#the soft caress of a quiet morning is so tender

[la-milaflora]

Odanai Pond - Citizen’s Forestry Park, Misawa

December 2023

[tottentz]

SO GIVE ME HOPE ── honkai star rail, sfw ౨ৎ⠀⠀or the things they do when they miss you ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral reader⠀/⠀ft. aventurine, dr. ratio, gepard, boothill, blade, sunday, dan heng, jing yuan, argenti. ♡ˎˊ˗

— AVENTURINE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who uses your shirts as a pillowcase. when aventurine quivers into the night as the chill of an eerie draft embraces his lone figure with a fleeting caress that forcibly erects goosebumps along his nape, he takes one of your shirts and slips it over his pillow, letting the fabric cradle his head as he drifts back into sleep. your scent clinging to the material weave a tender memory where you are rolling onto his side to brush your lips across his jaw, onto the hill of his cheek, and behind the lobe of his ear; and it is enough to carry him for the rest of the day. he repeats this routine every night, especially after a nightmare.  in the stillness, the shirt becomes more than just fabric; it becomes a gentle reminder that you will be there when he returns home to you. it is the few acts of comfort he allows himself. as he succumbs to sleep, the shirt's embrace lulls him into dreams where he can hold you once more.

— DR. RATIO ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who uses your own conditioner. dr. ratio, usually consumed by calculations and analyses, finds solace in the simple act of feeling your essence adornimg his hair. he doesn't admit it, but each time he lathers it into his hair, he imagines your hands gently massaging his scalp, your laughter echoing softly in his mind. for a fleeting moment, the mundane act of washing his hair becomes a ritual of longing, because moments like those are when he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, letting the scent transport him to a place where you're nearby. each strand of hair becomes a canvas for his memories, painted with the softness of your touch and the warmth of your smile. this fragrance, delicate and only yours, lingers on his skin, a ghostly whisper of your presence that stays with him long after he steps out of the shower. it's a small comfort, a way to hold onto when you're not there.

— GEPARD ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who listens to the music you like.  or to whatever recommendation you send. either songs that remind you of him, songs you thought he'd like, or simply the ones you are obsessed with at the moment. he finds solace in the songs that once was a mere background, the familiar tunes evoke scenes of moments spent together, your laughter mingling with the melodies, your voice singing along with his broken harmony. in the quiet of the room, or amidst the bustle of his duties, he finds a private sanctuary within these songs, and when the silvermane guards question him, heat swells beneath the fold of his collar, and he can't help but tug at the silken cloth, ears just as ruby red as his warmed cheeks. if only for a fleeting moment, with each track, he feels a little closer to you; they are a refuge, after all, a place where his longing transforms into a tender reverie.

— BOOTHILL ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who sends you voicemails everyday. no matter if he has no signal, you have grown fond of getting up every morning to boothill's fifty belated voice notes, each message a blend of longing and unspoken emotions. it doesn't have to be about something important, sometimes, he tells you about his day: that lost little girl he helped find her parents? you let him know you are proud of him; a voice message while he is being chased to death? maybe you spent the whole day crying in a corner, but his tone never fail to soften as he speaks. there's a raw sincerity in his voice, an unguarded truth that slips through the cracks of his usual bravado. he knows you might not listen to them all at once, but that doesn't stop him from sending them, each one a small piece of his heart offered up in the hope it reaches you.  

— BLADE ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who sees photos of you. or most likely, the selfies you took with his phone. he will never admit that once in a while he finds himself scrolling through his phone in the stillness of the night, pausing at one where your smile is particularly bright, the curve of your lips and the laughter he can almost hear. your eyes hold a sparkle that seems to pierce through the screen, reaching out to touch the shadows in his heart. he's no good with softness, he knows this better than anyone. all he's ever been is burning up, like a desert caught in it's worst heatwave, and he hopes you won't hold it against him. he hopes you won't clam up again because each photo is a fragment of light in the darkness that often surrounds him, a reminder of moments that felt almost ordinary yet are now imbued with a quiet, aching beauty. he closes his eyes and lets the memories of you guide him through the night.

— SUNDAY꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who keeps personal mementos. in the quiet corners of his room, lie these treasures—small tokens that may not look like much, but mean a lot to him. he still keeps a delicate bracelet you once wore, its gentle clink a soothing echo in the stillness. a photograph of you, slightly worn from frequent handling, laughing, and he still feels the flutter you caused in his stomach. it was the heat in his cheeks, the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him: the consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning. it was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. it was you. he also keeps a pressed flower, its vibrant colors faded but its significance still as fresh as the day you gave it to him. every now and then, he runs his fingers over these items, each touch a silent conversation.

— DAN HENG꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho reads your favorite books. nestled in a quiet corner, he opens the pages you once turned, feeling the faint echoes of your presence with each line, imagining your voice narrating the passages, your expressions as you described your favorite scenes. he doesn't have to understand why you like it, or if he doesn't make any sense of it, he doesn't have to understand the book to understand you, because dan heng tells all of it fondly like it was a memory worth treasuring, but he is downright adoring when you are suddenly in the conversation. and even if the way he says your name isn't obvious enough, the way he softly speaks with eyes half-lidded is enough indication for march to let him know about dan heng feelings. in this quiet communion with your beloved stories, dan heng finds a tender peace, a way to keep your presence alive in his heart until you meet again.

— JING YUAN꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho visits your favorite places. the moment he realized that he was doing it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming: the gardens of xianzhou, with their delicate blossoms, become his refuge, as he stands beneath the cherry trees, their petals drifting like soft whispers of your laughter; at the tea house, he orders your favorite brew, the aroma filling the air with a bittersweet nostalgia. the feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at this places. it was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything. for jing yuan, these visits are a way to keep you close, a fleeting comfort that eases the ache of your absence.

— ARGENTI꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho writes letters for you. at some point in his life, probably around the fifth time you smiled at him as if argenti had hung the stars in the sky and unlocked every secret of the universe, argenti being desperately, desperately enamored of you had become an incontestable fact, just another undeniable statement. and so, he writes of the stars that remind him of your eyes, the moonlight that mirrors your gentle touch. every stroke of the pen captures a moment, a memory, a piece of his soul. and he hopes you believe it because that's the only truth that feels less like an admission and more like a fact- because you've never left his mind since the second he saw you. his words are a tapestry of emotions, woven with threads of longing and affection, many of the letters he writes are never sent but,  as he places the letters in a box, he feels a sense of peace, knowing that in his heart, you are never truly far away.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Paring Joel Miller x Reader  

Summary The tenderness and nerves of spending the night at Joel’s for the first time, and the sweet moments that follow in the morning light [1.2k]

A/N This is a snippet into the lives of Joel and reader from the moments in between. Reading that fic is not a necessity because you’ll get the vibes either way. But fun news—right after this fic is posted, they will be receiving their own masterlist where I will post more glimpses into their lives in Jackson!

When yellowed lamplight no longer fills Joel’s room, there’s a brief period of rustling as the two of you settle beneath striped linen sheets in the dark. His bed is small enough that you can feel each other’s proximity, but spacious enough that you don’t have to touch. But you want to. It was your first time spending the night, and enjoying his company in the hours prior had awakened a selfishness you’d never known.

Maybe it was because he gave to you so freely nowadays. His presence, his thoughts, those smiles he no longer fought so hard to hide. It was hardly your fault that all you wanted to do was take, and take, and take. His supply never seemed to dwindle when it came to you. 

As a stillness settles, you extend a hand his way that no sooner meets the softness of his bare stomach. Caught off guard, Joel briefly sucks it in before relaxing again. He’d peeled off his shirt before climbing into bed, claiming to run hot during the night. Your touch is just light enough to tickle as your fingers drift upwards, catching the dusting of hair splayed across his chest. 

Swallowing, Joel takes hold of your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss, his facial hair scratching gently against your skin. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, worried it was his way of asking you to stop. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He sounds gruff. “Just trying not to lose my mind.” He huffs out an amused sound that’s a little breathless. 

There’s a flutter in your chest as you laugh a little. “Just wanted to feel you.”

Joel guides your palm to rest over his heart. “You feel that?”

It beats steadily, elevated just so. You’re glad it’s too dark for him to see the smile that pulls across your face. He scoots closer, his own hand reaching down to grace the skin of your thigh just beneath the hem of your shorts. There’s always a sureness to his touch. Everything Joel does carries a sense of intentionality. From picking up the cool steel of a rifle to caressing the delicateness of your skin. 

As his fingers continue their gentle passes, it’s more dizzying than you’d expected, and you understand what he meant about losing his mind. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, then your forehead, letting his lips linger as if to leave their invisible mark. An overwhelming sense of comfort melts down your body as he pulls away, so thick and heavy that you exhale and let your eyes slip closed. 

•••

The press of your lips is so soft that Joel almost doesn’t feel them. Almost thinks it’s something sweet he’s dreaming up, especially now that he doesn't have nightmares anymore. His eyes open in an eventual flutter, blinking slowly until it becomes clear that you’re really laying by his side. Your lips peppering pert kisses over his freckled shoulder. Being seen in the morning light makes you pull away as if you’d been caught doing something wrong. Joel just continues blinking at you with the softest look in his dark eyes. Like he’d let you get away with anything forever. 

You study him, the way his cheek looks pressed into the pillow, how his hair looks fluffier and disheveled from a good night’s rest. Both his hands are tucked beneath his pillow as he lays on his stomach. The nervous air of excitement that clouded the room last night has lifted, leaving behind a quiet sense of ease. It’s in the steadiness of your breathing, the quiet acknowledgement of the other that doesn’t need the help of words. 

When you shift, a golden ray of sunlight hits Joel’s eyes, making it clear that it’s later in the morning and that you hadn’t shut the curtains all the way. His eyes appear as more of a caramel brown as he squints with a small disgruntled sound. You settle back into your original position with an apologetic smile. 

No matter how much he tried, Joel still couldn’t grasp the luck that brought you to him. It sprung up out of nowhere at a time he least expected. A time when he’d grown to accept the possibility that the rest of his life would largely revolve around Ellie and being whoever she needed him to be. He’d already let too many people slip from between his fingers to welcome another. 

Back in Spring when they arrived in Jackson, and Tommy introduced you two at the Tipsy Bison, he was terrified because he’d never met someone as kind and intriguing as you. Not before the world fell and certainly not afterward. He convinced himself that if he never opened up or let you in, it would at least mean getting to experience you in bits and pieces. This was before he realized how torturous it was to keep restricting and denying himself. 

When the sound of Ellie’s footsteps arises from downstairs, Joel stretches his legs with a groan. “Kid’s got us beat this morning,” he says. The two of you are usually the early risers.

“Mmmm,” you hum, more interested in the rasp of his low drawl. “And what else?” Joel chuckles as you comb a loving hand through his hair. 

He gets a shy look about him, but indulges you. “Means we gotta get up,” he says. “Breakfast’s started at the pavilion by now.” 

Scooting closer, you hook a leg over his. There’s something about the warmth of him, the musky scent of his skin that makes your eyes close all over again as you inhale. Joel just lays there and lets you. Breakfast could wait a little while longer. 

Later, there’s a weight to your gaze as he stands at the sink brushing his teeth. You don’t mean for him to feel it, but he does, peeking back at you from over his broad shoulders. Freckles and moles alike are dotted across his back, but it’s the scars that evoke that deeper sense of wonder.

As he finishes up, there’s something so painfully intimate about watching the way he wipes his mouth with a towel and begins running his hands through his hair to fix it. Your window of opportunity comes as his arms are lifted, and he doesn’t complain as you hug him from behind. 

“She lives,” he lightly teases, hands coming to rest over yours. In the mirror, he can hardly see you from around his strong frame. 

“You left me cold and alone,” you accuse in a murmur against his skin. He shivers when you deliver a punishing nip along his spine and follow it up with a few lazy kisses. 

“I know. That was real awful of me.” 

You tuck your nose into his warmth, murmuring, “Unforgivable." Then you’re quiet for a moment, enjoying the feel of him. “Maybe a kiss could change my mind.” 

Joel can’t help a fond chuckle as he turns around in your arms.

-

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

From Here On Out Masterlist

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[mattybsgroupie]

— mine ★ matt sturniolo

— CONTENTS: established (toxic) relationship; handjob (m receiving); oral (f receiving); use of “y/n”; lowkey sub!matt

as we arrived at his house, i slammed the door shut behind me. “can you stop being an asshole?” i yelled, getting closer to him.

“yes? if you stop acting like a fucking whore” matt said, raising his voice at me.

“shut up matthew” i was serious this time, and he could it see it in my eyes. “don’t act like you didn’t notice how every fucking girl there was hitting on you”.

matt rolled his eyes back, giving me a whole grin before shouting “you sat on his LAP!”

“he’s my friend!” i answered. “i know him longer than i’ve known you!”

“you’re my fucking girl!”, his loud voice filled the living room to the point it made me shrug, not being able to get a word out of my mouth.

i stayed there, quiet. my arms were crossed as i stared into his eyes — i could instantly tell he regretted saying that. matt was moving in circles, scratching his freshly shaved beard and cracking his knuckles before coming back to me.

“okay? you’re my girl y/n. you can’t do shit like that and expect me to be fine about it” he grabbed my face with both of his hands and stared back at me, talking in an angry, almost demanding tone. his touch, however, was still soft.

“no matthew, i’m not your fucking girl if you’re not gonna be my fucking guy. what the fuck was that scene for?” i put my hands over his and removed them.

“listen y/n, i can’t do this. i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry but it’s better if we go to sleep. i’m fucking tired and you’re drunk” matt never liked to sort things out during a heated moment. he needed some time alone to align his thoughts and finally being able to solve the problem.

“i’m not drunk, matt. i had a couple drinks with your brother, that’s all”.

“and that explains how you end up grinding over some guy’s lap?” he asked me again, and now i was the one who didn’t want to keep on fighting.

“you know what? you’re right. it’s better if we go to bed. but i’m gonna go back to my fucking bed, at my fucking house” i said as i walked out, not bothering looking at his face. “so have a good night by yourself matthew, you ruined the whole night”.

i stopped by the sidewalk, trying to put myself together as tears began to form in my eyes. not only i was angry and disappointed at matt, but i had no one to take me back home since he’s been the one doing this for the past year. on top of that, the weather had completely changed and i was fucking freezing.

i heard the door unlocking and his steps getting closer, but i didn’t dare looking back.

“y/n, what the fuck are you doing? come inside” matt asked and i realized he had snapped out of it already. his voice was tender and full of emotion.

“no, i’m calling an uber”.

“babe” low blow. matt knows how much i like it when he calls me pet names. “it’s late. please come, it’s getting fucking cold here”.

“good” i turned without thinking and finally saw his face again. just like me, he had red cheeks and eyes filled with tears. “you should freeze to death”.

“yeah, i’ll keep that in mind” he smiled. “y/n i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i didn’t say to those girls i had a girlfriend and i’m sorry i raised my voice at you. i know i shouldn’t have done that, can you please forgive me? please?” matt looked at me with puppy eyes. “you don’t have to do it right now but at least get inside. i’ll drop you off in the morning after you rest and we’ll fix things up. please, babe”.

i nodded my head, agreeing silently - i wasn’t gonna say a word to him. i got back to the house and quickly went upstairs, making myself comfortable in his big bed. matt didn’t follow me, and though i wouldn’t lock the door on him, he knew he was going to sleep on the couch.

i glanced at the nightstand clock, 3AM. i couldn’t fall asleep without matt. i missed his smell, his touch, his warmth, the way he’d let me rest my head over his chest while caressing my back or the days where he’d give up acting tough and giving in to my touch, deeply asleep while i kept running my fingers through his curls.

i went downstairs. i had to - my heart was as heavy as my eyes.

i saw matt all curled up on the plain couch, not having a blanket or a pillow. he hadn’t even changed his clothes, still wearing the same grey jeans and black shirt he went out with earlier.

i instinctively got closer and lied down with him, trying my best to not wake matt up. just being around him like this made me let out a long breathe, finally being able to relax.

“hm? babe?” he murmured, too sleepy to actually look at me.

“cant sleep without you. shut up”

“c’m here” matt opened his arms, allowing me to snuggle into him “are you still mad? i love you. love you so much”

i loved him even more. gosh, how much i love him.

i tried to get even closer to him, glueing our bodies together as my hand rested on his thigh. i couldn’t help but kiss his jaw, playfully biting all over him. he giggled softly, melting into my touch as i kept trailing down his neck with kisses.

as i reached his sweet spot, i noticed matt’s breath had gotten slower and heavier. he didn’t say anything - in fact, i don’t think he even bothered opening his eyes - but didn’t complain as i deepened my pecks, slowing sucking onto his pale skin.

of course i was gonna give matt a hickey. if he says i’m his, then i’ll show he’s also mine.

i slowly moved my hands to his waistband, altering between tickling his lower belly and teasing his boxers.

“y/n… fuck” matt mumbled.

“hm? want me to stop?” i asked just to make sure.

“n-no, don’t. i’m… getting hard” he stared at his pants before giving me puppy eyes once again.

“are you gonna be a good boy and behave for once, matt?”

“uhum. yes yes i will” matt started speaking mindlessly, agreeing with anything i'd tell him to do.

“yeah? gonna stop acting like you’re a tough guy?”

“y-you know that im not that tough…” he whispered shyly before looking away.

“you’re right. you’re just a silly boy, aren’t you matthew?” no response. “answer me.”

“y/n, please”

“please what?”

“please let me touch you” he leaned in, trying to kiss my lips. i didn't let him go any further than a peck. “need you so bad”.

“let me take care of you first, hm?” i asked, eventually getting a grip of his bulge over his pants.

“yes babe, fuck” he nodded frantically, eager for me to get him off.

“don’t you think it’s funny?” i said, adjusting myself on the sofa so i could finally unbutton his jeans. “few hours ago you were man enough to call me a slut”. i put my hands inside matt’s pants, palming his hardened cock through his boxers. i could feel a wet spot building up, letting me know his pre-cum was already leaking. “and now you can’t even say what you want?” i teased.

“wanna be good for you” he whimpered as i removed his last piece of cloth, freeing his dick out. matt’s hips bucked into the air, begging to get some friction. “please, please, i’ll behave! i promise i’ll be your good boy”, he cried. poor thing.

i went back to kissing matt while wrapping my fingers around his length, pumping him at a slow pace. i could hear his whines and the small moans he tried to cover by biting his own lips. i placed my thumb at his tip, circling it and spreading the pre-cum down his cock.

matt had gone even quieter, left arm covering half of his face as if he was too embarrassed to admit how much he needed my touch.

soon enough, i had fastened my pace and tightened my grip, his voice finally coming out “i’m gonna cum”.

“did you get permission?”, i asked. he knew how things worked.

“f-fuck y/n, please. wanna cum so bad” matt whimpered once again, cheeks as red as his tip.

“well, you weren’t being a good boy today. do you really think you deserve it?”

“im sorry ah-” he moaned loudly “please, wanna cum. wanna cum for you” he kept repeating over and over, suddenly replacing the words with babbles full of lewd sounds. i could tell how hard he was trying to not release, worried he’d wouldn’t be a good boy anymore.

“go on, baby boy. make a mess for me” it took matt just a few seconds to sputter his cum all over my hand with a loud cry, hips jointing forward during his orgasm. i kept on softly palming his cock as he came back from his high, trying my best to not overstimulate him.

“you're SO fucking good” matt groaned, eyes still closed. “oh” he noticed i had my hand full of his release, “can i make it up to you?”

i nodded and matt grabbed his jeans to clean us up in the sloppiest way i've ever seen. he pulled his boxers back up and got off the couch, leaving me with furrowed eyebrows as i tried to understand whatever he was planning to do. he then took his shirt off so i could see all the purple spots i've left throughout his neck and collarbone, throwing it somewhere and kneeling in front of me. fuck.

matt placed his hands by the sides of my legs and decided to rest his face on my thighs, deeply starring at me with those blue eyes that would drive me insane. he then placed his fingers on my waistband, teasing me in the same way i had done earlier. it didn’t took long until he realized i wasn't wearing any panties and the sweaters i had on were, in fact, his.

“no panties and you don't want me calling you a slut?” he asked before licking his lips.

“matt, be a good boy” i said, reminding him of what had just happened.

“well” he slowly started removing my pants. “i think you should learn how to be a good girl as well”.

i was now fully exposed and matt couldn't shut up about it “you're so fucking wet”, he'd say while placing kisses on the insides of my thighs. as he got closer to my crotch and his kisses turned into love bites, i lost my sense of control - we had the same power over each other, each one of us letting go of any and all armors during intimate moments like this one.

i couldn't help but forcing my hips down on him, whining as i felt his heavy breathing against my clit. matt smiled and looked at me before giving one long lick from my hole back to my clit, just like a kitten. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me and my hands instinctively went to his fluffy hair, holding onto him as if my life depended on it.

i was already on the verge of releasing - anything from him would make me come right on the spot. matt kept on scratching my thighs and occasionally holding my hips to stop me from moving around so much.

“fuck babe, your pussy is so fucking pretty” he said as he moved to my entrance, teasing me with the tip of his tongue. my dripping wet cunt made it easier for matt to get in, and he already knew i was getting close as my pussy throbbed over his face.

not a single word came out of my mouth, the living room being filled with my high pitched whimpers when matt placed his thumb over my clit and played with it - while still eating me out.

“wanna taste you” he almost begged. “wasn't i your good boy? shouldn't you cum in my mouth as a reward?” he started sucking my clit and when my eyes met his, i was thrown off the edge. my orgasm crashed down on me, making my legs tremble as i kept on moaning, matt slowing driving me through it.

i came back to my senses and found matt looking so satisfied, as if he actually had an entire meal - swollen, wet lips, messy hair and the biggest smile on his face. he came closer to my face and allowed me to have a taste of myself in a lewd kiss, both of us acknowledging our fight was over.

“i love you so much”, he whispered. “i love you even more” i said, pulling him back up to the sofa and tangling my legs around his waist, letting his body collapse onto mine as we went on our way to finally get some sleep.

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Mornings with Jungwon;

Pairing; fem!reader x boyfriend!yang jungwong Synopsis; On a quiet winter morning, you and Jungwon share tender moments of love and playful teasing, savoring the warmth of each other’s embrace before the day unravels. Theme; Fluff on top of fluff Warnings; A tiny bit suggestive (?) Your teeth will literally fall off and rot because it's so cute (?) My Masterlist;

A/N; This drabble is so cute and adorable it's my favourite!!!! I hope you like it as much as I do! Reblogs and likes are always welcome, thank you! Also, my inbox is always open, let's chat!!

You woke up to the sound of thick raindrops softly hitting your large bedroom window. The murky winter light barely illuminated the room, leaving it wrapped in a hazy glow. You yawned and snuggled deeper under the blankets, savoring their comforting warmth. After rubbing your sleepy eyes, you slowly opened them.

As your vision adjusted, you noticed your precious boyfriend sleeping beside you. Jungwon lay shirtless under the heavy covers, his rosy lips forming a cute pout, his blonde eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his nose adorably scrunched. His blonde messy hair framed his face, making him look like a charming, sleepy mess.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jungwon’s deep morning voice broke the silence, his eyes still closed. His arm shifted under the covers, seeking your waist to pull you closer.

“How did you know I was staring?” you asked shyly, a smile tugging at your lips as his warm fingers touched your skin, sending a trail of goosebumps along your body.

“I can feel your eyes on me, princesss,” Jungwon murmured sweetly, his lips curling into a faint grin. He opened his eyes, their caramel warmth glowing faintly in the dim light as he gazed at you.

It was dangerous how much you loved him. Jungwon didn’t need to do much to make your heart flutter—just his charming smile or the scent of his skin was enough to leave you captivated. His thoughtful nature and the way he always cared for you made him irresistible.

Without another word, Jungwon wrapped himself impossibly closer to you, craving the warmth of your body against his. Your bare legs tangled with his clothed ones, and he couldn’t help but notice how cold you were.

“How can you be this cold under so many covers?” he asked, his gaze fixed on yours as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“I don’t know,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m always freezing, and you’re always warm. What’s your secret?”

“My secret?” He pretended to think for a moment before smirking. “Ohhh—it’s having a hot girlfriend like you.”

You playfully punched his arm, your cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. Deciding to stretch out, you lay back fully on the mattress. Jungwon took the opportunity to rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“You feel so good… smell so good…” he mumbled, almost like a moan. His voice was soft and vulnerable, as if he were completely lost in you.

Your hands instinctively moved to his messy blonde hair, gently caressing it as he breathed steadily against you. For a moment, the room fell silent—a comforting, safe pause. Then, you felt his fingers slide under your shirt, brushing against the warm skin of your stomach.

“What are you doing, Wonie?” you asked with a smirk, opening your eyes. But all you could see was his hair as his fingertips trailed higher.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the first girl I’ve ever slept with?” Jungwon confessed softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “I mean, like… actually sleeping, spending the night.” He clarified quickly when you stayed silent.

“Let me confess something too—you’re my first, as well,” you replied with a smile. Jungwon lifted his head to look at you, his expression lighting up with pure joy.

Unable to contain your affection, you leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. He closed his eyes, savoring the tender touch, and you peppered more kisses across his face, focusing on his cheeks. Jungwon smiled shyly, clearly basking in your love.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes still closed as he relished the moment.

Soon, your attention shifted to his neck, kissing and nibbling where you know he is sensitive. You watch how he blushes under your touch, his neck and ears turning a soft shade of red. A bit of teasing never killed anyone, right?

“I love you too, Wonie,” you whispered back against his collarbone.

With your sweet confession and your breath agaisnt his skin, Jungwon moans and gently grabs your face, so he could face you. With an adorable blush on his cheeks, Jungwon makes some pressure in your shoulders for you to lay down in your back again so he could rest on top of you.

“We should get up,” he said between kisses. “And eat breakfast.” Another peck. “We also need to return Layla to Jake hyung.”

“I don’t want to leave the bed…” you whined, pulling the covers over both of you.

Jungwon chuckled and brushed your cheek with his thumb, locking eyes with you in quiet intimacy. His gaze was so intense and sweet that it made your heart race. For a full minute, you stayed like that, tangled in each other, feeling his fingers trailing along your thighs.

He didn’t want to leave bed either, but he worried he might lose control if you stayed like this any longer. He would forget everything and take you right there and then, showing how much he loves you. So, with a mischievous grin, he proposed, “The last one to leave the bed has to cook breakfast and clean the kitchen alone.”

Before you could protest, he jumped out of bed. But as he turned, you grabbed his pants, causing him to tumble back onto the mattress.

You burst into laughter and bolted toward the kitchen, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt and a black thong. Jungwon stayed lying on the bed, watching you with adoration. He didn’t mind cooking or cleaning—not when you brought this much love to his life.

Taglist; @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever If you want to be added or taken off the taglist, just let me know!

[pastryfication]

could you write something about oscar proposing to his longtime gf? but maybe something private just the two of them because i imagine that oscar is not big on public engagements

i'm gonna love you 'til my heart retires

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: this was so fun to write and i really love how this turned out!! might be my new favourite thing i’ve written. it’s so lovesick and cutesy and everything i want in a proposal 😭❤️

you’re sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment, overlooking the city of monte carlo as it’s slowly starting to wake up. the sky is a soft pink, the kind that makes you feel like the world is giving you a quiet hug. the morning is still cool, with the scent of fresh coffee mingling with the air. oscar’s sitting next to you, as he always does, his hand resting lightly on yours, caressing the soft skin. there’s a peacefulness between you, a silence that doesn’t need filling.

he’s never been one for grand gestures, despite the world of flashing cameras and roaring engines he’s a part of. you’ve both always preferred the quiet moments, the ones away from the spotlight. no one sees the way he looks at you when you’re reading, or how he listens so intently when you talk about your day. no one sees the kisses you share when he comes home after a triple header, or how you so tenderly takes care of him when he feels burdened by the intense pressure. it’s these moments you cherish, the ones that feel like they belong only to the two of you.

as the city slowly comes to life, he shifts a little, and you feel him reach into his pocket. your heart skips, but you don’t dare to hope too much, even though you’ve been together for years, sharing everything from lazy sunday mornings to the stresses of his racing season. he pulls out a small box, simple and unadorned, much like the way he lives his life off the track.

he turns to you, and for a moment, he’s just looking at you, as if trying to find the right words. when he speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an unmistakable softness in it, a tenderness that’s only ever for you.

“you know,” he begins, “i’ve been thinking about this for a long time. it’s funny . . . i’ve driven some of the fastest cars in the world, experienced an immense amount of adrenaline, but nothing’s ever made my heart race like you do.”

he pauses, taking a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours in an eye contact that feels so safe. so familiar and right. “when we’re out there, on the track, everything is loud and chaotic, but when i’m with you, it’s like everything quiets down. it’s just . . . us. it’s just peaceful. you give me that calm, that feeling that no matter what happens, as long as i have you, i’m exactly where i’m supposed to be.”

you feel yourself tearing up, and he smiles a little, a soft, genuine smile that you know is reserved only for you. “i’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, you know that. it’s just how i’m wired. i’ve spent so much of my life focused on racing, on training, that i didn’t really think i had space for anything else. but then you came along, and suddenly, everything else just fell into place. you made me realize there’s more to life than just the next race, the next victory. you gave me something to come home to, something to look forward to beyond the track.”

his hand tightens a little on yours, as if grounding himself in this moment. “i know i’m not always the best at saying how i feel, and i’m definitely not good at big romantic gestures, but you’ve always seen me for who i am, even when the rest of the world just sees the driver, the competitor. you see the real me, and you still choose to love me, and that’s something i’ll never take for granted.”

he opens the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring that’s just like you would dream of. it’s not flashy or oversized, just perfect, like he somehow reached into your mind and pulled out exactly what you would have chosen.

“i didn’t want anything big or showy because i know that’s not you. and thats not me either.” he continues, his voice a little softer now. “but i want you to know that i’m sure, more sure than i’ve ever been about anything. i want to spend the rest of my life with you, in these quiet moments, in this perfect calm that we’ve built. i want us to keep building this life together, one day at a time.”

he takes another deep breath, his voice growing more tender as if he wants to say it just right. “you’ve been my best friend, my confidante, my anchor in a world that’s always spinning too fast. when everything else feels out of control, when everything becomes too much, you’re the one thing that keeps me grounded. you’ve been with me through the highs and lows, the victories and the defeats, and you’ve loved me through all of it. i can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

he swallows, his eyes never leaving yours. “i want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. i want to share all the quiet moments, the simple joys, and even the struggles, because i know that with you by my side, i can handle anything. you’ve made me a better person, a better man, and i want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me.”

his eyes search yours, vulnerable in a way that makes your heart ache with how much you love him. “will you marry me?” he asks, and you can hear the slight tremor of nerves beneath his steady tone.

there’s no hesitation in your heart. this is right, this is everything you’ve ever wanted, wrapped up in this quiet, perfect moment. tears are springing in your eyes as you nod, your voice catching in your throat as you whisper, “yes.”

he slips the ring onto your finger, and it fits perfectly, like it was always meant to be there. he leans in and kisses you, soft and sweet, the world around you fading away. it’s just the two of you, as it’s always been, and as you want it to always be.

you rest your head on his shoulder, your hands intertwined, the ring catching the morning light. the city continues to wake up around you, but it feels like time has slowed down, just for you two. there’s no need for words. everything you need to say is in the way you hold each other, in the peaceful quiet that wraps around you both.

this is your moment, perfectly private and beautifully simple, just like the life you’ve built together.

[b1tchyboyxd]

˚₊‧꒰ა Male wife reader x Husband ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

★ This is going to be short, I'm lazy lolzz ★ There may be several grammatical errors or things like that, I wrote this shit at 4 in the morning during a moment of epiphany, Anywayzzzz, I hope you like it

Tw: none.

Your husband had been away all day, working hard to provide for you. As the evening drew near, you stood in the kitchen, preparing a homemade meal for him, knowing how much he appreciated your cooking. Just as you were about to finish, you heard the front door open and the sound of your husband walking inside.

You continued to put the finishing touches on the dish, your heart fluttering at the thought of seeing your husband's face light up when he tastes your cooking. As he entered the kitchen, you heard him let out a weary exhale, hinting at the long, exhausting day he'd had.

You heard your husband approach behind you, and soon felt his strong, comforting arms wrap around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. His body pressed against your back, as if seeking solace in your warmth and presence.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of the food you'd been preparing. A soft smile formed on his lips as he spoke, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

"Mmm... that smells amazing." he murmured, his grip on you tightening slightly.

You turned your head to glance at him, smiling at the sight of his weary expression.

"Long day, love?" you asked gently, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

He nodded, mumbling a quiet "yeah" before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The feeling of his breath so close to your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"I made your favorite. It should be ready in a few minutes." you said, continuing to play with his hair.

He hummed in contentment, nuzzling into your neck even further.

"Thank you... you know I look forward to your cooking all day." he murmured, his hands beginning to wander over your body, as if seeking physical reassurance that you were real and right there in his arms.

You blushed at his words and the way his hands were now caressing your body, his touches conveying a mix of possessiveness and need.

"You don't have to thank me, I enjoy doing this for you." you replied, your cheeks growing warmer as he traced the outline of your curves with his fingertips.

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin for a few moments before he spoke again.

"You're too good to me. I really don't know what I did to deserve you..." he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something almost possessive.

You could hear the hint of possessiveness in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your veins. You turned in his arms, facing him fully as you reached up to cup his face in your hands.

"I could say the same, love." you said, your eyes meeting his in a tender gaze.

"Now go rest a little before the food is ready." You say.

Your husband hesitated for a moment, his grip on you tightening just slightly.

"But... I don't want to let go of you..." he protested, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of stubbornness.

You chuckled softly, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb.

"It'll only be a few minutes, love. Go sit down and relax, okay? You look exhausted..." you urged, your voice gentle but firm.

Your husband let out a sigh, his resistance crumbling as he relented to your request. He released his hold on you, reluctantly stepping back.

"Fine... I'll be in the living room," he mumbled, his eyes still fixed on you, as if afraid to look away.

You smiled at his hesitation, knowing that he would begrudgingly listen to you.

"I'll let you know when dinner is ready," you reassured him, knowing that as much as he wanted to stay glued to your side, he did need some time to unwind.

He nodded, his expression a mix of reluctance and resignation.

"Alright... I'll be waiting..." he replied, his gaze lingering on you for a few more seconds before he finally turned and headed for the living room.

With your husband temporarily taken care of, you finished up the last touches on the dish, feeling a pleasant sensation in your chest knowing that he would enjoy the meal. Once everything was ready, you carefully carried the food to the dining table and called out to your husband.

"Love, dinner's ready!" you called out, your voice ringing through the house. Moments later, you heard the sound of approaching footsteps and your husband emerged from the living room, his face still showing traces of weariness but his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food laid out on the table.

He took a seat at the table, his gaze fixed on the meal in front of him.

"Looks delicious, as always," he complimented, a small smile appearing on his lips. You took a seat opposite him, feeling a sense of satisfaction seeing the look in his eyes, knowing that you had managed to bring a little bit of joy to his weary soul.

He wasted no time in serving himself a portion, his stomach growling loudly, a reminder of how hungry he was. He took a bite and let out a satisfied sigh, his eyes closing as he savored the taste.

"Mmm... it's so good. You always know what I need, don't you?" he murmured, his eyes meeting yours once more.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at his words, and you blushed a little under his gaze.

"It's just some simple cooking," you replied, downplaying your skills. "But I'm glad you enjoy it." you added, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He shook his head slightly, swallowing his mouthful before speaking.

"It's not just the food, though. It's the fact that it's made by you. That makes it special. Everything you do seems perfect to me." he said, his voice laced with adoration. You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, his praise causing your heart to flutter.

You found yourself at a loss for words for a moment, not having expected such a sweet compliment. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine affection he held for you.

"You're... too much, you know that?" you managed to say, your voice a little shaky from the rush of emotions coursing through you.

He chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What, for appreciating my wonderful Husband ? I think it's pretty justified." he replied, his tone cheeky yet affectionate. He reached across the table and took your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, his warm fingers sending tingles up your arm. You looked at him, feeling a mixture of shyness and affection.

"I can never get used to you showering me with such compliments..." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly again, his grip on your hand firm but gentle.

"I know, but I mean every word." he said, his eyes never leaving yours. He moved his free hand to cradle your face, his touch almost reverent as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

You couldn't help but lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed momentarily. A soft smile played on your lips, the feelings of love and adoration he stirred within you almost overwhelming.

"You're such a sap," you said, teasing him gently as your eyes opened to meet his gaze again.

He smirked at your comment, unbothered by the light jab.

"Guilty as charged." he replied, his expression playful. He continued to hold your hand in his grasp, his thumb still tracing lazy circles on your knuckles. "But can you blame me when I have the most perfect Husband in the world ?" he said, his voice filled with affection.

Your cheeks heated up at his words, your heart racing in your chest. "You're unbelievable," you mumbled, a mix of amusement and flusteredness in your voice.

"I'm far from perfect, you know that." you added, your eyes lowering as you tried to brush off his compliments.

He shook his head firmly, his gaze unwavering.

"Don't even start with that. To me, you are perfect. And nothing you say will change my mind." he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. He reached over and lifted your chin with his fingers, making you meet his intense gaze once more.

You found yourself lost in his eyes, his intense stare making your heart skip a beat. The sincerity and determination in his voice left no doubt in your mind that he truly believed what he said.

"You... you're impossible," you whispered, your voice almost trembling. Despite your words, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered at his unwavering devotion.

He smiled softly, his touch still gentle but possessively holding your chin in place.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't have it any other way." he replied, his eyes flickering with something deeper, something almost primal. He sat back in his chair, but his grip on your hand didn't loosen, his fingers intertwined with yours.

You swallowed, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness under his intense gaze. You knew that look in his eyes, that hint of possessiveness that came out when he was particularly worked up.

"Are you finished eating?" you asked quietly, your voice slightly hoarse from the emotions swirling within you.

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours.

"Yeah, I am." he replied, his voice low and slightly raspy. He didn't loosen his grip on your hand, his fingers now lightly tracing patterns on your skin. "I'm not done with you just yet, though." he added, a hint of darkened hunger in his tone.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your heart rate quickening. You knew that look, that tone of voice. It meant he had something else in mind, something that didn't involve food or rest. You tried to keep your composure, even though your body was already reacting to his touch and the implication behind his words.

"What do you have in mind, then?" you asked, attempting to keep your voice steady.

His gaze darkened, his eyes never leaving yours as he spoke.

"Oh, I have a few ideas in mind..." he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He stood up from his chair without warning, making his way around the table towards you. He pulled you up from your chair as well, his hands on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, his body pressing against yours tightly.

You let out a small gasp as he pulled you close, your body molding perfectly against his. The heat emanating from him was almost scorching, and you could feel the hardness in his trousers pressing against you, a reminder of his desire. Your heart raced in your chest, your breath coming in short gasps as you looked up into his eyes, seeing the mixture of need and possessiveness burning within them. His hands on your hips gripped you firmly, as if he was trying to anchor you in place, as if he could never get enough of you.

He pressed you against him even tighter, his hands moving from your hips to your face, holding you in place. His eyes roamed over your features, as if committing every detail to memory. "I've waited all day for this, you know." he said, his voice low and rough. "For having you all to myself." His lips moved closer to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke. His body was tense, coiled with need and desire.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he added, his voice filled with both adoration and a hint of desperation.

───────────── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ────────────

Creativity is gone so that's it lol

───────────── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ────────────

Bye~

[driverlando]

can’t stop thinking about reader who develops bruises really easily and oscar putting ice + kissing them argh😩🫶

You’d always bruised easily, a trait that Oscar found both endearing and concerning. The smallest bump or scrape would leave a mark, a dark reminder of even the gentlest of touches. Tonight, however, the bruises came from something far more intense.

The night had started innocently enough, with a quiet dinner at home and a bottle of wine. As the evening progressed, the conversation turned flirtatious, the atmosphere charged with unspoken desire. By the time you made it to the bedroom, the air was thick with anticipation.

Oscar had been particularly passionate, his usual gentle touches replaced by a more primal urgency. His hands had gripped your hips tightly, his lips and teeth marking your skin with love bites and bruises in the heat of the moment. You loved the way he took control, the way he made you feel completely desired, but it often left your skin tender and marked.

The next morning, as the sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred in bed, feeling the familiar ache of fresh bruises. Oscar was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful, a stark contrast to the intensity of the previous night. You carefully got out of bed, trying not to wake him, and padded to the bathroom.

In the mirror, you saw the evidence of last night’s passion—dark bruises on your hips, love bites on your neck and shoulders. You sighed, both loving and cursing how easily your skin showed the marks of his desire.

You made your way to the kitchen to grab some ice, hoping to reduce the swelling. As you rummaged in the freezer, you heard Oscar’s footsteps behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his chest warm against your back.

“Morning,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit sore,” you admitted, holding up the ice pack. “Thought I’d try to ease some of the bruising.”

Oscar turned you around, his eyes scanning the marks on your skin. His expression softened with a mix of guilt and concern. “I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers gently tracing the bruises. “I got carried away.”

You shook your head, placing a hand on his cheek. “Don’t be. I love how passionate you get. Just comes with a few marks.”

He sighed, taking the ice pack from you. “Let me help.”

He led you to the living room, sitting you down on the couch. Oscar knelt in front of you, his touch tender as he pressed the ice pack against the darkest bruise on your hip. You shivered at the cold, but his gentle kisses on your skin quickly warmed you.

“I hate seeing you hurt,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Even if it’s from making love.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s part of it. Besides, I like having reminders of you.”

He smiled at that, his lips curving into that boyish grin you adored. “Still, I want to make it better.”

Oscar continued to ice the bruises, his touch careful and precise. After a while, he set the ice pack aside, his hands and mouth taking over. He kissed each bruise, his lips soft and lingering, as if trying to kiss away the pain. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of warmth through you, the ache in your skin fading under his care.

“Does that help?” he asked, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yes. It feels good.”

His kisses grew bolder, moving up your body, from your hips to your stomach, to your breasts. He kissed every mark he’d left, his hands gently caressing your sides. You arched into his touch, your body responding to his careful attention.

Oscar’s eyes darkened with desire as he kissed up your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt. He pulled it over your head, revealing more of the marks he’d left. His expression softened with a mix of pride and regret.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “I never want to hurt you, but I can’t help wanting to mark you, to show you’re mine.”

“I know,” you whispered, your hands cupping his face. “And I’m yours. Completely.”

His lips captured yours in a deep, slow kiss, his hands exploring your body with renewed passion. You could feel his need, his desire to show you just how much he loved you. He lifted you, carrying you back to the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed.

Oscar’s kisses became more urgent, more demanding. He trailed his lips down your body, worshipping every inch of you. When he reached your hips, he kissed the bruises again, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You gasped, your hands clutching the sheets, your body on fire with desire.

He moved lower, his mouth finding your core, his tongue teasing your clit. You cried out, your hips bucking against his mouth. He held you down, his hands gripping your thighs, his tongue working you expertly. The pleasure built quickly, your body arching off the bed as he drove you closer to the edge.

“Oscar,” you moaned, your voice trembling. “Please, I need you.”

He pulled back, his lips wet and swollen. “Not yet,” he said, his voice husky. “I want to take my time.”

He climbed over you, his body pressing you into the mattress. He kissed you again, slow and deep, his hands roaming your body. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, but he took his time, making sure you were ready.

When he finally entered you, it was slow, deliberate. He filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming. He set a gentle pace, each thrust slow and deep, his eyes locked on yours. You could see the love, the desire, the need in his gaze, and it made your heart swell.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Every part of you.”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling with pleasure. “I’m yours, Oscar. Always.”

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails digging into his back. The pleasure built to an unbearable peak, your body shuddering with each thrust.

“Oscar, please,” you begged, your voice desperate.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. The added sensation sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You cried out his name, your vision going white with pleasure.

Oscar followed soon after, his release shuddering through him. He collapsed onto you, both of you panting, hearts racing. After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were nestled against his chest.

You lay there together, tangled in each other, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you. The bruises were still there, but the pain was a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of Oscar’s love and care.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt safe, cherished, knowing that no matter what, Oscar would always be there to take care of you, to love you, bruises and all.

[satori-runa]

—Morning comes in silence

Summary: You spend the morning in bed with your husband at your side, watching over him as he rests peacefully for the first time in ages.

Tags: Romance, Hinted sexual content but no specific graphical explanations, established relationship, fluff

Words: 0,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Gente rays of orange sunlight shimmered through the forst-covered windows in the early morning hours, followed by the graceful fresh snow that carried a familiar cold breeze through the land. Yet, none of that chill reached the comfort of the bedroom that you shared with your husband.

Only the soft, sun-kissed glow filtered in, casting a golden warmth over everything, draping the comfort of your home into a pure teint of liquid gold. It especially highlighted the fine features of the man lying beside you in the huge bed. The white silk sheets pooled around his large form, shared between the two of you. And you could swear, his body could be a canvas painted by the purity of the morning light and the feelings that carried over from the night before.

Capitano was truly a man of many things, status, wealth and power. He could command the word with a singe motion if he desired so and yet here he lay, stripped of the weight of his title, exposed and vunerable under the tender caress of your warm fingertips. Your thumb traced his sharp jawline, brushing over the dryness of his lips, then wound through the smooth raven locks that you had toyed with so many times before. The sensation was familiar, comforting, like a safe haven that you shared in a world full of coldness.

Your cold feet brushed against his leg beneath the sheets, a subconscious search for the warmth and connection that still lingered from the night before. His body twitched at the cool touch, a small reaction to the memory of the heat you’d shared in the dark, but he made no effort to pull away. Instead, he shifted slightly, allowing the space between you to close, his warmth enveloping you as naturally as the sunrise.

No words passed between you, nor were they needed. In the quiet of this sacred morning, your gazes spoke volumes. You remembered how the night began—the way his cold, sharp gloves were the first to fall. He had always hidden his hands, guarded them from the world, but last night, he let them be seen, exposed to your eyes alone. His skin, tinted with that strange, mysterious blue, revealed more than just his body. At first, he hesitated, insecurity flashing in his eyes, but those fears had melted away with the softness of your lips, pressing gentle promises into his skin. You had kissed away the doubts, each touch a vow that you’d never judge him for what he was, for how he looked. All you needed was him, the man beneath the surface.

And he had given that promise back to you, wordlessly. His lips had remained silent, but his hands spoke. They had traced your skin with a slowness that bordered on torment, fingers gliding over your legs, up your thighs, drawing out your impatience with teasing precision. The way he touched you, the way he worshipped you with his hands, was his answer—a declaration that you were everything to him.

Now, in the glow of dawn, those hands rested between the folds of the sheets, still close to you, as if even in sleep he couldn’t bear to be far from your warmth. His raven hair spilled over the pillow, shadows and light playing over his face, making him look softer, almost innocent in the early morning light. You smiled faintly, brushing a stray lock from his brow, recalling how those same locks had been tangled in your fingers the night before, how his breath had hitched against your neck when your cold hands had explored the softness of his skin.

There was a serenity in the room now, a sense of peace that wrapped around you both. The world outside didn’t matter. Status, power, wealth—they were distant, meaningless in this moment. All that existed was the warmth of his body beside yours, the sheets that clung to your limbs, and the silent affection you shared.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Morning Kisses.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!!

authors note - happy birthday to my one true love, honestly, can’t put into words how much he, his music and just his being has had an effect on my life. here’s to thirty-one!! 🥂

word count - 700.

in which, it’s the morning of harry’s birthday and what better way to wake him up then with kisses.

The early morning light seeps through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. The world outside is still quiet, the city not yet stirring, but here, in the warmth of your shared bed, time feels suspended.

You wake first, your body instinctively curling closer to his before your eyes even open.

Harry lies beside you, his breathing slow and steady, his face softened in sleep. His curls are tousled against the pillow, a few stray strands falling over his forehead.

The faintest shadow of stubble dusts his jaw, and in the gentle light, you can see the way his lashes fan against his skin. His lips, slightly parted, hold the trace of a peaceful dream.

Thirty-one today.

A thought that lingers in your mind as you take him in, memorising every detail, as if you haven’t done this countless times before.

His bare shoulder peeks from beneath the duvet, the curve of it strong yet relaxed in slumber. The rise and fall of his chest is steady, reassuring. The warmth of him radiates beneath the covers, a familiar comfort that has long since become home.

You reach out, barely brushing your fingers over his arm, the heat of his skin meeting yours in a silent connection.

Carefully, you reach up and brush a stray curl away from his forehead, your touch featherlight, not wanting to wake him just yet. But you can’t help yourself—the quiet adoration swelling in your chest demands to be expressed.

Leaning in, you press a soft kiss to his temple, lingering just a second before moving down to the bridge of his nose, then his cheek, your lips barely grazing his warm skin.

You’re just about to press a kiss to his lips when a deep, raspy voice interrupts you.

"Are my lips going to get a kiss as well?"

His voice is thick with sleep, slow and heavy, his words melting into the quiet of the morning. His lips curve slightly, eyes still closed, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice, like he’s been awake just long enough to feel you moving against him, to soak in the affection you so freely give.

Your heart stirs at the sound of him, the warmth of him, the way his presence alone can make you feel like the safest, softest thing in the world. He shifts slightly, his body stretching beneath the duvet, muscles flexing as he sinks further into the pillows, waiting.

And, of course, you oblige.

There is a softness in your embrace, a tender interplay of delicate touches that transcends the need for words. The gentle rustle of sheets accompanies every subtle movement, as you press your lips against his ones.

The closeness of your bodies creates an intimate cocoon, where the only language is that of touch—a language that tells of love, adoration, and the beauty of shared vulnerability.

Time seems to dissolve in the cocoon of this quiet moment, as you explore the contours of his face with soft, lingering kisses.

The intimacy of the make-out session evolves naturally—a slow, meandering journey through the realms of affection and desire.

Every soft, deliberate caress of your lips, every tender press against his skin, feels like a silent vow to cherish him on this day and always.

In these moments, the world beyond the confines of your bed fades away. There is only the gentle interplay of warmth, the quiet murmur of your heartbeats, and the soft interplay of skin and breath.

The morning air, cool and crisp against the heat of your shared passion, lends a surreal quality to the experience, as if the very elements of nature have conspired to celebrate the love that fills the room.

As you lose yourself in the blissful intimacy of the moment, your heart overflows with gratitude for this shared life—a life where each birthday becomes a gentle reminder of the love and tenderness that defines you both.

With every kiss, every soft, lingering touch, you reaffirm the silent promise of devotion and the timeless beauty of being in each other’s arms on this, his special day.

“What do you want to do for your birthday, sweet boy?” You muse, pressing one last kiss to his lips.

He smirks at you. “— I have a few ideas.”

[connorsui]

"Tethered By Silence"

Pro Hero Katsuki x reader

Synopsis: he may not say it even when you're awake .. but his actions speak for him

Genre/warnings: fluff, soft katsuki, possessive attitude, constant physical touch, domestic moments, love without words, katsuki being gentle, overprotective on katsukis part, no warnings tho ...we die smothered in love

Note: more scenes of this man showing you how much he truly cares ...

w.c: 2.1K

Katsuki was not a man of many words. He had never been one to express his feelings eloquently, least of all when it came to you. For all his sharp edges and blazing fury, he was curiously quiet in the matters of the heart, as if his emotions were too large to be corralled by simple language. He wasn’t born with the gift of easy charm, and certainly not the grace to wrap affection in neat, verbal packages. He had always found his power in action, in the physicality of things—the blast of his quirk, the crackle of his fists, the way the world responded to his presence.

And so, it was with you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel love for you; in fact, the reality was quite the opposite. If anything, his love for you was too much—so overwhelming that he feared it might escape him in ways he couldn’t control, reduce him to something soft and breakable. Love, for Katsuki, was an act of survival, a fire that burned deep in his chest, wild and untamed, and you were the tinder. Every time he caught sight of you, every time your laughter cut through the air, light and free, or you absentmindedly twirled his fingers between your own, the fire roared louder, knocking the breath out of him.

But saying the words “I love you”—that simple, declarative statement?—seemed beyond him, like it might lessen the weight of it, reduce the magnitude of what it meant to him. He knew you wanted to hear it, could see it sometimes in the soft expectancy of your gaze, but Katsuki wasn’t the kind of man who could take the vastness of what he felt and stuff it into three small words.

So, he showed you.

Actions, he believed, were better than words anyway.

Like, It was something almost ...poetic ...about the way he moved around you, like the world demanded he orbit you constantly, pulled in by an invisible force too strong to resist. He wasn’t one to articulate such thoughts—his mind too pragmatic to linger on romantic notions—but the way he sought your touch told the story his lips never could. When you walked side by side, his arm always found its place around your shoulders, anchoring you to him, a silent promise of protection and possession. When you sat down together, it was the same—his hand finding yours, fingers curling over yours as though if he let go, you’d slip away from him.

He would never let that happen.

Mornings were when you caught him at his most vulnerable, when the light was soft and gold, casting a halo around your resting form. In those quiet, private moments, he allowed himself to admire you. His breath would hitch in his throat as he ran his fingers gently over your cheek, brushing stray strands of hair from your face so he could continue to watch you sleep in peace. It was then that the words bubbled up unbidden in his chest, words he dared not speak aloud but couldn’t stop from whispering when he thought you were deep in slumber.

"You’re so damn beautiful," he’d murmur under his breath, his thumb gently caressing your skin, his eyes tracing the delicate curve of your jawline. "I love you."

You stirred sometimes, your lips curling in a sleepy smile as though his voice reached some part of you even in sleep. But when you awoke, if you dared ask him about it, his response was always the same—sharp denial, the faintest pink dusting his cheeks as he scowled.

"Wha- ..what are you on about?; I didn’t say shit?, don’t make things up..."

But the way his hand lingered on your cheek after pulling back, the tenderness in his gaze—those were the moments that told you the truth he couldn’t bring himself to say.

Katsuki’s need to take care of you extended to everything, even the mundane. Every evening, when you offered to help cook dinner, his response was always the same—a scoff and a gruff order for you to “sit your ass down.” You’d try to insist, say that you could at least chop some vegetables or stir a pot, but he wouldn’t have it. He didn’t need help, not when it came to you. What he wouldn’t say—what he’d never say—was that he wanted to cook for you. That he found a strange sense of peace in it, in knowing that he was the one providing for you, making sure you were cared for. It was his way of showing love.

Of course, his words were always wrapped in attitude.

"Just sit there and shut up, I’ve got this,”

he’d grumble, his back to you as he moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. But you’d catch the soft look in his eyes when he thought you weren’t watching, the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he plated your favorite dish.

Late at night, when he returned home from hero work, exhausted and sore, he never had the heart to wake you. As much as he craved your attention, he wouldn’t disturb your peaceful rest. Instead, he’d slip into bed quietly, careful not to jostle the mattress too much as he settled beside you. But once he was there, he couldn’t help himself. His arms would wrap around your sleeping body, pulling you close, your warmth immediately soothing the tension from his muscles. He’d bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, your scent grounding him in a way nothing else could. In those moments, he didn’t need words. Holding you close, feeling the steady rise and fall of your breathing, was all he needed to remind himself why he fought so hard every day.

The first time he brought you to meet his parents, you were nervous. Katsuki had a... "somewhat".. complicated but loving relationship with his parents, and you weren’t sure how they’d react to you.

But Mitsuki was sharp, and observant, so much so that the moment her son introduced you, she noticed immediately how his rough edges softened around you. At the dinner table, she watched as he reached under the table to lace his fingers with yours, his thumb brushing the back of your hand absentmindedly as he ate. It was such a small trivial thing, but it spoke volumes.

Katsuki Bakugou, the explosive, untouchable hero, was calm and collected with you. He was happy, content and overall comfortable. And though Mitsuki would never admit it to his face, she was grateful that he had found someone who could anchor him, someone who made him feel at ease in a way no one else could.

Especially in those rare, quiet moments, when the world slowed down and it was just the two of you, Katsuki became someone else—someone softer, more vulnerable, someone who allowed himself to feel without the need to control or suppress it. He would hold you like you were the most precious thing in his universe, and in those times, you knew that you were.

His arms wrapped around you, his face buried into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you like it was the only thing keeping him tethered. He would stay there for what felt like hours, possibly centuries, just feeling the steady warmth of your body against his as the only reassurance he needed after long days of hero work.

The outside world would fade away, replaced by the quiet rhythm of your breathing, the softness of your skin, the way your hand would find his and squeeze gently as if to say:

I’m here.

It was these moments that Katsuki treasured most, even if he didn’t have the words to express it.

His mind, usually sharp and restless, was quiet now, but beneath that calm exterior, the words he couldn’t say out loud raced through his thoughts like an endless loop.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

It was always there, like a mantra, a constant hum in the background of every interaction with you. It consumed him, the weight of it so overwhelming that sometimes he thought he might lose himself in it. But rather than pull away, he held you tighter, pressed his lips to your neck in featherlight kisses that spoke volumes.

And in those moments of silence, when his mind screamed what his mouth refused to say, he’d finally gather the courage to lean in and kiss you. Not a quick peck or a rushed kiss filled with urgency, but something deeper. His lips moved slowly, gently, as if trying to pour every unsaid word, every hidden feeling, into that one act. His kisses were full of meaning, each one more tender than the last. He kissed you like he was trying to say everything he felt but couldn’t find the words for—how much he adored you, how much he needed you, how you had become the single most important thing in his life. The kisses grew longer, more fervent, and by the time he finally pulled away, breathless and slightly flushed, his heart was racing in his chest.

Katsuki didn’t need to say the words. He didn’t need to tell you how much you meant to him because you already knew. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, the way his hands lingered on your skin, the way he looked at you like you were the center of his world. But even so, there were moments—fleeting and fragile—where his heart threatened to burst with everything he felt for you. Moments where he looked into your eyes and almost said it.

Almost let the words slip past his lips.

But instead, he would settle for pressing his forehead against yours, his breath shaky as he whispered something that came close enough to the truth.

“You’re mine.” His voice was low, rough from sleep and something else, something more vulnerable that he would never let anyone else see. “No one else’s. Just mine.”

There was always an intensity to the way Katsuki touched you. The way he held your hand, the way his fingers traced your skin absentmindedly when you sat together, the way he pressed his body against yours like he couldn’t get close enough—it all spoke of a love that was consuming, all-encompassing, a fire that burned so brightly in his chest that he was terrified of it sometimes. He needed you in a way that was almost primal, a need that went beyond affection and straight into the very core of who he was. You had become his anchor, the one constant in his life of chaos and battle, the only person who could make him feel both calm and alive at the same time.

He wasn’t used to this feeling—this deep, unshakeable need to be close to someone, to rely on them, to love them without fear. But with you, it was different. You grounded him. You made him feel human in a way that nothing else could. And so, he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his lips brushing against your temple in a silent promise. He might not be able to say the words, but he could show you. And every touch, every kiss, every moment spent wrapped up in each other was proof of how deeply he cared for you.

And when he finally pulled back, his eyes would linger on yours, his expression softer than usual, his rough exterior melting away just for you. He would smirk slightly, trying to regain some of his usual bravado, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed him. “Don’t get used to this,” he’d mutter, though you both knew that wasn’t true.

Because no matter how much Katsuki Bakugou pretended to be tough and unyielding, when it came to you, he was anything but. He would always hold you close, always protect you, always make sure you knew how much you meant to him—even if he couldn’t say the words. And maybe, someday, he would. Maybe one day, he’d be able to tell you outright, with no hesitation, that he loved you. That he adored you. That you were his everything. But for now, his actions would speak louder than any words ever could.

For now, it was enough. Enough that he kissed you like he was afraid of losing you, enough that he held you like you were the most precious thing in his life. Enough that, every night, he’d come home from hero work, slide into bed beside you, and wrap his arms around you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

And as long as he held you close, as long as he kissed you with that same unspoken intensity, you knew. You knew that Katsuki Bakugou loved you in a way that was fierce and all-consuming, in a way that words could never fully capture.

And that was more than enough.

Note P2: My forever HC is that Katsuki would be this type of lover and will always be this type of lover ..🍒

[luvgavii]

wet dreams - (pg8)

summary: pedri's special way of waking you up ;)

warning: smut. minors do not interact!!

It wasn't often that you slept in. Whether it was because of uni or because you wanted to make your boyfriend breakfast before he leaves for training, early mornings were a part of your routine.

Today was an exception, you didn't have to go to university until the afternoon, so it was finally the day when it wasn't necessary to put an alarm.

When Pedri stirred, stretching his muscled arms out with a small yawn, his dark brown orbs fluttered open, immediately turning to his side to look at you. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling with every breath you took. Pedri smiled to himself, reaching out to put a strand of hair that was in your face behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, careful not to wake you up.

The moment you laid from your side to your back, the covers slid just enough to reveal your chest, your perky nipples immediately making Pedri's pupils dilate, his mind going to the night before.

He bit down on his lower lip, fighting back the urge to run a hand over your breasts. He wasn't a fan of touching you in such an intimate way without having your consent, no matter how many times you'd told him you wouldn't mind to wake up to his face between your thighs.

You've taken him by surprise when a quiet hum left your slightly parted lips, his chocolate eyes moving from your tits to your face, taking in your messy bed hair. Even in moments like this, when his morning wood physically hurt him, he couldn't help but look at you lovingly, his gaze filled with eternal love.

Pedri smirked, and he stated 'why not?' as he started lowering himself to press wet, open mouthed kisses to your collarbone, moving lower to the valley between your breast.

Your peaceful dream has suddenly taken a turn between dreamland and reality, your mind still half asleep as you tried to figure out if what you were feeling is real or just a dream. Regardless, you hummed, laying on your back more comfortably and nuzzling your head into the pillow, giving him more access to your body. Pedri took this as a sign to continue, he looked up at you, seeing that your eyes were still closed, his tongue darted out to tease your nipple, while his hand took care of the other one.

That sensation alone was enough to convince you of reality, your lips curling into a sleepy smile as Pedri pulled the covers to the side, revealing your bare body to him as he continued to kiss down your body, his tongue tasting your skin ever so lightly as he settled between your thighs, his lips leaving love bites. He finally looked up at you, his hands softly caressing your thighs as you hummed and whimpered, a smirk on his lips as he saw your sleepy-lust filled expression.

"Abre las piernas para mí, muñeca," he instructed and you couldn't help but do so, your thoughts filled with the dirtiest images the human brain could imagine. (spread your legs for me, doll)

Pedri's fingers ran over your inner thighs, his touch light and teasing as he eyed your glistening core, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip in anticipation. One of his hands moved to your hip, holding you down against the soft mattress as his finger ran over your folds, producing a dirty, wet sound that made his blind go blank for a second before regaining composure, his two fingers spreading your pussy in front of him. He enjoyed how desperate you were for him, how you bucked your hips begging for more, and he was going to give you everything you asked for.

His breaths came out in short pants, seeing you leak your juices around his fingers as you clenched around nothing. Pedri smirked up at you, obviously loving how you responded to his touch, he was filled with pride and arrogance, knowing he is the only one that gets to see this side of you.

Ending the cruel teasing, he finally lowered himself to your pussy, his brown eyes locked on yours, his fluffy and messy hair (😔😔) resting on his forehead. He ran his tongue over your folds, collecting your juices with the tip of his tongue as you moaned and arched your back into him. Pedri closed his eyes for a moment, savoring your taste against his tongue as he groaned, the vibration only making your thighs tremble even more.

His tongue moved up to your clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves with practiced skill as his mouth sucked on it. Pulling away slightly, Pedri tore his eyes from you, instead, he looked at your pussy, his finger teasing your entrance, making you whimper with need. He smiled wickedly, his chin and stubble glistening with your juices as he did so, slowly sliding a finger inside of you and groaning at the warm, wet place.

"Estás tan necesitada, nena. Tan preparada para mí, tan mojada," he groaned, his middle finger starting to move in and out of you at a slow, steady pace. (you're so needy, baby. so ready for me, so wet.)

"Más," you managed to breathe out, looking down at him through your eyelashes as he rested between your thighs, watching his middle finger move in and out of you with sloppy sounds that seemed to fade away in the background of your moans.

You gasped and tilted your head back, your eyes closing shut as not only did you feel him add his ring finger, but also felt his tongue and mouth on your clit again, moving more rapidly this time. You moaned, his name rolling off your tongue like honey as his fingers seemed to hit every single one of your sweet spots, curling in that perfect way to push you closer to your orgasm, your sleep long forgotten.

The knot in your stomach tightened, making you clench around his fingers tightly, your hand tangling in his hair and guiding his movements to prevent him from edging you, your moans becoming more loud and desperate as your body spasmed with the intensity of your orgasm. Pedri helped you ride it out, his fingers sliding out of you as they got replaced by his tongue, licking and slurping on your juice like his life depended on it.

As you panted, trying to catch your breath, Pedri lifted himself up, his glistening lips formed into a grin, clearly pleased by how you two started the morning.

"Creo que podría acostumbrarme a mañanas como esta," he said cheekily, kissing your stomach and chest as he towered over you, coming face to face with you, still grinning as his eyes shined with mischief.

You chuckled, wiping his mouth and chin with your palm before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Y creo que podría acostumbrarme a despertarme así," you grinned back with a cheeky giggle. (and i think i could get used to waking up like this) "Round 2?"

[httpsserene]

could i maybe request some super soft holiday smut with George? Like it's the summer brake and they are in their Bad on a Boat and the sun shines on them and they just woak up clinging to each other?

Feel free to change some things if you like, that's just the kinda vibe i would like it to be so just warm and slow and loving you know?

XO

𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐭 | 𝐠𝐫. 𝟔𝟑

summary: a salt-bathed, sun-drenched, yacht trip seduces you into slow and sensual sex underneath the sunbeams.

content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. yacht sex. tender. passionate, slow, and sensual. semi-public sex (middle of the ocean). belgium dsq. intimacy. fingering. vaginal sex. unprotected sex (don’t do that). no dialogue.

pairing: george russell x fem!black!reader

word count: 1.3k words.

from, serene: perfect timing for summer holiday smut (this was requested eight months ago 💀) feel like it might be what the george girlies need after the unfortunate outcome in belgium :( kinda proud of this one, feels like i found my groove again !!! title is from aaliyah's rock the boat enjoy, loves xxx (oh! check out the upcoming chapters link i added! it's my wip list, updated regularly with what's coming next!)

IF YOU HAVEN'T VOTED ON WHAT I SHOULD DO FOR MY 3K CELEBRATION CLICK HERE TO SUBMIT YOUR VOTE !!!

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

The rocking of the yacht is felt minimally. The sound of the waves lapping against the boat accompanies an occasional snuffle from George’s napping form, splayed out comfortably on his front, head resting on your abdomen. 

The British man tired himself out riding on a jet ski, swimming in the depths of the azure sea, and making sure you’re watching all of his ‘cool’ flips off the bow and swim platform of the vessel. You convinced him to eat lunch on an enforced (by you) sunscreen-reapplication break— and while he was waiting for the meal to settle, he snuck his way onto your lounger, nuzzling along your hip, asking you to read your book aloud to him.

You softly narrated the story to George, one hand turning the pages while the other played with his damp hair, your body tensing when cool drops of seawater dripped from his strands onto your stomach, shocking your bronzed skin. The mix of your tender speech, his ocean exhaustion, and the caress of the sun brought sleep to him easily. 

This morning on the water is exactly what he needed to clear his mind. You wouldn’t let the weight of his disqualification in Belgium burden his mind any longer. There’s no better way to process emotion than in the middle of the ocean on a yacht, far away from the obsessive media and pitying Mercedes team. The only person sharing his space is you (and the few staff members below deck). 

The book was set aside not long after he fell asleep, you were keen to rest your eyes and listen to the low tunes filtering through the speakers. Time slips effortlessly and you find yourself awakened by George stirring. The sunbeams have strengthened at noon and you’re aware that your next days will be spent massaging aloe vera into the Brit’s reddened skin. Yet, the flushed burn stretching across George’s tanned back isn’t a pressing issue for him. 

He presses his lips to the skin of your hip, just above the tie of your bikini. You hum, pulling your knees upwards and letting them fall slightly to the sides, leaving George ample room to lay between your legs. You feel the wetness of his tongue appear as he traces along the hemline of your bottoms, teeth scraping the jut of your hipbones occasionally, the slight ache encouraging you to arch into his grasp.

His hands grip tightly at your thighs, the umber flesh spilling between his fingers alluringly. The sight entrances him and his lips drift to love on your inner thighs, teeth threatening to bite into the plush skin. Your quiet moans at the attention harmonize with the calm waves; the bruising kisses have the fabric of your swim bottom darkening with arousal. George releases a hand to tug at the ties of your bikini and pulls the strings loose. The cloth covering your cunt limpens and is tugged away smoothly.

George murmurs lowly, his fingers parting your folds and keeping you open. You’re sure your hole is fluttering at him, the heated skin of your cheeks disguised as a product of the sun and not George’s stare. He spreads your wetness along your vulva leisurely, pausing to flick your clit lightly, humming reassuringly as your hips buck upwards into the pleasurable sensation.

He toys at your entrance with two fingers, watching your cunt try to drag him within. He teases, pushing inside briefly, eyes flickering upwards to watch your mouth part at the gentle stretch before he pulls out to stroke along your folds. George repeats the action until you whimper needily, ceasing his torment to give you his fingers. The awaited full stretch lights up your spine, his digits curling against your walls deliciously. He lifts upwards, intertwining his lips with yours. The brush of lips matches the sensual stroking of his fingers; it’s slow and syrupy, tongues skimming together in a relaxed dance.

He withdraws, dragging his pulsing length from the confines of his swim shorts. He strokes his cock loosely, choking at the slickened friction, lowering to thrust his cock along your cunt, the reddened tip parting your moistened folds. You see George shudder over you, bottom lip bitten by his teeth as he hisses through the stimulation.

You tangle your hand in his sundried locks as he sinks inside of you, breathy moans leaking into the open air. The British man shakes when his hips meet yours, stilling to stifle your shared cries into each other's mouths. The pressure of his cock can’t be forgotten but the ache of fullness combined with the embrace of his lips distracts you from the lack of movement after the initial thrust. You’re not sure how much time passes as you and George become absorbed in the kiss but you’re only brought back to the present when his hips slowly start to roll against yours.

You gasp into his mouth, eyes fluttering open to meet his. They’re hazy, clouded with lust and desperation. You stare, captivated by the sight of his blissed expression, his blushing cheeks, and his ocean-colored irises swallowed by enlarged pupils. The sway of your hips has George melting, the sound of his choked whimpers complementing your breathy babbles. 

His strokes remain deep, tantric, and toe-curling. The surrounding air dampens with the heat and moisture radiating from your activities, thin layers of sweat beading on your skin, and the taste of salt is fresh on your lips. Air is forced from your lungs as George abuses your sweet spot, hands slipping along his back in search of stability. Your chest arches upwards as you struggle to hold a firm grip on his back with the sheen of perspiration coating him. Scrambling, your nails bite into the muscle of his shoulder and lower back forcing a sharp groan from George. His hips stutter at the sting cutting through his freshly sunburnt skin before resuming the mind-numbing drive of his length within you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, the knot in your navel tightening, toes curling as you near your peak. The British man’s thrusts sharpen, pounding directly into your most sensitive areas as he feels your walls flutter and clench around him sporadically, cock throbbing as he pushes you over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over you, the sound rushing through your ears as your eyes roll back with the force of your orgasm. George fucks you through it with shallow thrusts, his moans increasing to such a high volume you can hear it through your clogged ears. He pulls out and fists his swollen tip to completion, shooting streaks of white into his hand and across your flexed abdomen. 

While you lay boneless on the lounge chair, both of your chests heave in unison, breaths slowly calming in the comedown. The British man reaches a shaky hand for the towel he threw aside earlier after drying off, wiping his cooling cum off your complexion and from between his fingers before he picks up your swim bottoms resting on the floor. With quivering fingers, he adjusts his shorts and does up your bikini after a couple of failed attempts at fastening the ties. 

George squeezes to rest beside you on the lounge chair, an arm firmly reaching around to pull you to rest on him, tucking your head underneath his neck. You press light kisses along the column of his throat, the stretch of his collarbones, and the expanse of his pecs, smiling to yourself when you feel him nuzzle into your hair. He shifts for a better angle, his brow tightening as the raw skin of his back is aggravated from scraping against the seat, the tension disappearing slowly as he brushes his lips on your cheek.

You make a mental note to grab the aloe vera to address his sunburn. Until George convinces you to dip in the open ocean to cool off and wash away any lingering remnants, you’ll bask in the afterglow under the balmy shining sun.

© httpsserene 2024

[pascalssbabyy]

Desperate 💦

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: You leave Joel in a uncomfortable situation all day while you’re at work. Hours go by and Joel struggles to keep his craving under control. And once you’re home, Joel can’t seem to give you his full potential.

Warning: 18+ SMUT, no use of Y/N, no age mentioned, mostly Joel’s pov, pet names (from both), Joel is a little sub in this but he’s a little dom too?, F!oral, blowjob, Joel gets blue balls, P in V, unprotected sex (don’t be naughty!), Joel's very horny in this, doggy style, premature ejaculation, creampie, overstimulation, rougher sex near the end, one cheeky ass slap, Joel comes twice (love that), Joel is soft and needy so make sure you’re ready. Also, I write the word cock wayyy to many times in this.

🤍 Okay listen, because I have somethin to say. The thought of Joel being so desperate and finishing early has me actually weak and I had to write about it. It’s such a compliment when this happens! Anywayyy, I hope you all had an amazing New Year!🫶🏼 And please enjoy my first fic of this year 🩵

If you’d like to be added to my Taglist. Please let me know! @harriedandharassed @mumma-moonchild @millercontracting @chyannealaniz 🤍

Joel's week had gone agonisingly slower than usual, but thankfully, his weekend off had finally arrived. The weekend was always the time Joel would cherish the most; not having to wake up in the early hours of the morning to spend twelve-plus hours then cutting, shaping and assembling wood that would soon have him shouting obscene profanity into the air or hands trying not to gouge his eyes out from the tense strain he felt in them. He wouldn’t arrive back home late almost every night, exhausted, worn out and in desperate need of sleep.

Joel didn’t have to deal with any of that on the weekends. He didn’t have to put up with impatient customers or irritating coworkers. Instead, he’d wake up feeling refreshed, cheerful, and eager to spend the days with you.

But for Joel, this day would be different than the others. Your work was currently understaffed, and had asked if you could go in for a full day, and Joel knew instantly, being the people pleaser you were, you wouldn’t turn it down.

You were only going to be gone for a little while, surely what could go wrong?

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Joel's 'issue' had started early in the morning when he abruptly woke up just before your alarm, with his cock immediately begging for attention, needing your attention. Joel knew he should let you sleep, knowing you’d both been up late last night with a similar issue he was currently dealing with, but how could he not? You were facing away from him, hair spread out and resting over your pillow with the cover under your armpit. His lips would eventually wake you with tender kisses and roaming hands would glide across your naked thighs, with his own hips thrusting into you, his hard cock rubbing up against your back and a quiet mumble of a good morning baby now caressing the side of your cheek.

It’s the first time Joel opens his eyes, and he stares immediately at you, watching you with a hooded gaze, his pupils adjusting to the dark surroundings. His eyes observe the way your lashes flutter against your face, your eyelids lazily opening, limbs stretching out, and your face pulling inwards as you alter to the morning sun subtly passing through the spilt in your closed curtains and to Joel's now- wondering mouth and hands.

"Joel…" You hum his name, and he groans at the way it falls weakly from your lips, sounding so soft and warm, his length throbbing inside his confined boxers with how it vibrates onto his skin.

“G’morning baby,” Joel repeats, shuffling himself even closer and wrapping both arms around your waist, caging you in as his head falls into the crevice of your neck, his silky curls tickling the side of your face.

His hard cock lies on your lower back, and your body shivers.

"Joel, honey we can't. I have work today, remember? I'll be late—" you whine, your voice unforgiving, but your body soon reacts to how his hands mark and trace your skin.

"Mmm come on sweetheart. Please. I'll be nice and quick, I promise.” Joel's already pulling the covers off, and you gasp at the crisp breeze that falls onto your bare skin, his fingers sliding your wet panties down your legs, his lips moving lower and lower until his teeth gently bite down on the flesh on your thigh.

He stares at your soaked cunt and spreads your folds open with the tip of his finger, you were always so fucking wet and ready, and Joel unintentionally licks his lips at the sight.

“Jus’… please. Just lemme have a taste, s’all I need."

The next lie leaves his mouth with sheer certainty and confidence. “Only need five minutes baby.”

You look down at him with your eyebrows raised.

And that look has Joel thinking, “shit yeah, okay. Maybe ten, give me ten.” And you chuckle at him, your hands soothing his broad shoulders.

“Alright Joel. You’ve got ten minutes. I can’t keep being late, not this time okay?”

He gives you a reassuring nod, his wet lips moving down as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your hands reaching into his hair from the sudden shock.

“Oh my god—yes Joel,” you pant, fingers pulling tightly on his curls, and Joel groans at the harsh pull, the sound wavering causing your hips to buckle up, pushing his face deeper into you.

He hums into your needy cunt, his eyes dropping shut whilst he pushes his two fingers into your hole, curly them up and hitting your pleasure point.

He licks at your folds and gives your clit a light flick, “You look s’good spread out like this for me baby.”

The air is covered in your blissful moans, the sound of your arousal wetting Joel's fingers and sliding down his knuckles and wrist while he fucks you at a steady pace.

“Fuckin’ dreamt about this pretty pussy.”

Joel loves to build it up slowly, to get you right there at a pace where he knows you’ll beg and beg and beg him to make you come, each curve of his fingers and his tongue teasing you closer to your release.

And fuck can Joel feel it right now. He can see it in your face, those short bursts of air being pulled into your lungs, your back curving off the bed, your thighs and hips shaking, and walls hugging his calloused digits.

“M’that’s it, baby,” he ushers, “I know you can feel it. Go on, let go f’me.”

And you do, so effortlessly too, your pussy releasing that pressure and gushing your arousal all over his mouth and stubble, your cunt twitching and convulsing on his fingers as he keeps up with his rhythm, prolonging your orgasm as he helps you ride out your high.

Joel unlatches his lips from your abused clit and pulls his digits out of your cunt, lifting his body so he’s back on top of you with his mouth dropping down onto yours, his moustache and stubble wet with your release as he deepens the kiss.

“Christ, you taste fuckin’ incredible. Could stay in between your legs all day.” Joel praises, kissing your neck until his lips lick, bite, and nibble at your collarbone.

He bends his arm so it’s flat on the mattress to hold his weight while he inches his other lower and under the waistband of his boxers, “Let me feel your pussy on my cock darlin’.”

You cease Joel’s movements before he goes any further. “Joel…” you moan, “I—baby, we can't. You promised. I have to get up. We'll get back to this when I’m home, okay?”

Joel let’s out a whine in the crevice of your neck. Fuck he doesn't want to stop, but he knows he needs to.

"Come on baby,” he attempts to protest, “I don’t think I can wait. I really need you now.”

Your alarm on your bedside table gives Joel the exact answer.

You pout your lips at him, your eyes pondering into his own, smiling at his neediness. “Don't give me that look, Joel. You can wait. I'II be back home before you know it, and then you can have me however you like."

Joel groans at your words, his eyes drooping down at you. He lifts his body off you so he's back to lying on his side of the bed, arms slumped over his eyes to hide his sexual aggravation.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Joel watches you freshen up and get ready in the bathroom, his body still slumped in the warmth of the covers. You take a quick shower, brush your teeth, make yourself look presentable, and change into your work clothes. Now, you are all set and prepared to leave the house.

With the time that it’s taken you to get yourself up and going, Joel thought his body would’ve relaxed by now, but throughout all of his observing of you, his cock was still hard.

His length was throbbing, and his tip was now leaking in his boxers, and so sensitive to touch when he'd add minimal pressure on it to relieve some of that heavy strain.

A few minutes later you come back into the bedroom, giving him his usual morning coffee and a quick see you soon honey and a kiss goodbye on his lips. But before Joel can muster up another word to keep you here, the bedroom door shuts, leaving him in his train of thought.

His body falls back on the bed in failure, groaning at his knowing regret.

He knew as he lay there he could make himself come, and fuck it would be so easy if he did. The sweet taste of your arousal still lingered on his lips and fingers as he brought them up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and sucking the remains of your taste off them, a painful sigh erupting from his throat.

Your taste makes his hips buckle up involuntarily, bringing back that vivid memory of being back in between your legs again.

As his cock rested heavy in his boxers, Joel still hadn’t touched himself, not even once. And even though he needs to, he decides he’s going to wait. He actually wants to wait. So once you’re back home, he’ll get to show you how much he’s missed you.

But fuck Joel was well aware at how hard it was going to be to ignore that temptation.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

When Joel gathers enough energy, he crawls out of your shared bed and prepares for the day. He starts by making himself some breakfast, pairing it with the now cold coffee you made him. He then takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth, and finishes off by grabbing a fitted top from the drawer and pairing it with jeans.

He tries to find things around the house to fill up the hours until he sees you; he checks his unread emails and has another cup of coffee; he also cleans and finishes the leftover chores.

He struggled to push the feeling to the back of his mind, to avoid the pulsating he felt in his jeans but fuck he couldn’t help it. He still feels it, that craving. It continues to grow and spread all across his body, it starts to cover all aspects of his mind.

Joel’s established that this was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

You had been gone for three hours now, not that Joel was checking his watch every half an hour, and it couldn’t have gone any slower for him. Joel as expected, had eventually run out of chores and jobs to do, so he dropped himself down onto the sofa with a heavy thump.

How was Joel going to last the whole day like this? It’s bad enough that he’s bored, but to top it off his cock is still fully hard. And whenever he looks down, his neediness is clearly evident in the way his jeans are pressurised around his crotch.

Maybe if he messaged you and tells you about his 'current situation', you'd make him feel somewhat better.

So he reaches over and grabs his phone, which rests on the coffee table.

Joel: Darlin’. I’m sorry and I know you’re busy but fuck I’m going mad here. I’m still hard from this morning and you’ve been gone for 3 hours. I need you.

He gazes down at the screen, thumbs shaking and whispering a please fucking answer to himself. You’re going to be occupied with jobs he knows that, he just hopes you’ve got your phone on you to help ease him and his ongoing position.

His heart thumps when he sees those familiar dots appearing on the screen. Thank god.

You: Well hello to you too.

You: What's gotten into you, babe? Haven’t you just had me?

You: Wasn’t tasting me this morning enough for you?

Of course, you push and spur him on. The fact that he's messaging you like this, telling you how much he wants you, how he’s still hard for you and how much his cock needs you, for you to then just tease him about it has him yearning for you even more.

Joel: No it wasn’t enough darlin.

Joel: You’re never enough.

Joel: Need you to sit on my cock baby. I’m so fucking hard just thinking about it. Wanted it so bad this morning.

Joel: I don’t think I can last if you’re not here in the next hour.

Joel: Please, baby. I really can’t wait till you get home.

Before Joel met you, he had never been like this. He never was the type of man to be overcome with a passion for someone or even sex in general. It hadn't even been twelve hours since Joel felt the comforts of your pussy on his cock, and by the way he was acting, you’d think it had been fucking months.

You: Well you'll have to wait babe.

You: I'll be home soon, just hold tight.

You: I know you can do that for me Joel.

He groans at your sternness, his head falling back onto the sofa and throwing his phone to the side.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Four hours till you’d be home.

And all Joel had done was waltz around the house like a madman. Packing the rest of his day with unnecessary jobs or current projects that needed to be finished for next week when he was back at work on Monday.

He eats random contexts from the fridge, he fixes the kitchen tap that started leaking just the other day, he even makes himself a neat whisky with ice, yes it’s that bad, hoping the alcohol with relax the thumping of his heart, the heat flowing through his veins.

He paces around the front room, his body striding from one side to the other. Pull yourself together Joel. Stop fucking thinking about it.

Fuck this he thinks. He can’t take any more of the waiting. He reaches back and pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket, preparing to bombard you with desperate and continuous messages;

Joel: Darlin come home please.

Joel: I can’t take this anymore.

Joel: Thinking about this morning and how you felt on my fingers.

Joel: Fuck baby you tasted so good, licked you off of my fingers when you left.

Joel: Need to feel your pussy around me darlin’. I'll be so good to you, give you whatever you want.

Joel: Gonna fill you up just how you like it.

As Joel began to type his promises to you, his own conscience comes crashing forward, his feet hesitant and stalling to an immediate standstill.

Shit. What would eventually happen when you walked through the door? Could he even give you his full potential when you do? How was he going to fuck you when his cock was so close to coming already?

Joel had been hard for the past five hours now, and he knew indefinitely that the moment his cock is engulfed by your warm and wet walls, he’d without a doubt, come.

This need to have you starts to make his mind dizzy, his vision is clouded and becomes blurry. It causes his knees to buckle under him with each weak step he takes. It causes his body to feel hot, his skin sticking to the material covering his body, his forehead cascaded in a thin sheen of sweat.

He needs to come. No, he has to come if he's planning on fucking you when you get home. And Joel can't wait much longer for you to reply to his texts, so he hits the call button, waiting to hear the sound of your voice.

And just a few seconds later, you answer.

"Hey Joel. Y’called just at the right time. I’m just going on my break.” Your voice comes out a little breathless, it’s mumbled like you’ve been busy with something on the other end.

“How are you honey? Sorry I haven’t texted you in a while."

He wipes his dampened forehead with the back of his hand, his lower limbs squeezing the muscles in his thighs. "Hey, baby.” Joel chokes, coughing out the strain in his voice. “Why don't y’come home on your break?”

He waits for you to say something, but there’s nothing as he prays your following words are yeah okay baby, sure. I'll be there in five.

A silenced chuckle leaves your end of the phone. “You know I can’t do that, Joel. I’ve only just got half an hour, and it takes me twenty to get home. Why? What’s wrong?”

He digs the tip of his fingers into his temples, “Don’t act like this, y’know exactly what’s wrong. Christ sweetheart you're killing me here. I need you to come home, like right now."

He swears he can feel your smile against your phone.

“It’s that bad huh?”

“Yes. Please sweetheart. I’m begging you.”

"Poor Joel. You need me that bad do you? Is your cock still hard since you texted me last?"

Your fucking voice. The way you playfully edge him on. The way the sound travels down and straight to the tip of his cock, his arousal seeping all over his boxers.

It lights up a dangerous spark, his hands pulling at his belt as Joel unbuttons his jeans and lifts his hips up to pull them down his thighs.

This is the first time he’s looked at his cock since he got changed this morning, and fuck he was wet. So wet. Joel wraps his hand around his girth and instantly has to tighten his first around his tip he’s that close to coming, and he wants to make sure you hear all of it.

He bites on his bottom lip, his voice quivering. "Yes…fuck darlin’, I’m still hard. I don't— I don’t think I can wait any longer. Jus’—shit keep talkin’ to me like that.”

Joel’s breath hitches in his throat, the sound of his deprived moans becoming higher and higher in pitch, until it’s cut off with your voice ringing in his ears.

“Are…are you touching yourself, Joel?”

His voice breaks, and the squelching of his hand stoking his cock fills the room, the slick pooling at his head getting wetter and more projecting. “Yes, I-I need—fuck baby’m gonna come."

"Don't you touch yourself Joel. I mean it. Don’t come. You better stop and wait till I get home.”

He can sense you’ve abandoned everything you were doing, putting full attention to the situation in hand. “Be a good boy Joel and wait for me.”

He nods at your demanding words, faltering his movements and it makes his eyes water. Fuck he was so close.

Joel chokes out a shaky yes before the phone call ends, your low and commanding voice echoing in the back of his mind.

Don't touch yourself Joel. I mean it.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

You should have been home twenty minutes ago, and Joel was officially at his wits end, feet banging on the old oak wood flooring and hands in his hair to let out some of his built up frustration. You never had to do any overtime, you’d always arrive home at the same time each shift.

So why weren't you home?

Joel feels like he could pass out he’s that desperate. How he’s lasted the full 8 hours without coming is beyond him.

His ears pick up the sound of a car door shutting, your footsteps following up the driveway, only this time they're much louder; they’re rushed. He knew his words and texts affected you as much as it did him. So when Joel's gets up from the sofa to open the door for you, and when he sees your body standing in the doorway, his heart freezes.

You smile up at him. "Hey Joel. Sorry I’m late the traffic was—” Your words are knocked from your lips when Joel drops his head down and collides his mouth onto yours, a heavy exhale leaving his nostrils.

Joel pulls you inside whilst grabbing the back of your head and slamming the door shut before he pushes you up against it, your back colliding with the wood as he presses his chest into yours.

His cocks hard and thick, digging into your thigh causing you to gasp openly into his mouth.

He needs you to understand. He licks and pours his wants into your mouth in hopes you know that he had listened to you, that he didn’t touch himself after your words, even though he needed to, that he had done what you asked.

That he had been good for you.

Joel’s hovers his lips so there merely just touching yours, his eyes dark and pupils blown, "fuck baby. M’gonna explode if I don’t have you now. Shit—I need to fuck you."

And who would you be to deny him? He had done just what you’d asked of him, and that was clearly evident in the way he was pressing his cock closer to you.

You smooth his jaw with your thumb, and his head falls into the feeling. “You’ve been s’good for me Joel. Not touching yourself. You gonna let me help you? You gonna let me make you come?” You capture his lips with a quick kiss, using both hands to undo his belt, with Joel’s eager hands joining in and helping you undo the buttons, his stare concentrated on your bruised lips.

You swiftly drop to your knees and Joel groans at the sight. "Fuck sweetheart, I won’t last if you—"

"Shush, Joel,” you calmly interrupted him, looking up and hooking your fingers into his belt loops.

“Want your cock inside my mouth first.”

Joel doesn’t know why, but he’s assisting you as you pull his jeans and boxers down in one fleeting move, his thick length bouncing up and now only inches away from your face.

Joel doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard. His tips painfully red and swollen, his shafts decorated with long veins that coated the sides of him, and his pre-comes everywhere. It’s messy, and it makes your mouth water.

“Fuck Joel you’re so wet. I’ve been neglecting you haven’t I. So big and desperate for me aren’t you.”

You grab his hard cock in your hand and bring the tip of his length to your mouth, swirling your tongue along his slit and collecting the pre-come around his head, the salty taste of him pouring all over your tastebuds.

"Fuckkk baby I can’t—" his words are cut off with a sharp intake of breath, your mouth on him instantaneously bringing his orgasm to the surface.

“You can baby,” you praise. “Just hold on for me. Let me do this for you.”

And that’s when you take his length all the way down your throat, alternating between licking the sides of his cock and sucking his tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and hands gripped firmly to his trembling thighs.

"Christ—” Joel grits, “sweetheart m'not gonna last if y’keep that up."

You release his cock from your mouth and look up towards him, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you slowly stoke his length with your hand.

"Why Joel? You gonna come? You gonna come down my throat if I don’t stop?”

You had a filthy mouth when you put your mind to it. Joel musters up a feeble yes, his one hand bracing itself on the door, and the other is in the back of your hair. He needs to come so bad, and he’d want nothing more than to come down your throat, but he wants to be inside you when he does.

His stomach tenses in, and it hits him. One more pull of your fist on his cock he’s going to come in your hand.

"O-okay Darlin’. Fuck now y'gotta stop. Shit I’ve waited too long for this to end now."

You remove his wet cock from your grip, raising back onto your knees with a wobble as Joel discards his jeans into a pile in the hallway.

“Y’gonna fuck me now, Joel? Gonna fuck me hard?” You beckon him to follow you up the stairs, your hand interlocked with his.

Joel’s minds in a twisted state. What the fuck is he going to do? You almost pulled an orgasm out of him just moments prior, and now you expect him to fuck you?

And fuck you hard?

Yep, Joel’s screwed.

⏰⏰⏰⏰⏰

Joel treads behind you, and once your feet make their way into your shared bedroom, you both take turns to remove each other's clothing, well, what's left of Joel's until finally, you’re both naked and bare, pushing Joel onto the cushioned mattress by his chest.

You take a seat on top of him, your pussy resting on his lower belly as your mouth collides with his again. It quickly becomes sloppy and rushed, tongues dancing with one another, whimpering desperately into each other’s mouths.

Joel flips you so you’re resting on your back, his lips following down your naked body as he nibbles and licks at your breast, flicking your taut nipple with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth while his one hand plays with the other.

Joel spreads your legs apart and nestles his body above you, his fingers roaming lower and lower so they glide in between your already-soaked folds.

Maybe if he can make you come first, he won’t feel as bad.

“Please, Joel,” you beg, pulling him back up by his shoulders and kissing his lips.

“Sweetheart, let me—,”

“I thought you needed to be inside me,” you murmur, pulling your body up and around as you rests on all fours, arms bent and back arched, your wet pussy now on full display.

“Wanna feel y’deep Joel. Want you to fuck me like this.”

Well shit.

Joel settles himself behind you, perching his cock at your opening and that minor touch already feels too good, he just fucking prays he can last long enough to feel you come around him first.

“You ready aren’t you darlin’. Y’sure you’re ready for me?” He knows he’s overthinking, but he has to make sure that you enjoy this as much as he’s going to.

“Yes, Joel I’m ready,” you promise. “Just please, fuck me already.”

Joel takes a deep breath in before pushing his hips forward, his cock sliding into your velvety walls with so much ease, every inch of his girth becoming engulfed and squeezed as he glides more of himself into you.

You felt tighter than usual, and Joel knew it was because he hadn’t used his fingers to assist with the stretch he knew his cock would give you. Your pussy chokes him, and he’s surprised he didn’t come right there and then.

Once the hairs above his cock meet your ass cheeks, you instantaneously circle your hips, and Joel's hands are quick to grasp onto the plushness of your waist, abruptly stopping your rhythm.

Fuck don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come.

Joel hisses through his teeth, "f-fuck darlin' jus’. Shit… just—give me a minute."

You whine in protest and the sound makes Joel’s whole body shudder.

If only you could see him right now. If only you could see how he’s already out of breath, how he's looking everywhere apart from you, because he knows if he peers down and sees how well his cock is stuffed inside you, that'll be it.

And it’s the fact that Joel can hardly put in the work. Hands resting on the curve of your waist as his hips directly quaver behind you, he’s barely moving, and that compressed knot in his stomach and the feeling of your walls convulsing around him immediately becomes too much.

He knows your oblivious to how close he is, eyes falling shut, back curved and mouth hung open.

"Fuck Joel…," you moan, "mmm y'feel s'good."

Joel can feel it. His balls begin to tighten, and his cocks way too sensitive; that heat felt boiling in his body, his orgasm rising with each slick glide of your cunt on his length, the pulsing of your walls being too much for him to hold onto.

You're so incased on the pleasure of Joel's cock stretching your cunt open that you don't realise when his hips suddenly stop behind you, his back arching forward, his head falling into the bend of your spine.

He clenches his eyes firmly shut, "okay, m’gonna come”, he warns, blurting out the confession in rambles to apprise you and give you a heads-up before he boils over. "Fuck baby, l can't—" his voice is cut off before pulling your hips back in one deep thrust.

"Holy shit, I'm—" his tone ceased by the long and drooled out moan withdrawing deep within his chest, his cock spurting his hot seed inside your warm walls.

It completely knocks him out, and fuck he’s never had an orgasm this intense before, and the relief it gives him floods all over; his body shakes as his nails dig deep into the flesh of your hips, prolonged and ragged moans floating through the thick air as his teeth bite into your shoulder blade in attempt to keep him quiet.

He repeats your name over and over and over. Like it’s the only word in his vocabulary, like his minds blank and all that hides behind it is you.

You gasp at the mixture of lust filled sensations; the way Joel’s wet skin is glued to your back, his drenched curls scattered across your skin, his cock throbbing and hot as his come paints your insides, his hold indefinitely leaving marks on you, traces of his pained and awaited pleasure.

When Joel’s high subsides and his eyes aren’t clouded with white specks, he lifts his head where it had settled on your back and kisses your shoulder, wrapping both arms under your body, hugging you in a warm embrace.

"Christ sweetheart..." his breaths out, his voice quivering and low, "I couldn't hold it. Shit I've been so fucking hard since you left this morning and I—”

“Joel, honey…” you turn your head towards him, giving his cheek covered in sweat a soft peck.

"—N’you felt so good and tight I just couldn't help myself—”

"Hey,” you gently say. “It's okay Joel.”

Your chest fills with pride with how effortlessly it had taken Joel to fall apart above you. How with only a few minor thrust of his hips had thrown him straight over that edge.

He’s keeps himself nestled inside you, his hand cupping your jaw as he kisses your lips.

“Wanted you to come,” he sighs. “Fuck I should’ve— you always come first.”

Joel’s never been a man to reach his own limit before he’s made you feel good. Wether it be with his mouth, his fingers or his cock, he always has your pleasure in mind before anything else.

“It’s not over yet Joel. You can still make me come.”

And he’s gonna. He eyes holding that determination as the two of you easily sink into that well known pattern, Joel’s tongue exploring the inside of your mouth and swirling your hips around with his strong grip, pulling your ass back onto his still hard cock.

A precious moan leaves your lips when Joel's hand hooks down and under your body, his middle finger circling your clit, causing your pussy to squeeze his cock again.

“Fuck baby,” he murmurs, “this pussy feels so fucking good wrapped around me.”

You need him to move. “Joel. Please,” you whimper.

You start moving your hips on your own this time, orbiting them in small and impatient circles, and Joel simply let’s you, straightening his back and watching how your body moves on its own accord.

Joel's voice comes out more confident, more focused. “Been so mean, haven’t I baby. Putting myself first. Not making my girl come like the good girl she is.”

Joel finally looks down at where you’re both connected, and the sight is filthy. He stares at how easy his cock fills your pussy, your own arousal and his thick, white come covering all of his length and leaking out of your hole and down on the bed cover below.

“Made such a mess baby,” Joel says, his free hand giving you ass a harsh slap, the plushness jiggling from the hit. “Pretty pussy’s already being filled and she still wants more.”

“Oh my—yes Joel,” you sob, “please.”

Joel grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head back as you spine arches into shape.

“Go one baby. Gonna watch you come while you fuck yourself on my cock.”

You use all of your energy to drag yourself backwards onto Joel, using all the weight in your arms to help push you back and forth, his cock hitting that soft and spongy spot inside making you moan and whimper his name over and over.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Yeah? That’s it’s baby. Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“Yes Joel, f-fuck it’s you—,” you cry, the pleasure overcoming your words.

“That’s fucking right. Keep going baby, keep fucking yourself. Y’doing so well.”

You pull your lip in, your teeth biting down on the flesh before you muster up a yes. Yes thank you Joel. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

This might be too much for Joel. He’s never endured or persisted on fucking you once he’d already finished, and it makes his body feel like it’s on fire. His skin scorching hot as your ass cheeks slap repeatedly against his groin, his eyebrows furrowing as his cock becomes sensitive to your pussy.

His finger continues to strum over your bundle of nerves, beckoning you further into your own orgasm.

“Joel—please. I’m gonna come,” you confess, moving your hips backwards and forwards at a now much faster pace.

“Go on darlin’,” Joel grunts, “make yourself come, lemme feel it.”

His words of encouragement are the last push you need, and your high washes and crashes over you in vigorous waves, arms shaking as your top half falls onto the mattress below, your moans being muffled by your pillow.

He thrust his own hips in and out of you, “mmm now that’s a good girl. Fuckin’ hell your pussy’s soaking me baby.”

Your fingers grip hard onto the quilt below, with every curse and whimper spilling so willingly from your mouth, and Joel’s continuous praises assisting you through it.

Joel's eyes can’t move away from the scene unravelling in front of him. His cock starts to feel tight and responsive again, fuck could he come again? Shit, he think he could.

Joel can see that you’re body’s no longer shaking, he watches how your face lifts out of your pillow, how your eyes only just open a smidge, with a look of satisfaction displayed across your features.

But his hips begin to move again, increasing their pace and they get rougher, holding your back down with his palm but keeping your ass in the air, fucking his cock hard inside you, his stomach pulling tight and his jaw locking shut.

“Holy fuck,” Joel howls, hips slamming into yours, “yes fuck, m’gonna come again.”

You gaze up at him and your walls pulsate, “please, Joel. Yes—please come inside me.”

Joel’s orgasm rushes through him for the second time tonight. Something he never fucking expected. And he’s surprised when he feels his cock shoot more of his come inside you, your cunt milking him dry and shaking his head in shock at his own ability.

Joel’s hips eventually come to a stop, his body no longer trembling. He lifts you up so your’e sat on his thighs, chest rising as he attempt to recatch his breath.

“Jesus. Fuckin’. Christ.” Joel breaths. “Shit that…that felt fucking incredible.”

Your arm moves above and you wrap your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck, holding and keeping his body up close.

You hum into his neck, “wasn’t too much for you, was it Joel?” You question, looking all over his features as he gives you a consoling smile.

“No sweetheart, it wasn’t.”

And you smile back at that, bringing his lips down just so they’re ever so slightly touching yours.

“I might have to leave you with a boner more often if that’s the result of it. What d’you think?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, shaking his head in immediate disagreement.

“Absolutely not. Fuck darlin’ I don’t think I can go that long again. You can be late for work next time.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked please show a girl some love and tell me what you thought!🫶🏼🩵

[trashytracktales]

girl reading your logan fic right before my period is doing things to MEEE!! istg I’m desperate. i want to reality shift just to have logan in my bedroom 😔💔

ANYWHO

you could say I’m feeling….freakilicious and i have some smut brainworms…

logan coming back home after a gymsesh all sweaty to find reader sleepy and eventually wake her up w head and body worshipping kisses and praise….and then letting whiny reader cum on his fingers while his hair messily hangs in front of his eyes 🤤🤤🤤 and then sex before just sweet aftercare and a gentle shower 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

(if you’re open to writing things like that)

Early sessions | LS²

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Reading anything remotely spicy before your period is like pouring gasoline on an already raging fire... God’s strongest soldier, I reckon. Hope this helps, and sorry for the late response 😔🤞🏻

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𐙚 summary ──── Early gym sessions only fuel Logan’s energy, and when he returns home to his girlfriend, sweaty and full of adrenaline, things can only go one way — his.

𐙚 pairing ──── Logan Sargeant x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, mild possessive behavior, overstimulation, playful dynamics.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.1k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 9, 2025

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LOGAN’S MORNING WAS quiet so far.

Now, coming back home from training, the sun is just beginning to rise, casting warm streaks of amber light across the polished floors. He always liked the early sessions, when the world was still asleep, and he was the only one sweating at the gym.

His shirt clings to him, soaked with the result of his efforts, and his hair is damp, curling slightly at the ends from sweat. Dropping his keys onto the counter with a soft clink, he toes off his sneakers and heads straight for the bedroom.

Inside, she is still curled up beneath the sheets, her soft breaths barely audible in the stillness. She’s cocooned in the blanket, one bare shoulder peeking out, the gentle rise and fall of her chest confirming she’s lost in her dreams. Logan leans against the doorway for a moment, his chest tightening with a quiet kind of affection; this is his favorite sight.

Logan’s steps are careful as he approaches, the slight creak of the floorboard causing her to stir just a little. He pulls off his damp shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket, running a hand through his messy hair. Cold sweat still clings to his skin, his muscles taut, but he doesn’t care. All he can focus on is her, the way the shy golden light of the morning caresses her skin.

He knows he should go shower, but a tiny thought crosses his mind before he can do anything about it.

Kneeling at the edge of the bed, Logan leans over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She doesn’t stir, her lips parting slightly. He smiles, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to her temple, then to her cheek, and finally to the corner of her mouth. The kisses are tender, each one awakening the fire inside him.

Her breathing shifts, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips as she begins to stir. “Lo? You leaving already?” she asks, her voice laced with confusion and sleep.

In response, his lips trail down her neck, placing gentle, lingering kisses on her collarbone, then lower. The blanket slips down as his hands work to uncover her, his fingers skimming over her bare skin, reverent and calculated.

“No, baby,” he murmurs against her skin, his lips brushing over the curve of her breast. “I just got back.”

“Mhm,” she hums, extending her arms to pull him closer to her, embracing him tightly. “Come here, then, stinky boy.”

He chuckles as he gets up to head toward the bathroom, her teasing voice still ringing in his ears.

“Stinky boy is going to shower first,” says Logan.

But before he can take another step, her hand wraps around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He glances back at her, eyebrows raised, but she just tugs him gently toward the bed, her lips curving into a playful smile.

“Did I say I mind?” she asks, her tone soft but laced with intent.

Logan blinks in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face as she pulls him down onto the bed. “Oh? Guess not,” he rasps, his voice dropping as he leans in closer.

His large, calloused hands start caressing her sides, mapping every curve with devotion as he leans back in to kiss her neck.

“How was, uh, training?” she whines softly, a hint of need lacing her tone.

Logan hums, the sound low and warm, vibrating against her skin. “Missed you,” he confesses, his voice a little more ragged now. “I skipped cardio so I can come back faster.”

“Oh no,” she replies in a bad, dramatic voice, pulling back to look at him, “You should never skip cardio. What kind of example are you setting?”

Logan laughs, his voice playful. “Think you could help me make up for it?”

Her mock outrage melts into a knowing smile, her fingers threading through his hair. She nods slowly, her voice turning softer. “Of course... but only because I’m so generous.”

Her eyes meet Logan’s gaze as he looks down at her, his hair hanging in messy strands over his forehead. For a moment, they just look at each other, her body pliant beneath his touch as his hands skim lower.

“There goes my generous girl,” he praises gently, his voice melting into her as his fingers slide between her legs, parting her folds. He groans softly at the wetness that meets him, the ultimate proof of how much she wants him even in her half-asleep state. “Let’s see just how much.”

“Lo…gan,” her voice breaks as his thumb finds her clit, circling tenderly, sending sparks shooting through her body.

“Yeah? That good, baby?” he soothes, pressing a kiss to her hip.

As a response, her thighs part easily for him, as if her body knows this rhythm instinctively. She’s already so wet it’s obscene, his fingers sliding through her slick folds with almost no resistance. It’s as if he hadn’t fucked her senseless the night before, leaving her trembling and spent in their bed.

“Look at you,” Logan whispers, his breath warm against her skin. His middle finger slips inside her effortlessly, drawing a low, broken moan from her lips. He works her open by patiently curling his finger in just the right way that has her hips rocking up into him.

“More…” she whines, her voice a desperate plea, her nails digging into his damp shoulder. His natural scent is immediately invading her senses, driving her insane.

“More,” he parrots, adding another finger, the stretch making her moan a little louder. “Obsessed with those sounds, baby. But it’s not what you want, is it?”

The wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her mix with the soft cries spilling from her mouth. She clenches tightly around him, her walls fluttering as his thumb grazes her clit in a teasing circle. Her hips grind against his hand, her movements wild and needy, chasing every ounce of pleasure he’s giving her.

“Please, Logan,” she cries, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as his tongue replaces his thumb, lapping hungrily at her swollen clit.

Her cries only spur him on, the way she tightens her thighs around his head and tugs at his hair sending jolts of heat straight to his cock. He’s already rock hard, his cock straining against his gym shorts as the thought of fucking her warm, wet, and open body consumes him.

“Fuck, you always taste so good,” Logan mumbles against her, the vibrations of his voice making her thighs tremble. “I can’t get enough of you,” he continues, burying his face deeper into her, his fingers moving in tandem with his tongue, driving her higher and higher.

“Oh my—Logan,” she moans, her voice breaking as her walls begin to tighten more rapidly around his fingers. The tension in her body coils tight, her thighs trembling and her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps.

“Yes, baby. That’s it,” he praises, his words muffled against her. “Let me feel you.”

Her release crashes over her, her entire body shaking as her cries fill the room. Her walls squeeze his fingers in a vice-like grip, dripping onto his hand and his chin as she shatters beneath him.

He slows his movements gradually, his tongue and fingers easing her through the aftershocks. When she finally comes back to herself, he pulls back slightly, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His blue eyes lock on hers as he licks his fingers clean, dragging his tongue from base to tip, savoring every drop of her.

“Wanna taste?” asks Logan, offering his fingers.

Her cheeks flush, but she leans forward, wrapping her lips around their slickness. Her tongue swirls around as she cleans them thoroughly, her eyes never leaving his. The intimacy of the moment sends a bolt of heat straight through both of them, their breaths deep and alert.

Logan leans in, capturing her lips in a messy, desperate kiss at the sight of her. Their tongues meet, tasting her on each other, hot and needy, their movements unrestrained, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip as she moans into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Logan sits back on his knees, freeing his cock from his shorts; it’s hard and aching, the tip leaking as he strokes himself briefly before lining up with her dripping entrance.

“Still feeling generous?” he asks against her lips, teasing her with shallow thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against her clit before slipping just barely inside.

“Yes… yes, very,” she replies impatiently.

Logan whimpers against her lips, the sound deep and guttural as he presses the head of his cock against her soaked entrance. With one deliberate thrust, he pushes inside, her walls stretching to welcome his length. He breathes heavily at the slick, wet heat of her, his body trembling with restraint as her sensitive pussy clenches around him from the lingering aftershocks of her first orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his voice wrecked, as he drags himself out slowly, only to push back in, deeper this time. Her tightness grips him perfectly, and every thrust drags along her walls, making her whimper beneath him.

“So full, baby,” she gasps, her voice breathy. Her hands fly to his back, her nails raking across his skin as she clings to him, her body arching to meet every thrust. “Can you, mhm—harder.”

Something snaps inside him at her request. His fingers dig into her hips, lifting her slightly as he starts to move harder, his hips snapping into hers with a force that has her moaning loudly, the sound unabashed and desperate.

“Good enough?” he growls, his tone rough as he watches her fall apart beneath him.

“So good, baby. Don’t stop,” she cries, her nails digging deeper into his skin.

Without warning, Logan flips her onto her stomach, his strength effortless as he pulls her hips up. The shift leaves her breathless, her knees barely holding her up as he guides her into position. He presses a firm palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her chest down into the pillows while angling her hips higher.

“Logan!” she cries in protest. “Don’t—”

“I take care of you, yeah?” Logan cuts her off. “Stay just like that,” he orders, his voice dripping with dominance, and she shivers at the command.

The first thrust from behind has her crying out, her body jolting forward from the force. He grips her waist tightly, pulling her back to meet his thrusts as he sets a punishing pace. The sound of their bodies colliding fills the room, wet and filthy, almost drowned out by her moans and his deep grunts.

“You feel so good,” Logan groans, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her hips, leaving bruises he knows she’ll find later. “So fucking good, baby. You were made for me, it’s maddening.”

Each thrust drives him deeper, his cock hitting spots inside her that have her wailing into the pillows. She can feel him everywhere — thick, hard, and raw as he claims her. The pressure builds again, her entire body tightening as her second orgasm crashes into her without warning.

“Fuck, yes,” she encourages, her walls clamping down around his length as her release soaks them both. “Logan, I—”

“Shit, baby... fuck. You’re dripping all over,” Logan growls, his eyes glued to the way her pussy clenches and pulses around his cock. The sight alone nearly undoes him, his lips parting as if in reverence for the obscene display before him.

He leans over her, his chest pressed to her back as his hand slips beneath her to circle her clit. “My girl,” he whispers into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Best I’ve ever fucking had. I could stay inside you forever.”

Her body trembles under him, her moans turning into sobs of pleasure as he thrusts faster, his rhythm growing erratic. His fingers on her clit send her spiraling into overstimulation, her entire body shaking as her release gushes over him again.

“Wait. Lo, I’m—” she whimpers, her voice broken.

“It’s okay, baby. Take it all,” he growls, his hips slamming into her one last time as he spills deep inside her, his cock throbbing with his release. “Every fucking drop, beautiful.”

He stills, his body trembling as he collapses against her for a moment, their breathing heavy and uneven. When he pulls out, her pussy clenches one last time, and she comes again, her body betraying her exhaustion.

“Shit,” Logan swears, his voice thick with awe. He flips her over to face him, brushing damp hair from her face as she lies there trembling. “You’re so sensitive in the morning,” he realizes, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before slipping his fingers back inside her, collecting the mess they’ve made together. His touch is slow, tender, as if soothing her oversensitive body.

“Lo…” she whispers, her voice shaky as he leans down to kiss her again, this time soft and unhurried. His tongue slides against hers, their kisses messy and intimate as his fingers continue their slow worship.

“All mine, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she agrees, meeting his gaze as his words settle over her.

Logan’s chest swells, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he leans down, trailing his lips lower. He kisses along her jawline, down the delicate curve of her neck, and then stops to worship the swell of her breast. His tongue flicks out to trace one of her nipples, drawing a gasp from her as he sucks it gently into his mouth.

“You’re so perfect for me,” he murmurs between warm, wet kisses, his free hand coming up to squeeze her other breast. His thumb brushes over the sensitive peak, sending shivers down her spine. “Letting me fuck you out of your dreams.”

She arches into his touch, her fingers weaving into his hair as he lavishes her with affection. “I’ll always let you fuck me,” she replies, her voice breathy and sincere.

Her words ignite something primal in him, and he groans softly against her skin before lifting his head to capture her lips once more. The kiss is heated but tender, filled with unspoken promises. His tongue slides against hers, coaxing her into a rhythm that leaves them both breathless.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, breathing wetly above her.

She nods against him, her cheek pressed to the warmth of his skin. “More than okay.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head to look at her face. “You sure?” he presses gently, his thumb brushing over her shoulder.

She lifts her head to meet his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “I promise. I… had a dream about you,” she admits, her voice shy.

His brows lift slightly, intrigue sparking in his eyes. “Hm? Care to elaborate?”

She lets out a soft laugh, her nose brushing against his collarbone as she burrows closer. “Not really. Just you. You were touching me, whispering all those things you say to me, and it felt so real. When I woke up and you were actually there, I guess my body just… responded.”

Logan whimpers quietly, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “You’re making me jealous of Dream Logan,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She laughs again, her breath warm against his skin. “You should be. He was pretty amazing.”

Logan chuckles, his hand slipping lower to rest on the curve of her hip. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to outdo him,” he teases, his voice warm with affection.

Her laughter fades into a soft hum, and after a beat of silence, she lifts her head to look at him. “Maybe try that in the shower?”

Without giving her an answer, he scoops her up, making her squeal in surprise.

“Logan, I was joking! Put me down!” she protests, though she’s laughing.

He carries her straight into the bathroom, turning on the shower before stepping in with her still in his arms. The blast of cold water makes her yelp, squirming in his grasp. “It’s fucking freezing!” she squeaks, trying to shove him under the spray instead.

He holds her firm, grinning through her protests. “But it’s good for you.”

The water gradually warms, and she relaxes, a sigh escaping her lips as the heat soothes her skin. Logan sets her down gently, grabbing the soap with a soft smile. “Come on, turn around for me,” he speaks in a lower voice, the playfulness giving way to tenderness.

He starts at her neck, his soapy hands gliding over her skin with deliberate care. “Beautiful,” he whispers more to himself than to her. His hands move lower, massaging her shoulders before cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her peaks. She shivers under his touch, but he doesn’t linger, kneeling in front of her.

He continues, carefully washing between her legs, his touch gentle but thorough, his lips trailing kisses along her thighs as he does.

She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing at his reverence. “Lo,” she warns, her voice unsteady.

He looks up, his eyes smoldering. “Just making sure my girl is clean,” he teases before placing one last kiss on the inside of her thigh.

When it’s her turn, she takes her time, tracing her soapy hands over his chest and abs, her fingers lingering on the ridges of his muscles. “Good session,” she teases, grinning as she slides her hands down his back.

“My favorite workout,” he quips, his smirk returning.

“Wake me up tomorrow. Take me with you,” she suggests, circling around him on her tiptoes, her hands ghosting over his hips.

“No,” he replies shortly.

She stops, confused, “No?”

He shakes his head, “They have cameras everywhere. It’ll be pure torture.”

“I promise I’ll behave,” she teases further, her voice steady.

Logan turns quickly, pinning her gently against the cool tile wall, his lips capturing hers in a heated kiss. The steam from the shower surrounds them, but it’s the heat between their bodies that consumes her. She feels him hard against her stomach, his need pressing into her.

“It’s not you I worry about.”

She pulls back just enough to palm him, her fingers wrapping around his length with a teasing squeeze. Logan hisses sharply, his head dropping against her shoulder.

“Turned from stinky boy into horny boy real quick,” she says with a grin, her hand beginning a slow, deliberate rhythm.

His breath catches, and he looks down at her hand before meeting her gaze, his eyes dark with pleasure. “I take that back. It’s you I worry about the most,” he groans, his voice rough, but the way his lips curl into a satisfied smile tells her he doesn’t mind at all.

PREVIOUS LS² ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[gs29]

A Lovely Morning

Squid Game Master list

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the soft curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the room. The early morning air, still cool with the remnants of the night’s rain, smelled fresh and clean, as if the world had just been given a new start. It was the kind of morning that made everything feel right, quiet, and peaceful.

Gong Yoo lay beside you, his long body tucked under the blankets, his dark hair mussed from sleep. He had a way of waking up slowly, as though he was savoring the moment. His breath was steady, and the rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheets provided a comforting rhythm that made the morning feel like it was unfolding just for the two of you.

You were still half-asleep, your head resting on the soft pillow, your hand gently holding the edge of the blanket. The warmth of his body next to you, the quiet stillness of the room, and the familiar feeling of his presence made it feel like time was standing still. You didn’t want to break it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You reached out, gently running your fingers over the back of his hand. The soft brush of your fingertips against his skin made him stir.

Gong Yoo’s eyelids fluttered open, and when he saw you looking at him, a soft smile stretched across his face, the kind of smile that could melt any lingering traces of sleep. “Good morning, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, yet so warm and comforting.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice still a little groggy from just waking up. You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was a lullaby that calmed your mind, grounding you in the present.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer as if to say he never wanted to leave this moment either. His hand lightly stroked your back, the tender touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, your voice a whisper as you traced small circles on the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

Gong Yoo hummed in contentment, his hand gently caressing your hair. “Better now that you’re awake,” he replied, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. “It’s strange, but I always sleep the best when I’m next to you.”

A light laugh escaped you, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest. "You're a charmer," you teased, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw, still feeling the remnants of sleep there.

He smiled, a lazy grin that softened the features of his face. “Well, I do try,” he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. “But seriously, every morning with you is perfect.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling your heart flutter a little. There was a simplicity to mornings like this, when the world outside hadn’t quite woken up, and it was just the two of you in this cozy little bubble. There were no worries, no rush, just the quiet intimacy of being together.

The silence stretched between you for a moment, peaceful and warm, until you yawned, stretching your arms above your head. “How about we make breakfast?” you suggested, your voice still soft, but carrying the hint of the day ahead. “I’m craving something warm.”

“Mmm, breakfast sounds perfect,” Gong Yoo replied, his eyes narrowing in a playful manner. “Pancakes?”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “Pancakes? You just know how to make the best ones, don’t you?”

His grin widened, and he lifted an eyebrow in mock arrogance. “I do pride myself on my pancake skills,” he said, the light teasing tone never leaving his voice. “But you’re going to help me, right? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

You chuckled, sitting up and stretching your arms. “Fine, but I’m only agreeing to help if I can eat as much of the batter as I want.”

“Deal.” He smiled, leaning forward to kiss you on the forehead. It was a sweet, soft kiss that made you feel all warm inside. “You go grab the ingredients, and I’ll get the pan ready. Sound good?”

You nodded, sliding out of bed and heading toward the kitchen, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet making the morning feel even more cozy. Gong Yoo followed you into the kitchen, his tall frame looming just behind you as you rummaged through the cabinets, gathering flour, eggs, milk, and a few extra ingredients for your special pancakes.

“What about chocolate chips?” he suggested, peeking over your shoulder as he found the bag of chocolate chips in the pantry. “You know how much we both love those.”

You grinned, taking the bag from his hand and tossing a few extra handfuls into the bowl. “Why not? Let’s make them extra special today.”

Together, you worked in sync, measuring and mixing, your soft conversation flowing in between moments of silence. Gong Yoo was never in a rush in the mornings—he enjoyed every little moment. His hand brushed against yours as he passed you a spatula, his touch warm and familiar. You laughed when a bit of pancake batter splashed onto his shirt, and in turn, he tickled you when you weren’t paying attention, making you squeal and squirm away from him.

"You’re lucky you're cute," you said, wiping the batter off his shirt with a rag, even though he clearly didn’t mind.

“I think you’re the lucky one,” he said, his voice low, teasing, but there was a sincerity in it that made your heart skip a beat. “I get to wake up with you every day.”

A small blush crept across your face, and you felt your chest tighten in that familiar way when he spoke from the heart. It wasn’t just the grand moments, but these little exchanges that made you fall deeper in love with him every single day.

Finally, the pancakes were ready—fluffy, golden brown, and topped with a generous sprinkle of chocolate chips. You set the table while Gong Yoo drizzled syrup on top, his careful movements showing how much he cherished these small moments.

Sitting down across from him, you both dug in, the sweet taste of pancakes filling your mouth. For a while, there was only the sound of forks clinking against plates, a soft background hum of the world outside, and the occasional hum of contentment from both of you.

“This is perfect,” you said, glancing up from your plate to meet his eyes. “I don’t think I could ask for a better morning.”

Gong Yoo smiled, his eyes soft as he reached across the table and took your hand. “I agree,” he said. “As long as it’s with you, every morning will be perfect.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling that familiar rush of love for the man who made even the simplest moments feel special. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home, you knew that this was what happiness looked like—shared mornings, shared laughter, shared love. Simple, yet perfect in its own way.

And as the morning light continued to fill the room, you both sat there, savoring the peace that only came from knowing you were right where you were meant to be. Together.