#only to sink below once more

[wonkyjaw]

I’m fully losing itttttt.

I now have what’s sure to be a raging headache and my chest hurtsss. Because I had the audacity to put the baked oatmeal in the freezer and then shower.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

more 18+ LOGAN HOWLETT thoughts bc clearly im a big fat fucking liar

fem!reader, 583 words

Early morning sex is one of Logan’s favourites. There’s no rush, no haste – nothing. The rest of the world quiet, as if it's only the two of you up. 

He’d often be cuddling into you from behind, arm like a dead, sleeping weight around your middle. His hand in a protective hold under one of your tits, keeping you there with your back to his burly chest. It’s rather comfortable.

And as his eyes begin to open, adjusting to the dawn sky through the gap of the curtain, he notices something between his legs causing him anguish. Thick, naked cock rock hard against the cheek of your ass, the little sleeping, unknowing motions of you only furthering that agony.

He nuzzles his face into you from behind, chin hooking on the nape of your neck as he presses soft, light kisses into your cheek – trying to ease you awake. And when you inhale, the sound prolonged and sleepy, he only tempts you further: running the scruff of his beard over your bare shoulder, lips pressing faintly into the side of your throat.

“Got something I want you to take care of, sugar,” he whispers, voice low and gruff beside your ear. His hand on your tit beginning it’s gentle kneading, again, like he was trying to coax you. Pushing it even further by saying your name in that deep, manly way he often does.

You nestle your head back into him, humming in a way as if to show your intrigue. Your half-asleep self silently asking him to elaborate. And when he takes the hint, his grasp around your breast loosens, instead moving down to your stomach – large fingers brushing over your warm, bare skin. 

The trail continues, his touch moving down to between your thighs, the thickness of his wrist acting like a wedge betwixt your legs. His middle finger instinctively extends downwards, the tip of it running between the lips of your pussy, the action like a gentle, momentary warm up.

And so, he leaves that spot just below your clit, reaching his hand behind you —to the front of him— and to his cock. Fingers wrapping around his base, fist faintly pumping over his dick as if to ready himself – simultaneously guiding his head towards you from behind.

He teases you briefly with the tip as he lines up, swirling and circling himself around your entrance before sinking into you. The remnants of last night’s dirty affairs acting like a natural lubricant.

He stills, using his cock like a plug as if to allow you a moment to adjust – accommodate him once again. But it was like muscle memory, the walls of your pussy stretching and wrapping around him, drawing more of him in. 

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound cutting his curse short. He wraps his arm back around your middle, hand finding itself tucked under your tit –like his prior sleeping position– using your body for stability as he begins to slowly rock into you. 

Your eyes close as you melt into him, posture softening against his chest, grip loosening around his thick wrist. He inadvertently mirrors you, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating as he rests his head back on the pillow – relaxing into you the way you do him. 

Like it all required no effort. The unrushed, irregular wind of his hips into you from behind letting you both feel just enough, each of you still far too sleepy for it to be anything more than this.

I rewatched DOFP for him last night. massive mistake. cried myself to sleep

[crushmeeren]

MEN WHO ARE SECRETLY PUSSY HOUNDS. (✿˶˘ ³˘)

⋆ ft. izuku, tamaki, megumi, tobio 𓌹-𓌺

master list link

࣪ . ˖˙ 𖥦 I kind of hate this…… and I made it way too long on accident. But once I started I wanted so badly to finish it, so….. please enjoy while I crawl into a hole. (՞߹ - ߹՞)

Izuku never fails to stand tall in the face of whatever comes his way. The man is an unyielding force in his resolve if he believes in what he’s doing.

Such a statement is simply a fact of life. It’s like declaring that the sky is blue, grass is green, and Midoriya Izuku happens to be the single most determined man you’d ever met.

He’s clever, wicked smart and, as he’s gotten older, he’s managed to get a handle on his nervous stuttering and rambling.

Hell, if you watched him in an interview now, you wouldn’t think to associate him with the humiliating first interview he’d had right out of school that managed to make him go viral overnight. The comments were not kind.

So, as calm and well spoken as Izuku is today, you never expected him to be such a….. such a pussy hound for you. It’s the best way you can describe it.

Izuku fucking loves that tight little pussy of yours in such a gut wrenching manner that he day dreams about it often enough it’s resulted in Bakugou smacking him upside the head to “pay fucking attention,” more than once during department meetings.

The scenarios that run rampant through his mind are more than enough to send all his blood rushing below his bellybutton while he’s at his desk. With the way his stomach clenches and the ache that burns and nags at him to just get. inside. your. fucking. pussy. — well, he’s sure his briefs are sticking to the tip of his cock in the most lewd way.

So, Izuku takes a long lunch.

Just like that, as soon as he gets home, Izuku becomes the stuttering, blushing, babbling mess he was not so long ago. He strides into your kitchen, snaking his arms around your waist and groans when he smells the sweet vanilla scent of your lotion on your neck.

You easily let him grip your hips and lift you up onto the edge of the counter, fingers slipping into your soft sleep shorts and tugging them down and off your ankles. Izuku kisses you frantically, shoving his pants to mid thigh and allowing his cock to bob free and smack his stomach.

He shivers, giving you the prettiest high pitched whine that shoots straight to your pussy when his heavy dick starts stretching you a bit too eagerly. His lips part and his cheeks blossom with a blush so intense you’re sure steam will come from his ears as he bottoms out.

It’s too much too quickly and when you hiss, sinking your nails into his shoulders, all he can do is bury his face in your throat and whimper in apology. You can tell he’s desperate when his voice starts to shake and his hips thrust in shallow motions controlled by a mind of their own.

He babbles, “M’sorry princess, m’so sorry! Your pussy’s so good squeezing my cock, I can’t stay still. God — oh my god, please please let me fuck you!”

It’s fruitless to resist his begging. So suffice to say, you let your blubbering, stupidly hot, pussy hound of a husband use you until you’re both curling your toes and seeing stars.

Tamaki is shy on a good day.

He blushes bubblegum pink, he stammers, he avoids eye contact to the absolute best of his ability during interviews. Of course, he does manage to put on a more approachable front to face the public. If only to show impressionable children that if he can be brave, then they can, but still he struggles with his own anxiety.

It’s only common sense that everyone assumes you’re the more dominate one in the bedroom, and well, they aren’t wrong, per se.

But, there are two sides to every coin, and Tamaki is nothing if not a pussy hound for you.

Granted, his inner dog only comes out every so often, and even then he’s still a desperate puppy who seems to wiggle his way into having control.

And tonight, that’s where you find yourself.

Tamaki swears he can’t help it.

“T-Tamaki, stop!” You push at his shoulders, the warmth of his slick chest presses firmly against your tits and it does not help your resolve in any way. “Let me finish washing my hair at least,” you protest weakly, steam curling up into the air around you both, blanketing the shower in a fog.

Tamaki whines childishly into your throat, sucking at the hollow of it until you shudder in his hold. His fingers tighten on your hips, thumbs tracing the bone softly.

“Please pretty girl, I need you so bad. I wanna feel your pussy sucking on my cock. I’ve wanted it all day,” he pleads against your collarbone, voice pitching higher, dragging out the words at the end as he complains continuously.

He’s been at this for almost the entirety of your mutual shower and, really, it’s not as if you don’t want to have sex with him, you just wanted to finish cleaning off first! Decidedly, you lace your fingers in his drenched purple hair and yank until he pulls back and meets your gaze.

His face is a pretty rosy pink and his eyes are so hooded they’re almost shut, no trace of your shy husband to be found as he stares you down with a searing heat.

Within a heart beat of your agreement he spins you, pushing a hand into the middle of your back and tugging on your hip until your ass is sticking out. You yelp, catching yourself with palms meeting cool tile.

His cock is full and jumps steadily when he rolls his hips to drag it over the lips of your pussy, gasping softly and hanging onto your waist with an iron grip until his weeping tip catches. Then he’s sliding inside and stretching you out completely with one sharp thrust.

One low moan of his name and Tamaki’s wrenching you back to meet each desperate push of his hips. The smack of your skin is so loud it makes your face burn, and the force of it pulls you up onto your toes to keep your balance. This man’s got you biting your fingers just to keep yourself grounded.

Your poor husband’s been so worked up all day that when his panting turns into stuttered breaths and cut off whimpers after about three minutes, you’re not surprised.

“Oh, oh god, I’m gonna cum baby, wanna cum inside. Please can I?” He pleads, eyes glued to where his cock disappears inside your pussy and returns even shinier than before.

He’s crying out, shoving his dick to the root inside you and stuffing you full before you finish nodding yes.

But, it doesn’t bother you much that he finished so fast. Soon after, a soft, warm tongue starts playing with your clit, lazily eating your pussy until you’re licked clean of his release and squirting on his face.

Megumi pretends to be aloof. He pretends that he’s cool, collected, and apathetic. As if nothing ruffles his feathers, and to give him credit, he can be those things.

Yet, he’s also much more. Once you sneak past his prickly exterior, Megumi is the kind of guy who cares so violently that he has to pretend he doesn’t or it’ll tear him to shreds. Actions speak louder than words with him.

Most people aren’t privy to the softer side of your sweet husband and he maintains his uncaring attitude to the majority nonetheless. Like it’s some kind of secret.

So you’re sure people would be unfathomably shocked to find that Megumi can and has, on several occasions, dissolved into a messy, needy, unraveled pussy hound when it comes to you.

When Megumi falls into this sort of mood, he really lets go. He’s been sending you increasingly toe curling texts and pictures all day while you were at work and you just knew what was coming once you returned home.

You find the dark haired man sitting on your couch, shorts and briefs shoved to his thighs and t-shirt rumpled at his collar bone. Slender fingers curl tightly around his cock, jerking himself off slowly, a delicious peachy blush trailing from his cheeks to his nipples.

His head raises up when he spots you, eyes heavy and smoldering when he reaches a hand out to you and makes a grabbing motion.

“C’mere baby, want you so bad,” he murmurs pitifully, hips rolling up to meet his hand when he drags it back down his shaft. You raise an eyebrow in amusement and he pushes out his lower lip.

“You need it that bad Megumi?” You tease, sauntering over to the couch to get a better look at him. He scowls in return but his hand never leaves his cock, thumb swiping over the head which makes him bite harshly onto his lower lip.

He sinks down a little lower into the couch, brows pinched together to emphasize his pretty little pout. “Don’t be mean. Just ride me.” He pauses, eyeing you. “Please.”

“Awfully demanding for someone who needs my pussy so badly, aren’t you?” The smug smile on your face makes Megumi huff indignantly.

You don’t waste much more time teasing after that, too riled up from all the nasty texts he’d sent you throughout the day.

You strip off your clothes until you’re bare. Megumi kicks off his shorts and yanks his shirt off in similar fashion, tossing them aside carelessly. You crawl onto the couch and straddle his lap, raising on your knees and steadying him at the base until you smoothly sit all the way down on his cock.

Megumi’s hands fly to your waist, head tossing backwards and eyes rolling back with a throaty moan when he finally gets the unrelenting tight squeeze on his dick that he’s been longing for since he woke up this morning.

You thread a hand through the hair at the base of his skull and pull until he looks you straight in the eye. He looks pussy drunk already with his glassy eyes and pink cheeks, jaw hanging open as his chest heaves. To think, you haven’t even moved yet.

You ride him slowly at first, listening to his bitten off gasps each time you sit back down. When you start to pick up the pace, Megumi’s eyes widen and his nails pinch your hips.

Megumi pleads with you to no avail. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels amazing princess, I can’t.” His voice takes on the whiny quality that you adore. “Please, s-slow down baby or I’m gonna cum.”

You don’t slow down. You kiss him sweetly, brace a hand on one shoulder, tangle the other in his hair again and fuck him until his breaths are shuddering remnants of a sob and he’s limp on the couch beneath you.

Tobio, without sugar coating it, is arrogant. Don’t get it wrong, he absolutely can back that confidence up with the seemingly natural intelligence he has when it comes to volleyball, but he’s clueless with relationships. Not to mention he has zero filter.

But he’s kind. He’s sweet, and you love Tobio so much for trying his very best to understand the ins and outs of what it means to be a good boyfriend to you. He becomes such an easygoing version of himself when he’s alone with you and you get more enamored with him by the day.

That’s why you’re sure people, mainly Hinata, would pay good money for the information that “the king” is a desperate fiend for you. Your very own personal pussy hound.

Tobio commands the court, but he melts into the mattress and becomes something akin to putty when you have sex.

Your usually indifferent boyfriend has been persistently begging you all night to sit on his face and now that you are, you wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

“Jesus Tobio, you’re so good at eating pussy — fuck,” you praise, voice slipping into a whine as you roll your hips to drag your swollen clit over his velvet tongue. Your fingers tangle in silky black hair and pull until Tobio’s eyes flutter shut with a husky moan.

One of his hands slide from your hip to your ass and he spanks you harshly, grabbing a handful before he moves it down to squeeze the base of his cock.

You keep your heavy lidded gaze on his pretty face, chest rising and falling with choked off gasps the closer you get to cumming. Tobio licks lazily at your pussy, pushing his tongue inside you and then sucking on your clit.

He cracks open his eyes and his stare makes you feel as if warm honey rushes through your veins instead of blood. His cotton candy pink cheeks paint him as the picture of pussy drunk between your thighs, whimpering when you yank on his hair that much rougher.

It doesn’t take much more for you to cum with a shiver and then Tobio’s wildly shoving you down his body until his heavy cock is nestled against your pussy.

“Baby please,” Tobio whines, large hands kneading your ass and spreading you until cool air brushes over you. “I was good yeah? So let me put my cock inside you.”

“Why should I? You’re already about to cum, aren’t you Tobio? Just from eating a little pussy.” You can’t resist the urge to tease him, tone dripping in condescension and a wolfish grin tugging at your lips.

He glances at the wall with a frown, blush roaring back to life with a vengeance but the cock twitching rhythmically between your thighs contradicts his petty actions.

“You’re gonna cum as soon as you get inside of me.”

Your boyfriend shoots you a halfhearted glare. “No, I’m not.”

Tobio, in fact, does cum the instant you sit all the way down on his cock. His voice cracks when he does, a sweet cry of your name falling from his lips.

Lucky for you, he stays rock hard afterwards, and he only looks a little dazed. Tobio flips you both and fucks you until your pussy is raw and he has nothing left to give.

[slushycoookie]

Kinktober Day 3 ~ Somnophilia

Logan Howlett x AFAB! Reader

Summary: You can't sleep so you decide to mess with Logan.

A/N: I love writing about somnophilia, it's so fun. Hope you all enjoy!

Prev *✧･ﾟ: Next

Kinktober '24 Masterlist

You couldn't sleep.

You were tossing and turning for a few hours, noticing the clock showing 3 in the morning. Your body was getting warm due to the body heat of your husband beside you. Logan was on his back, arm under your head as he snored towards the ceiling. Usually, his loud snores were enough to soothe you to sleep, but not this time.

You turned towards his sleeping frame, watching his chest slowly rise and lower in a steady rhythm. He looked at peace. Not once dealing with the bullshit in his life. You admire his hairy arms, his broad chest making an outline through his white tank top, and the-oh—a tent under the sheets.

Pulling them down, there's an imprint of Logan's cock against his pajama pants. It was random. Your man had no clue what was going on.

You stared at his erection as if you hadn't seen it a million times. That same fluttering feeling formed between your legs and you started getting a thought. You two talked about playing with each other while the other was asleep. Both agreeing to try it out. You never thought you had a reason to pounce on Logan as he slept, but now you do.

Your eyes never left the tent when your fingers reached down below your waistline. Under your pajama shorts, rubbing along your folds then inserting a finger inside. You bit your bottom lip as you fingered yourself, not wanting to make so much noise to disturb his rest. Your middle finger doing a horrible job not pushing against your walls like his dick did, but enough to get you wet. Logan would comment on your soaked pussy, eager to get more from you. He could be so impatient at how he tugged your underwear before mouthing at your cunt. Or watching himself slide his length against you, groaning at your wetness.

Once you were slick enough, you pulled off your shorts and tossed them to the side.

Logan still wasn't disturbed by the way he didn’t move a muscle during your movements. Even as you pulled down his pants, watching his cock spring free. Standing tall and proud, waiting for you to make the first move. You licked your lips, deciding to get a quick taste first.

Your husband stiffened when you wrapped your mouth around his tip. That caused you to freeze, hoping he didn't wake up and see him in your mouth. To your relief, he didn't. You continued by taking more of him. The tip of your nose against his hair, saliva coating his shaft as you slowly bobbed your head up and down. Some of his pre cum coating your tongue.

“Shit…” Logan swore under his breath and you froze once more. Him halfway down your throat only to hear more snoring.

You keep going, not wanting to get greedy and pick up the pace. Accidentally making Logan come down your throat while you still needed attention was not ideal. When you part from him, a string of saliva connects to his shaft. Logan’s brows furrow as the cool air forms around his cock.

You dipped your fingers inside once more, humming at your sex being wet enough to your liking. With some of your arousal on your fingers, you stroked him. His cock shining in the moonlight from a mix of your wetness and spit, focused on every vein that decorated his shaft. How pre cum leaked from his tip, helping you gather more lubrication to stroke him with. His tip red from the treatment.

As carefully as you could, you hovered above him. The bed creaked from the pressure, almost loud enough to stir him awake. Although a sigh of relief escaped you when he didn't wake up. You angled his cock before sinking down onto him. Shaky breaths escape you while Logan hisses at the sudden contact. You held everything in your power to not moan loudly, despite how his cock hit a nice spot against your walls.

“Fuck…” Logan's nostrils flared, breathing getting unsteady.

“Don’t wake up, Lo’…” You shushed, “I'm making you feel good.”

You slowly raised your hips, enough for only his tip to be inside before sliding back down. Your hands on his chest for stability. Bouncing up and down on him wasn't ideal, considering your goal. But it set a delicious pace for you while he stretched you out. A nice burn to your core.

Logan's groans came out low, matching the volume of your own moans as you couldn't be quiet any longer. His arm moves as if he’s searching for you, but stays still at another raise of your hips. Your eyes in the back of your head as you lower back down. You start wondering if he's waking up by the way his hips start to meet yours. Snores nonexistent, and his face frowned in concentration.

Your pace starting to get desperate, hand over your mouth to hide your sobs. Your finger sloppily rubbing your clit. A climax rapidly arrived as your body tensed, low cries escaping you. Your cunt molding around Logan's dick like a glove. To prolong your orgasm, you uneasily kept moving up and down, just enough for his seed to coat your insides.

You crashed along his chest, hearing his strained grunts as he unloaded in you. The sounds of crickets added to the atmosphere of your heavy breathing, trying to get yourselves together.

“Sugar?” Logan called his voice hinting at exhaustion.

“Hm?”

“Did you…did I just…?” He glanced down, seeing he was still inside you.

“I couldn't go back to sleep. Thought this was the best way…” It was his turn to hum, burying his face on your head. “Was I able to make you feel good?”

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead, “Definitely.”

Tags: @fandomfics @freythecrazyfae @maddyperezzzsstuff

@mynamesstevenwithav @eyes-ofhell

@maxad99 @howlingco @cherrypieyourface

@snails-doodles22 @siren-141 @nega-omega

@sweetimpurity @hehekittyhawk

@spencerswh0r3 @saintdiior @maliaofthevalley

@yxtkiwiyxt @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @ripleyswife

[rafecameronssl4t]

Just a friend || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: based off season 4 ep 2 with the scene between Rafe x Hollis x Sofia

Warnings: nothing rlly

Word count: 1,308

A/n: I know I said I was on a break but just did my final exam for my law course for the year 😝 thank fuck! ALSO send thru any requests u have for the new season 🤗🤗 writing a bunch to post for when i do come back fully 💗

MASTERLIST

The evening air was warm and humid, typical of a late summer night in the Outer Banks. The Kooks had gathered at one of the island’s most luxurious estates for a party that oozed exclusivity. You were dressed in a new cheetah print set, the fabric of it hugging your body just right, making you feel confident as you walked through the crowd with your drink in hand.

Across the yard, you noticed him leaning casually against a table, his broad shoulders and clean-cut look commanding attention. But what caught your eye more was the woman standing next to him. She was older, probably in her late thirties or early forties, with a certain allure that radiated confidence.

Her blonde hair stopped below her ears, and she was smiling at Rafe in a way that made your stomach twist a little. You slowed your steps, eyes narrowing as you observed their conversation. Her hand rested on his arm, just for a moment too long. He was smiling at something she said, that charming smile that you knew all too well lighting up his face.

Jealousy began to bubble up inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you made your way over to them. The closer you got, the more clearly you could hear their conversation, though their words were light—nothing out of the ordinary. Still, the way she was looking at him didn’t sit right with you. “Hey, Rafe,” you interrupted, stepping between them, your tone casual but laced with something more.

You gave the woman a polite smile, but your focus was entirely on Rafe, waiting for him to introduce you. He glanced down at you, his eyes flickering with amusement before turning back to the woman. “Oh, this is my friend, Y/n. Y/n this is Mrs. uh... Miss Robinson. Hollis” Rafe said, barely sparing you a second glance as he introduced you with that casual tone, like your presence was nothing out of the ordinary.

Your friend. The word stung, and you fought to keep the irritation off your face, offering the woman a tight-lipped smile. She didn’t seem to notice the tension in your posture, only giving you a polite nod before turning back to Rafe. “Nice to meet you,” You say, being polite as you push down the feelings. "Pleasure is mine, Y/n," she said in a silky voice, her eyes still lingering on him.

“I hope we can stay in touch?” The woman says. “Yeah, sure” Rafe replied with a smile, his voice low and smooth. You stood there, feeling like an outsider as the two exchanged one last glance before she turned to leave, her heels clicking softly against the stone patio. Once she was gone, you turned to Rafe, eyebrows raised, not even trying to hide the edge in your voice.

“Who was that?” you asked, your finger tapping on the table as you looked up at him. Rafe took a sip of his drink, leaning back against the table with a relaxed smirk playing on his lips. “Uh Hollis Robinson. Biggest realtor on the island,” he said nonchalantly. “And, you know, the biggest cougar too.” You blinked, letting that sink in.

“Oh,” you said, your tone flat, but you couldn’t ignore the prickling feeling of jealousy creeping up your spine. You knew Rafe was teasing—he always did—but something about the way she’d looked at him, and the fact that he introduced you as just a friend, was digging under your skin. He noticed the shift in your expression immediately and that smirk only widened.

“What?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement, “you jealous?” You let out a soft scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Should I be, friend?” you shot back, your voice mocking as you threw his words back at him. You crossed your arms tighter, trying to hide the heat rising in your chest. Rafe chuckled, that lazy grin of his not faltering for a second. “I mean…” he started, glancing in the direction Hollis had gone, his tone teasing before he glances down at your body.

“Depends on what she’s offering.” Your eyes widened slightly in disbelief, and you instinctively reached out to shove his chest, a playful but annoyed push. He barely budged, still grinning like he found the whole situation entertaining. “You’re such an ass,” you muttered, rolling your eyes again, though this time a small smile tugged at your lips.

“I’m joking, babe, I’m joking,” Rafe laughed, grabbing your wrist gently before you could turn away from him. “Come on, you know that.” You tried to maintain your annoyed expression, but when his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into him, the warmth of his body melting the last of your resistance, you let out a sigh.

“I hate you,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice muffled as you pressed your cheek to his shirt. He chuckled softly, resting his chin on top of your head as his arms held you close. “No, you don’t,” he said with that infuriating confidence, his voice soft but teasing as always. “You just hate that I get under your skin.”

You couldn’t argue with that. There was something about Rafe that always managed to push your buttons, and as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, moments like this made it impossible. His arms around you, his teasing words… It was almost like he knew exactly what you needed to hear.

You rolled your eyes one last time, but your voice was softer now. “You really are the worst, you know that?” Rafe just laughed again, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” You didn’t respond, but the way you let yourself relax against him said enough.

Rafe’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched you, and for a second, you thought about pushing him away again. But the warmth of his embrace and that stupid grin on his face kept you rooted where you stood. "Hollis Robinson, huh? a cougar?" you muttered, looking up at him.

Rafe shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Yep. She’s been around forever. Works her charm with all the guys." You look away, biting your lip lightly, "Well, did she?" You lock eyes with him as he furrows his eyebrows lightly. "Did what?" He questions with a hint of confusion in his tone.

You trail your hands up his chest, stopping at his neck, Rafe's eyes followed. "Y'know... Work her charm on you." Rafe smirked, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't turned on right now. "Dunno, guess so," He teased, his voice low and playful. You scoffed, shoving his chest harder this time, though he barely flinched.

"Jerk," you snapped, the annoyance now mixing with a hint of amusement you couldn’t fully suppress. Rafe laughed, catching your wrist in his hand again, but this time he held on tighter, pulling you closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Relax, baby. She's like the same age as Rose and that's fucking weird."

The sincerity in his voice, however playful, made your frustration melt away just a little. His arms snaked around your waist once more, pulling you back into the warmth of his chest. "I’m not that easy to replace," you muttered, still annoyed but leaning into him slightly. "No one’s saying you are," Rafe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Now, come on, admit it—you hate it when I mess with you, but you love me." You let out a sigh, a small smile creeping back onto your face despite your best efforts. "You’re impossible," you mumbled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. He squeezed you a little tighter, his breath warm against your hair. "Yeah, but you wouldn’t want me any other way."

[punkshort]

First Impressions

Thanks anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.

Warnings: language, some fluff, the stress and fear that comes with living in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse, competency kink (a little), smut (18+ MDNI), dirty talk

WC: 4.2K

Adjusting to life in Jackson was tough. You had been on your own for so long, you found it nearly impossible to ever fully relax. You were grateful Tommy and Maria took you in after one of their patrols stumbled across you freezing in the thick Wyoming wilderness, but to be yanked from the brink of death and dropped into some thriving community that seemingly even managed to still celebrate the holidays was too jarring.

So, you kept to yourself for a while. You pitched in around the stables. It was where you felt most comfortable: less people, more animals. You didn't go to the dining hall to eat and you didn't visit the bar for a drink. You had a clear cut path from your house to the stables and back, and you rarely ever strayed.

Unfortunately, while Jackson had a lot to offer and did incredibly well at reviving civilization, things still did break. Like your space heater.

You piled on extra blankets for a week, and then you moved to the living room to sleep on the tiny sofa in front of the fireplace, but eventually your back was screaming at you for it and the cold weather wouldn't let up for at least another two months, so you had no choice but to ask for help.

Tommy was shocked you hadn't said something sooner and apologized for making you feel like you couldn't ask for help, even though it wasn't at all his fault or anyone else's except your own, and promised to have his brother stop by that afternoon to take a look at it.

While you kept to yourself and hardly socialized at all, that didn't stop you from overhearing things at the stables. You knew of Tommy's brother. How people whispered rumors behind his back and fell silent whenever he stepped foot inside the building.

Did you know he slit a raider's throat and made the guy's girlfriend watch?

He beat the shit out of Seth the other night just for looking at him wrong.

Back in Boston, I heard he knocked some guy's teeth down his throat for taking the last of the beef jerky.

Someone told me he only sleeps two hours a night.

He fixed Greg's shower and told him not to fuck it up again or else he'll be taking baths in the kitchen sink.

Were you intimidated? Maybe a little. But you had been on your own for so long, fighting and scratching and clawing to stay alive. Some asshole wasn't going to shake you up.

Then you saw him.

Well, you'd seen him before, sure. But just glimpses in the barn or passing by him on the street. Never up close.

When you opened your front door later that afternoon, you were a little taken aback. He was so much more handsome than you had thought. He was built like a refrigerator; broad and strong. His cheeks and chin were dusted in a patchy, greying beard, growing right below a hooked nose and deep, velvety brown eyes. There were a few scars littering his bronzed skin but what drew your attention more was his hair. His fucking hair. Loose, mostly grey curls that fell past his ear and down the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, like Tommy, but give it a few more months and he might. He had them pushed back from his face, making the silken locks look like a cascading river so enticing, you had to hold yourself back from touching them.

He said your name and readjusted the toolbox in his hand and you blinked yourself back to life before stepping aside to let him in. When he passed you, you were hit with the strong scent of wood shavings and coffee, an intoxicating combination that had your brain buffering once again.

"Tommy said you needed your heater looked at?"

You nodded and pointed up the stairs. "It's in my bedroom. Can I, uh, get you something to drink? Coffee?"

He perked up at that once he slid off his jacket and shoes. "You got coffee?"

You nodded and walked toward the kitchen, rummaging through your meager belongings until you found the precious tin can. "That's the one thing I always made sure I grabbed if I ever saw it out there. If we have to live like this, at least I'm still having my coffee."

Joel grinned and set the toolbox down on your counter, watching as you filled up a kettle with water. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that your stupid heater broke, giving him the perfect excuse to finally meet you so he could stop pining from afar. "You don't like it much here, then?"

You startled at that, giving him a look of surprise before lighting your stove.

"No, I didn't mean here, I just meant... you know... the world in general."

"I know, I'm just teasin' you," he said a little awkwardly with a soft chuckle. You turned around, leaning against your counter and crossing your arms over your chest. You had just spoken a few words but so far, nothing about this man screamed scary. In fact, he seemed rather... sweet.

"How long have you been here?" you asked while you waited for the water to boil.

"'Bout five years," he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "You're new, though."

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting underneath your bicep. "Yeah. I think it's been almost a month. I'm not really sure, never bothered keeping track of the days out there."

Joel studied you up for a moment, picking up on your eyes shifting over your surroundings, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor, and the way you kept your back protected when you spoke to him.

"I remember when we first got here," Joel said. Your fidgeting paused and you looked at him again. "It was tough. Acclimatin' to this kind of life. Hard to sleep. Hard to trust anyone. It took time but eventually, you start sleepin' soundly again and that guard comes down. You'll see."

A slow smile spread across your face and you looked down shyly at your feet. "Am I that obvious?"

Joel laughed and strolled over to the two mugs and can of instant coffee you had sitting out. "Wouldn't say it's obvious but I haven't seen you at the dining hall one time. In fact, pretty sure this is the first time I've heard your voice." Your cheeks warmed up behind his back and you bit your lower lip. So he's noticed you enough to realize you never went to the dining hall.

"It's a pretty one," he said over his shoulder, focusing on scooping the correct amount of coffee into each mug. "Your voice, I mean. Shame you been keepin' it hidden all this time."

"O-oh," you stuttered, completely flustered by his compliments. This was not at all the man everyone made him out to be. "Thank you."

Joel carefully poured the boiling water into each mug before giving them each a stir, then handed you one. "You're welcome, darlin'. Now why don't you show me to your bedroom?"

Your eyes must have bugged out of your head because at first, he frowned, then after he realized what he said, turned a shade of pink you didn't know he was capable of.

"I mean, for the heater."

"Yeah, oh Christ, I know," you said, waving him off and heading for the stairs, your mug clutched so tightly in one hand you thought it might break. You lead Joel to the first door on the left and stepped back so he had room to swing his toolbox through the narrow door with him.

"I don't know what happened," you said, trailing in after him while he began to set out some tools on the ground. When he knelt down, he groaned at the creak in his knees and you quickly grabbed a spare pillow. "Here, kneel on this," you offered. He looked up at the pillow, then at you, and shook his head.

"I ain't kneelin' on your pillow."

"It's a spare. I only use the one. And honestly, even that seems too much sometimes."

He sighed and hesitated for only a moment longer before taking the pillow from your hand. "Thank you," he said softly. You smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed after putting your coffee on the end table with his.

"Anyway. As I was saying, I don't know what happened. It was working fine and then one day it just wouldn't turn on. I tried other outlets and I didn't see any issues with the cord, so I just gave up."

Joel began to unscrew the back of the heater while he listened. "So you gave up and slept in the cold for two weeks?"

"Nothing I wasn't used to."

He couldn't argue with that.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while he worked until he began to hum some old country song under his breath, making you smile again. You couldn't remember the last time you smiled so much.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"You aren't at all the way people say you are," you said boldly.

He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention back to his work. "And what have you heard?"

You shrugged and leaned back on your hands. "Threatened a man after breaking his shower. Knocked out some guy named Seth. That you only sleep two hours a night," you chuckled at the last one when you heard how silly it sounded.

"Well," Joel said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't threaten anyone about their shower. Just reminded him he's gotta take care of the pipes or else the whole place'll rot."

You grinned to yourself as he continued to explain the rumors.

"I did punch Seth but he said somethin' real nasty 'bout my girl and, well, that just don't sit right with me."

Your grin slid right off your face. "Your girl?"

He stopped what he was doing and swiveled around to face you. "My - Ellie. Her name's Ellie. She's, uh, well... she ain't my daughter, but..."

Relief flooded your veins. "Oh. I thought you meant -"

"No, no," Joel said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "No, not like that." He twirled a wrench around in between his fingers as he nervously bit the inside of his cheek before adding, "Don't got anyone like that."

Your mouth formed a silent oh. Message received.

Joel cleared his throat again and turned back to the heater. "And the sleep thing, well, they got me there," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "Although some nights are better than others."

"I know what you mean," you said with a nod. After a moment of silence, Joel smiled to himself.

"Imagine y'do if you ain't got any heat at night."

You giggled and he smiled again, this time his chest swelling when he heard you laugh.

Joel continued to work on the heater while you studied him quietly. He took you by complete surprise. The last thing you expected was to make a friend out of the fearsome Joel Miller. It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes, either. How old was he? Your gaze roamed over his greying hair and the crinkles next to his eyes. Older than you, definitely, but it was hard to tell by how much.

You couldn't even remember the last time you were interested in anyone. It must have been when you were in the Atlanta QZ, and that was years ago.

"Alright, let's give her a run," Joel suddenly said. When you refocused on him, you saw he had put the heater back together and was fixing it upright. He plugged it into the wall and hovered his finger over the power button before glancing back at you. "Ready?"

You nodded and swung your legs back and forth over the edge of your bed, then he winked at you, sending warmth all over your body. Jesus, if Joel kept giving you little looks like that, you wouldn't have much need for a heater anymore.

He pressed the button and sure enough, the coils inside the heater began to glow orange and heat started to fill the room.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping off the bed in excitement. "Thank you!" you added, kneeling on the floor as well so you could warm your hands in front of the heater.

"Anytime," Joel murmured, and it wasn't until you heard the deep timber of his voice next to you that you realized he was so close. You tilted your face, smiling shyly at him next to you. Up close, you could see the fine lines in his face in much more detail, each one calling out to you to trace with your fingertip. When you met his gaze, you found he had been examining you, as well. Quickly, you looked away and stood up.

"Is there anythin' else?" Joel asked as he began to pack up his toolbox. You shook your head.

"No, I think that'll do it."

"You sure? Thought I saw that faucet drippin' in the kitchen."

You frowned. "No, I didn't notice that," you said slowly.

"What 'bout those windows?" he asked, standing up with a grunt and gesturing to the two bedroom windows on the other side of the room. "Need help hangin' curtains?"

You looked where he was pointing. "No, never really bothered me. Besides, it faces the backyard. No one can see in."

He laughed softly and rubbed his chin before shooting you a sheepish look. "I'm tryin' to find a reason to stay, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened and once again, you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Oh," you said, shyly dropping your gaze to the floor to hide your smile. "I would like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah. You're, um," you shifted your weight nervously, "you're sweet. And nice."

Joel huffed and set his toolbox back down. "I ain't nice all the time," he warned. "But you ain't gotta worry 'bout that."

"No?" you questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to close the distance between you.

He sighed and cupped your face with both hands. Your body instantly melted at his touch, your knees practically giving out when he dragged his thumb across your lip, saving it from your teeth. "Am I readin' this wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting all over your face. You quickly shook your head and stepped even closer.

"Thank Christ," he breathed before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It had been several years and you were a little rusty, but you quickly found it was like riding a bike.

Joel's kiss lit a fire in you, one that had gone dormant for so long. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his flannel, the material warm and soft, just like him, and with the confidence boost that came from his hands dropping to grab excitedly at your hips, you walked him backwards until he bumped against the edge of your mattress.

He sat down on your bed with an oomph and you crawled into his lap, not once breaking the kiss.

"Wish I got to know you sooner," he whispered, tipping his head back when your lips traveled down his neck. Fuck, even his neck was sexy. "Always so skittish and shy," he continued, his palms gliding up and down your back.

You laughed softly against his skin and leaned back. "You still don't really know me."

He grinned and shrugged. "I'd like to, if you're willin'," he said, his vulnerability making your chest ache. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip again and nodded.

"Good," he said, his hands roaming further past your waist to cup your ass. "'Cause I like what I know so far."

"You're full of surprises," you told him, giggling when he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "You're so much more... you're more gentle and sweet than I expected."

Joel smirked and tugged you closer so you felt his erection trapped within his jeans. "I can be gentle," he told you, nipping at your jaw. "Or I can be rough. Whatever you like."

You swallowed when you caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," he said, and before you could blink he had spun you around so your back was pressed into the mattress while he hovered above you. You had to admit, he was adorable. He had to be pushing sixty but he was talking like a man half his age. After you heard the way his knees creaked when he was fixing your heater, you figured he was all talk, or maybe he just needed the ego boost to hype himself up.

But the speed in which he removed your clothes should have been the first sign that your impression of him was wrong. When he buried himself inside you, his surprisingly thick length stretching you open and nudging the furthest depths of you, you got the message.

When you gasped and tipped your head back, his big hand immediately rose to cup the side of your face and tilt it back down so he could watch your face as you unraveled beneath him. Each little noise and moan seemed to egg him on, like he fed off your sounds and the way your face twisted in pleasure when his coarse hair rubbed against your clit with each roll of his hips.

"Wanna see you," he explained, eyes scanning all over your face. "Wanna watch you take it. You'll keep your eyes on me, won't you? Hm? You'll be good for me, yeah?"

You nodded, your mind a muddled mess. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the slow and deliberate drag of his heavy cock in and out of you. Joel pressed your knees back against your chest as far as you could handle and pushed inside you further with a rough grunt. He managed to get so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach and the sensation left you breathless.

"So fuckin' pretty, y'know that?" he groaned, gazing down at you without breaking rhythm. His long locks loosened and hung past his eyes, tempting you to smooth them back. "Wanted to get to know you f'so long but I couldn't ever catch your eye," he admitted with a little smirk. You moaned when his hips began to swirl, switching the angle ever so slightly and setting your nerves alight.

"I-I... oh, god," you whined, already struggling to keep your eyes on him like he asked. "I didn't know."

He lunged forward and crashed his mouth against yours hungrily, his exhale fanning over your cheek. Then just as suddenly as he kissed you, he leaned back and pulled out.

"Turn over," he instructed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in air. You did as you were told and shakily held yourself up on your hands and knees.

"Fuck," he muttered behind you. Your face went hot and you tucked your chin into your shoulder as you waited for him to enter you again, but he chose to take an extra minute to glide his hand over the curves of your hips and ass. If you had been able to see him, you would have seen a look of awe and appreciation on his face.

"Always wondered what you had hidden under all those clothes," he said as he lined himself up at your entrance. You cried out his name when he finally slid back inside, the angle already too intense and he hadn't even begun to move. "Goddamn, wanna run my tongue over every fuckin' inch of you, baby," he growled, fingers gripping your sides as he tried to ground himself.

He gave you a few gentle thrusts to get used to it before he couldn't hold back any longer. He pounded into you, his eyes fixed on your ass and the way it bounced with every snap of his hips. One hand slowly reached down to trace your spine, marveling at the way your body welcomed him. Then you arched your back and you both moaned at the slight change and he could feel his stomach begin to tense in anticipation of his release.

"So fuckin' tight," he said through clenched teeth. You could hear him breathing heavily as his thrusts grew sloppy and you began to panic, sensing he was about to come before you were ready. But then as if he read your mind, one of his hands snaked around your front to draw fast circles over your clit.

"C'mon, give it t'me," he said with a grunt. "Wanna feel this perfect pussy squeeze me, want you to be feelin' me for fuckin' days, sweetheart."

"Oh, shit," you gasped, mouth hanging open in a mixture of ecstasy and surprise. You wondered how on earth everyone in town had so much to say about Joel's reputation but somehow managed to leave out how mind-blowing he happened to be in bed.

"Christ, honey. Ain't gonna last much longer," he groaned, his fingers working even faster between your legs. He pounded into you harder, punching the air from your lungs and pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your breaths were coming in shallow pants and you could feel the swell building deep inside you, threatening to unleash at any second. You reached behind you frantically, searching for some part of him to hold onto when you found his hand pressed firmly onto your hip. Your fingers clasped over his as you felt the pressure build up quickly and you knew in that moment this one encounter was going to single-handedly ruin you.

The moment you fell apart while practically screaming his name, your cunt pulsing around him and your body shaking, he almost made a huge mistake. Finally getting to witness what you looked like when you came was more than enough, but hearing his name over and over while your body shook with pleasure? It was too much and he was only just a man who was holding on by his goddamn fingernails as it was. But fortunately, he managed to pull out just in time to paint your lower back with his cum. He knew he was making some ungodly sounds as relief flooded his veins, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been daydreaming about taking you apart like that for weeks and now that he finally had you, there was no turning back.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, lifting his chin towards the ceiling while dragging in deep lungfuls of air. You collapsed flat onto your stomach with a grunt and he tilted his face back down to grin as how spent you looked.

Still got it.

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he told you. You mumbled something tiredly in response before he slipped out of your room to get a washcloth from your bathroom and returned quickly to clean you up.

"Thank you," you said, turning your face so you could watch him gently wipe up his mess. His eyes flickered to yours and he smirked.

"You thankin' me for fixin' the heater, for fuckin' you, or for cleanin' you up?"

You giggled, your voice a little hoarse when you replied, "All of the above."

You flipped over onto your back and his eyes immediately drifted down your naked body, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how perfect you were. Even better than he ever imagined.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the rag fall to the floor so he could glide his hand up your thigh, over your hips and stomach to one of your breasts which, he realized far too late, had gone neglected. Next time.

"So are you," you whispered back, bringing a hand up to play with the long curls resting on the back of his neck. He shook his head shyly and looked away.

"I need a haircut."

"I like it just the way it is," you told him, twisting a lock of hair around one finger and watching as it loosely bounced back when you let it go. "Gives me something to grab onto," you joked. A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes looked like he was staring at the tree on Christmas morning.

"So, uh," Joel began when the silence stretched on for too long. "I meant it earlier. 'Bout gettin' to know you better." He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous. He could feel his face heating up and he prayed you didn't notice. "I know you don't like goin' to the dining hall but I'd really like to have dinner with you. I can't make much but I can make stew, if y'wanna-"

"I would go to the dining hall with you," you said, cutting him off. His eyes snapped back up to yours and he shot you a nervous smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a little shrug before sitting up and draping your arms around his shoulders. "As long as you're there, I'll go."

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you, still in complete disbelief his wildest fantasy actually came true.

"How 'bout tomorrow, then?" he asked a little breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded. "It's a date."

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[yieldtotemptation]

DEALS ft. Miyeon

... is this thing on?

written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.

miyeon x male reader smut

2k words

"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."

The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.

"Okay."

"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"

"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."

"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.

Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.

That was until now.

Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.

It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.

"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.

"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."

It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.

She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.

Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.

"Look at me."

Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.

Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.

"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"

You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.

She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.

"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.

It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.

That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.

"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."

A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.

Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.

Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.

She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.

And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.

"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.

You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.

It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."

But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.

She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.

"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."

"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.

"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."

She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.

It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.

You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.

It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.

Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.

Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.

You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.

"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."

You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.

It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.

And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.

"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."

"Fuck, Miyeon."

But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."

And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.

“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”

You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.

Because why wouldn't you?

That was your deal.

---

A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, momentary mean! Steve, established relationship, lil bit of angst, PIV sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, hate sex turned make up sex WC:2.2K

A/N: Why not? Enjoy!

"So we're still fighting, huh?", Steve narrows his eyes at you from the kitchen entry way.

He's a picture of disarray — shirt misbuttoned, belt buckle in need of fastening, tie draped loosely over his shoulders and hair a wild, mussed up mess.

His unruly state came to be as a result of forgetting to set his alarm after your heated exchange last night, waking to find he was running late for work and you hadn't bothered to rouse him like you usually would have.

His sarcastic barb goes seemingly unheard though when you refuse to look up from the dishes you're scrubbing in the sink, back still turned to him even though the crumbs from your breakfast of blueberry jam on toast have long been washed clean from your plate.

It was a disagreement blown out of proportion that had caused the friction between you two. Steve had hoped sleeping it off would help to cool your tempers enough to reconcile in the morning but now that seems as likely as him making it to work on time.

Or was it?

He sighs, a clear note of irritation coming through because he should be digging through the laundry basket in search of his socks before he tries to shove his feet inside his shoes without them again in his rush, not rooted in place, eyes dark and stony but taking you in.

Of course you'd try to give him blue balls on top of it all too.

He grits his teeth as he stares at you in your too short satin robe, every inch of your legs and thighs on display as the hem hangs high, just a few inches below the swell of your ass. Practically dangling yourself in front of him.

He enters the kitchen then and though it feels risky approaching you the way that he does, he recognizes that the air's thick with a familiar kind of tension when he comes up behind you.

Quickly and none too gently, he rucks up your robe to confirm a suspicion he'd been harboring. He finds you're nude underneath the thin, silky layer when you allow him just a glimpse, swatting his hand away with a look sharper than a knife's edge when your eyes connect with his over your shoulder.

But Steve knows better than to take it seriously. There's no ire behind your glare — no unspoken threat meant to make him retreat. You're still mad, sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of you just as it's made his own skin warm but your expression softens just enough to confirm that what you really want is for him to come closer. And that's exactly what he does.

You feel the warmth of Steve's chest pressing against your back when you turn to the sink once more, his arms caging you in place, leaving you no room to escape. The water continues to run until he closes the faucet too, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "This how you want to solve it?", he asks, pulling his hand back to lift your robe again only this time you don't attempt to thwart him, letting him cup your ass and squeeze your soft skin. Hard.

The heat of last night's fight had died down to a simmer but it left you both burning in a different, much more familiar way as you answer him.

"Yeah. This is how I want to do it", you utter loud enough for him to hear you clearly though this close together, there's nothing he can miss no matter how softly you might whisper it.

The sound of his belt coming undone has you buzzing beneath your skin while you brace yourself, curling your fingers under the edge of the countertop as Steve finishes pulling out his girthy cock. But before he even attempts to get it anywhere near your entrance he holds out his palm to you, knowing that he doesn't need to ask for you to spit into it, something that feels instinctual now at this stage in your relationship as he draws it back and slicks up his cock with your saliva.

With his length coated in a warm, glossy mixture of your spit and his precum, Steve doesn't keep you waiting for long, your legs parting to help with easing the tip of his cock in.

"Does it hurt?", he asks and while it might sound like he's only concerned about you, you can hear the heat still present in his veins.

"A little", You answer with a little heat of your own, no intention of asking him to stop.

"Good. I know you can take it", he tells you, all thorns and shit eating grins.

It doesn't happen as easily as when you two take the time to engage in foreplay first, your body usually opening up to accept him once he's gotten you ready with his tongue or fingers but this time Steve manages to notch his tip by your hole and breach you once it pops inside with a little effort, the rest of him slowly sinking inch by inch into your velvet heat.

Despite the wetness that smears your inner thighs, your whole body tenses and you have to breathe through it, pain marrying pleasure while you're being stretched open, hissing under your breath when he reaches his base. He spends a few seconds all the way inside you, just feeling you wrap around him and squeeze, your walls pulsing when he decides that's as soft as he'll allow himself to be with you today.

And he proves it when he begins pulling himself out, only to grit his teeth and drive himself back in again, making you squeal instantly, getting you thoroughly acquainted with the feeling and the force of every thrust as his pelvis bounces against your ass.

Steve so rarely ever fucks you like this and you're so caught up in taking his cock that you barely notice the way he reaches up to pull the front of your robe open too, realizing what he's done when he finds your nipples and begins to pinch and tug on them, smirking when it draws a high pitched whimper out of you as your steady breathing turns to shallow pants.

But you're not some delicate flower type. You're not one to be so compliant and let him ruin you so easily. So while Steve's busy fondling your chest you're quick to even the score when you grab hold of his right hand, lifting it up to your mouth so you can sink your teeth into the soft skin between his thumb and his wrist.

The pained hiss turned groan he lets out despite himself is a small victory but a sweet one nonetheless, enough to make you smile around his throbbing hand before deciding to remove your teeth from him, making sure to scoff at him all smug as he rubs at the little red teeth marks left behind on his tan skin.

Of course he takes it as well as a throatful of glass, considering the act a challenge for more.

Steve offers you one small moment of respite, slowly pulling almost all the way out, making sure his swollen tip remains inside you while you sigh, only to make you choke on a moan when he pushes all the way inside again in a single hard thrust, punching the air out of you.

You wanted to retaliate again, maybe reach behind to sink your nails into his thigh, scraping at his skin until narrow lines or blood rise to the surface or even rip at the clothes that hang on him in his state of half undress but you're unable to follow through this time with how he's managed to rattle you.

Steve's far too pleased to feel your elbows start to shake as your arms struggle to keep you up at this point, set on making your knees wobble too just so he can gloat about it later when you find it difficult to pick yourself up off the kitchen floor and walk away once he's done with you.

Slowly, Steve withdraws again, glee lighting up his eyes when he pushes back in with the same force of that first sharp thrust and this time you fail to stop a short scream from ripping out of your throat, back arching from how well and hard he's pressing against that spot deep inside you.

"Something you wanna say, sweetheart?", he sneers and taunts, pleased when you struggle to put together a coherent sentence while trying to endure his unforgiving pace. "Spit it out before I stop being so nice."

You muster what you can and manage to whimper it out, feeling so worn out though you haven't even reached your climax yet.

"Cum inside me. Please", you tell him — beg him, fingers turning cold and numb from how hard your grasping the countertop.

He's nothing short of cocky when he hears you whine all desperate and spent, a smug sense of accomplishment washing over him when he sees the thick coating of slick and cream you've left on his cock as he watches it withdraw and disappear inside you one harsh thrust after the other.

And then you tell him the rest.

"M—miss you when you're gone. Need to —ngh. Need to feel you in me when you're not here", you manage to string the words together before letting out a sound that's somewhere between a gasp and a whine, the kind he'll think about later on his own, working himself up until he's got no choice but to pry it out of you again.

But this isn't one of those moments, no matter how much he'd liked the sounds falling from your parted, panting lips.

Steve loses his rhythm before he stills completely inside you, your words sinking in like nails piercing his skin.

This was it. The crux of last night's argument.

You missed Steve. He'd been working too hard lately and you'd grown concerned. With the stress of his job and the little sleep he'd had he'd grown defensive and you'd gotten irritated, both of you clashing when you should have been listening and working together.

When he had woken up this morning Steve had cooled down enough to know he'd been unfair to you the night before. He was usually the type to talk things out but he'd gotten swept up in how things happened to pan out today, wrapping an arm around you tenderly, the hand you'd bitten placed over your thumping heart. He nuzzles his chin onto your shoulder to get closer to you, the stubble he'd been unable to shave this morning scratching against your skin gently as he whispers into your ear with so much sincerity.

"I'm sorry— I'm so sorry."

The sound of him all earnest and ragged makes you melt in his hold because you know how much he means it — you can practically feel how much he means it as it sinks into your skin and reaches into your ribcage.

Like Steve, you would have been open to talking it out had this been a regular fight. This particular fight however had you dumping more fuel on to the fire that roared between you because it required more than just words to resolve everything. It needed more than swapped apologies for the two of you to make amends and return back to normal.

You really needed to fuck it out. All teeth and nails and sore, spent bodies.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too", you answer, a smile growing on your parted, panting lips. "Now fuck me, will you?"

It catches Steve off guard enough to make him snort, thankful that the worst of your fight is behind you now as he starts to pick up the pace again, firm but also tender with the way his lips move against your neck and his fingers brush and roll at your nipples.

"Going to make it up to you, baby. Gonna be around more. Gonna be here for you, okay?", he pants against your skin, all gravelly groans and grunts with his nails digging into the skin on your waist.

You moan out his name, using what little strength you feel you have left to push yourself back to meet his thrusts. "Steve, oh fuck... I'm so close. I need you— I fucking need you, please."

He snaps his hips against your ass again, drawing out a blissful shudder out of you. "Gonna make it all right but until then—", you feel him draw away from you a little bit then, his hands leaving your body as you realize that he's going through his pockets.

With his cock still buried inside you and throbbing, he pulls out his phone and begins dialing, his thrusts commencing again, steady and deep enough to make your whole body draw tight, your release within reach.

"Try to keep it down while I call in sick, okay? Gonna have you all to myself today. Promise I'll keep you nice and full— gonna look so beautiful when you're dripping with me..."

[thef1diary]

Fill Me Up | C. Sainz

Kinktober 5/11 - Breeding Kink

Summary: Your husband, Carlos, realizes how much he wants to see you pregnant with his baby.

warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of pregnancy obvs, unprotected sex, husband!carlos, lil bit of body worship

wc: 3.2k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The Mediterranean air was cool as it drifted through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of the sea into the bedroom. The soft sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below your villa was the only noise breaking the peaceful silence. 

You lay nestled against your husband’s chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling you into a serene haze. His arm rested lazily over your waist, fingertips grazing your skin underneath your blouse in absentminded circles. The room was awash in the amber glow of the setting sun, casting shadows that danced lazily across the walls, making everything feel soft and intimate. 

Carlos murmured your name softly, the rich, deep timbre of his voice stirring something in you as it always did. His accent, thick and sultry, curled around each syllable like a caress. You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

“Have you ever thought about what’s next for us?” He asked, his voice gentle but laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of anticipation. 

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as you propped yourself up on one elbow, searching his face. “What’s on your mind, love?” you teased, your lips curving into a grin. “I mean, I already have a ridiculously handsome husband who spoils me to no end… what more could there be?”

Carlos let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head while a smile graced his lips. “I love spoiling you, cariño.”

You leaned in, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of his nose. “Mhm, I know,” you murmured against his skin, feeling the warmth of his smile as he grasped your left hand, his thumb brushing over the diamond that glistened in the fading sunlight. 

His gaze dropped to your ring finger, lingering there as his expression softened. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of the ring, where it met your skin. 

“I love spoiling you,” he repeated, his voice lower now, more serious. “But there’s something else I’ve been thinking about.”

The shift in his tone made your heart skip a beat. You tilted your head, searching his eyes, feeling the sudden intensity of the moment. “What is it, Carlos?”

“I’ve been thinking…” he began, his words deliberate, measured. “About spoiling someone else, too.” His eyes flickered with meaning, the weight of his words hanging between you.

You felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest, your breath catching in your throat as the implication of what he was saying began to sink in. “Someone else?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, already sensing where this conversation was leading.

Carlos nodded, his thumb still tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I want to spoil our child, cariño,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “I want to start a family with you.” 

The words hung in the air, charged with the same magnetic energy that always seemed to exist between you and him. You blinked, a thousand emotions swirling inside you all at once—surprise, excitement, desire, and that unmistakable longing that had been quietly growing within you, even if you hadn’t fully acknowledged it until now.

Carlos shifted underneath you, his hand sliding from your palm to rest on your stomach, his touch warm and possessive. “I want to see you carrying our baby,” he whispered, leaning forward just enough for his lips to graze your temple. “Want to give you everything… including the family we’ve always dreamt of.” 

You took a deep breath, your hand coming to rest over his where it splayed across your stomach. “I’ve thought about it too,” you confessed, your voice low and thick with emotion. “Maybe a couple of kids… hopefully with your fluffy hair and those big brown eyes. Getting to see you become a father… that’s always been the plan.”

Carlos’ grip tightened slightly as you spoke, his gaze locked on yours with a fire that made your heart race. But even as you spoke, you couldn’t help the question bubbling up inside you, the slight confusion that tinged the edges of your joy. “But… where did this suddenly come from?”

His hand slid lower on your waist as he gently maneuvered you onto his lap, his back resting against the headboard. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his chest. The new position made your heart pound faster, the intimacy of it filling you with warmth.

He didn’t respond, which caused you to lean back a bit, narrowing your eyes as you pressed the back of your hand against his forehead, pretending to check for a fever.  

“Are you feeling okay?” you teased, your voice light and full of mock concern. “You’re not running a temperature, are you? Because this doesn’t sound like my Carlos. Last I checked, we were on the ‘wait and see’ plan.”

He let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into that devilishly handsome smile that always made your heart skip a beat. Carlos gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his forehead, but not before pressing a kiss to your palm.

“I’m perfectly fine, cariño,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But you can check me all you want if it means you’ll be this close.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, playfully pushing against his chest, but he was having none of it. His hands slid up your sides, holding you firmly as he leaned forward, gently turning you on your back. The cool sheets beneath you contrasted with the heat of his body hovering above, and your pulse quickened, the intensity between you crackling like electricity in the air.

He looked down at you, his gaze locking onto yours while his hands, firm and sure, settled on either side of your head, caging you in as he lowered himself just enough for his breath to ghost over your lips.

“Do you want this too?” Carlos’ voice was low, a husky murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. 

Without hesitation, you reached up, threading your fingers through his thick, dark hair, pulling him down until your lips met in a searing kiss. The hunger in it was undeniable, your body arching up into him as you deepened the kiss, tasting the desire and the promise in his every move. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you stared up into his eyes, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with every ounce of need you felt.

“Put a baby in me,” you murmured, your words bold and breathless as your hand trailed down his back, fingers grazing over the toned muscles that tensed under your touch. “Right here… right now. I want it, Carlos. I want everything with you.”

Carlos let out a low, guttural moan at your words, his hips pressing hard against yours, his control slipping as you felt the full weight of his desire through his pants. 

“Dios, cariño… you’re going to look so perfect, carrying our baby,” he mumbled, his voice rough and dripping with lust.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding down your sides to tug at your clothes, pulling them away from your body as fast as he could. The cool air hit your skin, but you barely felt it—your body burning for him, for the promise he’d whispered into your ear.

Carlos’ gaze lingered as his hands roamed over your bare skin, rough fingers tracing a path from your collarbone to the soft curve of your breasts. His breath hitched, eyes darkening with desire as he cupped you gently, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making you arch into his touch.

“Look at you…” he murmured, his voice low and filled with reverence as he massaged your breasts, his touch both tender and possessive. “You’re already so perfect… but when you’re pregnant, cariño…” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the hunger there made your pulse race. “Your tits will be even fuller, and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

His words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, your body responding instantly to the way he worshipped you. Carlos leaned down, his lips grazing your skin as he kissed the tops of your breasts, his breath warm and ragged against you.

“They’ll be sensitive… aching for me to relieve the pain,” he continued, his voice rough as he squeezed you gently, his thumbs teasing your nipples until you gasped. “And I’ll be there to make sure you feel good… every single day.”

A low moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping his biceps as he continued his slow, deliberate worship of your body, each word from his mouth stoking the fire building inside you.

Carlos lifted his head, his lips brushing yours in a soft, fleeting kiss before he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours once more. “You want that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. “You want to feel me inside you, filling you up until you’re carrying my baby… until your body is mine in every way.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you arched up, pressing your chest against his, needing more of him—needing all of him.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice low and filled with need. “I want it… I want all of it, Carlos. I want you.”

Carlos groaned at your words, his control slipping further as his hands moved lower, gripping your hips as he settled between your legs.

“I’m going to give it to you,” he whispered, his voice dark and full of promise. “You’re going to feel me, every inch of me, until I’m deep inside you… filling you up.”

You moaned at the raw intensity of his words, your hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to be consumed by him.

Your hands moved with urgency, sliding down his back before pushing at his shirt, needing to feel more of his skin beneath your fingertips. Carlos helped you, sitting back for just a moment to pull the fabric over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the toned muscles of his arms. The sight of him, all broad shoulders and strength, made your mouth go dry.

He leaned back down, pressing his lips to your neck as you fumbled with the waistband of his pants. Your fingers trembled slightly, driven by the heat building between you, and Carlos smirked against your skin, his breath hot and teasing.

“Eager, cariño?” he teased, his voice a low rumble against your throat.

You let out a soft laugh, though it was shaky, your fingers finally succeeding in pushing his pants down his hips. “You have no idea,” you murmured back, biting your lip as you felt him, hard and ready, pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Carlos groaned as you reached down, palming him through the material, his hips jerking into your hand in response. “Fuck…” he breathed, his voice rough with need. “You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to take my time with you.”

You smiled, leaning up to nip at his jaw as you slid your hand into his boxers, your fingers wrapping around him, feeling just how much he wanted you. “Who said I wanted you to take your time?” you whispered against his skin.

His hips bucked into your hand at your words, and you could feel him, hard and throbbing against your palm.

Carlos pulled your hand away, pinning it above your head as he lowered himself back down over you, his free hand sliding along your thigh, spreading you open beneath him. “You’re such a tease, but I’ve waited long enough,” he murmured, his voice thick with need as he positioned himself between your legs. “I want you now.”

Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was more intense, more urgent than before. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in his body as he hovered just above you, holding back for only a moment.

And then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he was inside you.

A gasp tore from your lips, your body arching up to meet him as he filled you completely, the feeling of him deep inside making your mind go blank for a second. Carlos groaned low in his throat, his hips grinding against yours as he buried himself to the hilt, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Fuck… you feel so good, so wet” he mumbled, his voice strained with pleasure. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your pulse race. “You’re perfect, cariño. So fucking perfect.”

You moaned softly, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you moved with him, your bodies falling into a slow, steady rhythm that built with each thrust. Every movement sent a new wave of pleasure crashing over you, your body responding to him in ways that left you dizzy and breathless.

His hand slid down to your lower stomach, pressing lightly as he groaned against your skin.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his voice dark and full of desire. “Feel how deep I am inside you… I’m going to fill you up, just like you asked.”

Your breath hitched as Carlos’s hand pressed against your lower stomach, the weight of his touch amplifying the sensation of him buried deep inside you. His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, every syllable dripping with raw desire. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the overwhelming feeling of him—how he filled you completely, pushing you closer to the edge with every movement.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice trembling with need, your fingers clawing at his back as you arched into him. “I feel it… I want it, Carlos. I want you to fill me.”

A low groan escaped him, his hips grinding harder against yours in response to your plea. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, trailing slow, heated kisses as he began to thrust deeper, each movement purposeful and powerful. The friction, the pressure, sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver straight down your spine, making you clench around him. He hummed, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “squeezing me so tight, cariño, I could stay inside you forever.”

Just as you thought the pleasure couldn’t get more intense, Carlos’s hand slipped lower, his fingers finding your clit. He teased you, drawing gentle circles that made you gasp, every touch sending electricity through you. As his fingers worked their magic, he leaned down, his mouth finding your nipple. He licked and nipped at the sensitive peak, his tongue swirling with a heated urgency that drove you wild.

The tension inside you coiled tighter, your body responding to him with every touch, every word. You could feel your release building, the pleasure tightening in your core as Carlos pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to hold on as you lost yourself in him. “Don’t stop, please… I need it.”

“Then cum for me, cariño,” he urged, his fingers never relenting on your clit while his mouth continued to suck and tease your nipple. “I want to feel you break apart around me.”

With the combination of his thrusts, his fingers, and the heat of his mouth, you felt yourself spiraling toward ecstasy, every sensation amplifying until you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Carlos!” you cried out, your body quaking as pleasure washed over you in waves, your orgasm crashing down with an intensity that took your breath away. You felt him groan in response, the sensation of him filling you with his cum driving you even higher as your body clamped around him, squeezing tightly as he rode out your release.

He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still working on your clit until you were completely spent, trembling beneath him as he kissed you softly, his lips lingering over your skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”

For a moment, you both lingered in that afterglow, bodies entwined, breaths mingling as you basked in the warmth of each other. Your fingers drifted over the planes of his back, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath beneath your palm, while his gaze remained fixed on yours, a small, tender smile playing on his lips. He reached up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch featherlight and intimate.

Carlos’ presence enveloped you like a cozy blanket, and the sensation of him deep inside you sent soft waves of pleasure through your body. 

With a slow, deliberate movement, he pulled back, his cock slipping free from your body. The emptiness that followed made you whimper softly in protest, a sound that drew a low chuckle from him as he glanced down at the evidence of your shared pleasure pooling between your thighs.

“We can’t let any of this go to waste,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that resonated through the quiet room. His smirk widened as his fingers traced a path down to the mess between your legs, gathering the remnants of his release. The touch of his warm skin against your sensitive folds sent a shiver coursing through you, and when he pushed the slick mixture back into your clenching heat, you gasped, the intimacy of the act making your pulse quicken.

As he withdrew his fingers, you caught his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. Your gaze locked with his as you wrapped your mouth around his cum-coated fingers, licking them clean with deliberate slowness. 

A playful smile tugged at your lips as you released his hand, your fingers tracing a gentle line along his jaw. “You know,” you murmured, voice low and teasing, “it might take a couple of tries for you to get me pregnant.”

Carlos’ eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and desire, his hand still resting on your hip as he leaned closer, his breath brushing warmly over your lips. “That’s alright,” he replied, his voice a rich, gravelly whisper. “In fact…” His fingers dipped lower, tracing lazy, suggestive circles over your still-sensitive skin, “I’d say the practice is half the fun.” 

Your breath caught as he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss that spoke of lingering hunger. His other hand moved to rest on your lower stomach, and you could still feel the phantom sensation of him filling you, of being stretched and claimed. When he pulled back, his mouth barely an inch from yours, he whispered, “Besides, I plan on savoring every single attempt until we get it just right.”

The promise in his tone sent a thrill racing through you, the implication that this wouldn’t be the last time he would fill you, over and over again, until you were heavy with the proof of his desire.

“Then why don’t we put in a little extra practice tonight?” you murmured, your voice carrying a teasing edge as your fingers traced the line of his jaw. “I want to make sure we get it just right too.”

Taglist: @cheer-bear-go-vroom @ggaslyp1 @nominsgirl @moll1701 @mrs-saturday @teamnovalak @sassy-chan @ruti26-11 @kennysimp101 @falling-feels-like-flying @laeblue @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bountychanti @savewaterdrinkvodka @cloud-55 @aarchiives @holylovercopsludge @black-fireproofs @lazydragonpeach @biancathecool @myownwritings @rebelatbay @ethereal0810 @leclercsluvs @01rrdbull @fallingforfalll2 @lilorose25 @jaeger-chan

[inklore]

does it feel good?

— qimir x f!reader

premise: he is your beginning, the whole reason you have made peace with the darkness inside your head, and you know someday he may become your end. whether by his saber or by him finally consuming completely. you welcome both.

contents: established master x acolyte dynamics, shared force bond, unprotected p in v, foreplay, light choking, biting, scars and burn marks mentioned, death, teasing, over stimulation | wc: 2.7k+

note: i love that we all saw the water scene and went yeah that's for the smut writers. glad we are collectively going insane over this man.

The moons paint the water in a shimmering light that bathes its surface in sapphire that fades to the deepest of blacks the longer you stare into it. The waves that hit against the ragged stones are like a siren call to your aching body. 

Your muscles are still tight and coiled from earlier. Your molars grind together when you lift your arms to pull off your ruined and stained clothes. A burning sensation felt through your body as the fabric covering your torso moved against every burn, cut, and bruise you had acquired tonight. 

You didn’t stop by a reflective surface to check how many battle scars you’d earned. Badges of honor. More wounds worn like metals placed on your neck by a pleased master. Wounds, he’ll help you heal, stitch up, seal with the press of his palm to the tattered skin—stolen supplies from planets you can’t remember the name of with faces you can only remember the dead eyes of, used on the ones that don’t close up right.

The moonlight makes them look less serious. The illumination colored the dried blood and tissue into something misty. Almost tantalizing to the eye. Unlike the light of day, where you’re sure it will look less glamorizing. The ugly truth of the way your skin is going to bubble up and mold over to protect itself once the healing process begins is less glaring in this hue. 

Your toe dips into the water. It’s always warmer than you think it to be. Always welcoming you in like it’s been waiting for you to return. Waiting to wash away the grim and blood that seemed more permanent on your skin than your own flesh. 

You wade at the edge for a bit, pushing around the water with your feet. The water wading at your ankles. 

The ringing hasn’t stopped. 

It rarely does until you’ve closed your eyes and settled it. Until your body is less taut, muscles released from the on switch of fight. The power inside your veins thrumming like a wasp trying to free itself from the tissue of your bones. 

As if it had gotten stuck in there and couldn’t find its way out. Refusing to settle down or leave until you’ve maimed, avenged, and proved yourself—leaving your body and muscles in their current state. 

You’re not worried about something being in the water. If there were, you would have been able to feel it. Sense it’s beating heart and the danger of allowing it to keep beating. You’re alone as you walk further into the water, sinking into it’s depths until your body is completely engulfed. Your neck and head the only things going untouched. 

The freshly made badges on your skin burn when you scrub your thumb along the edges of them. Specks of dried blood float along the surface of the water before they’re lost to the darkness below. 

Amongst the ringing in your head, you can hear the screams of anger that tore from your lungs when the Jedi had gotten the upper hand. The green of his saber leaving red against your skin. Making your moves turn from confident to something rage fueled. 

Somewhere among the ringing, you know his scream is in there. Amongst the many cries for help and cracking bones. 

They always linger. Always hold on like a power pack to your dark side. 

You know your body won’t fully relax until you’ve stopped the ringing, though. You didn’t believe in blessings or curses. Bad fortune or good. Everyone’s life ended the same way. If you did believe in the farce, you would think the ringing that goes from the base of your skull to the drums of your ears was a curse. 

A quiet mind is a blessing. 

The buzz of the force within you too heady when you're in the throes of battle. War. Darkness. It’s always been like that. Even before him. 

It’s only gotten worse with him beside you. Like the bond the two of you had opened too much too deep and you feel everything more clearly. More unfortunately. 

He taught you how to silence it. To reign it in after the adrenaline and pace of your heart slowed. 

There were still things you had to learn. Things you were kept from knowing by your old master, the one who only saw one way to wield your power. A cowardly excuse for a master whose burial you wish you could have witnessed. 

It’s aggravating, almost. Anger inducing for sure. 

Someone not believing you are capable of knowing the truth about the power you wield. It’s criminal to not allow someone to be their true self all because of a set of rules that only benefited one group of people. One way of living, when there were so many. 

Your aggravation has faded by now. The anger is still there and buzzes through you. But you no longer feel like a part of you has been held back. Stunted and aching like your chest had for years—as if a rock had found itself in the base of your heart and took up rent there—until Qimir showed you the way. 

Your true self. 

Your full potential and all you were capable of. 

All that had been inside of you, held back for so long. 

Filling your lungs with air, you sink yourself under the water and hold yourself there. Eyes closing as you center yourself. Slow the wasp in your marrow to something dull. Stop the ringing in your ears until all you can hear is the hum of the water hitting the rock above the surface. 

Just you and the force. 

Just you and the water. 

Until you feel him. 

Until he’s there inside your mind.

Until you feel a hand at the base of your skull, fingertips brushing at the nape of your neck to let you know he’s not just in your head. He’s beside you.

Your eyes meet once you’ve filled your lungs with air again, and you wipe the water droplets from your lids. 

You watch him splash water against his neck, running the palm of his hand along the dirt and grime that clings to his skin. Cleaning himself of any traces of the deaths the two of you have left in your wake tonight. 

His calm demeanor always pulls you back from the edge. Always brings a calmness to your blood. To the beating of your heart. Even when shit has gone haywire, his demeanor never switches up. Never slips into something that could be labeled as sloppy or driven by anything other than who he truly is. What he’s made of. 

His calm seeping through your shared bond until you have no choice but to relax.

The handful of times you’ve seen that calmness turn into something animalistic, it’s made you envious, on the same hand, it’s made the space between your thighs burn. 

“You did well tonight.” 

“The smell of my burning flesh still clinging to my senses says differently.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, “you did well.” He repeats. Ducks his head forward to wet his hair. His fingers running through the strands, droplets falling down his face. Your eyes follow them all the way down the column of his neck to his chiseled collar bones. 

It doesn’t take one wielding the force to know what your mind is projecting. Doesn’t matter that the two of you share a part of your brain. The thoughts of past nights spent together, Qimir teaching you the ways desire can be wielded and used to your advantage—or disadvantage, depending on how you look at it. 

Your face turns from him. Eyes moving up to the moon. 

Trying to hold back your thoughts the way he taught you. Even if it is futile against him.

“How do you feel?” 

Has the ringing stopped, Is what he’s really asking. Do you need another lesson? Are you still weakened by that ailment? That curse? 

Except he wouldn’t be as dramatic as that. Not with this. Not ever. Especially when it came to your power. Your capabilities. The perfect little acolyte he’s trained you to be. 

“Fine.” Your answer clipped, honest. Because you are fine, and your stubbornness will not allow you to let this turn into another lesson about you not being able to be as calm and collected as he is. No shadows of doubt lingering over who he truly is. His purpose. His wants. His desires. His darkness. 

He’s always been able to read right through you, though. Even without taking up space in your being. The force has little to do with that fact. 

You were never afraid of the darkness that lived inside of you. Never afraid of the power you could wield and the lives you could take. 

The only time you’ve felt true fear is being seen. 

Accepted. 

The potential to let someone of importance down and not withhold your end of a deal you’ve inked your name in blood just to be beside. To prove yourself to someone who’s your equal. Another half of your very being.

His face shows nothing but that calm amusement when he wades behind you. His fingers moving against your skin in an act to rid you of the spots of dirt you’ve missed on your neck and shoulders. 

Swallowing hard when his fingers scrape against past scars, he lingers there for a beat. Running the pad of them against the raised skin. A whisper in your head. 

You heal beautifully.

It’s a softness you’d never thought him to be capable of when you found out who he truly was. The man behind the mask. Even if the unmasking had been done unintentionally. 

It’s not softness you feel from his touch, though. No, his touch eases the strain in your muscles, only to gather itself in your belly. Your body burning with anticipation, knowing how this goes. 

How you’re rewarded when you impress him. 

When you do as you are told, your master is ever the generous one. 

“You’ve proven yourself tonight.” His lips brush against the tip of your spine, “killing without a weapon, not stopping until you were the last one standing. Freeing yourself from the ones who held you back for so long.” Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his mouth presses down on that same spot at the beginning of your spine. 

A hand snaking around your throat, his palm wet and warm against your collarbones as he pulls your neck at just the right angle to have you looking at him. 

“Did it feel good?” 

“Yes.” You swallow, wrap your fingers around his wrist. “It always does.” You whisper, your eyes flashing down to the upturn of his lips. 

His nose runs along your cheek to your temple, his eyes closed, inhaling you. “I can always smell it. When you let yourself become one with the darkness. Right before you take a life.” His thumb runs a circle against the vein, which tells him the pace of your heart has picked up. As if he’d need it to know, as if the two of you don’t share something that links you completely to the other. “It still lingers. It’s distracting.” 

It’s not a question, but you nod. Your eyes flutter when he pushes his hips forward, and the hardness of his cock moves against your ass. 

He doesn’t ask permission, the two of you knowing you’re past such kindnesses, when his hand cups your mound. He knows what your body needs right now. What it wants, what it’s expecting. He can feel it too. His index and middle fingers spread your pussy, giving him access to that pleasure point on your body that only he knows how to stroke just right to have you pliant and singing for him. 

As if you were not already devoted to him. As if he were not your reason for being.

He’s your beginning, and you have no doubt he will be your end if it comes to it. 

The pad of his finger circles your clit in that slow way that lets you know he’s going to take his time with you. Going to drain every last bit of strain and tightness from your muscles, pushing that buzz between your legs and making him the only sound in your head—until he thinks you have had enough. 

Until your reward is good enough for him to be satisfied with how you took it. Until he knows your mind is back where it needs to be—here, with him. 

His mouth meets the hand at your throat, his teeth sinking into the parts his fingers aren’t pressing into. “You’re everything I could have hoped for.” His tongue laps against your pulse.

Perfect.

You may never know if he actually means the words; you can only feel what he allows you to feel through your shared connection. He’s better at blocking than you. But he knows you need to hear these praises. Knows how good and pliable it will make you. His words stoke the fire inside your soul that burns through your darkness. That allows you to become completely consumed by him and the desire to be on this side. 

Of being free. 

What he does allow you to feel lets you know there is some truth somewhere in there. You can feel it in how hard his cock thrusts against your ass when your body pushes back into him. You can feel it in the way his thoughts stream through your mind. 

So obedient.

Your cunt’s so greedy for me.

You’re mine.

The skin on your fingers stings from gripping the rocks in front of you. The pain you should feel from the heel of your palm digging into the jagged stones, lost in the haze of pleasure consuming your body. 

Qimir consuming every last part of your being. 

Taking over every dark corner of your mind and not letting you feel or hear anything but him.

Your moans become more shaky, your chest heaving as you pant and curse. The weight of the finger on your clit grows heavier, faster, deliriously good the more you near your orgasm. 

Your lips are moving in inaudible words. Words he understands, making him grin against your jaw. 

“You want my cock tonight?” You know he’s read your mind, or rather, your body. Know he can feel what you desire and crave. What your minds begging him for. “Hmm, do you think you’re deserving of that big of a prize? You spill a little blood, and suddenly you’re greedy.” He hums, “you did well. Do you think you deserve it, though? No?” 

Heat burns your cheeks; his chuckle makes you sob into the night air. The stubbornness to please and be as perfect as your counterpart wants you to be is not in favor of the mounting pressure that’s building in your pussy right now. 

“I already think you’re perfect; don’t push it.” His foot pushes easily at your ankles. Your thighs spread enough for the head of his cock to press against your entrance and thrust inside. 

“Mmm,” you whine at the stretch. Your eyes fluttering closed at your swollen walls being filled. Walls that tighten around him as he sets a fast pace. Matching the rhythm and stroke of his fingers. Sending your body on an overwhelming precipice of a carnal need to come. 

The heaviness of his breath as he says your name against your skin—the quick flashes of the pleasure he feels from being inside of you—is what finally sends you over the edge. 

Your orgasm rocking through you like a storm. Your body shaking against him, walls fluttering and squeezing around his cock, making him groan. Your throat raw and scratchy from the noise that’s pulled up from your lungs when everything in your body is set completely aflame. 

Your hand falling from the rocks, and pressing your nails into his wrist, trying to pull his hand from between your thighs. The over-stimulation of his finger moving against your clit even after your orgasm has passed makes you cry out and ripple the water around the two of you as you squirm. 

The tip of his cock hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. That falters your fight against his torment. 

“You can do better than one. You deserve it, don’t you?”

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)¹ retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. [ one, two, three]

this was a stupid idea, a dangerous idea; one that could potentially get you hurt— you knew that, but the temperature was below freezing and you couldn't bear the thought of letting him walk to god knows where. you wouldn't allow that, not when you could offer help.

you came to a slow halt beside the man, rolling down the passenger side window and smiling softly, awkwardly. “hi! mind if i ask where you're headed?" he's taller than you assumed, standing at least a foot or two taller than you, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his all-black tee.

the fitted clothing accentuates his large frame, hinting at the strength that lies beneath. a mask covers his face, a skull painted onto the fabric, and a large military duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, weathered and worn.

he stops abruptly and gradually swivels his head to face you. his eyes are a striking shade of brown when they meet your gaze— they look……hollow, devoid of emotion. you smile once more and tilt your head, your palms slick with sweat against the steering wheel. “s’just, the temps gonna drop a bit more later in the night and i thought i’d give you a ride, so you don't freeze to death on your way.”

your attempt at a joke with the man falls short and you clear your throat and drum your thumbs softly, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. you jump when he finally speaks. his voice is like velvet dipped in honey. it's deep, rough, gravelly, and accented. you can't help but be taken aback for a moment, as a delightful warmth spreads through your body at the mere sound of it.

“y’r parents ever taugh’ you not ta talk t’strangers?”

you purse your lips and cluck your teeth, trailing behind him as he resumes his stride. sure, you should have driven off, gone back to your cozy apartment to indulge in a couple of movies, and drink yourself into a stupor but, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do so.

“my name’s _____, what’s yours?” he stops briefly and cranes his neck to the sky for a moment with a hint of irritation, before breathing out a heavy sigh; he seems hesitant, confused— and doubtful. then he turns to face you and your small fiat. “simon," he says softly. smiling you pull to a stop, “well, we’re not strangers anymore, simon.”

simon scoffs in slight amusement but slowly makes his way to you, when he reaches the passenger side window, you can clearly see a hint of distrust lingering in his eyes. it’s clear that he’s not accustomed to kindness from strangers. but you remain undeterred, your grin unwavering, as you lean over to open the door for him.

with a stiff nod of appreciation, he settles into the passenger seat, his worn-out bag settling between his thighs as he sinks into the comfort of the cushioned upholstery.

as you pull away from the curb, the man's eyes wander out the window, lost in thought. "so, where are you headed?" you ask gently, voice laced with genuine curiosity as you try to break the tension, your voice trembling slightly.

however, his response is nothing more than a cold, detached stare out the window. it’s as if he's not really there, as if his mind is lost in some distant place, far away from the reality of this moment. and yet, there's something captivating about his emptiness, something that draws you in despite the warning signs flashing in your mind.

“could be a killer.” simon voices, head slanting towards you; he looks comically large for your small fiat car and you can't help but smile. “are you?” he grunts but doesn't respond. the car speeds through the night, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the rhythmic thumping of your heart. he's like a puzzle waiting to be solved, a mystery begging to be unraveled; and you were curious.

“the nearest shelter,” he finally utters. “thats where i’m headed.” you hum softly and swallow thickly; this was a stupid idea, a dangerous idea; one that could potentially get you hurt, you knew that, but—

“stay with me tonight.”

[dwaekkicidal]

𓆩Face Sitting with Felix𓆪

fem!reader | warnings: felix is a munch + pussydrunk, overstim, oral (f receiving), spanking, dacryphilia(?)

brought to you by @chvnmax and i's genius noggins. we spoke about this earlier today so i had to write about it teehee

Munch Masterlist

Munch!Felix who comes home after a rough day to see you asleep in his bed in nothing but his shirt

Munch!Felix who finds himself immediately gravitating towards you, he runs his hands along the skin of your legs, thighs, and arms to ease you awake

Munch!Felix who, once he gets you half conscious, asks you to ‘help him feel better.’ And being the good, caring lover you are, who are you to deny him?

Munch!Felix who begs you to help by sitting on his face, even going as far as to pull out puppy dog eyes and a teary pout. "Baby pleaeeeese.. It's the only way!!"

Munch!Felix who easily convinces you to agree and once your still sleepy form is hovering over his face, he can already feel the stress start to melt off his shoulders

Munch!Felix who sinks his fingers into your plush thighs, pulling you fully onto his face as he showers kisses on your thighs, then trailing them to your now bare pussy

Munch!Felix who pulls you harder against his face as he swaps between sucking your clit and licking long, slow stripes along your folds, occasionally even dipping his tongue into your hole

Munch!Felix who moans against you with every grind you make, placing a kiss to your clit as a reward and as encouragement for the times you do it without his help

Munch!Felix who thrusts his hips from below you, humping the air as he eats up you and your moans as if he'll never experience them again

Munch!Felix who trails his hands under his shirt on you when you finally start to grind completely on your own, grabbing a handful of your boob with one hand and pinching your nipple with the other

Munch!Felix who brings you to an orgasm scarily fast like this, moaning into you as he finally gets his well earned reward: the taste of your cum on his tongue

Munch!Felix who ‘still doesn’t feel good’ and decides that he needs more.

Munch!Felix who stares up at you with darkened eyes, staring into your teary ones as he holds you to him tighter and doubles his efforts

Munch!Felix who you feel smirk against your folds as your legs try to close around his head when the overstimulation starts to hit hard

Munch!Felix who moves his hands to your hips and your ass when you go to pull yourself off of him, pulling you back onto him and mumbling something along the lines of "Where do you think you're going..?"

Munch!Felix who slams his hand down against your ass as a warning to sit still, “or else.”

Munch!Felix who inevitably adds his fingers to the mix, shoving two into you off the bat and making sure to curl them nice and roughly

Munch!Felix who holds you against him, growling against your cunt and smacking the skin on your ass until its a bright red every time you try to push him away

Munch!Felix who does this nonstop until tears are rolling down your face you're convulsing uncontrollably. Then he FINALLY allows you to pull away because he's officially satisfied with his efforts

Munch!Felix whose beautiful freckles glisten from your cum all over his face, the light on the bedside lamp illuminating it further

Munch!Felix who holds the biggest shit eating grin as he wipes off some of his face and pulls you into a kiss, squeezing and massaging the fat of your hips and your ass as you guys make out

Munch!Felix who puts you in a false sense of security when he lays you back down, only to hike the shirt above your chest and grope your chest

...but if you think that even after all the orgasms he pulled from you that he won't fuck you into the mattress right after, then you are severely mistaken <3

[nereidprinc3ss]

lava lamp

in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression

fluff

warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse

a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800

The room is awash in hot pink. 

It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid. 

The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals. 

Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop. 

The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more. 

“Hi,” he says, quietly enough. 

You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you. 

“How’re you feeling, honey?”

A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you. 

“Tired.”

More quiet. 

“What kind of tired?”

But he knows what kind of tired. 

“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded. 

“I can handle it.”

If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid. 

“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”

Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always. 

“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”

You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right. 

“Yeah.”

Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below. 

“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”

You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.  

“Really?”

The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider. 

“Metaphorically speaking.”

He’s perfect. 

You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours. 

Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”

He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine. 

You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”

And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp. 

[specshroom]

BLOOD IN THE WATER꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

"How much longer?"

Your current patron meekly asks from his seat behind you.

"Not much longer."

You curtly reassure him.

You should be used to these tourists and their consistent whines but it never seems to get less pathetic. You suppose you shouldn't blame them considering the position they've gotten themselves into, although a bigger part of you just couldn't muster up sympathy for people who are dumb enough to find themselves in the middle of a monster infested lake with a complete stranger at the oar.

That thought breaks you form your daydream and you take a moment to stare at the deceptively clam waters below. You stop your slow rows, bring the gondola to a steady halt and turn to your patron.

"This is your stop."

You fasten the large oar to the hull and step towards the man so that you can look down at him properly.

He looks around at the open water, the mist is so thick he can barely see a few feet Infront of his face much less any semblance of land. He looks back up at you and hesitates before speaking,

"I...payed for the full trip."

You shake your head solomly,

"I only said I could get you on the lake...which I did."

You gesture around to the lake that you both are very much on.

"If you want to get to the other side, that's a seperate trip."

You hold your hand out, clearly indicating what you want. The man's eyebrows scrunch, his eyes go from wide with fear to a heated glare and his hands grip the travel bag he's been cradling.

"You can't do that! We agreed!"

He yells and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand as ripples break in the water all around the gondola. As if he just remembered where he is, the man freezes and lets out a little whimper when he hears tiny splashes in the water right next to him. The small boat rocks side to side as the water vibrates, sounding out the life that dwells beneath it.

The water settles after a few moments of silence and you stand again and look down at the quivering man.

"What choice do you have?"

The tourist heaves out a defeated breathe and digs in his bag to retrieve a sack of coins for the rest of the trip. He hands it to you with an icy glare.

"Is that enough for you?"

He hisses, a little quiver remains in his voice.

You give him a look and continue to count your coins. If you're being honest, you expected more from him. The disappointment must show on your face because he looks just about ready to swing at you before you let out a loud whistle.

Just then several claws burst out of the water and grab him. He shrieks as wet scaly hands cling to his shirt. One by one three heads pop out of the water to leer at his now pale face, drained of any colour once his wide eyes meet the inky black orbs of the creatures holding him down. They bare their sharp teeth as talons sink into his skin making him unable to struggle lest they dig further.

His panicked eyes can only follow you as you start plucking valuables from his pockets and rummaging through his belongings.

From the corner of his eye he can see more of these creatures circling the gondola. Waiting.

You sit down with a huff, slightly rocking the boat as you count and inspect your new plunder.

After a few moments you hear low growls that simmer into whines, you peer up at the multiple black eyes staring at you, waiting for the go ahead. The man's blood is already seeping into their claws and they're practically drooling.

You take pity on the poor creatures and with no more than a final glance at the man you let out another whistle and he's instantly pulled from the boat into the water without time to scream. You huff as the water splashes you, as eager as they are it was a pretty good deal you struck with the creatures, you get the valuables and they get dinner.

As you watch the merfolk fight over their thrashing meal you feel a tug on your sleeve. One of the creatures looks up at you from the surface with intrigue. You give them a questioning look and in response they bring themselves higher over the hull to rather boldly nuzzle at your neck.

You huff in amusement and waste no time grabbing their jaw and kissing their cold but soft lips, caressing their wet cheek with your warm hand. They croon at the warm touch and lick into your mouth.

Another one surfaces the water to place kisses on your neck with a few cheeky nibbles as they cling to your clothes to try and bring your body closer.

You fully indulge in the benefits of your agreement with these creatures as the water around you turns crimson.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

Some more of this!

[kaiijo]

NICKNAMES — MIYA ATSUMU

pairing: miya atsumu x gn! reader content: timeskip! atsumu, fluff, suggestive

atsumu’s always liked nicknames, ever since he was little. it’s evident in his calls for “‘samu” and “omi omi” and “bokkun.” he’s never once called suna by either his first or last name; it’s always been sunarin.

atsumu can’t remember the last time he called you by your actual government name. it’s always baby, sweetheart, babe. you always grin at him when he does, pecking his lips and wrapping your arms around him.

but you still call him atsumu. not love or honey or baby, not even ‘tsumu. it makes him huff and pout and he’s honestly on the verge of a tantrum when he thinks about it. he uses every pet name under the sun for you and yet, to you, he’s just plain old atsumu.

the two of you are sitting on your couch, you cuddled under his arm, watching some show on netflix that neither of you are really paying attention to. your phone buzzes and you lift it, snickering at a message one of your high school friends sent you, and when you open up your messages with her, atsumu blanches at the contact name.

“baby!” he whines, making your head snap towards him. he detaches himself from you and crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow. “everything okay, atsumu?”

he only frowns further and points accusingly at your phone. “so, ya can call yer friend ‘goddess shimizu’ but ya can’t even bother callin’ me ‘babe’?”

you blink owlishly at him. “what are you talking about?” you set your phone on the sidetable and fully turn your body to atsumu, who’s sinking further into the couch cushions.

“why do you call me atsumu?”

“because that’s your name?”

“no!” he says, “i mean… why don’t ya call me anythin’ else? like any nicknames? ya don’t even call me ‘tsumu and literally everyone does unless they’re mad at me.”

you sigh heavily, “you’re not serious.”

“it just… i—”

your face softens as atsumu struggles to find the right words, and you place a tender hand on his knee. “atsumu,” you say gently and he glances at you. “i use your name because i like your name. it’s you. it’s yours.” your hand moves under his chin and you tilt his head. “you’re atsumu. you’re my atsumu.”

the possessive tinge to your voice sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. “yeah?” he says, mouth stretching into a dazed smirk. “i’m yours, huh?”

you reply, “yep, all mine.” you cup his face with one hand, stroking his jaw with your thumb. “as long as you want to be.”

“think yer stuck with me for a while.”

you chuckle, “i think i can live with that.”

atsumu pulls you to straddle his lap, running his hands up and down your thighs. your own hands settle on his shoulders as he asks, “can ya do me a favor, though?”

“sure, what is it?”

he blushes a little and says, “call me somethin’ cute once in a while.”

“hmm, like this?” you hum, leaning forward, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “baby.”

atsumu feels his brain turn mushy as you dip your head, pressing a slow kiss to the skin of his neck just below his ear. “love,” you drawl out again and the mindless chatter of whatever show you two were watching fades into static. atsumu’s stops rubbing your thighs, gripping them tight instead.

“sweethe—” your purr is swallowed by atsumu’s mouth in a fiery kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, salacious and solicitous. your fingers card through his hair and you grasp a few strands, tugging and relishing in atsumu’s moan.

seems like you’ll be calling him a lot more than atsumu from now on.

[punkshort]

dad jokes

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel and Sarah celebrate Father's Day with you and your family. Your sister's newest addition brings up a topic you've never discussed before with Joel.

Warnings: language, fluff (the cheesy hallmark kind), established relationship, reader has a nickname previously explained, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (m receiving), flirting, dirty talk

WC: 6.1K

Dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

No matter how many times it happened, waking up in Joel's arms always put a smile on your face. His thick forearm laid heavy across your stomach and his broad chest was pressed against your back, cocooning you in his warmth. Even though it was mid June and the Texas heat was already beginning to rise, you refused to wiggle out of his grasp. You would rather overheat than not feel his exhale tickling the back of your neck or smell his familiar, intoxicating scent so close.

You cracked one eye open and glanced around his neat bedroom. Soon to be your shared bedroom, once the lease on your apartment was up next month. He had already insisted on bringing some of your things over and slowly your lives began to blend together. The end table closest to your side of the bed housed your things: a pink jar of lip balm, phone charger, a book, a few stray necklaces and some moisturizer. It looked like your things always belonged there, never out of place. Your eyes drifted towards his closet, which was already reorganized and you could see a few articles of your clothing hanging inside from the crack in the door. Your favorite purple blanket, although discarded for the past month or so now due to the temperature, was draped over an armchair in the corner of the room. Your smile grew when you saw the framed photo of the two of you Tommy took at Sarah's Christmas recital sitting prominently on the dresser.

Just when you thought your life couldn't get any more perfect, you felt Joel stir behind you and tighten is grip around your waist before his gravelly voice mumbled mornin' and his hand wandered down, slipping underneath the sheets to pluck at the hem of your sleep shorts.

"Happy Father's Day," you whispered over your shoulder. You felt him smile against your skin.

"Thank you, baby."

His hand slipped beneath your underwear and you sighed, arching your back when he began to tease, the rough pads of his fingers petting lightly between your legs. You felt his hardening length twitch against your ass and you bit your lip, temporarily getting lost in the moment before you remembered Sarah's surprise and you begrudgingly put your hand on his arm to stop him.

"We can't."

"Why?"

Just then you each heard a clattering in the kitchen below you and Sarah mutter something before the sink turned on.

"Sarah's making you pancakes."

Joel groaned. "But I don't want pancakes, I want somethin' else," and he began to rub his finger against your slit again, making you gasp.

"Joel," you whined as you began to pull away, "she's been planning this all week, come on."

He shifted onto his back and gave you a pathetic look. You giggled and rolled out of bed. "If I promise to give you your gift after she goes to bed tonight, would that make you feel better?"

"You bought me a gift?" he asked, suddenly becoming alert.

"Well, I wouldn't say I bought you something," you said as you began to change out of your pajamas. "But you'll still be thanking me."

Joel grinned and slid out of bed to join you in front of the closet, his arms wrapping around your waist and his lips latching onto the crook of your neck. "I like the sound of that."

"Dad!" Sarah called from the bottom of the stairs. "Hurry up! I have a surprise for you!"

"Go," you told him, pushing against his chest playfully. He pretended to stumble backwards, making you laugh before heading out into the hall and down the steps.

By the time you changed and washed up, Joel had already devoured half his breakfast. You stopped short when you entered the kitchen and burst out laughing when you saw the cheesy #1 Dad blue ball cap sitting cockeyed on top of his messy curls.

"Oh, this is just too good," you giggled before grabbing your phone out of your pocket and snapping a picture. "Great job, kiddo," you told Sarah when you passed by, ruffling her hair. She shot you a killer smile and went back in for more pancakes.

"What time is the barbecue again?" Sarah asked with her mouth full.

"Four, I think," you replied, pulling out your phone to check the text from your mom. "Oh! Bring your swimsuit. They want to use the pool."

"Yes!" Sarah whispered, triumphantly pumping her fist. "That pool is the coolest."

"Tiles in the center of the pool are hand painted by this artist your folks found just outside of the city. She had those ready to go before the concrete guys were even ready to pour, if you can believe it. Did I ever tell you 'bout the concrete guys?" You and Sarah exchanged amused glances and shook your heads, letting Joel ramble on. He was the contractor who built your parents' house the year prior and it was no secret it was one of his favorite projects, even before he got to meet you. Your parents adored him, as well. So much so that they invited him, Sarah and Tommy to their annual Christmas party, where you first met.

When breakfast was done, you volunteered to wash the dishes, which, after looking around the kitchen at the tornado Sarah left behind, you instantly regretted it. Naturally, Sarah noticed that she trapped you and before anyone could ask her to help, she disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom.

"I'll help, baby," Joel said as he tried to take the towel from over your shoulder. You scooted back, just out of reach, and shook your head.

"It's Father's Day, you shouldn't lift a finger," you replied. He grinned and leaned up against the counter instead, picking at some leftover bacon while you got to work. "Maybe this was my gift for you all along," you added with a wink. His hand froze halfway to his mouth, a piece of bacon hanging limply from his fingers as he stared at you.

"I was really hopin' it was somethin' better than doin' the dishes, darlin'."

"Yeah? Like what?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes, making him grin. His eyes drifted towards the door to the kitchen, making sure Sarah didn't sneak downstairs when he wasn't paying attention, then took a step forward.

"Like maybe you let me finish what I started this mornin'," he said, his voice dropping an octave. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your body already betraying you with just one small sentence, but you tried to keep your cool as you scrubbed a plate in the sink.

"Now, that would require lifting a finger, wouldn't it?" you teased. He gently brushed his knuckles against your back, taking yet another step closer while you rinsed the plate.

"It would require a couple, actually, but I'm more than willin' to put in a little work."

"So generous of you, but I was thinking I could be the one doing all the work tonight," you whispered, turning to ghost your lips over his and blindly washing a fork.

"Yeah?" he breathed, practically falling into a trance as he stared into your eyes.

"Mhm, but I wouldn't stop you if you used those fingers to pull my hair when I'm on my knees with your-"

"Dad?" Sarah called from the top of the stairs, making you both jump. You stifled your giggles when Joel took a deep, ragged breath and raked his fingers through his hair before adjusting himself and walking towards the kitchen door.

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"Where are the beach towels?"

"Sarah, it's ten in the mornin', we ain't goin' to the barbecue til later."

"I know, but I wanna lay outside for a bit before it gets too hot."

Joel rolled his eyes and you grinned while you finished up the dishes. "I think they're in the basement, I'll get 'em." He turned back to you and pinned you with a familiar, heated look. "We ain't done here."

"Is that a promise?"

He chuckled and shook his head before swinging open the basement door and disappearing down the stairs.

It was on the car ride over to your parents' house when it hit him: this was the first Father's Day where he didn't have to do anything. Before you, Joel was completely alone. Sure, Tommy helped when he could, but Tommy also had his own life. For so many years it was just him and Sarah, and as much as she tried to take things off his plate as she got older, she still wasn't old enough to make her own money or drive a car to get him a gift for any special occasion. At Christmas, Tommy helped her out, but his birthday and Father's Day were always different. Those were times he gave her money from his wallet and pretended not to watch which stores she filtered in and out of at the mall.

He loved his little girl more than anything and he was happy that she even cared enough to put any thought into a gift for him over the years, but this year? It was special. You took Sarah to the grocery store to get supplies for breakfast when he was at work. You took her to the mall and you helped her wrap that stupid hat and the DVDs of a couple action flicks he'd been wanting to see.

In just six short months, you managed to change everything.

His hand drifted across the seat to your thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze, his fingers curling around your leg lovingly. You turned your head from the open window, hair flying every which way in the wind, to give him a dazzling smile while his daughter listened to music in the backseat, her bathing suit on underneath her clothes and a towel tucked under her arm.

How could he ever properly explain to you what you've done to him? To the both of them? You probably didn't even think twice about taking Sarah to get him a gift, it just came second nature to you. But to him, it meant the world.

He released your thigh and found your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before stretching your arm across the seat, flipping your hand over and then pressing a kiss in your palm, all the while keeping his eyes pinned on the road.

You wiggled your fingers, tickling his chin playfully, making him smile. At a stop light, he glanced in the review mirror at Sarah smiling down at something on her phone.

His life finally felt complete. The only thing he had left to do was make it official.

Sarah leaned forward, arms stretching over the back of the seats to show you her phone. She was excitedly telling you about some famous pop star that just announced he was releasing a new album at the end of the month along with tour dates and you nodded along, pretending to be just as enthused.

"I mean, look at this album cover. He's so dreamy. Isn't he so cool?" Sarah asked with a goofy smile on her face.

"Mmm, absolutely. The coolest," you replied.

"Well, you know why he's so cool, don't you?" Joel chimed in. Sarah frowned, confused. "'Cause he's got a lotta fans."

The corners of his mouth pulled into a grin, eyes flicking back and forth between you and his daughter, waiting for a reaction that never came. You both just stared at him blankly. "Oh, c'mon, that was a good one!" he moaned as he pulled into the driveway. You hid your smile behind your hand as Sarah rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Don't quit your day job, Dad."

"I bet your old man'll find it funny," Joel said to you after Sarah piled out of the truck.

"I have no doubt about that," you told him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the passenger seat to trail after Sarah, who had ran right to the gate leading to the backyard.

"Happy Father's Day!" you sang out when you opened the gate to find your dad messing around with the grill. His eyes snapped up to yours and his round face lit up before stretching his arms open wide for a hug.

"Thanks, Buck," he murmured into your hair, arms so tight around your ribs that you could barely breathe.

"Happy Father's Day, Mr. Paul," Sarah chirped, and your dad released you in favor of pulling her into a much more delicate half hug.

"Thank you, sweetie. Where's your old man?"

"Right here," Joel replied, closing the gate behind him. "Happy Father's Day, Paul," he added once he got closer, reaching an arm out to shake your father's hand, but your dad grabbed it and pulled Joel in for a hug and a loud slap on the back. You giggled and looked away when you saw Joel's face. Your father was a big man and sometimes forgot his own strength.

"Happy Father's Day, Joel," your dad answered once he finally released him. "C'mon, lemme get you a beer from the garage." The two of them wandered back down the path towards the gate while you and Sarah hopped up the stairs to the deck. The sliding glass door was partially open and you could hear your two month old niece's wails before you even stepped inside.

Your mom, who was busy flying around the kitchen in the same green apron she's owned since you were little, planted quick pecks on your cheeks before pulling plates of burgers and chicken out of the refrigerator.

"Sarah, honey, could you take these out to Mr. Paul for me? Then feel free to jump in that pool, it's getting too hot out there."

"Yes, ma'am," Sarah said excitedly before jumping in to help.

"Bucky, can you find your sister and see if she needs any help with Anna?"

"Already on it!" you called over your shoulder. You peered into the living room, spotting a baby swing and portable crib with a loose pack of diapers shoved underneath, but no baby. You followed the noises down the hall to your father's den where your sister, Cassie, and her husband, Josh, were desperately trying to quiet down your niece. Just one look at them and you knew they were beyond exhausted. Their eyes looked a little red and your sister's hair wasn't styled in her usual, meticulous fashion.

"Hey, why don't I give it a try?" you offered, stretching out your arms. Your sister and Josh looked at you, relief flooding their faces.

"Oh, thank you, Buck," Cassie said before handing over Anna. Josh draped a fresh burp cloth over your shoulder so you could press Anna's chest against yours, her perfect little face screaming into your shoulder.

You shushed her and gently bounced on the balls of your feet. She continued to yell but you could tell her voice was beginning to quiet down a bit. "Why don't you guys go relax and I'll come get you if I need you?"

"Are you sure?" Josh asked, but Cassie was already grabbing his hand and pulling him out the door.

"Consider it your Father's Day present," you told him with a wink. He grinned and mouthed thank you before following your sister back towards the kitchen.

"Alright, Annie, it's just you and me now. No need for all that drama," you murmured into her ear. She took a few deep breaths then yawned, occasionally filling the room with a tiny shriek but otherwise seemed to be calming down. You walked back and forth across the room, whispering whatever you could think of to her, knowing it didn't really matter because all that she really liked was the vibrations in your chest, anyway. When you ran out of things to say and she was still awake, but quiet, you began to hum. You stood in front of the bay window, looking out at the front yard and admiring your mother's garden, swaying back and forth and humming some song you heard on the radio when Joel snuck up the hall holding two beers. When he spotted you, your back to him with Anna falling asleep on your shoulder, he stopped dead in his tracks.

He couldn't stop fucking looking at you. The image made his breath hitch in his throat and his stomach clench. Suddenly, sleepless nights where he carried Sarah around on his shoulder flashed before his eyes. He was so young and scared and convinced he was doing everything wrong. But watching you in that moment he somehow knew you would be a natural with a baby of your own. You always had a way that made him feel calm, secure, safe.

You never brought up the topic of having kids before. He always wondered but he worried he would be asking too soon. Then he realized how foolish that seemed when he had an engagement ring already purchased and hidden in his dresser.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to move, quietly entering the den. You turned around at the noise and smiled.

"Is she out?" you whispered. He crept forward and tilted his head, noting Anna's eyes were shut and her pacifier was dangling from her lips. He nodded and you pretended to wipe sweat from your brow. He shifted out of the way so you could slowly sway out the door and back into the hallway where the pack and play was set up. You could hear your family's voices muffled through the sliding glass door and the faint sounds of splashing coming from the pool as you carefully leaned forward to put Anna in the crib.

"Can't believe how big she is already," he whispered, hooking his chin over your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I know. Did it feel like Sarah grew up this fast?"

Joel laughed softly and kissed the back of your neck before stepping away. "Actually, no. Doin' it so young was tough. I was so nervous, every hour felt like a year. And Char wasn't a huge help before she left. She wasn't really present."

You gave him a sympathetic look before taking the beer he held out for you. "I'm sorry, Joel."

"No need to be sorry. Everythin' worked out exactly like it was supposed to." He tipped his bottle to gentle tap against yours before taking a sip, watching you nervously as you did the same. He cleared his throat and glanced over at Anna once more, too anxious to look at you when he asked, "is that somethin' you'd want one day? Kids?"

Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise before you shifted your weight. Were you nervous, too?

"Uh, well, yeah, sure, you know, but it's not, like, a dealbreaker or anything." The embarrassment crept up your chest and neck, making your cheeks feel hot under his gaze.

"What'dya mean, 'dealbreaker'?" he asked curiously, and you shrugged.

"Well, I'm not trying to jump way ahead or anything, I know we haven't been together long," you began to explain, flicking your hair and fanning the back of your neck. You were nervous. The thought made him smile. If you only knew. "I just mean, you've already done the baby thing, so if it's something you didn't want to do, I'm totally fine with-"

"I do," he said immediately. Your gaze snapped up and a huge smile spread across your face.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he said breathlessly with a smile matching yours. "With you? Hell yeah."

You laughed softly, glancing at Anna to make sure she was still sound asleep. "Well, then. That's... yeah. Wow, okay, glad we covered that." You sounded so damn cute when you were all flustered and nervous he couldn't help but cup your cheek and press his lips against yours, putting a stop to your rambling.

"I don't care how long we've been together, I love you," he whispered against your mouth. "Never loved anyone as much as I love you."

Your eyes glistened when you gazed up lovingly at him, your small hand tucking a stray curl around his ear. "Me too, Joel," you gave him one more chaste kiss before pulling back and taking his hand. "Why don't we go rejoin the party?"

He nodded and let you lead him through the kitchen and back out onto the deck where your family was relaxing under the shade of the umbrella, watching Sarah show off her diving skills.

"Hey, Joel, help me out with the grill, yeah?" your dad called from the patio. He tipped his chin in acknowledgement before kissing the top of your head and jogging down the steps.

"She's down?" Cassie asked when you collapsed into the patio chair next to her.

"Yep, sure is."

"You're a miracle worker, Bucky," Cassie sighed before tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

"Nah, she just loves me the most."

Without looking, Cassie shot one leg out to kick you, hitting you squarely on the thigh.

"Ouch! Mom!" you whined, rubbing the spot on your leg. Joel turned around from the grill when he heard you and grinned.

"Bucky, be serious. You're both adults now, do I really still need to referee your fights?"

You pouted then scowled when you saw the smirk on your sister's face.

"Hey, this might be a bad time to ask, but do you think you could watch Anna next Saturday?" Cassie asked sheepishly, making you laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so," you said. "I was going to move some more of my stuff into Joel's place but I suppose I could change my plans for my favorite niece."

"Oh, that's right. Your lease is up soon, isn't it?" Josh asked and you nodded before taking a sip of your beer.

"Next month."

"Big step," your mom said, but she had mischievous a look in her eye that matched the small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, I guess so," you replied, giving her a curious frown, "although I spend so much time at their house as it is, it hardly feels like it."

"Oh, you never know. It might take you by surprise," she said before taking a sip from her cocktail. Cassie looked back and forth between you with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you talking about, mom?" she pried, but your mom waved her off.

"Oh, nothing! I'm just trying to say it's a big, exciting step." She checked the time on her watch and stood up. "I have to check the mac and cheese," she said, then disappeared quietly inside the house.

"That was weird," you muttered, glancing over your shoulder to check on Sarah.

"She's always been weird," Cassie shrugged. "But things are going good with you guys I take it?"

"Yeah," you replied, borderline dreamily. "Things are great."

Cassie leaned in, her sister intuition tingling, silently urging you to elaborate. You bit your lip, glancing quickly at Josh who appeared to be half asleep in the sun.

"He asked me if I ever wanted to have kids," you whispered, but her high pitched squeal blew your cover when both Joel and your dad turned around to look at her.

"She saw a bee!" you called over to them and they shrugged before turning back to the meat on the grill.

"Sorry!" she whispered, then clutched your hand. "Bucky, that's so exciting! What did you say?"

"Well, I was honest with him but I really didn't think he would want any more. Sarah's a teenager already, I thought he was past that point in his life, but..." you trailed off and snuck a peek in his direction, your gaze sliding over his broad shoulders and tanned skin. "I was wrong."

"Oh, my god, Buck. What if we were pregnant at the same time?"

"Shh!" you hissed with a finger against your lips. "You just had a baby and you're already thinking about the next one?"

"Our kids could grow up together and be best friends. Oh, my god I'm so excited, I could die!" she said, ignoring you.

"Cas! I'm not getting pregnant tonight! There's a few more steps that usually happen before having a baby."

"Well, shit, if he's asking you those types of questions, I have a hunch he's got the big question locked and loaded," she replied before putting on her sunglasses and leaning back in her chair with a sigh.

Your eyes went wide and your pulse thrummed excitedly in your neck. "You think?"

"Mhm."

You had been so focused on moving in with Joel and Sarah the past few months that you never really thought past that step. For whatever reason, being with Joel always felt natural. Like you didn't belong anywhere else but right by his side. When you thought about your future, Joel and Sarah were always a part of it, like it was a given they would be in your life forever. But, naturally, forever generally implied an engagement and wedding, something you never gave much thought to. Then your mind drifted back to the night before Cassie gave birth, when Joel came to your door after he and Tommy had to much to drink at a bar nearby and he casually mentioned he wanted to spend his life with you, that he already bought a ring. Even though he quickly backtracked and claimed it was a joke, it still stuck in the back of your mind.

You looked over at Joel again, trying to envision him in a tux and standing under an altar, gazing down at you with tears in his eyes. And then suddenly, mid-fantasy, he turned to you and smiled. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach when you smiled back and he gave you a wink.

"So I said, he's got a lotta fans, get it?" Joel finished saying, sending your dad into a fit of laughter. "Told ya he'd think it was funny," he said when he turned to you with a grin. You just rolled your eyes and took another bite of chicken.

"Yeah, then I told him not to quit his day job," Sarah piped up from the other side of the table. Joel leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well, I'd tell you a construction joke, but I'm still workin' on it."

The whole table cracked up at that one, Sarah included.

"Joel, where's Tommy today?" your mom asked. "He knows he's always welcome, doesn't he?"

"Oh, 'course he does. He's been busy with a new lady friend," Joel replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Hey, that's great," your dad said.

"He's such a handsome man, I'm so glad to hear he's found someone," your mom added.

"Handsome? What'dya mean by that, Martha?" your father questioned, crossing his arms and pretending to be jealous. You and Cassie exchanged glances and rolled your eyes.

"Oh, stop it," she replied, swatting his arm with her napkin while trying to hide the flush that was creeping up her neck.

"Sarah, how'd you do on exams?" Cassie asked as she lifted Anna onto her shoulder to burp her.

Sarah launched into a full breakdown of her school year, highlighting her favorite classes and teachers. Joel watched with a dopey smile on his face while she told the table she was going to continue violin lessons over the summer and she also planned on trying out for a summer soccer league.

"Sounds like you'll be busy, Joel," Josh joked with a nudge.

"Yeah, what else is new," he replied, pretending to be exasperated but in reality, he couldn't be happier. Seeing his little girl so full of life and energy was all he ever needed. "But at least now I'll have a bit of help," Joel added, draping his arm across the back of your chair.

"Oh, Joel, do not let Bucky take Sarah to soccer," Cassie warned. Your parents were already laughing, knowing what she was going to say. "She takes sports way too seriously. If you're not careful, she's gonna be out there in the middle of the field yelling at the refs and getting Sarah thrown out of the game."

"I will not!" you exclaimed defensively, but Sarah and Joel were already laughing.

"Bucky, c'mon, don't make me remind you of fifth grade softball-"

"Cassie, that was ages ago!"

"What happened in softball?" Sarah asked excitedly, picking up on the energy from all the adults.

Cassie went on to tell a very elaborate and exaggerated version of events in which you felt like the pitcher was intentionally trying to hit you with the ball and it nearly caused a fist fight amongst both teams. You just sat back and rolled your eyes, then you felt Joel's fingers graze the back of your arm.

"Don't listen to her, she's a liar," you told him quietly so only he could hear. He grinned and leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

"That's too bad, I like the idea of you gettin' all fiery and worked up."

Your heart skipped a beat at the tone in his voice and you mouthed the word bad, making him chuckle.

Joel didn't want to rush Sarah out of the pool and the weather was so perfect, it was close to nine when you finally decided to pack up and leave, Cassie and Josh already having left hours before to put Anna to bed.

"I'm so tired," Sarah yawned from the backseat.

"Swimming and all that sun'll do that to you," Joel told her.

"Mr. Paul offered to take us fishing one day, Dad. D'you think we can go? He says he knows a spot where the bass are over a foot long each."

Joel smiled to himself. A year ago, all he and Sarah had was Tommy and a few cousins who came by twice a year from out of town. Now it seemed like they had a whole new family, and it was all because of you. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a great time."

You were fresh out of the shower, inspecting your skin for any sunburn when Joel entered your bedroom looking beat. He slid off his jeans with a groan and collapsed into bed with his forearm thrown over his eyes.

Flicking off the bathroom light, you wandered over to the bed, dragging a finger up the inside of his thigh. He moved his arm so he could look at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Too tired for your gift?" you asked sweetly.

He smirked and shook his head. "Never too tired for you, baby."

With his arms spread wide, he motioned for you to join him on the bed. Starting at his legs, you slowly crawled up his body, maintaining steady eye contact the whole way until your nose was nudging gently against his.

"I liked all your dad jokes today," you murmured right before placing a tender kiss against his plush lips. "Really very fitting for the occasion."

"Mm, got one more f'you," he replied, voice matching your low tone.

You tipped your head back a bit so you could see his eyes.

"Let's hear it."

He grinned and pulled you back towards him, nuzzling his nose into your neck, breathing in deep the smell from your floral shampoo. "What goes in hard and comes out soft?"

You giggled and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Um, I can think something," you whispered, nipping playfully at his ear. Then you dropped your hand to cup him between his legs and his breath stalled. You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and looked at his erection bobbing heavy between your bodies. You hummed and gave him a coy smile before leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and, shimmying down between his legs, carefully wrapped your fingers around his cock.

When he first felt your tongue flick out and tease him, he inhaled sharply and gently combed his fingers through your hair with a sigh.

"Fuck, baby, you dirty thing. I was gonna say pasta," he moaned when you took his swollen tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue around, allowing your saliva to pool and drip past your lips. When he gasped and rolled his hips, you felt a flutter in your lower belly, your own arousal building just from listening to him fall apart from your mouth.

You relaxed your jaw and tried to steady your breathing as you took him deeper, making sure to keep your tongue moving, sliding up and down his smooth skin. You smiled around him when he groaned so loud he had to bite his fist, his display of weakness only encouraging you to move faster, hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little deeper each time you sunk back down.

"W-wait, stop - shit," he gasped before giving your hair a gentle pull. You released him and gazed up into his eyes, your lips all red and wet as you panted for air.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin', just gonna come if you keep goin'. C'mon, take these off-" he reached for your shorts but you squirmed away with a frown.

"I told you, Joel. You're not lifting a finger on Father's Day."

"But what 'bout-"

"I wanna take care of you, Joel. Will you let me? Please?" you asked with a little pout. You could see it in the way he looked at you now, you had said something he really wanted to hear. So you tried it again. "You do so much for everyone else. Let me do this for you," you whispered, and when you felt his fingers loosen and fall from your hair, you grinned and turned your attention back to his cock. Slowly, you stroked him up and down, admiring his length before pressing a few kisses to his leaking tip.

"Goddamn, that feels nice," he whispered, closing his eyes briefly to savor the feeling of your warm, soft mouth enveloping him once again. You hummed and he jolted underneath you, the vibrations sending a shockwave through his limbs. "Oh, yeah, there you go," he cooed when you began to take him faster, your tongue swirling around him as you bobbed up and down. "Fuck, you look so good like this, y'know that? You -" he gasped when he felt the tip of his cock nudge the back of your throat and his fingers immediately got tangled in your hair once again. It took everything you had to keep breathing and not gag around him.

"Oh, god," he moaned, his jaw clenching as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his release. You rubbed your thighs together, the ache between your legs unbearable with all the praise and noises he was lavishing on you since you started.

"Fuck, baby, I'm - where? W-where? Quick," he whined as his hips involuntarily bucked up into your mouth. You didn't want to take him from your mouth to answer so you caught his eye, his face looking wrecked and sweaty, and gave him a wink, hoping that would convey your message.

His hand cradled the back of your head as he suddenly bent forward, whimpering your name with a string of curses attached and that was when you felt his warmth first hit your tongue. You moaned quietly at the salty taste, swallowing down each spurt of his release until his muscles relaxed and he fell back onto his pillow with a groan.

"God," he whispered, his chest heaving. He watched in a daze as you carefully drew back, giving the tip one more kiss and sending a shudder down his spine before wiping the corner of your mouth with a grin and climbing up to lay next to him in bed.

He rolled over and cupped your cheek, kissing you with his tongue sliding past your lips. You could feel his heartbeat thumping against his chest, against your chest, and you moaned into his mouth.

"Happy Father's Day," you whispered hoarsely when he pulled away to kiss your forehead.

"Thank you, baby. But now it's your turn," he told you with a sly smirk. He began to inch his way down your body, his lips dragging over your chest, but you stopped him.

"I told you, you're not lifting a finger today."

His eyes shifted to the clock next to your bed. "It's past midnight," he told you before he continued to work his way down, leaving kisses down your stomach before tugging at your shorts.

You sighed and settled into the pillows, eyes sliding shut. "Well, in that case..."

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