#good lord this was hot and lovely and hot and tender and hot and perfect

[sometimesanalice]

WHEN I SAY THIS FIC DID A NUMBER ON ME I MEAN ITTTT! I am so incredibly invested in the three of them! Can you hear me yodeling on the breeze about the dynamics? Because I am.

Like the SMUT and the FEELINGS and the DIALOGUE! (look I haven’t even started the reblog yet and my all-caps have been activated. this woogirl has no chill)

the threesomeissance is here and I am thriving

More for you below!

“Anyone would want to sleep with me. I’m the most fuckable person in this room. Ask anyone.” - plsss the fact this this is how you choose to start the fic? so many chefs kisses 

Honestly, you can't even remember who made the comment that got him so worked up, so defensive over his own sex appeal...Maybe Rooster, actually probably Rooster.- ok but the sound I made because this is so amusingly on brand

overgrown ferret on his upper lip.- shots have been fired, but also the inner commentary is giving me life

You'd gotten a call from the Domino's driver to come down and grab the pizzas from the front door before Hangman could ask whatever pointed – and alarmingly observant – question had popped into his scheming brain. -this poor girl, no good deed goes unpunished (but also, thank god he was set on causing chaos because BOY did it pay off)

"Fine. Hit me with your best shot, Hangman."/Fire away and all that.- YOUR MIND. I legitimately giggled when I read this the first time, and did it again when I reread it.

Rooster absolutely crows with laughter as Hangman goes into a full control-alt-delete shut down and reboot, blankly staring at you with disbelieving eyes and a slack jaw. - I can literally see it and there’s so much blinking happening as the 404 error plays across his eyes

You glance over at Phoenix, who is regarding both of them with a smug smirk. You don't dare look at Bob right now.- I love this moment, because she has her secret with Phoenix, but then she also has a little secret all to herself.

You smile, radiant and knowing, with a “Follow up questions aren’t part of the game, Hangman,”- I love her for this because I know this is going to keep him up for dayyssssssss

"Am I allowed to ask a follow question?" A nod, and Phoenix looks kind of self-satisfied. Kind of smug. "Did you mean it? Or were you just kicking the chair out from under Hangman? Because..." She lowers her voice, all smoke and velvet. "I had fun with you before. Just us." - the DECADENT LAYERS HERE! I love that Phoenix gets to be smug because their history is something that they’ve kept for themselves. But also, like the inquiry of if she was being serious or not. Like was it a one time thing or was that door still open for more. But also, the prequel I BEG (zero pressure begging, but also I’ll give you a kidney. lmk it’s yours)

Phoenix leans in more, brushing the shell of your ear in a puff of warm breath. "Meet me in my room in 20 minutes."/Her canine grazes your earlobe for a brief second./You blink, dazed, and Phoenix is already walking away.- and this is where I too start to get dazed because GOOD LORD

What about Bob? is the question on the tip of your tongue, but obviously, you can't call that out in this room. He is still here somewhere. - THAT THIS IS HER FIRST THOUGHT HAS ME SCREAMING. and plssss she knows EXACTLY where he is, i just know it

A little over 20 minutes later, Phoenix has your wrists pinned down on her soft sheets, nudging under your chin with her slender nose in search of the sensitive spot on the side of your neck. - the woman works QUICK 😮‍💨

"You said 30 minutes, right? Should I – I can come back. We can catch up another time."/Despite the words, Bob doesn't move. He looks down, cheeks pink and flushed, but doesn't move.- important things I need to know, did him and Phoenix also have a casual thing??!! INVESTED I AM INVESTED

electric blue bra and underwear set that looks downright radiant against her dark hair.- I am watching Fubar and I knowwww

"You want him here, don't you, angel?"/"You told me before," Phoenix prompts. "Tell him." - I love that Phoenix clearly has a good relationship with both of them enough that she can be bossy for the greater good in a way that is still very gentle. Like she *knows* but she doesn’t want to push too hard, just the right amount.

He's always felt a little out of reach, so damn nice. You didn’t want to freak him out – or worse, offend him with a casual invitation to very casually fuck your brains out and maybe, let you suck his cock before or afterward./You’re not picky. Whatever works for him.- ANOTHER DECADENT LAYER! Her knowing that she’s into him, but not being able to read him because he is an angel gem. but also she’s so fucking real for this. “whatever works for him” plsssss

but you're not so fooled. She's giving him a moment alone with you....He coughs into his elbow, messing with his lenses, which are fogging every so slightly. "I do. You're very pretty and nice, and I've... I mean, I do want you."- I am so soft for this whole section, I love this so much. Phoenix giving them a moment together so that they can get on an equal playing field with each other. just gentle admissions of genuine interest, i loved it

You must really want us," Phoenix murmurs, warm against your ear, licking the sensitive patch of your neck again. "Come here, Bob."- its the *US* for me here, its such a lovely, thoughtful, and hot moment. because Bob isn’t just a supporting player for either one of them

She pulls you back from him with a hand around your throat – squeezing once, hard enough to make you feel light all over – and puts her glistening fingers in his open mouth./His moan makes you even wetter.- okokokokokokokokokok

"He believes me now." - THE FACT THEY BOTH SENSED IT I CANNOT

You knew Phoenix was good in bed./You had a feeling about Bob./Together?/You were absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt right.- BLESSSSSSSS LOVE THIS FOR HER

"Six months? You've only been here for like six months."/You cut in, "And I wanted to suck your cock the whole damn time. Any other questions?"/He audibly swallowed, and Phoenix grinned.- THIS IS ME YODELING ABOUT THEIR DYNAMICS NOW FFS THE CHEMISTRY THE CONNECTION THE BANTER I LOVE IT ALL

"She's so fucking wet for you, Bob. Jesus Christ," Phoenix moans. A wet kiss is pressed into the curve of your shoulder, against the nape of your neck. "Should I make her come?" /God... and Phoenix says it like, What do you think, Bob? Am I clear? Should I take the shot?, in the same voice from the air. Asking him to weigh the pros and cons. Deferring to his decision.- MORE AND MORE DECADENT LAYERS! Like the essence of degradation (but also not?) here as P&B communicate in a way that they can as partners who depend on each other to keep one another alive. I just. It’s hot hot hot but also so meaningful? They have their own connection, and they’re still on the same page together even in this new territory. (albeit a very sexy territory, lol)

You would breathe a sigh of relief when Bob nods, except for... well, obvious reasons.- I need an ice water. or some holy water. or an ice cold holy water ffs

"I could edge her for you. Make her wait to come on your cock."/God, Phoenix can be mean in bed. You'd almost forgotten./You kind of hate her for it right now.(You really don't.)- MA’AM I HAVE NO WORDS blesssssssssss

"So Bob seems to like that idea," Phoenix observes, almost conspiratorially.- I love that they’re having FUN. l love the banter and the little moments in between the spicy bits, it just makes it all so good!

"Fuck," Bob breathes again./You've never heard him curse so much, not even in actual missions.- ALL THE LITTLE ASIDES OF HOW THEY KNOW EACH OTHER AND HOW WELL THEY HAVE BEEN PAYING ATTENTION TO ONE ANOTHER I CANNNNOOOOTTTTTTT

You melt at the praise- I would too tbh

oh god, so good, oh god.- oh look, it’s me yelling about this fic and how stunning it is

Holy shit maybe./We should definitely do that again even- I AGREE I LOVE THEM ALL AND I AM INVESTED IN THIS THROUPLE I EVEN WANT TO SEE THEM GROCERY SHOPPING

Wetness dampens the sheets underneath you, and Phoenix licks the cum that drips down your legs, some yours, some Bob's, and kisses you right on the mouth. - and I’ll need another 3-5 business days to recover after rereading this bit phhheeeewwwwwwww

You definitely mean to get your clothes and pee and everything after, but Bob is warm against your side. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and passes out with an arm across your chest./Phoenix is the first one to leave the bed and even then, only to put on a quieter record and go right back.- THE SOFT SOFT INTIMACY OF IT ALL! like my heart cannot take thisssss. i am already in a weakened stateeee

I need a life alert because I’ve fallen and I can’t get up. I’d sue for emotional distress, but I’m so fucking obsessed with this all. Amelia, this was clearly spicy as shit (and OOF in the best way) but the lovely layers and the DYNAMICSSSSSS! So so stunning how you cultivated their relationship. I am so hooked.

supernova

synopsis: in a game of truth or dare, you reveal your dream threesome.

pairings: natasha trace x fem!reader x bob floyd

warnings: minors dni (18+) i am so serious, explicit smut, which includes... f/f/m threesome, oral sex, unprotected sex, blink and miss it choking, sort of dom phoenix, edging, cum eating, orgasm denial, overstimulation... and like, swearing lmao (wc: 3.2K)

notes: a little something something for my fellow bisexuals during pride month 🌈 and yes, i defeated awful writer's block with horniness and so can you 💖

much love to @sushiwriterhere @theharddeck @sometimesanalice and @roosterbruiser for letting me bounce many depraved thoughts off of them and i'm summoning a few people who might be interested: @princessphilly @seresinsweetie @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @bradshawsbitch @i-wanna-be-your-muse @sebsxphia and also no one look at me

“Anyone would want to sleep with me. I’m the most fuckable person in this room. Ask anyone.”  

"What's Hangman so up in arms about now?" Phoenix asks, sounding unimpressed. She leans against the pool cue, waiting for Fanboy to make his shot, and cracks her knuckles with one hand.

You shrug. "Who knows."

Honestly, you can't even remember who made the comment that got him so worked up, so defensive over his own sex appeal. His general fuckability – which as a side note, you're pretty sure is not a real word.

Maybe Rooster, actually probably Rooster.

Regardless, Hangman has decided to make them all suffer the consequences, going on and on and on.

"Fine," Rooster manages, choking down a laugh, almost always given away in the unmistakable twitching of the overgrown ferret on his upper lip. "Go ahead. Ask anyone then, Hangman. This will be good."

You are minding your own goddamn business in the corner of the common room, sipping a canned red wine that isn't half bad for the price. It is sweet, a little bubbly, pleasant.

You press your lips against the cool edge and are in the middle of a sip when Hangman catches your eye, a sharklike gleam in his green eyes.

Is it worse to make eye contact or break it? Is that bears or sharks who see it as a challenge?

And in truth, Hangman is neither. He's more or less harmless with a sometimes sharp bite.

You lower the can, slow and suspicious, narrowing your eyes at him with a raised brow. “Can I help you, Hangman?”  

Smirking, Hangman drawls, “You owe me a truth from earlier, ain't that right? You ran out on the game before I could get my question out."

You roll out a red carpet of curses in your brain and swallow another mouthful of the sweet red wine.

You'd gotten a call from the Domino's driver to come down and grab the pizzas from the front door before Hangman could ask whatever pointed – and alarmingly observant – question had popped into his scheming brain.

Everyone else has forgotten the game with some pizza in their stomach and a basketball game on the big screen, but clearly, Hangman has a good memory. Bastard. 

"Fine. Hit me with your best shot, Hangman."

Fire away and all that.

His canines are gleaming white. "Who would you most want to have sex with in this room? No, wait, I should give everyone a fair chance of selection. Pick two."

"Together? Or separate?"

His brows raise, and Hangman's smirk deepens. "Well, damn. Someone's a little adventurous." Your eyes are practically slits now, staring him down. "Together. Who would you have a threesome with in this room? And unfortunately, no, I don't have a twin."

“My nightmare,” Phoenix mutters, and Fanboy shakes with silent laughter.

“Hmmm…” 

An answer had popped into your head the second that Hangman asked, but in the name of suspense, you pretend to mull it over and really contemplate.

You look around the room. Halo and Fritz are on the sagging couch with Yale and Harvard in the opposite chairs, watching the game too closely to overhear this cursed conversation.

Bob and Fanboy are strategizing in the corner, but Bob is definitely listening. His shoulders don't look quite natural.

Across the pool table, Payback shows you his wedding band with a faux scolding expression. You grin.

“I guess I'd have to pick... Phoenix and Bob."

Rooster absolutely crows with laughter as Hangman goes into a full control-alt-delete shut down and reboot, blankly staring at you with disbelieving eyes and a slack jaw.

Someone should commemorate this moment. Add it to one of the frames in the Ready Room. 

"Are you malfunctioning?" You drain the rest of the wine and drop the can into the nearest recycling bin. "You know I'm bisexual, right, Hangman?"

"But Phoenix and Bob?" Hangman splutters, as if recovering from an ordeal with a capital O. "I need the reason. Why would you pick them?"

You glance over at Phoenix, who is regarding both of them with a smug smirk. You don't dare look at Bob right now.

You smile, radiant and knowing, with a “Follow up questions aren’t part of the game, Hangman,” and breeze across the room for another can of wine, patting him on the shoulder.

"So..."

Five or so minutes later, Phoenix sidles up to you and sits on the arm of your chair, ignoring the perfectly good and empty chair in the corner. Her boot brushes against your leg.

She leans in, and Phoenix's familiar vanilla and amber scent washes over you.

"Am I allowed to ask a follow question?" A nod, and Phoenix looks kind of self-satisfied. Kind of smug. "Did you mean it? Or were you just kicking the chair out from under Hangman? Because..." She lowers her voice, all smoke and velvet. "I had fun with you before. Just us."

"Both..." You pause. "I kind of wanted to knock him on his ass, but also, I was very much serious."

Her smile widens, and Phoenix leans in more, brushing the shell of your ear in a puff of warm breath. "Meet me in my room in 20 minutes."

Her canine grazes your earlobe for a brief second.

You blink, dazed, and Phoenix is already walking away.

"What about...?"

What about Bob? is the question on the tip of your tongue, but obviously, you can't call that out in this room. He is still here somewhere.

She looks over her shoulder, dark eyes warm with want and promise, and mouths, "20," with a wink.

A little over 20 minutes later, Phoenix has your wrists pinned down on her soft sheets, nudging under your chin with her slender nose in search of the sensitive spot on the side of your neck.

Her bottom lip drags against it.

You bite down on a moan, and in retaliation, Phoenix bites the spot harder.

"I want to hear you," Phoenix murmurs, an order wrapped in a pretty bow. "You sound so pretty, angel."

She kisses you again and sucks your bottom lip between hers, making it impossible to bite down on.

And with intent, Phoenix slides a smooth thigh between your legs, dragging her knee against the red flash of fabric that covers your cunt and grinds down.

"Come on. Let me hear you."

A drawn out moan escapes your mouth, and right then, Bob walks in.

He closes the door behind him, oblivious, and then, spots you both and freezes.

"Phoenix?" Bob manages, sounding uncertain. His eyes are wide and blue behind the wire frames. "You said 30 minutes, right? Should I – I can come back. We can catch up another time."

Despite the words, Bob doesn't move. He looks down, cheeks pink and flushed, but doesn't move.

"Don't worry, Bob." Phoenix releases your arms and climbs over the edge of the mattress with a smile. Walks over to him in an electric blue bra and underwear set that looks downright radiant against her dark hair. 

She looks like a goddess. 

"You want him here, don't you, angel?"

She circles behind him, sliding the plaid button-down shirt from his broad shoulders. It crumples to the carpet without resistance as Bob raises his chin and meets your eyes.

"You told me before," Phoenix prompts. "Tell him."

He is watching you, waiting on your answer with bated breath.

A long breath releases from your mouth. 

You push up on your elbows, then your knees, wanting to see him more clearly.

“Earlier with Hangman… I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted both of you. I want you – both of you – to fuck me."

His Adam’s apple moves as Bob swallows, sudden and hard.

He looks surprised. He shouldn't be.

He's always felt a little out of reach, so damn nice. You didn’t want to freak him out – or worse, offend him with a casual invitation to very casually fuck your brains out and maybe, let you suck his cock before or afterward.

You’re not picky. Whatever works for him.

You were pretty sure Bob was at least a little interested, but now... Bob only stares.

Phoenix gives him a gentle push and strolls over to the record player. She looks casual and languid, flipping through the records, but you're not so fooled. She's giving him a moment alone with you.

"Phoenix and I have... before, but I want you as much as I want her. Do you want me? is the only question, I guess."

He coughs into his elbow, messing with his lenses, which are fogging every so slightly. "I do. You're very pretty and nice, and I've... I mean, I do want you."

A smile dimples your cheek. "Oh, I'm pretty and nice, am I?"

"Shut up," Bob mutters under his breath with a slight smile. His ears are a little red.

You reach out and pull him closer to the mattress, pulling until Bob has to plant a knee on the edge to keep his balance. He watches you with wide eyes and says your name in a rush of breath – like a sharp wind over the ocean – and leans in, gravitating.

He cups your chin, slow and careful, pulling you in for a slow kiss that fizzles in your bloodstream like champagne. He is still giving you ample time to pull back and change your mind.

You deepen the kiss, even as Bob holds back.

You're still not sure Bob believes you.

Music swells from the corner, slow and sultry and sensual, as Phoenix settles behind you. She unlatches your bra and pushes it from your shoulders, running her fingers in soothing circles over the muscles.

She reaches between you and him, moving to cup your breasts, but at the last second, Phoenix skims her hand down the curve of your stomach and down and down, dipping under the waistband of your panties.

Clever fingers glide through your wetness, glancing off your clit in a tease that makes you whimper into Bob's mouth. A satisfied hum vibrates your back.

"So wet already, darling. We haven't done anything other than kiss you. You must really want us," Phoenix murmurs, warm against your ear, licking the sensitive patch of your neck again. "Come here, Bob."

She pulls you back from him with a hand around your throat – squeezing once, hard enough to make you feel light all over – and puts her glistening fingers in his open mouth.

His moan makes you even wetter.

You watch, breathless, as Bob closes his eyes and licks your taste from her fingers. His pupils are blown, eyes almost black, when Bob opens his eyes again.

His groan against your mouth is a rough sound, drawn out and unrepentant. He kisses you like religion, like a prayer.

Phoenix's voice is smug in your ear. "He believes me now."

You've been paired with Bob and Phoenix on enough exercises to know that the Naval aviators are an unstoppable pair in the air, cutting through the skies with grace and precision.

You'd imagined – more than once – that Bob and Phoenix would be an unstoppable pair in the bedroom as well. Sue you, okay? Who wouldn't?

Phoenix had been a force on her own, pinning you down and making your thighs shake over her shoulders; coaxing you to the edge and kicking you over without warning with a razor sharp smile that bordered on mean.

Bob always seemed so quiet. Seemed so unassuming.

But Bob dated, and on the one and only occasion the WSO brought a date back to the shared apartment complex, all of the Daggers had heard about the dying cat sounds that'd been loud enough to bleed through the walls. Hangman had been relentless.

You were seemingly the only one who could put the admittedly horrendous moaning aside and remember the other sounds.

(Oh, oh, Bob, oh, Bob. Fuck me. So good.)

You knew Phoenix was good in bed.

You had a feeling about Bob.

Together?

You were absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt right.

Phoenix is in the backseat for once but never ever on the sidelines. She seems to sense that the WSO might still need more reassurance, might need some control to feel wanted here.

She focuses on you, nibbling your neck and pinching your aching nipples, as Bob rests on the red and orange pillows, watching you swallow his cock, mesmerized.

You pull back, keeping him half in your mouth and circling his base with your hands, and run your tongue along the sensitive underside of him.

He bobs in your mouth, letting out a rough curse.

"Are you sure?" Bob had asked before, stilling the hands that were reaching for his zipper, running a thumb across the veins at the base of your wrist. "We can start with something else. I don't want you to feel pressure."

"Positive. I've wanted to suck your cock for about six months now."

He blinked, looking even more owlish with his glasses on the nightstand. "Six months? You've only been here for like six months."

You cut in, "And I wanted to suck your cock the whole damn time. Any other questions?"

He audibly swallowed, and Phoenix grinned.

You could easily get lost in him – lose minutes, even hours with the weight of him on your tongue and the sound of his broken moans in your ears – but Phoenix is too impatient to let that happen.

She nudges your soaked underwear to the side and pushes one, two, three of her fingers inside of you. You're wet enough that Phoenix doesn't meet any resistance.

"She's so fucking wet for you, Bob. Jesus Christ," Phoenix moans. A wet kiss is pressed into the curve of your shoulder, against the nape of your neck. "Should I make her come?"

God... and Phoenix says it like, What do you think, Bob? Am I clear? Should I take the shot?, in the same voice from the air. Asking him to weigh the pros and cons. Deferring to his decision.

You'll never be able to be paired with them on a drill again and not remember.

You would breathe a sigh of relief when Bob nods, except for... well, obvious reasons. You swallow around him, and Bob leaks against the back of your throat.

You're already aching, and Phoenix is pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. Pleasure is building in the pit of your stomach, and you need, you need, you –

"Or..." Phoenix drawls, easing up on the pressure, all casual and unaffected. She works you open, steady and constant, pinching the thigh that tries to rock you against her hand. "I could edge her for you. Make her wait to come on your cock."

God, Phoenix can be mean in bed. You'd almost forgotten.

You kind of hate her for it right now.

(You really don't.)

You whimper around Bob's cock and clench around Phoenix's fingers at the same time, digging your nails into the pale skin of Bob's muscular thighs, already bruised with a small love bite from earlier.

An abrupt fuck spills from Bob's bitten lips.

He pulls out of your mouth without warning, squeezing a hand around his base and screwing his eyes closed to keep from coming right then and there.

"Jesus Christ, Phoenix."

"So Bob seems to like that idea," Phoenix observes, almost conspiratorially. Her fingers catch your chin. "What about you, pretty girl? You want to come now or on Bob's cock?"

You are a little out of breath but no less certain.

"Do I even have to answer that?"

As a reward, Phoenix slips her tongue in your mouth and starts all over again, ever careful to pull back at the exact right moment when your breaths are short and your gaze is glassy and unfocused.

You are shaking and warm all over when Phoenix is satisfied, running her fingers through the arousal that slicks the inside of your thighs, underwear long discarded on the floor somewhere now.

"Can I..."

You are on your back now, and Bob leans over and sucks your nipples in his mouth. You lose focus, running your fingers over the hard length of him, smearing his pre-cum over the head.

"Can you what?" Phoenix prompts, ghosting a knuckle over your swollen clit. You quiver.

"I want to eat you out. Didn't get to do that last time, remember?"

You seize Bob's shoulder, keeping him pressed against your chest, and Bob makes a pleased sound, content to lavish your breasts with licks and nibbles right now.

You continue, "I want to eat you out while Bob fucks me."

"Well," Phoenix replies, breezily, brushing her hair over her shoulder and bends to suck on your other nipple. "We can probably make that work."

"Fuck," Bob breathes again.

You've never heard him curse so much, not even in actual missions.

A content sigh pushes everything else from your brain.

You lick at Phoenix again, licking a stripe up the center of her cunt, drowning in the warmth and silk, as Bob pushes into you from behind, bare and hard and so goddamn big.

Fuck is right.

"God..." Bob moans against your damp skin, pulling out and easing back in again. His accent comes out in bits and pieces, smoothing the edges from his words. "Feel so good. S'good for me. So good for us, darlin'."

You melt at the praise and nuzzle deeper into Phoenix with a sigh of pleasure, circling her clit with a content hum that makes her breath go all uneven and shuddering.

Satisfaction slides down your spine, warm and consuming.

You could stay here for hours between them. You would.

She's quick to instruct and correct, but once you're in a rhythm with your fingers hooked inside, Phoenix is nothing but moans and sighs and oh god, so good, oh god.

She comes in your mouth with a sharp gasp and rolls out from under you, which leaves Bob with enough room to double his efforts now.

He presses praise against your neck, circling his fingers around your clit with precision and attention; urging you to come for him with gentle pleas and deep thrusts and blissfully, a well-placed palm against your aching cunt.

You shatter around him as Bob spills inside of you.

Oh my god are the only words that are forming in your head right now. You want to say something else.

Holy shit maybe.

We should definitely do that again even.

But Phoenix doesn't give you even a second of peace.

"You're a mess, angel," Phoenix comments, light and almost mocking. She spreads your legs wide and looks you over. "Let me."

You expect Phoenix to wipe you down, but instead, Natasha presses her mouth against your sensitive cunt.

Stars erupt in your vision. Galaxies.

She licks and licks every inch of you, holding down your shaking legs, until you come again, damn near crying from the overstimulation, shuddering.

Wetness dampens the sheets underneath you, and Phoenix licks the cum that drips down your legs, some yours, some Bob's, and kisses you right on the mouth.

You definitely mean to get your clothes and pee and everything after, but Bob is warm against your side. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and passes out with an arm across your chest.

Sleep pulls you under soon after.

Phoenix is the first one to leave the bed and even then, only to put on a quieter record and go right back.

note: is she the filthiest smut piece i've ever written? maybe. she's named after red wine supernova by chappell roan, which is so fun and so queer and worth a listen 💖 leave a comment before i regain an ounce of shame.

[msbigredmachine]

Santa Daddy - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 3.7k words

A/N: Sorry I brought this in so late, I got sick. Better late than never though! Enjoy!

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

It was Christmas morning. Your face was a picture of utmost focus as you wiped away the hair stuck to your forehead. It was a mini madness in your open layout kitchen, but at least it was your controlled chaos. In a few hours' time, a select mix of friends, co-workers and family members would converge at your place for a Christmas sleepover for the ages, to mark your first holidays as Roman Reigns' fiancée.

What a crazy eighteen months it has been for you. If anyone told you that within that timeframe, you would escape from your abusive boyfriend, move states, find a new job and a new place to live, you would have laughed in their face.

And Lord knows how you'd have reacted if they added that you'd be dating a professional wrestler in that same timeframe. And not just any wrestler, but the marquee name, the number one guy in WWE. But here you were. In the house you lived in together. Diamond ring on your finger. Prepping dinner and being quite giddy about it too. It had been a long time since you were giddy about anything, but that changed after you said yes to a coffee date with Roman a lifetime ago, it felt like now.

The honey-glazed chicken, roasted potatoes and gravy were ready, as were the salads and greens. Your centerpiece was undoubtedly the smoky Nigerian jollof rice you couldn't wait for everyone to taste. The chocolate was fragrant as it melted in the pot and the sweet crème caramel was setting nicely. You really wanted everything to go smoothly today. Dinner first, after which everyone would gather in the den for gift swaps, karaoke, play some raunchy adult games, then go to bed whenever they liked before leaving in the morning for their drives home. It was the perfect itinerary and you planned to make sure it was.

You were whisking the chocolate sauce on the stove when the shuffling of a familiar pair of size fifteens invaded your ears. Your heart pounded a little harder anfd your brown eyes lit up as he walked into the kitchen, drinking him in with your heart-shaped mouth curving into a smile. It was incredible how he gave off the exact same aura and energy as his grand entrances to the ring with just entering a small room. It was intimidating in the sexiest way.

"I see someone found one of their gifts." Your voice was soft and sweet - a tone you used only for him - with the gentle tinge of a tease. Your man looked so good in his red Christmas-themed pajama set that matched yours, which he complemented with a Santa hat covering the top of his head.

Roman came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your neck. "You look amazing in yours," he told you. Taking a deep breath, he welcomed your fragrance deep into his lungs. Your scent reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day and the roaring fireplace several feet away in the living room. It reminded him of home. You were home.

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife-to-be. I love you." His voice was a low, tender rumble in your ear, and you shivered slightly as his hands massaged your waist, his warm breath caressing the sensitive nape of your neck.

"I love you too, Daddy. Merry Christmas," you greeted back, absorbing the aura, the love and affection radiating from him like a bright light. Gosh, how did you get so lucky, winding up with this incredibly handsome, sweet, gentle giant of a man as a life partner?

"It smells so good in here, babe," Roman complimented, dipping his finger in the gravy boat for a taste. "I wish you woke me up to help out," he added sheepishly.

You shook your head immediately. "Don't worry about it. You needed your rest from all the traveling you've been doing."

"What time do the festivities start again?"

You turned off the stove to temp the chocolate down and turned to him. "Not till like, three."

"Hmm, and it's only nine-thirty now. That's a whole lotta time to ourselves," he pointed out, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he tugged at the waistband of your pajama pants. "I know I got a lot of presents, but Daddy wants to open this one first. Can I?" he asked with a syrupy sweet voice that promised something much more carnal.

"That depends on if you were naughty or nice this year," you replied.

The dramatic pout that came with his puppy dog eyes was so cute. "I promise I've been a good boy."

You arched a manicured brow at him. "You sure? Not even the tiniest bit bad?"

Roman puffed out his chest and grinned proudly. "I'm positive. I made my woman very happy this year. That counts as good, right?"

The glittering rock on your finger answered that question. "Definitely," you agreed.

"Exactly. By the way, look up."

You followed his pointed finger. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the cabinet right above you. You met your fiancé's stormy stare, and your pussy purred from the mischief and lust you saw in them. You licked your lips with anticipation, knowing full well he was going to have his way with you, like he always did. Like you always wanted him to.

"C'mere." He guided your face to his own with his hand on the back of your neck. Your hands clutched his broad shoulders as your lips melded together in a soft, passionate dance. You stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours, worshiping each other's mouths, the smacking of your lips and hushed sighs mingling with the soft Christmas ballad playing through Alexa.

As you kissed, Roman couldn't help but get turned on. He let his hands slip down into the back of your pants and over your backside, molding your bare ass cheeks in his palms while you pressed yourself against him. You continued the increasingly intense makeout session, neither of you seeming to be in any hurry to stop.

"Santa Daddy thinks you've been a good girl this year," he murmured against your lips, "so good that you deserve a special present."

"Mmm, I love presents, Santa Daddy," you replied, allowing him to pick you up and place you on the countertop. He stepped into the space between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, while your arms curled around his shoulders as you dove into the kiss. He caressed your mouth with his luscious tongue in a way that made your knees weak. Your hands and his moved in unison, pulling off each other's clothes until you were both completely nude. The second your top was off, his fingers teased your nipples, which instantly pebbled at his touch. His broad chest was hard and warm against your palms, and you scratched your nails along his ribs just to hear him hiss in a breath right before his mouth latched onto your throat. You whimpered and gripped his hair. God, his mouth and tongue felt so good on your skin. He nibbled and sucked on you while massaging your right breast, and you felt the pit of stomach heat up with the rabid need for your pussy to be filled. The moisture pooling between your thighs could probably fill a lake.

With your eyes closed as you savored the sensations, you never quite saw him take the pot of chocolate, dip the whisk in it and wave it over your nipples. The chocolate that dripped onto your skin seared with heat, but his tongue was there to quickly lick it away before the pain registered as anything more than a turn-on.

"Mmm, that's tasty," he commented.

You watched him and his lethal mouth like a hawk. "You like that, Daddy?" you inquired, resting back on your elbows.

"Oh, I do." He drizzled more chocolate over your breasts. Your mind swam as he took his time sucking each soft flesh, activating your erogenous pressure point. He then dipped his finger in the warm chocolate then made a long trail down your lower belly. He licked that away, then used two fingers to paint your entire pussy with the hot chocolate, his face a mask of concentration as he worked on his masterpiece. Your body jerked and you sucked in a breath at the fire that raged between your legs. Then his tongue was down there, splitting your soft folds apart to delve into your sweetened essence.

Yanking the Santa hat off his head, your fingers threaded through his messy ponytail, pulling his face flush against you, writhing against him and begging for more. "Unnnh, babe, that feels so good," you groaned, your brain growing fuzzy as he French-kissed your pussy, pleasure licking at you with the same devastating impact as his tongue. "Fuck, baby, I love you!"

"I know," Roman moaned back, pushing your thighs further apart. "Spread your legs, baby...wider," he instructed you, his burly arms winding around your thighs and yanking you closer to him. "Mmm, perfect. Imma eat you off this counter, girl."

And he was. With gusto. Desperate for release, you tried to squirm but he had you pinned down to the kitchen island, keeping you still. You were panting hard as the tension coiled tighter in your belly. You were almost there, just a step away from that cliff, when he nuzzled his face against your wet pussy and flicked your hard little clit with his thumb. The pressure sent you over the edge and you moaned through the orgasm, your back arching against the cool surface of the counter. Your string of moans was an aphrodisiac to Roman, and he kept up his tender licking and sucking until your legs fell from his shoulders and you gave a shuddering sigh.

"Jesus," you whispered.

Roman resembled a kid in a candy store with his beard stained with cum and chocolate, eyes bright and lust-filled. He looked up, licked his lips with a smug smile and said, "Nothing tastes as good as you, baby," he praised, and your ego swelled. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel good. Twining your fingers in his, he pulled you upright and kissed your lips, sharing your tangy sweetness with you.

"Your turn," you announced, and slid carefully off the counter, pushing him to sit on one of the stools. You moved to take the pot of chocolate, but the three mason jars filled with homemade caramel sauce caught your eye. A devious little idea popped up in your head. Grabbing one, you unscrewed the cover, licking the sauce around the rim before grabbing Roman's dick with one hand, bringing the jar up to his plum-shaped tip.

"Fuck, girl," Roman shivered, his eyes wide when you dunked his dick right inside the jar. Your eyes shone excitedly as you pulled him back out, the thick, succulent syrup dripping down his pipe and around the rim of your hand.

"Mmm, look at all this sweetness on your dick, Daddy," you moaned, bending at the waist to capture his cock between your lips, your husky sigh vibrating against his sensitive skin. Roman moaned softly as you angled your bobbing head, sliding his dick further down your throat with the same rhythm as your hand stroking him, the sensations leaving him boneless.

"Shiiiit, just like that, baby, eat up my dick like a good girl, how's it taste, huh?" he managed to ask.

"Good," you hummed, working your tongue from the tip of his dick down to the veiny underside of his shaft, causing his breathing to grow labored as his cock throbbed in your hand.

"Oh my god, your tongue, dem juicy lips," Roman clutched your hair, watching you intensely. "Keep suckin' my dick, baby, show me what that mouth do."

Wordlessly, you drew his cock deeper into your mouth with a deep breath and started sucking him with only your jaw doing all of the work. His dick was more than sizable, but was no match for your mouth. Daddy had trained you well to handle all of that fat dick with your mouth and pussy. You paused to scoop more caramel sauce with his dick like a spoon, licking off every drop off his shaft with lavish swipes of your tongue.

"Put some on my balls," Roman instructed.

He held his dick up and out of the way while you rubbed a mix of chocolate and caramel all over his balls. As you sucked on them, Roman slowly massaged his dick, occasionally slapping your face with it. The visual of your arched back mesmerized him, the deliberate twerking of your plump ass cheeks as you pleasured him short-circuited his brain. Even hotter was the sight of his balls hidden in your mouth and the sauce mixture smeared on your chin. The contrast of the dark substance on your brown skin was so fucking sexy.

"That's it, baby, that's it...shit!" The Tribal Chief's deep voice was a strangled gasp, his breaths becoming even shallower as you popped his balls out to recapture his dick. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, lost in toe-curling pleasure as you lodged him in the back of your throat, your warm mouth swallowing around the base of his shaft like a suction. It was his turn to fidget in place, his fingers digging into your scalp as ecstasy loomed ever closer. "Baby I'm gon' come," he whined.

You moaned at his warning, the vibrations shuddering around his length. Your eyes locked with his as he started to fall apart. With a loud groan, he held your head still and gasped helplessly with each spurt of his cum gushing down your throat, his hips bucking from the force of his release. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt you swallow, drinking your fill, your tongue lapping up whatever you spilled. You pulled him out and gulped air back into your lungs, then glanced back up at him with those mischievous pretty eyes, pursing your pouty lips against his blunt head and making his cock twitch in your grasp.

"How the fuck am I still hard?" he half-laughed, half-choked, earning a proud grin from you.

"I got that magic mouth, baby," you declared haughtily, twisting your hand around him in gentle soothing strokes, "And you got this magic dick. You gonna put it on me, Santa Daddy? I know you want to."

"Damn right." He got off the chair and spun you around, bending you over the kitchen table. The tabletop remained cold against your bare, chocolate-streaked skin, and you shivered in response. It was only seconds before he guided your hands to grip the edges of the table in front of you. You moaned softly as he nudged your legs wider apart, hiking your ass slightly higher to press himself up against you.

"Ay, Alexa, turn that shit off, I wanna hear my girl scream for me," he growled at the air, and you burst out laughing when the kitchen fell into an abrupt silence.

His hard dick throbbed between your ass cheeks. He ran the thick head up and down the slit of your pussy lips. When he pushed the first few inches in, you whined pitifully. Your velvety womanhood pulled him in, eking a groan from the Tribal Chief as his big hands roamed your back and ass. His thrusts were slow at first, savoring the feel of your tight, wet pussy tugging at him with each languid stroke. You responded by bucking up against him, luring him even deeper into your body. You moaned together in mutual pleasure.

"God, so tight, so wet...bomb ass pussy," he grunted, smacking your ass and squeezing on the soft juicy flesh, knowing it would make you that much wetter as he stretched you open with that good dick. Your keening moans were nothing but fuel for him; he knew you loved it when he fucked you deep and hard and a little rough, ticking all your little sexual boxes that no one but him knew about. His rhythm was steady yet heavy, keeping you on edge with deep strokes right up on your g-spot. Leaning over you, he swept your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek, a hushed moan slipping from his throat when you squirmed against him, pressing your ass closer to his hips every time he pushed into you.

With the table pressing into your belly and his body trapping you against it, you felt his dick swell inside you, girthier and harder with every thrust. Your body was so sensitized from your previous orgasm that you felt another one build in record time. You wanted your second nut so bad, and you rolled your ass against him, hoping to put enough pressure on your clit to bring it on.

"Unnh yeah, throw that sexy ass back at me," Roman grunted with another hard smack to your ass which jiggled from the impact of his big hand. Said hand then made its way into your hair, the other gripping your waist as he grinded against you and you against him. He loved it; loved you, loved the feel of your bodies moving together, your juices dripping all over his dick, loved the fact that you couldn't seem to control the noises you were making as the kitchen echoed with the erotic sound of them.

"Oh, baby, I'm fuckin' close," you whimpered through your moans.

"How close?" he asked, his lips brushing soft kisses between your shoulder blades and trailing them down your back. His warm breath and his soft beard tickled your skin, and too aroused to answer, you merely whimpered again and bounced your ass more impatiently on his dick. The tension was there in your belly, swirling around so close to explosion, and you needed it like you needed air.

Roman's grip on your hair strengthened, anchoring himself to you. "Don't move. Lemme get that pussy." He was like a Ferrari engine, accelerating with harder pummeling thrusts that filled you to the brim. He was now balanced on just the balls of his feet in an effort to drive deeper into you, pounding you out until you were leaking down your thighs and all over his dick and balls. It felt so good. Too good.

"Yes, Daddy, beat that shit up...unnhhh, my god, I'm coming," you moaned long and loud as you unraveled like flimsy wrapping paper. Stars sparked behind your eyelids as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably from its intensity.

"Mmm, there you go sweetheart, soak my dick,  come all over it," he snickered proudly, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "Was that nut good, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, so good," you grinded out, lightheaded, your eyes glazed over and unfocused, even more so as you felt his hand spread over the back of your neck and hold you down to the countertop, his hips winding against your ass as he stayed burying his long, girthy dick in your warm, snug depths.

"Good, cuz I'm 'bout to nut too...shit, baby girl, this pussy amazing...You gon' make me put a kid in you..."

The thought of him breeding you with his seed had your pussy clenching around his cock, the suckling sensation reducing his husky taunts into yet another helpless moan. You could tell from his breathing that he was indeed close, his frenzied thrusts becoming sloppier as white-hot pleasure surged through both of your bodies in incredible waves.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Roman grunted, squeezing your hips for dear life as something snapped inside him. Slamming his dick into you one last time, he went completely rigid with a shout as he came hard for you. The warm wet spurts of cum emptying inside you caused your body to shiver against his as you milked his dick dry. His heavy weight kept you pressed into the hard marble table, both of you so limp that it didn't seem to matter that you couldn't breathe. Somehow, you managed to stand back upright, making him do the same behind you. As he wrapped you up in a hug, he was still inside you, and you tilted your head up to gently bite his bottom lip before licking at his tongue. It made him smile, and you couldn't help but smile back as he shared a long, greedy kiss with you before finally pulling out with a groan, slapping your backside one more time as he stepped away.

"Save some of that chocolate stuff for us," he said, grinning when you shot him a questioning look. "I want you to use 'em on me again later tonight."

You picked up the two sets of pajamas off the floor. "Hmm, you won't be too tired from dinner and all that?"

"Too tired to fuck you? Never, my baby girl."

"Then I'll make sure to bring a jar of each." You laughed as his Adams apple and his cock bobbed simultaneously, his imagination running wild with all the nasty things you would do to him.

"Good idea. Nah, scratch that, great idea," he corrected himself with a chuckle, lifting you into his arms bridal-style and carrying you out of the kitchen. "Right now, we both need a shower."

"Why do I got a feeling this 'shower' is gonna keep our guests waiting?"

He laughed with you and ascended the stairs. "You know me so well."

It was two p.m. by the time he was through with you. When you determined that your legs could function properly again, you dragged yourself out of his bed, changed into another set of pajamas and made your way back downstairs to put the finishing touches on the food and the rest of the house. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when this man came up behind you and ran his hands all over your body. His dick was hard.

"Again?" you breathed, biting back a gasp when he started undoing the strings of your pants. The guests would be arriving anytime soon.

"Just one more," he groaned huskily in your ear, grabbing a jar of chocolate sauce, "I've missed you so much, baby, I need to taste you one more time..."

About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Jey and his wife Larissa were your first guests. When the front door opened, they took one good look at you and Roman; disheveled clothing, hair out of place, the smear of sauce over your left breast and on the corner of Roman's lips, and put two and two together.

"Y'all nasty," Larissa giggled and entered the house, with Jey merely shaking his head behind her.

🎄THE END🎄

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

This is definitely my final story for the year. I'm so proud of how many I was able to churn out and EXTREMELY happy and proud of how much you all like it. Thank you all, I appreciate all your support and feedback more than you'll ever know! 🥺

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

[java-lava]

My Favorite webnovels/Webtoons/Webcomic/Whatever;

The Remarried Empress

My Gently Raised Beast

I Became the Villain’s Stepmother

Born as the Second Daughter

My In-Laws are Obsessed with Me

The Tyrant Wants to be Good

Men of the Harem

The Matchmaking Baby Princess

Who Made Me a Princess

For my Derelict Favorite

I Thought My Time Was Up

I’m the Queen in This Life

Tricked into the Heroine’s Stepmother

Woes of a Male Lead

Baby Tyrant

Hello Baby

Go Away Romeo

Monster Duke’s Daughter

Divorcing My Tyrant Husband

From a Knight to a Lady

The Male Lead’s Girlfriend

When the Third Wheel Strikes Back

A Heart for the Emperor

My Husband Changes Every Night

Edit to add(I’m constantly updating this);

The Twins New Life

I Got Pregnant with the Tyrant’s child

I’ll Raise You Well in This Life, Your Majesty!

The Evil Princess Dreams of a Gingerbread House

I’m the Soldier’s EX-Girlfriend

I Adopted the Male Lead

Villains Are Destined to Die

The Crown Princess Scandal

Marry My Husband

Perfect Marriage Revenge

Boyfriend of the Dead

Refund High School

Siren’s Lament

Empire’s Cutest Little Hostage

A Tender Heart; The Story of How I Became A Duke’s Maid (dropped due to SPOILERS the child being the ml and his nanny being the fl)

I Hold the Tyrant’s Heart

Lout of the Count’s family

I Am the Villain

The Crown Princess Scandal

The Dragon King’s Bride

Please Kill My Husband

The Reason Why Raeliana Ended up at the Duke’s Mansion

Am I Your Daughter?

Taming the Marquess

Pricilla’s Marriage Proposal

Crowning my Feral Prince

Under the Oak Tree

Finding Camellia

I Raised a Black Dragon

Adeline’s Darkest Night

Wish Upon a Husband

My Husband, My Sister, and I

I’m Being Raised By Villians

Talented Baby Squirrel

The Greatest Estate Developer

The Little Princess and Her Monster Prince

Surviving as the Tyrant’s Daughter

Father I Don’t Want This Marriage

Ten Ways to Get Dumped by a Tyrant

I Will Live The Life of a Villainess

Vampire Husband

Cursed Princess Club

What the Evil Dragon Lives For

1HP Club

Days With You

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures

Love Me to Death

Suitor Armor

I’ll Be the Matriarch in This Life

How is This Hot Duke Just a Background Character

My Three Tyrant Brothers

You Are Obsessing Over the Wrong Person, Lord of the Tower!

Beware the Villainess!

It’s Not Your Baby!

Being Loved for the First Time

I Will Divorce the Female Lead’s Older Brother

Everyone’s Princess

Villainess Have More Fun.

A Wicked Tale of Cinderella’s Stepmom

A Stepmother’s Marchen

The Beloved Fake Saint

Daughter of the Archmage

How to Hide the Emperor’s Child

The Male Lead’s Little Lion Daughter

The Crow’s Prince

The Reason for the Twin Lady’s Disguise

Adopted by a Murderous Duke Family

If anyone wants a one-shot based on a character from any of these, let me know

If anyone know where I can continue reading these for free, pls let me know (I’m broke);

Empire’s Cutest Little Hostage

A Tender Heart; The Story of How I Became A Duke’s Maid (nvm. About this one, I’ve been told that the child IS the Ml)

I Hold the Tyrant’s Heart

Lout of the Count’s family (found on Tapas)

Crowning my Feral Prince

[ilykaveh]

ꨄ︎ . ⋆ THERE'S GOTTA BE SOME BUTTERFLIES !

thoma.

ABOUT: there's nothing better than waking up with the inazuma's esteemed fixer by your side.

CONTENT: fem reader, praise, creampie.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

"morning, princess."

you couldn't imagine waking up to anything other than your boyfriend's raspy hums, riddled with sleep yet still so warm and enticing. his arms tugged you closer, securing your back flush against his bare chest as you both lay on your sides.

thoma placed a tender kiss to the back of your neck and then another to your cheek, making you giggle. you swivelled around and onto your back, with thoma hauling himself to hover above you. you could barely utter a "good morning" of your own before his soft lips met yours once again. 

mornings like this with thoma were a rarity, for he often needed to be at the kamisato estate in the early hours. today, however, it seemed that the esteemed siblings could wait a while longer. the sight of his tousled blonde hair created the illusion of a halo that the morning sun cast over him, and was accompanied by the melody of inazuma's local avians serenading the rising dawn outside of the windows. everything was peaceful and serene.

thoma's affections showed no signs of halting, as he continued peppering an abundance of butterfly kisses to every inch of skin he could reach: to your cheeks, to your nose, to your lips. the interaction was pure and innocent, playful and intimate. you could feel the beaming smile on his lips as they came into contact with your skin, radiating the omnipresent glee that made him inviting to everybody that was blessed enough to spend even a fraction of a second in his presence.

"thoma!" you finally got out, your own features exhibiting true bliss. "what's gotten into you, my love?"

reflecting your own joy like the perfect mirror, thoma replied with a grin: "can't i show my sweet girl how much i love her? if you'd rather i leave, i'm sure lord kamisato would appreciate my attention instead..." the teasing statement was punctuated with a playful chuckle leaving his lips.

you wrapped your limbs around the man, clinging to his body like an oversized koala. "not going anywhere," you mumbled, nuzzling your head into his neck.

the position gave thoma the perfect opportunity to start sucking at the delicate skin of your neck, teasing you slightly before attacking your sweet spot. you only buried yourself deeper into him, pulling yourself closer and inhaling his scent. meanwhile, he continued the assault on your neck, trail of hot skin left in his wake. though muffled by your head planted against him, few strangled whimpers slipped past the weak barrier of your lips. for thoma, this was encouragement to continue nibbling at your skin, warm breath tickling you as the ghost of a smirk embellished his features.

one particularly drawn out moan of his name caught thoma's attention, heavenly noises going straight to his cock.

"my pretty darlin', there's nothing in the universe more beautiful than that sound."

thoma's hand let go of you for a brief moment, only to snake its way underneath your shirt (well, his shirt, considering that you often slept in one of thoma's old black tees.) his thumb caressed your stomach before moving upwards to find your breast. he grabbed a handful of it, gently massaging and groping at the flesh.

your breath caught in your throat as thoma's nimble fingers flicked at your nipples, buds hardening under his touch. each tweak and tug exhibited expert care; you struggled against the urge to begin grinding against him as he toyed with you.

always the observant individual, he noticed this. you whined as thoma made a futile attempt to pull himself up and off of you, only to be forced back into your embrace once more. instead of sitting you up and watching you tremble as he played with you, thoma thought on his feet and came up with another option. one of his arms wrapped around your back once again, his other hand sliding between your legs. he traced a few languid shapes into your inner thigh, patterns that will soon be lost to time. thoma loved how hazy you already were, the remnants of sleep and strings of pleasure creating that fucked out look on your face.

thoma began by tracing your clothed cunt, feathered touches feeling how needy you were for him. both the way your hips subconsciously rotated against his hand and the little wet patch seeping through your underwear told him just what he wanted. lithe fingers pushed the material to the side, dancing over your puffy clit as he captured your soft lips in his own. you moaned into thoma's mouth, the calloused pad of his finger heightening your sensitivity. breaking away from the kiss, you began to beg.

"thoma," your voice breathy, "want you in me, please? need you,"

thoma couldn't help himself from being amused by your neediness, nor could he resist giving into you when you sounded oh so sweet. "of course, princess, anything you'd like."

he didn't bother to kick off his own underwear, simply lowering his waistband just enough to take out his cock. your own eyes remained trained on his face, how etheral he looked when bathed in the sun's early rays. he pumped his length a few times, smearing pre and preparing himself for you. he traced your slit until you whined. aligning himself with your entrance, slick already soaking the pair of you, he pushed in painfully slowly. 

you fit him like a glove, velvety walls enveloping thoma's thick cock. he moved to hold you close once again, letting you cling to him whilst he fucked you. his movements remained slow and sensual, relishing in how he could feel every part of you, just as you could him. with each thrust he bottomed out, retreating back until barely the head of his cock rest in you, repeating the motion over and over. 

he splayed a hand out over your back, encouraging the arch that let him pound deeper into you. his other arm caged you to his chest, positioned perfectly for him to whisper tender praises into your ear. 

"so good for me, baby. keep going, just like that, my perfect girl,"

thoma's pace eventually quickened, indicating that he was close to his high already. he could tell that you were too, fluttering walls ready to milk his cock for all that it was worth. "'m close," you confessed, although it was as clear as day to the man who knew you so well.

"going to cum on my cock, pretty girl? go ahead, baby, but i wanna hear you say my name,"

mind in a daze, the only word you now seemed to know was "thoma". each time he plunged into you, you punctuated his thrust with a whine of his name. thoma's cock kissed your cervix, gently tapping the opening with his blunt head. it drove you insane, repeating his name like a lewd mantra, the only thing keeping you anchored in the seas of euphoria.

thoma let you hide your flushed face in his shoulder and pull yourself impossibly close to him, holding you with one arm, and the other reaching between your bodies to rub a tight circle around your twitching clit. the added stimulation made you gush, pretty cunt squeezing thoma's cock enough to trigger his own orgasm. strings of his creamy cum spilled inside of you, the room filling with pants as you both tried to regain some composure. you remained clinging to him, as he did you. thoma made no move to pull out of you, simply enjoying the sweet afterglow that only he was privileged enough to see.

eventually, thoma felt it was time pull out of you, putting your panties back in place as the mixture of his and your cum seeped out of your used pussy. he moved to cradle your cheek, pulling you in for the softest of kisses.

"i love you," he whispered, forehead pressed against one another as you returned the sentiment.

thus ensued the kind of peace that can only be found at dawn in a bedroom, two lovers basking in each other's presence. the thought of getting up, showered, and ready loomed, though remained ignored for the present moment. the only thing either of you cared about was the other, further responsibilities forgotten for now. thoma laid back and you curled into him, accumulated sweat disregarded as you held him and he you, neither wanting to let go.

[millersdjarin]

My Hands are Shaking (From Holding Back From You)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (AFAB)

Rating: E (EXPLICIT CONTENT! 18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT, i am a slut !!!!, light d/s, joel in charge, communication, praise kink, pu**y slaps, just filth!!, aftercare, pet names, rough sex, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, established relationship

Fic Masterlist

notes: my god, sweet lord, just look at him. [title from "dress" by taylor swift]

Joel’s bedroom door is hard against your back, feels solid like a wall, but it rattles on its hinges with the force of him pinning you against it. 

His hips press flush to yours, one of his thighs lifting slightly and just about brushing your centre, but not quite. He doesn’t kiss you, not at first. Just hovers his face inches from yours, his breath hot and fast and enticing. It’s like he wants you to beg. He probably does. 

He takes a hold of your hands and threads your fingers together. It’s a moment of tenderness, the first one since he grabbed you and brought you in here and shoved you against the door as soon as it was shut. 

But then he lifts your joined hands, instead joining your own together on the door above your head. He holds them there with one of his palms, smoothes the other down your shoulder, your clothed chest, your waist. He’s so close, his wet mouth right there for you to kiss—but he told you not to. Told you to follow his lead.

And if there’s one thing you love just as much as Joel’s kiss, it’s hearing him tell you how good you are for him.

So instead you bite your lip, staring down at his hungrily, waiting for him to tell you where he wants you.

He breathes out, hot against your mouth. 

“Joel…” you whimper, throbbing getting intense between your thighs as his leg teases just below your cunt. “Joel, please…” 

Somehow he pushes closer without ever touching his lips to yours. He’s so close that you can feel the hairs of his beard brushing against the space between your nose and lips. His breath is right there, so familiar, you can taste it on your tongue. It’s not enough. “Please what, darlin’?” 

“Please, kiss me…” 

He smiles. You feel it. Finally, he hitches his leg up further between your legs, and presses there just enough to coax a moan from your throat, thin and breathy. “Such good manners,” he praises, then does exactly as you ask, like he can’t ever say no to you even though he’s supposed to be calling the shots. His lips are just as beautiful as always, diving in to your mouth with wild abandon. With every kiss since the first, it’s like it gets more perfect. Like he’s always taking the time to memorise the noises you make, the way you respond beneath his mouth and his hands and his tongue, remembering what drives you crazy and just how you like it.

Your hands twitch underneath his, still pinned against the wooden door. You want to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his face, through his beard. But you can’t, and the restriction sends a throb of need to your pussy where he’s still applying just a tiny bit of pressure. 

“Mm,” Joel murmurs, the vibration strong against your mouth before he’s pulling away again, not far but far enough to observe you. “Goddamn, darlin’. You want me to just kiss you all night instead? Make you wait ’til the mornin’?” 

“Joel…” you plead as your hands instinctively try to move again, but he feels it and presses them firmer into the door, harder. “I need you. Please.” You’d beg all night, if he told you to. You need more. His kiss is perfect and all you could ever really need, but the promise of his leg between your thighs and his warm hand caressing your hip is too much to stop just here. 

He smiles again, teasing glinting in his eyes. You gaze up at him with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, until he reaches up and pulls at it, freeing it and smoothing over the red marks where you’d bitten. “Easy, tiger,” he says lowly, “don’t hurt yourself.” 

He keeps stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. You can’t help it; your tongue darts out to lick him, pulling him into your mouth. 

“I keep your hands out the way and you still manage to find a way to touch me, huh?” He says with a lopsided grin, moving his hand down to grasp at your jaw, his wet thumb on one side and his fingers on the other. He grips you hard, anchoring your gaze to him. “Be good,” he tells you, “can you do that?” 

Just short of frantic, you nod. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes, Joel. Yeah, I’m gonna be so good for you.” 

“Good girl,” he praises softly, loosening his near-painful grip on your jaw but keeping his hand there, stroking at your skin. “Now you tell me if you want me to stop, alright?” 

You nod again, barely able to form a sentence, but at the expectant quirk of his eyebrow when you don’t give a verbal answer, you say, “I will. And you, too.” 

His face softens for a second, appreciative. He nods, then leans in, presses a soft, close-mouthed kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he breathes. 

“I love you, too.” 

Satisfied with that, he pulls back. His hand is slow as it pulls away from your jaw, like he’s trying to make the most of the touch. Keeping his eyes on yours, he slowly releases your hands. They’d started to go a little numb with the lack of blood flow. You couldn’t care less.

“Now, if you want me naked, you’re gonna have to do it yourself,” he steps slowly back towards the bed, and you follow him like you’re tied to him, like anywhere he goes you can’t help but go with him. 

Already nodding, you reach out your hands and start unbuttoning his green flannel shirt. He’s wearing a grey T-shirt underneath and you’re tugging it from the waistband of his jeans before you’ve even removed the flannel, too keen to get to his bare skin. When his navel is on show, you can’t resist; you bend down and open your mouth, going in to kiss his scarred stomach, but then his hands are rough on the back of your head as he pulls you back up to his level—

“I said undress me,” he says, raising a disapproving eyebrow. “Nothing else.” He’s pulling your hair, grabbing it in his fist. 

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, but open again in an instant, sensing his impatience. “Sorry,” you offer a sheepish smile, chin tilted up to look at him, “I couldn’t help it.” 

His thumb strokes at your cheek. “Be patient, darlin’. You said you’d be good.” 

“I will. I promise.” Your hands are shaking from holding back as you slowly remove the flannel from his shoulders, your palms brushing over the shoulders of his T-shirt, eyes falling over the bare skin where the neckline dips. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips without you even realising it. 

The T-shirt is off soon, messing up his hair as you pull it over his head. He didn’t say you could play with his hair, but you really, really want to, so you use the excuse of neatening it again to at least get a little feel. He smiles knowingly, probably seeing right through the ruse. 

“Messed you up a bit,” you explain, glancing at his eyes for a second before you pull your hands away. It takes every bit of your strength; you could run your hands through Joel’s brown and grey locks for the rest of your life and never get bored. 

He puts his hands on your waist and squeezes. It’s partially fond, partially a warning. Like he’s saying I know what you’re trying to do; get back to it.

So, you do. 

You unbuckle his belt, throwing it across the room once it’s free of its loops. Then your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans, the fly, and you’re tugging them down towards his ankles. God, bending down in front of him like this, seeing his bulge through his boxers and the thickness of those fucking thighs…

His boxers follow the denim, springing his cock free. It’s vulgar. It’s stunning. You can’t get enough.

“Don’t get distracted,” he tells you as he steps out of his jeans and underwear and lazily kicks them towards where his belt landed. 

You drag your eyes away from his dick and nod obediently, standing back up again. Your mouth is watering, torn between wanting to kiss him or suck him off. His body is so familiar, you’ve got a map of his scars in your brain; you don’t need to look to find them. You know how his skin feels beneath your hands, know exactly where he likes to be touched. The memories of last time are still fresh in your mind, but that doesn’t dull the ache between your thighs, the burning desire in your stomach to just touch him. Let him know how fucking perfect he is. “You’re perfect,” you tell him quietly, reaching out tentative hands to press against his ribs, unsure if he’ll allow it.

He softens just a little. Reaches up one of his hands and brushes the backs of his fingers down your cheek. You just watch him, eyes locked onto him, wondering what he wants you to do next. He leans in, then, and brushes a barely-there kiss to your mouth. “Your turn,” he whispers. Before you know it, he’s tugging your shirt from your head, leaning down to unbuckle your jeans and push them to the floor. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you step out of them, absently noting the pile of clothes that has quickly developed beside you.

Before you know it, only your underwear is left. It’s a lacy pair that you saved just for tonight. Normally you have no time for something this sexy, but you were expecting this, and you wanted something special. 

“Christ,” Joel curses under his breath. He’s standing a foot away from you, softly shaking his head as his eyes look you all over from head to toe and back again. “New underwear?” He asks, eyes twinkling when they meet yours again. 

Biting your bottom lip, you nod. You know that he’s only admiring you, that not one part of him is thinking you don’t look good. But standing here under his gaze in the middle of the bedroom, far enough from his body that you can’t feel his warmth anymore, you start to feel a little self-conscious. Maybe he doesn’t like the lace. Maybe you look different today. Maybe your new cuts and bruises have turned him off. 

You cover your body with your arms, crossing them in front of you. 

Noticing, he steps closer. Reaches out and gently pulls your arms apart, gazing down into your eyes with a heart-clenching mix of desire and adoration. “Don’t hide that beautiful body,” he says, soft, not a demand but a gentle request. “Please.” 

You nod, forcing yourself to relax your shoulders, to stop closing in on yourself. 

His hands in yours, he gently leads you towards the bed, walking backwards so he can keep his eyes on yours. “Lie down for me, baby,” he says softly, sliding his hand around to the small of your back and gently pushing you towards the bed. 

You do as he asks, and feel his eyes on you as you crawl up the bed. You can feel your wetness already, leaking through the thin lace of your panties. It makes you feel self-conscious to know that he’s watching you, your ass in the air. 

“On your back,” Joel instructs. 

With a nod, you turn, and lay your head back against the pillows. Your eyes find him, standing there at the end of the bed, looking down at you in the dim light of the room. He just stares. You know it’s because he can’t get enough. But that self-doubt starts to creep in, the awareness that you’re almost entirely naked before him and at his mercy suddenly all you can think about.

Your body instinctively starts to close in on itself again, but before it can, he climbs onto the bed and crawls up so he’s lying on top of you. “You,” he says, holding your gaze, “are so beautiful.” 

You swallow a lump of something, maybe emotion, maybe anxiety. Your hand finds its way to his chest, pressing against one of his oldest scars, right above his left pec. “Joel,” you whisper. “Please. Do what you want with me. I just—I need you.” 

Like that’s just what he wanted to hear, he smiles, taking a second to brush some stray strands of hair from your face before he moves that hand down, ghosting his fingertips over the curve of your breast. “Can’t decide if I want this bra on or off,” he mutters, gazing down at it. “Makes your tits look so good, but I love seeing ’em bounce for me, too.” 

The wanton moan escapes your throat before you can think to stop it, and your hips try to grind down onto something, thighs trying their hardest to squeeze together even though Joel’s knee is between both of yours, stopping them from getting closer. 

“Oh, you like it when I talk about your tits?” 

Grasping at the back of his neck, you nod, staring at his lips with a new level of hunger. “Yeah, Joel. I do.” 

“Mm. Well, they’re fuckin’ gorgeous. How about we keep it on for a bit, then I’ll take it off and watch them bounce while I fuck you?” 

Want pulses through your core, your pussy throbbing so hard that it almost hurts. “Joel,” you whimper, “please, touch me.” 

He grins. The hand ghosting over your bare stomach moves downwards, torturously slowly, and he watches with immense pleasure as your expression gets more and more desperate, your thighs trying their hardest to press together, knees pushing against his. “So needy,” he says quietly, voice gruff and husky. Just how you like it. 

Then, his hand finds the place you want it to be. Over your panties, he presses against the hood of your clit, hard enough that you really feel it. You gasp, unable to help it.

“Joel, please, more,” you beg breathlessly. 

Cruelly, he removes his hand. You’re about to protest before he gives you a firm look, raising an eyebrow like he’s challenging you to tell him what to do and see what happens. So you close your mouth, desperate above all else to have him praise you for doing exactly what he wants. 

He takes your hands, one in each of his. At first, you expect him to pin them above your head again, but then he stretches out your arms so you’re making a T shape. He turns your hands over so your palms are against the sheets. “Keep those there,” he instructs, holding your eyes so intensely it’s like he’s looking right into your soul, “and stay still. You can grab the sheets, but that’s it. Alright?” 

Biting down on your bottom lip to the point where you can taste blood, you nod. God, you’ve gone beyond throbbing now. You’re aching. Desperate. Leaking for him, probably already making a mess on the sheets even though you’re not entirely naked. 

Joel waits for a second in case you protest or tell him to stop. Then, after a quick kiss to your lips, he ducks his head down and presses them between your breasts. Your instinct is to grasp the back of his head, pull at his hair. Your hand is moving before you give it permission, but before it can reach where it’s not supposed to go, Joel’s hand shoots out to catch it like he’d been expecting you to break the rule.

He looks up at you. “What did I say?” He asks. 

“Stay still,” you repeat, “just grab the sheets.” 

“That’s right. This was your warning. I need you to focus on doing what I tell you, okay?” 

Gasping for air, you nod. After returning your hand to its spot, he places a little kiss on your sternum, then trails his lips all the way down, stopping when they reach the lace of your panties. 

Too slowly he pulls them down, unhooking them from your ankles after what seems like hours, throwing them onto the pile. When he looks back to you, your pussy now naked and flush and glistening before him, he smiles. “Now, I liked that lace, but this is a better view, huh?” He asks rhetorically before dipping his head again, and you feel his hot breath against your wetness before anything else. 

It’s perfect, he’s just leaning in, just about to press his lips to your clit when your hand moves without permission again, out of habit reaching up to grab hold of his hair. 

He pulls away in an instant and the lack of his warmth against you is almost painful. “You’re normally so good,” he sighs, giving you a disappointed look. “Come on, on all fours. Clearly your hands need to be somewhere, so you might as well hold yourself up.” 

Throbbing, leaking onto his knee where it’s in between your legs, you nod, and manage to pull yourself up on shaky arms and turn yourself over. You start to lean down on your forearms, pressing your head into them, but Joel wraps an arm around your chest and lifts you up. 

“On all fours,” he says again, just a gentle reminder this time instead of a warning. Because you had genuinely missed the part when he said that. 

It’s only just possible to hold yourself up when you’re shaking so much, so full of desire and want and need. If you could, you’d have your hands all over him, have his cock in your mouth, his nipples beneath your fingers, his hair in your hands. 

Instead, he spreads himself out over your back, hot and heavy. He keeps the one arm around your chest, the hairs of his forearm brushing against the lace of your bra. The other hand snakes around your hip, over the curve of it, across your navel. It’s quiet in the room, just the sound of his breathing heavy in your ear.

Then, slap.

He slaps your clit, just gently, but enough to make the throbbing even worse. “You said you’d be good for me,” he mutters in your ear, “so you’re gonna take this, and then you’re gonna take my dick, and you’re only going to touch me when I say you can.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut as tears of sheer desire sting at them, you nod. You want to reach backwards, put a hand on the back of his neck. Hold him to you.

But you do as he says. 

“I’ll be good,” you promise him, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss his forearm. “Tell me how good I am while you do it, please?” 

He kisses the shell of your ear. “Always, darlin’. Always.” Then he slaps your clit again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the room. He reaches down to pull back the hood with his spare hand, then slaps again, this time even harder and more intense now that it’s making direct contact with the bundle of nerves. It stings but sends jolts of pleasure and need right to your core as more wetness gathers at your entrance. 

“Joel…” you breathe out and are cut off when he slaps again, this time three times in a row.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs against your neck, pressing his nose there and leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin, “Taking it so good, huh? Just letting me hit that gorgeous pussy as many times as I want. God, baby, you’re so perfect. So good for me. Make me feel so good…” He’s grinding against the curve of your hipbone, cock hard and hot against your skin. You gasp at the feeling, entrance pulsing with need for him to be inside you.

He keeps slapping, emphasising each one with a kiss to the pulse point behind your ear, whispering praises into the soft skin there, letting them sink right into your bones. “So good for me. Such a good girl, baby, I love you so much. Gonna give you everything you need, that's right, I got you. Think you can come just from this? From me slapping that clit?” 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to form the words.

He slaps hard. “Answer me,” he growls. 

You moan in surprise and pleasured pain. “God, Joel, I…no, I think I need…” 

“Hm? Tell me what you need, baby. Tell me, or I’ll keep slappin’ till you can’t feel anything anymore…” 

“I need you—I need you inside me, Joel, and…oh, God, that’s good,” he starts rubbing circles against your swollen clit, so hard it’s almost too much as the nerves light you up from he inside. “Just like that. Just touching me.” 

“Think you’ve learned your lesson to keep still,” Joel decides, giving the gentlest of taps to your clit before easing on the pressure a little. You sigh, unsure if it’s out of relief or disappointment. Either way, Joel soothes it with a kiss to your neck and a gentle press of his fingers returning to the swollen nub. Then he slides them down, gathering wetness from your entrance. He slowly pushes a finger inside, and it’s like heaven. The digit is warm, though too small, not enough. He’s breathing against the back of your neck, one arm still wrapped around your chest and pressing you totally flush against him. 

Then, withdrawing his wet finger, he lifts up away from you for a minute. You sigh sadly, but then realise he’s working on the clasp of your bra. It parts with a gentle click, and falls down your arms, landing on the bed in front of you. He taps at your hip. “Turn over,” he instructs, “wanna see those tits bounce will I fuck you.” 

You moan and do exactly what he says. The bra gets tangled in your arms, but he frees you from it, chucking the final piece of clothing into the pile on the floor. 

Once you’ve rolled over, Joel holds himself up over you, and you see sweat on his forehead, his jaw clenching from restraint. He looks down at your pussy, smiles at what he sees. It feels swollen, sore. It feels good.

“You good to keep going?” He checks in, softening his voice for a second as he reaches out to brush some sweaty hair from your forehead. 

You’re throbbing, aching, and the answer is yes. “Yes, Joel. I need you. Please fuck me.” 

He smiles in affirmation. Then he lines his dick up, gently sliding it between your folds, gathering wetness. The tip of it brushes against your entrance and your hips instinctively buck down against the feeling, inviting him inside. 

“Do I have to stay still?” You ask him, breathless.

He gives you an appreciative look. “As much as you can.” 

“Can I touch you?” Your hands hover in the space between you. “I don’t think I can not touch you right now.”

He sees the sincerity in your face, hears it in your voice. Nodding, he leans down to kiss one of your fingertips. “Go right ahead, baby. Do what you need to do.” 

Grateful, your hands fly to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair and holding him there, never wanting him to move. He closes his eyes briefly. His cock is still brushing through your folds and you hear it, so wet and slick and filthy.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding down to hold his cheek. His perfect, perfect cheek. He opens an eye to look at you. “Please, Joel. I’ve been good, haven’t I?” 

He tilts his head to kiss your palm. “The best, as always,” he says. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushes inside you, buries himself right to the hilt.

A cry leaves your mouth. Your head tips back, eyes going to the ceiling. 

But his hand slaps under your chin, then grabs it, pulling you back to look at him. “That, I won’t have,” he tells you. “You look right at me. Focus, right here. Got it?” 

It’s never been a chore to look at him. You nod desperately, grasping onto him because it’s all you can do.

He uses one hand to spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, bending them at the knee then laying them down against the bed, leaving you in a frog-like pose. You’re completely exposed before him, entirely naked and at his mercy. You couldn’t close your legs if you wanted to. 

Then he’s back inside again. This time, the thrust is harder. It hits right against your cervix and he lingers there, revelling in the way you have to try your hardest to not let your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“I’m gonna fuck you real hard,” he tells you. “Is that okay?” 

Frantic, more frantic than you think you’ve ever been in your life, you nod. “Yes, Joel. God, please, that’s what I need—”

He doesn’t wait for any further confirmation.

He pulls out, shoves back into you with as much force as he can. The first few thrusts are every few seconds, giving you a chance to adjust. But as the whines get more desperate in your throat, as your nails start to dig in to the top of his back, he gets faster. You can feel your tits bouncing just like he wanted, so much that it stimulates your nipples with each thrust and feels so good. You want to play with them, want to squeeze your breasts in your hands, but Joel didn’t say you could touch yourself, so you don’t. 

Instead, you keep your eyes locked onto his face where he closes his eyes, his mouth hanging open just a little. You could take the opportunity to look away while he’s not paying attention, but you want him to open his eyes again and see that you’ve done exactly as he told you to. 

“Fuck,” he moans as his thrusts get faster, harder. He grabs you by the hips, pulling you down onto him. His dick is hitting the highest point it can get to, and it hurts in the best way, the kind of pain that turns instantly into pleasure, shooting out to every nerve ending in your body. 

“Fuck, Joel, that’s so good—yes, fuck me, fuck me hard—”

“You’re so perfect,” he opens his eyes again and looks proud when he sees that you’re still looking at him. “So good for me. Such a good girl. God, look at you, those tits bouncing with my cock…God, I bet you wanna touch ’em, don’t you, darlin’? You wanna touch yourself?” 

Your clit literally needs it, and you know that Joel knows that, knows that that’s what it takes to get you over the edge. But he’s leaving you without it for now, and it doesn’t worry you. He’ll get to that. He always does. 

For now, you just enjoy the feeling of him fucking you into the mattress, your spread legs straining with the force of trying to keep them still. They start to raise up a little, knees lifting from the bed. He slaps a hand down on each one, pushing them down. 

“Oh, God, Joel,” you curse as your nails scratch down his back, trying to find purchase.

“You wanna press those thighs together, don’t you?” He asks gruffly. “You wanna lift those legs and grind against my dick, touch your clit til you come, that right?” 

“Yeah,” you pant. “Yeah, Joel.” 

“I’ll do it for you,” he promises, and lifts a hand from your knee to press it against your clit. The sensation is white-hot, overwhelming, sending sparks of pleasure all through your centre and as far as it can go. “Yeah, darlin’, that’s it. That feel good? You gonna come?” 

“Mm!” Is all you can manage. The knee that he isn’t holding in place is trying to twitch up, trying to bend more comfortably. But you don’t let it. You won’t. He told you to stay still as best you can, and you can do this. 

“I know you wanna move,” he leans down so he can rest your forehead against his. “I know, baby. But you’re doing so good. Look at you, baby, doin’ what I ask. God, I’m so proud of you. Taking me so well. Come for me, please, baby.” 

You cry out as he starts rubbing harder circles against your clit, in time with his hard thrusts that somehow are getting more intense, harder—

“I said,” he stops suddenly, just pushing in once against you, burying himself to the hilt. “Come. Come on my cock now, baby. Be good for me. I know you can do it,” he starts to thrust again as pleasure coils tighter in your stomach. “That’s it, atta girl…keep your eyes on me now, don’t look away, let me see that face…”

You’re clenching around him, practically gushing. Pleasure sparks behind your eyes and you fight with all your might to keep them locked on Joel’s face at all times. It’s hard, but as your orgasm rises, the little itch of self-consciousness is gone and all you can do is chase your pleasure, unbothered by how you might look beneath him, fucked-out and trying your hardest to stay still. Your orgasm washes over you slowly and all at once, hitting you with force and keeping you up high for as long as it can.

His hand is rough on your hip, fingers digging in. “Shit, baby, felt so good…I’m gonna…” 

“Come inside me,” you say to him, holding the back of his neck. His eyes find yours again, asking a silent question. “Please, Joel. Please.” 

He does. 

His face relaxes, and it looks like he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes on you, too, like he’s returning the favour. You cradle his face through his climax, feeling every muscle tense and then relax all at once. He spills inside you, and as his thrusts get more erratic, it starts to squeeze out from your core with each push and pull of his cock. 

He stills. All you can hear is both of your panting breaths, feeling the sweaty skin of his back, his muscles flexing over his shoulder blades. His chest rises and falls. His face hovers above yours, panting into your mouth. 

"Oh, fuck," you whisper. "Fuck."

“You okay?” He asks, breathy. 

You hold the back of his neck. “Yes,” you answer. “Are you?” 

“Never better,” he smirks, then presses a kiss to both of your cheeks, your nose, your chin. He’s still inside you. You’re already dreading him pulling out. 

Self-consciousness creeps in again. There’s sweaty hair sticking to your face. He just fucked you into oblivion, you can’t even remember the noises you might have made. His hands have been all over you. You didn’t move your eyes away once. 

Until now. You cover your eyes with the crook of your elbow, shielding yourself from view as best you can. 

Joel presses tender kisses to your forearm. Then he lifts a hand and slowly coaxes your arm away. “Please don’t hide from me,” he whispers. “Darlin’, you’re perfect. I already told you.” 

“You weren’t just saying that cause you wanted to get lucky?” You tease, peeking out from behind the remaining cover. 

He chuckles. “You’re always perfect,” he says, like it’s a promise. “You don’t have to hide. I love you, you know that.” 

You let your arm fall back onto the bed, but close your eyes. “I just…I just need a minute,” you whisper to him, letting the darkness behind your eyelids soothe you, enjoying the moment of a little privacy. 

He strokes your cheek. “You did so good,” he whispers. “So, so good, darlin’. Kept your eyes on me the whole damn time. You take as much time as you need; I ain’t going anywhere.” 

You nod, and let the promise sink in. 

One of your hands lifts to stroke at his side, all the way from his hip to his ribs. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest as his breaths start to even out. He’s still propped up above you, still inside you.

“I’m going to pull out now,” he says quietly. “So I can clean us up a bit. Is that okay? Do you need more time?”

You think about it for a second, then shake your head. “I’m okay. Just—go slow. I’m already a little sore.”

He waits just in case you change your mind. Then, slowly, carefully, he pulls out his cock. It leaves your hole with a wet pop, and it hurts just a little, your insides and your clit sore from the action. 

A whimper escapes your lips.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning up to kiss your face. “You alright? That hurt?” 

“I’m alright. It did, but it’s okay.” 

“It got pretty intense there for a bit. I didn’t take it too far?” 

With your eyes still closed, you shake your head, and give a blissed-out smile. Pleasure is still buzzing beneath your skin, warm and comforting. “No.” 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingers there for a second. “I’m gonna draw us a bath, how’s that sound?” 

“Perfect,” you sigh. Then, taking in the throbbing still in your core, the swelling of your clit, “I’m still feeling really sensitive.” 

“Mm,” he hums sympathetically, stroking at your face. “Just relax, honey. I gotcha. You need painkillers? Ice?”

You don’t need to look at him to find his beard, running your hands through it comfortingly. Warmth settles in your chest, peace as you recover. “No. Just you. And a bath sounds good.”

“I’ll go turn on the water.” 

As he starts to get up, you pull him back on instinct. Your eyes open, finding him looking down at you with a soft frown. “Joel…” you feel vulnerable, so open here below him, so raw and aching. 

“I know, I know,” he soothes, “it’s alright. The damn bath takes near twenty minutes to run, so I’ll switch it on, and then I’ll be back. Okay?”

You hold his hand for a moment longer, then nod.

He’s back before you know it, a warm, wet washcloth in one hand. “You feeling up to me cleaning you off?” 

You wrinkle your nose, thinking about it. “Be gentle,” you say, “try it.” 

He nods. Kneeling down between your legs, he starts to gently wipe at your lingering wetness, taking extra care around your over-sensitive clit. Everything feels heightened and numb at the same time, but Joel’s hands are so soft and familiar that it feels comforting, makes you feel cared for.

Once he’s done, he reaches over to the bedside table and hands you a glass of water. “Have a drink, honey,” he says, gently coaxing you to sit up a little, holding the glass up to your mouth. You do, enjoying the cool water as it hits your throat. You’d moaned more than you realised; your throat feels sore. 

Joel has a sip too, then he pulls the blankets up from the bottom of the bed, tucks you both in beside each other. “You wanna cuddle, or do you need some space?” 

You shake your head. “Cuddle,” you answer without needing to think about it.

He pulls you in, turning you over to press your back to his chest. He’s so warm, his arm strong and familiar wrapped around your waist. His lips press to the back of your head, nose pressing against your hair. “You did such a good job, baby. I love you,” he whispers, “so much.” 

You kiss his knuckles. “I love you, too.” 

“Don’t fall asleep. We might flood the place if we forget the bath.” 

“I won’t,” you laugh a little. “Still too wired.” 

He presses a comforting kiss to your shoulder, hugs you in tight. “I'm here. I got you, baby.”

{end}

notes: yes hello i have been in a state of peril since my joel miller brain rot was reactivated (it never deactivated) with the show. i hope this eased it for y'all like it did me 😩 good luck out there fellow horny babes, take care of yourself, ily very much xo if you have any joel smut requests, hit me up ❤️

ps: this is fanfiction during the apocalypse so we make allowances but in real life don't forget to always practice safe sex!!! ❤️

[whimsicalpolitical]

Ross MacDonald x Reader

feral for him oh my lord- 18+ mdni

You’re just waiting for Ross on the couch, all dressed up for the little get together with some friends. In your hands a glass of water and a mirror, checking if your make up looks good.

“My hair is absolute shit isn’t it?”

You look up at Ross but you’re not fixated on his hair. Your eyes drop to his outfit. Black sweater with pulled up sleeves so his tattoos are visible. Dark blue pants, perfectly fitting his legs.

“Love.” He repeats, smiling at your visible attraction. “Does the bun look alright for you?”

“Ehm- of course it does. Looks good babe, really good.”

Ross chuckles, “not too greasy then?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling too hot. Your eyes drop to his arms once again. Following his veins to his fingers.

“Everything alright with you? Haven’t listened properly to one word I’ve said.”

A bit embarrassed you look into his eyes giving him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Everything’s perfect, you just look, uh, really handsome.”

“Ah come on now, not as gorgeous as you.”

Ross moves towards you, taking the glass from your hands.

“You do look absolutely gorgeous” his thumb lifts your chin, “so glad you’re mine.”

“Ross-“ you blush, standing up and burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your arms go around his body and he reacts immediately, stroking your back.

You only do that when you’re absolutely turned on and when you can’t tell him, Ross understands, of course.

Your cheeks flush. His skin is warm, and you breathe in his scent, a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

Ross chuckles, the sound a low rumble in his chest. "What's this, then? Are you feeling shy now?"

Your heart is pounding. You feel his arms encircle you, pulling you closer. His fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back.

"We're going to be late," he teases, but there was a tenderness in his tone.

“Not doin’ anything,” you mumble, “just wanna hug you.”

“Mhm,” he doesn’t sound too convinced and you already know he read you like a book. “Let’s go then.”

“One more minute.” You hug him even tighter, walking back to the couch, “c’mon Ross.”

Ross sighs, a mix of amusement and surrender. "Alright, but just a minute," he says, though his hands betray him as they tighten around your waist.

Your lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss, the kind that makes everything else fade away. Your shyness melts under his touch, replaced by a deep, aching need. Ross pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips.

“Baby, you minx.”

You glance at the clock, then back at Ross. A daring thought crosses your mind, and before you can second-guess yourself, you take his hand and guide him to the couch. He follows, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

As you sit down, you pull him with you, positioning yourself onto his lap. His hands find their way to your hips, steadying you as you settle against him. Your lips meet again, this time more urgently, a collision of need and longing. His fingers dig into your waist, pulling you closer, as if he can't get enough.

You run your hands through his hair, messing up the carefully styled bun he had been so concerned about. He doesn't seem to mind, groaning softly into your mouth as your nails graze his scalp. The heat between you is almost unbearable, a fire that refuses to be quenched.

He stops kissing you and you try to chase his lips but he almost runs away from them.

“What turned you on, love? Need to tell me or else we’re going to leave.”

You groan and throw your head back. “You know, don’t torture me.”

Ross lifts his eyebrows, “I don’t know, use your words, love. You’re always chatty, can’t just go all shy on me now.”

You huff, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Ross chuckles and rubs your back soothingly almost pathetic for you. “Do I need to tell you that you don’t ever have to be embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Then tell me.”

“Your hands Ross, your veins, your tattoos. You just look so fucking hot, s’pecially in this sweater.”

“Look at me,” he says, gripping your hair so lightly that you don’t even feel anything, nevertheless you pull your head back to show him your flushed cheeks. “What do you want to do with my hands?”

"I... I just..." you stammer, words failing you as your mind races.

Ross laughs softly, the sound deep and affectionate. He releases your hair, his fingers trailing down to cup your cheek. "Alright, love," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "I'll have mercy this time."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relief washing over you. Ross's thumb strokes your cheek gently, and you lean into his touch, your heart still racing.

"But you owe me," he adds with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Later."

You nod, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Later," you agree, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now come here.”

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn't take much else to get you to grind your hips down onto his bulge and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his tingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

“Lay down,” he says, gripping your hips to pull you down, “I’ll give you what you want.”

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of white panties underneath.

Ross sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the couch.

"Let’s make you feel good." he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.

"What did you say?" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson.

"Look at my hands, alright. It’s what you wanted, now don’t close your eyes or throw your head back or shit. Keep your eyes on me.” he continues.

"Because later you will sit at the table and look at my hands and all you’re going to think of is this moment.”

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.

"Ross, fuck.”

"There you go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the couch, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. How much you love my hands."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Ross" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I got you, love, don’t beg" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest.

"I always give you what you want, no?” He asks rhetorically, “or else I wouldn’t finger you even though we should be on the road already.”

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick.

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Ross, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.

"I know, darling, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

“No, love, what did I say. Open your eyes or I’ll stop.”

"Sorry, but please," you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together but you know better than to look away.

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb.

"Just let it happen, love. I can feel it, just let go" Ross says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

Your orgasm washes over you and you grip his shoulder, Ross still rubbing your clit through the wave of your high.

“Hm good girl,” he whispers, leaning down to pull you into a long kiss, his fingers still inside of you, “sweet girl.”

“Ross-“ you whine, the overstimulation slightly making you tremble. You breathe out when he pulls out, his fingers coming up to your mouth.

“Clean ‘em up,” he says, watching as you party your lips and take them into your mouth groaning at the taste of you.

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, “taste so good.”

When you’re done he pulls his fingers out of your mouth only to kiss you again, to try to taste yourself on your tongue.

“Feel better now?” He asks pulling away and sitting up.

You nod, “thank you.”

Ross shakes his head as he pulls your panties on, then your jeans. “I love doing that.”

When your pants are on he kisses your thighs over the fabric and stands up.

“We should go now though,” he smiles, “come on, missus.”

He holds out his hand and you gladly take it, feeling the bliss all over you still.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey if you’re interested could you possibly write something with Donna having a really bad lactation kink and try to hind it from R since she think R would find it gross, until one day where R’s producing to much milk and Donna finally gives into herself?

Yess! Well, tbh, at first I didn't want to write it, cause maybe some people find it weird or something, yk.

But on the other hand, the rules didn't say anything about it, so I thought it was fair. This oneshot maybe serves as a reminder of my writing limits. I'm never gonna write something beyond this one, this is the limit of the kinks I'm willing to write, I guess.

But don't worry, I'll continue writing your requests pleasantly!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))

An intimate act

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Breastfeeding kink, G!P Donna, Minors DNI

Word count: 3,191

Summary: Donna is hiding something, something she wants to do…

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Well, she fell asleep...” You sighed as you went upstairs, where the woman of your life, Donna Beneviento, was waiting patiently for you.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself living a true fantasy. After breaking down the heavy walls of the Lord's extreme shyness, and even starting a family, you were satisfied. You didn't ask for anything else.

Donna was a strange, disturbed woman, but terribly loving and kind. Surely all the villagers who compared her to a monster did so because they had never really met her. No one really knew her except you, or so you thought.

“Is she ok?” She asked, with that tender smile, with that smile that you could see after no less than two months of living together. You didn't need to see her face to love her, but the fact that she was able to show you one of her deepest fears made you love her even more. She was beautiful, no matter how many times she denied it.

“Yes, she's fine,” you said, plopping down on the couch, still uncomfortable from having to feed the baby, who didn't seem to have been very hungry.

Donna smiled again and looked away from your body.

Since little Angelica was born, something had changed in Lady Beneviento. At first you thought it was fear, fear of motherhood, of not being a good mother. Nonsense, she loved the baby, and she would do anything for her.

But that didn't mean that her behavior was normal, quite the opposite. Donna was always a sick and troubled woman, but since the birth of your daughter her behavior began to become increasingly strange.

Donna was never with you when you had to feed the baby. She always remained distant during those times. Modesty? You doubted it. Even when it was time to turn off the light, taking advantage of the fact that Angie was babysitting, she was not the same Donna as she had been a few months ago.

She seemed nervous, worried about something, especially since that night, a night like any others of passion on the couch before going down to the bedroom. Everything was going well and you, the truth is that you needed the love that seemed increasingly elusive. Your body had changed, your breasts performed that important function, and they were sensitive, which caused Donna, carefully grabbing one of them, to stain her hand with milk.

At first you thought somehow that upset the lady in black, because her kisses stopped and her body started to shake. You soon realized that you were wrong. A guttural moan left her lips and the hot liquid you felt on your belly told you what had happened.

Naturally, Donna was embarrassed, she apologized a thousand times claiming that your body was perfect, and she couldn't hold back. You didn't give it any importance, until the passionate encounters in any room of the house were becoming less and less.

You never spoke to Donna about that incident, and neither did she, but her nervousness generated a kind of regression, a kind of return to those times when words did not usually come out of her mouth.

“Ugh,” you sighed, amused, fanning yourself with your hand. It was quite hot that night and the last thing you needed was that horrible pressure on your breasts, and the consequent dampness they left on your dress.

“Has the girl eaten?” Donna asked, putting her book aside and looking at you tenderly. Well, at least that night she did seem to want to talk. You never insisted. You knew she needed time for herself, although you couldn't help but be worried.

“Yes, but not much,” you said sincerely, opening the cleavage of your dress more, causing poor Donna to suddenly look away and her hands to grab the fabric of the sofa. “I must have like tons and tons of...” you joked, stopping when Donna's breathing suddenly became heavy. “Donna, are you okay?”

She nodded with an outrageously fake smile. Okay, that was the last straw, you had to ask.

“Hey, Donna, lately you've been a little... weird, I mean, more than usual,” you said, trying to joke. A bad idea. With Donna you had to be very careful when making jokes.

Her gaze locked onto yours and the blush on her cheeks was quite noticeable.

“I'm fine, (Y/N),” she said dryly, looking at her own dress. Although she tried with all her might to hide it, it was impossible for her.

“Okay, okay, Donna. Tell me what's wrong,” you said, holding her hand, fighting against the strong grip of her fingers on the couch. “There is something that worries you.”

She shook her head, frowning, but she didn't move her hand from yours. She loved your touch, she always did.

“Is it because of the baby?” You asked with a soft voice, trying to forget about the discomfort of your breasts and pay attention to Lady Beneviento.

“No,” she said, making it clear that your daughter was not a problem, something that always scared you. After all, Donna was a Lord, she served Mother Miranda. She could have taken the news much worse.

“Okay, so something is happening, right?” You said, controlling that soft tone of your voice. “Oh, damn...” You complained, when you noticed that the fabric of your dress becoming damp.

Donna stared right at that point and her mouth opened. Her breathing became labored, giving her away even more.

“I just remembered that I have to do something in the workshop and...” Donna said hurriedly, trying to get up from the couch, which you prevented with a strong tug on her wrist.

“Be still, Donna, we're talking,” you said with a more severe tone. Luckily, she gave in, plopping down on the couch and moving away from you. “Hey, I really want to help you. Tell me what's wrong.”

“There's nothing wrong with me,” she said, defensively, looking for any place to look that wasn't your cleavage.

“Of course, surely not. Donna, please, you barely talk to me since the baby was born. Tell me, what have I done wrong?” You asked, this time with a sadder tone due to the helplessness you felt.

“You haven't done anything wrong, (Y/N), the... The problem is mine,” she said, her head down, her sweaty hands playing with themselves.

“Yours? Come on, don't talk nonsense. There's nothing wrong with you, darling,” you sighed, reaching out to caress her cheek, which was burning with embarrassment.

“You're wrong. There is something wrong with me,” the lady in black acknowledged, with a trembling voice and a marked accent that told you that she was being honest, and it embarrassed her.

“Okay, okay. But if you don't tell me, I won't be able to help you,” you whispered, getting a little closer, grunting from the discomfort with which your breasts were torturing you. “It's because of that night, right?”

Donna opened her one eye wide, but didn't respond. You smiled triumphantly inside, having managed to find the problem. The truth is that it was a coincidence. It was one of the possibilities that were in your mind.

“Hey, Donna, come on, it's okay. I didn't get angry about that,” you said to reassure her, something you had learned to do over time, luckily. “The truth is that surprised me, I barely touched you and…”

“Shut up,” she interrupted you, eaten away by shyness and shame. “Don't remind me that.”

“Well, I'm sorry,” you apologized, keeping her cold gaze. “It was probably my fault. I haven't paid much attention to your needs since the baby was born.”

“It's not your fault, (Y/N), I'm telling you that the problem is mine,” Donna corrected you through clenched teeth, looking away again.

You rolled your eyes with a tired sigh. It certainly wasn't the best day to deal with her problems.

“Well, Donna, whatever you want,” you said, shaking your head, changing strategies. “If you don't want to tell me, don't tell me.”

She looked at you, accepting the challenge and crossing her arms with a superb gesture, letting you know that you had been right with your persuasion.

“You wouldn't understand,” she whispered in an almost inaudible tone. You raised one of your eyebrows, amused, but without letting her know that it was like that.

“Try,” you said, putting your cleavage back on, with that horrible, wet feeling that cried out for a hot bath.

“You wouldn’t understand. It's just that I... No, I can't,” the doll maker said, regretting confessing at the last moment, making the conversation even more interesting.

“I live in a village where there are werewolves, where there are feathered priestesses, huge vampires, fish men and a potential Frankenstein. I live with you, who are capable of making people hallucinate, and with your living doll. You got me pregnant Donna. Do you really think something can surprise me?”

“It's not the same, okay?” She protested, stamping her feet on the floor and looking at you again, accidentally fixing her eyes on your cleavage, which made her tremble even more.

“Donna...” You sighed frustratedly, unable to get inside her mind. Normally it wasn't that complicated. Whatever it was, it embarrassed her terribly. “It's hot as hell and my breasts are about to explode. I don't have time right now to deal with you. I'm going to take a bath and then, if you feel like it, we'll continue talking.”

“Your... Your breasts,” Donna stammered, looking at that area again, making you look too, embarrassed by the obvious wetness in them.

“The baby hasn’t eaten too much, I told you,” you said annoyed, getting up, ready to abandon that absurd conversation.

“Wait,” she said, interrupting your path. You turned around with your hands on your hips. “That, that night I…”

You moved a little closer, seeing some reciprocity in her attitude. You nodded for her to continue.

“When, when I touched you... There...” She stammered, pointing to your cleavage. “I, I did it because… I, I liked it.”

“Do you like my breasts? Well, that's something I already know, darling,” you said in a seductive voice, sitting back down on the couch. She closed her eye and shook her head. Her body was shaking like a flan, but you still didn't understand what she meant.

“No, you don't understand... I... I did it because you... Because you stained me with your...” Donna stammered, in a tone so low that you had to lean in to hear her properly.

The revelation fell on your shoulders like a cold shower, leaving you perplexed and with an amused smile. Yes, something else happened that night, something you overlooked. You began to understand why she was so embarrassed.

“Wait, Donna, are you telling me you liked my…?” You asked gently, making her look at you and then nod briefly. “Oh, so that was it…”

“I'm sorry. I know… I know it's weird and that you're probably thinking about leaving me right now and...” She said apologetically, letting a tear run down her cheek.

You cupped her face in your hands, with a tender look, shaking your head.

“Oh, honey, how can you think I'm going to leave you?” You asked, kissing her slowly on the lips, relieved that this problem wasn't that big of a deal, at all.

“It's gross, I know,” she whispered, taking your hand and looking at you shyly. “I'm ashamed that something like that turns me on.”

“It turns you on,” you repeated curiously, running a hand along your cleavage, suppressing a moan from caressing that sensitive area.

Donna nodded again, following your hand with her gaze.

“Just seeing you right now I'm... I'm so...” She said agitatedly, putting a hand between her legs, surely hiding her erection as best she could. You smiled when you realized.

“I see,” you whispered in her ear, briefly kissing her neck. “Don't worry, Donna, I don't think it's gross. It’s not gross.”

“You don't think it is? But it's weird and...” The lady in black said, surprised by your words and your unexpected caresses, which gently touched the black fabric of her dress.

“Shh, no, it’s not weird, honey,” you whispered again, putting a finger between her lips. “In fact, it's quite... Interesting.”

“Interesting?” She asked curiously, with a blush still occupying her face.

You nodded, biting your lip and leaning back on the couch.

“Tell me, darling... My beautiful Donna... Would you like to do it?” You asked seductively, removing your dress from your shoulders and leaving your sensitive breasts free under her attentive gaze.

“I don't... I'm not sure,” she said, with a shy smile, squeezing her hand tighter between her legs. You laughed, amused, when you saw the little things she needed to get overly excited.

“Hey, don't be afraid now, honey... Did I tell you that the baby hasn’t eaten too much? I have so much more for you…” You whispered, making her laugh nervously, shaking her head.

“No, don't say that... You make it look dirty,” she protested, leaning over you, you sensed that it was involuntary.

“No, Donna, it's not something dirty,” you said, to get her fears out of her head. It may not have been something you thought about, but the idea of ​​having her... On your chest, sounded more and more exciting in your head, and between your legs. “Come on, come here, honey… Let me take care of you.”

Donna nodded, dazed by the pleasure of your body while you picked her up in your arms, kissing her tenderly, understandingly, making her feel comfortable in something that she thought was very uncomfortable for you.

“Please, don't judge me for this,” she begged already on your chest, caressing your sensitive areas while you caressed her face, her hair, making her feel comfortable.

“Shh, calm down, my sweet Donna... I told you I would take care of you,” you whispered to reassure her, while she planted tender kisses around your sensitive breasts, causing you to moan at the sensation.

You noticed her breathing on your skin, her nervousness at seeing one of her darkest desires fulfilled. The sensation was better than you thought, and your hips began to move when you felt her so close, when you felt how she got lost in your skin.

“Don't be afraid, do it... I need it, Donna, I need you to help me,” you said softly, guiding her head to where you needed that relief. Well, that wasn't a lie, it was good for you to get rid of that excess that your body had. If it made Donna happy, you both won.

She nodded, still taking a nervous breath as her lips rested delicately around one of your nipples, making you gasp at the overwhelming sensation. Her tongue caressed you for a moment before sucking, just a little, delicately and softly, knowing how sensitive you were.

Donna moaned into your skin when she felt the hot liquid leave your body, when she felt it in her mouth, when she could taste the food you made. You closed your eyes because of the relief and peace you were feeling, without leaving aside your caresses on her hair, on her head, taking care of her just as she wanted.

“Do you like it, darling?” You asked with a tender voice, making her stop for a moment, looking into your eyes and nodding before returning to your breast impatiently.

You moaned again when you noticed the sensation, when you noticed how she absorbed you in a sweet way, without rushing, without hurting you. There was nothing strange or disturbing about it. She enjoyed it, and you enjoyed it. It was an erotic and romantic moment at the same time.

Her tongue soothed your nipple as she continued sucking it slowly, filling her mouth with your warm milk, enjoying that bitter taste, your taste. Her body trembled as the movements of her mouth worked on your breast. She wasn't lying. It turned her on in a way you had never seen before.

Your hand caressed her, comforted her in that act of love and pleasure. Her head was held by your hand, positioning it where it needed to be, bringing a huge dose of affection to her actions, making her feel protected in your arms.

Donna pulled away for a moment. The sight of her corner impregnated with that white liquid made you shudder with pleasure.

“Do you want more?” You asked, to which she nodded, with her restless expression, with the obvious discomfort that she had between her legs while she made a wish that embarrassed her come true. “Okay, honey, come here…”

Carefully, you moved her head towards your other breast, one that still needed her skilled mouth to generate relief. Her hips moved incessantly while she sucked with that affection that was unique to her. No, she didn't see it as something dirty, even if she said so. For her it was an act of love, an act that went beyond words or a simple afternoon full of hugs.

The hot liquid that came out of you was pure ambrosia to her, moaning every time she got it, closing her eyes and enjoying your soft caresses, caresses that encouraged her to continue, to you to keep feeding her.

“(Y/N)...” Donna said, looking down at you, caressing your chest before continuing. You nodded understandingly as you put her head back where it needed to be, where you needed to be soothed. “Please, can I touch myself?”

That question sent an electric current through your entire body while with your hands you indicated that she should continue with her work, that she should continue absorbing in that delicate and romantic way. You wanted to feel your heat in her mouth, her moans against your skin.

“No, honey,” you said softly, making her growl in frustration, slightly enjoying her desperation. “I told you that I would take care of you.”

Positioning her body in a more comfortable way, your hand traveled down it, until you pulled her trembling erection out of the black dress. She was certainly enjoying it.

With a soft laugh, and cradling her body with your other hand, you embraced her length lovingly, caressing the tip, glistening with desire, and moving up and down as she moaned against your skin, as she continued relieving your pressure.

It wasn't long before you noticed how heat reached your hand after a nervous gasp, causing her to stop absorbing and hold you tightly, enjoying the surge of pleasure from her release. You smiled satisfied, leaning and kissing her lovingly, noticing the taste of your milk on her lips, something that made you shudder with pleasure again.

You were silent for a moment. Donna hugged your body, embarrassed by what had happened, but at the same time exhausted by the pleasure she felt. It was a different experience, but an interesting one, of course.

“I must seem like a weirdo to you,” she whispered, without leaving your body.

“No, Donna, you're not...” You said, calming her embarrassment with your kisses. “I love you”

“I love you”

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Happy WTF Friday everyone?! YIKES ON BIKES. That sure was an episode.

Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this week. You can find previous rec lists here. As previously I'm here for henren and all buddie/bucktommy/buddietommy configurations...and apparently this week, all of heroic_pants' Buck and/or Eddie with Josh fic?!

Bring on the drama. *eyes next week's potential list like...welp*

10 May 2024

a mouth full of teeth and nothing to sing by @cal-daisies-and-briars A HEN CENTRIC FIC!!!!! I'm living. Post 07x03, Hen struggles to process the cruise ship rescue and drunk driver call in the midst of ongoing tension with her friends. In which Hen gets the apologies she deserves and gets to vent her frustrations, whilst also self examining her own actions. Fantastic crunchy characterisation.

time will tell by @bekkachaos '5 times Hen and Karen suspect Buck might not be one hundred percent straight, and 1 time they realise they were so damn right. aka., Henren knows and they occasionally speculate about Buck, and Eddie, and now, Tommy.' For everyone absolutely thriving over that reaction in 7x06.

Better Late Than Never by @pop-me soft semi-somnophilic sapphic henren married vibes which I ADORED. Pillow princess Karen, as she deserves. A gorgeous little slice of life domestic scene that was truly so loving and sexy, loved it.

and my heart and my hat by Anonymous (who are you mysterious author, I love your Tommy voice SO MUCH!) This was such a great Tommy POV from 7x03-7x04, charting his feelings from the moment Chim calls him to ask for his help with the cruise ship search, through to the kiss. I really enjoyed the whole ensemble camaraderie of this fic, Tommy's perspective on Hen, as well as the lovely moments where we see all the ways Buck just being Buck is charming to Tommy. So enjoyable.

raspberry. by @buckttommy good lord...hot!!!!! Buck, Tommy, a gay club, a handsome stranger, exhibitionism and some exploratory D/S vibes. This was just *fans self* super sensuous and unabashedly queer, I loved it.

And if you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew by @pantsaretherealheroes In which 'Eddie wakes up the morning after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding with a hangover, and unexpected bed-mate, has a panic attack and a hell of a realisation. Josh makes coffee. They talk.' This is ultimately a buddie fic, but with some glorious supportive Josh along the way, with just the right amount of cattiness too. I just really loved this dynamic and odd couple vibe.

are we still friends? can we be friends? by @pantsaretherealheroes ok how about that, but instead Buck and Josh genuinely have a casual dating set up and all sorts of fun together, mutually agreeing to keep each other in the loop if it stops being what they want. Meanwhile Eddie is PINING, and Maddie is feeling some kind of way about it all. I just really enjoyed the maturity of the dating within these parameters, and the complicated feelings along the way.

treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate by @bucktheally this is the fourth part in an bucktommy alternative meeting bright as the morning, soft as the rain series in which Tommy was never part of the 118, but can also be read standalone. Look this instalment of the fic got me totally enchanted the moment that Buck set himself up with his laptop 'intent on Wikipedia’ing himself into the queer community in-between naps.' Perfect characterisation. No notes. The fic is sexy, sweet, and I love the development of their relationship set up from this initial premise. Buck just loves to learn!

Won't Be Long Before I Belong by @justaswampdemon a post madney wedding coda fic in which Buck accidentally comes out via soot and Tommy meets everyone. Sweet, tender, gentle and caring.

PS - once again sending out the signal to ask if you have any henren authors/fic recs I should check out PLEASE let me know! I love them!

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Like Real People Do

Halsin x F! Tav

18+ hurt/comfort, tenderness, implied trauma, oral (f!), face riding, fingering (f!), pants cumming (m!), a little shadowheart love at the end. as a treat!

Since fleeing the vampire lord's grasp Tav is settling into a peace she has not known for years. And finds she has a large welcome guest in her perfect exile...

Part 1, Part 2

-

Laying on her back in the grass she felt... happy. Content. A rediscovered feeling since her escape from his grip. The first gusts of night air tickling her face.

The Selune outpost had become her sanctuary, though she was still hesitant about worship. Seen too many messy gods in the flesh to put her faith in them, killed a few too.

In the weeks she had been there she had gotten stronger, her figure filling back out some. Her face a little less haunted. Even her laugh regaining its power. The life slowly dripping back into her.

Even getting closer to the worshippers, all of them recognizing her and waving hello. Of course they still didn't know who she was, her appearance quite different from the days of defending The Gate, and honestly it worked in her favor.

Of course Shadowheart had been with her every step of the way. Holding her on nights she woke shaking. Encouraged her to eat, bringing her the best fruit, a bowl filled to the brim with stew. Cheered her on as she managed her first few pull-ups in years on a tree outside.

Sitting up to breathe in the heady scent of the orchard, she heard a thud behind her. Turning to see warm hazel eyes filled to the brim with adoration, pack dropped in the grass.

"Tav!" Halsin exclaimed, rushing to her. Scooping her up so easily around her thighs. Holding her up high, close to the heavens.

His face split in a joyful smile as he spun her in a circle.

"Easy!" She laughed, his joy infectious. "You're going to make me dizzy!" As if she wasn't already, her heart lit up like a firework.

A few new scars peppered his face, but he still looked good. Really good.

"Your hair!" Tav marveled, taking a lock in her fingers. "It's long!"

Reaching below his clavicle, the chestnut tresses still deftly braided here and there.

"As is yours!" He smiled, gently pulling her long braid over her shoulder. "Impressive!"

She tried to hide the slight discomfort in her eyes. Her hair still something she hadn't processed yet.

"I'm sorry Tav," Seeing the strain in her face he released her braid, the end swinging back down to the base of her spine. His arm still holding aloft. All soft love in his eyes. "I've been so excited to see you I've forgotten myself."

She knew that he knew there was more to her discomfort, but appreciated the out.

"Oak Father preserve me, you are so beautiful. Memories didnt do you justice." One hand cupping her cheek, arm still supporting her around her thighs.

"Oh Gods, you're already going to make me cry." Tav laughed truthfully, biting her lip. "And you're going to have to put me down eventually."

"Allow me some more, please." He laughed, releasing her far down enough that she could wrap her legs around his middle. "My journey has been long and I've been nearly mad with the thought of drinking you in again."

Gods she missed the deep rumble of his voice, a bow pulled across cello strings. Sending tingles down the back of her skull.

She naturally rested her head on his chest, sighing contently. So warm.

"Please take me inside Halsin."

Laying back in a hot bath she melted under his touch. Strong hands massaging her scalp. The air heavy with lavender, rosemary.

It was almost overwhelming, being showered with so much care. After so long of being nothing but a prized posession to feel so loved was nearly too much.

Aware that she was softly crying again Tav chastised herself. Just be here, be with him.

"Would you like me to stop?" Halsin asked gently, hands slowing.

"No, you're perfect." She sighed, closing her eyes again. "I'm just... not used to this anymore. Being treated so well."

He cupped the back of her head, coming around to look in her eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not physically." She winced slightly, not entirely truthful. Flashes of pale hands. Rough. Taking. "I was looked after. Oh he had endless servants to cater to me but there was only possession there, not care. Not love. I couldn't go anywhere without his approval." She laughed coldly. "Couldn't even decide what I wore. I was a glorified doll. One that he would fuck on the side. Just a thing to be paraded around. To do with as he pleases." She blinked, all of it pouring venomous from her.

"Is this...?" He trailed off, lifting her hair from the back of the tub.

"Yes," She sighed bitterly. "He liked it long."

He circled back behind her, braiding it in strong sure strokes. Kissing each tip of her ears.

She leaned back, suddenly so tired again. Would she ever be truly free of him? Would he haunt her body forever?

A sound of cutting jolted her eyes open. A weight pulling away from her head.

She turned as Halsin held a length of braid in his hand. Nearly a meter of it. The remaining falling gently onto the backs of her shoulder blades.

"Halsin!" She gasped, wide eyed.

"He cannot have you anymore." He said, voice barely above a snarl. Eyes glowing gold faintly.

She stared at him in shock.

Rising out of the tub she held both sides of his face roughly and caught his mouth in hers.

His hand gripping her hip, other tangled in her newly free hair he kissed back with restraint. A low growl reverberating from his chest.

Looping her arms around his neck she stood to go to him. He hooked under her thighs and lifted her out easily, not breaking their hold on eachother.

"Oh I'm getting you all wet." She blushed.

"Small price to pay." He chuckled, laying her down on the bed. Pulling the damp tunic off his wide shoulders.

She looked up at him, a thrill in her chest. Gods she had forgotten that he looked like that.

Tav was not a small person, tall, usually quite curvy and muscular. Filling out her clothes in several ways. Though the dark years had thinned her out significantly she was still not a waifish little thing.

But beside him? She was dwarfed. Still a whole head taller than her and twice as wide.

Crawling down to her he trailed warm up to her neck. Mouth devotional on the soft flesh.

She moaned softly, head falling back. Hands wrapping around his shoulders. Spreading her legs to make room for him between.

His calloused hands explored gently, around her hips, her waist. Up the outer side of her thigh. The touch lighting her up, leaving trails of need on her skin.

He was all slow, savoring. The pace making an ache in her pelvis. Driving her mad.

A soft growl in the back of his throat as she scratched lightly at his scalp. Saw his eyes pull closed. A shiver going down his back.

"Is this okay?" She asked softly. Is it okay that I'm broken goods? That I cant love you like you deserve?

"More than okay. Tav you bless me just being in my presence." He smiled, coming up to look in her eyes. Hand cradling the back of her head. "I'm the luckiest man in Faerun to share a bed with you."

She blinked at him, his sweet words so genuine they stung. Wanted to rip herself into pieces and rearrange them into a person who was better at this.

"Careful with the tender words, I'm all sharp edges now." She tried to joke, swallowed at the lump in her throat.

"I dont scare that easily. You are not too much for me." Leaned in to kiss her reassurance. "On Silvanus I swear it."

She melted into his kiss, eyes closing wet before the tears could escape.

"Please touch me Halsin." She urged against him, moving his wide hand to her breast.

He rumbled his approval, moving his warm mouth to her throat. Kissing, pulling, biting. The soft flesh of her neck his domain.

Calloused fingers brushing against her peaks, making her hips squirm. Back and forth across the pads of his fingers.

The teasing touch making her throb, hips arching up into his. His hard length greeting her seeking.

She felt him shiver again, taking her wrists and pushing them in an arc above her head. Snaring them down in one hand.

His free hand pushing down her front, their eyes meeting as he pressed fingers against her hard mound.

She groaned, eyelids lowering but never leaving his.

"Tell me what you want Tav." He urged lowly, fingers swirling slow sure circles. "Where you need me."

She paused. So long since she had been considered. What did she want?

"Put me on my stomach." She whispered. Shocked at her own words, how sure they tumbled out.

He hooked under her hips and easily flipped her, her shocked giggle eliciting a smile from him.

"Hips up." She grinned into the sheets. She felt comfortable, safe with him. A lightness in her chest under the waves of lust.

His arm pulling up on her hips, gripping her ass briefly. Groaning at the soft round flesh pushing between his fingers.

"Go down on me, please." She hushed. Being so direct making her blush.

"Oh yes," He rumbled, clearly more than pleased to fulfill her request.

His mouth met her cunt, licking hot stripes up her center. She choked out a moan. Hands gripping the sheets under her.

His tongue moving in flat dragging strokes, briefly pushing down into her entrance as he passed it.

Her hips already quaking, toes curling. "Ugh, that's so good." She groaned. Pushing back into his mouth.

He rumbled his pleasure deep in his throat, the reverberations against her making her shudder.

Licking tear drop around her clit, coming down to suckle it into his mouth, tongue pulsing.

She almost collapsed, seeing stars. A near indignant whimper leaving her lips.

He was suddenly gone from her and she looked down, dazed.

He had flipped onto his back, long hair splayed halo around him. Jaw coated in her wetness, his eyes flashed up to hers. Pulling encouragement on her thighs towards his parted lips. Pupils slitted, glowing bright gold.

She needed no further prompting, her thighs releasing to his strong hands.

His mouth pulling her in again, now fully devoted to her clit. Suckling and licking hard and insistent. Hand coming up to push inside her above him. Only two but already filling her to the brim, pulsing hooked fingers.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, the arousal in her pelvis so full it ached. Both his tongue and fingers almost too much. Her hips moving in time with his worship.

She thought she would go mad, a mewling mess. All decorum gone as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Lewd begging moans muffled into the sheets her face was buried in.

He groaned hard into her, the deep sound unfairly pushing her to near edge.

"Fuck, I'm almost-" She warned, the ache pushing into itself, her limbs hot.

As if the his snarl of approval wasnt enough, his hand snapping down on her ass was overkill. The crack of it on the air joining the indecent sounds of his hungry mouth.

She pulled her arms into her body, white knuckled around the sheets, her orgasm hitting her in great violent jolts. Ripping through her, taloned and merciless. She screamed out muffled incoherent pleas into the mattress. His tongue laving up the cum that pushed thick out of her, clearly pleased with his reward, sighing hungrily into her.

Her body tremored rhythmically to his motions, little gasps leaving her in time.

He slid up over her, cradling her back to his wide chest. "Come here to me." He rumbled, pulling her to fall back onto his chest. Laying them down together.

She fell dumb into him, limbs puddled. Still trying to catch her breath. Eyelids fluttering.

"You didnt," She started weakly, gasped words catching. "We didn't get to you..."

He chuckled warmly, vibrating against her back. "No need, I already did."

She blinked, shocked. Focusing found it to be true, a wetness in his trousers.

"Oh," She marveled. Just her pleasure enough to send him over. Bit back a little proud smile.

"Oak Father sustain me, I dont know how I didn't wild shape." He admonished, gently pulling her hair behind her hair.

Her hair. She took a lock in her fingers, staring down at it.

"Tav I'm sorry I did that without consulting you." He sighed, gentle regret pulling in his deep tone.

"No," She stared, awestruck. "No I love it." Craning her neck to look up at him. "I'll think of you when I see it now. Thank you."

His eyes shone with tears, cupping her face. "You honor me." Pushing a soft kiss into her hairline.

"Hey, no crying." She whispered. Turning to press her head into his chest, letting her weight onto him. His hand threading into hers, secure. "Only I get to be a mess, okay?"

He laughed, his heart steady against her ear. A tranquil drum. Pulling her down, her eyes heavy.

"Can you stay? I dont want to be alone tonight." She whispered, eyes closing. Already drifting. Barely hearing his answer.

"I would want for nothing more, my heart."

Standing quiet at the base of a great tree, Shadowheart slid her hand into hers. Both staring down at the mound of small dirt. The night air chirping with insect song.

"I'll admit it," Shadowheart sighed, defeated. "I dont know what rites to speak at a hair funeral."

Tav smiled, squeezing her hand.

"Here we stand to honor the death of Luscious Locks..." Tav started, tone dour.

"Gone but not forgotten." Shadowheart nodded. "They will be released to the great comb in the sky."

Tav laughed. Knocking her head gently into her silver hair.

Great hands sliding over her waist. "Have I missed the reading of the will?"

She leaned back into him smiling, sighed softly at his all encompassing warmth. "Bad news, you didnt inherit anything. Sorry big guy."

He chuckled, planting a quick kiss on the crown of her head.

"You sure we cant talk you into staying another night?" Shadowheart offered, smiling warmly at him.

"Ah dont tempt me, I've already been selfish staying so long. They need me back home, someone's got to read the children their bedtime stories."

"You'll never hear the end of it, I'm sure." Tav teased, turning to hug him tightly. Burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you." She murmured. "For coming, for being here."

"Oh my heart, knowing you are safe here with us again. That will sustain me for quite some time. I'd love for you to visit some day, if you'd allow me some more of your company." His arms around her so steady and perfect she didn't know if she'd have the strength to pull away. She nodded into him.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked low, hand cupping her cheek.

"Mmm okay, just one for the road." She smiled, standing up on toes.

"Of course." He smiled, lips sliding against hers. All smothered fire and longing. A deep hum in his chest.

Pulling away too soon he rested his forehead against hers. Staring deep into her. His love pouring in.

Leaning back with a sigh.

"And you," He boomed, grabbing the back of Shadowheart's neck and planting a strong kiss on her forehead. "Take care of yourself! Of eachother, nothing is more precious."

Shadowheart squeaked, blushing. Tav throwing her a cheeky smile.

Hitching his pack up his shoulders he trailed one more kiss on her knuckles and turned to leave. Waving goodbye good naturedly at the worshippers pretending not to eavesdrop from their windows.

Shadowheart tutted her disapproval, eyes squinting judgment. "So nosy, all of them."

Tav smiled, watching him leave fondly. Turning back to her. "Oh let them have their fun. It can get awful boring around here."

She mock scoffed, hand to chest. "Oh is watching me pray for hours not stimulating enough for you? I'm hurt."

"Well the view is never bad." Tav shrugged, giggling as Shadowheart's hand shot out to pinch her side.

Tav darted around, her agile arms nearly catching her.

"No!" Shadowheart shrieked, laughing loudly. Running down the small ravine, Tav giving chase.

She laughed, breathless. Watching her silver hair bob in front of her. Catching her around the waist in a patch of undergrowth. Both tumbling laughing into the soft ground. Limbs tangled.

Tav kissed her softly, hand cradling her cheek. Shadowheart's gentle moan licking against her lips.

"I think," Tav started, pulling away. "I think I'm happy again." A soft wonder in her voice.

Shadowheart smiled up at her, eyes bright with tears. "And you even got a free haircut."

Tav laughed. "Actually, I think I want to shave the side." She mused, smoothing fingers along her temple. Gaze sliding to her green eyes, mischievous. "Wanna help?"

"Oh yes." Shadowheart's eyes alight, devilish.

"But first. Tell me everything."

~

Part 4

[lunar-years]

hi! love your blog. I was wondering if you have any fic recs? I’m especially looking for royjamiekeely but I’m flexible :) thank you!!

Hi! I have read a lot of the R/J/K tag, and gosh, there is seriously so much incredible stuff in there. It sort of depends on what kind of vibe you're going for, but here are a few* to get you started.

Note: many of these are rated M or E, so please check the actual warnings and ratings and summaries before reading :)

Start with author inlovewithnight and literally just read everything they've ever written, it is all completely brilliant and there is something for all tastes. My personal favorites are the blood in my mouth, I wish it was mine and they threw me a whirlwind and I spat back the sea, but do be aware those are definitely darker/heavier fics and heed the tags!!! (the first has quite bit of noncon [not between RJK] and the second involves physical abuse initiated by James Sr.). For a lighter option I recommend Follow the Hearts and You Can't Go Wrong which is a lovely future R/J/K fic about the end of Jamie's career

from there move along to @valonia47 (Ao3) and @belmottetower (Ao3) and Mixtape Star (Ao3) and also read everything they've written :) I wanted to single out favorites for you but how could I when it's all so very good?

our bodies touch and the angels cry by lennynards: R/J/K that starts out with Roy & Jamie having to stay within 10 feet of each other at all times after both accidentally drinking a weird tea Jane brewed up for Beard. Yes it sounds like a completely ridiculous premise but it is one of my favorite RJK fics ever, 12/10

In Colour series by lyricl: this one feels so very true to canon and it just gets them all so right, I don't know how else to describe it. It's not a complete series though and nobody has actually gotten together as of yet, fyi. They're all far too busy having a lot of complex (& horny) feelings about each other from afar.

This might be a long shot that's not quite what you're looking for but, For Now series by Wild Wren. It's actually mostly a Roy/Keeley series, and I started reading it on a whim because I literally ran out of new things to read in the R/J/K and Jamie tags at one point, lol. Then it ended up being some of my favorite fanfic of all time. It's Roy/Keeley but like, in a not normative and also very kinky way that does a great deep dive into their respective ~issues~. Also Wild Wren had them break up even before the show had them break up, and in a much better and far more detailed way, just saying!! Part 4 is pre-ot3 in the messiest possible way. What a brilliant series, I cannot recommend it enough.

Outgrow the shoes of expectations by @destinationtoast : Brilliant on the ot3 side of it and even better on the character study of each individual within the ot3. Sooo so good. I think about it all the time.

another box with a question mark by irishmizzy: going to be completely honest when I say I don't fully remember this one, but I do know it was very funny and excellent and it is also rated T which makes it different from a lot of the others on my list, so i wanted to include!! It is in my bookmarks and I'm going to be rereading it asap now :)

something that's so close by @ohlafraise : s3 outtake that is very funny and perfect and lovely and also happens to be rated T :) also check out one night upon the shore by the same author. It's Jamie/Keeley, but don't worry Roy's there in spirit. You'll see. That one is very much not T though, lol

by any other name by renecdote: Jamie accidentally wears a Kent jersey instead of his own jersey on the pitch and the internet thinks they're dating (spoiler: they are dating). Who cares if it's not realistic because it's so hilarious and wonderful, amen.

Oh Lord, You've Never Been so in Love by asexual-fandom-queen. I literally just read this one, it's hot off the presses and it is so sexy and tender and also just gets these three so very right. the perfect anecdote to the end of s3.

Anddd of course I have to self promo a little and recommend you Waterfalls (between seasons 1&2 canon divergence), The Full Picture (s3: Jamie attempting to parent-trap RoyKeeley while avoiding his feelings for both of them) and my new one Confetti (ot3 fluff where they celebrate Phoebe's favorite holidays)

*I said I'd give a few and then proceeded to be really long about it, but like, what else is new? For that reason I've tried to stick to strictly R/J/K fics, but if you'd like Roy/Jamie or gen fic/Jamie fic recs also let me know because I could totally make a whole separate post about those, lol.

[landwriter]

Heya, I love your writing and taste in things.

I’ve finished (and loved) everything you’ve posted <3

Are there any sandman fics that have tickled your fancy lately?

Thank you so much!!! I sadly do not have time to read near as much Sandman fic as I'd like, but I have scoured both my memory and my bookmarks on AO3 (all twelve of them) and dug up some absolutely wonderful stories - hope at least one or two of these is new to you?!

I am probably a bit weird in this, but I don't bookmark fics I love (which is really nearly all I've read) insamuch as fics that have done something in particular that I think is so well-executed or clever or inspiring that I want to be able to study it like a creature in its own right. Usually these are stories that have the traits I admire most in fiction: economy of language, being very fucking funny, making me viscerally uncomfortable, or outright haunting me.

I loved reading all of them but your mileage may vary! Caveat lector like more than half of these are smut and/or violent so please check the tags against your own preferences. Several long-winded recs with excerpts and explanations under the cut:

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The Birthday of the Beast | @slythernim | Dream/Hob | T | 3.3K

Father Almighty, though I have long not been your servant, I remain your unmanageable son. Here on Earth, closer to Hell than to Heaven, as I celebrate perhaps the least holy of holy days, I must imagine myself like unto Lucifer more than as Michael, that he and I might together make of the darkness a place for humanity to grow. He blows out the candles. 

Hob turns 666. Extremely fun fic by Nym that features incredible characterization within a very short space, Catholicism, Lucifer, and of course, gets a very special birthday gift. But you shall have to read the fic to see what it is. Read everything of Nym's, actually.

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New Mistakes | Anonymous | Dream/Corinthian | M | 3.2K

Dream slid his thumb into the Corinthian’s mouth, the one he shared with most, the one with which he commonly spoke. “Well?” he asked. “Are you fed?” The voice that came from his left-eye mouth buzzed like locusts. My lord, we are. The voice that came from his right-eye mouth dripped like honey. My lord, we can always be fed more. Dream pulled back, looking at the Corinthian expectantly. The Corinthian swallowed, running his tongue along his teeth. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, and Dream was unaccountably flattered. “My lord,” he said. “I wish to be good.”

Have read almost no Corintheus but this fic hits on so much that I find distantly intriguing about the pairing. Perfect dialogue, gorgeous rhythm. Wonderfully visceral. Absolutely bonkers nuts for repetition in threes, as I'm sure you know, and I love how it was used here.

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Lucy Locket | Anonymous | Dream/Hob and Dream/Hob/Corinthian | E | 17K

Five chapters (now with a new threesome added in late April, much to my delighted surprise!) of just fantastic roleplay smut that in-between all the sex is by turns incredibly funny and tender. Alternating Dream and Hob POV. As somebody for whom sexual roleplay has been my literal bread and butter on a professional basis, it shouldn't be surprising I am so fond of this fic - but it catches me out every time! Like a blow from behind, and I am winded. It is ridiculously hot and distressingly perfect all-through, and I would absolutely marry the author about it (sorry author if you're reading this). No excerpt because I cannot choose and will simply suggest that if you're up for kink that you go read it all at once.

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Public | @softest-punk | Dream/Hob | E | 1.1K

"Oh, darling," Hob murmurs, fingering the edge of Dream's delicate lace knickers. Dream feels his smirk against his jaw, bites his lip at the brush of a kiss under his ear. "You forget how old I am. I learned to fuck with an audience."

Every day I get closer and closer to needing to write Dream and/or Hob with vulvas; this may have been the fic that sealed the deal for me, I think. Ridiculously hot, and enshrined in my head forever for the line above. I learned to fuck with an audience. God! How good. A masterclass in the slutty drabble that nevertheless retains peak Dream/Hob characterization (I would argue that sex is in fact one of the best narrative vehicles for characterization and exploration of interpersonal dynamics...this bias is probably why nearly all these recs are so horny.) One day I will learn how to write proper smut in media res like this and not preface it with gratuitous plot.

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worship like a dog | @thewalrus-said | Dream/Hob | E | 2.5K

“Is it so inconceivable that I might love you?” Dream murmured, running his manicured nail down Hob’s cheek. Hob tried to speak, swallowed, and tried again. “No one ever has before,” he said. “No one but God.”

Hob is a priest. Dream is a demon, except he's not. Dizzyingly hot for so many reasons, with a delightful canon dialogue echo. And again, must stress this: Hob is a priest. Hob is a priest. Hob is a priest, go read it.

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Safehouse | Anonymous | Hob/Corinthian | E | 5K

“I need a room. One without a door.”

The best execution of the sex pollen trope I've ever seen, with the worst men. Very, very good fic with a brilliant premise and unerring execution. World-building is done in such brief but vivid strokes - it feels like a 50K fic whenever I remember it, and I'm always surprised how short it actually is. Haunts me in the best of ways.

---

As well - these fics are well-known and well-loved - but some stories that are utterly wonderful and contain lines that haunt me weeks, sometimes months later - stories that rearranged my soul, lurched me closer towards writing for Sandman, and warrant mention even though I am SURE you have read them, include:

@moorishflower's iconic and beautiful Odyssey fic, maybe sprout wings was the first fic I commented on with my AO3 account, and among the best fics I've ever read in any fandom; slightly deeper cuts from Heather's oeuvre (if, for some reason you are not reading everything already) that I am obsessed with and have reread multiple times: vowel shift, most vain devices, an act of faith. Genius stuff and unbelievably gorgeous language. Just go read it all, honestly

@softest-punk's Shelter is one of the first Sandman fics I ever read, and is beyond lovely; if you have not read their entire deep and profoundly lovely back catalogue, I recommend Catching Up (quintessential Cecil deep tissue emotional massage), Delayed (or: my favourite kink and favourite Endless); Ferrous (vampires! bad men! ahh! ooh!); and I would of course be remiss and ungrateful to not mention self-abandon, and the confounding effects thereof, a 10K fic that perfectly answered my general question of how the three lads would actually get together once the Corinthian and Hob had started fucking (as narrative foils that deserve such treats)

@xx-vergil-xx's Hounds is an ongoing epic that has singlehandedly caused me more emotions than humanity has language for; it is ambitious in scope and sticks every landing. The world is alive and lovingly-detailed. The language is a poem. It is so smart, so beautiful, and so well-researched and built. It is a TEMPLE unto itself, and appropriately worthy of worship

I will also suggest you read absolutely everything by @that-banhus because she literally cannot miss and writes the loveliest, cleverest worlds. All of it.

[sunjaesol]

now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

zutara | outsider pov (aang) | post-southern raiders | one shot |

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Aang didn't know when it all changed. Which, frankly, wasn't entirely his fault. As the Avatar, his attention was and should be centered towards mastering his bending and, consequently, defeating the Fire Lord. The latter with quiet dismay, but nonetheless: he didn't have time for distractions… even when he loved them so.

But he hadn't seen Katara and Zuko coming. Not one bit.

He intrinsically knew Katara hated him up until their mission to avenge her mother — something he still felt sick to his stomach thinking about — and saw her forgiving him on the docks. It all happened right under his nose! And yet!

One moment he performed hot squats and built elaborate sand castles with Toph, the next he turned around the corner of the Fire Lord's Beach house and found the two sitting cross-legged opposite of another. Zuko held a plant between his fingers as he spoke. Katara inspected it critically, her eyes flicking between the herb and the boy with tender patience.

It knocked Aang off balance.

On the one hand, his altruistic side, he was happy the two benders finally got along. They were a team — Team Avatar, as Sokka would proclaim — and they needed to be a strong unit if they wanted to have a chance at ending the war. Aang knew that.

But on the other hand… since when did Katara voluntarily spend time with Zuko. Wouldn't she want to spend time with him? Aang deserved some of her allotted time, right?

Tentatively stepping closer, the two looked up from their conversation and Katara smiled first. “Zukoʼs been teaching me about herbs native to the Fire Nation.” She plucked the herb from Zukoʼs fingers. “This is saffron, you should smell it!”

“I'm good,” Aang weakly countered. “Uh… I'm gonna find Sokka. D'you know where he is?”

“The city,” Zuko responded. He looked totally unbothered by it all, a stark contrast to Aang's current frenzied spirit. “He and Suki are trying to find the perfect mango, or something.”

“Suki and him,” Katara corrected. A gleam in her eye pushed her to rib— “What, don't tell me the education system of the Fire Nation is lacking as well?”

A tick of a smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah, maybe. Too busy with shoving propaganda down our throats, I think.”

Katara laughed. Aang frowned. Zuko was many things, but a comedian wasn't one of them; it wasn't even a joke to begin with. Pushing the bitterness down his throat as though sucking on a frozen frog, he left the two behind and jogged down to the beach to sit with Toph. He'd wait for Sokka there.

The next instances took a few subtle cues for him to catch it. During dinner, they sat next to each other. While he sparred with Toph beneath the burning afternoon sun, they sought solace under the cool awning washing dishes or scrubbing clothes clean. Whenever Zuko dared anyone to a game of Pai Cho, Katara offered herself almost immediately despite her terrible track record. When an argument angered Katara to the point of storming away, Sokka's eyes organically slid to Zuko, waiting for him to make a move.

He'd never done that to Aang, that look, and it made him feel so incredibly, awfully juvenile.

What skills did Zuko possess that Aang didn't? He knew Katara way longer than he did, understood her better, and had seen her in more situations than he could count. Zuko just got here. Though Aang was fond of him, it left an ire sting travelling up and down his spine. Spirits! What was going on?!

Then the play threw all his worst fears on stage: Zuko and Katara, personified by the Ember Island Players, holding hands and proclaiming their love and totally disregarding the fact that Aang and Katara had history and chemistry and that he loved her! Their mocking of the term "Avatar's girl" made his stomach churn, so much so that he didn't notice the real (and mortified) Zuko and Katara shifting inches away from each other.

Had he seen, maybe he wouldn't have tried to kiss her during intermission. Maybe he wouldn't have felt the desperate need to prove himself to the girl; that he was right here and actively loving her and why was she so confused about it?

Had he seen, maybe he wouldn't have pushed the two towards each other later that even. While he sulked in the corner of the living room, sprawled across a recliner as he listened to Toph gloat about her character, Zuko and Katara had slipped away. Unbeknownst to him, though his heart quickened and clenched (something akin heartache) when he did realise.

Jumping upright, he ignored Toph's shout that he should sit and listen, and turned into the dark corridor that held their bedrooms.

Knocking on Katara's, no sound came. His head popped around the corner of the sliding door and saw the room was empty. Her bed tidy, her clothes folded on a chair, no litter on the floor — a complete 180 to Aang's room.

Oh, no. His eyes widened in horror. Behind his eyelids, the vision of the Players struck closer to reality than he thought. Taking a steadying breath, he trailed to the end of the hallway and, against better judgment, pressed his ear to the door.

And there it was: the soft chime of Zuko's laugh, the murmur of Katara's voice.

His hand raised to knock, but before he could or flee, it smoothly slid open.

Katara looked down at him, worried. “Everything okay, Aang? I felt you standing there.”

A seed of hope bloomed in his chest. “You felt me?”

A wry smile ticked up her lips as a finger curled around a dark lock of hair. “Yeah, it's the full moon, so it's kind of hard to miss. So?”

“Y-yeah, I'm okay. I was just, uh, looking for you. To, uh…”

What was he doing here? Just a couple hours ago, Katara had rejected him and this didn't help! Zuko had the decency to look bashful, however, the boy seated on the rug with a cup of tea unable to quite look him in the eye. At least the firebender seemed aware that Katara, despite the debauchery of the Ember Island Players, was his girl, not Zuko's.

But if he was aware, that didn't explain why they sat in private. What could they possibly talk about that the group wouldn't understand?

Aside from the tea, a handful of books covered the floor. A lit candle stood on his night stand. Too romantic for his taste.

And so he blurted— “Why're you in Zuko's room?”

Her expression soured. “To talk. Do you have a problem with that?”

The boys finally locked eyes. Golden irises blinked at him, earnest and merciful, though Aang knew he had no ground right now. If he went insane over them drinking tea, then she wouldn't speak to him until the Comet.

“No,” he puffed. “No. It— when can I talk to you?”

“Tomorrow,” she replied, curt.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Aang.”

He nodded. “Goodnight Katara. Goodnight Zuko.”

As the door of opportunities slimmed, the last split second showed the resurgence of Zuko's smile, a kind he hadn't seen before, and only reserved for Katara. His Katara.

A part of him died on that threshold that night. It smelled like naivité and tasted bitter.

The next day, he apologised to Katara for kissing her and she accepted, though kept her distance.

The group didn't feel off because of it. Everything ran smoothly, as usual; Toph erupted cities out of sand and roughhoused Sokka in the mud, Suki practiced hand to hand combat in the atrium and scoured the regal bedrooms for fashion, Katara did her duties and lounged around the ocean, as did Zuko, though he preferred the courtyard for his bending. Aang was the only one feeling unmoored. At least he had Momo to commiserate with.

Despite the Comet's looming arrival, the days were long and the teenagers needed time off as well. One couldn't train from sunrise to sundown. He learned that the hard way.

Rare moments like these reminded them of their youth, so really, it wasn't weird that Katara tapped Zuko with a water whip as she cackled out her magical laugh, but it did surprise Aang. He thought that when he apologised, she'd act playful towards him again, but… she didn't.

Sokka and Toph gawked in surprise at the action, but what took the cake was Zukoʼs smile as he launched himself from the courtyard onto the beach — feet thudding hard into the sand — and began sparring with Katara on the shore.

Scratch that: he couldn't call it sparring. It was playfighting. It was what Sokka and Suki often did.

Zuko liked Katara. The realisation thundered as an earthquake through his lithe body. It was so obvious now! Why else did the firebender behave so differently towards her? But how in the monkey feathers could Katara like him back? Zuko redeemed himself, sure, and he was now part of the group, but…

Aang faltered. He couldn't come up with a reason. Zuko was a child of war just as much as they all were. Maybe even more than Aang. He technically stood at 112, as opposed to Katara's fifteen and Zuko's seventeen. That made him pause.

Was that it? Did he lack a sense of humanity that Zuko possessed? Although, the Avatar defined humanity and led by example, so shouldn't he be the perfect person?

Maybe it was a phase, Aang supposed. Just like her lapse into anger when she travelled to the Southern Raiders, this too would pass and she'd see Aang belonged with her.

But what could he do about Zuko? From experience, Aang knew it was tough to not like Katara.

Oh! But if that angry knife-throwing girl got out of prison, then Zuko would turn to her again! Genius! Another incentive to win this war.

“How cute!” Suki cooed. He hadn't noticed her coming.

Aang scowled, “They're fighting.”

“They're having fun,” Suki countered, waving at a buried-in-the-sand Sokka. Toph smacked his cheek. Then Suki smiled down at him. “You should do something relaxing, too, Aang. Savour it while you can!”

The nail in the coffin happened three weeks later when the doom of Sozin's Comet lurked around the corner. In less than five days, the Fire Lord and him had to fight to the death; a death he didn't wish upon anyone. His group was furious with him for his stance, but Aang refused to budge his entire belief system for the definite solution of killing someone.

Katara had fallen quiet then. Hope bleeding out her eyes and left to seep into the soil, no longer in her heart and chi. He knew he hurt her with this. And still. There had to be another way to defeat the Fire Lord.

Right before he went to sleep, restless and keyed up, he stopped by Katara's door. Soundless, he slid it open just a crack, only to feel his stomach gutted out his body.

Zuko and Katara: hugging.

Not the quick embrace she'd previously given him, a real hug. One where Zuko's arm wrapped around her with no space left, one where Katara clung to him as though spirit water laced his veins. Her head tucked beneath his chin, their eyes closed yet content, his hand rubbing smooth circles on her lower back.

"Monkey feathers," he exhaled.

The two didn't jump apart like he expected, nor did Zuko flush red or dodge any repercussions by fleeing out the room. Their eyes cracked open and they stayed.

“Have you changed your mind about killing my father?” Zuko rasped.

Aang shook his head, blood pounding in his ears making it difficult to hear or breathe or think. Katara liked him too… more than she liked me.

“Katara?” he whispered.

Her eyes welled with unshed, shimmering tears. Remorse thickened her voice. “I'm sorry, Aang. I can't support you on this one. I just can't.”

Before he could save any semblance of a relationship, she burrowed herself back into Zuko's tight embrace. It looked unnatural, inhumane, it should be him.

And then he vanished.

[abitohoney]

ok but imagine how sevik would act with a s/o who cries during sex🤭

Oh boy nonny. Assuming the tears are due to an overwhelming amount of pleasure and emotion, and not from unwanted physical pain, I think she'd find your tears rather delectable...

Thoughts below the cut. (NSFW, MDNI, explicit smut, dacryphilia)

The first time it happens, neither of you are quite expecting it. You're both fully aware of just how... sensitive you can be. How easily you can become emotional when it comes to any intimacy with Sevika. It just never occurred to either of you that it could show up during sex.

I imagine it happens the first time you two have sex. Maybe even the first time you've had sex with anyone for that matter. So to say it was an intense experience for you would be a severe understatement.

Sevika would probably be concerned at first. She's likely never experienced anything like this with the brothel girls. So when she catches those tears rolling down your cheeks, she'll immediately try to determine what's wrong. Has she hurt you?

But the moment you tell her you're more than fine, at least physically, that you're actually feeling indescribably good under her ministrations, love, and attention… that's going straight to Sevika's head (and between her legs). The idea that she has that strong of a psychological and physical effect on you to actually bring you to tears, that's like a fucking drug to her. She'll become an instant addict. Addicted to the tears, sobs, and whimpers she pulls out of you every time she fucks you.

Lying back against the pillows on Sevika's bed beneath her massive body, you'd swear the two of you had been at it for hours. She had worked you up slowly with tender, sensual kisses and petting. Her warm mouth and hands had covered every inch of your skin, leaving none of it untouched. Every little mewl, whimper, and whine that slipped past your lips had earned you sweet praise from the woman you were so head over heels for.

It wasn't until you were near trembling with anticipation that she finally slipped one of those delightfully thick fingers of hers into your dripping hole. But even then, she had taken her time adding one, then another, until she filled you completely. So careful and gentle, she had gradually worked you open, stopping only when you begged her to fuck you with the strap.

Arms wrapped around Sevika’s back, you desperately cling to her as she slowly slides her strap in and out at an almost deliriously sensual pace. The curve of the faux cock causes the tip to drag along that sweet spot over and over again, drawing out mewls and whimpers each time.

With her own arms wrapped around your back, she holds you close. Her soft breasts press against yours, slick with the mix of her sweat and your own. Each perfectly angled thrust brings you closer to the edge of euphoria. She brings her mouth to your ear and whispers more of that divine praise. She tells you how well you’re taking her. How absolutely beautiful you are. How good you feel against her skin. How pretty you sound. How sweet you smell. How utterly perfect you are.

That intoxicating combination of pleasure and praise leaves you completely overcome with passion. Feeling the familiar prick at the corner of your eyes, you bury your face in the crook of her neck. And when you feel her flesh fingers slip between your bodies to tease at your clit, your soft moans devolve into pathetic whines of her name- begging, pleading for lord knows what. To stop? To go faster? Control quickly depleting, several tears finally break the barrier of your tightly shut lids and stream down your hot cheeks.

“Hey, look at me,” Sevika grunts as she tries to pull back to see your face.

You hesitate, ashamed to be seen in such a weakened state. But your fear of disappointing her with the lack of obedience is greater. So, you slowly let your head fall back against the pillows and open your blurry eyes in an attempt to meet her gaze.

When she catches sight of your tear-streaked cheeks and eyes brimming with tears, her cocky smile instantly disappears, brows furrowing in concern. Her thrusts suddenly halt, pulling a choked sob of protest from your throat.

“Sevika! Please!” you sob, desperate for that pleasure to continue.

“Baby,” Sevika rasps, her strong hands suddenly holding you much more gently, “Am I hurting you?”

“No!” you choke out, shaking your head frantically. “Please Sevika! Don’t stop!”

“You’re crying. Why?” she says softly, gray eyes boring into yours, searching for an answer.

“I- I-” you struggle to answer, too overwhelmed with emotions and pleasure. Too embarrassed to admit it. And her concern is only making it worse. She’s treated you so well tonight.

“It’s just so good. Sevika you make me feel so good,” you whimper. You dig your nails into her back, trying desperately to pull her closer. To coax her to continue fucking you. God, you want to hide your face in shame. When she only stares down at you in awe, unmoving, it pushes you near the brink of hysterics. “Dear god, just please keep fucking me Sevika!”

One powerful thrust. That’s all she gives you. But it's more than enough to make you cry out in ecstasy. And as another tear falls down your burning hot cheek, you watch through clouded eyes as her expression slowly morphs from shock to unadulterated- almost sadistic even- pleasure.

She thrusts once more, thighs slapping hard against yours. But the sound is drowned out by your loud cry of pleasure. “So I’m just fucking you so good it makes you cry?” she husks.

“Fuck, yes!” you cry out.

Another snap of those powerful hips. Another pathetic whimper of pleasure.

She lowers her head, bringing her face closer to yours. She just hovers there for a moment. Her lips are curled into such a perverse smile you can see rows of white teeth.

Trembling beneath her, completely vulnerable, you watch helplessly and hopelessly as her tongue slips out from between her lips. Then she drags the tip from the bottom of your tear-stained cheek to the very top, just below your eye. The deep, sultry chuckle that pulls from her chest has your hips jerking towards her.

“Sevika,” you plead. You’re not sure how much more you can take. She’s driving you absolutely mad with desire and adoration. She’s not giving you enough, yet she’s giving you too much. Squeezing your eyes shut tight again to fight off your tears, one slips past, trailing down your other cheek. You feel her tongue trace its path, and god, you hear how that makes her groan in pleasure.

She’s absolutely reveling in your tears.

Bringing her mouth to your ear once more, she whispers, tone dripping with lust and laced with sin, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna keep fucking you real good. But you’re not gonna hide that pretty face from me. I want to savor each and every tear that streams down your cheeks as I fuck them out of you.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Burn Bright White - Chapter Six.

It's an entire chapter of smut. That's it. That's the chapter. :D Big thanks to my darlings Diana and Lindsey as ever, my tiny audience of two!

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,362

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

Even though he was much more a fan of natural tits than implants, Niklas had to admit, Taissa’s were gorgeous. Also, they still had jiggle, an absolute necessity as far as breasts went. That’s what he hated about some implants; the fact they were like rocks and didn’t move. Under the manipulation of his hands as he bit her nipples in turn, they definitely had that desired squish to them.  

Grasping her thighs, he hauled her legs over his shoulders, her feet resting upon his back as his mouth glided over her skin. Taissa expected to be kept in anticipation perhaps, the heat of his breath enfolding around her like a mist. Gladly, she was proven wrong. 

Her eyes fluttered shut at feeling him lick at her apex, a soft gasp floating from her throat, the very tip of his tongue pushing at her opening before he used it to drag a firm lick right through her folds, ending at her clit. The action made her jolt, her body keening against his mouth. 

A flush of warmth skipped over her nerve endings from those first few tentative licks, her folds bathed in the hot press of his tongue, his groan gone to rasp as he teased her a little, made her keen for it. Fuck, she was so wet. With fingers joining his mouth, he stroked at her pink while focusing tightly licked circles around her clit, his middle finger slipping inside her. When it crooked and raked, the rapid upward jerk of her hips almost broke his nose.  

“Fuck,” he grumbled, biting her thigh in retaliation. 

“I’d apologise, but that was your fault.” 

“So, I get punishment for knowing where your g spot is?” he snorted, biting her again. “That does not seem fair.” 

“All is fair in sex and war,” she purred, raking her nails across his head, watching him flick the tip of his tongue in a soft skim over her folds. 

“I notice you replace love there.” 

Her lip curled slightly. “I don’t believe in the word.” Ahh, but she would. When he manipulated her to. Or, so he thought.  

“Then we are the same.” Ahh, but she’d make him. When she manipulated him to, as was her steadfast plan. “Mmmm, such a pretty little pussy. I’m going to enjoy ruining it.” he then praised, sucking on her clit, removing his finger to close his mouth around her entirely, eating her with greed.  

He flushed a summer tempest from her, balmy and winding, tongue flicking over her clit fast and rhythmically, the little bud swollen and tender, Niklas pausing to suck on it firmly once more. Lord, he was much too good with his mouth.  

She lay there utterly floored by his talent, the dexterity of his fingers as two pushed back within her, the precision of his tongue as he took hard, sweeping licks over her bundle again and again. That air of arrogance he wore, the one that radiated his sexual self-confidence, he had every right to wear it with the pride he did, she thought, if this was what he could do to a woman with just two fingers and a tongue. Fuck.   

While his fingers began to drive hard, the lewd noises from her glistening cunt filling the room, his tongue bathed her bud in featherlight licks, driving her out of her mind, her body a host of glimmering tingles, perfect pools of pleasure melting down her spine. He had her whining and gasping, her hands clutching at his arms, each lick quickening against her, watching her tits heaving as she panted hard.  

He knew where she was heading, straight into wet heat driven bliss, her cries spilling from her mouth like wine as her nails dug in on his arms, her clit bouncing against his tongue as she came hard.   

“Fuck, fuck, yes!” she squealed, her thighs closing around his head. “Okay, alright. You did it. You ruined me.” 

His laughter was but a deep, dark chuckle, kissing her bare pubic mound. “I haven’t even started yet, Taissa.”  

Shuddering as he returned his mouth to her, she yelped with oversensitivity when he began sucking at her again, the vibrations from his rumbling laugh adding something a little more pleasurable.  Of course, he’d be a fucking demon where eating her cunt was concerned. He very much seemed to be the type to thrive on it.  

He felt her thighs flexing against the sides of his head as his tongue began to beat softly over her clit once more, gentle heat winding through her, applying more pressure the less the shook against him as her oversensitivity passed. It flushed through her core like spring rain, the pleasure pattering, until it began to pelt down once again, her muscles tightening as she cried out, falling apart against the incessance of each lick. 

Taissa expected him to emerge then, but no. He didn’t. However, he did grip her waist and roll onto his back, so she was knelt astride his head. “There, now you can ride my face. I remember you telling me that you wanted to.”  

Oh, and how she did, beginning to grind herself against his mouth, nails shredding his heavily scarred arms as he grasped her tits and pinched her nipples. 

“Are you content down there?”  

The deep, rumbling laugh of response caused a pleasant shudder to run through her, even more pleasant than how it felt to be astride his face. “Am I content? Honey, you have me soaked in one of my favourite things. Of fucking course, I am.”  

She gasped softly, the grazing prickle of his short beard over her folds almost biting, the warmth of his lips kissing her swollen clit as she dragged herself against them utterly sinful. “Not drowning you too much?”  

“You are,” he confirmed, hands moving to her ass, spanking her hard. “But don’t you dare stop.” He gave her a firm suck, pleasure trickling down her spine, pooling over his chin as she continued to grind softly against his face, the slip of his nose upon her clit making her nerves bounce.  

His tongue darted out, tasting the thick dew soaking his face, twirling through her folds before holding it firm and still, letting her ride it, her hips working in serpentine. It lit a comet of ecstasy to streak through her, warmth radiating right to her chest, Taissa reaching back to play with his cock until it was fully hard. 

“Riding your face is one thing,” she began, shifting until she was astride his hips, sinking down onto him with a shuddered sigh. “Riding this is what I want more, though.”  

He wasn’t about to stop her.  

Rolling her hips against him, she moved in a way that had him entranced, her hand reaching to grasp his jaw. Tilting his head back sharply, she eyed the target, licking a slow line up the side of his neck before biting him. The growl that action summoned from the depths of him made her walls clench around his cock, slowly sinking back and forth as she bit him again, this time on the chest, red marks added in branding to the collection of black.  

And fuck, she bit hard. That as well as the sight of her atop him, so impossibly, sensuously beautiful, she had his brain fried completely. The way she rode him only added to that, leaning to kiss him, the exchange all hunger and sin. Any kind of containment tumbled away as she fucked him into the bed hard, drawing his legs up behind her, nails dug into his thighs as she held him at the mercy of her fuck, but not for long.  

Moving out from beneath her, he was behind her quickly, hand pressing into the back of her neck and clutching tightly. “Down.” 

That singular word, delivered with an alluring air of dark dominance made something pleasant twist through her insides, lying until she was flat, pushing the round of her ass back against him. “Mm, good girl.” Fire that shot through her at hearing such gutturally delivered praise in his deep, rumbling voice, his hand holding her down while the other guided his cock against the soaking mess of her folds.   

Many inches of vein ridged, steely thickness dragged through her slit, a whimper pouring from her mouth like wine, the head of him stroking against her clit in exquisite tease. He continued that languid, stimulating stroke, stars prickling his veins, pearls of pre cum smearing against the honey of her cunt before finally, he let it bathe his shaft entirely.   

“Ahhh, fuck.” he whispered, arrowing her to the hilt, fingers clenching tightly at her neck as she cried out. His eyes fell to the divinely erotic sight of his cock sliding back and forth, watching her pink hugging him, splayed around his thickness, his hand pounding in a hard smack off her ass cheek.   

Pushing her thighs together with his knees, the hug around him tightened more with her legs pressed together, Taissa gasping into the bed linen beneath her, the friction beyond perfect. Pleasure crackled through her, a slow burn stoked by the steady slip of his cock, her eyes scrunched tightly shut as her mouth hung open in exclamation.   

And she’d thought the way he’d fucked her in the hallway had been unbeatable. 

She yearned for raw and unfettered, but oh, how every colour illuminated behind her closed eyelids as he plunged her with all-in, all-out strokes. It rose in heat, like sunshine beaming through a deep winter chill, warmth chasing frost over her nerves, her walls fluttering on him as his hand met her ass in a hard spank again.   

Incandescent tingles spread through her as he began to thrust with more purpose, hissing a groan as he dragged through the tight velvet of her cunt, golden glimmers glittering at the base of his spine. Her hips shunted back against him, her fingers moving to begin rubbing on her clit as he fucked her relentlessly, ecstasy starting to throb hot within her.   

Sharp shocks began to meld with warm, rolling bliss, her muscles tightening as she came apart with a cry, feeling his cock twitching within the snug hug of her slick plush, pulsing ribbons of cum into her with a guttural groan. Pulling out, he watched the load he’d shot in slowly trickle from her opening, his fingers stroking her spine as she dropped flat, his body falling to the side of hers. 

“I have a feeling I have not yet been sufficiently ruined,” she panted, watching him grin, the curl of his mouth almost sinister. 

“No. Not by a long way.” 

Words she was fond of hearing.  

What followed was perhaps the most amazing display of cocaine fuelled, sexual carnage either had experienced in a long while. Taissa’s dominance, as he witnessed, was extremely well-rooted, and he let her have that power over him, enjoying being hurled around by the tiny yet very strong blonde. When she relented, though, submitting to him...  

“Do you like that, hmm? Getting pounded by this big cock while they watch how much of a dirty whore you are?”  

Between the high of the line she’d recently snorted, his growled words in her ear, and the feel of his cock daggering her with sharp thrusts, she almost couldn’t form words. The fact he had his belt around her neck slowly throttling her added to it, too. 

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop!” she cried, the hand holding her leg up hitching it a little higher, pounding into her from behind so hard, her eyes watered. It hurt, but lord, it felt amazing. Knowing they were being viewed too by a small group of people in the building opposite as he fucked her, in full view of her bedroom window, acted as an acerbic accelerant to her arousal. She got off on being watched.  

Little darts of pleasure prickled through her, a hail of sharp bathed in the beauty of her swelling release, Niklas knowing she was getting close, fucking her rapid snaps of his hips, yanking the belt to clench tightly around her throat. With her air and blood supply cut off, her release exploded in a dark swell as he filled her with cum, the slackening of the leather constricting her neck sending it through like a hail of fire.  

Her body went limp in the aftermath of it, Niklas exiting the mess of her cunt with a slippery pop, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. Grasping her jaw, he turned her head, making her look at him. 

“Are you alright?” AEA had its dangers, even with a person such as him who knew how to do it well. He’d rather she wasn’t about to pass out on him.  

She beamed. “Mmm. Floating in bliss. Shhh.”  

That was good enough for him, settling beside her, giving her the time to enjoy the comedown from the high her orgasm had left her with.  

“Thank you,” she eventually said, stretching before turning onto her side, idly running her index fingernail up and down his chest. 

“You are very welcome,” he replied, winking at her. “I need to rest a while now, though. I’m an old man, I cannot fuck quite like I could when I was twenty-five.”  

She scoffed, frowning. “You are not old, Niklas.” 

“I am,” he spoke, pointing to his beard. “See this, the grey? Old.”  

“Yes, but that is so sexy,” she purred, her fingers stroking those silvery patches in his dark blonde beard, shuffling closer, nibbling his cheek with a little growl. “You have absolutely no idea what you do to me. I swear, when you first opened your apartment door to me, my pussy almost had a seizure.” 

He barked a laugh, shaking his head.  

“You don’t believe me, do you?” 

He raised his eyebrows, shrugging a little.  

“Fine,” she sighed, moving to sit astride him. “Then I will show you how sexy I think you are.”  

He looked a little pained, but still very accepting. “Little beast.” 

She showed him for sure. Until 4am, when they finally crashed, sleeping through until noon.  

[infinite-orangepeel]

Probably not actually that scandalous, but Steve loves to leave hickies on Eddie's inner thighs 😋

yes, yes, yes and vice versa! love this one <33 thx for submitting anon :)

okay so steve wants everyone to know that eddie belongs to him. its simply not enough for eddie to keep reminding him that he's literally the town 'freak' and no one's going to be flirting it up with him anyways. steve doesn't care. he leaves hickeys all over eddie's body wherever he can and at this point, eddie just lets him. bc steve's never had someone love him as much as eddie loves him and he's just so proud of the fact that he's lucky enough to call eddie his boyfriend.

when steve gives eddie head, he spends a solid half-hour just teasing him and edging him villainously slow. he runs his hands along eddie's inner thighs, grazing with a featherlight touch as he traces shapes and swirls his name with his fingertips. it makes them both whimper and moan profusely as goosebumps begin to rise over eddie's skin, nipples hardening in response. the image alone makes steve drool down his own chin like a dog in heat. panting breathlessly at the mere sight of a very horny and desperate eddie.

and ofc eddie doesn't typically beg. usually that's steve's job. but when they switch things up like this (which they do occasionally), eddie's definitely more than happy to be the one pleading for mercy. desperate to have steve's lavishing wet tongue wrapped around his length. moaning and crying out at the oversensitivity he feels from every little touch steve places on his body.

"please, please, please," eddie whines and kicks his feet out as the tension builds, "i've been good. i've been so good. just give me your mouth, stevie. need your mouth."

"not yet, baby," steve whispers as he presses the softest line of kisses down eddie's dark happy trail. licking and dragging his teeth intermittently, "need to be patient. can't spoil you yet, prove to me that you can behave."

so eddie does his best to obey. bc lord help him, if there's one thing he's determined to do--it's get steve to suck him off. he grimaces, scrunches his nose in frustration, but ultimately fails to hold back for long. accidentally bucking his hip forwards and bumping steve in the nose bc the sensation is overwhelming.

which steve obviously notices and tuts at.

"now that's just not gonna do," he says lowly and smacks the inside of eddie's thighs with an open palm, "you know better."

the fresh sting of pain feels insanely good. eddie groans and watches the pale flesh of his legs become a vibrant red under steve's hands. it's beautiful and he never gets tired of the filthy marks steve leaves behind. only wishes they could all be permanent.

"you're on my time, munson. that means i decide when and how you come. understood?"

"mmm," eddie's hardly keeping it together. he trembles and throws his head back in an attempt to combat the rising pleasure. steve's words sending a rush of blood to his swollen cock, "yes, yes i understand."

"you sure? or do i need to remind you who you belong to, baby?" steve smirks shark-like and vicious, bc they both know exactly where this is going.

"don't remember anymore. gotten too dumb with your hands all over me, 's too distracting," eddie plays into their little game, even bats his eyelashes to drive the point home, "need you to make sure i don't forget again."

and steve does just that. he sinks his sharp teeth into eddie's inner thighs; sucks bruises and lovebites alike into the tender skin. forgets about sucking eddie off for the time being, bc this is his favorite part. he loves being down here on his knees. loves getting carried away and marking eddie up in places only the two of them get to admire.

bc as much as he loves claiming eddie in all those perfect, visible spaces (his chest, his neck, his arms, his shoulders, etc.), there's something extra hot to him about eddie walking around with pretty magenta bruises lining his thighs, hidden beneath his clothes.

steve loves imagining eddie trying to sit down at work the next day or meeting a friend for coffee and not being able to quite cover up the wince of pain that comes from applying pressure to a fresh hickey. having to make an offhand excuse about being sore from a workout which--as anyone close to him knows--eddie doesn't typically do.

"fuck stevie, you're eating me alive down there. that hurts, baby," eddie threads a hand into steve's hair and grips him by the root.

"aw but honey, it hurts good, doesn't it?" steve says with mock sympathy, pretending to pout, "you want more, don't you? want everyone to know what a good slut you are for me?"

they both already know the answer, steve just wants to hear his boyfriend say it out loud in that whiny, fucked out tone of his.

"hurts so good, so fuckin good," eddie cries out and gasps, "please don't stop, could come just like this. don't even need you to blow me."

"hmm, i like the sound of that. let's see if you really are a man of your word, shall we?"

and man of his word that eddie is, he comes harder than he has in weeks within a matter of minutes. completely untouched and covered in an obscene amount of hickeys.

"you're lucky it's winter. otherwise i'd have literally no explanation for this," eddie laughs when they cuddle afterwards; with steve half-asleep on his chest, "and you can bet i'm getting you back next time."

"it's a date."

[theoryofarson]

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

I don't even need to be tagged to be horny. Let's go!

In no particular order:

Third (Theory of Love)

He's so pathetic! He cries so much! He's so rude and mean and bitchy! His shirts are so big and his shorts are so small!

In conclusion, I would treat him right - the way Khai does NOT.

Nick (Only Friends)

Speaking of PATHETIC!!!! THAT'S MY TOXIC BABYGIRL! MY CANCELLED BOYGIRLWIFESBAND! Sand really wasted an opportunity in that van. It should have been me...

Pa (Bad Buddy)

You know who's taller than you, Pa?? Me!!! The thought of being the one to make her flustered...pick her up and brush her hair back...dear lord.

Ok this list is really starting to look like I want to be the one doing all the manhandling. I promise you I am also down to be handled. Let's switch it up a bit.

Porsche (KinnPorsche)

Listen. You know I LOVE VegasPete as a ship.

But if we're talking about who *I* desire - first of all, your bitch is NOT prepared for the kinkery VegasPete get up to. Second of all, I genuinely think Apo Nattawin is one of the most objectively attractive men on this planet. Add to that Porsche's layered dip of a personality (fidgety jokester, devoted big brother, practiced fighter, willing killer, dutiful guard dog...), and I am quite sold. Give me the problematic mafia sex.

Hyeong Da Un (Blueming)

Dude. I barely even remember this show. I had to look up the character's name. But he's BAD. And he always had like...this teasing superiority toward the main character? Like he knew they would end up together and was just waiting for MC to catch up to that realization? Yeah. That...that's hot.

Ueda Minoru (Our Dining Table)

I believe this man was crafted in a lab to be as attractive to me, specifically, as possible. He looks like a bit of a delinquent, but he's a sweet and dedicated family man. He is troubled by the notion that he'll never be good enough. He's in love and afraid to say it. He's a bleach blonde with earrings and a bump in his nose and an Adam's apple that makes me want to follow the footsteps of Eve in the garden.

Mhok (Last Twilight)

Lord, there is not enough time in the world for me to say all I want to say about this man.

I just want it to be stated, on the record, that I have been well aware of Jimmy's attractiveness since Bad Buddy days. Unlike others, I never let Wai's horrendous personality distract me from his absurdly hot face, which, at the end of the day, is the important thing.

And now that we have Mhok? Literally the perfect character - rugged yet tender, clueless yet hypercompetent, jealous yet selfless - full of desire and restraint and humour and sadness in equal measure - I genuinely cannot think of what else I would ask for.

And did I mention his hot face?

Finally, to round out the list, a special triple whammy:

Neo, Miw, and Shin (3 Will Be Free)

Yes, all three. At once? Separately? I don't give a shit. For all I care, it could be me in this trunk and them looking down at me in disdain. That'd keep me going for like, a year. Just let me be in the orbit of these three ridiculously hot people and their ridiculously hot dynamic. Joss, Mild, Tay: if any subset of you is ever free, at any time at all, I am also free. At that time. Forever.

Whew!

That was really fun. Tagging: Whoever wants to do it!!!! Go. Be horny. Be free.