth, exploring the warmth and groaning at your taste.

Your hands wrapped themselves behind his neck, fingers brushing through his long locks, lightly tugging at each lap of his tongue through your lips. He slowly walked you back, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and Sam gently held your upper back to place you softly over the covers, mouths never leaving each other. His long hair tickled your cheeks, his nose bumped into yours. His desire was almost palpable as his kisses became more and more desperate, his hands clawing at your back as one of his knees supported his weight between your thighs. His long torso angled itself in an arch to keep his assault on your mouth.

When he finally pulls away, a whine escapes your throat, your raw lips begging for more as your eyes watch his flushed face. He panted above you as he straightened up, his arms crossing to grab at the hem of his shirt and pull it off, the collar of the clothing lifting his hair and then making it bounce back in place perfectly, a stupid grin on his face – a sinful, I know you like what you see grin – as he catches your beautiful eyes analyzing every bit of exposed skin.

He places both his hands on each side of your head, his hair framing his face, a little curtain to hide the absolutely hungry look on his eyes.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He questions and you nod in affirmation. He dips down again to attack your neck with open mouthed kisses and bites, making you whine and mewl on his ears and your hands reach for his back, your nails digging into the flesh. His hands drag down your front, bumping against your hard nipples and going low enough so that he can drag your shirt up, his obnoxiously long fingers brushing against your hot skin and throwing even more wood in the fire that was in your belly.

He pulls away momentarily and you lift your arms above your head so that he can take the shirt off for you, the clothing blocking the stunning view of an aroused Sam Winchester for a few seconds as it goes through your head. When he finally throws the shirt away on the ground he practically pouts when he sees the bra covering your breasts and sensually – slowly – trails his hands to your back, leaving yet another mind blowing kiss on your lips, humming, fucking humming in delight, just for being able to do this to you.

He unclasps the undergarment, and you feel him smile against your lips as if he was saying finally I can really see you. As he takes yet another article of clothing off of you he really eyes you down – I mean really. He registers every curve, every scar and every single particle of your skin, his lust-blown eyes eating you alive right then and there, your chest going up and down with deep breaths, your abused mouth half open, your hands splayed beside your head – everything.

He takes a single hand to caress over your skin, starting low at your neck and slowly coming down at the valley of your breasts, down your belly until he’s below your belly button then his other hand joins the action, one on each side of you, dragging up your waist and feeling around your ribs until they finally grab at each boob, squeezing. You groan and grab at both his wrists to keep him there, the little stimulation you got better than anything. He hums above you, his head dipping down to leave feather-light kisses over your collarbones.

“So pretty” He murmurs against your skin “So, so beautiful for me Y/N”

You sigh as he massages your breasts, his mouth dragging down to one of your nipples, wrapping around it and hollowing his cheeks, sucking on your skin and circling his tongue around your tit. You arch your back, a low moan rippling through your throat as you roll your hips, trying to find any kind of friction for the ache between your thighs.

“Sam…” You plead, grabbing at his hair to tug. He groans at your action, biting lightly on your nipple and you shriek. He lifts his head up, chuckling lowly, evil even, a smug smirk on his face, his dimples making him look even prettier above you. He lets your breasts go and smashes his mouth to yours again, swallowing your complaints.

His hands hold you at your belt loop and he bumps his crotch against yours and oh my god. You let out a cry, breaking the connection, and hide your head in his shoulder, your mouth kissing below his ear lobe as you whisper to him:

“Please, please, please, do something, Sam” You beg and he hushes you, one of his hands going towards your lower back to hug your naked tummy against his defined body. He squeezes your skin, wanting to mold into you and turn you inside out.

“Shh, beautiful, I’m gonna take care of you” He says, kissing your neck and unbuttoning your tight jeans with one hand. Excitement runs through his veins, his mouth still marking your skin.

His hand finally manages to unzip your pants and he flattens his palm against your lower belly to drag his fingers below the waistband of your panties. He swipes one teasing middle finger between your folds making you buck against his hand and let out a cry of desperation. He brings his finger out, making you groan in complaint until he lifts his head up, grabs your chin and makes you stare at him in the eyes.

When he’s sure you’re looking, he inserts his slick soaked finger into his mouth and sucks on it, pleasurable noises coming out of his throat as he savors your taste on his tongue, his eyes closing in bliss. The sight is beyond unholy, the action making your cunt clench into nothing, your glossy eyes couldn’t look away and Sam was taking advantage of that. Nothing you’ve ever experienced with anyone before made you feel so needy for someone's mouth between your thighs, eating you out with all their want, need, for you, nose deep into your pussy. Sam did that.

He takes his finger out of his mouth with a pop, licking his lips with his tongue and he opens his eyes to look at you and you are, for sure, looking at him, completely hypnotized by his spell. He grins and dips his head close to your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps all over your body.

“I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging me to stop, until you’re physically unable to take anything anymore” He whispers and bites at your earlobe and jesus fucking christ where did this man get this mouth. You let out a shaky breath at his words, the fantasy making you squeeze your legs together.

“Please, please, please” You beg as Sam starts kissing down your body, open mouthed kisses left and right. His mouth bit and sucked at points he learned made you tingly inside and your hips roll below him. When he gets to the waistband of your pants he hooks two fingers of each hand through it to drag both your underwear and your jeans down your legs. It felt cold for about three seconds until the sight of Sam looking up at your face through his long lashes, eyes filled with lust, burned you from the inside out.

Once you were completely bare under him he left kisses in each of your inner thighs, his calloused hands kneading on the skin. You look down again, his hair brushes your legs, his mouth so close, so, so close that you could feel his breath against your soaked cunt. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you felt like the last woman on earth, wondering how this man could be so perfect, inside and outside. He finally starts to approach your folds, his mouth slowly opening to wrap around your clit and…and…

“Sammy wake up!” Sam’s shaken awake by a hand on his arm and takes a deep breath in. He rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light that got turned on by whoever disturbed his sleep – his very good and desirable sleep. His blurred vision starts to focus on the figure besides his bed. Dean towers over Sam in his robe, an unfazed look on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand that isn’t holding his arm.

“Dean?” He questions, voice hoarse from sleep, as he sits up on the bed, the covers falling from his chest to pool around his hips, still hiding his legs below it. Dean drops his hand from his upper arm “What time is it?”

“About 10AM” He says “We might’ve found a case, we need your help with research” He affirmed and Sam nodded. Oh my god. You. How was he going to face you? How was he going to be able to concentrate on your explanation of the case to him when he just fantasized about his mouth between your legs eating you – scratch that – almost eating you out? I’m screwed. “Clean up and meet me and Y/N at the library” Dean says finally, snapping him out of his thoughts and giving him a slap on his back, to which Sam groaned in annoyance. He leaves the room soon after, closing the door behind him.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands supporting his upper body against the mattress. Just now did he notice the blood pulsing between his legs and the way he seemed hotter than usual. He rubbed both hands over his face, get it together, God damn it. He threw his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, making a beeline to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower, an ice bath, drown in the lakes of Alaska, anything to cool his body and his thoughts.

Every time he blinked there you were, his disheveled hair and lust blown pupils looking up at you. It had been some time since he started developing a crush on the huntress, your kind and caring – but at the same time firm and assertive – personality got him hooked pretty quick and your smartness always impressed him. Dean often made fun of you for being sort of a nerd – in his words – but that just made you even more desirable for him. And, of course, you looked incredible. Your killer body and beautiful features made you look amazing even when you were covered in monster guts.

Peeling off his clothes and turning the water to the coldest setting definitely helped. But, his boner was still there. He cursed to himself and hesitantly wrapped a hand around his cock, eyes closing and teeth digging into his lips to hold back any noise. He started rubbing slowly, up and down, visions of you on his head, beneath him, hair messed up by his hands and skin marked by his mouth and teeth. He wondered how your pussy would taste on his tongue, which noises you would make when he finally brought you over that edge just with his mouth. Then with his fingers. Then…

He quickened his movements, his chest going up and down quickly with deep breaths. Sam should feel bad for touching himself to the thought of you, he should feel bad for dreaming of you that way but he just couldn’t. The images of you flashing into his mind were making him feel thoroughly euphoric, his heartbeat could be felt in his ears and he couldn’t stop himself from imagining your cries of pleasure as he pumped into you or the different positions he could put you in. Fucking you against the shower wall or over the map table.

His drenched hair fell besides his face, the cold water running down his head and back as he slightly hunched over. One of his hands supported his weight against the wall while the other grasped tightly at his shaft. He thought about you moaning his name, much like you did in the dream, and how it sounded so sweet yet so arousing. 

His breathing was shallow, his hands were shaking and with a sigh of your name he finally came. He was in bliss, the orgasm hitting him like a truck. He pressed his forearm against the wall in a horizontal position and rested his head over it, his softening dick still in his hand. He opened his eyes, the sound of the water falling to the ground finally being processed by his brain again.

Jesus Christ.

The guilt suddenly hit him and he shook his head, partially in disbelief at what his body and mind made him feel. And do. Even if his body calmed down, his brain still had that dream practically memorized. He sighed, cleaning himself up all over again, the mess he made going down the drain, hiding the evidence. He got out of the shower, toweling his hair and drying his face.

He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. His cheeks were still flushed but, besides that, nothing could give anything away. He breathed out a chuckle.

“God damn it” He whispered to himself as he proceeded to dry the rest of his body with a different towel than the one he used in his hair, then wrapping that towel around his hips and going back to his room to change into different clothes. Today was going to be a long day.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo

Read Part Two

[angelicblondie]

boydguard!rafe x popstar!reader (MDNI)

note: I made the reader blonde bc i really wanted her to kind of encapsulate sabrina carpenter, so if you'd like, ignore that and imagine her however you'd like!

warning: unprotected sex (pls dont do this lol)

ok, fine. you had a crush on your bodyguard.

rookie mistake, but who could blame you?

you hired rafe about a year and a half ago, after you started to gain a ton of popularity and recognition. your music had blown up, prompting and influx of new fans, and new attention. you had started to get recognized almost everywhere you went, and when your management company recommended looking into getting a bodyguard, you weren't opposed.

at first, the two of you didn't talk much - he was an intimidating guy, he was generally pretty quiet and constantly wore a serious expression, and although you considered yourself outgoing, you still found yourself a bit nervous around him (not to mention, he was seriously hot).

but after spending much more time with him, you began to crack open the walls of his harsh exterior, and began to get to the know the man behind the suit.

he was actually really kind, and although his resolve with strictly professional, he turned out to be one of the people you trusted most, which made you feel all the more secure that he was the one who held your protection in the palm of his hand.

although there was still so much you have yet to discover about him, you considered him a friend at the very least, even if he might not have considered you one back.

not to mention, your big fat crush on him.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

you've reached the point in tour where the days blend together, and so do the nights. you've lost track of how many shows you've done, and how many you have left. but you wouldn't change a second of it, despite your exhaustion and the homesickness that pools in your chest.

you've reached the miami shows, which were around the halfway point for the american leg of your tour. you had arrived at your hotel last night, which you will reside in for the next couple of days.

you awoke alone in your king size bed, the sun shining through the sheer curtains. you groaned as you stretched, the sheets slipping form you skin and pooling at your hips as your arms reached above your head.

you rubbed your eyes as you walked over to the bathroom, turning the water hot in the shower as steam filled the room. you let the water cascade down your body, smoothing down the goosbumps that prickled your skin from the cold room. you spent a while there, enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning.

after that you got dressed into a simple jeans and a tank top, throwing a hoodie over in hopes of inconspicuity. you grab you handbag before leaving your room, making your way over to rafes to knock on his door. rafe doesn't take long before opening it, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, looking down at you.

he checks the watch on his wrist. "coffee time?" he asks.

"mhm," you nod whilst humming.

this has become a sort of tradition on show days - rafe takes you to the nearest coffee shop and the two of you sit down, going over the schedule of the day whilst you pry him for details of his life - it was a good dynamic.

after ordering you coffee, you and rafe found a table in the corner of the cafe, avoiding being recognised. you had black, thin oval sunglasses coverering your eyes, sipping you vanila iced coffee leisurly and rafe gave you the usual laydown. given the sunglasses covered your eyes, you took the oppurtunity to run them over his features, taking in the way his brows scrunched as he read the schedule off his phone, the bite he pursed his lips when scrolling to the next section, the way he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed and layed back into his seat - you saw it all.

ok, so what, you admired his appearance - so did everyone, he was a hot guy! the first time you really took notice of it was when you were scrolling on tiktok about 8 months ago, coming across a sideshow of photos of him and you, the comments thirsting over him and speculating about our relationship.

you couldn't look him in the eye that whole day.

you even embarrassingly wrote a song or two about him, one of them even making it in your album- not that he knew of it, but it was embarrassing for you.

it wasnt a crazy love song or anything, the title was "xo", and the precipece was really just admiring how hot he was and how much you wish you coud have him. so yeah, you get a little shy sometime preforming it, knowing he was backstage watching.

after rafe finished talking you placed your chin in your palm, leaning your elbow on the table.

"when did you get your first girlfriend?" you ask innocently, your influx of questions beginning.

rafe sighed like he always did, but he expected it. "9th grade. kylie newman. pretty brunnete." he respons montonously.

you frowned. you were a blonde.

"why'd you breakup?" you ask, swirling the straw in your drink.

rafe sighed. "think i dumped her to focus on basketball or some shit."

you snorted. "classic."

the corner of rafes lips tilted up in an amused smirk, as he scoffed and looked away, scanning the premises of the cafe. as if he was gonna find any danger here, you thought to yourself with an internal scoff.

rafe could pretend he didn't enjoy your company all he wanted, but you knew the truth. he found you amusing, and you would go even as far to say that he cared about you quite a bit, no matter how much of that he hides. he cares about your safety, and not just because its his job. you could just tell. you enjoyed your banter with him, no matter how much he pretended it was one sided and tried to stay strictly professional.

you continue your questions. "why'd you and your last girlfriend break up?"

he turned his attention back to you, leaned back with his arms cross over his chest. you eyes ran over his low visible torso, and you were starting to think that you eyesight wasn't as concealed as you initially thought, because he wore a little smirk on his face.

"cause a'you," he repplied bluntly, watching as your brows furrowed in confusion.

"ok, explain," you demand.

he chuckled. "nah, it actually had nothin' to do with you, really just this job. she wasn't willing to make long distance work," he said casually, as if it didn't bother him.

you frowned, having no idea he was dating someone right before taking this job. you felt a little guilty, even though you were secretly glad he was still single.

"im sorry," your murmur, sipping a bit of your coffee.

he shrugged. "not a big deal, it was a while ago now."

you nod, turning your head to take in the environment around you. you sigh.

"dont get me wrong, i love touring, but i'm exhausted." you say.

rafe nodded. "yeah, i can tell."

you roll your eyes. "how kind," you say sarcastically, but a little smile brightens up your features.

rafe chuckles. "didnt mean it like that, just meant i can tell since i know you."

you felt your heart flutter a bit as you held back a flirty comment, knowing he would ice you out if you said it. you had tried to be flirty with him in the past, but he didnt exactly tolerate it, taking a very professional approach to your relationship. that being said, you knew that you and him were closer than any other celebrity and her bodyguard - i mean, you could just ask any of your star-studded friends, they barely talked to their bodyguards.

you decided to play it cool and lean forward a bit more. "you dont know everything."

ok, maybe that was still a bit too flirty. you couldnt help it!

rafe raised his brows with a slight upwards tilt of his lips. "i know enough."

was he flirting back?

you bite your lip a bit and giggle, lifting you sunglasses above your head. "are you gonna come to the after-show ?" you ask, changing the subject, wondering if you could convince him since hes seemingly in a good mood.

since you were giving two concerts in miami, you did what you did at the end of every residency - you hosted an after-show. the after-show was really just the time after a concert where you and your team all got together in your hangout area at the venue and celebrated the show. rafe didnt usually come, instead standing outside the door on lookout.

rafe rolled his eyes. "your trying to get me in trouble." he stated, looking at you knowingly

your face twist in faux offense. "what!? i would never! you clearly dont know me as well as you think," you scoff dramatically.

rafe chuckled. "i'll think about it."

he'll think about it.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

you spent the rest of morning chilling, then rafe took you to the venue mid afternoon. he stood outside of your dressing room as you got changed, then you "forced" (as he said it) him to come inside as they did you hair and makeup.

you loved your show outfits, all consisting of short unitard dresses with sparkles and glitter, being the perfect mix of cute and sexy. the always did you hair with a slight wave and tons of volume, making it easy to toss during performances. you makeup was glowly and flawless, and you always felt like such a doll when you got all done up like this.

you wore chunky heels as well, which were a struggle to walk in at first but soon became easier as you got used to it. rafe sat on the couch as you talked casualy to him, the hair and makeup people smiling in amusement at his short responses, and your apparent unbothered state. your team at some point had entered the room, sitting around the couch as they made sure everything was prepared for the show. after the hair and makeup people finnished, they left, causing you to stand up from your seat.

you sighed, flopping next to rafe on the couch as he sighed, throwing his phone to the side and reaching behind your neck to un-squish your hair between your head and the couch, instead moving it so flowed off the end. you had told him a while ago that this was important so it didnt flatten, and you were honestly a little supprised.

your assistant snickered, knowing of your intrest in the bodyguard and you sent her an unserious glare. you sighed and leaned your head further back, closing your eyes as you focussed on breathing - an exersise that became a staple before shows. you brought your hand in front of rafe, and he wordlessly grabbed it, cracking your knuckles for you. that was also part of the tradition.

later on, when there was about 30 minutes before the show, you and your assistant emma were chilling in the hallways, sitting on the floor.

"so, hows rafe?" she asked with a little smirk. you nudged her. "shut up," you say, but a smile adjourned you features.

"c'mon, your telling me nothings happened yet?" she asked, her voice comming to a whisper.

you look around before answering. "its not like i havent tried," you huff, "hes just is so professional. hes set on the job, which as his employer, is great, but as the girl who wants him..." your trail off, biting your lip, "isnt great. and hes probably right, it'd be an awful idea to try anything." you justify.

emmas face is thoughtful. "yeah, i mean, your not wrong, but its bound to happen. your obviously both attracted to each other, so something is obviously going to happen."

you nod, but felt a bit of worry fester in your chest. you were worried he'd only want you for your body, not you yourself, which was something that you were so used to - you didnt want to put yourself through that again.

not too long later, you were under the stage, getting ready to be risen up to the crowd. holding you bedazzled mic, you get your classic pep talk from your manage kelly and nodded along, seeing rafe standing afar with his arms crossed over his chest in your periphery.

so when it was time for the show to start, you sent him a wink as you turned around, being lifted on to the stage as the screams become louder.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

after the show, your drenched in sweat, you hair is much flatter than before, and your filled with adrenaline still.

you receive the praise thrown your way by pretty much everyone backstage graciously with a big smile, still breathing hard and your heart has yet to slow down. once finally reaching your dressing room, you collapse on the couch.

you hear a knock on the door, and you yell out for the person to come in as you lift yourself up, and see rafe enter, closing the door behind him.

he tosses you a plastic water bottle. "good show," he compliments casually, causing you to beam.

"thanks. yeah it felt pretty good out there, energy was high, huh?" you reply, taking a long sip of the water.

he nodded, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm," he hummed, leaning his elbows on his thighs, "i specifically like that song you played in the middle of the set...blankin' on the name."

you hold back a blush, knowing he was talking about xo (aka, the song about him). you act nonchalant, crossing a leg over the other. "xo?" you ask.

his lips tilt up. "thats the one."

you hum, nodding a bit before looking away to avoid eye contact, getting a bit bashful. then you remember you conversation with emma before, and a sudden burst of confidence ran through you. you turn back to face him, playing with the hem of your short dress. "what about that one do you like?" you ask a bit boldly.

rafe blinked. "the dance is fun." he replies after a beat.

your body feels hot. the dance is a bit suggestive, much like the song, consisting of your hands running down your body and sinking low to the ground. he wasnt the only one who liked that dance, you had seen a lot of conversation about it online.

you hum. "what about it?" you ask, your voice light yet a bit suggestive. he raises his brows a bit at your question and you shrug casually. "for reasearch purpouses, of course."

he breaths out a chuckle, placing his hands behind him to lean back.

"the part during the chorus," he replies.

"yeah?"

"yeah, s'cute."

you scoff. "cute?" you giggle, sitting up a bit. "thats not exactly the intention." you state, biting your lip a little.

you were being obvious, you knew that. you could blame it on the post-show high, but you knew that wasnt why.

you were frustrated pretending that you didnt want him every single day. you were frustrated that he had continuously turned down your subtle advances, and pretended he didnt want you too. you saw the way he looked at you, the way he looked you up and down in your stage outfits when he thought you werent looking - you knew he was at least attracted to you.

he poked his tongue into his cheek. "careful, kid," he warned.

you tilt your head, gazing at him with faux innocence. "what?"

he shooks his head, breathing out a laugh. "swear your tryna' get me in trouble," he said, the air around you two beginning to feel thicker.

"trouble?" you ask, still playing the part. "i was just askin' what you liked bout' my show. why dont you tell me more? i've been waiting for some honest feedback."

rafe clenched his jaw a bit, sitting up straighter. "i think you look a bit desperate in the opening."

you raise you brows. "s'that so?"

"mhm. every guy in the audiences jaw was on the floor."

you tilt your head. "thats the whole point," you subtly tease.

you lean back, bringing you feet up to rest in his lap. he looks down at your shoes for a bit before looking back inquisitively at you. you giggle. "tell me more, rafe. im curious on your thoughts."

rafe shook his head with a somewhat defeated look. "you know my thoughts."

you perk up, swinging you feet off his lap to stand up right in front of him. "i do?" you ask, a flirtatious smile on your face.

he looked up at you, his jaw tight and expression grave. "enough, kid."

although usually you would be discouraged, maybe even a little embaressed, tonight you werent.

"not until you tell me your thoughts." you say stubornley.

he sighed, rubbing his jaw in frusturation. "what do you wanna know?"

you bite your lip, a subtle smile still on you face as your eyes glazed over with flirtation.

"how long have you known that xo was about you?" you ask after a moment, feeling as bold as ever.

rafe seemed suprised by my question, essentially outing myself. he pursed his lips. "long time, kid," he said, his lips forming in a subtle smirk.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "how come you havent said anything?"

"stop kid, you know why."

"cause you dont want any trouble? 'cause its not allowed? cause your just tryna do your job?" you answer boredly.

rafe nods. "mhm, exactly."

you take a step towards him, but rafe grabs your hips, stopping you from getting closer. he looks up at you with a dangerous expression, but instead of tell you to back off, he says, "what havent you said anything?"

your taken aback by the question being turned on you, but you dont falter. "cause of this," you say, looking down and refrencing his hands stopping you.

rafe looks too, but doesnt remove his hands, instead squeezing tighter. "yeah, well, this, is for a reason, kid."

you bite your lip. "ya know, im blankin on that reason right about now. how bout you?" you ask, you voice quiet as you felt the tenion between you two thickening by the minute.

your hands come down to his shoulder, smoothing over his suit jacket, squeezing his bicepts to feel the muscles underneath. your eye sigh follows your movments, his watching your face.

he takes a long breath, squeezing you waist harder. "princess..." he grumbles.

"stop me," you say, looking back at him, your voice quiet. "if you dont want this, tell me stop and i'll never bring it up again." your eyes held a bit of vulnerabilty, but were overpowered by the lust and desire you felt for him.

rafe almost looked pained - you knew you were putting him in a tough position, and it was a bit unfair, but you couldnt think of any other option. you knew you both wanted eachother, the only undecided factor was if you were going to act on it.

for a long moment he said nothing, and silence engulfed the two of you. after a while, his hands slid down to your hips, and his lips quirked up. "no one has to know, right?"

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

before you knew it, rafe was stood up, towering over you as he held you face in his hands, kissing you roughly. you reciprocated his fierceness, moving to slide his suit jacket off his shoulders, revealing him in a long sleeved, white button up shirt. whilst his hands slide down to grab your waist, your hands slide up the back of his neck, running yours fingers up his short buzzed hair, pulling him closer to you.

he turns the two of you around before blindly sitting on the couch, bringing you down to straddle his waist. he lets out a pleasure filled hum before disconnecting your lips.

"is anyone gonna come looking for you?" he pants against your lips.

you quickly shake your head. "no, told them i'll be awhile."

he nods. "good," he says, as he leans back in, instantly resuming where you left off.

soon enough his shirt was off, and you were only left in your bra and panties. you got to your knees , smiling wickedly up at him, swaying side to side on your knees to adjust into a comfortable kneeling position. you hand hovered over his bed, toying with the buckle.

"can i?" you ask breathlessly, you voice filled with wanton need.

rafe nods, eyes filled with desire. "all yours."

you swallow at his words as you look down to undo his belt, tossing it to the side as you unzip his pants, sliding both it and his boxers down to his ankles.

you uncontrollably gasp, taking in his size as as your hands hover around his hard length. you look back up at him, batting your lashes up at him. "your so big, rafey."

he groans gutturaly, throwing his head back. "shit, princess. no idea how long i've been waiting for this." he says, letting out a breathy chuckle.

you bite your lip to conceal the wide smile fighting to break out, and instead push youself higher on your knees, bending over to hover you lips over his dick, spitting a string of saliva over his tip.

he sucks in a breath. "shiiiiiit. y'tryna kill me?"

you smile up at him, moving your perfectly manicure hand to begin to stroke up and down his cock. moving slowly st first. he looked down at the action, transfixed by the sight he had imagined so many times before.

you brought your pink lips down to him, smiling sweetly as you gently kissed his tip, watching as his stomach clenched and he held back a moan.

your wraps your plump lips around him, sucking up to move you lips arounds the sides of his dick, kissing up and around him. you stuck you tongue out to lick a long stripe from his base to this tip, wrapping back around his to suck.

you bobbed your head up and down, hollowing you cheeks so he could feel as much of you as possible. you didnt go for too long though, becuase not long after you started, rafe lifted you up from the ground and laid you across him, you upper body laying on the couch as your hips laid on his lap, ass perched in the air.

you gasp at the change of pace, trying to pull yourself up on your elbows to look back at him but you feel his strong hand pushing you back down.

"shh, just gonna getcha' ready f'me, s'that ok?" he asks, rubbing his hands across my lower back and down the curve of my ass. you nod eagerly, whining out a "yes" as he slides your panties aside, and slides his middle finger between my folds. you suck in a breath, arching your back up, pushing yourself closer to his finger.

rafe tsks, swatting your ass lightly, causing you to jump. "ah, none of that," he scolds lightly, rubbing the inflamed skin. "sorry," you murrmur softly, and he returns his finger between your folds. hes rubs arounds, collecting your wetness before pushing his finger in, earing a sharp gasp from you. he chuckles under his breaht. "fuck, didnt think you'd be this tight, holy shit."

you whine as he curls his digit, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. he moves in and out, your walls squeezing around him as he adds another finger. he curls both his digits now, moving them in and out of you, causing you to squirm.

he soon pulls your panties down, pulling you back up as you hurriedly unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room. you straddle him and in a rush, you grab his base and align your entrance with his tip, but before slipping down he grabs yours hips.

"fuck, no condom?" he asks breathlessly.

your face drops. "shit, i dont have any." you bite your lip. "im on birth control," you inform, honestly not really minding no protection, even if it wasnt prefered.

rafe cursed under his breath. "fuck, ok, thats fine. i'll pull out."

he pushes you down on his dick, and your lips form a wide "o". your walls constircted tight around him, your hands pushing down on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself down.

"r-rafe, oh my god," you moan softly as you reached his base. your eyes remained on his, the intimacy making the moment feel all the more hot.

rafe did most of the work, squeezing your hips as he lifted you up and down his cock, grunting out praises. it didnt take him long before he felt himself holding back, considering he had fantasized about this exact scenario before. you reached one of your hands down, you fingers circing you clit to further the pleausre, prompting you to throw your head back and let out a wanton moan. from there it didnt take you that long. you whimpered out pleads, not exactly sure what you were asking for, all you really knew was that it wasnt enough, and probably wouldnt ever be enough. you wanted to be as close to him as possible.

"fuck, m' almost there, pretty." he groans, lifting his hips to meet. you whimper, nodding along to his words. "same, fuck, im close."

at the confirmation, rafe speeds up his thrust, groaning as he felt your gummy walks clench around him. it was like you were trying to get him to cum inside you, which would be very bad.

you let out a series of curses that sounded so wrong coming from your sweet mouth as you released around him. your eyes stayed locked on his, your distance between your lips growing as you orgasmed, rafe slowing his movements down to guide you through it. as soon as you came back to reality, you lifteted yourself up and retured to your knees in front of him, you legs achign but you paid it no mind. you stuck you tongue out as you rapidly stroked his cock, finishing him up.

with the hotest groan you had ever head, he came in your mount, hot streaks painting your tongue white as you watch him throw his head back, eyes shut in pure bliss.

after a few seconds of catching his breath, he looked down at you, white still on you tongue as you waited for his attention. with a sweet smile, you swallow his seed, bed over to place a kiss on the inside of his thigh. "thank you," you murmur.

rafe chuckles breathily. "fuck, i should be thankin you, kid."

you grin up at him, before standing up shakily, rafe holding your hands to guide you.

you clear your throat. "so, you doin anything for the rest of the night? i was thinkin' bout a long shower and i might need the protection of my bodyguard." you bite your lip.

rafes lips tilt upwards. "y'know, i was thinkin the same thing, princess."

ps: this is very lightly edited for now, i will be workshopping a bit tmrw. just wanted to get this out for you guys tonight 🤍🎀

[honeyedmiller]

Dawn’s First Light | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: jackson!joel, super fucking soft!Joel, sickeningly sweet fluff, joel is philosophical for .2 seconds in this, smut (f oral receiving, unprotected piv), praise, a whole lotta softness, sweet pet names, no use of y/n.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: joel tells you he loves you for the first time.

a/n: i literally whipped this up so quick after i reblogged the post that had a quote from jean-paul sartre’s no exit. hope you enjoy.

divider by @saradika-graphics

Soft. 

Soft was the first thing you felt as you woke up, then, rough. 

Coarse hairs dragged across the velvety skin of your thighs. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and you squinted, your pupils slowly welcoming the winter morning sun shining through the curtains of your shared bedroom. 

A hot tongue licked at your skin, up up up until it met your already sopping core. You gasped softly, relishing in the feeling of your boyfriend waking you up in the most delicious way possible. 

Early on in your relationship, you both agreed that getting awoken in such a way would be no problem whatsoever. 

Joel was meticulous with his tongue, the strong muscle taking its time as he worked it through your folds and into your entrance, then back up to circle your clit. His plush lips latched onto your swollen bud, and you cried out his name in pleasure. 

You moved the comforter down that he was buried under until you uncovered his head, nestled perfectly between your thighs as he lapped away at your slick core. You bit your lip as you stared down at him, blunt nails digging into the soft of your flesh as he took his time with you. 

Every sense in your body was heightened, spine tingling as you felt the slow pull of an impending orgasm. Joel’s eyes flicked open, gaze trailing up your bare body until his eyes locked onto your face. 

Your jaw was slack, pupils blown wide and eyebrows threaded together. He offered a small smirk as he kept working you, loving the way you writhed underneath his expert tongue. 

Your hand slid down to intertwine your fingers with his soft locks of thick, graying hair. He moaned into you as you pushed his face closer to your aching, pulsing core, grinding your hips up to match the rhythm of his tongue. 

He releases one of your thighs and moves his fingers up, detaching his mouth from you as he slides his thick digits through your glistening folds. 

“Mornin’ baby,” He breaths, a smirk stretched onto his slick-coated lips. You moan softly as he easily slides a finger into you, burying it down to the first knuckle. “Taste so goddamn good, darlin’. Sweeter ‘n honey.” He’s nearly breathless and his words are slurred with sleep. He kisses your thigh and slowly adds a second finger into you. 

“Joel,” You’re a whimpering mess, and he fucking loves it. 

“Tell me what y’want, baby. Tell me n’ I’ll give it to you.” 

“You,” You gasp, grinding your hips into his hand desperately. “I want you.” 

“I’m yours.” He whispers, leaning down again to suckle on your pulsating clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a delectable pace. He curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you squelching and moaning and fucking crying. You were a mess under him, trying so hard to catch your breath as that warmth that bloomed within you shot up your spine. 

Reality crashed down around you as your orgasm washed over your entire being, hips stuttering from his tongue cleaning up everything you gave him. 

“So perfect.” He says, kissing your thighs before trailing his slick lips up your body, licking your sternum before placing chaste kisses on both of your breasts. 

You tug on his hair gently as he flicks his tongue over your skin, wrapping his mouth around your nipple for a few seconds before moving to the other. He releases you from his mouth before he kisses your neck, biting down on your pulse point ever so slightly before kissing your jaw, your forehead, your nose, and finally—your lips. 

“My sweet girl,” He breathes, forehead resting against yours. “Did you sleep well?” He asks, cradling your cheek in his large hand. You nod and smile up at him, bringing him down for another kiss. 

“I did. What a nice way to wake up, too.” You giggle, and he smiles before kissing your nose. 

“My favorite way to wake you up, besides the multiple kisses.” 

Joel Miller normally wasn’t a soft man. It’s you who made him this way, just for you. It’s you who only got to see this loving, caring side of him. 

You, who’d charmed him with your wit and sense of humor and your pure tenderness. He had come into Jackson only a few weeks after your arrival, so you both navigated this life—this safe, luxurious bite at the cherry—together. 

He’d easily taken a liking to you. It started off with sitting with each other in the mess hall for meals, then he’d walk you to work when he could, and then it turned into him confessing his feelings for you after he’d had a tough patrol one spring day. 

From then on, the two of you seemed nearly inseparable. Jackson was a safe grounding—a haven—for many, if not all residents here. 

Joel was yours. 

Joel’s lips on your forehead drew your attention back to him, and you offered a soft grin as your nails trailed down his thick torso. You reached the tuft hair above his cock, hard and leaking pre come. Your lips curled into a saccharine smile, giving his silky flesh a few tugs before swiping your thumb over his slit. You brought your thumb into your mouth and sucked on it, humming at the salty taste of Joel. 

“Need you, baby.” His voice is strained, and you move your hand back down to slide his heavy cock through your folds to coat him with your slick. 

“I’m yours.” You repeat his words, and he kisses your forehead once more as he pushes into you. He sits up, hands grabbing your hips. He circles his thumbs into your warm skin, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a languid pace. 

You grasp onto his thick thighs, always needing to be touching him in some way. 

“Feel so goddamn good, baby. My sweet girl. Takin’ me so well, honey—shit. That’s it.” Joel murmurs his words, eyebrows pinching together as you rut your hips up to meet his every thrust. The friction of his coarse hair at the base of his cock on your clit is otherworldly, eyes rolling back at the sensation of pure bliss. 

Joel’s pace picked up, maneuvering himself so he was hovering over you. He gripped onto your ankles and tossed them over his shoulders, gripping onto your flesh for dear life. He kissed the inside of your lower calf, grunting and puffing air as he moved his hips expertly. 

“Joel, fuckfuckfuck, please don’t stop.” You cry as he pistons into you at that perfect angle—the one that has you seeing the whole goddamn galaxy. 

“My perfect girl. You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I—fuck,” Joel groans, moving a thumb down to swipe over your sensitive clit, making you gasp loudly. 

The sensation is almost too much, but it’s a welcoming devastation of bliss that ripples through you when that heat shoots through your body once more. 

“Can feel you—shit, yeah—I can feel you sweetheart. Let go. I got you.” Joel’s desperate voice reverberates off of the bedroom walls, trying his damndest to hold off on his own release until you come first. 

Just as he’d thought, it wasn’t far off at all. You cried his name repeatedly as the euphoric feeling overtook your body. 

JoelJoelJoel. 

Everything about him was all-consuming as you convulsed around his cock. A string of curses spilled out around his clenched teeth and through his lips, pulling out of you as thick spurts of his come landed on your stomach. 

He puffed air into your leg, kissing it one more time before looking down at you. Gorgeous: fucked out, glossy eyes and a smile that could end wars. 

He knew. Right then, he knew. 

He loves you. 

He has to tell you. 

He gently set your shaky legs down onto the bed, getting up to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean you up. Once the warm washcloth was carelessly tossed onto the floor somewhere, he climbed back into bed with you and slung his arm around you so you could cuddle into him. He carefully pulled the comforter up again, covering your bodies. 

Your hand played with the fingers of his hand that was slung over your shoulder, an unforgettable serenity wrapped around the two of you in that moment. 

“Much more likely you’ll hurt me,” Joel starts, voice gruff, “Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer—” He pauses, bringing your free hand up to his lips to lay a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.” 

“Sartre.” You say softly. He nods. 

“I love you. I love you so much that it fucking hurts. I—I couldn’t imagine living this life without you, anymore. You’re my person.” His voice is a whisper. 

Your eyes fill with tears, and you look up at him. He has a hopeful look in his eyes, and you saw that familiar thing flash within them. You never knew what that thing was, until now. 

Love. 

This man loved you. 

Just as you loved him. 

“I love you too, Joel. There’s no one else on this damned planet that I’d rather be with than you.” 

He kisses you tenderly, and you pull away with a whisper to your lips. 

“There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.” You quote to him, rubbing your nose against his gently. 

“Sartre.” He says. You nod. 

You kiss him once more, dawn’s first light now a shining beacon of pure hope… and love. 

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @punkshort ; @undrthelights ; @pascalpvnk ; @joelsgreys ; @amanitacowboy ; @pamasaur ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @javierpena-inatacvest ; @mrsmando

(if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!)

[vividxpages]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ ﾟ｡⋆grieving methods ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2500

summary: In the aftermath of your boyfriend's little brother's death, you try to comfort him as best as you can. (modern universe)

warnings: angst, grieving, hurt/comfort, crying, kissing and lots of tears

𓆩♡𓆪⛈

Silence greeted you as you quietly slipped into the house of your boyfriend.

You had been here countless of times before, but the rooms had always been filled with some sort of noise, keeping them busy and wonderfully alive. There usually was a warmth in them you often missed in your own home, but now it felt like all the lights had been blown out.

The funeral service had ended some hours ago, you knew that much.

You had not heard a single word from Jace since then.

You closed the door behind you, tucking away the key Rhaenyra had gifted you last Christmas, another big step of welcoming his eldest son’s girlfriend into her family. You were sure you’d gone insane today if it weren’t for the goddamn key. With no life sign of Jace, you had been worried sick all day. The service for Lucerys had been a very private one, given the nature of his tragic passing, and you had understood when you had learned only the closest family was allowed to partake.

It still didn’t mend the aching emptiness you had felt this morning, knowing deep down Jace needed you more than ever in those hours.

But you were here now. It was the least you could do.

You quietly made your way towards the staircase when you heard heavy steps across the hall, freezing. A pale and tired looking Rhaenyra emerged from the living home, her eyes puffy and exhausted as they landed on you.

You opened your mouth before she could. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before, but-  I wanted to see if there is anything I can do to help and-“

“My dear girl.” She interrupted you, stepping forward until she could cup your cheek. “There is nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve told Jace to call you earlier, but he’s been in his room for a while now and we all decided to take some time for ourselves.”

You nodded in understanding, thinking of the other members of Jace’s side of the family you had learned to love so dearly.

“I’m glad he has you, dear.” She told you, smiling sadly and turning away shortly to wipe her eyes. “Maybe he won’t show it at first, but I believe he needs you more than ever now. Go on.”

You barely could stop yourself from running up the stairs like a mad woman.

You always had known your Jace was emotional, as protective as he was loving of his family, but you had no idea what to expect now. Earlier this week, he barely had been human, void and still in shock over the loss of his little brother, but would it had changed now after they had bid Lucerys a final goodbye?

You tried to steady yourself, taking a deep breath as you knocked twice on his door.

No answer.

He needs you more than ever now.

You slipped into his room.

Jacaerys was very tidy, usually, the only mess he allowed in his room the disheveled sheets after you had tumbled into them after a night out or a long morning in bed together. But although the curtains were closed now, barely letting any grey light from outside into his little realm, you could see how he had neglected his rule in the past days. Old clothes littered the floor, a old sheets had been messily thrown over his wall of pictures over the bed, the little faces of him and Luke, you and the rest of his family hidden so they couldn’t hurt.

The sight that broke your heart though was the lump on his bed.

Jace was curled up into a ball, his back facing the room. Only his dark curls were visible underneath the blankets. His childhood plushie, a green dragon named Vermax, was peeking out from this mess and your chest tightened with emotion when you spotted Lucerys’ version, a grey dragon named Arrax, close by. Jace must’ve taken him from Luke’s room to find comfort in him…

Jace gave no sign that he had heard someone enter, laying still as if he was sleeping.

But you knew better.

You walked over to his bed, the frame creaking a tiny bit as you sat down on the edge.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand and placed it where you assumed was his bony shoulder.

No reaction.

„Jace.“ You whispered into the silence, biting your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. Right now, you needed to be there for him as he had been for you countless of times. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just- I wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me. I-I’ll go too, if that’s what you want, but I needed to check on you. I’m so, so sorry…”

For a while, nothing happened except for the tiny tremors going through Jace as you still soothingly stroked your thumb over his shoulder, trying to keep your own sadness locked within yourself for him. You were sure if you started crying with him now, you’d never stop.

But then, the sheets rustled and you held your breath as Jacaerys slowly turned around in his bed, your hand slipping from his shoulder. Your stomach tightened painfully at the sight of his swollen eyes, rimmed by redness and salty tears still running down his cheeks. His neck was blotchy as if he was still holding back sobs after hours and he was trembling all over.

He looked so helpless, so lost and utterly destroyed that you wanted to take him, lock in into your heart and never let him out again.

“Jace…” You inhaled shakily.

He surged forward, burying his face in your neck and pulling you against him as he cried, the sobs shaking him so violently you could feel them rock through your body as well. It was heartbreaking to hear and feel and you slung your arms around him tightly, trying to hold the boy you loved so much together somehow.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, tears of your own clouding your vision as you rocked him back and forth, rubbing a soothing hand over his back, brushing through his curls… You had never seen him cry like this. It felt like he was coming apart in your arms, losing it entirely but still clinging to you in the hope you’d save him.

You had no idea how much time passed as you held him in your arms, feeling him gasp for air and shake as sobs shook his entire being. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you, I- I just was- I’m sorry…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about.” You cooed, your hands finding his cheeks and trying to brush away the river he was fighting and losing against. A hiccup escaped him as he tried to make a sound of protest and you raised his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

“What can I do?” You whispered, brushing back a curl from his face. “I want to help you, my love. If there is anything…”

“I feel so heavy.” He whispered, voice raspy as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder. He still wasn’t really looking at you, but that was okay for now. “Like…I feel like today is on my skin and I’ll never be able to wash it off again.” His voice broke towards the last word and he shuddered, drawing you closer by the waist, a new wave of fresh tears dripping onto your collarbone.

You touched his chest, right over his broken aching heart and he held his breath.

Nuzzling into him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat and asked: “Do you trust me?”

Your boy had the saddest eyes in the whole world when he looked up at you. “Of course I do.” He answered in a quiet voice and you gave his hand in your lap a squeeze, slowly shuffling back so you could stand up and lead him.

You walked into the small bathroom attached to his room, a luxury you often had taken advantage of in the past. You had learned that Jace loved showers and loved them even more when you were in there with him, although those showers often ended with him on his knees and your head thrown back against the wall, trying to stifle your moans as he sensually ravished you with his tongue…

Now, he let you do what you wanted, standing completely still as you helped him undress, kicking away your own clothes in the process as you turned on the shower behind you and the room was filled with steam. When only his underwear and yours remained, you reached out a hand and led him under the spray of the shower, making sure it wasn’t too hot although that never bothered him.

You looked at him with love and sadness in your eyes and he looked right back into yours, finally allowing you to see him. His nose was running and you could see he had been biting at his lip, a little crust of red remaining on the bottom.

You tried to brush it away with your thumb and he exhaled sharply at the soft contact.

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you pressed your foreheads together, pleading: “Let me be of help.”

Carefully, you reached around him and grabbed his bodywash and a cloth. Jacaerys watched you silently, as if he could not explain himself why he was standing here, outside of his own body and mind. A fallen angel in your grasp.

Then, you began to clean him, your foam-covered hands on the body he thought dirtied and sullied by the heavy blanket of grief. He inhaled sharply at the contact, almost staggering back from the sudden gentle touch. But you moved with him and when your eyes met, both of their faces framed by your wet hair, you understood he allowed you this, allowed himself this.

Inch by inch, you washed away the imaginary dirt.

There was nothing sexual about it, you knew Jace’s body like you knew your own. He tilted back his head and closed his eyes, simply letting himself feel as your hands made their way into his hair, massaging his scalp with a layer of his shampoo, a smell you loved and made you sad now. He whimpered from the affection you offered him, unable to sort through his feelings and decide on one that needed the outlet the most.

Somewhere in-between he had begun to cry again and you softly spoke to him as you quickly rinsed off your hands, needing to touch him again, to remind him that you were here.

You slung your arms around his waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. “It’s okay.” You whispered, although nothing was okay and it wouldn’t be for a whole while. The water was dripping down your forms, both of your remaining clothes completely soaked by now. You blinked away your own salty tears once again and hoped he’d mistake them for droplets of water from the showerhead.

“Jace…”

He was already looking at you, mouth slightly open, eyes clouded.

The edges of his curls were brushing against your cheek, his lips briefly brushing against your own - and then, so quickly it gave you whiplash, his mouth was on yours, feverish and hot and bruising.

It was like falling over an edge.

A loss of control.

Jace held you impossible close, his slippery hands on your hips as he walked you backwards against the shower wall. You gasped, back aching as it hit the cold tiles, swallowing his own pained groan and for a second you wondered if you had hurt him somehow, but those thoughts quickly vanished as his tongue touched yours, the kiss becoming hurried and desperate.

You tried to keep up with his dizzying pace, holding on to his shoulders and kissing back with all your might when you suddenly realized that this was the words of grief he could not speak out loud yet. The only relief from the horrible last days he had gone through, his only shelter from the brewing storm above him.

But you also knew he was hurting and neither of you would forgive yourselves if you let this hurt go too far now.

“Jace, Jace, wait-“ You gasped against his lips, softly pushing at his shoulders until you could look at each other again, breathing heavily into the damp space between you. There was no look of bliss on his face or pleasure of what just happened between the two of you. “Let’s slow down, okay?”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry-“

“I have no right to just…use you like this.” Jace shook his head, brushing back his wet hair and shaking his head. “You wanted to help and I just make it all worse.” He gasped for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs.

“No, baby.” You murmured, taking his hand and resting it over your heart. “You’re not making anything worse and you’re not using me. Believe me, if I knew kissing you would make your pain go away, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But you’re grieving and you’re in a fragile state now. And that’s okay. But I’m here to take care of you, not make you even more unsteady, okay?”

He nodded, his bottom lip trembling. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here and- I want you to stay. Please.”

You had not planned on leaving.

You gave him a soft smile and together you made your way out of the shower, toweling each other down so you wouldn’t drip on the floor. Jacaerys murmured into your hair that he felt the tiniest bit better now, cleaner than before, and your heart nearly busted with love for this boy as you slipped a comfortable hoodie over his form and claimed one of his sleep shirts for your own.

His room was still clouded with darkness as you made your way into his bed, quietly slipping under the blankets and clinging to each other tightly. Jacaerys drew you close, inhaling your scent and sighing brokenly as your hand traced up and down his spine, the two of you sinking into his sheets like children.

Your legs tangled together, one of your legs slung over his waist and your hand buried in his curls as you listened to his breathing slowly coming down. The wing of his plushie dug into your back, but you didn’t care. You would not move, maybe not ever again if it meant his serenity.

He sighed, pressing a small kiss onto your throat before nuzzling your neck with his nose. He was utterly exhausted, on the brink of simply collapsing into unconsciousness.

Nothing was good.

You weren’t sure if it’d ever be again.

But as you held him in your arms, you knew that whatever was yet to come for him, you’d be there to stand it through, together.

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: The Stoner! Sero brain rot is real)

(I'd say "don't do drugs and stay in school, kids" but y'all aren't supposed to be here so I think all my bases are covered lol)

(Not proofread)

Word Count: 1,352

Summary- The herb might relax him but nothing helps as much as sinking into your hot, wet cunt.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs (Sero smoked beforehand + him and reader smoke towards the end), Pull-out method (use protection ppl, STDs and pregnancy don't seem fun!)

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Stoner! Sero x Fem! Reader: Stress Relief

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

From Hanta💕:

'Hey babe, mind if I swing by?'

Read 10:27 pm

It's as soon as your confirmation sends that you hear a knock at your window.

"There's no fucking way…" you mumble, moving to look past your curtains. Sure enough, the lazy grin of your boyfriend is just behind the glass.

"If you had said "no," this would be very awkward," his voice is muffled as he scratches the back of his head with a chuckle.

You slide the window open and yank him inside, ready to scold his recklessness. "What if you'd been caught? My parents would never allow you over again!"

Hanta pulls you in by the waist, "But I didn't~"

"Missed you…" He says, dipping down to kiss you.

The kiss tastes earthy and you immediately know the real reason for his visit. "Rough day?"

His head drops to your shoulder with a groan, "That obvious?"

"With the weed breath mixed with the way you're gripping my ass? Not at all." His hold loosens a bit at the call out, but his hands don't move.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"I never said you had to be," you guide his lips back to yours, backing up until your bed takes your legs out.

Hanta wastes no time following you down. His fingers come up to trace the line of your jaw before tangling in your hair, drawing it back so he can suck marks into the delicate skin. You can't help but to sigh out a moan when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. "I want you so badly right now, baby…"

"Then have me," you gasp at the cool fingers that are suddenly under your shirt, inching their way up to toy with your breasts.

They stop in their tracks as he pulls back enough to gaze at you with blown pupils. "Oh, I plan to."

His voice is rough with need as he sits up to shed his shirt, exposing him to your ogling. Once his shirt is somewhere across the room, he slides his hands back up your shirt until he can pull it off of you.

You work on your pants and underwear while he watches as more and more of your skin becomes available.

"Fucking hell, babe-" He grips under your knees to yank you down the bed, flushing your hips with his. Hanta leans down to kiss you again, shifting his weight to one hand as the other slides between you to feel the growing dampness between your thighs. "So wet... This for me?"

Gathering your arousal, he brings his fingers to his lips and makes a show of tasting you. The sight of him sucking your juices off of his fingers has you clenching around air, desperate for any relief.

With a *pop*, his fingers leave his mouth; he wipes his spit off on your sheets as you pull him down for another kiss. The earthy flavor of the weed he smoked earlier mixes with your tangy sweetness in a way that has your eyes rolling back and a moan sneaking up your throat. He grinds his hips into yours, letting you feel the prominent bulge beneath the denim.

"Sero Hanta, if you don't fuck me right now, I'm gonna riot, I swear to god-" You tug on his beltloop, getting impatient with all the touching.

"Someone's impatient," He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up, "Don't worry, baby, I gotcha."

Deft fingers unbutton his jeans and slide down the zipper; he shimmies out of them, kicking them to the side along with his boxers and finally freeing his hard length. You reach out, pulling him close as he crawls back over you.

His arm flexes next to your head as it takes on his weight while the other lines the head of his cock up with your slick folds. Slowly, he pushes into you, inch by agonizing inch, until he's buried to the hilt. A guttural groan escapes his lips at the feeling of your tight cunt enveloping him. "Fuck, you feel amazing..."

Your hands grip at his shoulders at the stretch, but your legs eagerly fall apart, allowing him to sink even deeper inside.

"That's it, baby. Open up for me; let me make you feel good."

His calloused hands grip your hips, steadying you as he starts to thrust in long, languid strokes. HIs eyes are hooded with lust as he drinks in the sight of you sprawled out beneath him.

You clamp your hands over your mouth as he picks up the pace, not wanting to be caught. Especially not when you can feel your core tightening, preparing for release.

Hanta leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he continues steadily thrusting into you.

Suddenly, he shifts, causing him to brush against you just right; the jolt it sends through you has your toes curling and your hand shooting up to grip his arm, desperate to grounding.

"Oh, my god, Hanta. Do that again," you plead, needing to feel that again.

A wolfish grin spreads across his face, his hips snapping forward again and again, abusing your cunt. "You like that, baby? I've got plenty more where that came from..."

"You feel incredible... so hot and tight around me." HIs thrusts pick up speed, pounding into you with deep, calculated strokes that leave you trembling. He slips his hand down once more to draw tight, little circles on your clit, matching the rhythm of his hips.

Your walls start clamping down, attempting to keep his length inside you as you get closer and closer to cumming. The sudden tightness makes Hanta choke out a groan; it forces him to slow to a grind inside of you. Your hips have started to roll up to meet his thrusts and god, you're so close.

His thumb presses harder against your sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "C'mon, princess, come undone for me; I wanna feel you fall apart on my cock."

His pace grows more erratic, chasing both of your releases as the coil of pleasure clenches impossibly within you. It feels like as soon as it tightens to it's limit, the coil snaps and you cum with a debauched moan. Hanta's hand shoots up from playing with your clit to clamp down on your mouth.

"Shhh!" His frantic shushing does little in quieting you when his mouth returns to sucking and nipping at your neck.

His hips start to falter, the clamping of your walls around him drawing his own orgasm out; with a few more erratic thrusts, he finds his release, slipping out of you just in time to paint your thighs with his milky spend.

With a final shudder, he collapses against you, rolling to the side just enough to avoid crushing you. He holds you against him as you both thrum with the aftershocks of your climaxes. Thoroughly dazed and satisfied, Hanta presses sloppy, lazy kisses along your jaw and neck.

After laying together for a minute, Hanta rolls over to grab his jeans from the floor, rummaging through the pockets before he suddenly grins, producing a blunt and his dented zippo. He nestles back against the pillows, pulling you against him. Flicking the lighter to life, he sparks the end, taking a long, slow drag. He holds the smoke for a moment before exhaling, the fragrant haze curling around you both.

"Care to share, beautiful?" He holds it out to you, gaze heated as he watches you take a puff with it still held between his fingers, your fingers wrapped gently around his wrist. Your eyes don't leave his as you slowly breathe it out through your nose.

His hand caresses your jaw, careful to keep the cherry away from your skin. "My pretty baby..." he murmurs before taking another pull, savoring the heady sensation as the drug curls around his mind.

He presses a kiss to your lips, prying the open and breathing the smoke into you. "Let's stay like this for a while, hm?"

[awakenedevildays]

「empty fridge and showers」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

The light coming from the open curtains and the tickle in his neck from your scattered hair wakes Art from his deep sleep. His hand, after petting your hair out of his neck and face, rest on your head to delicately scratch it until he feels you stir. You whine before covering you face from the light by hiding your face in his neck and he smiles sweetly. 

"good morning baby" his arms moves around your waist and shoulders and start to caress it lovingly, you hum in response "we should wake up, we have a lot of things to do today, including assemble the bed, we can't keep sleeping with the mattress on the floor" he says but you snuggle further on him.

"yeah.. in a minute Art" he laughs softly.

"Just a minute? we both know it's never a minute with you" he holds you tighter and starts to shower you in kisses and nibbles on your face and neck before moving to lay you on your back and him on top of you, his arms still holding you close to him. 

He looks down at you from above and takes in the view of your messy hair and sleepy eyes, and all he can think about is how absolutely beautiful you look like this. He smiles at you and can't help but kiss your forehead softly before kneeling up between your legs.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers caressing your thighs and you laugh softly, feeling your face flush a bright red "I love you" Art whispers before his hands run up your body and rest on your waist where he gives it a gentle squeeze.

You force yourself to open your eyes to look at him and his 'I just woke up' face makes you smile immediately: his bedhead hair is an absolute mess and sticks in every direction possible and his big blue eyes are slightly swollen as he looks at you with a smile that makes your heart melt in an instant, your hands moves up towards his hair and comb them to fix them, but in vain. 

Art lays on your body to nuzzle his face in your neck while your fingers run on his back and neck, he groans. The vibration of his voice on your skin sends a shiver down your spine, you sigh in content as you close your eyes.

His nose softly touches a sweet spot in your neck, right under you earlobe and he can smell your sweet scent when he moves to press a few soft kisses on it. You feel his hair tickling you, his arms holding you even closer to him while his body lays between your legs, now completely on top of you. 

You wouldn't be surprised if he started purring.

His face leaves your neck to trace a trail of small kisses towards your lips, but just as his are about to touch yours you put a hand on his mouth. 

His eyebrows lifts in confusion to ask you the reason of your rejection and your flushed face "what's wrong baby?" his voice is muffled by your hand.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet" you say and Art rolls his eyes and laughs softly. 

"I don't care" he states moving your hand from his mouth to pin it against the mattress and leans in to lock his lips with yours. He softly caresses your cheek with his thumb and keeps peppering your mouth with short, sweet kisses as you circle his waist and neck with your tired limbs. Art gives a happy hum when your action pushes his body completely over yours, he feels every part of you pressed against him while he deepens the kiss. He sneaks his tongue into your mouth without warning just to break it a few seconds later to catch his breath: he looks at your flushed face, your swollen pink lips and your wide, almost glazed eyes with blown pupils, Art hums in contemplation. 

"What?" You whisper and look back at him, he smiles and gives a little laugh before shaking his head.

"No I was just thinking that you are right, we should brush our teeth" he jokes and your cheeks flush in embarrassment, you push him away from your body.

"fuck off Donaldson" you get up from the bed, he laughs out loud and watches you from his sprawled position on the bed.

You flip him off in a joking manner before going to the kitchen and Art can't help but smile at you. He gets up from the bed and stretches his arms, his joints cracking before he ruffles his hair and follows you in the same direction. 

"what would you like to eat?" you ask as you open the empty fridge, his arms wraps again around your waist and his chin on your shoulder to look too "we have... nothing... nothing aaaand nothing" you close it. 

"what should we do? I'm starving" his stomach rumbles just in time against your back and so does yours, and both of you erupt in laughter, his deep laugh right against your earlobe. 

"hey listen.." you turn towards him "we could get dressed and eat something outside, then buy the forniture we still need and we'll assemble the bed this afternoon". 

Art nods and rubs his jaw in thought for a second before speaking.

"Sure, sounds like a plan but I'm taking a shower first, I feel nasty" he says. 

"okay, I'll unpack our clothes while you shower" you kiss his cheek but as you start to leave to go back in the bedroom he squeezes you waist again.

"ooor you could join me" you blush as he whispers hotly in your ear and smile. 

"That will not happen Art, we have to get out of this house, now," you say firmly and push him off of you again.

"you're mean!" he shouts but you only give him a little mischievous smile as an answer and Art whines loudly while watching you walk away. 

But just as you start to remove the clothes from the suitcases the water running catches your attention: you stare at the open bathroom door and bite your lip, hesitating: you can't lie and say his offer doesn't sound really tempting, but you try to think reasonably, you were starving and you really needed to get this house ready. 

'A shower won't slow us down that much" you think as you walk toward the bathroom but oh how wrong you were... needles to say, at the end you joined him in the shower, much to his amusement and in the evening you both find yourselves with the mattress still on the floor, the fridge unsurprisingly empty and the take-out bags on the floor right next to it, the house still bare but full of love and joy.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

my titles sucks but he doesn't 🥹

(do not copy or translate).

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

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Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him. 

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible. 

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say. 

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva. 

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction. 

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs. 

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.” 

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips. 

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts. 

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages. 

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought. 

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?” 

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time. 

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality. 

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close. 

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs. 

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”