#shakes you by the shoulders. he looks so good

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[kissbabie]

losing your virginity to kaiser ♡

when you told kaiser you were a virgin, he was slightly amused. you were inexperienced, and nervous, which is why you pushed off having sex for so long in case you did something wrong or if it just didn’t go well. but after a while, when you shyly told him you wanted him to be the one to take your virginity, he stroked your cheek and grinned, “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

he laid you back on his bed and stripped slowly, more to show off than anything. your eyes darted down, widening slightly when he tugged his pants low. he caught your stare, and with that stupid grin plastered on his face again, leaned down and said, “i’ll make it fit, don’t worry your dumb little head about it.”

but you were a virgin, so kaiser knew he had to prep you. he used one hand to dip between your thighs, easing them apart as his fingers slid along your folds, rubbing circles on your clit. “you’re already so wet, hm…”

and when he finally pushed in, filling you to the brim, he was buried so deep inside that it felt like you couldn’t breathe. plus, he was big, and it was your first time, so you needed a minute to adjust, but it didn’t seem he could handle being so patient since he started moving rather quickly,

you whimpered, feeling him stretch out your virgin cunt as you cried, “ah—micha, please, please, s’too much—hurts—hahhh—!"

but kaiser only gripped your hips tighter as you squirmed desperately underneath him, although he had you pinned down, pounding you into the mattress. “you said you wanted it, hm," he purred. "now look at you, crying all pretty for me."

your fingers dug into his shoulders. “i do—i want it, want you—but i can’t—fuck—can’t handle it, micha—”

“yes, you can,” he groaned, picking up the pace just enough to make you whine. “this is what you were made for, isn’t it? for me to fuck you stupid?”

"hnnghh—ah!—m’gonna cum," you whined, voice high pitched and desperate, "micha, it’s too good—feels so good..”

“dumb girl loves my cock, huh?” he laughed, feeling your walls clench around him so tightly. your body arched up, eyes rolling back, lips parted in a perfect little cry as you came all over him, and you couldn’t even deny what he said. despite it being your first time, you think you’re going to become addicted to this.

you were whining so shamelessly now, drool slick at the corners of your lips, tears slipping down your cheeks as you came down from your high, shaking and crying.

“such a good girl,” he whispered, kissing your temple as he rutted into you sloppily, chasing his own release. “so pretty when you cry. all f’me, hah.”

you were gasping, barely able to keep your eyes open, and body still twitching from the orgasm he just pulled out of you. but he only brushed a strand of hair off your face and leaned down next to your ear, eyes glittering with hunger as he whispered, “now, be good okay? ‘m gonna breed you now, sweetheart.”

for this req

[p1girlfriend]

headcanons — younger!girlfriend x lewis hamilton .✦

— lewis is so gone for you it’s ridiculous. he’ll be sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, then look up and see you dancing around the kitchen in one of his shirts and immediately toss his phone aside. like no thoughts, just her.

— he’s completely obsessed with how young and glowing you are, always touching your skin and going “god, baby... you’re unreal” in that husky voice.

— lets you wear his paddock pass around your neck even when it makes no sense—just because it looks hot on you. "you’re my girl, yeah? let ‘em see."

— buys you skincare he doesn’t even understand, just because you mentioned it once. “this one’s for glowy cheeks, right?” “no, love, that’s a lip oil.”

— loves when you call him “old man” just to tease. but then he’ll pin you to the bed and murmur, “say it again. c’mon. say it with your legs shaking.”

— he spoils you so much. a new bag just because he missed you, flowers for no reason, a necklace with his birthstone “so you always got a piece of me on you.”

— he watches you like a hawk at events—never controlling, just aware. his hand stays on your back, his eyes flick to you every few minutes, and if someone talks to you for too long, he suddenly appears with a soft “everything alright here?”

— can’t keep his hands off you in the car. one hand on the wheel, the other on your bare thigh, squeezing like it’s instinct. sometimes you push his hand higher and he just smirks like “you sure, mama? traffic’s bad.”

— calls you “sweet thing,” “baby girl,” “my sunshine”—but in bed? it switches. “you like makin’ me feel this way, don’t you, little thing?”

— he adores cuddling after sex. like really clings to you, pressing kisses to your neck, your shoulder, your temple. “was that okay?” as if he didn’t just make you see stars.

— puts your age difference in a cute little box and forgets about it—except when you make him feel so old by not knowing a 90s song. then he’s like “wait, what do you mean you’ve never seen men in black?”

— he’s big on slow, sensual sex. lots of eye contact, lots of talking. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. always do.” but if you beg a little? if you say “lewis, please,” in that soft voice? he loses it.

— and in the morning, when he’s still half-asleep and your body’s tangled with his, he kisses your shoulder and whispers, “you’re the best thing I’ve ever done.” and you know he means it.

[zenithsturniolo]

⇢ 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐘, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄

⚸ audio dacryphilia, pussy slapping, praise, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms

you’re half on his lap, half draped sideways across the couch, legs tangled up with his, one of his hands resting on your bare thigh. it’s late. the tv’s on but you’re not watching. you’re distracted by chris. he’s got that look again.

his fingers trail higher, slow. knuckles brushing under your shorts, just barely. not doing anything yet, just there, making you squirm, like he’s daring you to call him out.

“you’re quiet,” chris murmurs, barely glancing at you. “that little attitude finally wear off?”

you roll your eyes, shifting your leg, trying to ignore the way your whole body reacts to the way he touches you without really touching you. “you’re annoying.”

he grins, not even pretending to be offended. “and you’re soaked.”

you blink. “i’m not.”

he just turns his head, meets your eyes like he knows something you don’t. “bet if i slid my fingers in right now, they’d go in easy.”

your breath stutters. yeah. okay.

you shoot him a glare, weak and shaky. he just raises his eyebrows, leans in close enough that his mouth brushes the shell of your ear.

“you want me to prove it?”

you don’t answer, but your legs shift open a little on their own.

he chuckles under his breath, hand slipping higher. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”

next thing you know, he’s pulling your shorts down with one hand, not breaking eye contact. your panties go with them, and the second you’re exposed, he hums low like he expected this.

“fuckin’ knew it,” he says, thumb dragging along your inner thigh. “you’re dripping. from what, just me talkin’ to you?”

you cover your face with your hands. “shut up.”

he grabs your wrists, gently pulls your hands away. “nah. you wanna act like that, you gotta watch what i do to you.”

then he’s moving, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you, nudging your legs up over his shoulders, mouth already brushing between your thighs like it’s instinct.

he doesn’t start soft. chris licks you like he’s been thinking about it all day— long, wet strokes of his tongue, no teasing. moaning against your soaking pussy like he can’t help it. one hand pressing your hips down, the other sliding between your legs like he already knows where you need it.

“so fucking warm,” he mutters, licking messily at your clit. “so wet for me already. you get like this every time i talk shit?”

you try to answer, but he slips two fingers inside you and your mind goes blank. your back arches, a whimper slipping out. his mouth never stops, tongue flicking fast, lips sucking, eyes flicking up every few seconds to watch you fall apart.

“that’s it,” he breathes. “good girl. let me see it.”

you can feel how wet you are—hear it, every time his fingers fuck into you, your body sucking him in so easily. he starts curling them, brushing that spot that makes your thighs shake, and you choke on a moan.

“oh my god— chris—”

he grins, messy and smug. “there she is.”

he slaps your pussy, quick and sharp, and you gasp, hips jerking.

“too much?”

you shake your head so fast it’s barely coherent.

“didn’t think so.”

he does it again— slap, then soothe, tongue flicking soft right after like a reward. your legs are already starting to shake and he’s not even close to done.

“you close?” he asks, licking you slow now, dragging his tongue flat across your clit. “yeah, you are. feel it.”

you nod, breathless. too gone to form words. you feel the heat building in your gut, that ache, that pressure.

he groans, eyes locked on your face. “then look at me when you cum. c’mon. look at me.”

you do, barely. and then you’re unraveling. your body jerks, thighs shaking, moans breaking and raw as you come on his tongue. and he just moans with you, doesn’t stop, keeps his fingers moving inside you while he licks you through it.

but it’s too much. you flinch, trying to close your legs, and he grabs your hips, pulls you back down.

“nah, baby. keep those pretty legs open.”

“chris—” your voice cracks.

“shhh. i got you. you can give me another. be good for me, yeah?”

you nod through the tears already stinging your eyes, chest heaving.

and he fucking smiles.

he slides his fingers out, just to slap your pussy again, wet and loud, and your whole body jolts.

“fuck, look at you,” he whispers, voice ragged now. “shaking already. crying, baby? you crying for me?”

you try to cover your face again but he grabs your hands and pins them to your stomach, his mouth back on your clit, tongue soft and slow now, cruel.

“don’t hide. i wanna see.”

he eats you out like he means it, like he’s addicted to the way you taste, the way you squirm, the way you sob for him. your thighs tremble, breath hitching, tears slipping down your cheeks now as he pushes you higher and higher all over again.

and when you come the second time, loud, messy, and too damn much, he laughs into your cunt like he’s proud.

“atta girl,” he groans. “fuckin’ wrecked and still so goddamn pretty.”

you’re twitching, legs kicking, trying to pull away now. and he finally, finally gives you a break, dragging his mouth off you with a loud, obscene kiss, face shiny, lips swollen.

he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning. “you good?”

you blink up at him, dazed, eyes glassy. he chuckles, crawls back up onto the couch and pulls you into his lap like nothing happened, arms wrapping around your body as your breathing slows.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute when you cry,” he whispers, kissing your temple. “next time i’ll make you cum three times.”

a/n:

find my masterlist here

🏷: @thicknick19 @sturnslutz @viviansturns @cayleeuhithinknott @briizysturn @devotedlyteenagemusic @drewswife @sturnsblogs @auttysturnz @mattspillowprincess @adoremattsturns @dolliraez @sturniolo1trips @sturns-mermaid @sophsturns @444sturns @adorechris @rriverscuomo @megameatymatt @izzylovesmatt @y2kstarr @owensbabygirl @courta13 @ribbonlovergirl @passionfruitchris @sophand4n4 @slvtf0rchr1s @matts-wife @slutformatt17 @mattsplaything @slut4chrisloads @ariheartsmatt @surprisecurlyfriess @bernardsbendystraws @lezleeferguson-120 @iconiccolo @chrismoans

© zenithsturniolo

[madamechrissy]

Ebb and Flow

Pairing - Rafayel (LADS) x F! reader

Summary- Rafayel is being a BRAT, as usual, and asks you to just leave after a day out together. But then you realize he just doesn't feel good - turns out, Raf is actually in heat, whoopsie! - (This is from the ebb and flow memory of course, I just started falling for Raf HARD and here I am, making him fuck you during heat) 3.5k wc

Warnings - needy, desperate Rafayel, he has a breed kink like a mf, fingering, oral sex (f receiving) he really really needs to drink you all up, creampie, mating press, rougher sex, pleasure dom raf, but he's lowkey a switch hehe, pwp w/feelingsss

This is my first time writing him hehe, I have brainrot from Ebb and Flow :')

Rafayel is moody, pouty and just outright rude today. After all his antics, you're honestly not even mad he is asking you to just leave him alone. "Just go, ugh," he pouts as he crosses his arms, slouching down on his couch, the breeze of the warm air blowing his hair just so.

"You invited me out you know, I had shit to do today. What's up with you?" You cross your arms right back at him and he glares over at you.

"Well now I don't want to do anything, that place was boring, and it's so hot, ugh!" He collapses back on the couch, glaring over at you some more. "Why are you still here?"

"You're such a brat I swear, why do I put up with you?" You tug at the purse he's laying on now, and he doesn't move, just clicking his tongue and smacking your hand.

"Stop touching me!"

"I'm not you idiot, I need my bag." He pouts again, sighing and sitting up, letting you yank it out from under him. "You know what next time you come over I'm kicking you out."

"As if I want to hang out it your tiny fishbowl of an apartment."

"Rude! We can't all be millionaires." You scoff and sling your bag over your shoulder, shaking your head at the pretty, bratty man you are currently dealing with. He is usually fun and cute in his needy nature, it's off for him to push you away, but he seems to just be so done with everything today and whining about the heat.

"Are you still here?" He says then, shutting his eyes, you roll your own and shake your head.

"Bye then, my god," you turn to leave when he snatches you by your wrist, dragging you onto his lap and burying his face against your neck, making you feel just how hot he is. "Raf you're like a freaking space heater, what's going on?"

"Don't go," he whispers now, you get whiplash from him, sighing and putting down your purse, turning in his lap to look at him. "Stay with me."

"You're the most frustrating man, you know that?" He pouts again, and you instantly feel sorry for him, especially when you see sweat breaking out on his brow. "Are you feeling sick?"

"I'm fine... I'm just cold. I need you." He's got you tugged against him so tightly you're wincing at it, he's so warm you're sweating.

"You're not cold, you're burning. I need the thermometer- let me go, would you?" He's shaking his head now, pressing his lips on your skin, shocking you as he sucks it into his mouth, you feel your nipples tighten, gasping at the sensation.

"Mmm, just stay here, would you? Don't leave me, ever."

"You just kicked me out you know - mnh." He's got his big hands taking over your body, slipping down your waist, as he looks up at you, his eyes all glazed over, lips parted and glossy. You swallow nervously. "Can I get you a towel or something, you're all sweaty."

"Don't leave," he says again, confusing the shit out of you and nuzzling you right over your breasts now, burning your skin, thumbs now slipping right over your ass, and you feel your body react to his touch, his nearness. "You can't leave me again."

"I've never left you kicked me out, remember bratty boy?" You keep the tone teasing, biting your lip and gripping his broad shoulders while his lips decorate your collar bone with feverish kisses.

"I'm cold, need your hands everywhere," he takes one and puts it on his chest, you feel his heart racing.

"R-rafayel? What's going on?" He moans and whines out, rubbing his face all over your neck as you feel his head, burning up, his breath tickling on your neck, fingers brushing down your breasts softly. "You're sick, we need to take care of you."

"Mmm, you're so warm." He whispers, nuzzling against your neck, plump lips brushing your skin as you tremble, thighs pressing together while you touch his forehead with your lips.

"You need something for this fever, let me go get some water or something- ah! Raf!" You try to get up, but he pouts at you, yanking you by your wrist until you're sprawled on top of him, right between his spread thighs, his eyes are a dark violet, narrowed into a glare. "Let me get some!"

"Need you all over me," he's tugging you impossibly closer, wrapping strong arms around you, when you feel just how hot and hard he is under his dark slacks, making your cunt heat up and earning his moan. "Thirsty."

"Then let me get water! Raf what... ah!" He's pressing hungry kisses all along your chest, the two of you have gotten closer but you haven't stepped over that barrier just yet, your body responds to the hot fingers slipping up your skirt, his kisses hungrier as he finds your cunt over your panties. "Mnh!"

"Your heat, need to bury myself in it," his voice is drugged, his elegant fingers slipping under your panties to find your slit, already embarassingly wet. He looks under long lashes, sighing. "So thirsty."

"R-Rafayel, we need to cool you down and get you a drink. Is now the time for- mnh!" He's slipped two fingers deep in your cunt, stretching you and making you gasp, head falling back for more of his messy kisses. "Fuck..."

"Found the perfect source of heat, and so wet f'me, hmm?" you barely register as he flips you on your back, face flushed red from how over heated he is on his cheeks, your thighs are trembling on either side of him as his lips hover over yours. "Aren't you, cutie? gonna admit it? how much you want this?"

"I... you... you're delusional," you press on his chest and he smirks just a bit, lips even closer, pressing his cock against your soaked cunt, you feel how hard he already is, making your cunt throb around nothing. "I'm... you're..."

He kisses you then, while his hands are firm on your wrists, pinning them down and making you whine with just how much you're craving him, hips rolling up for more without even thinking. His tongue slips right into your mouth, possessing it, as your thighs press on either side of narrow hips.

"You're already soaking me," he whispers, the window is blowing in more of that warm, sticky air, the water gently brushing the sandy bank in soft waves as he kisses lower and lower, tugging on your top to reveal a pretty breast. "Look at this art."

"Ah!" You're at a loss as his mouth sucks in a peak, his eyes so dilated they're black as he sucks hard, one hand pinning a wrist while the other brushes down your body, up a thigh. "You really don't feel good, shouldn't we wait-"

"I'm tired of waiting," he huffs, usually so goofy and silly, there's none of that right now, only pure thirst, kissing further as he tugs at your top. "Take it off, now."

You don't expect the commanding tone, you lean up just a bit, but it's him who damn near rips your top off, freeing your breasts that sway just a bit for his gaze. He's slipping your skirt up your hips, licking a trail down the center of your skin, whining out as he gets closer to your heat.

"You're so warm here," he kisses your waist, nipping along your ribcage, finally getting his burning hot lips on your inner thigh, making you moan, the sound just making him harder. He's rutting his thick, leaky cock against the couch now, dying to paint your body in pretty patterns of white.

He can't stand how pretty you are like this, the sweat dripping from your body, leaving you in a pretty sheen, your skin just glistening for him as he eyes your cunt in those panties. You're so wet they're literally pressed up and sucked against you firmly, so he can see the soaking wet outline of your lips.

"Look, so much for me to drink already," he laps at your panties, your hands go into his dark violet locks before you can even think about it, the sensation torturous. "Mmm, you're wet for me, just me, aren't you cutie?"

"Who else you - Raf oh my -" He's yanked your panties to the side, baring your cunt for his eyes to feast on, watching the arousal gush from your hole now. "You're..."

"Thirsty." He repeats, brows low over his eyes as he watches you right as he licks a stripe up your slit, making you scream out, hips jerking up. He pins them down with his big hands, pressing a hungry kiss on your hood, tip of his tongue lapping more of the juices flowing, making your eyes roll back.

"Sensitive there- mmm!" He's honing in on it, lifting your hood with those artist's fingers, exhaling as he spots your little clit, licking in a slow, torturous circle as he watches you wriggle and squirm, your hands yanking his hair even tighter. "Ah!"

Rafayel slips two fingers back in, you feel the callouses pressing right on your spot as he curls them up, lashes casting shadows on flushed cheeks as he laps you up while he's slotting them inside you. You're screaming out now, uncaring as it echoes and carries outside to the private beach, earning his mouth getting even hungrier as he feels how hot your cunt is inside.

"Raf-ngh! There, please, fuck..." You're past caring, yanking on his hair and lifting your hips up for more, earning his groan as his cock starts leaking pre against silky boxers, sticking as your arousal drowns his mouth. "M-gonna- ah!"

"Cum then, let me drink all of it," he leans his cheek on your thigh for a moment, staring right at you longingly, still curling the fingers that your cunt drools on. "It'll make me feel better, cutie."

"You're crazy, I swear," he pulls out his fingers right before you cum, leaving you shaking, breathless and on edge. "Back in, back in, please."

"Now you're so sweet, hmm, fuck you're so warm," he's buried his tongue inside you instead, and you're lifting your hips up for more, as his hands press into your hip bones, lifting you like it's nothing towards his face. "Use me, that's it just do whatever you want to me, I'll let you."

He's too much.

You're done now, his straight nose bumping your little clit as the lavender highlights of his hair brush against your sensitive inner thigh. You're lost in the sensations, in his slurping like he is in a desert drinking you as if you're the only source of water, tongue so long inside your walls when he drags you even closer, letting you tug his head closer.

"Suffocate me, that's it," he's whispering, muffled on your cunt as you feel the pressure built in your tummy, his hot mouth and fingers bringing you even further, until you shatter all over him. You scream out as you gush all over Rafayel's pretty face, but he's drinking it all up so hungrily, slurping and moaning sounds obscene. "Ngh..." you hear him whining right with you, sipping every bit of your juices up in his mouth.

"Oh my god I- ah!" You're shaking as the orgasm washes over you, and he leans up then, face coated in your slick, kissing you with your sweetness on his plush lips, you taste yourself, hands slipping down his hard body hungrily, finding his cock and watching his eyes flutter shut. "Let me make you feel good too-"

"Need to be inside you, now," he huffs, swatting away your hands when you try to touch him, leaning back so big over you, his white dress shirt hanging so you see all of the muscles of his chest. "Need to breed you."

"Need to what now?" You're so disoriented, you barely get a chance to process his naked body, his hot and heavy cock slapping against his flat belly button when he stands, you go to touch him again and he smacks at your hand, making you giggle for a moment.

His glare just gets you more excited, gasping as he picks you up with one arm like it's nothing, carrying you over to the bed now, he throws you down on it, drenched in sweat now, chest heaving up and down as he tugs off your skirt, leaving you bare to him.

"Part of me wants to cum all over every inch of your body," you go to touch his chest but he pins your wrists down again, hands burning your delicate wrists as your breaths come in quick pants, so ready to have him inside you. Though looking at his long, pretty cock you're not even sure how it'll fit. "The other part needs to fill you, now."

"What is going on with you today!? Are you sure you're okay for any of - ah!" He's let your wrists go just to press your thighs up, smushing them against your breasts and looking at you with hungry, dark eyes.

"Fill you up, have to," he's like in some insane trance - a heat - you gasp when he presses his tip in, moaning as you grip it, the pretty pink of him stuffed inside your slutty, eager hole, looking down at you and sighing. "Beautiful."

"Raf you're really big and- oh fuck," you're whining as he gives you inch by inch, so slowly, your hands gripping his fancy, expensive sheets, soft as you crumple them, eyes rolled back in your skill. "So big I..."

"You can take it, all of it for me, hmm? All my cum, have my babies," he's shoved his cock fully in, tip slamming your cervix, you struggle to maintain any sense as it fills you so full, so hot and pulsing as it fills you. He leans on your thighs now, looking down at you folded for him. "Look at me, now."

"Mmm..." you try to open your eyes, so full of him, his hair falling over his brow as he moves then, pumping you so full of his cock, hitting spots in your walls you don't even know exist.

"That's it, fill you up, can you take me, all of me?" His words are hungry and desperate, whines from the back of his throat while he moves, harder and harder, thrusting so deep and losing himself more and more in you, that sweat from his burning hot body dripping onto your skin as his hands press your thighs down. "Can you?"

You manage a little nod as he exhales, fucking into you harder, whining out as his leaky tip presses your cervix, bottoming out inside you. "Rafayel! It's too much, mnh!"

"You can take all of me, can't you?" He lets your legs fall to the side, leaning low over you, the heels of your feet settle into the muscles of his lower back, his hands gripping your face. "I need you," you nod weakly, cunt gushing as she tries to stretch to accommodate, he slows the pace, kissing you again, and your hands slip up his biceps, nails pressing in, making him hiss. "You have claws, hmm?"

"Maybe," you whisper, eyes locking, and he loses it at just how pretty you are, kissing you again as he lifts a thigh, steadily fucking into your cunt deeper and deeper, rolling his hips just so and making you cum all around him.

"All that wetness, all that heat, I need it," his voice is so deep now, husky as he feels your aftershocks, watching your face so fucked out, mouth wide open, eyes rolled back. "Need you to look at me."

"F-fuck..." you hear it, the neediness, cunt pulsing around his cock still, opening them just a bit and slipping a hand up to his face, he takes it with his own, so big compared to yours, sighing.

"You're so beautiful, I wanna put so many babies inside you," you barely register what the fuck he's on about, it all feels too fucking good. He's starting to thicken, leaning up and bracing himself with one arm, the other finding your clit again. "Cum again, need all of you."

You're blinded when you make a mess of him, of his fancy sheets, cunt gushing so much wetness it's ridiculous, all for his eager eyes that are so dilated you no longer see the purple of them. He smiles as he looks at it, pulling that thumb and sucking your juices off it, before slipping up to his knees, grabbing your hips.

"Ready to take it all?" He whispers, you manage a weak nod as he cries out then, his head falling forward as he thrusts so deep inside you, cock pushing ropes and ropes of white filling you.

"Oh my- mmmh!" You're trembling as he fills you, he leans over and rests his head on yours, crying out hoarsely.

"Perfect, so warm, so wet, god I'm never leaving," he's in some fucking insane trance again, but you can't complain, not when he's lapping that cum out of you in just a few moments, not when he's murmuring - "again"

"Again!?" you whisper, he flips you over, nodding as he's fully hard and ready once more, pumping you so full you feel him everywhere, you're gasping as he presses you down into that bed, prone over you.

"Need more," he keeps whispering, lost inside you, feeling you trembling underneath his artist's fingers, painting you with little bruises as his mouth leaves love bites. After that he's got you cleaning up in a bath, but he can't stop himself from having you ride him, cunt so sore you're whining.

"Raf, what is going on... is this normal!?" You whisper after he's hard again inside you, he's cum at least four times and he's twitching inside you gummy, slick walls as he pulls you closer, water splashing all over your bodies and softly undulating as he bucks his hips up. "Ah! Raf..."

"Need you again." He whispers, you're lost in every sensation, curious just what has happened to him.

In the morning however, he's bright eyed and grinning, he's bought every donut known to man, they all like stupidly fancy, and he's got you your favorite boba.

"What... was that last night?" You wince as you stand up with his help, dressed in just one of his fancy silk dress shirts. He brushes fingers across all the marks he left, wondering if you're still dripping his cum. You touch his forehead, finding it cool again. "So weird, you were burning."

"You fixed me right up." He's smirking all adorable and charming, pulling you close. "Ready to eat, cutie? I got your faves."

Rafayel is bratty and silly as usual, pouting when you steal his favorite flavor of donut and leave him none of it, but when you go to leave later he gets really pouty. "I've got to work you know."

"No, don't go, please." He tugs you against him when you try to walk out the door. "I'll pay you way more to hang out with me today."

"Rafayel..."

"You can use me again," he whispers in your ear, smiling when you turn around and glare. "However you want, just don't go."

"You don't have a fever anymore you're fine now," You look back and he slips his fingers down your body, you tremble as all the memories of the night hit you slowly, making you heat up. "Oh fine."

"Yay!" He's all cute until you're right back under him, and he's painting your pretty body with those white ropes of cum, murmuring - Mine - over and over.

okayyy I just started rly getting into Raf so I hope you all enjoyyy <3

perm tags- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoblue-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: daddy kink

His phone rings twice before he manages to pick it up.

It’s buried beneath a stack of file folders, their manilla sleeves full of papers that say practically nothing, just big black strikethroughs all across the pages.

A waste of time.

You’re still at work too, at least you were the last time he checked, the little blue icon on the map showing your location at the bakery.

It’s well past seventeen hundred, and you should already be at home but when these last minute things come in, you have a hard time saying no.

For now.

He has a plan to rectify that.

The phone vibrates once, twice before he pulls it free, glancing at your name across the top of the screen and putting it to his ear. “Hi sweetheart-”

“D-daddy,” it’s jagged, covered by a reedy rasp, shortened breaths puffing into the microphone. The razored edge of his Captain mindset falls away to something else, and he softens his voice, coos at you over the echoing sandpapered gasps.

“Hey baby, what is it?” Cut to the chase. Identify the problem. Keep her calm. The answer to his question is a muffled sob, and someone’s high pitched, panicked voice in the background. His mind runs in a million different directions, paths splitting and multiplying, but they all lead to the same place. Eliminate.

“We were r-robbed, we were… they broke the door and m-made me open the safe.” Every vein, every blood cell, every single piece of his body turns to ice, and the door to his office nearly comes off its hinges as he rips it open. The hallway is a million miles as he charges through it, corner of the phone pressed so tight to his skin he thinks it might bruise, and when he spots Kyle at the end of the hall, he jerks his head, muting his end of the conversation for a second.

“Need you with me.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Someone held up the bakery. Don’t know more than that yet.” Kyle doesn’t press, he just falls in at his side, stride by stride, overtaking the distance to his truck until they’re screaming out of the lot towards the gate. The police scanner mounted on the dash is squawking.

String of burgs. Multiple businesses hit. Caller reporting burg just occurred two nine pine Pratt street.

“D-daddy,” you whimper, so small and so fucking terrified, his vision goes red with rage.

He’ll tear them limb from limb.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know- they… they grabbed me but I don’t th-think so.” He’ll kill them.

“Are they still there?”

“No, they… they left,” you hiccup and gasp, “Mara called… she called the police.”

“You’re sure they’re gone?” You choke on a sob. “It’s okay, deep breath. Just listen to me. Take a big breath, you can do it.” An inhale strangles its way through your lips, and then whistles back the way it came. “Good girl, that’s it. Are you sure they’re gone?”

“Yeah, they… they left when I called you, I called you- I didn’t know what to do I didn’t… I- I-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. ‘m almost there.” A squad car goes flying by them full lights and sirens, Kyle’s fist tightens on the wheel.

“You’re coming?” Your voice bleeds with hope.

“I’m coming baby.”

The police beat them there. Not by much, but with enough time that they’ve already made entry and contacted you and Mara, bringing you outside to where an ambulance waits.

You’re terrified. The medic is trying to urge you over but you’re immobile, shaking like a leaf with your fingers clutching one another, eyes wide and wet.

When you catch a glimpse of him striding towards you, your body loses its battle, limp muscles failing to hold you up and sending you careening to the ground. He makes it just in time to catch you by the waist.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he cups the back of your head, curling his shoulders to shield you, “I’m here, I’m right here. Daddy’s here.” You don’t respond. He knows your words are failing you, and he has no desire to force them forward. Instead, he looks over at the medic. “Did you get to look at her yet?” She shakes her head.

“She wouldn’t let me get close enough.” He cups your cheek and chin to pull your face away.

“The medic is going to look you over.” He’s very firm. There’s no room for negotiation, and your uncertainty from earlier rings between his ears. You shuffle as he leads you to a spot where you can sit, still clinging to him, too afraid to let go. When he stands, a terrified nose echoes in your throat. “I’m not goin’ anywhere sweet girl, I’ll be right here with you, alright?”

You nod.

He holds you the entire time, keeping you calm as they check your pupils, asking about pain, dizziness, anything abnormal. It doesn’t take long, and once you’ve passed the exam, he carefully loads you into the passenger seat of the truck before finding Gaz.

He’s sitting on the curb next to Mara, her face blank except for the wrinkle between her brow.

“I’m gonna take her home in a minute, drive her car.” He motions to the sedan in the back of the parking lot, and Mara shivers.

“Alright,” There’s a small gleam in Kyle’s eye, barely there but lurking in the depths of his pupils, and if he wasn’t so grim, he’d smirk. “Take care of her.” His nod is solemn.

“I will.”

You don’t speak.

He gets you in and out of the shower, into clean clothes and settled at the kitchen table with some light dinner in front of you, all without a single word. You’re responsive at least, following commands, listening, open your mouth when he holds a spoon of soup up to it. When you swallow, he praises.

“Good job baby.” You don’t ask for more, you just sit there, a hand on his thigh, fingers gripped tight like you’re trying to hang on. “Are you getting full?” The entire bowl is nearly gone, but you still don’t answer.

He won’t push. Everyone deals with traumatic experiences differently, violent experiences, and he doesn’t care how long it will take you to process it all. He’ll be right here through it.

You sniffle and sag against the chair. Your energy is completely depleted as he expected, and the soup will have to be enough for now.

“Alright sweetheart, c’mon. Let’s get you into bed.”

Instinct tells him to leave the hall light on and crack the door, carefully extracting himself long enough to get changed and refill your water bottle, talking to your silent form the whole time, telling you where he’s going, what he’s doing. Your eyes don’t leave his for a second, though the light seems to soothe some of the anxiety marring your face.

When he finally gets back in bed and pulls you close, you break apart, burying your face in his chest to sob.

All he can do is hold you.

[anglbunny]

TOUCH UP

♡. dyeing their hair while sitting on their lap w/otoya and shidou... VERY suggestive mdni, hair dyeing, sitting on their lap, based on this req

OTOYA EITA

“You’re hard,” you whisper, frozen, brush mid-stroke over his stupid little green strand.

Otoya shrugs beneath you, shameless. He’s lounging back in the chair, long legs spread, hands resting on your hips as if you’re his personal armrest. The bulge under you is unmistakable—thick, hot, twitching against your core through thin layers of clothes.

“Yeah,” he says, cool as ever. “I have this gorgeous girl straddling me and playing with my hair. What did you expect?”

You shoot him a look. “I’m dyeing your hair. This isn’t supposed to be—”

“Hot?” he cuts in, smirking as his hands flex, rocking your hips just enough to make you gasp. “Sorry, baby, but you’re sittin’ on my lap, wearing those little shorts, touching me all gentle like that… You have to know what you’re doing.”

“I’m literally just trying to fix your roots.”

“Mhm,” he hums, dragging one palm up your spine, slow and heavy. “And you’re grinding on me just a little each time you lean forward. You sure you’re trying to fix me?”

You try to focus—really, you do—but his cock presses up against your heat every time he breathes and your thighs are shaking. He leans forward, lips brushing your collarbone.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “Keep going. Pretend I’m not rock hard. Pretend you’re not soaking through your panties.”

You shudder.

He grins.

"Or," he whispers, hand sliding under your shirt, "you could use me instead. Grind on it. Take what you want. You’re already in the perfect position, pretty thing."

You shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

But the dye dries half-finished.

And his lap is soaked by the end of it.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

“Don’t move,” you scold, fingers combing through Shidou’s blond hair as you section off another piece to retouch his tips. You’re straddling his lap, thighs caging him in, towel slung across his shoulders, gloves smudged with dye.

He hums lazily beneath you, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands grip your hips. Not when his thumbs slide under your waistband. Not when he’s been hard since the second you climbed into his lap.

“This is torture, y’know,” he says, smirking up at you through hooded eyes. “You sittin’ all pretty on me… makin’ those little concentration faces while your thighs squeeze around me?”

“You asked me to fix your hair,” you mutter, ignoring how hot your face is.

He grins, unbothered. “I didn’t think you’d do it in those tiny ass shorts. But I’m not complaining.”

You start applying the dye again but his fingers are already creeping up the backs of your thighs, squeezing the soft skin, shifting you just slightly against the bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’re unbelievable,” you breathe, glaring.

Shidou’s voice drops, wicked and low: “You’re on my dick, telling me I’m the problem?”

You go still—his cock pressing right against the seam of your underwear, thick and twitching. You feel everything. And he knows it.

He tilts his head, mocking sweet. “C’mon, baby. Rub against it a little. ‘S not like I’ll stop you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you whisper, thighs clenching.

He grins wider, tongue running across his teeth. “And you’re wet. Wanna see if you can dye my hair with how messy you’ll get if I move just right?”

You shove a palm against his forehead. “Shut up so I can finish.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “c'mon, move a little, just a tiny bit, princess, grind down on it and I’ll give you a prize.”

“What prize?”

He laughs, filthy and breathless. “Me. With my mouth. On my knees. Worshipping every inch of you for being such a good girl.”

You don’t finish the tips.

You finish first.

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @greekyoghurtwithberries

A/n: for my pretty girl, im sorry i did this so late

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[megapteraurelia]

roommates!osasuna who kiss you in turns on the couch: osamu's lips are slow and alluring, full of intent. suna's kisses are deeper, lazier, like he's savouring every second. you lose track of who kisses you next, whose fingers are slipping under your shirt, whose palm is pressing low against your back.

you're drunk on the attention, drunk on the warm, lingering touches, drunk on their love.

roommates!osasuna who always forget a towel when showering. you all do. half the time there's a naked sunarin yelling across the apartment and osamu throwing a towel at him, before leaning against the door frame to watch.

"ya look like you need help."

"i'm good."

"don't think so. move."

roommates!osasuna who love praising you but in different ways. osamu is all soft and coaxing, always starting slow, voice a deep murmur like velvet. you're sprawled between them, your knees spread wide across osamu's lap, head tipped back against suna's shoulder.

when you arch against his grip, osamu cups your face, tenderly, "there she is. my good girl. takin' us so well, sweetheart."

and when he kisses your chest, the valley between them, your stomach and down, he murmurs between each one, "so gorgeous when ya fall apart f'me. every single time."

his words make you feel like you're adored, like you're owned, like he's there to guide you and catch you on a cloud.

suna, though.

now suna's voice is sharp, edged with filth. like he wants you to feel embarrassment and shame amplified with the arousal between your thighs. osamu's mouthing at your skin, his warm big hands roaming your body, his cock a slow heave into you, but suna's hands are cruel and fast the way they played with your clit without remorse, ignoring your jerking hips.

"dripping and messy. imagine somebody saw you like this, they'd think you were some desperate little slut."

"rin," osamu would cut in, a warning in his voice, but the way his cock throbs inside you and his hips jerk involuntarily makes you think that he likes suna's nasty comments just as much.

suna's nothing but sharp-eyed, a cruel slow curl of a smile on his face, "look at you, all serious like you're not two seconds away from busting right inside her."

he doesn't stop the attack on your swollen nub, but they stutter once when a shadow flits over you. mouth open, drooling, ears hot, your eyes barely recognise the shape of osamu's arm above you, his hand grabbing suna's neck, fingers wrapped around his throat. his thumb presses under his jaw just enough to tilt his face up.

he holds suna rintaro like he is on a leash.

"ye talk a lot for someone i could fold in half right now."

roommates!osasuna who both reach for you at the same time without looking. it happens so often now that you don't even think about it; when there's two hands on your waist, or your shoulders, on your thighs, warm and grounding, it feels like love doubled. sometimes they bump heads reaching for a kiss, and you take care to kiss each of them with intention.

roommates!osasuna who declares the kitchen to be a suna-and-you-free zone. suna sneaks in to hug osamu anyway, fingers quick and sneaky in stealing a bite off the cutting board. he tries to bring enough so you both can share outside osamu's reach, but osamu's quick, hand already shooting out to grasp suna's wrist.

"off."

roommates!osasuna who regularly team up to ambush you.

you're just trying to grab some water, really, it's nothing crazy, you're not doing anything. yet suddenly, suna's behind you, his hands at your waist, whispering something filthy in your ear.

you turn around to escape one of them and run right into osamu's chest. he doesn't budge, wide and steady, only takes your chin between fingers and slightly shakes it, "what's got ye so flustered, hm?"

roommates!osasuna who have been bickering all day. it's just the usual back-and-forth, forgettable and fun, except this time, when osamu's in the kitchen, wiping his hands from the snacks he insists on making for you two, who are lazing around on the couch and in all honesty, probably didn't deserve being spoiled like that.

osamu's eyebrows are furrowed as he works in concentration, calm and in this particular work flow that he always falls into when he gives his entire attention and his all. which is why suna looks really fucking bored.

watching osamu move, his shoulders broad, teeth pressed together (probably not really healthy for his jaw), and the effortless way he handles himself in the kitchen, he really can't help it.

he mutters, just loud enough for his voice to be carried over to osamu, but still directed at you, "you know, baby, for a guy with all those muscles, he's awfully soft, no?"

osamu doesn't even pause, just dries his fingers off with a dish towel, so suna continues, his nose brushing your throat which you acknowledge with an eye roll because you know exactly where this is going, "bet you hold him down more than he does with you. look at him, he's probably blushing already."

this time, he does turn at that, a slow and deliberate movement; no blush on his face in sight, but when he's approaching you two and you register the look in his eyes, it has your stomach flip nervously and suna's eyebrows raise.

"ya got a short memory, rin," he says, really soft and really amused. one hand of his brushes the hair out of suna's face, tucks the slightly longer strands behind his ear, fingers trailing back to then grasp a handful of his hair to tug.

"wanna say somethin' smart again?"

suna grins, because he's an asshole. because he enjoys the feel of osamu's grip tightening on his hair, "please. like you could ever hold me down."

there's a shift in the room, the way osamu's breath draws in through his nose. the subtle flex of his fingers on the back of suna's head. the way osamu's body suddenly feels bigger, closer, meaner.

he tugs, hard, away from the couch, so suna really doesn't have any choice but to follow, but to be pushed against the floor on his back, shirt askew, cheeks flushing already despite the mischievous glint in his eyes. osamu's one hand is quick to wrap tightly around both of suna's wrists, his hips suddenly grinding down slow and hard.

his other hand presses down on suna's abdomen, and rin can't help the instinctive jerking of his muscles at the touch, not when it's combined with the heavy weight of osamu's, feeling his breath caress his ears, caged by the man, who slowly works him open — hands, mouth, teeth.

a bruising kiss, claiming suna's mouth with his own, osamu's tongue slides in deep as his hips roll once, twice, just enough to pull a sound out of the black-haired menace, one that isn't a word at all, but a strangled moan.

and when he tugs on his wrists, osamu tightens his grip.

"ya like seein' him like this, don'tcha, sweetheart?"

transfixed with the display of suna rutting against osamu like he's searching for any friction at all, what else could you do other than nod, your throat dry?

"he's so pretty when he stops pretending he's in control," osamu muses, half a growl in his tone, and suna groans, a slight hint of embarrassment, a whole lot of arousal. he glares at osamu, he tries, but he's panting, his pupils blown wide, hips moving of their own accord.

osamu's head dips again, lips brushing suna's jaw, leaving a mark on his skin, "think we should show her what yer sound like when you cum beggin'?"

"you're," he breathes out, eyes glazing, "fuckin' sick."

"say that with yer mouth full, pretty boy."

suna opens his mouth to retort, but osamu cuts him off with a sharp grind of his hips, pressing hard right against the bulge in suna's pants. there was a slight gasp, his breath catching, thighs shaking ever so slightly.

"fuck—"

"no talkin' now," osamu mutters, "not until i tell ya to."

and he does keep going, fingers trailing up to bury themselves into suna's mouth, pressing down on his tongue, whilst there was slow pressure on suna's cock, the drag of heavy friction having him squirming and twitching beneath him, trying to get more without asking. because suna's pride is too damn annoying.

until osamu stills, with weight on his hips, with the pressure around his wrists, with his fingers slowly pulling out of his mouth, gripping suna's jaw, fingertips digging into his cheeks.

"ya want more? beg."

suna's eyes narrow, his voice hoarse from osamu, "you're gonna make me—"

squeezing his face, osamu cuts him off again, "didn't ask for yer commentary. said beg."

your knees are pulled to your chest, one hand pressed between your thighs, the pulsing strong. god, they look so good like this, suna all flushed and restless, osamu on top, muscles bulging at holding him down. your fingers slip into your panties and it's no surprise at how wet you find yourself, how swollen your clit, how easily your fingers dip into your heat.

osamu's eyes flick towards you when a slight moan escapes you, and he drinks you in, a promise in his eyes that has your thighs press together, caging your hand in.

"last chance, rin," he says, but his gaze is still heavy on yours.

for a second there's silence, suna's chest rising and falling fast, his pride warring with his need, with his cock searching fulfilment, with his flushed face between osamu's unyielding grip.

his mouth parts, and the word is just a mutter, raw, "please."

osamu finally looks back, but he doesn't move, still.

"dunno if i heard ya right, say it louder f'me."

"please," suna struggles against osamu's grip, back arching to get him to move, to continue pleasuring him, to do something. his voice was rough, wrecked, "touch me. fuck me. whatever the hell you want."

looking down, suna's lips are swollen, a blush settled on his face, his hair clinging to his forehead, damp, chest expanding and falling deeply, heavily, but oh, his eyes — so glazed, so needy, like he's ready to take anything osamu gives him.

then osamu looks at you: your parted lips, the movement of your hand in your pants, the little breathless moans falling from your mouth, and it all just slots itself together so easily in his brain.

"look at 'er," osamu murmurs low, rising from where he was sprawled out on suna, "sittin' there bein' so good."

there's confusion etched on suna's face, in his eyebrows that furrow, in the way his mouth twists into a grimace at the loss of touch, but when his gaze reluctantly settles on you, his expression shifts, ever so slightly, a desire hard in his eyes, wanting, torn — he swallows.

"be good for once, rin," osamu's foot presses down onto suna's clothed dick once, enough for a strangled ahh to escape him, before he nods over to you, his voice almost kind, "go take care of her."

suna's jaw tightens, his eyes wandering over to osamu, at the promise that he was dangling in front of him like he was a horse getting played with a carrot; his pride twitches and he stares up at osamu staring down, the raised eyebrows that ask him whether he really wanted to challenge him.

"you serious?"

"dead. get on yer knees."

suna's hands are rough when they push apart your thighs, when he sinks to the floor in front of you, fingers impatient to tug down your pants, his voice annoyed, eyes settled on you and you grow slicker underneath his heady gaze, "are you going to fuck me if i make her cum?"

osamu sits back behind him, on the couch table, arms folded, "depends on how well ya do."

suna's mouth latches on to your cunt with no moment wasted, and osamu's voice cuts through your moans and whines, sometimes giving soft instructions that suna follows with a reluctant edge to it, even though his cock rubs against the couch, heat pooling low in his groin at osamu's praise. his jaw suckles, tongue lapping up your juices, fingers pressing your legs apart wider and wider until there was a deliciously painful stretch in your hips.

suna eats you out like he'll die if he won't. spitting on your pussy, his fingers slap away yours, curling deep within you, your gummy walls sucking him in so easily until you came with a start, back arching.

and osamu can only hold out so long at the sight of his two favourite people, despite his words, despite his plan to make suna regret acting up. so it's only natural that his fingers find suna's flesh to dig in, his voice low and strained, telling sunarin to collect your wetness to lather his cock with so he can bury himself into him.

getting his mouth fucked into your pussy, suna thinks he's got to do it more often.

roommates!osasuna who relish in the full feeling swinging in the air, in the scent of sweat and sex and satisfaction; a comfortable, golden moment of silence, soaked with warmth. it lingers underneath your skin, propels your heart to beat soundly.

suna's slumped on the floor between your thighs, lips slick and swollen, hair mussed, blinking slowly. his smirk is long gone, cheek resting against your leg, wet fingers on your knee like he doesn't want to stop touching you just yet.

osamu's shirt is half off, his collarbone dusted in sweat, a flush to his face creeping up his neck; there's a cut on his lip — bitten red and bloody; his hands roam suna's body, calloused fingertips brushing circles into his skin.

"can't feel my jaw," suna speaks into your thigh, his voice hoarse, and there's a tired blink to his eyes.

behind him, osamu hums, slow and unbothered, "good."

you laugh, breathless, choked, and your fingers card through suna's sweaty strands of hair, nails scratching his scalp, "you did well, babe."

leaning over suna's pliant self, osamu kisses your shoulder, then your neck, his finger reaching down to tug suna's earring gently. voice quieter, almost tender, "c'mon, shower or bed?"

a grumble, "bed. you carrying me?"

"ya wish."

"fuckass."

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TAGLIST | @reignpage (i'm sorry for the ping, reign, i'm just!!! i cannot get them outta my head!!!); @sodaneko (YOUR FAULT HATE HATE HATE /pos) ; @takes1 ; @classicalelephant ; @pomigranit ; @sugacor3 ; @boktuoafterdark

[ninisdollie]

kiss it better - nishimura riki 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“In which reader teaches her dear friend how to treat a woman right. Or in which reader teaches ni-ki how to give head” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ Content: +18MDNI

fem! reader x ni-ki, friends to lovers, usage of riki and ni-ki, oral sex (f. rec), masturbation (f), reader is in charge, fingering, spitting, face riding, needy! ni-ki, pussy drunk! ni-ki (he’s a mess) grinding, coming undone, slight voye.

hate comments will be deleted and blocked !! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

Summer trip was always fun with your friend group. But this year was one of your favourites, there was nothing like spending the day on a tanning bed beneath the burning sun, chewing on fresh watermelon after a dive in the beautiful clear waters of the ocean, surrounded by your favorite people in the whole world. 

The hotel pool glowed under the summer night, wrapped in string lights and the kind of drunken laughter that only came when everyone forgot about the world outside vacation. Music pulled from a speaker, bass steady. The air smelled like sunscreen and chlorine and you were tasting something fruity on your tongue from the drink you just finished. 

You had just slid back into the water, the chill clinging to your skin as you moved through the shallow end. Your bikini hugged your body, still damp from earlier, and your hair stuck to your shoulders in soft waves. Most of your friends where on the deck now, draped across pool chairs or sprawled on towels, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth and yelling about nonsense. 

Ni-ki was the only one still on the water. 

He floated on his back with his eyes closed, legs lazily moving to keep him afloat, looking so relaxed like he didn’t have a single care in the world. So him. 

You swam closer, water swirling around your waist, and nudged his side with your hand. 

“You’ll drown” 

“Let me.” He murmured, not even opening his eyes “Feels like a good way to go.” 

A small laugh left your lips. 

“Dramatic.” 

Ni-ki opened one eye then, just enough to flash you a lazy smile 

“Says the girl who almost cried when we splashed on her drink.” 

“That was an expensive drink.” 

“You’re expensive” He shot back, quickly. 

That caught you off guard, and you blinked. 

It wasn’t even that serious, just Ni-ki being Ni-ki. But still, it stuck. Hit something strange and sudden in your chest. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his gaze lingered a bit too long before flicking away. You’d always thought he was cute. Objectively, anyways. It wasn’t like you were blind, Ni-ki was tall and lean and had that perfect face that made even simple hoodies and cotton sweatpants look good. He was your friend, sure, you’d known him for years now. The same friend that threw up on your lap in Sunghoon’s backseat last summer, the same friend that stole your notes because he never did his homework on time. But that never stopped the thoughts that stuck in your head sometimes, thoughts you never let stay. 

But for some reason, tonight felt different. 

He ducked under the water suddenly, disappearing from your view. You barely had time to react before strong hands grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you with a splash, so easily. 

You shrieked, laughing, trying to escape. 

“Ni-ki!” 

He just laughed, breathless and smug as you turned and splashed him back, right in the face. You were both soaked now, your bikini clinging tighter to your tanned skin, water streaming down your neck. 

Ni-ki was still close, enough to feel the warmth radiating off him even in the cool water. His hands already dropped from your waist, but you could still feel them. 

You felt your breathing shake as your eyes met his. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite name. Like heavy and charged. 

Then he blinked, swam backwards, and said casually. 

“Alright. I’m bored.” 

You barely had time to ignore the feeling before Heeseung called out from his chair, arms spread like he was announcing something big. 

“Let’s play a game.” He said “Truth or dare.” 

Jake made a face. 

“We always do that. I’ve lost the count on the amount of times I’ve licked Sunghoon’s neck” 

Your friends laughed at him, and you chuckled under your breath. 

“Never have I ever then. Loser has to buy all our drinks tomorrow.” 

Groans followed, but no one said no. You all gathered near the edge, some wrapped in towels and half-drunk already. 

You ended up sitting next to Ni-ki, still damp, still trying to ignore the echo of his hands on your waist. 

The game started innocent as always. 

“Never have I ever lied to a date.” 

“Never have I ever faked an orgasm”

“Never have I ever cheated” 

The group slowly loosened between sips, laughter and more laughter, getting louder and messier by the second. 

“Okay, I have one.” Heeseung then leaned in, grinning. “Never have I ever gone down on someone” 

A few hands went up, including yours. 

You didn’t look around, didn’t think much of it, but then you noticed that Ni-ki didn’t move. 

He just sat there, calm, fingers tapping slowly on the ground. Then you turned your head. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

He looked at you, then shrugged. 

“Yeah.” 

Heeseung just stared. 

“Wait wait wait - you’ve never gone down on a girl?” 

Ni-ki shook his head. 

“Nope.” 

Sunoo gasped, hand flying to his chest 

“What? Riki, oh my god!” 

Heeseung was already laughing 

“Bro. That’s practically illegal.”

Jake leaned in like he was interrogating him. 

“You scared of it or something?” 

Ni-ki scoffed and pushed him. 

“Shut up.” 

Sunghoon smirked

“So, what’s the reason?” 

Ni-ki leaned back on his elbows, his expression unreadable. He didn’t look embarrassed, but he didn’t look thrilled by their teasing either. You didn’t expect it, to be honest, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a playboy, but he wasn’t a saint either, you’d seen him a thousand times shoving down his tongue in random girls throats at parties. 

“I just haven’t found the right person yet.” 

That only made the boys laugh louder. Heeseung clutched his chest and someone said something about how he was a “certified mouth virgin”. 

You watched Ni-ki stay still through it all, quiet. 

Something in your chest pulled tight, and you sat up a little straighter. 

“Okay, enough.” You said, cutting through the noise “What are we? Twelve?” 

The group quieted a little, eyes turning to you. 

“He’s just waiting for the right person, that’s not a bad thing.”  You glanced at Ni-ki, met his eyes again. He looked back at you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or grab your hand. “It’s not that deep. Honestly, most guys think they know how to do it, just doing it doesn’t mean you’re good at it.” 

Ni-ki still hadn’t looked away from you. 

But as the group moved on, laughing at the next prompt, the air between you didn’t shift back. It felt heavier.

The hotel was quiet now, after the chaos of earlier. You could still hear faint laughter from somewhere down the hall, someone’s speaker muffled behind the closed doors, but for the most part, you started to settle. 

Your skin smelled like sunscreen and coconut from your body spray as you stood at the sink in your oversized tee and underwear, hair half-damp and twisted into a towel, the bathroom mirror foggy from your shower. Your limbs ached in a satisfying way that only summer could bring. 

You were just about to crawl into bed when the knock came. 

One, two, three soft raps, hesitant. 

You froze for a second, staring at your reflection wondering who could it be this late at night. Then you padded across the room and peeked through the peephole, opening the door without thinking. 

Ni-ki stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, hair damp and curling slightly around his ears. 

“Hey.” He said. 

You blinked, a bit surprised about his visit and the unsettling look on his face. 

“Hey. Everything okay?” 

He nodded, but didn’t move. 

Then you stepped back, opening the door a little wider.

“Wanna come in?” 

He didn’t answer, just walked in, quiet, his presence filling your small hotel room instantly. You shut the door behind him, suddenly too aware of how you were dressed, and the silence between you two. 

He looked around, then sat on the edge of the bed like he’d done it a thousand times before. 

But now it felt different. 

“You good?” You asked again, crossing your arms trying to play it cool. 

He nodded again, slower this time. 

“Yeah. I just… couldn’t sleep.” 

You leaned against the dresser, watching him. He was staring at the carpet, then at his hands. Then up at you. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He admitted and your heart thudded. 

“What part?” 

“That it’s not about doing it, it’s about knowing how to treat someone.” He paused. “No one’s ever said that to me before.” 

You swallowed, his voice was lower now, like each word was deliberate. 

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you” you said. 

“I wasn’t embarrassed.” He replied “I just… never talked about it out loud.” 

There was a long pause, and you waited, but he didn’t look away. 

“I think that’s why I came here.” 

Your pulse skipped. 

“To talk?” you asked, even thought you were sure that wasn’t what he meant. 

He smiled a little but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Kind of.” 

You stepped a little closer before you could overthink it, the soft carpet sinking under your feet. You were standing between his knees now, and he was looking up at you from the edge of the bed. 

“Riki” You said softly “Why did you come here?” 

You knew the answer.

But the silence that followed cracked open something between you, something thick and heavy and real. You felt it settle over your shoulders, wrap around your ribs. Your skin prickled with awareness, his breath, your proximity, the weight of what you weren’t saying.

“Because I want to know what it’s like.”

Your breathed deep. 

“What what’s like?”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. 

“To be with someone who actually wants to teach me. Who doesn’t think I’m weird for not knowing. Who… wants me to get it right.”

You stared at him.

He wasn’t smiling now. He wasn’t teasing. He looked serious, vulnerable, even. And it did something to you. Twisted something deep in your stomach. This was your friend, that not only trusted you enough to ask you this but you also thought he was cute and hot and perfect. 

The room felt hot. Too small. Too quiet. His thumbs rubbed slow circles into your thighs now, and you realized he hadn’t looked away from you once.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Then come here.”

Ni-ki shifted before he could even think, his hands sliding up to your hips like instinct. And when he leaned forward, lips brushing yours, it was cautious at first. Feather-light. Testing.

You tilted your head and leaned into it.

The kiss deepened slowly, like water spilling over the edge of a full glass. His mouth was warm, hesitant but eager, lips moving with just enough pressure to make your knees weaken. You could feel the tremble in him, like he was holding back, waiting to be told it was okay to want this. To want you. So you gave it to him. One hand slipped into his hair, anchoring, and the other trailed down his jaw, guiding him as your mouths melted into each other. His breath hitched against your lips when you sucked gently on his bottom one, and he made the softest, most desperate sound, half whimper, half groan. He opened his mouth and his tongue crashed with yours, wet sounds as you tasted his saliva on your own, sighing softly against him feeling how his fingers dig into the bare skin of your thighs. 

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth.

“Get on your knees, Riki.”

He blinked up at you, dazed, lips red, eyes wide.

And then he obeyed.

His hands slid down your thighs as he sank slowly to the floor in front of you. Kneeling. Breath shallow. Waiting.

Completely at your mercy.

He looked up at you, already breathless. You could see it in his face, that eager, desperate curiosity masked by restraint. Like he was doing everything he could not to touch. Not to beg.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Just reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, intentionally slow. You felt his gaze drag over every inch of skin as it was revealed, your bare breasts in front of him, nipples hard the second the cold air of the room touched them. His pupils were already blown wide, jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react. You dropped the shirt beside you, left in just your panties. 

The overhead light was off, but the warm hotel lamp behind him painted your skin gold, throwing soft shadows along your collarbones, the curve of your stomach, the tops of your thighs.

Ni-ki looked like he’d stopped breathing.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded too fast. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I just—fuck.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Rough and a little hoarse, like it had scraped his throat just coming out.

You slipped your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear.

His eyes dropped instantly.

You swore you saw his fingers flex again, digging into his jeans like it physically hurt not to reach for you.

You slid them down slowly, stepping out of them with a grace that felt foreign even to yourself, because god, the way he was looking at you was doing something to your head. Like you were the first naked girl he’d ever seen. Like he didn’t know what to do with the sight of you. Your bare intimacy was in front of him now, and you were dripping, glistening arousal that you hadn’t even noticed until that point, pulsing and needy and wanting him. 

When you stood fully bare in front of him, you saw his throat bob as he swallowed. Hard.

“Still okay?” you asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you like you were unreal. Like you weren’t even part of the same world.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed out, like it slipped from him without warning. “I don’t—what the fuck.”

Heat crawled up your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like that. Not with that kind of reverence. Not like he was wrecked by just seeing you.

“You wanna learn how to do this right?” you asked, stepping closer until your knees touched the edge of the mattress.

He nodded, already breathless. 

“Yeah. I want to learn everything.”

You smiled, heart pounding, then gently climbed onto the bed.

“Then watch me,” you whispered against his lips, not kissing him yet. “And listen to me. I’ll show you exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”

Settling back against the pillows until you were laying flat, you parted your legs just enough to keep him staring.

His breath audibly caught.

From below, he had the clearest view. Your skin glowing under the dim bedside lamp, the soft rise and fall of your chest, your thighs spread open with nothing hidden. Your dripping, swollen pussy. You watched his eyes flick from your face to between your legs, and stay there.

“You still with me?” you asked, your voice low and teasing.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve never—fuck, I’ve never seen anyone like this. Like you.”

Your core tightened at the way he said it, raw, reverent.

You bent one knee, dragging your heel up onto the mattress, spreading yourself more for him, breathing heavily, your heart pumping against your chest and your pussy pulsing under his gaze.

“Then pay attention,” you murmured, bringing your fingers between your thighs. “I’m gonna show you how I like it.”

Ni-ki looked wrecked already, and you hadn’t even touched yourself yet.

You started slow, fingers gliding down to part yourself gently. Your other hand gripped the sheets beside your ribs as you circled your clit, slow and lazy. Soft breaths fell from your lips.

You let your eyes drift shut for a moment, focusing on the warmth building low in your stomach. But you could feel his eyes on you. Could almost hear the tension in his throat as he swallowed thickly, breathing uneven.

“Can you see?” you asked, voice hazy, cracked at the edges.

“Yeah,” he said, too fast. “Yeah, I can see everything.”

You glanced down at him through your lashes. He looked dazed. Kneeling obediently between your legs, jaw tense, his hands fisted at his sides like touching himself would break whatever spell you’d put him under.

“Does it make sense now?” you breathed, dragging your fingers lower to gather slick and bring it back up, circling with a bit more pressure. “It’s not about being rough. It’s about paying attention.”

Ni-ki exhaled hard. 

“You’re fucking unreal.”

A faint smirk tugged at your lips. You were soaked already, turned on by your own touch—but also by him. The way he looked at you. Like he was watching something sacred. Like he’d get on his knees for you again and again if it meant seeing you like this.

You kept your eyes on him as your fingers moved, lazy, deliberate circles that made your hips twitch every now and then. You weren’t putting on a show. This was real. You wanted him to see what it looked like when it was good. When someone took their time. When someone cared.

And judging by the look on his face, Ni-ki was already on the edge of losing his mind.

Still on his knees, his jaw was tight, lips parted like he kept forgetting how to breathe. His hands had fisted into the hem of his hoodie, knuckles pale from the grip. You could see how tense his thighs were. You could see the bulge against his jeans, hard and throbbing. How his chest rose and fell too fast.

You tilted your head, voice smooth and low. 

“You want to touch me, don’t you?”

His eyes shot up to yours, wide and ruined. 

“So bad.”

You let out a soft hum, letting your fingers slow, just enough to keep the pleasure alive.

“I know,” you said. “You’ve been staring like you’re starving.”

“I am,” he groaned, frustrated. “You’re—fuck, you’re driving me insane.”

You gave him a slow, lazy smile. 

“Good. That means it’s working.”

He let out a strangled breath, his hands twitching again, like he didn’t know whether to beg or fall apart.

“Can I… please?” he tried, his voice rough. “Just a little—let me touch you.”

“You are touching me,” you said sweetly, dragging your fingers through your slick just to show him. You brought them to your mouth, tasting yourself on them before sliding them between your legs again “With your eyes. Can’t you feel it?”

He looked like you’d punched the air out of him.

“Don’t worry,” you added, voice a little lower, “I want you desperate.”

He exhaled shakily, dropping his gaze to your thighs again. His whole body was tense, on edge, like he was fighting every urge in his body to crawl up the bed and ruin the distance between you.

“You said you wanted to learn,” you reminded him. “So listen when I tell you this, Riki.”

He looked up again. Waiting. 

“Pussy isn’t about technique. Not really. You can memorize all the tricks, flick your tongue every direction—but none of it matters if you’re not obsessed with the way she tastes. The way she feels when she’s shaking under you. The way she moans when you find the spot that makes her legs tremble.”

He blinked like he wasn’t breathing again.

“And if you’re not ready to worship her,” you whispered, dragging your fingers slow and deep between your folds, “then you’ve already failed.”

“Holy fuck,” he choked out, his voice barely a sound.

Your smile turned wicked. 

“I haven’t even let you touch me yet and you’re falling apart. What do you think’s gonna happen when I put your mouth here?”

He groaned and tilted forward slightly on his knees, like the weight of your words pushed him closer.

You paused your hand and raised a brow. 

“Getting needy?”

He nodded quickly, voice rough. 

“Please. You’re killing me.”

Your chest rose with slow, smug satisfaction. He was so close—so close to breaking.

“You wanna taste me that bad?” you asked.

He licked his lips. 

“So bad I think I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

You let your hand drop from between your legs and spread your thighs a little wider, baring yourself completely for him, your wetness dripping between your folds until you were soaking the bed beneath you.

“Then come closer,” you said softly.

He crawled forward the second you gave him permission, kneeling between your legs like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do. His hands hovered just above your thighs, like he still wasn’t sure if he could touch you yet. You reached down and threaded your fingers into his hair, gently tugging until he looked up at you. 

“Slow,” you murmured. “I want you to take your time.” 

He swallowed hard. 

“Okay.”

 “Start soft,” you said. “Don’t rush. Just… taste.”

He nodded, breath catching like he was trying to anchor himself, but his hands were already trembling as they finally landed on your thighs. His touch was reverent, almost like he thought you’d vanish if he wasn’t careful. He leaned in slowly, plump and wet  lips brushing the inside of your thigh first, and you gasped at the contact. Just a kiss. Just barely there. But it lit up your nerves like a fuse.

The warmth of his breath followed, and your skin prickled with goosebumps. His mouth moved again, pressing another kiss, this time closer. He wasn’t rushing. He was listening. To your voice. To your breathing. To the way your thighs tensed when he got nearer to where you really wanted him.

You threaded your fingers tighter into his hair, guiding him, not forcing, just showing him you were there.

He looked up once, like he wanted to be sure, and when you gave the smallest nod, he lowered his head again, mouth finally dragging over your pussy, hot and open.

It was slow.

So slow it burned.

The first lick was cautious, just a flick of his tongue, but you moaned softly anyway, hips twitching up toward him. You could feel how his breath hitched in response, how the small sound you made seemed to fuel him. 

His lips parted again, tongue sliding a little firmer now between your soaked folds, tasting like he’d never tasted anything before. Like he was memorizing every part of you. The way your thighs shook. The way your breath caught. The way your fingers gripped tighter at his scalp when he hit the right spot, tongue licking wet and hot and perfect over your swollen clit. 

“Good,” you whispered. “That’s good… just like that.”

He let out a low sound against you, something desperate, something needy. His hands slid up to your hips like he couldn’t help himself anymore, holding you in place, mouth pressing deeper. The flat of his tongue moved in slow, indulgent strokes, and your stomach clenched, your toes curling against the sheets beneath you.

You exhaled shakily, fingers still buried in his hair, the sight of him between your legs already enough to keep your head spinning. He was trying, so hard, too. Tongue warm, mouth open, but a little unsure still, like he wasn’t convinced he was doing it right even though your thighs kept clenching around his ears.

“Riki,” you murmured, voice a little breathless, “slower—press your tongue flat. Yeah, like that.”

You felt him pause, adjust, and then try again, this time dragging the full weight of his tongue through your folds, slower, deeper, like he was tasting you properly now. Your hips lifted off the bed without meaning to.

“Mhm, fuck—just like that,” you whispered, your voice catching as a sharp pleasure lanced through your core.

You kept your eyes on him, watching the way he reacted to every sound you made. Like he was feeding off them. His lashes fluttered, lips shiny and swollen now, and when he glanced up at you, it was like he needed more. Needed to hear it from you.

“Circle your tongue around,” you whispered, tugging gently at his hair to keep him exactly where you wanted him. “There… slower. Keep it soft. I want to feel everything. Spit on it baby, get me soaked.”

His groan vibrated against you as he obeyed, the wet glide of his tongue sending another wave through your stomach, and then a thick string of saliva fell on your already soaked pussy. His hands clutched your thighs tighter now, nails pressing into your skin just enough to ground himself, like he was getting lost in it. In you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, letting the praise drip from your lips. You saw the way his eyes rolled back slightly when you said it. How his movements got a little more confident, a little messier, but somehow still just right. “Taste me—really taste me. Don’t just lick, use your mouth.”

He obeyed with a quiet desperation, sucking gently on your clit, tongue slipping lower before dragging back up again, slow and thick, like he wanted to devour every inch of you.

You gasped. Moaned. Tugged harder at his hair.

“Fuck, Riki—don’t stop—”

He didn’t. If anything, he got hungrier, greedier. His tongue started moving with more pressure, his lips sucking softly at the spots that made your thighs shake.

You didn’t even have to look down to know he was gone.

You could feel it, in the way his mouth moved, in the way his grip had turned bruising on your thighs, in the low, desperate sounds he kept making every time his tongue dragged through you like he couldn’t help himself.

But when you did look down, your heart almost stopped beating.

Riki’s eyes were barely open, glossy and wild, lips swollen, wet from you. His face was flushed, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and he was panting between licks like he physically couldn’t get enough.

And he kept talking.

Mumbling between mouthfuls, between kisses to your soaked skin, between long, obscene licks like he was drunk on the taste of you.

“Fuck—you taste so good…” he breathed, voice hoarse and wrecked. “S’fucking good… I can’t—god, I can’t stop.”

You moaned softly, hips rolling toward his mouth, and he whined into you. Actually whined.

“It’s the best,” he said again, more to himself this time, like he couldn’t believe it. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had. I swear—fuck, I need—need to keep tasting you.”

His tongue flattened again, dragging up, slower this time, like he wanted to savor it. He licked you like it was holy.

You gasped, gripping his hair, pulling him tighter to you.

And he loved it.

Didn’t even flinch. He moaned loud into your cunt, licking deeper, rougher, sloppy now, his mouth messy and wet and insistent. Every word he slurred out came like a prayer, like he was in some trance.

“I wanna eat you every day,” he groaned. “Fuck, please let me—I’ll be so good for you, I’ll learn everything—just don’t make me stop—”

Your head fell back against the pillows, legs shaking. He wasn’t even listening anymore, just moving off instinct, tongue flicking exactly how you taught him, sucking just enough to make your stomach twist with heat.

“You like it that much?” you teased, your voice barely holding steady, but it was still firm. Still in control.

His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but burning.

“I love it,” he said immediately.

Your legs trembled around his shoulders, and still—still—he didn’t stop. His tongue was relentless now, messy and hot and wet against you, every slow stroke making your stomach twist tighter, your breath hitch faster. But you wanted more. You could feel your body hovering right on the edge, just one touch away from snapping completely.

You slid one hand down, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, guiding him just enough so you could breathe. 

“Riki,” you panted. He blinked up at you, dazed and glassy-eyed, his mouth still open, his chin glistening. “Use your fingers too.”

He nodded without hesitation, licking his lips like he didn’t want to waste a drop.

“I—I don’t wanna mess it up,” he said, breathless, hand twitching at your thigh. “Just tell me what to do.”

You grabbed his wrist gently, brought it between your thighs, your own fingers wrapping around his to help him feel you.

“Start with one,” you whispered. “Slow. Let me open up to you.”

He swallowed hard and did exactly that—one long finger slipping into your heat, careful, reverent. The moment he did, a soft sound escaped your lips, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, almost choking on the words. “You’re so warm. So—fuck—tight. Is that okay? Is that good?”

“So good,” you gasped, voice trembling. “Now curl it—just a little. Mhm… yeah, right there.”

He groaned at the way you clenched, and then his mouth was on you again—tongue working in tandem with his finger now, stroking inside while he sucked and licked and moaned like he was starving.

You let out a high, breathy moan, your hand still guiding his wrist, helping him learn the rhythm. Your hips rocked up to meet both touches, tongue and finger now perfectly synced, and he responded instantly, desperate to give you exactly what you needed.

“Add another,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “You can take it.”

He hesitated only a second before easing a second finger in, slowly, and when he felt your body stretch around him, another broken groan left his throat.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice wrecked. “You feel so perfect—I wanna stay here forever.”

Your back arched, thighs trembling around his head, and he fucked you with his fingers just like you taught him, curling them right, keeping his mouth exactly where you needed it, letting you grind against his tongue shamelessly.

“That’s it, baby,” you moaned. “Just like that. Keep going—you’re gonna make me come.”

And the second those words left your lips, Riki lost it again, messy, moaning into you, thrusting his fingers harder, tongue flicking faster. You felt your climax building like a wave you couldn’t stop.

His lips were slick and red, cheeks flushed, hair clinging to his forehead. But it was the way he was moving that really undid you, hips rocking slowly against the mattress beneath him, grinding like he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Like he physically couldn’t stop.

He was moaning into you, low, broken, filthy sounds muffled by your thighs, and every time you tugged his hair or praised him, his hips pushed down harder, desperate for friction.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your whole body twitching under him. “You’re so needy, baby. Can’t even control yourself, can you?”

He moaned again, loud and desperate, and nodded just barely, face still buried in you.

“I—can’t,” he slurred between licks. “You taste too good—I need it—need to make you come—please, I can’t stop—”

The grind of his hips sped up, his fingers curling perfectly inside you while his tongue flicked your clit again and again, completely in rhythm, completely feral. His thighs were trembling from the way he was using the friction beneath him, like he was getting off just from serving you. From the taste. From your voice.

From the fact that he was the one making you fall apart.

“That’s it,” you groaned, hips bucking up toward his mouth. “Keep grinding, baby. Fuck yourself while you eat me. God—look at you…”

But he wasn’t looking anymore.

His eyes were squeezed shut now, brows furrowed in focus, mouth and fingers soaking wet, hips stuttering with every moan. And from the way his body was shaking, you knew, he was so close. Without even being touched.

You were shaking, heart hammering, your breath catching in short, ragged gasps. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers sent sparks rushing down your spine, your thighs trembling around his head. Ni-ki didn’t slow down, if anything, he was more focused than ever, like every sound you made fueled him. Like he needed to pull you apart, needed to feel you break for him.

You could barely keep your eyes open, barely breathe with how good it felt, how intense it was. His hands gripped your thighs like lifelines, grounding himself there, mouth working like he was starved and you were the only thing he’d ever wanted to taste.

Your hips jerked. You were so close it hurt.

“Riki,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “I’m gonna—”

“Come, please, need to feel you come on my mouth baby” He whispered, breathless, sucking your clit so hard that you cried out.

That did something to him. He moaned again, deep and wrecked, and it vibrated against you, just enough to push you over.

Your back arched off the mattress, your fingers tightening in his hair as the world blurred and broke around you. The orgasm tore through you in waves, sharp, warm, overwhelming. You cried out his name, legs closing around him, but he didn’t move, didn’t stop. He held you through it, mouth still soft, slow, working you gently as you came down. 

 When your muscles finally stopped trembling and your breathing slowed, he looked up at you.His lips were swollen, eyes glassy, flushed and ruined, and he was still panting because he came too, hard and soaked and messy against his jeans from just eating you.

You reached down and stroked your thumb over his cheek.

“You did so good,” you whispered, still breathless. “So, so good.”

And the look in his eyes when you said it? Like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to hear.

You were sure you created some kind of monster. 

It was like something had snapped open between you and Riki that night, something hungry and undeniable. He hadn’t touched you in front of anyone since, but you could feel it: the way his gaze followed you when you walked past in your bikini, the way he’d bite his lip when he thought no one was looking.

But it was worse when you were alone.

Because now, it wasn’t just once. Now he wanted you constantly.

You hadn’t even made it out of the hotel earlier that morning without him pulling you back into the bathroom, dropping to his knees like it was the only place he belonged. He’d barely said a word, just looked up at you with those dark, desperate eyes and mumbled something about “missing the taste of you.”

It had been messy. Rushed. You had to muffle your moans into your hand and clamp your thighs tight around his head just to keep quiet.

Now, three days later in the afternoon, you were sitting under a beach umbrella with a drink in your hand, pretending like you weren’t still flushed from the memory. Pretending like your legs weren’t shaking.

Ni-ki was stretched out on a towel a few feet away, sunglasses on, the sea breeze lifting his hair. He looked calm to anyone else—maybe a little too calm—but you saw the truth. The tension in his jaw. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth when he caught your eye.

And then he mouthed something at you across the space between your friends.

Please.

You blinked. 

What?

He glanced toward the beach showers. Then back at you. And mouthed it again:

Please. Just five minutes.

Your heart stuttered.

You shook your head. Barely. But your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat blooming low in your belly. He tilted his head, still pleading, like he was barely holding it together.

He wanted it again.

He wanted you again.

And it hit you then, this wasn’t just about curiosity anymore. This wasn’t a one-time thing.

Ni-ki was hooked.

The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting everything in a hazy gold, and the breeze off the ocean carried laughter and music from your friends further down the beach. You were pretending to still be sipping your drink when Ni-ki brushed past you, close enough that your knees touched for a second.

No one noticed. Or so you hoped.

He didn’t say anything, just walked towards the showers without looking back.

But you followed.

Your heart pounded as you crossed the sand, the faint sound of water trickling from a half-open faucet masking your footsteps. The beach shower area was quiet, stone walls, open-air, private enough if you were quick.

You slipped inside, and there he was.

His back was against the tiled wall, hair tousled, lips parted, like he’d barely been breathing since he left you on that beach chair.

“I thought you said five minutes,” you whispered, stepping in closer.

He shook his head, chest rising and falling beneath his shirt. 

“That was a lie.”

You raised a brow, teasing.

“So you dragged me out here to lie to me?”

“No,” he said, voice low, hoarse. “I dragged you out here because I need you.”

And that was all it took.

You kissed him first, quick and hot, stealing his breath. But he dropped to his knees before you could blink, already pushing your swimsuit bottoms down your legs with shaking hands, reverent and hungry.

“Wait,” you breathed, glancing toward the open side of the shower. “Someone could—”

“I don’t care.” His voice was wrecked, hands firm as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ll be fast. I promise. I just—fuck, I missed you.”

And then his mouth was on you.

The rush of it stole your breath. The contrast of the cool tile behind you and the burning warmth of his tongue had you clutching the stone wall for balance. He moaned into you, shameless, like the taste of you alone was enough to undo him. You bit your lip, trying not to make a sound, failing as a gasp slipped out when he flattened his tongue and really got into it.

“God, you’re so good,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “So greedy—”

He groaned, grinding against nothing, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you impossibly closer. His mouth was wet, messy, insistent, and every time you tried to look down at him, you saw how gone he was, red cheeks, glassy eyes, flushed and panting like he needed this more than air.

“Riki,” you warned, breath hitching as the pressure built again, sharp and fast. “We don’t have long—”

“I don’t care,” he mumbled against your skin. “Let them see. I’d still stay right here.”

That nearly ended you.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps pass nearby over the sound of the waves and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You just held his face, riding the edge, knowing it wouldn’t take long.

By the time you stepped out of the beach showers, your legs were still trembling.

You’d tried to fix your hair in the tiny mirror, smooth out your expression, but your mouth was swollen and your swimsuit still clung awkwardly to your damp skin. Riki walked a few steps behind you, his shirt thrown over one shoulder, cheeks still flushed, his lips a little too red.

And worst of all, he was smiling.

You elbowed him as you walked, muttering under your breath, 

“You’re being obvious.”

“I am obvious,” he said softly, brushing your fingers with his as you passed a stray towel on the sand. “And you liked it.”

You glared at him—only half-serious—and picked up the pace, ignoring the way your thighs still ached.

When you reached your friends, Jake was the first to spot you.

“Well, well, well,” he grinned, raising his sunglasses. “Look who finally decided to rejoin society.”

“We weren’t gone that long,” you said quickly, dropping your towel back down like nothing happened.

Jake squinted. “You guys missed the watermelon. And Sunoo was telling this insane story about—wait.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you look like that?”

Your stomach flipped. Riki coughed behind you.

Sunghoon glanced up from where he was drying his hair. 

“Yeah. You guys look kinda… flushed.”

“Hot out,” Riki mumbled.

“Hm,” Jake said slowly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

You sat down quickly on your beach chair and took a sip of your drink, trying to will your heart rate back to normal. But Riki flopped down next to you, casually propping his sunglasses on top of his head, lips still a little too pink.

You glanced at him. 

“You’re enjoying this.”

He smirked. 

“A little.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t.” He leaned closer, voice dropping so only you could hear. “Unless you want me to tell them how good you taste when you—”

“Riki.”

He grinned wider and leaned back like nothing happened.

You tried to look normal. Innocent. Unbothered.

But the looks your friends kept throwing your way said one thing clearly:

They knew something was up.

And if they didn’t know now, they would soon, because Riki’s knee was already brushing yours under the towel, and the second you leaned towards him, he gave you that look again.

Hungry.

Summer trip this year had just started. 

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton Chapter 7, Part 2

masterpost I am not a doctor lol

“And look up,” the doctor instructed before pulling away the pen light.

Danny blinked back the after images that it left. The eye exam certainly didn’t help, but the overwhelming feeling of seeing was better. Everything was still on the blurry side—too soft, too bright, too white—but it didn’t make Danny want to hide from the world anymore.

“Well, the good news is, your eyes are dilating and have no issue with movement. They’re just far too dilated. We’ll need to get you to an ophthalmologist to be sure, but I suspect that your vision will return to normal as the side effects of the event fade.”

“‘kay,” Danny rasped. He took a grateful sip from the cup Wally passed him before he tried to continue, “Same on the hearing, or…?”

Danny didn’t much like the way the doctor frowned.

“It could be,” the doctor said. It was clear the effort she was putting in to speak loudly and articulately enough, “but hearing doesn’t bounce back the way eyes can. I think it would be good to at least be braced for bad news. The good news, even if it’s bad news, is that you seem to still have some hearing in both ears, so you should be a good candidate for hearing aids.”

Danny rubbed at his face with a shaky hand. “Right. Thank you. What do we think about the hand tremors?”

“Another wait and see. But we’ll start you on some physical and occupational therapy. You and the Flash can be be PT buddies,” the doctor said with a little smile. She really was doing her best. “I also want everyone to watch for signs of seizures, especially more minor ones. Like a lot of the cases here, you’re a one off, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t do everything that we can to take care of you.”

“Thanks, really,” Danny said. “I think I’m just here for right now, so whatever works for those appointments? You can let Nightwing know when they are if I’ve crashed again or not remembering or something.”

“The memory issues should go away as you stay awake and get oriented, but I’ll make sure that Nightwing knows of all appointments also. I know it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re healing.” The doctor stood and rolled her gloves off. “Make sure to eat and hydrate while you’re awake, but rest when you need and keep the oxygen in when you’re resting. Flash—stay put and keep that IV in.”

“Yes ma’am!” Wally chirped as Dick showed her out.

Wally hooked his chin over Danny’s shoulder and pulled him back against his chest. Danny let himself slump back into the hold with a sigh. He found the straw to sip at just so that he didn’t have to say anything right away.

“Alright!” Dick said with a clap of his hands. “Food! As long as Wally drinks his smoothies and stays on that IV, we’re not on a restrictive diet, so Danny, what are you thinking?”

“Trash,” Danny decided. “Nuggets and fries and like a shake or something. Just salty trash.”

“Deal! Shake flavor and dipping sauce?”

“Strawberry I guess and like, honey mustard? Honey something. Surprise me.”

“Can do,” Dick said complete with a little salute. “I’m going to to let the others know you’re awake awake and get their food order too, okay? But I’ll keep the horde away for now.”

“Thanks,” Danny said with a grateful smile. He liked the all the Titans, but he really just couldn’t right then, not with his senses all off. Two was just enough. After Dick left, Danny leaned a little more firmly against Wally. “Nice to be able to finally touch you.”

Wally said something then cleared his throat and said more clearly, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though… just… some of those things might be permanent,” Wally said, voice almost dipping too long a few times.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “I really hope the vision isn’t. I’d like the tremors not to be too, you know? And the seizures would suck if they’re as bad, but I bet there’d be medication for that at least.”

When Wally sighed, it was with his whole body. “You’re so calm about it. I—Danny, you got hurt bringing me back, maybe for good. That… doesn’t that make you mad?”

Danny played with Wally’s fingers as he thought about how to answer that. “You’ve had to have been hurt as Flash.”

“I heal fast,” Wally pouted.

“Okay, lucky guy,” Danny said with a little snort. “But you have or Dick has. You know it’s part of being a hero.”

“You’re a civi right now. You’re a civi and I’m not. I know that even heroes can need rescuing, but you shouldn’t have been hurt because I fucked up!”

Ah, that was it.

Danny brought up Wally’s fingers and kissed them lightly. “Everyone fucks up. And part of me will always be that stupid teen who was a hero. I’ll deal with what this got me just like I deal with the aches and pains I already have. I don’t blame you.”

“You should.”

“I don’t,” Danny insisted. “And you have to respect me enough to know that I went into this willingly and with open eyes. If you can’t do that, then our date when we’re free from here needs to be a friendly dinner instead. I’m not going to be with someone who doesn’t respect my right to decide.”

Wally left out a huff of air like he was deflating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean too… just… hero guilt.”

“I get it, really I do,” Danny said. “But shove it aside, okay? Because both of us are here and alive and I think that’s a damn good outcome when dealing with unknowable forces of the space time continuum.”

“Nerd,” Wally teased.

“Oh like you aren’t.”

“No, I totally am,” Wally said, “but now I have someone to curl up and watch Star Trek with. I love Dick, but he’s an absolute pop culture heathen. He swings between cartoons and reality tv.”

Danny held back a laugh and nodded wisely instead. “Well, we’ll put on ‘The Voyage Home’, and he can fall asleep to the dulcet whale songs.”

“Perfect, as soon as you can hear better,” Wally promised with a soft kiss to Danny’s temple.

[whatsverstappeningnow]

better together

lando norris x oscar piastri x reader

You wanted them both. At once. You weren’t sure they’d say yes. Turns out, they’ve been waiting for you to ask.

-> cw: smut, DP, slightly subby Oscar, no reference to birth control but its there (wrap before you tap people), 18+ content (you are incharge of your own content consumption, not me)

“Feels so good, love,” Oscar whispers into the crook of your neck, voice hoarse and whinny against your skin. “So good.”

“You hear that, baby? You’re taking him so well he can barely speak,” Lando says from behind you, a lilt of mocking in his voice overshadowed by the soft touch of his hands over your bare waist.

You’re held up between the two of them, Lando behind and Oscar in front holding you up with a strong grip on your thighs—already settled deep inside you. Your arms are wrapped around Oscar‘s neck, head leaning back against Lando’s shoulder. All clothes have been discarded long ago.

The older boy laughs lightly at the glazed-over look in your eyes, mind dazed already simply from having Oscar deep inside you and both of them so close.

“You want to tell him how good he feels too?” Lando whispers to you before he dips down to press soft kisses to your neck. 

“’S Good. So deep, Osc,” is all you can manage to get out. Though Oscar can only moan in response, so you suppose you win. 

“You still wanna try, baby? Think you can take us both?” Lando asks, thumbs rubbing calming circles on your hips. "You want us to make you feel good together?”

You’ve already talked about it at length. The awkwardness you felt when summoning the courage to ask them to try taking both of them at once was quickly forgotten when you saw the dark look in their eyes at the request.

Oscar, terrified of hurting you, had been slightly hesitant. But he was reassured by the both of you: you’d go slow, you could always stop. There was no pressure.

A hand on the inside of his thigh and a soft don’t you want me? from you was enough to convince him completely. 

They wanted it. You wanted it. 

“Yes,” you mumbled softly, melting into their brace and feeling soft kisses against your neck and collarbone from the both of them.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Lando said again, pretending not to hear.

“Please. Yes, please.” 

It's Oscar who breaks first, one of his hands slipping from your thigh to grab Lando’s bicep, “Please Lan, no more teasing. Need you both.”

Somehow, impossible, the two press closer into you, the pressure between you three keeping you up in the air while Lando lines up at your entrance. You tense slightly, feeling him, a sudden unexpected pit of nerves settling in your stomach.

Lando is quick to calm you. “Breathe, love. You’ve got us. We’re right here.”

“Tell us if it’s too much. We’ll stop. Just say the word. Yeah?” Oscar adds, his voice soft and careful, but his touch hot against your skin. You can barely feel where you end and he begins. Your three bodies feel so connected and in tune, thatit’s hard to disguise one from the other. 

Then slowly, so, so slowly, Lando pushes in. Your whole world turns erupts in pleasure. Their words swirl around you, lost to the feeling of complete fullness. Complete pleasure.

“You’re being so good for us, love.”

“Look at you. So fucking pretty like this, stuffed full and still asking for more.”

“That’s it, let us hear you. Wanna hear how we make you feel. Every little sound you make…”

“You’re shaking, love. Is it too much? Or just that good?” Lando says it right into your ear, unmistakable as he finally fully settles inside of you. 

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I need you. Both of you.”

“You have us,” Oscar replies, kissing your shoulder once and shifting slightly inside you, causing you to moan low and long.

You stay like that for a while, holding each other, breathing deeply, whispering sweet things. Until eventually…

“Move,” you beg. And they do. 

It's all too much, and just right all at once. Quickly, they settle into a pace, a rhythm. The smell of sweat and love fills the air, hanging over the room. Hands roam and hold you tightly, gripping your waist, your thighs, your ass, your hands, pushing back your hair and caressing your jawline. 

Each time you think it's too much, their sweet words pull you back to yourself. Each touch feels perfect.

"Harder," you beg, lost to the feeling of them both spliting you open. It's better than you could have ever imagined.

Their speed picks up, ramming into you in unison and causing your breath to get stuck in your throat. You swear you can see stars. You're body twitches and squirms with each thrust, sentive to every little sensation.

“You're clenching so hard," Oscar groans out, his rhythm stuttering slightly, "I'm not, god, I'm not gonna last."

"Fuck, same," Lando admits, some of his earlier cockiness slipping away from him as you whine again at the feeling of both of their cocks bottoming out inside you at once.

"I can take it. Want to. Want both of you." You reassure them with breathy words, grabbing onto any part of them you can until.

"Fuck."

Their climax hits so suddenly that their groans are the only thing you can hear. The whole world seems to come to a stop as they hold you tightly, breathing deeply through their high. Time feels stuck in this moment. It's perfect.

"You still with us, love?" Lando asks, voice hoarse and tired. All you can do is hum lightly and lean into Oscar's touch as he cradles your cheek with his hand.

"Gonna pull out? Ok?" And once you nod slightly, you feel the emptiness fill you up soon after. You groan at the sudden loss.

Soon, you're moving. Strong arms cradle and place you softly down on the bed. One of them, Lando, you think, settles behind you, resting up against the headboard. He pulls you back till your back hits his chest. Hands glide across your body, tracking down your neck and chest and landing on the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart slightly. 

"You haven't come yet darling, can we help with that?" he whispers to you as Oscar settles in front of you, eyes shining and lips glossy with spit. You can only nod. 

After a sweet kiss to your lips, gentle and kind, Oscar goes down. 

You're still so sensitive from having both of them inside of you, it barely takes any time for your climax to hit. Your legs shake with pleasure, your muscles tighten and then suddenly, all at once, relax completely. You let out a breath of peace. 

Oscar collapses on top of you, his head on your chest and his hand interlocking with yours. The pressure feels like safety. You all lie there for a moment, breathing and tracing each other's skin with gentle hands. Soft kisses are pressed to your temple, and you can't help but smile at the feeling.

"I think I could stay right here forever," Oscar whispers, lips ticklish against your neck. 

“You okay? You with us?” Lando asks again, a hand running through Oscar's hair and then intertwining with your free hand.

“I don’t think I can walk," you joke, voice coming back to you as you feel the tiredness settle in you."

Oscar answers before Lando can. "We’ll carry you. Wherever you need.”

You laugh lightly at the words. You should have a bath, clean up, but you can't find it in you to care. Your limbs are too tired and your mind is completely at ease.

You let your eyes slip closed, your hand still wrapped in Oscar’s, your back pressed to Lando’s chest. They’re so close, so constant. It feels like they’re holding you together even as you start to drift off.

Sleep takes you slowly. It comes easily, wrapped in warmth, steady breaths, and the quiet thrum of being wanted completely, without question, without end. 

please be kind, this is my first ever attempt at smut! - ree

[pome-seed]

Just Rest ★ Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky X Engineer!Reader

Summary: The Soldat's metal arm is damaged during sparring.

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Mention of knives and violence.

Authors Note: Based off The Soldier's Keeper, but an engineer/mechanic instead of a doctor. Idk, just trying to get out of my writing rut.

Masterlist Soldier's Keeper Masterlist.

The door slams shut behind you, the sound of metal echoing through the chamber. You stumble forward, your dazed gaze stuck on the writhing bodies in the center of the room.

“Idiot jammed his knife into the dog's gears, go check on him.” A soldier says from behind you. 

You nod instinct, but when your eyes find his, your stomach drops.

The Soldat stands in the center of the room, his breathing ragged as he clutches his metal arm. His jaw is locked shut in that familiar black mask, the neck of it buckled into the rest of his uniform. 

Cold blue eyes find yours before he lowers his head in shame. 

Your teeth ache as you clench, swallowing your own dread. You approach the man carefully, your bag of supplies hanging heavy at your side. You step over defeated soldiers, dodging their grumpy limbs. 

“Hey, can I see that arm?” You mutter, looking up at the sweaty man. 

He huffs quietly against his muzzle, struggling to catch his breath. Contrary to popular belief among his keepers, the Soldat does get tired. He feels pain, he feels exhaustion, and he slows down. 

But they still use him as their training dummy. They still think of him as the iron soldier who never waivers, perfect for beating their rookies into shape. 

But he gets tired.

And he feels pain.

The Soldat lowers his gloved hand, exposing the knife jammed between the plates in his shoulder, the blade pointed towards his collarbone. 

You grimace. “Any pain?”

He tilts his head at you, his brows twitching together. 

You shake your head. “Sorry- I mean in your shoulder-” you gather his whole body must ache from the constant beating he’s been receiving. “I need to know if the blade got down to the bone.”

He shakes his head slowly, subconsciously leaning forward, his body sagging with exhaustion. 

“Okay, that’s good.” You whisper, offering him a sad smile. “I’m gonna take that out now, sound good?” He nods, his gaze slowly drifting to your hands. You grab hold of the handle and carefully pry it from between the mechanics. 

The man makes a quiet sound in his throat, but he stays still for you. 

You dig through your satchel and pull out your tools. “I still don’t get why they make you do this with real knives…” You mutter, peeling off the scraped panel to see the mechanics beneath. “Seems like pointless blood spilt…”

The large man just tilts his head at you, watching you- not your hands. He didn’t often get the chance to speak with you. You were rarely left alone. But he aways listened. 

Because you were the only person who spoke to him like he was still human. 

You pick through faded wires and loose bolts, but find no notable damage- or so you think. 

You use a thin metal tool to lift another interior panel- the Soldat flinches hard. You freeze. “Did that hurt?” You frown.

He nods mechanically. “Mm…”

“Okay, just bear with me then,” you mutter, shifting the panel carefully. You shine your light between the metal and see faint red staining the cool steel. “Looks like he did knick something…” You sigh and turn back to the man guarding the door. “I need to take him to the lab, looks like there's some damage.”

The soldier visibly groans, then mutters something into his radio. “Alright, go on.”

“Come on,” you turn to the Soldat. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

His lashes flutter in a slow blink. He nods slowly and steps into your space before you even start moving. You smile and slowly take his hand. His gloved fingers are still in yours as you lead him into the hall. 

The walk to the lab is a short one, but you’ve memorized it by now. 

You’ve been with Hydra for over a year, and no matter how much you may have hated it at first, you quickly accepted your circumstances. They needed you to do a job, so you did it. In return, you got to live. 

You spent most of your time in the lab, waiting, or working. The rest you spent in your small room.

“Sit on the table please.” You release the man's hand and tug off your satchel. He obeys without a thought, like always. When you finally sit down at his side, you take a quick look back at the doors. You’re alone. 

So you slowly cupped his metal jaw and tilt his head up. Blue eyes latch onto yours. You slide your hands back into his hair and unbuckle his muzzle. The clast comes loose after you struggle with it,  then you finally pull it free. 

“Since we’re alone,” you whisper, smiling up at him. 

The Soldat shifts his jaw carefully, working the locked up muscles. “Thank you.”

You pat his knee. “Now let’s get that arm fixed, huh?” You pull your tray of tools closer. 

While you work, the Soldat watches you, his body swaying every time he blinks too long. You wonder how long he’s been running drills today. How many other men he had to fight, for the sake of training. But you don’t ask, because you just want to let him rest. Besides, his time with you was usually the only relaxed moments he got. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You mutter, twisting wires back into shape. 

His head jolts up from where he’d been dozing off. “What?” His deep voice questions close to you.

“There isn’t much damage, I knew you’d be fine.” You glance up at him. “But I wanted to get you in here, so I lied.” 

His soft frown makes him look confused. “You did?” He glances at his shoulder. 

“Mhm,” you nod. “Just wanted to make sure they gave you a moment to rest.”

“Oh,” he huffs, his shoulders sagging as he sighs. 

“If I gave you the all good, they would have had you jump right back into sparring.” You mutter, sealing over chipped metal.

“Yeah…” he whispers. “Thank you…” He licks over his dry lips.

“Shush, just catch your breath.” You adjust your light to see deeper. 

He obeys, taking your words literally as he goes quiet. You smile to yourself and continue working. 

There isn’t much blood, thankfully. The tip of the knife must have just barely sunken into the muscle fused to metal. But it was enough that moving those internal plates stung. So you’re careful.

You’re always careful with the Soldat. 

And he knows it. So he lets his tired eyes fall shut. He lets his body sag a little further, until his head is dropping heavily onto your shoulder. 

You stiffen, but you don’t wake him. You just continue to work, until you're sealing the exterior plate back in place. And when you do, you stay put, allowing him to rest. 

You sit there, his metal hand resting in your lap. Your frown curls deeper as you feel his soft breath flutter against your exposed skin.

You wish there were more quiet moments like this. You wish he was allowed such a pleasure. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your fingers carefully raking through his long hair. “Just rest…”

A/N: Can you tell I kinda miss the Hydra era of the soldier's keeper...

Taglist:

@a-world-with-pure-imagination @frog-fans-unite @1967barracuda @akkklys @cherryheairt @lonelyghosts-stuff @mysoulbelongstobuckybarnes @devilslittlehelper @miss-chuchu @dollface-xoxo @natalia42069 @thuul-box @local-crazy @justachillgirllui @pleasecallmeunhinged @cookies-and-music @fallen-w1ngs @unicornqueen05 @bloodmocha @sleepysongbirdsings @fadingcollectivenightmare

[miiyas]

“i didn’t know you played guitar.”

satoru stops mid strum and looks up at the shoji doors, his wide eyes hiding behind the tint of his sunglasses. your angel sweet voice cuts him off from thought as he sees you and suguru, your hand placed on the small indent of the door and slide it open fully, walking in as suguru follows behind, ducking his head just an inch before standing just behind you.

the white haired boy parts his lips for a moment before closing it, the grip he had on the neck of the guitar tightening. he watches as you and geto take a seat on the edge of the bunkbed in front of him, the creek of the wood filling the silent atmosphere.

“i play,” he hums, tilting his head down to watch himself pluck a few strings with his thumb and index, covering the strings of the neck and making it play a dull sound. “occasionally. i mean, i am good at everything, so this is like nothing.” gojo huffs and whips his head up, nose pointing to the ceiling and a smug grin plastering on his face. he opens an eye to meet you staring at him patiently, leaning back and weighing yourself down against your arms, a lazy grin resting on your pretty lips.

you’re waiting, gojo thinks. you’re waiting for him to play and he can tell with the way your eyes widen and the way you bounce your leg slightly. and when he does entice you with his perfect strumming and dripping voice, maybe then you’d fall in love with him.

“can we hear you play ?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. suguru snickers beside you, hiding his smirk with a hand as he looks at his best friend with a knowing look. “c’mon, you really think he can play ?”

“of course i can !” gojo barks back, leaning forward as the sunglasses slipping down his nose as he jumps in retaliation. he shifts his gaze back to you as you thin your lips to hide any evidence of laughter emerging, yet, the way your shoulders shake and your chest heaves proves the opposite of hiding.

“i can play,” he corrects, crossing his legs and resting his back on the wall. he looks down at the strings in front of him, placing his long fingers on the select position and angle, pressing down enough for the fingertips to leave an indent. he strums with his free hand, plucking with his fingers and humming a melody he’s sure doesn’t even exist, one that’s soft and gentle enough to be a stand alone, no voice required.

as he adjusts his fingers to play different notes, he glances up from his glasses to take a look at you, to make sure you were paying attention, to make sure you were impressed. hopefully beyond impressed. he butches a note, losing focus before he blinks a few times and regains his rhythm. he’s tapping his feet in the air to an invisible beat and metronome, stretching his fingers to reach for a string.

it’s quiet while he plays, and none of you realize that shoko is leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a knowing grin being shared between her and suguru.

“i just remembered,” suguru chirps suddenly, cutting off the strumming as gojo pauses his hands. he chirped. like a child excited to answer a question their teacher had to offer. “shoko and i have to deliver some papers to yaga sensei.” the brown haired girl nods along with the quick excuse, watching the boy get up from his seat on the bed and rush out with a tight expression, sliding the door closed yet not fully, enough to leave a small gap. they both leave before neither you nor satoru had the chance to say anything back, leaving both of you slightly speechless.

suguru, shoko, you dicks !!

satoru internally screams and bangs his head on his guitar and the walls, his heart racing faster than how adrenaline took over when he was playing. they did this on purpose, he realized and he scolds himself for not knowing earlier. what is he going to do now ..?! sit alone in his bedroom with a goddess like you as he plays on his stupid little guitar ? god, you don’t even look half impressed right now !! unless you are, gojo breaks down, i mean, who could resist me, right ?

“uhm,” your voice breaks through gojo’s racing thoughts, his head shifting towards you from the door. “what songs do you like to play ?” you smile and satoru feels his shoulders relax, the breath he was holding in seemingly exhaling and he acted like he had just received extra blessings from the gods themselves. to hold the powers of the six eyes and limitless is impressive, but to have someone charmed and smitten out of their minds, now that’s a real weapon.

gojo watches you tilt your head and he swallows a lump down his throat, readjusting his hands to fit the notes of whatever song he had thought of. “well,” he glances down at his hands, then back up at you, flashing you with a charming smile. “whatd’ya wanna listen to ?”

bonus:

“they’ve been at it for two hours,” shoko whispers her grimaces, peeking through the crack of the door they had left before as suguru watches from a top of her, their heads stacked as they stalk the white haired individual play whatever you had requested. “you think they know by now ?”

suguru winces at shokos suggestion, like he doesn’t believe that either of you know that you like each other. “those idiots ? nah, i doubt it.”

“yeah, you’re right.” she snickers quietly, peering through more before she accidentally makes eye contact with bright blue eyes. “shit.” ieiri backs away and widens her eyes, stopping mid tracks as if caught red handed.

“i can see you guys !! quit stalking us !”

[hinatsu]

gimmie a drabble on sub!virgin!armin having sex for the first time with gf!reader 😛😛

an. ᡴꪫ ask and u shall receive :3 i got a little carried away oopsie (req me here)

your lips trail over the freckles scattered along his collarbone, warm and lazy, like you’ve got all the time in the world. your hand holds him gently by the neck, thumb brushing just under his jaw as you guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, thick virgin cock splitting you open, and he’s already breathless before you even fully bottom out.

and when you finally take him all the way in—when he’s buried to the hilt, hot and twitching inside you, his back arches off the bed, mouth falling open with a loud helpless moan, head rolling back against the pillow.

“ohmygod, f-fuck… i—” he gasps, voice cracking, hands flying to your waist like he needs to hold onto something real. like he needs you. he’s trembling under you, chest rising and falling fast, eyes blown so wide they barely look blue anymore. he forces himself to look at you, even if it’s overwhelming, he needs to watch the way you take him like you were made for it.

“you feel so good,” he whines, hips stuttering up into yours, messy and eager and completely wrecked. “'s too good—can’t fuckin' think—baby,—”

his hands are everywhere now, gripping, sliding, searching. one on your thigh, one splayed over your lower back, trying to keep you close, trying to memorize the shape of you. his head tips forward, forehead resting against your shoulder as he chokes out another sound, high and broken.

“please,” he breathes, so soft you almost miss it. “please don’t stop. need it, need you to fuck me, oh god,”

you shush him gently, nails dragging lightly down his spine, and he whimpers into your skin like he might fall apart just from that.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you murmur, guiding his hips with yours “so perfect for me.”

his eyes fucking cross, he's moaning so shamelessly, he's pink all over, he can't control it.

“i love you, love you so much, i’m close—” the words fall out in a frantic gasp as he suddenly pulls you down to him, flipping you onto your back so fast it knocks the air out of your lungs. you barely register the sheets beneath you before he’s on top, rutting into you with messy, desperate thrusts.

he doesn’t know how to use his dick yet—doesn’t need to. it’s raw fucking instinct now, driven by how warm you feel, how tight you are, how pretty your face looks beneath him.

“‘m sorry,” he whimpers, voice shaking as he leans in close, breath hot against your cheek. “don’t know how t’ make it last—f-feels too good, can’t stop—”

and neither can you.

your back arches, fingers digging into his shoulders as the angle shifts, the head of his cock catching just right—deep and eager and so sloppy but perfect. you’re right there with him, pleasure curling up your spine, your thighs trembling.

“armin,” you gasp, jaw going slack as you clutch him tighter, “fuck—‘m gonna cum!”"

“look at me,” he begs, cupping your cheek like he needs to see you fall apart with him. “please, wanna see you,wanna cum with you, please—”

your eyes lock with his, pussy clenching around him as you cum, hips bucking up into his in shaky, stuttering pulses.

he falls apart the second he feels you tighten, crying out your name like it’s a prayer, like it’s the only word he’s ever known. his cock throbs inside you as he cums, thick globs of seed stuffing you impossibly full.

“oh—oh my go—” he whines, voice cracking, “thank you, thank you!"

he’s still trembling when he slumps forward, face buried into the crook of your neck.

you blink once. then twice. still dazed. "babe... are you sure you were a virgin?"

[jesuistrestriste]

dom!art still taking the strap like a p★rnstar.

cw (18+) : teasing dom!art, eager-to-please sub!reader, brief fingering, choking, pegging, spitting in mouth, handjob, general filth

art pushes his face into the mattress as your soft, willing tongue laps slickly over his hole from behind, his left hand reaching back to grab your shoulder and squeeze it with everything he’s got. he rocks his hips against your mouth and keens when he feels you whimper into his flesh.

“f-fuuuck,” he shudders, “you’re so greedy for me, aren’t you? do i taste good?”

all you can do is nod, too immersed in his taste and his smell and his dirty language. he laughs lowly in response and then hisses like he’s in pain—even if he’s feeling quite the opposite—when you begin to ease two fingers into his tight entrance without permission. you usually have to ask in order to touch any part of him, as he likes the sense of control and you like knowing that your movements are dependent on his say-so, but it just feels like the right moment to open him up. (he’d been prepped perfectly already with just your licking, his cock hard and hanging heavily between his thighs.) he bites at the sheets, the feeling of you beginning to curl the pads of your phalanges down into his prostate punching a broken whine from his lungs. warm spit clings to his bottom lip and chin as he releases the fabric from his teeth to sit up a bit and look over his shoulder. he looks annoyed.

aroused beyond belief, but annoyed.

“that’s enough—no more, or i wont last long enough to take you. come lie down,” he pats the pillows near the top of the bed, “and tighten the harness, it’s slipping.”

you scramble to your feet, easing your touch from his core, and wipe your face with the back of your other hand before you pull at the polyester straps of the strap-on enough to keep it secure. art sprawls himself out on the bedding for just a moment; he lets you stare at his toned, flushed, willing body while you move to lay your frame down. he crawls on top and straddles you afterwards. maneuvers to smush his shaft against the faux rubbery one underneath him. he moans when he frots with it—grinding his leaking tip against yours with even, teasing thrusts. he does it until he starts to shake, his limbs locking up with an impending climax, only to pull back and begin to sit over the dildo without needing your despairing whine as a prompt. your brow pinches reflexively as you watch him devour the inches, one after the other.. he’s a pro by now, but it never ceases to amaze you. he bucks against the fullness. you wonder if it’ll bulge his tummy this time like his dick bulges yours when he’s inside. the way he starts to bounce on it interrupts your flow of thought. he’s slow at first, then ravenous with it. you’re sure that every motion is hitting that special spot in his walls.

“you look like a mess.. and i’m the one getting fucked,” he snickers between whorish groans and whimpers, his hands finding your throat and gently squeezing the sides under his palms, “you like when i ride you? yeah? just like this? fuck, shit—open your mouth—“

you do as you’re told.

is there any other way to respond to him when he gets like this?

you do what he wants you to do, or you don’t get the satisfaction of pounding him until he’s gone mushy in the head. it’s a transactional process that you’re more than willing to work through.

as soon as your jaw is slacked, your eyes fluttering, he leans in and purses his pout. a glob of his saliva is slowly spat over your tongue like sugary honey. you can hardly take it. your hands fist the sheets and you writhe beneath his weight at the viscous fluid dulling your senses. the flavor is so him, slightly minty from the gum he always chews. he taps the underside of your chin when he’s finished letting it drip. he licks his bottom lip to be rid of the remnants.

“swallow.”

and you do—you want nothing more. he sits upright again and splits himself open harder on the toy bound to your pelvis. each time he slides down it, you get to watch as his abdomen curls and his blonde locks are strewn about his forehead. he tightens his hold on your neck just enough to remind you who’s really in charge, and his length jumps in response to the resulting look that crosses your face. you mewl when it dribbles glassy precome like a river; it glosses over the throbbing vein running down the underside of it. a sound that’s a mix between a shout and a sob then escapes his chest.

“god, i’m close,” his hips stutter in their efforts, his blue eyes shielded by low lids, “c’mere—“

he takes one of his hands from your body and reaches it down to take one of yours that’s still grasping at the sheets. he guides your limp fist to wrap around the base of his cock, keening as he starts to hump it.

“touch me—jerk me off.. fuck.. that’s it—that’s good—don’t stop.. beg me to come for you..”

the heat in your gut swells and contracts in time with his noises and his movements, your hand pumping him quickly to aid his consumption of the pleasure he’s being abundantly given. your thumb swipes over his tip, you can tell it aches. he jolts forward at his sensitivity, dazedly moving both of his hands to your chest for leverage, and you dig your heels into the mattress to help you rut up forcefully into his ass. he almost screams.

you beg. you slur out a multitude of pathetic, indulgent sentences that spur on the wave of ecstasy about to crash into his figure. ‘please, come on my strap’ and ‘i’m begging you to let it all go for me, let me watch you lose it’.

it does the trick. in fact, it does it perfectly. everything snaps.

he topples forward with a sudden wail; brows furrowing and thighs quaking and back arching in an unbelievably filthy manner. his legs begin to close as the pleasure floods in and squirts from his erection in several bursts—the ropes coat your fingers and dribble over his stomach like fresh milk. still riding the toy, he digs his calloused touch into the sides of your torso, his fingers moving there in the midst of his orgasm. he hangs his head as he pants.

“fuck, i’m coming,” he gasps, growling afterward as if the sensations are causing his hair to stand on end, “keep stroking me, i’m still—yeah—god, you’re my favorite way to get off..”

you can tell that he means it, that the intoxicating effect of his release isn’t making him drunk enough to be insincere. you pump him until he seizes up and starts to hiccup. when the overstimulation becomes too much, he drops himself on top of you in a boneless heap; a sweaty, spent, satisfied mess of a man. the strap-on is still buried in his heat, and his cock is softening rapidly, but he shows no sign of moving anytime soon.

he reaches up quietly and cups your cheek, brushing his nose against it. you can feel him swallow down a jumble of words before his final ones sound out lowly and tenderly.

the way you like them, and the way he knows you need them.

“good job.. you did so well for me, thank you. give me a few, and then i’ll let you have what you really want.”

there's no need to place any bets on his integrity; you know he’ll keep his promise.

he always does.

tags : @voidsuites @asheepinfrance @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @andyrambles @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist

[burntheedges]

Falling For You - Part 2

Joel Miller x f!reader | 10k | 18+ | masterlist | fic masterlist | ao3

fic summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.

Part 2: Joel was pretty sure he couldn't do this.

a/n: hellooo it's time for part 2! where did Joel run off to? let's find out! see tags/warnings below and check the fic masterlist for the full tags. Thank you again @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!! 🧡

tags/warnings for part 2: fluff, angst, panic attack (Joel), more family fluff, some pretty negative inner monologue (Joel), more soulmate lore, pregnancy mention (Maria), stop reading here if you like surprises, hand holding, a bit of other (PG) touching, reader has a brother who died, hand kiss, cheek kiss

Part 2

Joel was on the other side of Jackson before he registered his surroundings.

He came back to himself leaning against one of the houses they were working on, clear across town, chest heaving. He was covered in sweat but he felt ice cold all over.

He couldn’t breathe.

His chest felt tight, like it couldn’t expand far enough to let in any air, like he was trapped in a vice. He pushed back and leaned harder against the wall until his feet started to slip out from under him on the grass. He slid and stumbled his way to sitting against the wall in the dirt.

Joel knocked his head back against the wall and groaned.

Fuck. 

“Fuck,” he muttered aloud. He couldn’t breathe.

And that was how Tommy found him. 

“Whoa, shit,” he heard from his right and grimaced. “Joel? What the fuck–”

Tommy cut himself off as he dropped on his knees next to him. “Shit,” he repeated, reaching forward to grasp Joel’s shoulder.

Joel shuddered. “Can’t–” he tried to suck in a breath and failed. “Can’t breathe.”

“Alright, hey, big brother,” Tommy said, sounding a bit winded himself. He grabbed one of Joel’s hands and put it against his chest, and then flattened his own over Joel’s heart. Joel reached up and grasped it. Tommy pushed on his chest, just a bit, and Joel felt like his lungs opened up with the pressure. “Breathe with me, Joel. Just try and do what I’m doin’.”

He tried, and he couldn’t for a while. But Tommy was patient and after a long while of no sounds in their little corner but Joel’s breathing and Tommy’s voice, low and encouraging, he felt his breath begin to slow.

When Joel could finally draw in a deep breath again, he realized his hands were shaking.

“Shit,” he said, the first words he’d said in god knows how long. “Fuck.”

Tommy huffed a laugh and collapsed next to him against the wall. “You got that right. Shit and fuck, Joel.”

He clasped his hands together and focused on his breathing. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I know.”

“That happen often?” Tommy asked, looking over at him. 

Joel closed his eyes, avoiding his brother’s gaze. “Not so much lately. That’s what… I told you about it. Before.”

Tommy let out a long breath. “Yeah, I remember.” For a moment neither of them said anything, their breathing the only sound aside from the light breeze rusting the grass and the leaves of the tree that was shielding them from the road.

It turned out that out-of-his-mind-with-panic Joel was good at finding hiding spots. Huh, he thought, looking around.

“What…” Tommy sighed, cleared his throat. “What set it off?”

Joel could tell by his tone he was worried Joel wouldn’t answer. He definitely didn’t want to answer but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hide this. Not in a town this small. “She–” he coughed. Took a long, slow breath. “Tommy.”

“Joel.” His brother nudged his arm with his elbow and Joel sighed again.

“It’s… fuck. Ok.” He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. “Bolts.”

There was a pause, and then Tommy said, in a slow, confused voice, “what about her?”

“She’s– Tommy, she’s my–” He couldn’t say it. How could he say it? He didn’t know how to say it. 

Tommy turned towards him on the grass, eyebrows raised. “Wait. No. No fucking way.”

Joel groaned. 

“No, you’re shitting me.” Tommy was starting to smile, then, and Joel closed his eyes again. “She’s what, Joel? Say it.”

Joel sighed what felt like the heaviest, longest sigh of his life. “She’s my…” he shook his head and he swore he could feel Tommy roll his eyes.

“She’s your one, ain’t she?” Tommy was outright grinning now, Joel could hear it. That little shit. “Holy fucking shit, Joel. Goddamn. Bolts is your soulmate?” Joel gave in and looked at his brother and the excitement on his face almost made him want to hide again.

“Yeah,” he muttered, looking down.

“Shit, Joel.” Tommy nudged him with hand. “What are you doin’ all the way over here?” He gestured at the yard around them.

Joel shook his head, brow furrowed. “I panicked,” he said, voice low. “Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Just… panicked. And ran.”

“You what?” 

“I fucking ran, Tommy. What do you think I was doin’ over here, meditatin’? I ran and I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe and I don’t even know how I got here.” Joel was pissed at the universe for doing this to him, but most of all at himself. He felt his chest start to heave again until Tommy reached out and squeezed his upper arm.

“Hey,” he said, “ain’t no way you’re the first person to panic at meetin’ their soulmate.” Joel side-eyed him. “What, it’s probably true! Just– just go back and talk to her, it’ll be–”

Joel was shaking his head. “No,” he said, voice as firm as he could make it. “No way. I’m not goin’ back.”

“Joel–”

“No, Tommy. I won’t.” He didn’t know how to say what he was thinking, that she deserved better and he was broken, anyone could see it, why would he inflict that on anyone else and this? all this was…  god she was so fucking beautiful. What would she think of him?

“Joel.” He could hear the exasperation coming back in Tommy’s voice. “You can’t–”

“I can.” He said and struggled to his feet. “And I will.”

He could hear Tommy’s sigh all the way down the block.

…

Joel spent the next two days hiding. There wasn’t a better word for it. He couldn’t pretend, not in his own head.

At one of their construction projects he managed to find and swap with someone who had patrol assigned the next day. He let Ellie know at dinner, and she grumbled again about not getting to go but didn’t seem to notice that Joel was very carefully not looking around the dining hall. Ellie was going to have a longer day again anyway, with some sort of special project at school in the afternoon.

Patrol kept him outside of Jackson for a while, and he felt his shoulders release the moment he rode through the gates. It was a boring route but just interesting enough to keep him from thinking.

Perfect.

That night he convinced Ellie to have dinner in, at home. He’d thought about it on patrol – now that he knew what Bolts looked like, he was certain he’d seen her around. He was certain he’d see her at the dining hall, too.

He squashed his brain’s attempts to linger on how perfectly he could picture her, after such a short time seeing her.

On the second day he went and dug into one of their projects on the outskirts of town, losing himself in the mindless tasks of ripping up carpet and sanding wood floors.

It was mid-afternoon before he realized he’d forgotten something important.

He froze when he heard Tommy stomp inside the building with Darren, knowing that meant it was well after 2 o’clock. It was Thursday, and therefore a day Ellie didn’t have school in the afternoon.

A day when she would go pick up supplies from Nuts ‘n Bolts. And he could ignore Tommy – he had years of practice, after all – but he wasn’t going to ignore Ellie.

Fuck. 

…

That night Joel walked to the dining hall full of dread. He’d wracked his brain all afternoon and failed to come up with another excuse to eat at home. Besides, Ellie was a smart kid – she’d see through him sooner or later. And he had a feeling it would be sooner if she’d talked to Bolts.

Not that he thought she’d say anything. Not that he knew her, but from the way Ellie talked about her…

Joel very purposefully stopped thinking about it.

He stopped outside of the doors and took a deep, slow breath.

“Hey, brother,” he heard from behind him, and stifled a groan.

“Tommy,” he greeted, turning to look.

Tommy was squinting at him. “Showing your face today, hmm?”

“Shut up.” Joel walked inside without looking back.

At dinner, Joel used his Ellie and Maria buffer from Tommy to the best of his abilities. He kept Ellie talking about school and found himself asking Maria questions like he never had before.

Tommy eyed him the whole time.

“Hey Maria,” Ellie asked towards the end of the meal, looking thoughtful. “How many soulmates are there in Jackson? Tommy made it sound like a lot.”

Tommy laughed. “I didn’t say a lot, I just said it had happened at the gate before.”

Maria raised an eyebrow at her husband. “I’m not sure, Ellie,” she smiled. “According to George it’s more than the general population, Before. Percentage-wise. He was a sociologist.”

“What’s that?” Ellie asked, leaning forward.

“Like a scientist who studies societies and human behavior.”

Ellie sat up straight. “Cool! George from the stables?” Maria nodded and Ellie grinned. “Nice. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

Joel looked over at her. “You goin’ to the stables tomorrow?”

Ellie nodded, looking smug. “I’ve got a delivery and a pick-up to do for Bolts.”

Joel coughed and clung to his neutral expression with every ounce of willpower he had.

“What?” Ellie said, eyeing him.

“Nothin’,” he wheezed and took a sip of water. “Went down the wrong pipe.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and patted him on the back. “What, are you too old to eat unsupervised now?” Tommy laughed and Joel scowled at him.

“You know, we’ve had a few more new people,” Tommy said, tone way too innocent. Joel narrowed his eyes. “Maybe we’ll be hearing about some new soulmates soon.”

Ellie perked up while Joel glowered, trying to transmit stop hinting into Tommy’s annoying little mind. “Ooh, yeah! Maybe I’ll get to see it next time.” 

A few minutes passed without Joel realizing he’d stopped listening, until Ellie elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“What’s with you?”

“Nothin’.” Joel knew the moment the word let his lips it was the wrong move – she’d never believe him, and now she was insulted. 

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him and he sighed. “No,” she said, tone suspicious. “Something is up with you.” Joel felt Maria’s gaze land on him too and stifled a groan. He was certain Tommy was grinning. “I’m going to figure it out, you know.”

Joel shrugged. “Nothin’ to figure out.” His tone was mild but he knew it probably sounded as forced as it felt. He needed to get out of there, out from under the too-knowing gazes of his brother and his kid. Not to mention Maria, who didn’t know him that well but was probably the smartest person in this damn town.

Not that he was going to tell her that.

Ellie glared at him for a minute and then allowed Tommy to change the subject. Joel didn’t trust it for a second.

…

She didn’t ask him about it when they got home, which put Joel even more on edge. She didn’t ask about it before she went to bed, either, or in the morning before school. 

Joel was rusty but he recognized the paranoia that settled over him, the paranoia of knowing his kid was plotting something. Even if he didn’t know what.

Sarah, too smart for her own good, had done this to him more than once. There was the year she became determined to find her Christmas presents early. She’d launched an investigation in their house like nothing he’d ever seen, but still never found them. (They’d been at Tommy’s apartment the whole time.) And then there was the time she’d tried to set him up with her soccer coach (who was happily married, though Sarah hadn’t known that, and who had thankfully thought it was hilarious).

So when Joel found himself looking over his shoulder for a small, too smart menace all day, at least it felt familiar.

Somehow she still managed to catch him completely unawares when she pounced.

“You’re frowning even more than usual, so it must be bad,” she said, appearing from absolutely nowhere inside the house he was working on. Joel did not jump a foot in the air. He certainly didn’t make any noise. And he definitely didn’t launch his screwdriver 10 feet across the room.

“Jesus Christ, Ellie, make some goddamn noise,” he said, heart racing. He leaned against the wall next to him and turned to look at her. She was leaning against the doorway looking far too smug. He grimaced.

“You know your face is gonna get stuck like that.” She grinned at him. He’d said that to her on the road and now she said it to him every time he frowned. He didn’t think she’d noticed yet that he frowned more now because it made him feel warm inside every time she said it, when she picked up stuff like that from him.

Joel sighed. “I’m fine.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Sure. You’re not being weird at all, just like this morning when you left your coffee on the counter and didn’t drink it, or two days ago when you insisted we had to eat dinner at home and miss that weird chicken you like, or when you suddenly swapped patrol shifts with Pete rather than do whatever you’re doing in here. Totally normal Joel behavior. Nothing to see here, folks!”

Joel was a bit taken aback. “Ellie–”

Her face fell and he felt it like a fist around his heart. She seemed unsure of what she wanted to say but frowned. “We’re supposed to be honest with each other, Joel. If you don’t– if–”

“Hey,” he said, and held out a hand. Ellie came over and sat next to him as he slid down onto the floor. “I’m alright. I… It’s nothin’ like that. I’m just— I’m thinking through something’. Gettin’ my mind around it..” He winced internally, knowing he’d promised her already that he’d talk about soulmates, if and when it happened. Maybe he could put that off indefinitely. “It’s nothin’ bad. I promise. Just…” he sighed. “I need to think a bit. Let me figure it out, ok?”

She squinted at him again and nodded. “Ok. I can’t believe you didn’t drink your coffee, though.”

Joel groaned. “Me neither.” No wonder he felt like shit.

“And you have to tell me eventually.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I know, kiddo. I know.”

…

After all that, he couldn't muster the effort to even be surprised when Tommy was waiting on their front porch when they got home. Time’s up, Joel thought to himself, sighing. Just three days and he was already being cornered.

“Evening, folks,” Tommy said, smiling. Ellie doffed an imaginary cowboy hat at him before she scooted inside and Joel smiled against his will.

“Tommy,” he said, voice wary. 

Tommy eyed him. “We need to chat.”

“Tommy–”

“Joel.” Tommy raised his eyebrows. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then Joel sighed.

“Get inside, then.”

Tommy followed him in and took a seat at the kitchen table. Joel heard the back door shut as Ellie went into the backyard. He sighed. “Well?”

Tommy leaned forward and didn’t waste time. “When are you going to talk to her?”

“I’m not.” Joel crossed his arms and frowned, looking away from his brother.

Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Joel, you live in the same very small, rural, post-apocalyptic commune. You’re renovatin’ the damn town and she’s in charge of our supply inventory. How exactly do you plan to manage that?”

Joel frowned down at the table. 

“Don’t answer that, I know you don’t have a plan. You’re just hidin’.”

Joel looked up at his brother, scowling. “I am not–”

“You are,” Tommy said, pointing at him, “and we both know it. You’ve done it before, Joel. When you met Sarah’s mama? When our mama found out you quit football and didn’t tell her?” Tommy counted each item off his fingers. “It’s not the first time you’ve run off to think about somethin’. Sure it won’t be the last.” Tommy tapped on the table. “But there ain’t no other way this ends, big brother. You have to talk to her.”

“Tommy, I don’t…” he trailed off. He took a deep breath and finally let out the question that had sent him running, that had been crowding behind his teeth for 3 days no matter how he tried to choke it back. “Did you ever think about what it meant, that you found Maria here? Here and now, in Jackson.”

Tommy sighed. His face fell, and Joel knew that his brother understood what he was asking. Of course he did, Joel never should have doubted him. “You mean, this whole business is supposed to be fate, right?”

“Right,” Joel said, wincing. He wanted to get up and walk away from the conversation but he knew Tommy wouldn’t let him. Wouldn’t put it past him to sit on him and make him have it. It wouldn’t be the first time, and even if he never said it out loud, Joel knew he was getting old. Older than the last time he’d wrestled his brother, for sure. He curled his hands into fists and pressed them into the table. 

“And if fate brought you here, what’s that mean about everything else that happened?” Tommy’s voice was soft and knowing and the words hit Joel like blows.

He blinked and dropped his face into his hands. His hands were shaking. “Tommy–”

“Joel, I been thinkin’ about that for years, now.” Joel looked up to find Tommy frowning, shaking his head slowly back and forth. “And I don’t think it works like that. No, hear me out,” he said, raising a hand when Joel started to protest. “Maria and I have talked about everything at this point, everywhere we’ve been since, you know, and even before that. And Joel, wouldn’t you know it, but we almost met twice before this.” Tommy raised his eyebrows.

Joel blinked. “What? How–”

Tommy nodded. “Once in Austin. Once when I took that trip, Before, out to California.” Joel’s jaw dropped. “We were even in the same room once.” He laughed, and Joel couldn’t help but huff a startled laugh in response. “It was a big room — well, a mall, technically, at the food court — but still.”

“No kiddin’?”

Tommy laughed again. “No kiddin’. So, way I see it, the universe is bringing us together, somehow, but it wasn’t necessarily meant to happen now.” He shrugged. “I won’t pretend I’m some genius. But it feels right. And George told me it’s not uncommon for that to be true, for people to have near misses like that. Even more common now after everything.”

Joel sat back in his chair heavily. Could it be? He wanted to believe and wanted to run away from it, all at once. He couldn’t bear the thought that any of this – Sarah, Tess, Bill, Frank – he cut himself off. He couldn’t bear the thought of any of that being fated. It made him want to scream, made him want to tear things apart. Tear himself apart. 

But if Tommy was right… for a long moment he just closed his eyes and breathed. 

“Shit,” he said finally, and Tommy smiled. “I can’t… I need to think.” 

But of course Tommy wasn’t going to let him. “So,” Tommy said, leaning forward again. “When are you going to talk to her? You gotta, Joel.”

Joel’s heart was racing as he came down from the rush at what Tommy had just told him. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and groaned. “What do I even say, Tommy? ‘Hey, sorry for the massive fuckin’ disappointment I’m sure it is to be my soulmate, nice to meet you.” He shook his head, waving a hand at Tommy when he opened his mouth. “Don’t even start. We both know–”

“Soulmate?!” Joel whipped his head to the right and found Ellie standing in the doorway, hand pressed against each side of the door frame. She was leaning forward into the kitchen, face and tone incredulous. “Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie,” he groaned and then glared at Tommy, who raised his hands in front of his chest. 

“No, Joel, what the fuck,” she repeated, stepping inside. “You found your soulmate?! When?!” She slapped both palms down on the table. “Who is it?”

Tommy looked between the two of them and then opened his mouth. Joel leaned forward. “It’s–” Tommy started.

“Tommy,” Joel growled, cutting him off.

Ellie and Tommy both started talking at once.

“Joel, you can’t–” Ellie said, crossing her arms.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you can keep it a secret forever, brother,” he said.

“I know that,” he said, voice tense. “Let me tell her.”

Tommy nodded, leaning back in his chair.

“Ellie, it’s–”

“Is this what you were hiding?” She interrupted, frowning.

He nodded. “I just… needed some time.”

She looked at him for a moment and then looked down and set her jaw. “Joel, we said we’d live. That was the deal.”

“I know it was.” He leaned towards her.

“You said you’d tell me, because it seems like getting to know your soulmate might be part of living.” She looked up at him and then back at the floor as she recited his words back to him. “Because FEDRA was full of shit, right? About pretty much everything.” Her tone said she wanted him to tell her that was true. It was something they’d talked about on the road, a bit, an idea she was still getting used to after growing up in their care.

“Right,” he said, voice firm. He didn’t want her to doubt that for a second. 

She nodded. “And soulmates must be something good, then. If they didn’t like ‘em.” She sounded like she was reminding herself as well as him.

Joel nodded, watching her. “Yeah.”

“Who is it?” Ellie asked again, finally, and Joel leaned back.

“It’s Bolts,” he said, and her head flew upwards, mouth dropping. “When we met the other day. We heard it.”

Her mouth made a little ‘o’ of surprise and he felt himself smile. “Really?!”

He nodded. “Really. I, uh. I wasn’t… I just needed some time,” he repeated again, grasping for the certainty he’d felt for the last three days, that staying away was for the best. It was slipping away from him and he knew he wasn’t ready for what he might find in its place.

Ellie moved forward and leaned against the table next to him. She poked him in the shoulder. “Maybe you can take your time and talk to her at the same time. Or something. Bolts is cool, man, you’ll see.”

“She is,” Tommy agreed.

Joel looked between his brother and his kid and he knew he was outnumbered.

“Ok,” he said, and they both smiled. “Ok, look, if I promise to talk to her, will you lay off?” He looked between them. “Both of you. I can’t…” He scrubbed one of his hands through his hair. Ellie reached out and ruffled it up some more and he smiled. “I’ll talk to her but let me take my time, alright?”

They nodded. Tommy stood up. “Alright, Joel. Let me know if you want to talk about it. I’ll see y’all at dinner,” he said, and squeezed Joel’s shoulder on the way out. 

When the door shut behind him, Ellie started to move away, but Joel caught her arm. “Hey,” he said, voice soft. “You know… you know you come first, right?”

She furrowed her brow but met his eyes. “What?”

Joel sighed. “I’m not… I’m not rushin’. But you know, no matter what. Soulmate or not. You come first for me. It’s you and me, Ellie. Before everythin’ else. Ok?”

Ellie wavered for a second, looking a bit like she had no idea what to do with that information. “Joel–”

“Just need you to know that, is all,” he murmured, poking her in the arm.

She grimaced and then grinned as she poked him back. “I do know that, Joel.” She looked shy and he smiled.

“Good.”

“Yeah, ok, enough feelings.” She pretended to puke and backed away from him. He laughed, feeling lighter than he had since he’d heard the music.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go find dinner, kiddo.”

…

Promise made, Joel knew his time had run out. Still, he managed to push it three more days, until Monday. He drifted through those three days and tried not to think too hard about what he was going to do.

Ellie kept giving him looks, though, so he knew he couldn’t get away with going any longer than that. But she kept her word and she and Tommy both laid off of him.

When Joel stood up from his desk on Monday afternoon, though, Tommy grinned. “Where ya headed?”

“Mind your business, you old busybody,” Joel said, and stalked out of the office before Tommy could tell him he sounded like their mother, who used to say that often. 

“Ok, mom!” Tommy yelled after him, and Joel sighed as he headed out the front door.

The walk to Nuts ‘n Bolts was quicker than he would have liked, and Joel grimaced when he stood outside the door. He tugged at his shirt sleeves and then sighed. Not like it’s gettin’ any better than this, he thought. 

“Alright, Miller,” he muttered to himself. “Buck up.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and stepped forward to open the door.

He’d barely taken three steps inside when he heard her voice and froze in his tracks. “I’ll be right there,” she called, and he closed his eyes. Had her voice sounded like that last time? Or the time before?

So warm?

He clenched his fists and cleared his throat. “It’s me,” he said, and it came out garbled. He cleared his throat again. “It’s me,” he repeated, clearer that time. “Um, Joel. Joel Miller.” He winced.

The room suddenly felt still and he realized she’d stopped whatever she was doing. 

“Oh,” she said, voice light, so low he almost didn’t hear it. He took a step forward. “I… let me–”

“I’m sorry,” he called. He hated the hesitance he could hear in her voice. “I… can we talk? I won’t run away this time.” He winced again and took another step forward and to the side so he could peer around the shelf. He still didn’t see her.

“You promise?” her voice sounded closer and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Promise?” he asked, overwhelmed. He could hear her footsteps and he knew she was nearby.

Bolts turned the corner at the end of the row, and Joel felt his breath catch in his throat. She was somehow more beautiful than he’d remembered, just more in general. He traced his eyes over the lines of her body and felt himself start to turn red.

“That you won’t run?” she repeated, and took a single step forward. He nodded and met her, step for step. They were so close now, only a few feet away from each other.

“I promise.”

…

You weren’t sure he was going to come back.

You’d heard all about Joel Miller before you met him. The whole town was full of gossips who loved to talk about anything new. Add in the fact that you were usually supplying the people he worked with on a daily basis and, well…

Safe to say you’d heard all about him.

He was tall, he was strong, he was scary, he was tough, he was only soft with his kid, he was grumpy, he had a great laugh, he never laughed, he was patient. He frowned all the time, but no, when he smiled he was so handsome, and did you see him lift that pillar into place? Did you see his arms? Did you see how careful he was with his big hands when he showed the new kid how to strip a wire?

You might have been eavesdropping at dinner for that last bit. 

But for a while that was all he was to you – rumors. Until Ellie started dropping by to pick up their orders. That’s when you really started to learn about the man behind the stories, because he was all Ellie wanted to talk about.

“Joel says everyone Before wanted to be a contractor when they grew up. Is that true?”

“Joel told me about paintball, did you ever play? Sounds sick. Bet I would’ve destroyed that old man in paintball.”

“Joel said parents used to ‘ground’ their kids as punishment. Were you ever grounded? Was it really just staying home and doing nothing? It sounds like it should mean you have to, like, lay on the ground or something.”

“Ok, we were talking about the Olympics and Joel told me about water polo and luge and ski jumping and I need a second opinion. What? Like, what?”

Ellie was hilarious – every time she visited, Bolts found herself grinning and laughing. Especially at the puns.

You saw her with a man you presumed was Joel a couple of times, but they were always busy. And so for a while that’s who Joel Miller was to you – that broad-shouldered guy who ate dinner with Ellie, a good dad who clearly doted on his daughter.

And then, finally, you met him.

One of the patrols had brought you back some new supplies to sort, and you were waist deep in it (literally) when Joel finally stopped by the shop again. You could hear him moving towards you through the store, and found yourself grinning at the box you were leaning into, amused at the easy banter flowing between you.

When you turned and looked at him, still smiling, you froze.

He was gorgeous – brown hair, warm brown eyes, easy smile. You’d been right about his shoulders – so broad, so sturdy. He looked strong.

Somehow you managed to notice all of that despite the music blaring in your head.

You could barely wrap your mind around it. This man, this incredibly attractive man, was your soulmate? This man that you knew to be smart and capable and a great dad? 

Your soulmate was still alive?

The music started to fade and you felt yourself shiver, breaking whatever spell had held you in place. You stepped forward, and said his name…

And felt your stomach drop when he turned and ran.

…

You might have avoided the dining hall for a few days after that. 

To be honest, at least with yourself – and you’d gotten pretty good at that over the last two decades of apocalypse – you avoided pretty much everything that wasn’t work or your little house nearby. 

You didn’t want to see anyone. You couldn’t get the look on his face when he ran out of your head and by the next day you’d pinpointed it. 

Joel had looked panicked. 

You wavered between worry that you had caused his panic and worry that he really did not seem to be interested in the idea of having a soulmate.

And it’s not like you were on the edge of your seat, waiting for yours. You’d given up on that years ago, as nice as it sounded. There had been a lot going on after all. 

But the idea of finally finding them? Finding him?

Well. You might have been excited, until you saw his reaction. Now you weren’t sure what to think.

Maybe he just needs time, you told yourself, wincing. 

When Ellie came in as normal, like nothing was wrong, you knew he hadn’t told her. You knew it hadn’t really been that long, and he’d clearly been upset, but you also felt a pinch of hurt at that.

You shoved it down somewhere deep.

By the weekend, though, you felt like your secret was bouncing around inside your chest trying to get out. After you closed up the shop on Friday you sighed.

You needed your best friend.

…

Thankfully, when you stepped inside their house, Tommy seemed to be out.

“Maria?” you called, looking around the corner into the kitchen.

“Upstairs!” you heard her call, and turned towards the stairs. “Come on up!”

You found her sitting in the baby’s room sorting little onesies. You knew she’d been collecting them for a while, both from others in town and Tommy on the lookout on the patrol.

“Think you got enough?” you asked, smiling. She rolled her eyes at you and laughed.

“More than,” she said, leaning back in her chair and placing a hand on her belly. “Got about half the hand-me-downs this town has to offer – Isabela has the other half.” She took a deep breath and settled back. “What’s up? Did we have plans?”

You shook your head and sat on the floor by the pile of clean clothes. “Want me to help fold?” you asked, and she nodded. “I, uh, need to talk to you about something.” you reached for the tiny t-shirt on the top of the pile – it said “taco time!” with a cartoon taco that appeared to be dancing – and snorted. “Where’d you get this one?”

Maria smiled. “Donation from someone. I have it written down somewhere.”

“Course you do,” you said, starting to move through the pile. The shirts felt almost too small to fold, which made you smile.

“Talk about what?” she asked, reaching for another onesie to fold.

You sighed. “So, um. I might have…” you put the shirt you were holding down – this one said “donut worry, be happy” with a picture of a donut with sprinkles – and covered your face with your hands. Maybe it would be easier to talk about if you didn’t have to look at anything. “I might have found my… my soulmate.” You coughed.

There was a moment of silence, and you peeked through your fingers.

Maria was frozen, staring at you, jaw dropped, onesie hanging from her fingers unfolded. As you made eye contact she started to grin. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” you said, and let yourself fall backwards onto the floor. Staring at the ceiling, you said, “on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?!” she said, incredulous. You felt something hit your chin and lifted your head – she’d thrown the onesie at you. 

“Seriously?” you asked, holding up the onesie.

“Tuesday?” she said again, holding her hands out.

You sighed and dropped your head back onto the floor. “Tuesday,” you confirmed. “I… he ran away.”

There was another silence, but this time you counted down in your head. 3… 2… 1… 

“WHAT?” 

You smiled at the ceiling. Maria sounded pissed. 

“He did what? Who is it?”

You shook your head. “I think… well. He looked pretty panicked. I think he wasn’t expecting it.”

“Has he been back, talked to you again?” she asked and you shook your head, rolling it back and forth on the floor. 

“Nope.” 

“Who. Is. It.” Her voice was implacable and you knew you’d run out of ways to avoid the question.

“Don’t freak out, ok?” You lifted your head and glanced at her, and found she was staring at you, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “Don’t freak out.”

She sighed. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

You fell back again and covered your face with your hands. “It’s Joel,” you said, voice muffled. There was a long pause.

“Did you just say,” she said, and her voice was carefully even, “Joel?”

You nodded.

“Joel Miller?”

You nodded again, hands still covering your face.

“Tommy’s brother Joel Miller?”

The evenness of her voice was starting to freak you out, so you peeked out from behind your hands. Maria’s face was carefully blank, and you winced.

“Yeah,” you said, heaving yourself into a sitting position. “That Joel.”

Maria stared at you. You wondered if you were about to hear another Joel freaking Miller rant from Jackson’s Number One Joel Skeptic, but after a moment the tension seemed to leech from her shoulders. She sighed again and rubbed her eyes.

“Ok, well clearly I must be at least a little bit wrong about him, if he’s your soulmate.”

You raised your eyebrows, shocked. “What?”

Maria groaned as she leaned forward, but waved you off when you moved to help. “I know you. I hope I know what kind of person would be your match.” She sighed, and it sounded like she’d rather step on legos that say what she said next. “If he’s yours, there must be parts of him I haven’t seen yet.” She grumbled something under her breath that sounded like “all the good parts, probably.”

You smiled. Maria may be stubborn at times, but she was the best friend you’d ever had, and it showed. “From the way Ellie tells it, he’s the best person in the world.”

Maria snorted. “Let’s leave that for another day.” You laughed. “Ok, perception-of-the-world-altering news aside, did you really just meet Joel on Tuesday?” 

“Yep.”

“How is that possible?” She looked stunned. “You’ve met Ellie. Hasn’t he even been to the shop? Isn’t he constantly ordering supplies?”

You shrugged. “He left quickly that one time, never saw his face. Ellie picks up all of their orders now and she loves it.”

Maria hummed. “You know, you might have set the record in Jackson for the longest time in town before realizing you’re soulmates.”

You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t that long.”

She eyed you. “Sure.”

“But anyway. He freaking ran. Not sure what I’m supposed to do with that.”

Maria shook her head. “Now that I know it’s Joel?” She shook her head again and sighed. “Makes more sense. Probably couldn’t handle his feelings.”

“I mean, maybe. He looked so panicked, though.” You bit your lip and looked down at your hands. “And from what I’ve heard from Ellie, he’s plenty up front about his feelings when he needs to be. She’s a good kid, you know? You can just tell he’s pretty open with her. And you can see his parenting in things she says.”

Maria sighed. “Yeah, I know he’s a good dad. Just surprised to learn he’s got room for anything else.”

You frowned, thinking of the look on his face before he’d turned away. “Well, he might not.”

Maria shook her head slowly, looking thoughtful. “I assume you don’t want me to talk to Tommy about this.”

You winced. “Not yet. I need… a little more time.” 

“Alright,” she said, and picked up a new onesie to fold. “But hey,” when you looked up, she was smirking. Uh oh. “You know, now that I think about it,” she grinned, “not sure I’ve ever met anyone more your type than Joel Miller.”

“No,” you said, but she kept going.

“Tall, messy hair, broad shoulders? Those arms?” She waggled her eyebrows at you. “I’ve seen those hands. They must be genetic, because you know how I feel about Tommy’s.” 

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. “Maria–”

“Shoulda guessed the moment I saw him.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that bad,” you said, shaking your head.

She hummed. “Sure,” she said, and you knew she was mocking you.

You sighed. “That was my first thought, when I heard it,” you admitted. “Oh shit, he’s hot, basically.”

Maria laughed. “You know it was the same for me, with Tommy. From the first moment I couldn’t help but think, well damn, just look at him.”

You both laughed. “Guess those Millers have good genes.”

She shook her head, still laughing. “They really do. Bet this baby will be so cute they get whatever they want forever.” You both smiled at the thought. She sighed. “Jesus. What are the odds, us and them?”

“I wondered about that.” You smiled a bit wistfully. “Maybe George would be able to tell us.”

You both laughed again, and for a moment you let yourself feel the warmth of it – that you’d found your soulmate, and he was your best friend’s brother-in-law. What were the odds, really? 

It was hard to feel very hopeful about it, but for a moment, you tried.

…

By the time Monday rolled around, you were wondering if you might need to be the one to seek Joel out. It felt like the ball was in his court, though, and you really didn't want to chase after someone who didn’t want to be chased. You figured eventually you could call in the cavalry, anyway.

The cavalry being Tommy, of course. You wondered if Joel had told him.

You lost yourself in your work, sorting supplies and filling orders, and before you knew it it was almost time for lunch. You’d just started sorting through your last order, eager to take a break, when the bell over the door tinkled.

“Be right there,” you called absently, frowning down at the pile of metal hooks in front of you that seemed to be tangled. How did these get so bad?

You heard whoever it was clear their throat. “It’s me. Um, Joel. Joel Miller.”

You froze, staring down at the tangled hooks in your hands.

Joel.

You needed to say something back. You shook yourself and dropped the hooks. The clank of their impact on the countertop made you wince. Your voice came out strangled. “O..oh. I… let me–”

But he interrupted whatever you were going to say. You weren’t even sure, yourself.

“I”m sorry,” he said, and you felt your stomach swoop. You had no idea what your face was doing, and you were suddenly glad he couldn’t see you. “I…” he trailed off and you had no idea if you should say something. 

What would you even say? 

“Can we talk?” he continued. “I won’t run away this time.”

You heard him take a step and it startled you into motion. You turned towards the door and took a step towards the shelf you knew was probably hiding you from view. You took a deep breath. He won’t run. “You promise?” You stood just around the corner from where you knew you’d probably find Joel and froze.

“Promise?” He sounded confused and you wondered if he was just as overwhelmed as you suddenly felt. 

You can do this. You nodded to yourself and, after nervously straightening your shirt, stepped around the corner. 

He was just as tall and broad as you remembered, even though he was leaning a bit like he was trying to make himself smaller. He was repeatedly tightening one of his hands into a fist and then releasing it, a nervous movement that caught your eye before you met his gaze.

He was looking right into your eyes, and he was so handsome.

“Um,” you said, shaking yourself. “That you won’t run?” You took a step forward and Joel nodded. He took a step forward, too, and you found yourself only a few feet away from him. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his.

“I promise,” he said, voice low. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, along with a lot of worry.

You smiled, and it grew when his gaze dropped down to trace over it. “Ok then.” You reached forward and lightly brushed your fingertips over the back of the hand he had strained in a fist. “C’mere,” you said, wrapping your fingers around his hand and tugging. His fist finally relaxed and he let you slide your hand into his. You felt a tingle slide down your spine.

You turned and led him through the maze of your shop to the back area with its little green couch. Tommy had helped you drag it back here when you’d first decided to use this space for inventory. It was just big enough for you to nap on, or for you to sit on with Joel without touching. You sat and turned so that you leaned slightly against the arm. He sat next to you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. 

You looked down and saw his hand resting next to his leg. Now that you’d touched him, you couldn’t help but want to touch him again. You reached out, slowly crossing the distance between you, and brushed your fingertips over the back of his hand. His hand twitched and you started to pull away, but he followed you – he slid his hand slowly along the couch between you, palm rasping over the worn fabric, before flipping it and taking your hand in his. He squeezed it lightly and you felt the corner of your mouth lift in a smile as you looked back up at him.

“I–”

“I’m–” 

Joel started talking at the same time you did, and you both smiled. He ducked his head but lightly squeezed your hand again. “Go ahead,” he said.

You shook your head. “No, you first.”

He raised his head and met your eyes again. He gave you a half smile that made your heart start to pound in your chest. Handsome. 

“Had the sudden urge to say ‘ladies first.’ Don’t think I’ve said that to anyone in years.”

You snorted a laugh. “I don’t think anyone has said that to me in years. I’m not exactly a lady. And there’s not a lot of time for pretence in an apocalypse.”

Joel shook his head, still smiling. “Being here, it’s so…” he looked around your little shop. “Normal? Not exactly like it was Before, but…”

You nodded. “It was never going to be like Before. But it is weirdly normal. Still gets me sometimes.”

He looked back at you, eyebrows raised. “Still gets you?” He huffed a laugh. “Haven’t you been here for years? Guess it might be a long while before I get used to it, then.”

You shrugged. “I think it still gets all of us, sometimes. Makes it easier not to take it for granted.” You turned towards him a bit more, lifting your knee onto the couch between you. Your hands came to rest next to it and you tried not to notice the heat of his hand against the side of your thigh. 

Joel looked down and took a deep breath. “What were you going to say, before?” 

You smiled again and let your eyes trace over the shape of him on your couch – his tousled hair, the line of his neck, his broad shoulders. His hand in yours. “I was just going to say, I’m glad you came back.”

He raised his head and met your eyes. “Me too.”

“I, uh…” you trailed off, glancing over his face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to. Come back.”

Joel grimaced, but when you started to pull your hand away he held on. “I’m sorry. Again. I’d…” he sat up straighter and turned a bit towards you. The side of his thigh came to rest against your knee and you felt your awareness begin to narrow to all of the places you were touching. You felt it like a tingle over your skin. It was so easy to touch him, you realized, and you wondered if that was part of being soulmates. His voice startled you when he continued, “I’d like to explain. Or, try to. If that’s alright with you.” 

He looked at you, and for a moment you simply looked at each other. It hit you, suddenly, that you were looking at your soulmate. Your soulmate. You smiled again. “Have to admit, I’ve been curious.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said, and you noticed he seemed to be tracing you with his eyes the same way you’d done to him a moment ago. You felt your face start to get hot. “Must’ve been disappointin’... hearin’, um. Hearin’ it. And then me–” he cut himself off, shaking his head.

“I won’t pretend I wasn’t upset,” you said, but squeezed his hand. He was there now, after all. He came back. “But I might have been a bit distracted, you know, in the moment. The upset settled in after.”

“Distracted?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow. 

Your face burned. “Um,” you said, looking down. You peeked up at him through your eyelashes. “You’re, well. You know.”

Joel started to smile and you knew he knew exactly what you weren’t saying. “I know?” His tone was teasing, and something inside your chest came alight. Your soulmate. 

“Joel Miller, you know. Don’t make me say it.”

He leaned closer, just a bit, and his full smile took your breath away. “Would it help if I said I think you’re beautiful? Thought it last week and again today.” 

You grinned. “Well, that does make it easier for me to tell you I think you’re handsome.” You bit your lip. “‘S those shoulders.”

“My shoulders?” he said on a laugh.

You nodded. He had a great laugh, but you noticed it seemed to surprise him every time he did it. “Definitely. And, well.” You hid your face. “I’m getting ahead of myself.”

He flushed, suddenly, and your eyes narrowed.

“Joel?” you asked, and he started to lean back. You reached out and tugged on his sleeve with your free hand. “What?” 

“I, uhh…” he trailed off. “Nothin’.”

“Thought you were going to explain.” When he looked up you smiled, trying to make it clear you were teasing. 

He shook his head, face serious. “I’ll… let me do that. Explain.”

“Alright,” you said, softly, squeezing his hand to encourage him. When you did, you realized your tangled hands were now resting on your thigh, you’d moved them sometime in the last few minutes without noticing. You bit your lip. “Go ahead.”

Joel sighed and dropped his head back to rest against the couch. “Well, I’m sure it was obvious that I panicked.” He peeked at you and you nodded. “I figured my soulmate had died. Long time ago.” He shrugged. “Never thought I’d find you here.” As he said that he let his head fall to the side so he could meet your eyes. “Never expected it.”

You nodded. You knew the feeling.

“But, um.” He took a deep breath. “Alright. Let me get this out, not sure if I’ll be able to. But I want to try.” You squeezed his hand. He shut his eyes. “I had a d– a daughter. Before.” He cleared his throat and you could hear how difficult it was for him to say this. You leaned forward.

“Joel–”

He shook his head and squeezed your hand. You squeezed back. “Sarah.” Saying her name seemed to leave him breathless and you wished you’d known him long enough to pull him into a hug. You figured holding hands was already pushing it. “And T–” he stumbled over his words. “Well, I’m sure we’ve both lost people. Important people.” His free hand, resting on his left thigh, was shaking. You reached across his body and slipped your hand into his. He let you tug it towards you, turning his body so that both of your joined hands were resting in your lap. His eyes were still closed. “And I couldn’t–” he sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed both of your hands. “I couldn’t bear the idea that any of that was m– meant,” he took another deep breath. “Meant to be.” He almost whispered the last few words and you felt it like a vice grip around your heart.

“No,” you said, voice firm. It startled him, and his eyes flew open. You could see the emotions swirling in them. “I don’t believe that. Never have.”

“No?” he repeated, leaning towards you. You could feel his full attention on you and you swallowed roughly.

“Never have,” you repeated. “I don’t believe in fate.”

He looked taken aback. You weren’t surprised, it wasn’t the first time you’d gotten this reaction. “You don’t? What about–”

You shook your head. “My parents weren’t soulmates,” you said. You still felt a pang, all these years later, just thinking about them. You shook it off. “And they were happy. And there are so many people out there who never find them.” You smiled, wryly. “Could be more now.” He nodded. “Way I see it, there’s someone out there who just fits you,” you squeezed his hands, “but that doesn’t mean everything’ll be sunshine and roses when you find them. You still have to work at it, to choose them. And…” it was your turn to trail off, emotions clogging your throat.

Joel leaned forward, seeming to realize you were suddenly having trouble. “Hey, you don’t have to–”

You shook your head, and he squeezed your hands. You realized he had turned more and your knee was now resting on top of his. Somehow it grounded you. You cleared your throat. “My brother. He– Outbreak day.” You took a slow breath in and out. “He met his soulmate young. They weren’t ready. They were just starting to…” you shook your head. “Anyway. It’s not always easy, even if you fit. You might meet at the wrong time. And you still have to try, to want it.” You looked at Joel again and found a look on his face that told you he knew exactly what you meant. 

“I should be honest,” he said, and something about how he said it sent ice down your spine. You almost started to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. “No, listen, darlin’. I want you to hear it from me. I spent years scoffin’ at the idea of findin’ my soulmate. Tommy’s heard me say it, wouldn’t be surprised if he talked about it. But it wasn’t really because I didn’t want one.” He slipped his right hand free from yours for the first time since you’d sat down and your breath caught when his fingertips brushed against your cheek. His hand dropped back into his lap and you missed its warmth. “I think I always did. Want one. I just…” he grimaced. “Was pretty sure no one would want me. No one should, anyway.”

Your eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “What?” 

Joel tilted his head. “What?” he repeated.

“Joel.” you said, leaning forward. “Why wouldn’t someone want you?”

He blinked, taken aback. “I… well. Tommy’d say I’m a stubborn asshole. And I’ve done…” he shook his head. “Things that weren’t…I wasn’t… there’s not a lot of me left.” He struggled to put whatever he was thinking into words, but you were pretty sure you knew what he was getting at.

“Joel,” you said again, and he looked at you, eyes wide. “We’ve all done things we didn’t want to do, or things we regret. And more things we don’t, plenty of terrible things we’d do again if we had the chance.” You lifted your free hand, wondering if you could touch him the way he’d touched you, but you chickened out and dropped it on top of your hands that were still tangled together. “Seems like there’s plenty of you left, Miller.”

“How d’you know?” He sounded like he wanted to believe you but wasn’t sure if he did.

You smiled at him. “I’ve heard all about you from Ellie, you know. You’re a good dad, Joel.” You watched as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Ellie, she… I was different. Before her.” 

“I think I get that,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “I was a different person before I came here.”

You both took a moment to just breathe. You were starting to feel a bit runover from all the emotions you’d just spilled and Joel looked like he might feel the same. You decided to take a chance.

“Besides,” you said, smirking, “I’d say there’s exactly the right amount of you, Joel.” You watched as he started to blush, again, and grinned. 

“Really?” he said, tone wry.

“I already told you I think you’re handsome,” you said. “I meant it.” You let your eyes trail over him again and bit your lip.

Joel coughed. “Earlier, when I said it was nothin’.” You nodded – you did want to know what he’d been thinking when he’d blushed that first time. “The first time I saw you, you were, ah…” he trailed off and turned even more red. 

You thought back, trying to remember… and oh. Oh shit. 

“The box?” you said, feeling yourself get hot. “Oh no.”

He nodded, and suddenly his gaze was different. It was deeper, somehow. “Oh yes. The box.” He smiled and leaned forward. “I was already thinkin’ how funny you were, and how much I was enjoyin’ talkin’ to you.” Was his voice deeper? You shivered. “And then I turned the corner and, well. Shit.” He laughed and shook his head. “Might’ve been my first thought when I saw you. Those jeans looked real nice on you, darlin’.” You shivered. You realized you’d shivered every time he’d called you that. You wanted to hear him say it again.

“Maria said she wasn’t surprised when I told her,” you said, grinning, “because you’re exactly my type.”

Joel looked surprised. “You told Maria?”

“Oh,” you said, but well, of course you had. “She’s my best friend.”

He nodded. “It’s– that’s fine. I told Tommy and Ellie. I’m just surprised you still want to talk to me.” He grimaced. “Maria ain’t my biggest fan.”

You laughed, and laughed a bit more when he sighed. “Oh believe me, Joel, I know. But I think she’ll come around.”

He looked skeptical. “Not sure I agree with you but you know her better’n me.”

His words finally registered with you and you couldn’t help but ask, “what did, ah… What did Ellie say?”

Joel smiled. “She likes you a lot. And me and her, we made each other a promise. About livin’ here.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “A promise?”

He nodded. “That we’d try. Try and live, I guess. Try and make it work. So… I would have talked to you either way, I want you to know that. But like I said, I’m stubborn. I might’ve been a bit slower about it without her remindin’ me.”

You laughed again. “She’s a force, that girl.” You knew he could hear how much you admired her in your tone because he grinned.

“She is,” he said, and you could hear how much he loved her. “I also promised her I wasn’t in a rush. And, well. Is that alright with you? If we take it slow. I want to get to know you, I do, just–”

“Of course, Joel.” You squeezed his hand again. “Of course. I… it was a surprise for me, too, you know. I’ve been on my own a long time. Even if you are way too handsome.”

He blushed. You grinned.

“Well then, darlin’,” he said, and you shivered again. He must’ve noticed that time because he smirked. “How do you feel about havin’ lunch together? Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’d like that, Joel.” You were feeling warm, now, and much more settled than you had in days. You figured Joel had the right idea, getting all of this out in the open early. “Here? Away from the peanut gallery.”

He smiled. “Sounds perfect. I’ll bring somethin’.”

As you fell into an easier silence you both seemed to realize that you were sitting with your knee propped on his and both of your hands tangled with one of his. You both sat back and gently disentangled. 

“Alright, then,” he said, and made to stand. 

You leaned forward before he could. “Joel?” He nodded, looking at you. You leaned forward even farther, into his space, until you could feel the warmth of him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and tried not to think about how much you liked the way his beard felt against your lips. “Thank you for coming back,” you murmured, close to his ear. 

Joel turned his head slightly, and suddenly your faces were only an inch or so away from each other. “I was always comin’ back. Promise.” He leaned forward nudged his forehead against yours. “Thank you for waitin’.” As he leaned back he took your hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly and you gasped.

You nodded. “Of course.”

Joel stood, finally, and you let him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.”

“Tomorrow,” you agreed, and you watched him walk back towards the front of the store. When he was out of sight you fell back against the couch and sighed, head swimming from the way he’d just kissed you. And you’d kissed him.

Holy shit.

...

a/n: !!!