#in the belly of lent

[ohcaptains]

knuckle velvet

synopsis. he walks you home, then lets himself in.

pairing. logan howlett x f!reader. tags. [18+] dubious consent, vaginal penetration, female receiving oral sex, spitting. honey don't feed it, it'll come back type beat.

Some deep part of Canada, where everything was white. Snowstorms that swarmed through the sky, and the only warmth you could find came from the bottom of a bottle.

The wood floor of the sticky bar you worked in was soaked from frost covered boots – haphazardly scraped across the welcome mat, owners preoccupied with getting their first drink than keeping the place tidy.

You existed there, behind the bar that patrons lent against, like a metal cage with leering onlookers. They paid in drinks, but you took the money home as tips, your warmth stoked in a fireplace.

How you’d ended up there in that forgotten part of the world, you didn’t know.

Perhaps you’d followed a narrow path, one strung out with thorns and rubbish, but the money was okay.

When it got slow, and there wasn’t much else to do, your boss let you read a bit, too, while you sipped on your endless supply of Coca-Cola.

At the end of your shift, your teeth were fuzzy from all the sugar. 

An easy existence, but some nights, the patrons got too friendly.

They were fresh off their trucks, looking for some place warm to bury for the night, but you weren’t offering.

So, you’d peer at them, watch them make a fool of themselves as they spewed putrid words in your general direction – alcohol and lack of sleep causing the floor to sway from beneath their feet.

It was always the new boys who would try it.

Risk it all for a chance between your thighs, unaware of the hound sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a whiskey and a vendetta.

The first time he fought for you, the air had changed. Gone cloudy with the chance of a brawl – that sixth sense that all bartenders have switching on.

“Lady said no, ain’t she?” he bellowed from across the bar.

The voice thick with smoke and alcohol, you recognised him as the guy who’d been drinking whiskey all night, but he was as sober as a nun. No stumble to his step, or slur to his cadence, either.

He was built like an oak tree. You noticed when you served him. Slid him his drink and gazed at the sheer bulk of him. At the weathered, handsome age to his face, to the spray of grey in his brown hair.

His thick arms were snugly buried under a button up shirt, and you didn’t see, but rather imagined, the way his muscular legs were stuffed into jeans, and the way his size 12’s rested against the hardwood.

His eyes though, were hiding something. Milky brown concealing his curiosity – easily done with the hard panes of his face.

You imagined letting him take you home, and you thought about being friendly, before a whisper in the back of your cranium told you to back off.

Perhaps safer.

You didn’t know where this man had come from, let alone where he’d been. So, you continued to serve him drinks, and tried to ignore the quiet hum of his presence, until the hum turned to a crash.

The patron was scorned. He paused, and turned to the end of the bar, where the brown eyed stranger was waiting. “What’s it to you?” he slurred.

But the man with the whiskey wasn’t looking to him. He sipped his drink, and said, “she said no. You don’t remember your manners?”

The bar adorned an eerie quiet. Nerves sat low in your belly, heart picking up speed.   “This guy serious?” he asked you.

You went to say something, but he was already throwing words at the stranger.

“She yours or something?” “It matter?” “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” The stranger scoffed, and brought his drink to his lips, “whatever bub.”

“We got a problem?” the man uttered, stalking towards him, but his friend took him by the arm and whispered something in his ear, forcing him to deflate.

You wondered what he’d uttered. Whether there were rumours about the guy – a reputation you didn’t know about.

Brown eyes didn’t bat an eye when the man and his buddy slid out the door, cold filling the room before the door slammed shut.

The bar exhaled.

People went back to their business, and you thought about it, you really did. Thought about leaving him alone. Going back to your measly existence. Your home – the pit for all of your things.

But it didn’t win over in the end.

You topped up his drink. He took it, and glanced at you, brown eyes ringed with mystery.

“That happen often?” he uttered, voice a gruff grunt.

You put the bottle down, and looked away, thinking back to last week when you nearly fought a guy for staring for too long. You glanced back to him. “Sometimes.” “Your boss is an asshole for letting you work here alone.” “That so?” you laughed, shocked at his candour. He nodded and downed his drink, eyeing you from over the rim.

Finished, he put the glass down on the bar, and shrugged his jacket on. He got up to leave, and you felt a chasm begin to open up in your chest.

You went to say something. Anything, to make him stay. But he paused and looked over his shoulder.

His jaw was clenched when he tentatively offered, “be safe.”

When you locked up, he was waiting for you. 

It didn’t scare you. Really, it should, but when you left the bar and saw him standing there, toking on a cigar in the cold, all it did was make you pause. He stood there, gazing at you, eyes clouded by smoke. 

“You waiting for me?” you uttered, making it real, even if the light drift of snow was giving the world a dream like quality. 

He shrugged. “Just waiting.” 

You nodded, and put the bar keys in your bag, ignoring the chasm get wider. If he was going to rob the place, he’d have to get through layers of receipts and tissues to get in. But you knew the bar wasn’t what he was after. Something about his posture, the luring look in his brown eyes — curious, like he was trying to figure something out. 

You began to walk past him, but when he didn’t follow, you paused. You peered over your shoulder, and he was still looking at you. 

Taking you in. “Well,” you started, hitching your bag up your arm, “you gonna walk me home, or what?” 

He followed you in comfortable silence.

Just you, the night, and the crunch of dirt under his boots. His cigar smoke drifted by, and it wafted through your subconscious, followed by pine, and crisp scent of the snow.

He sounded like the noise of the woods — ever present in these parts. A comfort, if one had adapted to its unpredictability. When you got to your familiar walkway, you opened the gate, but he didn’t follow you through.

Instead, he stood by the entrance, watching you unlock your door like he’d just dropped you off from a date. it was when you were halfway through that he spoke up. “You work every night?”

“Yeah,” you started quickly, looking to him. “Apart from Wednesday and Sunday.” He considered you, then gave you a sharp nod, and turned to leave.

That’s how you ended up with a wolf at your door.

Every night, he was the last one left, then he silently walked you home.

Some nights, you’d find him leaning against the entrance, and he’d quietly peel away from the door and follow you. At first, he simply walked closely behind, a looming shadow, until he began walking beside you.

Then one night, you let him in.

Made him a cup of coffee to fight off all the liquor he consumed, and he sat at your kitchen table, and drank every drop.

Watched you in the low, fluorescent lighting, and you did the same. Curiously studied him. He looked different in your home. In your kitchen. Looked a little softer around the edges, even if he couldn’t relax completely.

It went like that for a while. It was on one of these nights that he gave you his name, followed by a shitty cup of coffee. Sometimes two. Maybe a biscuit, or a piece of cake. Leftovers turned into home cooked meals. Sat at the kitchen table and watched him eat. Roast beef. Mashed potatoes. Lasagna. Sipped at your cup of tea as he slopped up his pasta, using the back of his hand to wipe the sauce off his mouth.

You left him finishing off his plate to get ready for bed, and it was when you were sorting your hair out, that he came into your bedroom and began taking his boots off.

You stood at your mirror and watched him place them near your door.

Then he reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

One by one, you watched his thick fingers reach the bottom. He took it off, revealing a white tank off and broad chest, and hung the shirt up on your door frame.

Jeans next.

Popped the button and shucked them to his feet -- threw them with his boots and dragged himself towards your bed.  

You went to say something. Anything.

But he looked so exhausted as he crashed onto your frilly bed, that all you could manage was, “You lock the door?”

Logan nodded. His eyes were already closed, and he was hugging the pillow when he uttered, “you coming to bed, or what?”

You let him stay the night.

Maybe it was raining, maybe he was too tired – it didn’t matter. All that mattered, was that he was warm, and sometimes, when you woke and felt the terrifying ache of being alive, he’d be there to quiet the pain.

Hush you with the soft swell of his lips and wandering hands.

You’d come with a hushed whisper, hot and sticky over his calloused fingers -- drowsy from how high he took you. Then he’d kiss you, fix your clothes, and go back to sleep.

Always the middle of the night. When it was dark and quiet out, and it felt as if you were the last people alive.

His skilled hands bringing you to the brink, a soft kiss, then back to bed.

You would wait for it. Watch him nurse his whiskey at the end of the bar, the night dragging with every drink you poured. Then, he watched you lock up.

Waited at the door for you, so you could walk home together, wordlessly taking the familiar trail.

He’d eat, you’d watch, then leave for your room.

Once, you woke to his head between your thighs. The night was quiet, room dark – slither of moonlight from your window cutting a line through your bodies.

You were slick with sweat, and as you flexed your taunt muscles, they fizzled and singed. Hot heat pushed low in your belly, rooted between your thighs.

Logan hummed, and you reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, whimpering his name to grab his attention.

He had palm fulls of you. Fists of your thighs, soft of your belly, leaving marks with his desire – desperation. The first thing he did was apologise. Muttered a hoarse, m’sorry, into your soaking cunt, but continued tasting you.

You used his hair as leverage, and hitched your hips up an inch, causing his nose to bump into your sensitive clit, and you hissed, as if in pain, but the sound trailed off into something similar to his name, and Logan grunted, moving your hips further up so he could twist a thick finger inside.

You took all he gave.

Moaned into the pillow beside you as you rocked your hips against his face, soaking his nose and mouth. Said shit you didn’t mean, but meant all the same, and Logan got off on it.

This mysterious man who had taken over your life, grunted your name like it belonged to him. Made you come on his thick beard and puffy lips, then made you taste yourself as he kissed you.

You hugged his sweat slick frame to you, fingers scratching his scalp, mindlessly grinding against his clothed cock. You were content to just kiss him, until he dragged his fingers between your thighs again.

You startled, gasping into his hot mouth, but Logan hummed, near smiling against your lips.

“’think there’s another in there for me,” he drawled.

When he fucked you, there was so much of him that you went blind with it. Eyes half lidded, delirious as he pushed inside, making himself fit. Stuffing you full, then pulling out, just to feel it all over again.

Again and again. You moaned his name into his soaked, scarred chest. Felt yourself leave your body, so hot, so wet, that it was all sensation. Just the slap of his hips against yours, the feel of his hands on your tits, in your mouth, telling you to open wide.

He spat, and when he missed, he smeared the mess off of your chin and rubbed it into your cunt.

Made you come, then filled you with his own. Leant back, and watched it drip out of you. You were so consumed by him, that you didn’t have enough energy to feel self-conscious.

No, when he had his wild eyes on you, you reached between your thighs and stuffed it back inside.

The next evening, and he was back at the bar, waiting for you to bring him his whiskey. When you placed it in front of him, those wild eyes were on you again.

Waiting. Always waiting.

Waiting to play out your usual routine.

masterlist | ask | reblogs appreciated endlessly

[suskz]

JOCK!CHAN X NERD!FEM READER SMUT??🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

pairing: Jock!Chan x Nerd!Fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; breasts play ; clit play ; slight oral kink.

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: NO BC I actually love this idea sm 🙇🏻‍♀️ Hope you like it anon ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come over after practice?"

You adjust your glasses on your nose after sending the text and get up to change into your pajamas.

You don't expect an immediate response, but you're too bored because you have nothing to do and you can't wait for him to text back.

You receive a reply only two hours later.

"Of course, baby, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be with you."

Only half an hour passes before he's standing in front of the door of your dorm room, with dark curly hair still wet and dressed in his usual black pants and t-shirt.

Before you know it, his soft lips are on yours and without breaking apart, you usher him into the room and he closes the door.

"Your hair is still wet." you point out as if he didn't already know.

"I wanted to be with you as soon as possible." You blush slightly at his words.

"How was practice?" you ask him.

"Changbin missed all his shots today." he chuckles.

"He's too short for basketball, I've always said so." you laugh with him.

"What were you doing in the meantime?"

"I was reading a book Seungmin lent me."

That's why shortly after you're sitting on your bed with your boyfriend's head in your lap while you read aloud word after word.

His eyes are closed as he listens to your soothing voice, but at some point you stop and he opens his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks you, and when you don't answer, he raises an eyebrow and gently lowers the book with one hand to see your slightly flushed face.

The story is getting a bit... hot, "Uh... I'm not sure if I should continue..." you admit, and he immediately understands what it's about. A smirk forms on his lips as he gets up.

"No, keep reading, I want to know how it continues." He has you sit in the middle of the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his eyes on the book, without reading, "Then?"

"Uh... he- he started kissing her neck," his soft lips immediately press against the skin of your nape, leaving slow, wet kisses, "As his hands roamed all over her body." And so does he, releasing the embrace and moving his hands over your body still covered by the light pajama shirt, running his fingers over your belly and higher, grazing the outline of your breasts.

"You're not wearing a bra?" He whispers against your neck, his breath lightly tickling you.

"I'm more comfy without."

He groans almost imperceptibly, feeling your hardening nipples through the fabric of the shirt.

"Keep reading." he orders, and you do as he says.

You read quickly in your mind, trying to get to the parts where it only describes his actions. "His- his fingers play with her nipples, squeezing them between his fingers and—" you pause as a yelp escapes your lips when you feel his fingers brush against your nipples and then squeeze them in between.

Before you realise it, his strong arms lift you from where you're sitting on the bed. One arm goes under your legs, while the other holds the upper part of your body, picking you up bridal style, and gently lays you with your head on the pillow.

Sometimes you still marvel at how truly strong he is.

He then positions himself between your legs. He lifts your shirt to uncover your breasts and plays with your nipples, pinching and licking them.

"Then?" His voice is low and sensual, causing a throbbing sensation in your lower parts, where his covered cock brushes against you through his pants.

"His- his hand travels down her body—" the movement of his hand sends shivers through your body. He swiftly removes your pajama shorts, and kisses various spots on your leg as he moves up to place his head at your level, locking eyes with you.

One of his hands takes the book from your hands while the other slips under your panties, feeling your wetness with his middle and ring fingers. A gasp escapes your lips before you can control it.

"You're so wet already.” he breathes on your lips, feeling all the slick that has come out of your hole. He gathers some of your juices and uses it to glide his fingers in slow circular motions on your clit, making you sigh. "This pretty pussy's begging for attention, mhh?”

He moans with you as his fingers slide into your hole. He moves them back and forth slowly, curling them upwards to brush against that sensitive spot inside you.

His breath is heavy as yours and his pants feel tight.

His thumb rests on your clit and moves as best he can to stimulate you more.

Your faces are so close. He looks into your eyes and can't resist the urge to kiss you. It's slow and sensual, your tongues meeting and your breaths mingling.

When you break apart, a trail of saliva connects your lips. Your boyfriend removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Your panties are soon on the floor next to your pants, and your shirt follows shortly after.

"You're so gorgeous." he compliments as he admires your exposed body beneath him.

It's not the first time he's looked at your naked body, but his gaze feels heavy on you.

He notices your embarrassment and leans in on you. "I can't wait to be inside you." he whispers in your ear.

"Then don't." you urge him.

And a few seconds later, his cock is inside your tight heat, making both of you moan in unison.

Soon he begins to move. You need more time to get used to the intrusion, but the desperation of both has taken over.

Despite it not being the first time, the stretch still hurts initially. But it only takes a few slow initial thrusts for you to get used to it.

His pace quickens and becomes more steady, and one of his hands has to cover your mouth to stifle your sounds.

Your moans come out muffled against his palm, and he closes his eyes, biting back a moan, "As much as I love hearing you, we don't want to get caught, now do we?" he whispers. You nod, and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You grit your teeth and throw your head back into the pillows —as much as you can without hurting yourself because of the ponytail— trying to be as quiet as possible, but it's difficult.

Your glasses are askew on your face, and just one wrong move would be enough to cause problems for them. That's why Chan carefully takes them off and places them on the nightstand next to the bed.

It's when his cock hits a certain sensitive spot inside you hard that a cry escapes your lips, and you're too taken by surprise to hold it back.

Two fingers are shoved into your mouth to try to stifle the sounds trying to come out, "You did that on purpose so I would put my fingers in your mouth, huh? You like being fucked like this, don't you?" he whispers in your ear, licking and sucking on the lobe.

Your tongue moves upward, wanting to speak, pressing against his fingers. At your movement, he throws his head back, letting out a pitiful moan; his hips falter for a second, and his cock twitches inside you.

You close your lips around his fingers and nod instead, unable to speak.

"You feel so damn good." His head rests in the crook of your neck. "Fuck." He breathes.

The sound of skins slapping together grows louder in the room. A drop of sweat falls from his forehead, and his hands grip the sheets tightly at the sides of your head.

"Baby, I'm close." He whines, warning you.

Your legs tremble, your limbs feel like jelly.

"Me too." You reply, "Chris, please."

He brings two of his fingers to your clit, moving them quickly, but the movements are not steady, distracted by his impending climax.

"Y/n, I'm going to cum—" he urgently moans, "You have to come now." It's an order, despite the slight desperation in his voice, like you could control your orgasm.

You place your fingers over his that are still on your clit and move them together.

Your breaths are heavy and loud. Anyone passing by your room would understand what you're doing, but in the heat of the moment you don't give it much weight. The only thing on your minds is reaching your highs.

And you do; you come first and he follows right after. His well-defined muscles, built from the gym he attends with his friends, twitch gorgeously as he cums into the condom.

It takes a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath. He pulls out of you and tosses the condom into the trash bin at the end of your bed.

He joins you again in bed and looks at you, perhaps a little embarrassed, "It won’t go down..." he admits, referring to his still somehow hard dick.

You prop your body up on your elbows. Your eyes shift to look at his half-erection and then back to his eyes, with a smirk.

"Round two?"

[crushmeeren]

♡ Bakugou / Fem Reader

☠ Master List Link

♡ Summary; sucking Katsuki off while he’s wearing his hero mask as a bandanna? Yeah… sucking Katsuki off while he’s wearing his hero mask as a bandanna. Enjoy.

ヘ( ^o^)ノ＼(^_^ )

“Fucking — shitty hair will you shut the hell up for one second? Tell the other idiots I’ll be on in a minute. Impatient bastards.”

Katsuki’s tetchy snarl filters through your open bedroom door and you laugh softly to yourself. He’s definitely speaking to Kirishima on the phone in reference to the guys blowing up his messages all day long. Badgering him relentlessly to get on his Xbox and play Elden Ring.

You pad into the living room, planning on dropping down next to your boyfriend on the couch and taking part in the entertainment that is Katsuki carrying his friends on his back, but you stop short once you see him.

Now, Katsuki is always smoking hot, but there’s something different about his current appearance that’s filling you with the urge to squeeze your thighs together more than usual.

The hero’s just standing in front of the couch, hands casually resting on his hips and half heartedly paying attention to whatever anime he had playing. So you take the ample opportunity to eyeball his figure while he’s distracted.

He’s clad in his normal attire. A black tank top, black athletic shorts, black quarter length crew socks — Jesus Katsuki, do you wear anything else besides black?

Katsuki’s monochromatic fashion choices aside, nothing seems out of the ordinary. You scan him from head to toe once again and zero in with wide eyes on the hero mask that’s currently pinning his bangs from his forehead.

A jolt of something electric buzzes throughout your limbs, warmth curling in your belly and creeping up into your cheeks. You can’t even fathom why the sight is so salacious, but it’s got you stunned — worked up to an embarrassing degree.

Katsuki twists his torso first, then shifts his entire body to face you and suddenly your lips are so chapped you have to lick them.

“What is that?” You ask incredulously, pointing to the black material securing his hair. Katsuki’s shoulders instinctually hike to his ears, hackles bristling as his chin inches upwards in defiance.

“What’s what?” His lip curls slightly, fingers subconsciously lifting to trace the cloth decorating his hairline.

“Are you….wearing your hero mask as a bandanna?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but there’s a petal pink blush pouring over his cheeks. You shift your weight from foot to foot, gawking at Katsuki like he’s an exhibit on display and the blonde grumbles to himself.

“Yeah and? I lent my other ones to Ei and my hair’s gettin’ too fuckin’ long.” Katsuki crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow irritably. You gnaw at the inside of your bottom lip, a thrill racing down your spine.

Your eyes flicker all over his face and you’re hit with the same jarring sensation of awe and thoughts that this man cannot seriously be this pretty you had the very first time you laid eyes on your boyfriend.

The mask beautifully accentuates his sharp features and saliva gathers behind your teeth. You want to kiss and bite and suck on whatever skin you can get your mouth on, preferably the silky skin of the thick cock you know he’s got hiding in his briefs.

You realize you’ve been silent for too long when you notice Katsuki’s face start to twist, jaw clenching tightly and yet all you can come up with is a measly —

“Oh.”

You take a step closer then, maneuvering until you stand in front of the blonde and between your coffee table. Katsuki narrows his eyes, scarlet gaze starting to simmer as he gets visibly irked.

“The hell’s the matter with you? You got a prob — ack!” You cut off his complaint with a shove to the center of his chest. The amount of force you used to knock him down equated to child’s play, so clearly he’s not opposed to… wherever you’re planning on taking this.

In the blink of an eye you sink to the floor in between his spread legs, shamelessly glancing up at him from under your lashes. Katsuki wears a thunderstruck expression, lips parted slightly and brows shooting upwards.

“No, no problem,” you assure, smoothing your hands over his sinewy thighs, muscles jumping the closer you get to the hem of his athletic shorts.

Katsuki regains his composure faster than you would’ve liked and the blonde snorts in amusement, snatching your wrists to keep them from snaking under his shorts to grab at his cock.

“You sure bout that baby?” He taunts playfully. “Cuz you knocked me on my ass for wearing my fucking hero mask.”

You push your lower lip out, straining in his grip but ultimately unable to break free.

“No! I swear, you just..” You trail off with a sigh, gazing darting to the couch and back to his face with a flush so hot it burns the tips of your ears. “I can’t explain it but you look stupid fucking hot with your mask like that Kat.”

The arrogant smirk he sports gets even bigger and you almost regret not biting your tongue. He squeezes your wrists once before letting go, instead folding them behind his head as he reclines on the couch’s backrest, looking entirely too self satisfied.

“Yeah? So hot you wanna suck my cock?” He winks, looking downright sinful spread out in front of you but you manage to hang onto a shred of dignity and roll your eyes.

“Maybe.”

“Sure as hell looks that way. Go ahead princess, I won’t bite.”

Internally you war with the flash of annoyance his cocky attitude brings and the strengthening urge to get his dick in your mouth. Nevertheless, as soon as Katsuki hums appreciatively when your playful fingers push his tank top up to his collarbone you make up your mind.

It’s a breeze to yank off Katsuki’s shorts and briefs, letting them pool on the floor nearby. It’s effortless to leer at the way his hard flushed cock bobs free, leaky tip leaving a sticky kiss along his happy trail as it gently smacks his lower belly.

Katsuki shifts so his ass is closer to the edge of the couch and you brace your hands on his thighs, eagerly closing the distance to lick the taught skin between his balls and up up up his shaft to the rosy pink tip.

“Fuckkk,” he hisses lowly, hips chasing your mouth of their own accord. His head tilts to the ceiling and you shift forward with a hand curled around his base to steady him. You brace your free hand on his inner thigh and push his tip between the purse of your soft lips.

The satin like skin and hefty weight of his cock on your tongue is a deep satisfaction you didn’t realize you were pining for. The barely there hint of sweat and salt excites your tastebuds, and you swallow half of him in one easy glide.

Deft fingers thread through the hair at the back of your skull, pushing gingerly to encourage you further down. You allow him the freedom to guide you before resisting the pressure and dragging your lips back up along his shaft.

You bob your head steadily, tracing the underside with your tongue and your toes curl in your socks the more Katsuki loses his too cool demeanor. His moans are breathy and raspy, spilling unabashedly into the air.

You keep going and going until a few moments later sees you sucking harshly on the upstroke and it tears a yelp from Katsuki’s chest, hips jerking into the tight suction and choking you by accident.

Tears gather at your lash line and you squeeze your eyes shut to clear your blurry vision, forcing them to cascade down your cheeks and under your chin.

Katsuki starts to pant erratically, these little breaths that start out as soft gasps and end as huffs. The sound of nails scraping over fabric seems deafening when Katsuki claws at the couch with his free hand.

“Oh my god — baby that feels so fucking good,” Katsuki whines through gritted teeth, white knuckling his grip in your hair. “Fuck! Look at me princess, please, I wanna see your face when I cum.”

The words send heat flaring in a direct line to your core, clit pulsing and pussy clenching desperately around nothing.

Your eyes flash open and take in Katsuki’s expression. He’s flushed down to his nipples, gaze gone half lidded and pupils dilated wildly. Katsuki wrenches you back by your hair until only his head rests between your lips. Your scalp stings and you ponder for half a second whether you’ll have a knot there or not, but still you wait for his direction.

“M’gonna fuck that velvet throat and make myself cum, okay princess?” You flick your tongue over his slit in lieu of a response and Katsuki’s thighs tremble under your hand.

Then, he’s framing your cheeks with large calloused palms, snapping his hips frantically into your mouth and suffocating you more than a few times.

His keeps whimpering, the noise dancing in your ears and it’s a tale tell sign he’s close. You’re using every ounce of will power to keep your eyes open but your jaw aches something fierce, your knees are smarting on the floor and your lungs are burning.

Mercifully Katsuki pushes you away by the forehead and you gulp down much needed air. Katsuki fists his cock deliriously and bites his lower lip, the defined muscles of his stomach rolling and clenching as his hips lift off the couch.

“Paint my face Katsuki, c’mon,” you all but demand, voice scratchy and wrecked from getting utterly fucked.

He cries out your name, paying the most attention to the sensitive area under the crown of his head as he cums. Stripes of warm release streak your cheeks and you stick your tongue out to catch what you can. With a groan Katsuki deflates into the couch, chest heaving as he tries to recover.

Your arousal is dire, burning through your veins and saturating your panties but you try to quell it so Katsuki can catch his breath. You rise up on shaky legs, twisting to flop down next to him on the couch and coughing to clear your sore throat.

“Here, use this.” Katsuki thrusts his balled up tank top in your direction, the other arm thrown over his eyes to cover his bright blush.

“Thanks baby.” His embarrassment makes you giggle. You take the shirt and wipe as much nasty cum off your face as you can

Katsuki peaks an eye out from under his arm before lowering it completely once you finish cleaning your face. He hums, hand reaching over to tangle his fingers with yours and you notice his palm is sweaty. A sweet warmth unravels in your chest at the affectionate gesture.

You look him over and take note of his state of undress. He’s only wearing his mask now. You cover your mouth trying to stifle your snort of laughter but Katsuki just stares at you quizzically anyways.

“You going to play your game naked?” You ask with amusement. He glances down at himself and laughs roughly, standing and pulling you to your feet as he goes.

“Fuck that. I’m taking your ass to bed. Like hell if I’m not makin’ you cum now.” He grins slyly, canines poking out.

Your desire resurfaces with a vengeance and you jump forward, yanking on his hand as you lead the way to your room, telling him to hurry the fuck up. He barks out a laugh at your eagerness and follows obediently.

When he gets online later all the guys gang up on him for taking so long. Katsuki just yells over them and states with a smug tone and puffed up chest that he had something much better to do than watch them die like fucking idiots. You grin from your cozy spot beside him, leaning up to brush the edge of his mask with your finger tips and he sends you a playful wink in response.

Katsuki deliberately starts wearing his mask as a bandanna more often after that.

[dilfcho]

miscommunication

alien!choso x reader wc: 644 warnings: cho watches porn without realizing/knowing it's porn, masturbation, voyeurism?, MDNI! part one to when in need!

alien!choso who is so eager to please, sneaking into your room to watch the movies you have opened on your (technologically behind) laptop to learn how to communicate with you. what better way to learn than directly from your favorites!

alien!choso who discovers that humans have a really weird way of speaking. he watches the people on the screen, who are wearing a lot less clothing than you usually do, huff and whisper to each other as they lay oddly close on a bed. he thought you said that people on your planet wear garments to cover their body, so why is this movie saying otherwise? they’re making a sound he’s never heard before. it sounds strained and airy, but seems to be out of pleasure.

alien!choso who notices that his face is starting to feel a bit warm. was it this hot in the room when he came in? he pauses the movie and slips off the sweatshirt you gave him. he almost feels better. he would feel better if his pants didn’t feel so tight. he dips his hands below the waistbands of his sweats (also lent by you) to readjust. he shivers when his fingers wrap around himself, and his hand lingers in his pants a little longer than needed.

alien!choso who sucks in a quick breath, similar to the one of the man in the video. he reaches over to resume the video with his free hand and begins to mirror the movements of the womans hand over the mans body. slipping his waistband lower, his leaking tip slaps against his belly and it sends shivers down his spine. he glances over at the screen and attempts to mirror her actions.

alien!choso who traces the thick veins of his cock in the same way the woman traces her partners. he hisses and tightens his grip as he rubs his length, eyes screwed shut before he’s met with an image of you. his chest rises up and down as your name begins to quietly slip off his tongue. the image in his mind morphs into your hand below his waist instead of his, and a warm feeling builds in his lower belly.

alien!choso who is so caught up in his language lesson that he doesn’t hear your keys jingling at the door as you push it open and step inside your home. you slip your shoes off and look around to see that the alien you’d somehow found yourself responsible for was not on the couch or kitchen, where he’d been spending most of his time. “choso! did you see the dinner i made for you on the counter?” you called out, but received no reply.

alien!choso who was still not aware of your return, continued to whimper and whine your name into the emptiness of your bedroom as he brought himself closer. to what, he wasn’t sure, but he needed to keep going. he chased the feeling, leaning into your imaginary touch. the quiet whispering of your name became full moans, though they didn’t fall on deaf ears.

alien!choso whose hips chased his own fist, stomach clenching as his cum spurted onto his stomach and thighs, slowly dripping down onto the covers he laid on. he was still catching his breath before he realized his eyes were still closed. instead of being met with the empty room he was just in, he spotted your figure in the doorway. you stood with your mouth agape, and fingers bent like you were holding your bag, but it fell forgotten by your feet. when his eyes met yours, he mumbled your name desperately.

alien!choso who needed you to help him. to explain to him what he just did, and why he was hardening in his hand again.

-

mlist

[mochinomnoms]

I'm curious about the dreams Idia was having about the reader.

(reference to this)

nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!

It's quite silly, really. Idia was never one to yearn for the touch, closeness, the affections of a person. He was fine, being alone. It was better this way. He could cope with his games and shows, online groups and friends filling the void. Besides, why would he want to drag another person into the Shroud curse? It already took one person from him, Idia couldn't stand doing it to another as long as it was up to him. Plus, he wasn't exactly prime boyfriend, let alone husband material (perhaps he did that intentionally).

So, Idia wasn't all too worried when he first started becoming friends with you. You were kinda weird, but a friend to introverts like him! Somehow always a wallflower, but always involved in the chaos of overblots and school. But, you were conscientious of his need for space and privacy; Ortho must have said something to you about his eating habits, cause you started bringing food other than chips, soda, and ramen cups for him to eat, like actual meals. You also liked to entertain Ortho, who liked when you drew silly designs on his plating, which is always a plus in Idia's book. You were sweet, like his favorite ramune soda. Despite having abysmal skills in gaming (which he was all too happy to make fun of you for) he liked having you as his support, watching him on the sidelines and being a cute cheerleader. In exchange, Idia lent you an old gaming computer and bullied tutored you in a few of his favorite games so you could be his squishy healer in raids.

But, he was a bit worried when he started feeling something more than platonic things for you. Then, he was exceptionally concerned when, at the first day of spring, Idia started coughing hydrangeas, which he managed to secretly keep under wraps from Ortho for a few weeks. No, he was downright mortified when, during those few weeks, night after night, he started having dreams of you.

They started off innocent at first: you on his lap, head on his shoulder, as he played the latest RPG. You murmured words of encouragement, sleepily nuzzling your head into his. Another, he was in the board game club, where you cheered him on as he won a match against Azul in some luck-based game. Idia remembers giving Azul a smug smirk as you threw your arms around him and pressed kisses into his cheek. He even faintly remembers one where you simply sat with him in class, fingers lacing through his in comfort as he dealt with the anxiety of being out and about.

It wasn't until he was a week in when the dreams, infested with hydrangea bouquets always at the corner of his eye, that he knew he was utterly screwed beyond belief.

It started off sweet, at first. This time, you were with him at Styx, though you looked a few years older and were wearing a similar uniform to his mother. He was wearing the uniform as well, though it more closely resembled his father's. He was now Styx head, and you, his precious little wife. The domestic stuff was fine, it made his heart rate spike up so much that Ortho questioned if he had a nightmare while sleeping, but it was fine he could deal. You did look cute… as you smiled up at him… leaned up to kiss his cheek… and whisper in his ear…

“Idiaaa~ What if I crawled under your desk and sucked you off? Do you think you could stay quiet? You can, can't you? For me~”

It was fuzzy, when he tried to remember it, but Idia remembers the heat pooling in his belly. Your hands trailing down his chest down to his hips. Your lips following after and pressing soft, slow kisses down and down until—

Idia's flames grew into a burning, hot pink as his face is in his hands the following morning. He'd actually gone to bed at a reasonable time (to him anyway, 3 am was reasonable), and woke up with that in his head? How was he supposed to function? How was he supposed to look at you, talk with you, when the last memory he had was a dream of you sucking him off???

It progressively got worse from there. It was a weird mix of erotically domestic scenarios. You, waking up to him in bed before work, riding him as you cooed sweet words. Another of the two of you heavy petting, his hands groping your ass as you curled your body into his, making out in his office before Idia had to run off to a meeting, leaving you pouting and telling him to, “Hurry back to your needy little wifey~” One of you cooking him breakfast in one of his shirts, before he bent you over the kitchen counter, after which you sat on his lap and hand fed him.

The last one that really freaked him out, which led to him further isolating himself until Ortho dragged him out to the nurse, was one where he woke up to you next to him in bed. You smiled the sweetest smile to him, whispering to Idia how much you loved him, moving over to press a trail of kisses from his lips, to his neck, down his chest and abdomen. Idia was anticipating the same follow-up from his first dream, especially as your hands reached to pull his briefs down before a soft whine, followed by a cry, interrupted you.

He had no clue what to think, as you make a surprised noise, smiling at him, as the following words left your mouth: “The baby's awake, guess we'll have to continue this later, huh?” Dream Idia giggled along with you as the two of you shared a kiss, watching as you rolled off the bed to the bassinet that he was just noticing. He watched as you cooed and murmured soft words to the small, blue-flamed haired baby, reaching their tiny hands for you. But it was the next sentence that bolted him from sleep into a dry sweat:

“Say good morning! Say, 'good morning' to your baba, my darling~”

Idia let out a screech as he flailed out of bed, tangled in his sheets. He was coughing up a storm of hydrangeas when Ortho flew in, panicked and already full of concern for Idia's health. It was then Ortho started insisting that Idia visit the infirmary, much to his chargin.

At least you'd never see him like this… right?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

❥𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || Stanford Pines ||

Request:

It started out like any other normal night, minus the fact you were heavily pregnant. Ford swore he knew the exact date and time when your water would break even going as far to have some bags packed and ready.

So when your water broke during the middle of the night needless to say it came as a surprise to the man.

"My calculations must be off." Ford muttered as he tapped at his watch.

"Ford! Hospital ! Now!" You gritted your teeth, body hunched over, hand on your belly.

"Ah right away dear!" Ford gave you a weak smile as his arms wrapped around your waist as he guided you out to the car. "We'll get you to the hospital on time."

A cry tore from your lips, your nails digging into the seat. "Ford...you need to pull over and call an ambulance...I can't"

Ford parted his lipa, his hands tightening on the wheel as he looked at you then the road ahead of himself.

Maybe if he went faster then he might make, though hearing your pained cry he couldn't help but flinch hating that you were in pain. Fumbling with the phone, Ford did his best to stay calm as he pulled off on the side of the road.

He could do this, you were the love of his life, you were having his children.

He could do this.

Ford could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks as he held two of the squirming new borns in his arms. His heart leaping in his throat as the paramedic instructed you to push one last time and with that his little girl was born.

The paramedic's closing the door to the ambulance, driving off to the hospital with you, Ford and the triplets.

"I'm already failing as a father, I could have gotten you four killed...I should have gotten it better I mist have missed-."

"Ford." Giving him a tired smile, you placed your hand on his cheek. "You did a wonderful job, you were by my side...that's all that matters."

Giving you a watery smile, Ford lent over kissing your head then turned his attention to the new borns.

"I love you...I love you all so much...thank you...thank you for giving me a family." Ford whispered. "Thank you for choosing me, for loving me."

Smiling, your thumb caressed his cheek brushing away a stray tear. "I love you too Ford...more than anything."

[azzibuckets]

anything you want [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: fluffy blurb based off this moment last year when paige dressed azzi in her entire outfit at the sza concert then lent her her jacket

a/n: dedicated to @clairosrealwife for messaging me on 4 different places asking for a new fic like the overbearing annoying ass she is

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

“Yikes.”

Paige, Jana, and Aaliyah peered through the doorway of Azzi’s room, all exchanging glances at the sight before them. Azzi was slumped on the floor, face down in a pile of clothes while shirts and sweaters were strewn all over her bed, furniture, and closet.

They’d been eating snacks in the kitchen before muffed groans had pierced the peaceful silence of the dorm. Azzi had been in a mood all day, and no one on the team dared to bother her when she was pissed off. But it was becoming hard to enjoy their Lays when Azzi was huffing and storming around in the other room, so they made a mutual agreement to approach the girl together by having strength in numbers.

“Azzarae,” Aaliyah said gently, always having a soft spot for her younger roommate. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find anything cute to wear for the concert,” Azzi groaned. “This is literally the worst day of my life. I failed my exam in accounting this morning and then I got a smoothie to console myself but then I fucking spilled the entire thing-,”

Paige glared at her teammates as they slowly started to creep away from the door. “Your girlfriend, your problem,” Aaliyah mouthed before she and Jana took off, giggling as they returned back to their snacks.

Fatties, Paige thought bitterly to herself before entering the room and shutting the door. “You know the entire team is scared of you whenever you’re mad?”

A small smirk slid its way onto Azzi’s face. “I know. They leave me alone for once. I get peace and quiet.”

Paige rolled her eyes fondly. She grabbed Azzi’s hand and folded it between hers, rubbing soothing circles across Azzi’s palm with her thumbs. “I got some new shit in the mail a few days ago. Come over and try them on?”

Azzi nodded gratefully. On their way out, Aaliyah and Jana were still laughing like hyenas, fingers flying across their screens as they texted the group chat about how they’d left Paige to her own devices. But as soon as Azzi sent them a withering stare, they both immediately shut up. “You’re such a pussy,” Jana whispered to Aaliyah. “You’re literally older than her.” Without looking up from her phone, Aaliyah jabbed Jana in the stomach.

Azzi made herself comfortable on Paige’s bed as the older girl started rummaging through some boxes in her closet. “Here.” Paige tossed a pile of plastic wrapped packages at Azzi.

Azzi’s hands hovered over the clothes. “You sure? You haven’t even gotten the chance to wear them yourself yet.”

Paige leaned down and pressed a kiss to Azzi’s neck, letting her lips linger on the sensitive pulse point that she knew made Azzi shudder. “Stop being so unselfish all the time,” she murmured, “or I’m gonna start making out with you and we’ll never make it to the concert.”

A rosy blush fell over Azzi’s cheeks. “That doesn’t sound half bad,” she admitted, tucking an unruly strand of blonde hair behind her girlfriend’s ear.

Paige playfully bit down on Azzi’s shoulder, earning a squeal from the dark haired girl. Smirking, she drew back and punched Azzi’s shoulder. “Try the clothes on, dumbass.”

“A full Supreme outfit outfit? Really?” Azzi wrinkled her nose in the mirror as she experimented with her shirt, tucking it in and scrunching up one side to see what would look best.

“It’s gonna be cold.” Paige tossed her a puffer vest. “This would go nice with the sweats.”

Azzi shrugged on the puffer vest. Tilting her head thoughtfully in the mirror, she rolled her shirt up to above her belly button, making it look like a cropped top. “Much better.”

“You tryna make people faint?” Paige complained, eyes glued to the shiny piercing on Azzi’s stomach.

Azzi grinned, hand gesturing across her body. “You like it?”

“You know I think you look good in everything.” Paige approached Azzi from behind, hands sneakily sliding under the vest to make contact with Azzi’s bare abdomen. Paige savored the way Azzi’s muscles contracted at her touch. “But you look better in this than I would, trust.” She nestled her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, her gaze meeting brown doe eyes in the mirror. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Azzi turned and planted a kiss on Paige’s cheek. “Wanna match? You can wear your other Supreme shirt?” She smiled at Paige, that goddamn smile reserved solely for the person she loved most in the world, and Paige had seen that smile and that dimple almost every day for six years now, but she swore her knees still went weak at the sight.

Paige’s thumb brushed the expanse of Azzi’s skin, dipping just below the waistline of her pants in a slow circle. “Anything you want.”

*********

“You know I can walk just fine by myself?”

Paige’s hands ghosted Azzi’s waist for the hundredth time that night. “I know.”

Thankful that Paige was behind her and couldn’t see her face, Azzi smiled. She would never admit it, but she loved whenever Paige got unnecessarily protective whenever they were in public, guiding her through crowds with a hand firmly planted on the small of her back. Their relationship was private to the point where they could never kiss or show affection in front of other people, but this was one subtle way Paige reminded Azzi of how much she loved her, and Azzi appreciated it.

“You’re shivering.” Azzi hadn’t even noticed how cold she was until Paige pointed it out, but suddenly she could feel the late night chill in her bones despite the body heat radiating from the crowd pressed against them.

“I’m fine,” Azzi brushed her off. “I’ll go buy a hot chocolate or something later.”

“You’re gonna get sick,” Paige murmured, hand reaching out to steady Azzi as she zipped up her girlfriend’s puffer.

“Can you guys stop being cute for once?” Aubrey grumbled from behind them.

Both of them ignored her.

When she noticed how Azzi was still trying to rub her hands together for warmth, Paige immediately took off her jacket and pushed it into Azzi’s hands.

“No,” Azzi insisted, trying to give the jacket back. “You’re literally in only a shirt Paige.”

“Well, I’m not cold at all,” Paige said stubbornly, refusing to accept the jacket. “Are you forgetting I grew up in Minnesota?”

“I’m not cold anymore,” Azzi lied.

Paige cocked an eyebrow. “So your lips aren’t trembling?”

Sighing in defeat, Azzi hesitated before slipping on the black coat over her puffer. Paige smirked, adjusting the collar so that it sat comfortably on Azzi’s shoulders. “Better?” she asked softly.

Azzi nodded, glancing around before bringing Paige’s hand to her mouth and pressing a fleeting kiss to her knuckles. “If you start getting cold I’m taking this jacket off,” she warned.

“I’m actually pretty warm,” Paige said breezily. “But I wouldn’t mind some extra body heat, if you know what I mean,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

Azzi rolled her eyes, biting back a smile as she huddled closer to her girlfriend, pressing her entire body against the blonde’s. Her fingers fumbled around before finding Paige’s hand and tangling them together.

“See? Perfect.”

[falloffrost]

But IMAGINE …

Abby coming home from patrol, sweat running down her face from the effects of summer coming around. Your body draped across the couch as you did your best to stay awake and greet her. She walks over to you, seeing that you were reading a book she’d lent to you for your birthday, her hands running over the cover.

“Couldn’t stay awake for me YN?” She ask quietly, blowing air into your face to see if that would wake you. You open your eyes, reaching out in front of you to pull her into a hug. Abby watches the tight tank top that hugs your body just right, sliding up your torso. The skin of your stomach causing her mind to stir. Maybe she just liked you.

“Are you still tired?” She asks softly, lifting you up off the couch slowly. You wrap yourself around her body, she carries you into her bedroom that you basically assigned yourself too as well. Laying you down slowly while she places sweet kisses to your neck and jaw. “I can do all the work YN, you can just sit and look pretty.” She says barely above a whisper into your ear, making a shiver go down your spine as you squeeze your legs together.

“Okay.”

Her hands on your belly to keep you down as she penetrates you with her fingers. Her big arm wrapped around you thigh to keep your legs open as you whine and Grind against her face. She licks and spits against your clit, her thumb pressing down against the nub causing you to arch your back into her mouth. “Feel good yeah? Just wanna put you back to sleep f’me.” She says softly, keeping eye contact with you as you sit up to watch her.

Her fingers plunging into you just right, curling to hit that spot that only she could reach with her big thick fingers. Her eyes never leaving you, your legs shaking around her face, your hands gripping that pretty braid she lets you take your time helping her do every morning. Your eyes low as you throw your head back, feeling the knot in your stomach coming undone.

“Gonna cum? Yeah? Cum for me sweetheart, I wanna taste you.” She talks you through it, still plunging her fingers into you as you fall over the edge. “Been thinking about you all day, c’mon.” She bites her lip, watching as your mouth hangs open while you coat her fingers in your essence. She slows her fingers down, kissing your cheek softly as you catch your breath. She leans down to lick it all up, not wanting to leave a drop of you behind.

“Okay pretty baby, let’s get some sleep.” She says as she caresses your face, your body falling limp next her as you fall asleep half naked and in her embrace.

an: early morning story cause I got time. 💃

@sorrowsblogworld @sorrowsideas

[mushiwrites]

Marathon

Monkey D. Luffy x GN!Reader

NSFW 🔞

Luffy’s stamina on any given day was already leagues away from that of a normal person. Honestly, the same could be said for any member of the Straw Hats, but Luffy was just something else entirely. Put him in a room with a full belly, you, and nothing to fight and you just might have to actually kick him off to get a break.

Which is how you ended up here, pinned beneath your captain’s warm slick body. Sheets damp with sweat, fluids from the both of you, and the growing humidity in the small space. He’d been fucking you at this same consistent pace for hours now, having emptied himself into you twice already yet showing no signs of stopping. Your legs hooked over his hips while he fucked you into the mattress, hips following a steady tempo while he buried his face in the damp skin of your chest. The pace he set and maintained was maddening, just fast enough to keep you on the edge but not quite enough to push you over. Luckily your loving captain lent a hand in breaking that tension, yet never once broke that damned pace. A rubber machine.

“You feel so good,” Luffy’s lips mumbled into the skin of your neck, that maddening push and pull of his hips stealing any verbal response you may have had. “Jus’ wanna stay here forever, so warm…” He trailed off to reach down and suck yet another dark bruise into the soft skin below your collarbone. One of your hands carded through Luffy’s sweat-soaked hair, gripping a fistful at the back and ripping a groan from his chest. Your other hand wound it’s way around his throat, not squeezing but settling firmly. You felt more than heard the breath catch in his throat as you pulled him up to meet your eye. His blown out eyes met yours and your lips brushed as you shifted your hands to cup both sides of his face.

“Fill me up Captain,” You swear you saw actual hearts in Luffy’s eyes as his resolve finally, finally broke. Somehow his cock felt harder inside you, and he shifted your legs into the crooks of his elbows as his hips swung harder to meet yours. Your cries were muffled by Luffy’s mouth, a kiss that could hardly be more than filthy tongue fucking stole the breath and sounds right from your throat.

“Fuuuuck,” Luffy ripped away from your mouth to sink his teeth into your shoulder. “Fuck you’re so good, so good for me, can you take it? Can you take one more? You’re so perfect, one more for your captain?” He was babbling now, hot breath on your ear as he lets your legs free to reach one arm under your back to grab the back of your neck and the other loops around your hips to hold you in place. “Please?” The plea in his voice brought your eyes back to his. Luffy’s gaze was locked on your face, desperate to really let go but still waiting for your permission. You buried your hands in his hair again and pulled him closed once more, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Yes my good boy, give me everything.”

The permission he was waiting for, the pet name earned you his strongest thrust yet. Eye contact was broken as both of you lost yourselves in the feeling of Luffy letting go. Strong, deep thrusts that echoed around the room brought you to the edge once more embarrassingly quickly and tossed you right off, coming from Luffy’s desperate fucking alone. The moment your body locked up with your peak, Luffy choked out his own and emptied into you. Your powerful captain, reduced to a whimpering mess gasping into your neck as he twitched out his third orgasm of the night.

The room was quiet aside from the both of you panting to catch your breath and a few lingering whimpers from Luffy. You both were in desperate need of a bath, but Luffy was busy trying to climb under your skin and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop him (you’d need bones for that anyway and you think you might know how the Gum-Gum fruit feels now). Eventually Luffy settled down on top of you, still inside you, with his nose pressed firmly into the soft spot behind your jaw and his arms wrapped tightly around you too many times. The small porthole across the room blazed with midday light, too small to do more than tell you a nap can’t hurt and that the wind was still absent. You lifted your arms around Luffy’s back, one settling in his hair and the other across his lower back. Soft snores puffed across your throat as the warm body of your captain lulled you to join him in sleep.

Surely someone would come knocking if either of you were needed.

[zablife]

The Shirt

Author's Note: Still obsessing over Cillian's wardrobe. Can you blame me? 🤭 This fic is 🔞

You ushered in the delivery with a small wave of your hand. You were preoccupied by your phone call and barely paying attention as Cillian's stylist dropped off a few outfits for his upcoming press tour. "Thank you," you mouthed before returning to your call.

As soon as you were finished with your own work for the day, you slipped downstairs to unzip the garment bags, eager to learn what he would be wearing. Cillian's stylist always chose the most flattering garments. Her recent decision to outfit him with a gold chain was a particularly inspired moment. You had approved of it instantly.

You threw open the bag with a flourish, gasping at the sight of a sheer, black shirt and a dark suit. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, unable to stop yourself from dragging your fingertips across the delicate fabric. As you did, a wicked idea came to you.

—————————————————————

“Y/n” Cillian called as he entered the house. “Baby where are you?” he pondered, finding the downstairs empty.

“Up here,” you called, biting your lip with anticipation. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you listened to his heavy footsteps on the stairs. In a moment he would open the bedroom door and find you like this. Your brain buzzed with excitement at the thought of it.

Cillian's hand wrapped around the door as he pushed it open and his face said everything he couldn't. His jaw dropped as he caught sight of you in a black thong and sheer black shirt, breasts bare to him through the thin material. A lamp lent a soft glow to your curves and he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip slowly and hungrily.

Your hands skimmed your body suggestively as you asked, "Do you like it?" You teased him, pinching your nipples and feeling them harden to stiff peaks beneath the black veil of the shirt. His eye drifted as you did so, feeling his trousers grow tight at the sight of your breasts straining against the fabric.

Without answering he strode toward you and brought your body close to him, feeling the softness of your tits pushed against him. Capturing your lips in a messy, open mouthed kiss, he hummed in obvious satisfaction. Hands traveling from the back of your head and south to your ass, he squeezed the flesh in his palms as a primal grunt escaped his throat.

You giggled against his lips at the reaction you'd been hoping for. "So you do like it," you whispered into his ear.

Picking you up and tossing you onto the bed, he climbed over you. Hovering above you with lust blown pupils he asked, "Want me to show you?"

You nodded as he carefully unbuttoned your shirt, kissing along your sternum as he went and pulling an erect nipple into his mouth to suck it harshly. You gasped at the sensation, a sharp cry escaping your lips as he bit down suddenly.

“Show me,” you urged, reaching for his zipper and freeing his thick cock from the confines of his trousers. Stroking him with one hand, the opposite hand caressed his face. Rubbing a thumb over his sensitive tip, you heard him hiss at the contact and smiled up at him with glee.

It only took a moment for him to rip your underwear away and sink his hard length into you. You sighed with the contented feeling of being filled and he brushed his nose against yours gently. It belied the powerful thrust that came next and your back arched off the bed in surprise. You cried out with pleasure as he pistoned into you, too overcome with lust to control himself.

"Yes, there," you cried out as he changed angle, thrusting against your g-spot. Your hips pushed up to meet his, the squelching sound of your wetness giving you away. You would cum soon like this.

“M close,” he huffed, warm breath ghosting over the side of your neck.

“M-me too,” you stuttered, feeling the coil in your lower belly snap. Your warm walls clamped around him in a vice like grip as you reached your high. A shiver of pleasure ripped through you as the aftershocks continued and Cillian filled you with his sticky warmth.

Rolling off you to catch his breath, he ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair. “Is that a new shirt?” he panted. “Fucking love it,” he mumbled as he leaned over to kiss you.

A girlish laugh bubbled up from your chest as you shyly admitted, “It’s your new shirt, love. Your stylist dropped it off today.” You looked away guiltily as he considered your reply. Then a hearty chuckle erupted, breaking the silence in the room as he asked, “And who on earth wants to see me in that?”

“I want to see it!” you exclaimed, barely containing your excitement. You reached over to pull the garment from your side, eyebrow arching at him mischievously. “Try it on!” you implored, tossing it at him. A wicked grin tugged at your lips as you added, “And I’ll show my appreciation.”

He didn’t hesitate, taking the shirt from you and rushing toward the en suite. It would have to be dry cleaned before his premiere, but you smirked to yourself as you imagined all the fangirls who would obsess over it on the red carpet, wishing they could have him in their beds. You kicked your feet gleefully as you thought of the fact that you were the only woman who would see it up close…and on the bedroom floor.

[caesarflickermans]

Why Plutarch Heavensbee is the likely protagonist of Sunrise on the Reaping

Plutarch embodies SOTR’s propaganda theme

“With ‘Sunrise on the Reaping,’ I was inspired by David Hume’s idea of implicit submission and, in his words, ‘the easiness with which the many are governed by the few,’” Collins said in a statement. “The story also lent itself to a deeper dive into the use of propaganda and the power of those who control the narrative. The question ‘Real or not real?’ seems more pressing to me every day.” (AP)

Plutarch’s character embodies the themes of propaganda and controlling the narrative. He understands that it is “moves and counter-moves” (CF, 32:20). In his foil against Snow, he laid out a plan to destroy Katniss’ image through overexposure on TV, thus employing propaganda to control the image of a growing rebellion he secretly wanted to foster (CF, 32:35).

This understanding is in line with David Hume’s first principles of government, where he states that “the governors have nothing to support them but opinion” (Hume, Of the First Principles of Government). Plutarch understands this, as his plan of rebellion is based on influencing the opinion through the images shown to the TV audience.

His expertise continues in Mockingjay, where he lays out his plan in the shape of “propos--which is short for 'propaganda spots'--featuring [Katniss], and broadcast them to the entire population of Panem” (MJ, 3). Katniss recognises him as the mastermind behind the production, and sees a resemblance between these actions and his role as the Head Gamemaker (MJ, 8). At the end of the war, Plutarch’s expertise grants him the role as secretary of communications, in line with his previously gathered experience (MJ, 27).

When Hume speaks of “the implicit submission, with which men resign their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers” (Hume, Of the First Principle of Government), it is Plutarch Heavensbee who mirrors this understanding and informs Katniss about it in the shape of Panem et Circenses; “Panem et Circenses translates into 'Bread and Circuses.' The writer was saying that in return for full bellies and entertainment, his people had given up their political responsibilities and therefore their power.” (MJ, 16). The fact that this is Plutarch who views the Games as such appears pivotal enough that Collins mentions him in reference to the quote:

SC: But there’s a dark side to bread, too. When Plutarch Heavensbee references it, he’s talking about Panem et Circenses, Bread and Circuses, where food and entertainment lull people into relinquishing their political power. Bread can contribute to life or death in the Hunger Games. (Scholastic, 2018)

Suzanne Collins’ previous interest in Plutarch

But when I step back and look at the series, she's not the character that I would identify most with. [...] This is such an unflattering thing to say about yourself, but it would be Plutarch Heavensbee. [...] Because he's the head gamemaker. Plutarch is creating the story, and he's creating the arena, and he's manipulating the characters--a writer isn't far from a gamemaker. I'm not for creating arenas or anything, but if you look at it from a creative perspective, we're really doing the same job. (times, 2013)

Suzanne Collins’ interest in Plutarch has culminated in the 10th Anniversary interview, where she makes frequent references to him, such as speaking about the reason why he was motivated to rebel. This indicates that Suzanne Collins has had deeper interest in Plutarch as a character and has an extensive backstory for him:

SC: Plutarch is the namesake of the biographer Plutarch, and he’s one of the few characters who has a sense of the arc of history. He’s never lived in a world without the Hunger Games; it was well established by the time he was born and then he rose through the ranks to become Head Gamemaker. At some point, he’s gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. Plutarch has a personal agenda as well. He’s seen so many of his peers killed off, like Seneca Crane, that he wonders how long it will be before the mad king decides he’s a threat not an asset. It’s no way to live. And as a gamemaker among gamemakers, he likes the challenge of the revolution. But even after they succeed he questions how long the resulting peace will last. He has a fairly low opinion of human beings, but ultimately doesn’t rule out that they might be able to change. (Scholastic, 2018)

Not only is Plutarch the character linked to propaganda, but he is further juxtaposed with Snow, the first prequel protagonist. In this interview abstract, she places these two characters at odds, potentially indicating that Plutarch can be seen as an antithesis to Snow:

DL: One of the things that both Snow and Katniss realize is the power of media and imagery on the population. Snow may appear heartless to some, but he is very attuned to the “hearts and minds” of his citizens . . . and he is also attuned to the danger of losing them to Katniss. What role do you see propaganda playing in the war they’re waging? SC: Propaganda decides the outcome of the war. This is why Plutarch implements the airtime assault; he understands that whoever controls the airwaves controls the power. Like Snow, he’s been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. (Scholastic, 2018)

Fitting as a future protagonist

YA protagonists are aged between 14-18 (Writer’s Digest), which Katniss (16-17) and Coriolanus (18) fall into. Thus, SOTR’s protagonist is unlikely to be someone older like Tigris, Snow, or Caesar. If the casting choice was representative of Plutarch’s age, he is within the fitting age range during the 50th Hunger Games.

A Gamemaker would offer a new perspective unlike the previous tribute and mentor point of views. Potentially, Plutarch could serve in the role of a junior or intern Gamemaker in between the Capitol’s High School (Academy) and College.

Suzanne Collins has hinted at several potential plot points that might be addressed in the prequel, such as:

At some point, [Plutarch’s] gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. (Scholastic, 2018)

What was that point? What motivated him to wish to end the Games?

Like Snow, [Plutarch’s] been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. There have been possible candidates, like Finnick, but no one else has captured the imagination of the country like she has. (Scholastic, 2018)

When and why did Plutarch realise he needed a “Spartacus to lead his campaign”? When did this campaign begin? Who else was a possible candidate?

“[...] They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!” [...] “Almost, but not quite,” says Haymitch from behind us. (CF, 14)

Was Haymitch’s “almost” rebellion perhaps the original inspiration for Plutarch to organise a rebellion through the arena? How did they try to spin his act? Was he the first possible “Spartacus”? Was there perhaps more to it that only the Gamemakers and Haymitch know about? Was footage manipulated or adjusted? Was the live show already manipulated or only later footage? How do the Gamemakers control the narrative? Will there be any insight helping us understand why the Gamemakers acted the way they did for the 74th Hunger Games?

Plutarch Heavensbee has been, for several years, part of an undercover group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. [...] We are currently on a very roundabout journey to District 13. (CF, 27)

Who was part of this group? How did he get in contact with District 13?

"Tigris," she says. "We need help." [...] "Plutarch said you could be trusted," adds Cressida. Great, she's one of Plutarch's people. / Tigris. Deep in my brain, the name rings a bell. She was a fixture--a younger, less disturbing version of herself--in the earliest Hunger Games I can remember. A stylist, I think. I don't remember for which district.  (MJ, 23)

How did Tigris and Snow fall out? How did Tigris become one of ‘Plutarch’s people’? Did they perhaps meet when Tigris was still a stylist and what was her life like then? Which Districts did Tigris work for?

"No. My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. Because of that stunt I pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me." (MJ, 12) / The crew hurries inside to edit the material, and Plutarch leads Finnick off for a chat, probably to see if he has any more stories. (MJ, 12)

Why and how was the decision made to kill Haymitch’s family? Did any people within the Capitol die due to Haymitch’s force field trick? Some that Plutarch might have known—possibly giving a personal motivation for rebelling against Snow?

Others begin to die off and it becomes clear that almost everything in this pretty place—the luscious fruit dangling from the bushes, the water in the crystalline streams, even the scent of the flowers when inhaled too directly—is deadly poisonous. (CF, 14) / A clock. I can almost see the hands ticking around the twelve-sectioned face of the arena. Each hour begins a new horror, a new Gamemaker weapon, and ends the previous. (CF, 23) / He made sure the wire was among the weapons. Beetee was in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. (CF, 27)

Were the arenas intended to be parallels to one another, seeming paradises until the true threats were revealed? And was the usage of the force field as the final act to destroy the arena an intentional parallel to Haymitch’s rebellious act?

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staircases and increasingly narrow halls (CF, 5) / And finally, how our mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, betrayed us both for a cause he pretended to have no interest in? (MJ, 2)

Will we learn why Haymitch knew the Justice Building in 11 so well? Could a young Plutarch perhaps have accompanied him on the victory tour who knew the place? Was this tour perhaps the beginning of their plotting together against the Capitol—with Plutarch trying to convince Haymitch to trust him?

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 26: Thereafter

Start From Beginning | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1k AN: This is more of an epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot of dialogue, but it does kind of wrap everything up. I really have enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have enjoyed it as well :) thanks for a fun time and a great ride. I could say 5,000 more things about this fic and how much I love you for supporting it, but let's finish this up :)

It had taken Ace a few days to make the house liveable, but plenty of people had opened their homes for you to stay in while you all finished the essential repairs. They never made you feel like a burden, and even though you tried to keep to yourselves, they were eager to get to know you.

You had expected to pay for all the tools you needed, but the townsfolk on this island were kind and generous. Several families had lent Ace tools, and some had even come by to offer their help. Even though you were on a hill outside of town, people dropped in throughout the day, bringing baked goods or hand-sewn linens as welcoming gifts. 

So much for privacy. You had more of it in your shared bunkhouse on the Moby Dick. 

But you didn’t find yourself irritated by the townspeople’s check-ins. While most of them asked basic questions about your past and eyed Ace’s scarred back, they never pried. And even better, they always seemed to know when it was time to leave. 

After a few weeks, you had fallen into a strange pattern of familiarity. Even as your belly grew bigger, you tried your best to help Ace as much as you could every day. In the morning, you would get up and make him coffee. He would always scold you, claiming that you were the one who was supposed to be pampered right now, but he continued to allow you to do it for now. 

You all would eat a quick breakfast, and then begin to work on house improvements. The morning was the best time to work, since it was still cool out. The two of you patched up holes in the walls and began to decorate the inside of your little two-bedroom cabin. The projects never seemed to end.

And every morning while you worked, Mr. Cheddle would deliver a newspaper, and you would invite him in for breakfast. If he declined, you would send him some kind of snack to thank him for bringing the paper up the hill. You knew he didn’t mind, but you still felt obligated to send him away with something. 

You’d leave Ace to go make lunch, and usually find some variety of baked goods on the counter from someone welcoming you to the town. You often found yourself wondering if people would ever stop sending you things, or if you would become someone who baked for your neighbors just for the hell of it. 

At lunch, you would read the paper and update Ace on anything interesting. Afterwards, the two of you would typically walk to town together to find something to do. Some days you would shop, others you would go your separate ways. Whether it was tea with Arabelle, or a walk in the park with Crilly and her three dogs, or even sitting at Sellie-Tien’s shop and catching up on gossip, you always found something to do. 

And as the sun set, you and Ace would walk back up the hill, talking of your time spent apart, and even stopping to chat with others along the road. 

What a strange life you were living. How mundane it all was. And yet…perfect. 

On one particular day it had been too hot for you to work, even in the morning. And with nothing to do, you decided to read the News Coo early. You kept your eyes peeled for any words of Luffy, but there had been no news of him since his stunt at Marineford. 

However, today there was far more interesting news on the front page. One you had been waiting for. 

One about Portgas D. Ace.

“You’re dead!” You cheered, holding up the News Coo to show Ace. 

Ace dropped his tools and ran over to you, reading it over quickly. 

“They made a grave for me and everything,” he said. “Impressive.” 

“It helps that they took your hat,” you mentioned. He pouted at the thought. 

“I’m gonna miss that hat.” He handed the paper back to you. “What about you?”

“Still nothing.” You read through the article once again just to make sure you hadn’t skipped anything. “I doubt they’ll officially say I’m dead.”

“Really?” Ace asked. “Why’s that?”

“Because they reported it wrong once,” you admitted, setting the paper down. “They can’t do that again. Can you imagine the embarrassment?”

“But they won’t bother us here.” Ace looked out over the ocean. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”

“That’s why Marco chose it for us,” you said. “It’s quiet. Out of the way. Nobody will bother us. It’s perfect.”

“Seems like a more than fair trade off,” Ace said, and you nodded in agreement. 

“We finally get to have our happily ever after.”

Ace smiled at you, kissing your cheek. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you. Our perfect little family.”

---

Sengoku stared long and hard at a small piece of paper with little hearts doodled all over. Against everything that he knew and had been told, the card sat between his fingers in perfect condition. 

Garp walked into the room, full of drive and purpose. “Listen Sengoku, I need to tell you something. I-“

“I know,” he said. “You’re going to retire. But before you turn in that resignation letter, I want to give you something.”

Sengoku handed off the piece of paper covered with hearts. “Do with this what you will. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen it.”

Garp examined it, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the name written across it in perfect cursive. Ace. 

“Where did you get this?”

“We took it off Portgas D. Ace when he arrived at Impel Down.  We thought it belonged to him, but that must not be the case, since he’s dead now.”

Garp held the card in his hand carefully. The paper slowly inched away from him. “So who’s it belong to then?”

“Probably nobody,” Sengoku shrugged. “I’m about to retire myself, and that little scrap of paper seems like a lot of paperwork and a lot of personal investigation. I just don’t have it in me. Especially for some pirate who we all saw die. Take it off my hands for me. Do something with it, just don’t tell me what. As a favor.”

“Yes sir,” Garp said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“No Garp,” Sengoku said. “Thank you.”

--

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598  @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi  @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld @aira-needs-sleep  @mothmomjay @ophelias-flowerss @aqualein @sehyojae @fanficwriter5 @forgotten-blues @amberash05 @firefistnoct @depressed-but-make-it-cute @stuckinthewrongworld@lizpoir

[ravenshavenn]

snape would cum if you played w his lil man boobs

A pinch of pleasure

(Watch me give the people what they want - I'm sorry this has been in drafts for farrrrr to long)

NSFW - Snape X gender neutral reader (tw- scars, biting)

Summary - playing with Snape's "lil man boobs" and feeding my own obsession with sub Snape

Trembling slightly Severus hands made swift work of his robes. Pale, delicate fingers unclasping each button. Until finally his scar covered torso was revealed.  

His wand discarded on a nearby potions desk, out of reach as he sat slumped in his desk chair. However, today Severus was more than happy to do things the muggle way. 

"Your gorgeous like this."  

Your voice hurled Snape back into reality. His dark eyes snapping open to focus on you. Head spinning to try and find a reply. Thoughts to disorganized to even try and form words. Let alone a coherent sentence. 

With your skirt hitched up around your thighs you straddled Snape's lap. Hands gripping securely around his shoulders. The top buttons of your own robes undone to match. Continuing to press delicate kisses to his neck you almost growled at the mouth-watering site which was Severus bare chest.  

He was slender, as was expected. Although, you hadn't anticipated the harsh jagged lines cutting across his pale flesh. Trying to make sure your gaze didn't linger you instead focused on the trail of dark hair leading down into the professor's trousers. It almost made your mouth water. Delicately you ran a hand through the fuzz on his soft belly. Half curious half admiring him the touch was still tender either way. Severus took a deep breath. 

"Ticklish?" You teased with a grin. pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

Severus almost smiled.  

"Perhaps." He breathed out. Chest rising and falling rapidly underneath you. Practically quivering with anticipation under your gaze. 

You knew he'd look irresistible like this. Your underwear didn't even stand a chance. Already sodden and practically dripping. Making your head spin and the fire in your stomach burn. Your movements sporadic and needy in time with his.  

The feeling was clearly mutual as Severus let out a strangled whine when you gave a soft bite to his shoulder. That was sure to leave a mark. His pale skin already flushing pink under you. 

"Y/n-" His voice was almost as breathy as his desperate whines. Hot breath fanning out across your neck. 

You just chuckled lowly in response. Not even taking a second to respond your hands moved from around Severus waist to his shoulders. Using your position as leverage, grasping him as you ground down onto his hard member. Hot through the wool of his trousers. 

"Merlin's beard Y/n!" Severus practically shouted. Trying not to cum there and then. 

His hips bucking up wildly to meet your own. Almost knocking you off the chair. However, Severus didn't seem to notice. His head now thrown back, dark hair fanning out around his bare shoulders. 

"You seem to be enjoying yourself professor." You mumbled lowly, leaning in to nibble teasing at his jawline.  

Enjoying the blissed-out look on Severus face your eyes wandered lower. Admiring his bare chest again.  

Besides his jutting erection, practically leaving a wet patch on his trousers and his flushed features there was something else which told you about his clear state of arousal. Taking a gamble, you lent forward to mouth at Severus throat again while your hands trailed upwards. Tickling along the potion master's sensitive flesh. 

In an instant Severus eyes flew open, head snapping up to look at you, 

"What-t are you doing?" He gasped  

You only grinned wickedly watching his eyes darken. You fingers gently playing with the hardened peeks of his nipples. 

"Nothing, Severus." You mumbled innocently. 

A noise forced itself from Severus throat at your movements. Obviously enjoying the sweet torture. Absent mindedly you wondered if anyone had ever touched him like this before. Judging by his reaction you didn't think so.  

Softly you swirled a hand around the pink nub. Once again feeling Severus jolt underneath you. However, that only set a fire in your belly, feeling yourself grow even wetter if that were possible. 

Severus even seemed startled by his own reaction. Dark eyes flickering open every now and again to study your face almost anxiously between his thrusting.  

Both of you sweating and panting profusely now, your hands continued to brush over Severus chest, switching between tweaking and tracing them as you pleased.  

Severus whined pathetically as you gave them a particularly harsh pinch. That would have made you laugh if he didn't immediately buck his hips up to meet yours, drawing out a moan from you instead. Your head falling forwards to rest on his shoulder. 

It didn't take long until he gasped. Grinding feverishly against you. Trying desperately to stay still yourself, Severus's strength almost pushing you off the chair. Finally with a deep groan Severus slumped over. Resting his head against your chest. His breath coming out in ragged breaths. 

"Are you alright?" You asked, running a hand gently through his now tangled hair. 

All you got in response was a weak nod.  

You smirked, satisfied with your work. It took a lot to leave the infamous sarcastic potions professor speech less. Or so you had thought. Clearly all it took was a pinch of pleasure. 

[finnsbubblegum]

Little Joel Miller (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: birth, needle, fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Summary: welcoming little Joel Miller to the world.

Words count: 1.6k

A/N: This series is ending really really soon so be ready 🥺 This is part 20 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ Love you!

Thank you @siesie2 for your comment and idea!! 

Let's pretend the GIF is you and Joel because I can't find one that looks good for this chapter!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Remind me how you convinced me to watch a horror movie again?” Joel tapped your shoulder.

You were laying on your sides on the couch, head resting on Joel’s lap.

“I love scary movies.” You scoffed.

“Well, I hate it.” Joel clicked his tongue.

“You’re a big guy but you can’t even stand scary movies.” You laughed.

“I can handle blood and killing stuff in movies but not ghosts.” Joel protested.

*eerie music from the movie*

Guessing from the music, you knew the ghost was coming soon. You got ready to scare Joel. 

*the ghost appeared*

“Ahh!” You sat and screamed at his face.

“Fuuuck!” Joel screamed and flinched. 

You laughed so hard at his face. 

“You really have to see your face!” You laughed holding your belly.

“You’re really really bad, mama.” Joel shook his head. 

His heart was about to burst. But you enjoyed teasing him. He was cute when he was like that. 

“You need to be punished, baby.” Joel crawled to you and tickled you.

“No! No! Stop it!” You giggled.

Joel knew your weakness was being tickled. You were ticklish. But Joel had to have revenge. He kept tickling you and laughed. You kept giggling as he tickled you. Your belly moved up and down as you laughed.

“Ooh-Ooh.” You felt a gush of liquid.

“I think I just peed a little.” You giggled.

“Mission accomplished.” Joel proudly said to you as he got his revenge done.

You thought it was pee so you tried to hold it but you couldn’t. Apparently, your water broke. 

“Shit, Joel. I think it wasn’t pee.” Your heart was beating faster.

“Don’t prank me again, baby.” Joel didn’t believe you.

“Do you really think I’m joking?!” You stood up and more liquid flowed down your thighs.

“Fuck! Ughh-” You groaned as you felt a shooting pain in your abdomen.

“Fuck-I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Joel stood up and held your hand.

You glared at him. You were not okay. You were scared actually. It was your first time having a baby and you were scared to death.

“I’m not okay, Joel. I’m scared.” Your voice cracked.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you to the hospital. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m here.” Joel put his arms around you and guided you to the car. 

You had everything ready a week before and put the hospital bag inside the car. So you wouldn’t have to move the stuff when you were already in a panic mode when your water broke. 

Joel drove as fast as he could to the hospital. He lent his hand for you to squeeze throughout the way to the hospital. Even though it didn’t help to ease your pain, his touch and existence gave you comfort.

“Fuuucckk.” You made a low guttural sound to let out the pain.

“Wish I could take your pain, baby.” Joel sat beside the hospital bed you were laying down.

He took your hand and kissed the back of your hand. Joel kept kissing and rubbing your hand with his thumb hoping to ease your pain. His heart broke at the thought of not being able to take your pain away. He couldn’t see you in pain, his eyes were getting teary seeing you crying in pain. 

“Joel..It hurts so much.” A tear fell down your cheeks.

“What can I do for you, baby?” He raised your hand and brought it to his lips.

“Ugghh..” You squeezed his hand.

Initially, you wanted to have a natural birth and feel the pain of giving birth without epidurals. But now you were having second thoughts. You thought you could handle it but turned out the pain was unendurable. 

“Joel-please-” You cried.

“What baby? What can I do?” Joel nodded and looked at you.

“I want the drugs. I need the epidural.” You begged.

“Okay, wait here. I’ll call the nurse.” Joel placed a kiss on your forehead and left the hospital room

A few moments later, the anesthesiologist and nurse came in with all the stuff they needed to inject the epidural for you. You saw a really big needle. Your heart beat faster. You could handle the normal needle but this one was the biggest you had ever seen. 

“That..is..the biggest needle I’ve ever seen.” Your eyes widened.

“Is that going to be inside me?” Suddenly the pain was gone.

“We will inject this to your spine, Mrs. Miller.” The anesthesiologist answered.

“Ughh..” You groaned.

Then the nurse helped to sit in the correct position and get ready for injecting the epidural. Joel was there beside you. His heart beat faster too as he saw the needle that would soon be injected to your spine. 

“Hold my hand.” You asked for Joel’s hand.

Joel immediately lent his hand and gave a strong grip to your hand. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out before the needle was inserted to your body. You squeezed his hand when you felt the needle injected to your spine. You hissed at the sting.

“It’s done.” The doctor tapped your shoulder.

You breathed out in relief. 

“Thank you.” You thanked the doctor and nurses.

The epidural worked so well. You felt less pain and you tried to sleep to get some rest. Joel was always there beside you. He took some rest when you sleep so he could stay awake when he needed you.  A few hours later, it was finally the time for the baby to come out. 

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to push in 1, 2, 3..” Your doctor guided you to push.

You held your breath, chin to your chest and pushed. 

“You’re doing great, baby.” Joel held your hand and leg.

He kept telling you encouraging words and being your rock. You were grateful Joel was there because you couldn’t do it alone. After a few pushes, your baby boy was finally born. Tears falling down your cheeks when you hear a cry from your baby. Joel cried too. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” Joel tucked your sweaty hair behind your ear then placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hi baby. Hi~” You stroked your baby that was laying on your chest.

“He looks like you, Joel. Little Joel Miller is here.” You teared up adoring your baby boy.

“Hi there, son.” Joel leaned in to get a closer look at his baby boy. He was tearing up too.

Then the nurses brought your baby to give him a bath, weigh him and check everything. Your baby was healthy and that was everything you needed. Your weak body laid on the hospital bed happy but felt weird.

“I feel weird.” You turned your head to Joel who couldn’t stop looking at his baby boy.

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to call the nurse?” Joel panicked.

“No-no. I just-It’s weird that he’s here now. I used to carry him for 40 weeks and now he’s here. And the fact that we made him.” You chuckled.

“We made him.” Joel shook his head and chuckled at your words.

“He’s a part of the two of us, Joel. Can you believe it?” You started to tear up.

“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?” Joel came to you and sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

“It’s happy tears. Don’t worry.” You chuckled as you sniffled.

“Thank you for bringing him to this world, baby. Our world. I promise I will protect our family  with my life. I love you.” Joel kissed your forehead and stroked your head.

“I love you too.” You smiled and invited him to lay on the bed with you.

Two days went by, you were finally able to go home with your newborn baby. Joel had called your mom and she said she would wait for you at your house with Sarah. Joel took the carseat with your baby sleeping in it then he helped you get out of the car.

“Hold on to me.” Joel put his arms around you. One hand holding your baby in the carseat.

“Ugh..” You groaned at the discomfort you were feeling as you got out of the car.

“You good?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Hmm. Yeah.” You nodded.

Joel held your weight and walked you inside the house slowly. 

“Oh my God!” Your mom squealed as she saw the sleeping baby.

“How are you feeling?” Your mom hugged you.

“I’m happy mom. But I need sleep.” You joked. 

“I’ll make you some tea.” Your mom went to the kitchen.

“Where is he? Where is he?” Sarah jumped and ran to you. 

“Hi, sweetie. Your brother’s sleeping. You need to calm down.” You stroked her head and chuckled.

Joel put the carseat on the coffee table so everyone could meet his boy.

“Sit here, baby.” Joel put a cushion on the couch for you to sit.

“Thank you, honey.” You stroked his upper arm and sat.

“Hi Sammy!” Sarah took her baby brother’s small hands and waved it gently.

You and Joel decided to name your son Sam. But he would always be little Joel Miller. 

“Do you want to hold him, babygirl?” Joel asked his daughter.

“Can I?” Sarah got excited.

“Of course you can, sweetie.” You rested your head on the couch and rubbed your belly.

“Sit here.” Joel patted the empty space between you and him on the couch for Sarah to sit.

“Place your hand like this.” Joel demonstrated to Sarah and she followed him.

“Hold his head, okay.” Joel slowly put his son in Sarah's arms. 

“That’s it babygirl.” Joel smiled, proud of his daughter being a big sister.

“You’re a big sister now, Sarah.” You stroked her head.

“I’m your big sister.” Sarah cooed to her baby brother and kissed his cheek.

Joel smiled looking at Sarah holding her baby brother. Then he rested his hand on your shoulder. You smiled at him when he rubbed your shoulder.

“I love you.” Joel mouthed to you.

To be continued…

Taglist:

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[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 12

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 11 Chapter 13

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 12: You already have me

Summary: Daryl couldn’t just resist Y/N only in one of his shirts waiting for him to sleep.

Warnings: pwp, smut, p in v, protected sex, oral (female and male), praise kink, use of the word f*ck 3x, soft cute dirty talk, pet names, untold feelings. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 1,906

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. This Chapter is purely smut, no plot, really. Next chapter we go back to the series plot.

After another long day of work in the farm, you were back to yours and Daryl’s tent, you still smiled when you thought about, it was kind of nice to share something with a person, specially someone that meant something to you. The last days had been hectic, with a lot of discussion about what to do with Randall, the kid they brought from the city.

You took off your daily clothes and changed for one of Daryl’s shirts, they were big and comfortable, perfect to sleep. When you finished changing he entered the tent and drank you in, he had already lent you his flannels, but having you in just one of his shirts and probably your underwear, was really a sight.

“Are ya trying to seduce me?” He said zipping the door without taking his eyes off you.

“I’m not, but is it working?” You walked in his direction and put your arms around his neck.

“Now, ya tell me.” He got a hold on your waist and brought your body to meet his, you could clearly feel his erection on your belly.

You looked at his face, he hovered over you a little bit curved because of the tent height. “I think it was very useful to seduce you given your conditions…”

He had a smirk on his face when his lips touched yours, devouring them… He needed you so much, he had been wanting you for so long that it was overwhelming, also the stress of the last days had taken the best of him. It was as if he was sick and you were the cure.

“I need ya, I need to have ya.” He said forehead against forehead, his words burning like fire from your chest going straight to your core.

“You already have me, I’m yours.” You breath heavily, gasping for air. Both of you lowered to the ground laying over your sleeping bags, Daryl between your legs.

You kissed again, one arm supporting his weight and the other traveling from your thigh to your hips, to your belly and ending on your breasts. “No bra?” He broke the kiss to comment. 

“I thought it was prohibited using one in this tent.” You gave him your sweetest smile.

“Good girl…” his husky voice on your ear made things to your panties. “Ya learn fast…”

You whimpered just by listening his voice and his praise. “Do ya like when I praise ya?” He asked cupping your breast, his thumb passing on your hard nipple. You just nodded, unable to say anything. “I made ya a question pup, use yer words to answer me.” His mouth close to your ear and then he licks a long strand from your jaw to your neck.

“Yes… I like it.” You said, your hands running down his chest to the hem of his shirt trying to pull it up. “Take it off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He took his shirt off immediately, his mouth going back to your neck and unbuttoning the shirt of his that you were wearing.

When he finished with the shirt he took a time to record the moment in his mind, you laying, wearing one of his shirts, your breasts showing with your hard nipples and your cute panties. In your needy state, you thought he was taking too long to go back to business. “Take a picture, it lasts longer” you said the one thing he used to always tell you when you kept staring for too long. And he would take a picture, if he had a damn camera and now he hated himself for not having one. 

He went back to your breasts now substituting his hands with his mouth sucking it and nibbling your nipples, eliciting the sweetest sounds from you. “That’s it baby, moan for me don’t keep your sweet little sounds from me.” His warm breath on your skin sending chills all over your body.

His mouth descending to your belly, going down to the place you needed him the most. His fingers pulled your underwear from your heat, you wriggled your hips and legs to help him taking it off faster. “Why the rush, pup?” He said giving you light little kisses between your thighs, you whined.

“Stop teasing… just do it, Daryl.” You cried tortured by the special treatment you were receiving from him.

“Nah… this is most of the fun.” He said too close to your core, his warm breath hitting your center and making you squirm in expectation.

He gave you one delicious kiss on your clit making you moan immediately and buck your hips. Your thighs closing instinctively trapping him between them. He gave a long lick on your folds feasting on your juices, your hand descended to hold his hair pressing his face against your pussy, his nose pressing your clit while his tongue worked heavens on your cunt making you whimper, squirm and moan. “Dee… please… please…” you pleaded him, you didn’t even know what you were requesting from him… a release? To just fuck you already? More?

“Not until you cum all over my face, baby…” He sucked your clit, nibbled it and then changed his attention again to your core tongue going as deep as he could. 

Your hand never leaving his hair, hips trusting on his face, experiencing the delightful sensation of the pleasure building in your lower stomach. He couldn’t stop eating out your delicious pussy. Your moans mixing with the sound of him devouring your juices making it sounds so pornographic that Daryl could swear he was capable of cumin by just eating you. You arched your back, your grip on his hair got tighter and your other hand gripped the sleeping bag under you. Once again you were filled with that marvelous feeling exploding and spreading and making you shiver, shake and whine while Daryl was still with his face buried in you and helping you go through your orgasm.

“Fuck… I was dyin’ to do it since last time I tasted ya.” He said coming back between your legs and kissing your lips, hungry, thirsty, almost feral. 

You could taste yourself in his mouth all together with his usual delicious taste and also tobacco that you weren’t really a fan, but tasted surprisingly well in his mouth. Your hands were on his back, but soon you took them to his stomach going to his waistband and unbuckling his belt, and oh you were happy he didn’t stop you this time. You opened his pants and put your hand inside on top of his bulge, palming it. It was rocking hard, he let out a groan before breaking the kiss. Your hands going to the waistband of his boxer pulling it down just enough to let his cock spring free.

You couldn’t contain your surprised face when you saw it, big and thick hitting his stomach once it was set free. You always thought dicks were such an ugly body part, but looking at Daryl’s you could affirm his was rather beautiful, even the hair he got that came from his belly and went down there. You pushed his trousers and box down the maximum that your arms allowed you, you just wanted him naked as soon as possible with his dick inside you. “‘Kay baby, I got it, gonna take them off.” He distanced himself just enough to get rid of his remaining pieces of clothing going back to you.

You sat and looked down at his throbbing dick, you couldn’t just resist. “C-can I touch it?” You asked and he just took your hand in his, and guided to his cock.

“Ya don’t need to ask, just touch it. It’s yers.” He hissed once your hand was around it, caressing, rubbing… going up and touching the head. 

“Can I taste it, just a little bit?” You asked doe eyes looking at him, how could he say no to such a pretty thing like you, when you asked so nicely. He loved how you were so submissive in a moment like this, as outside the sheets you didn’t take any shit from him or anyone.

“Just a little bit, pup. I don’t wanna cum in yer mouth, not today.” He caressed your cheek and let you take your time. 

You tried giving small licks on its head feeling the salty taste of precum, he got a hold on your hair just to stable himself, because the wave of pleasure that was sent through his body shook him. You gave a long lick along his shaft eliciting groans and grunts from him, and when you got to the head again you put it inside your mouth sucking and humming on it, eyes on his face and he was making the most pretty faces for you. He let out a moan and he couldn’t continue like this anymore, if your mouth continued any little longer on him, he would lose it, fuck your mouth and forget all the things he wanna do to you.

He pulled you from his dick pulling your hair and taking a look at your blushed face, swollen lips and bit of spit going from your mouth to your chin. “It’s enough baby, now I need to feel ya around me.” He said curving to give you a quick kiss. He took a condom and handed it to you. “Wanna make the honors?”

You took the pack and ripped it open taking the rubber to place it on Daryl’s cock. Thanks anyone up there, you had learned how to do it on sex education. Because before, you were never offered the chance of doing it.

When you finished, Daryl’s hand went to your nape tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing your face close to his for a kiss. He made you lay down again and in between your heated kiss he started to rub his length up and down between your folds spreading your juices all over his shaft. You moaned between your lips, hips trusting into him while he tortured you with his teasing and didn’t do what you wanted him to do so much. “Eager, are we?” He asked, breaking the kiss and looking into you half closed half open eyes.

“Oh Daryl… please… just…” You pleaded him, begged unable to say the words of what you really wanted and overwhelmed by his cock fucking your folds. 

“Please wha’, baby?” He asked hands caressing your hair. 

“Please…” You cried, ‘make love to me’ you wanted to say, but even with all the possessiveness, all the protection and all the unsaid words both of you had in your eyes, you couldn’t dare to ask it of him, because you didn’t know what he really felt, you didn’t even know exactly what you felt and you were so afraid of losing him and everything that you got. “Please, fuck me.”

“Didn’t know ya were such a dirty girl…” He said still moving outside your pussy.

“I am, ‘cause of you.” You barely managed to say. God, if he continued like this you’d come again just by the brush of his dick outside of you. “Dee… if you don’t go inside me any soon… I’m gonna cum again just like…”. You didn’t get to finish your sentence as the amazing electric wave of pleasure rushed all over your body, making you whimper and shiver out of pleasure.

“Ma dirty girl” He said caressing your hair and your face, peppering small kisses here and there. “Say ya’re ma dirty girl.” He rubbed the tip os his cock on your entrance, making you feel dumb because the words couldn’t come out of your mouth. “Hm… just tell me.”

“I’m… your dirty girl, Daryl…” you said breathlessly thinking you’d probably die from anticipation. “Now, please, gimme your cock.” 

“Don’t need to ask twice.” He said, ‘very funy’ you thought ‘just as if you didn’t make me beg you some seconds ago’.

He knew there was some time you didn’t have anyone inside of you, you were well lub, but he knew he should start things slow. He started pushing himself inside you and oh god the sensation of him stretching you was too much, you felt like he couldn’t go any further, but you needed him deeper. You felt already so full, but still it seemed like it wasn’t enough. “Fuck, ya’re so tight. I can barely move.” He hissed. “Are ya ok?”

“Yeah… uhg… just go until you’re full inside me” you answered arms around his torso, your fingers brushing lightly his back.

He moved a little bit more inside you and you couldn’t help moaning while he groaned the restraining feeling on his dick almost pulling him on the edge. “We’re almost there, pup.” Once he said it, bottomed out. “Tell me when I can move.”

“Okay”, you said, one hand caressing his hair, the other holding on his shoulder drawing little circles on it. Once adjusted to him, you gave him permission to move. “We can keep going.”

He pulled almost everything out, just to go fully deep again. He was slow but it didn’t mean he was being soft, he was a delicious mixture of rough and soft that you needed to know how to appreciate. “How d’ya like it, baby?” He asked face hidden on your neck, lips almost brushing your ears. “Wanna it slow and sweet or rough  and fast?” He moved inside you in a torturing pace  and you just wanted him to do his magic and send you to wonderland again.

“Whatever you like Dee… whatever you wanna do is what I want.” God, you just wanted to be fucked it didn’t matter how.

“Pup, if I did everything I wanted with ya, you’d probably not walk by tomorrow.” He pounded into you pulling out slowly and bottoming out in one quick movement, eliciting a whine from you. “If it’s too much, tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you.” You said looking deep into his blue eyes that were like an ocean where you’d not mind to dive deep in.

He kissed you once again passionately while his hips trusted into you pursuing the best pace, the right one, hitting further into you just in that place that would make you see stars. You put your legs around his waist feet resting on his butt, you just wanted him to go deeper which was impossible since you were already almost fused as one person, that was how close you were. “Daryl… more, I need more…” you begged him as he hit that exactly spot inside you that sent you to the moon and back. “Fuck… yes… right there”. He continued lips on your neck sucking it and nibbling it, you were perfect, he had never experienced something so good before, not that he was sober enough to enjoy it properly any of those times. But in that moment, he was aware of everything, you, your surroundings, all the sensations, his untold feelings. 

He hit that same spot again, and again, and again. It was becoming too much, you bit your lips trying to restrain not your moans, but the scream that was begging to be released from your lungs, you could be wrong, but you were pretty sure the others would listen if you screamed. You felt pathetic being so worked up, you were not even going kinky, but it had been so long and nobody had ever made you feel good like Daryl did, all the feelings were maximized. “Moan for me baby… I wanna listen to ya.” He said, breathing heavily his voice even more deep and hoarse.

“It’s… too much. I… I wanna… scream…” You tried saying between his trusts and jolts of the overwhelming pleasure being shot throughout your body. He caught your hands intertwining your fingers, putting your arms up your head, looking at your eyes, watching how your face contorted in pleasure. God, he loved it… he loved… he felt like he wanted to fuck you every single day of his life and he wouldn’t get bored, he’d be happy, all his problems would be solved. He was lost in you and scared, and he couldn’t stop himself from coming for more, wanting more. 

“Ya can scream, scream ma name, moan it, do whatever ya feel like to…” he was almost there, he could feel it, and didn’t want to go without you, or before you. He took one of his hand between you, while the other continued to hold your hand, and touched your clit, circling it, pressing it… you were close now too, he could feel you clenching around him bringing him closer to his realese. He hit that delicious spot just one more time and sent you to the edge a scream of his name, as he reached his too biting your shoulder as he did so, trusting a few more times till both of you had gone through it.

He pressed his body against yours, not pulling out just yet. He observed your face, your breathing, your hands still holding, your eyes looking all over his face. If you weren’t sure before, now you were… you were definitely screwed. You had it bad for the archer. “ya good?” He asked, his other hand taking some hair from your face.

You nodded unable to say anything, holding his hand tightly, bringing it from above your head and resting it between your chests. “You good?” You asked him back. He took your hands and kissed the back of yours, then your forehead, the tip of your nose and a quick peck on your lips. “Ya’re perfect. ya did it so good. ya took it so well… I’m proud of ya.” His words sending that tingling sensation down to your core.

“Damn, you can’t talk so nice to me like that, or you’re going to have me all worked up again.” You confessed embarrassed trying to hide your face. 

“That’s the whole point of it.” He said playfully, something you didn’t always get from him.

Very reluctantly he pulled out from you and got rid of the used condom. You were buttoning up the shirt again when he came back to you and stopped you. “Let me see ya shoulder, I guess I bit ya too harsh.” You stopped and let him take a look, it was red, he could see the mark of his teeth clearly there. It was probably going to become purple too. “ ‘m sorry.”

“I didn’t mind at the moment. I don’t mind now. It felt good.” You said while he gave a chaste kiss right at the spot he had bit.

You finished buttoning the shirt while he wore sweatpants and took a clean rag to clean you from your own juices. After it, you laid on the sleeping bags and you motioned for him to lay on your chest and he did.

Now he was starting to get used to it, being taken care of, being ‘laying on your chest’ intimate with you… and he couldn’t just stop accepting everything you were so willing giving to him.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Just let me know.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2 @royaltysuite @isakyakiisak @milopenne

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Dad!Alastor when you're uncomfortable during pregnancy / going into labour?

A/n: I need to write something small, decided to make this be about you being pregnant with the second baby.

Edit: I 100% read that wrong, I am so tired, it was meant to be Alastor, dont know how I saw Lucifer.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to get in a more comfortable position. Edna frowned as she rested her head on your belly, her eyes looking up at you with a worried expression on her face.

"Are you okay mama?"

Sucking in some air, you forced a smile on your face as you placed your hand on your daughters head. "I'm fine...really sweetie, you have nothing to worry about."

Just as Edna was about to protest, Charlie lifted her in her arms giving you a light smile. "Dad will be in soon, I'll watch over her."

"Thank you Charlie." giving her a relived smile, you watched the two leave only for Lucifer to rush in. "Hello girls!" his attention quickly moving to you. "Are you okay? is he here?" chest heaving he moved to your side placing his hand on your belly, doing his best to sooth you.

"I'm fine...okay maybe I'm not fine per say but I am well enough." Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes for a moment.

Letting out a grunt, Lucifer moved so he was sitting behind you, to hold you. "Well...the person to help you with the baby so be here soon and then after that I will be holding my son and I am just."

Despite the pain hitting you thanks to the contractions, you couldn't help but chuckle at Lucifer's reaction. He was just to adorable, to sweet as you lent into his embrace. "You went through this two times before, how are you still nervous."

"To be honest, Lilith didn't want me in the room when Charlie was born." he grumbled. "And with Edna.." he paused pressing his face into your neck. "She was my second chance...you were my second chance and now our little family is growing and." Lucifer sniffled as he messaged your side then placed a kiss to the side of your head. "I love you, you and our family mean's so much." His voice wavered as he continued to message yourside.

Gaze softening, you looked up at Lucifer gritting your teeth for a moment as the contractions hit you again though you let out a soft sigh feeling warmth from Lucifer's finger tips take the pain away. "You're such a good father Lucifer, I couldn't have asked for a better husband...I love you too."

Smiling, Lucifer held you close then kissed the top of your head. "I can't wait to meet him"

"I feel the same way."