#<< And done- I'm never answering anything again->>

[viktateapot]

Ok so imagine this. You're having sexy time with one of the bat-boys when their supposed to be on patrol but they don't realize their com is on👀 perhaps a headcanon with all 4 boys (including bruce)

AWKWARD PATROLLING (Batboys)

Dick Grayson:

Tonight was his turn to patrol Blüdhaven. But as luck would have it, you were sick, and all he wanted to do was stay with you and take care of you. He eventually worked out a deal with Barbara to monitor the city from afar while he stayed home with you.

You were dozing off when you heard him come in. Dick quietly approached the bed, his face full of concern. He touched your forehead, checking your temperature.

You opened your eyes to meet his warm smile. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "A little better," you croaked, "But still weak."

He kissed your forehead. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." You smiled. You knew he would always be there when you were under the weather.

He brought you some water, medicine, and a few comics, knowing it would lift your spirits. "Well, I'm going to head back out in the city if you need anything, you know where I am," he said.

You nodded, and he kissed you. The kiss lasted longer than it should. "Use that to get better" he said, eyeing you lustfully.

You looked at him, reached up, and kissed him again. His fingers ran over your hips as if they were trying to find something he couldn't. It wasn't long before things escalated into a steamy session.

Meanwhile, back in the Batcave, Barbara was at the control panel, monitoring Blüdhaven and Gotham. Normally Dick always reported when he was done with an area so Barbara could focus on another, but it was unusually quiet tonight.

"Nightwing, report?" she said into the comm, but no one answered. She repeated herself. This time, sound emerged on the other end. The sounds of moaning.

"What the hell?" she muttered to herself. Dick would never skip patrol. Then it dawned on her that Dick was with you tonight, and her eyes widened. "No way..."

"Nightwing, what's going on? We need a report." Batman said from his comm.

"I think Dick has a little... distraction, sir." Barbara replied, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Distraction? What kind of?" Batman replied

Barbara panicked. "Let's just say he needs to change the frequency."

Meanwhile, you and Dick were completely engrossed in each other. "Oh, Dick," you said.

"Report what is happening", growled Batman

"Batman, maybe I should go talk to them in person" Red Hood butted in while smirking.

There was silence

"Cut off communication". ordered Batman

Jason Todd:

Jason was the one patrolling Gotham tonight. You were working in your workshop, engrossed in a creative project when you heard someone tapping on the window. You frowned, wondering who it could be.

Opening the window, you saw Jason, clad in his Red Hood gear. "Jason! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on patrol." you asked.

"Needed to check on something," he growled in response, climbing over the sill into your workshop. "Haven't seen you all day."

You smirked. "I knew you missed me," you teased. Jason rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't getting into any trouble."

"Well, thanks for caring, Dad," you joked. Jason twitched.

He ran his hands through his hair, and then headed straight for you.

Minutes later, you were both engaged.

"Oh geez, are you serious?" - Tim's voice was heard from the speakers in the Batcave. - "I thought you were serious about patrolling."

"Tim, shut up," Jason snapped.

"It is not very professional, Red Hood," said Dick, giggling.

"Aren't you supposed to look after Blüdhaven?" replied Jason

"Finished. So, yes, I am watching" - replied Dick.

"You both need to shut up," Batman grumbled. "I am turning off the line."

Tim Drake:

Tim was supposed to be patrolling downtown Gotham, and you knew it was unnerving him that he couldn't go with you to the science symposium you were attending. You assured him you would be safe, but he didn't seem to listen.

You were presenting your paper in front of some of the brightest minds in the field, you should have been focused on your work, but you couldn't help but worry about your boyfriend. Tim tends to overwork himself, and you knew he wouldn't sleep until he was sure you were safe.

The presentation went well, and you were getting ready to go home when suddenly Robin appeared.

"Tim, what are you doing here?" you asked, surprised.

"I decided it would be quicker if I got you out of here than I looked for you on cameras," he replied, crossing his arms. "There are many different types looking at you here."

"I don't think it is a big deal," you chuckled.

"Even now you can't help but be distracted," he murmured, before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest dark alley.

"Tim, what are you doing? The visitors might notice us." - you whispered.

"I don't care about the visitors. I want to kiss you right now." - he replied, before bringing his lips to yours.

In the bat-cave

"It's official, they are not doing much work today." - commented Red Hood.

"And that says the guy who barely managed to work today." replied Nightwing.

"Children, stop." said Batman. "Was Tim tracking something on the radar before you two started whispering?"

Silence

"Ummmm.... it seems that it was a false alarm" - replied Damian. "But I would be happy to hear you be embarrassed", he added

"Damian!" - shouted Tim from the speaker.

"I'm shutting down." - said Batman.

Damian Wayne:

Damian was supposed to be on patrol with Batman that evening, which annoyed him since he wanted to see you. You lived together in Wayne Tower, and he wanted to cuddle with you for the night.

"This is ridiculous, I should be out patrolling with you, and not doing important things".

"Damian, stop whining, it's just for one night." - replied Batman.

"I only canceled our plans for one night. If I knew it was going to be this painful, I wouldn't have canceled anything. It seems like you don't even care" - said Damian

"Damian you know I don't mean that" - said Batman. "Just try to keep things going smoothly, ok?"

Closer to midnight, Damian told Batman he was going to go check on the north side of Bristol to investigate some incident, while he actually just headed back to your apartment. You were in the living room watching TV when you heard a tap at the window.

"Damian? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Father?"

Damian looked at you gloomily. "That man is annoying me. I'd rather be with you."

The kisses escalated into something more

"Wait, Damian... it seems like Batman is trying to contact us," you said, pulling your clothing.

"Why would he call if we are in the same area?" Damian paused, then panicked, "He's watching us... He knows!!!"

This time, you and Damian both heard a loud sigh on the communicator. "Since you're patrolling so well, I think it's fair to add another 5 hours to your shift."

Damian groaned, and you gasped, stifling a laugh.

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce rarely found time for romance, but when he did, he did it his way, and tonight he was intent on ditching the night shift to spend some time with you.

Since Batman needed a pair of eyes and ears, Alfred was helping to monitor the city, listening to everything happening on the comm channel.

Bruce finally snuck into the living room. He grabbed you and hugged you. "I couldn't wait to see you," he whispered.

You laughed and said: "I'm sure Gotham is doing great without you."

"I don't care, I'm here with you now," he replied, and at that moment everything faded away.

"Sir? What's happening with the comms," Alfred asked worriedly

There was no answer

"Sir," he repeated

The silence continued before a muffled voice reached them. Then a quiet moan

Alfred raised an eyebrow. This should not be happening on this line of communication.

"I think Batman is a little busy, Alfred" interrupted Barbara

"What the hell is going on?" Alfred asked, surprised. "I need to switch to another line."

Alfred cut the connection, but he was still curious as to what was happening. However, he knew it wasn't his place to interfere. Bruce hadn't had much time to enjoy himself lately.

Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian entered the control room to check what had happened that Alfred disconnected from the comm.

"What happened?" asked Dick.

"It seems Batman is busy," Alfred replied.

"Busy with what?" Jason asked.

Alfred rolled his eyes and began to turn them away from the monitors. "He's just busy. He needs to change the frequency. And so do you all.”

Dick frowned. “Strange…”

Jason smirked. "The old man can still light the fire."

Tim grinned. "I think we now know why he wouldn't let us date," Damian quipped.

[unsociableraccoon]

Omfg raccoon how can you do that to me? And with my favorite boy? Fuck you MacTavish, you stupid fucking dog. Though… could we get a part two? Maybe horrible angst from lame ass loser MacTavish’s POV with the heavy angst now that Reader is dead? Bonus angst from Price, that asshat. Or maybe part two where somehow Reader is alive and MacTavish comes to his senses but Reader is like fuck you or maybe Reader gives him another chance. I’m sorry I’m still a sucker for happy endings!

I’m sorry you had a rough day at work. It’s the weekend, so hopefully you don’t have to work! Pamper yourself!

I'm sorry! 😭 I mean, the man's too handsome for his own good and definitely has commitment issues, so I figured he’d be the perfect character for this little angsty blurb. haha Your wish is my command! Grab your tissues and meet me on the other side, cause part two broke me, lol. Also, just a heads-up: a few things might be a little off-canon?! But hear me out!

And yes! 🖤 I decided to take the weekend to myself, wrote a lot, ate a few treats, and am feeling better. You're the sweetest, thank you!

Wicked Game

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Part 1 | Part 2

He was maybe seven or eight the first time he remembers his hands being stained red.

The MacTavish family is a big one. The type that's full of noise, laughter, and chaos. During his childhood, Soap’s mother was always in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals, flour on her cheeks as delicious scents filled their crammed home. Little Johnny would beg to help, eager to be part of whatever magic she was up to. But most of the time, she'd ruffle his hair or kiss his forehead, and send him to look after one of his sisters or play.

“Go on now,” she'd shoo him, “I'll call ye when dinner's ready.”

It was easier, faster, and cleaner to do things on her own. But sometimes, when she was feeling happy enough, rested enough, with not a rush in the world, she’d let him stay. 

On those rare days, the small kitchen became their sanctuary. 

That's when he'd find himself peeling beetroots, juice staining his hands a deep, vivid red. His momma’s laugh would echo through the kitchen, the radio playing some old tune to make them company.

Now, Soap’s hands are red far more often. Redder than he ever thought they could be.

But not from beets. From blood.

His own. His enemies’.

And, sometimes, the blood of those very few he dares to love.

・・・・・

It's my fault. She's gone. It's all my fault. She's gone because of me.

“C’mon, love,” he yells, voice cracking.

His hands press down hard on your chest, fast and relentless, as he counts each push methodically.

“Soap.” Ghost’s hand grips his friend’s shoulder, squeezing it to bring him back to reality.

He knows the drill. He’s done this before. Hold someone down, trying to pump life into a body that doesn’t answer. Simon knows it all too well.

“Eight, nine, ten…”

Soap doesn’t stop. He can’t stop.

That's why Ghost grabs him harder this time and hauls him back, nearly slamming the Scotsman to the ground. 

“Snap out of it, Johnny.” Ghost’s words are rough. They need to be.

“She's gone, LT...” he says more to himself than anything.

Suddenly, he’s a child again. Not Soap. Johnny. Just a boy. Fragile, vulnerable. Voice choked, tears blurring his vision. 

“We ‘ave to move.”

“We can't leave her like this,” he sobs. Instinctively, his fingers curl around your wrist. 

“We'll come back,” Ghost says, one hand already wrapping around Soap’s arm, “I promise.”

Johnny leans down, cups your face, and kisses you softly, like he's afraid to hurt you. But your lips don't move. Your skin is cold. And when you don't kiss him back, a broken sob rips through his throat. Because he knows it’s final. You’re gone.

The lieutenant helps him to his feet, even though there's nothing physically wrong with him. Yet, Johnny is broken.

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, your blood leaving its mark there too. 

When his legs won't move, Ghost shoves him from behind, pushing him forward. It seems rough, but Soap would do the same for Simon. Take the reins and show the right direction when he is lost.

Mind numb, Johnny clings to the only thing he has left: the promise that he will come back for you.

・・・・・

The mortician did a great job. 

You don’t look dead. Cheeks pink as if blood is still running through your veins. Lips tinted a delicate red. It’s uncanny. How alive you look lying there in stillness. Like you could open your eyes any second and whisper his name.

Your hair is wrong, though. You never wore it like that. But how would they know?

They wouldn’t know that you hated having it behind your ears. And they wouldn’t know you always parted it slightly off-center to balance your left eyebrow, which never quite grew in as thick as the right one.

Of course, they wouldn’t. But Johnny knows. 

He knows every detail. The things you told him and the things you didn't think anyone noticed. He knows your body like it is his own. Every curve, every scar.

The funeral is small, just a few people. Not enough. You deserved better. Better than this. Better than him. Worthless. Coward. Failure. His mom would be ashamed of him. 

“Treat’em, right, Johnny,” she always said. “A woman’s heart is a precious thing.”

Now, your heart is still. Lifeless.

Your hands are crossed over your stomach, like you’re just resting, but he can’t unsee the metal beam. It’s not there anymore, obviously, but in his mind, it's still piercing through your chest.

He looks down, and his hands are red. Not from beets. And there's nothing he can do to wash it off.

・・・・・

Amber hears about what happened. The intel was wrong. There was a bomb. Civilians were killed. One of the 141 medics was KIA. 

You just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens, comes with the job. Even rookies like her know that.

She's relieved when she sees Johnny set foot on the base days after the incident. Her heart nearly bursts in her chest to see him alive and well.

She runs to him, joy blooming across her face. But when their eyes meet, he turns away. She slows down. Her smile falters when she calls after him and he doesn't even look back.

“It’s fine”, she tells herself. “It’s a traumatizing experience. He just needs some time.”

A few days later, she finds him in the gym, headphones on, slamming weights around like they insulted him. Her hand touches his arm hesitantly, “Hey, handsome,” she says gingerly. 

Johnny jerks back.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” he hisses. It’s cold, aggressive. But he doesn’t care. He yanks his arm away as if her touch burns.

Amber stares in shock. Tears blossom on the corners of her eyes. She doesn’t say anything, just runs away, crying like a hurt child.

Gaz watches her go. "Not cool, Soap," he mutters, disapproving.

“Piss off,” he snaps, grabbing his gear and storming off. 

He can’t stand being touched. 

Not now and maybe never again. It feels wrong, dirty. That’s how Johnny feels since your death. Stained. Every time he showers, he tries to scrub away the filth. The blood. The guilt. To clean up this nasty mess he’s buried in.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t wash you off.

And he doesn’t even know if he wants to, because feeling the pain tearing him apart is better than feeling nothing at all.

・・・・・

His mood flickers between rage and indifference. 

Sometimes, it burns him from the inside out. Other times, there's nothing besides a heavy silence in his mind where all the noise used to be. 

The only constant is this rotting, ever-lasting pressure in his chest.

When Price tells him he's being put on leave, Johnny doesn't argue. What's the point? It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. 

He goes back home. Finds his mom in the kitchen, the radio keeping her company, playing something worn and familiar.

She turns when she hears the door, and her eyes widen.

“You didn’t tell me you were comin’, laddie,” she says, a surprised smile brightening up her face. 

It's the smile that does it.

Because it reminds him of you. The same kind of smile you used to give him, full of love and light.

His duffel bag slips from his shoulder and hits the ground with a loud thud.

Johnny shatters.

He crumples to the floor, knees hitting the tile, hands over his face while he cries like he hasn't in years. Ugly, loud sobs fill the kitchen as he sets free something he held in for too long.

His mother rushes to him, arms wrapping around his body like a shield. She cradles her son like she used to do when he was just a boy, when he'd fall off his bike or scrape his knees playing outside.

She doesn't ask. Doesn't need to. She just holds him, as if by holding her boy tight enough, she might be able to keep him from falling apart. Desperately, she rocks him on the kitchen floor and prays.

Please, God, let this be enough. Let him come back to me.

Johnny’s not okay. But he’s home.

For now, maybe that’s enough.

Make a raccoon happy today: likes, comments, reblogs, and follows are very much appreciated! 🦝🖤 You can also put a cookie in the tip jar.

Divider by @cafekitsune

[redandgreyscale]

♥️- Evan who thinks Barty wouldn’t ever date him because he’s Ace, and Barty who thinks Evan would never date him because he’s hypersexual.

-📎

You came here for angst I'm not used to it 😔 but always like your ideas <3

They get like that, at first none of them is sure. Evan is incredibly and undeniably in love with Barty, he's always been.

He's also seen people go in and out of Barty's bed more often than he'd like to admit. He's heard it. He's seen Barty in the aftermath and pretended not to like how worn out he looked, sweat dripping down his marked chest. Evan would like to mark him too, but that's the problem. That's the only thing Evan would like to do, he would never get Barty like that because he doesn't want to. He can't do it. Not now and not ever.

Barty has seen Evan look and he's surprised he hasn't been jumped yet. He fucking tries. He'd do anything for a kiss, but he has also never seen, heard or known about Evan having sex. He knows the boy is not specially appealed by the idea, not like most people are, so maybe he doesn't even want a kiss.

Barty would take anything and everything Evan is willing to give, be just— he won't call it love, it feels like something more complicated, more twisted and ingrained into his being.

They talk one day, not about their feelings but about sex because they're high and the conversation arises.

"I don't think I'll ever want it" Evan says as he lays on the bed next to Barty just like they've done a hundred times. This one feels more charged somehow.

"I don't think I can live without it" Barty admits too. Because it's true, he can't imagine not fucking someone ever again, he needs it. The release and the fog on his mind and the entertainment. How good it feels, how stunning all of his partners have been. He's used to looking at someone and picturing them naked. He's used to thinking how someone would look on their knees, begging. Riding him or fucking him or taking him like he's their last meal. Barty loves everything sex related.

"What if..." Evan starts, doubt palpable on his voice "What if you loved someone who didn't want sex?"

He may love Evan more than sex.

Barty takes too long to answer. His mind is all over the place screaming no. But rationally, he knows it's something he can give up.

"Then I think I wouldn't have sex" he replies eventually.

"Never again?"

"At least not while I'm with this person" he shrugs and keeps smoking like he isn't bringing a new revelation to Evan.

Like what he just said isn't putting everything they thought they knew upside down.

[sandwicz]

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me

kalim x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comedy

have fun reading <3

☆---------------------------------------------------☆

☆---------------------------------------------------☆

You wouldn’t say you’re fed up with him; it’s more suitable if the word used to describe this feeling is maybe… “a little bit of annoyance." Do you genuinely hate or dislike him? Absolutely not! But sometimes your patience could only go so far. 

Please just take the mixed bouquet and leave, just leave

“Kalim. I don’t need any of your gifts. It’s okay to give me a few, but a whole room’s worth of gold is too much! Even for Grim! I don’t have anything to repay you!”

“Then you don’t need to at all!" Kalim beamed; at this point, your eyes alone can go blind just because of how bright his smile is. “Your smile is already enough to repay all of this!”

You shot down his suggestion immediately. 

“No, it’s not,” shaking your head. You sighed before turning away and speed walking away from him. 

“JustknowthatIcan’tandwon’tacceptanymoreofyourgiftsandifyoutrytoyouwillmakemesadinsteadsooo. Anywaysokaybye!~”  You said in the midst of your speedwalking-turned-to-a-run method to bolt out of there with the hope that he won’t catch up to you. 

Dawn

You glanced back for a second, and to your luck, he just stood there in his spot, not moving yet you could see his hand reaching out to you. 

I will never let you let me leave

I promise I'm not lying

Spices, scents, and flavors—a break from the hustle and bustle of Scarabia. Jamil neither liked nor hated cooking; it was merely a pastime for him. Though there are some cases in which cooking needs to be done with quick timing, the majority of it lies within the skill of patience and composure the cook had. In short, cooking might be one of his duties that he can enjoy, due to the feeling of placidity he can perceive whilst doing the activity. 

Go ahead ask anybody who has seen me trying

If the sevens above granted Jamil the ability to do so, he would gladly be put into a sleeping curse, asleep forever, no fussing and worrying half to death over a certain white head. Peace and tranquility. That was all that he could ever wish for, but alas, fate is cruel to him indeed. 

…

Unfortunately, that short, serene moment he was relishing was cut short by a loud bang of the door being opened. In comes the white-haired heir into the kitchen, holding the hand of a flustered (name). 

You were disheveled—hair messy, clothes untidy, similar to Kalim. Based on both of your appearances, Jamil can only assume both of you ran all the way from the mirror to here. This made the viper raise a brow, curious about the reason why Kalim was here, with you here no less, yet fed up with the possibility that the reason might be astoundingly foolish. 

“Jamil! I knew you’d be here!” 

Kalim enthusiastically approached him, still holding you in his hand.

Jamil sighed. “What do you want?”

“Jamil Jamil, answer me! Or, uh, (name) here. I wouldn’t leave them, right? I won’t lie, right? If I promised something, I wouldn’t break it, right?” He beamed.

Jamil narrowed his eyes. His gaze slowly focused on you. He can see your look of understanding towards his exasperation towards Kalim. Jamil then sighed again. He knew; everyone knew. Kalim’s huge crush on you, Kalim’s sincerity in courting you, and Kalim’s enthusiasm whenever the topic of you is brought up during conversations. He’s fed up with Kalim’s ramblings about you. Kalim’s not wrong; you are a great person with a lot of capabilities. Jamil admired you in some aspects, too, but one’s superfluous rambling about something could push even the most patient person to the limit. 

Kalim’s down bad for you, dear prefect. Good luck getting rid of him.

“Unfortunately. He wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t abandon you. He would always stay by your side, whether you wanted it or not. So, don’t worry about being abandoned or left behind, prefect.” 

Jamil smiled one of his rare genuine smiles.

Your eyes widened in response. You could only nod at his words, pink slowly appearing on your cheeks. 

I'm not going, if it seems like I did

Satisfied with Jamil’s answer, Kalim then took your hand to lead you out of the kitchen and into the dorm’s lounge. You waved goodbye to Jamil, silently thanking and apologizing to him for bothering him. He nodded back in acknowledgement. 

One fateful night, you woke up to multiple thuds from the window. 

I'm probably waiting outside

Your plans to sleep early and finally achieve a good night’s rest are disrupted by these annoying sounds.

SERIOUSLY, WHO COULD BE UP AT THIS HOUR??

You begrudgingly got off your bed, flicked the light switch, and looked out the window. 

“KALIM??” You gasped. You were surprised to see the boy flying on his magical carpet outside your window. His ruby eyes sparkled once he saw your sleepy figure approaching the window.

“Heyy! How’ve you been?”

“Are you crazy?? I just left your dorm like a few hours ago! Do you know what time this is? ”

“Ehm.. I don’t know; I didn’t bring my phone.” Kalim laughed. “I promised you I won’t ever leave you, right? It took you a while to respond to me. I’ve been waiting outside this whole time! … So long that I took rocks from the ground and threw them at your window!”

…

…

“I should’ve just knocked and called your name, shouldn’t I? ... Anyways, wanna go carpet riding with me?”

“Kalim. It’s 2 am right now.”

“Oh.” Kalim went silent for less than 2 seconds before continuing to speak. “It’s nice and quiet at this hour. Wanna go on a carpet ride with me?”

You sighed; you could never say no to this person, especially with how happy he looks, especially when he’s with you. 

…

…

…

Despite feeling tired, the quiet night felt nice to you. After a hectic week, you felt like this was what you needed to process it all. Quiet. Away from your trouble-making, chaotic friends, away from Grim’s complaints and cries over every little task he didn’t want to do, away from your deadbeat, high-demanding headmage, and many, many more 

Both of you were now high in the sky, above the clouds, gazing at the moon and stars. The carpet does not move, only stopping in mid-air, occasionally stirring its tassels. Funny, you thought, it’s as if this thing has muscles, experiencing discomfort when its body is in the same position for too long. You suddenly realized something amid your thoughts during this serene moment. 

Kalim was quiet. That was odd. You stopped looking at the stars and shifted your gaze toward him. This whole time, he wasn’t admiring the stars; he was admiring you. 

The lovesick look he gave you can convince anyone at first sight that he’s a fool for you. He would willingly sacrifice himself and the world for you. Numerous times, Kalim felt like the gold and gems he had were nothing compared to your beauty and shine. 

In this moment, he knew, without any doubt, that your beauty is unmatched by anything in this world combined. He even dared to say that your beauty is unmatched if compared to his world and your world combined; that claim is confirmed by the sight he’s seeing right now. 

Your smile, as elegant as the crescent moon. Your eyes, reflecting the skies, clearer than the sea and brighter than the stars. The way the moonlight shines on your face left this boy breathless. He wants to photograph you right there, record this moment, and ingrain it into his brain forever. He should hire a painter to paint you, he thought, so he can put it in his room so that he can see your lovely face every day. 

Even he knew a mere painting could never imitate a beauty such as you.

Such a stubborn man you'll likely never meet another

When we have our family dinner you can ask my mother

In the golden afternoon within the Scarabia lounge, both of you on the huge carpet, legs crossed. Both of you were looking through his family album. For every single picture displayed within the album, Kalim had a tale for them, whether it be a short anecdote of what was happening or even a long tale of each of the people in the picture. 

She's the best, you'll learn more about her on our family history test

Kalim's got a talent in storytelling; it seemed like no matter the story, no matter the tale, he managed to make it exciting, without fail. 

You smiled at every expression he made, imitating his siblings' silly shenanigans.

"See that guy with the crumbs on his face? That's Ahmad. His favourite food is ma’amoul, that thing he’s holding in his hands. He likes to steal the ma'amoul made for guests from the kitchen, always sharing them with his siblings." Kalim laughed. "He was only caught once Mom stepped in to guard the ma'amouls herself. As punishment, he was banned from eating it for a week!"

He then pointed to another person in the picture.

“Oh! And that’s Nadia! She’s great at making bracelets! We’d all wear the bracelets she made for us.” Kalim looked at you with a bright smile. “I should ask her to make one for you!”

……………………………….

"...I'd like you to meet them one day," he smiled, closing the album after seeing all its contents. "I'd like you to meet them all."

You hummed in response.

"I can't wait for you to meet my mom, my dad, and all my siblings!" He beamed.

"We should all play games together! Oh! I know. We should have a family dinner together! I'll introduce you to all of my siblings; we can all play together!"

You chuckled at his words.

"Maybe. Let's just hope I won't get overwhelmed. There are so many names and faces to remember after all."

"Oh! I know how you can remember," Kalim beamed. "We can do a family history test. You'll be the judge! That way, you can remember them better, no?"

"I- I guess..."

"Great! How about meeting them this weekend? I can ask Jamil to arrange it!"

"Huh?? Don't you think it's too soon?!"

I'm gonna do this right

Show you I'm not moving

At this point, the whole academy thought of Kalim as your plus-one—your extra body part—seeing how he was attached to you like a koala on a tree. Even Ace and Deuce had grown concerned about this. 

Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow

Your lunch table usually consisted of you, Ace, Deuce, and Grim; occasionally, some other students would join you a few times too at your table, but it’s always the four of you together at the same cafeteria table. 

Not until Kalim joined your group too, sitting there beside you like he’s been sitting with the four of you from the start, with a begrudging Jamil having to sit with your group too because of Kalim. 

…

…

…

…

“Ugh! I can’t take this anymore!” Ace protested. “Are we not gonna address the elephant in the room? Or, uh, the rich kid on the table in this case??” Ace pointed to Kalim.

“Ace!” you chastised.

“What?? Am I wrong?”

"...It felt awkward sitting here now, to be honest,” Deuce interjects.

“Deuce… Not you too…”

“I kept on telling you this, henchhuman! He’s more overbearing than that Rook guy!”

“Grim…”

"Ahaha, I understand,” Kalim finally spoke out with a smile. “I’ll be leaving if I bother you too much.”

Kalim stood up abruptly, grabbed his lunch, and walked away, leaving the five of you stunned.

…

…

…

“WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED TOO?!” Ace pointed a finger at Jamil, who let out a weary sigh.

“I didn’t think he’d take your words so seriously. Normally, he’d just brush them off.” Jamil sat up. “I’ll go after him. Sorry for the trouble these past few days.”

“Oh—no, it’s fine! You’re not a bother,” you reassured him quickly. “I should probably apologize to Kalim, too.”

“Why would you—” Ace started, only to be silenced by the sharp glare you shot his way.

………………

You hurriedly went out of the cafeteria after finishing your lunch, departing from Ace, Deuce, and Grim for a while, knowing you’d have time to talk to Kalim and go to class without being tardy.

Opening the doors of the cafeteria, your eyes immediately landed on Kalim leaning against the walls of the hall in front of the cafeteria. 

He was happily chatting with Jamil. Wait—happily?

You were relieved to see Kalim back to his usual cheerful self, but the fact that he bounced back this quickly was almost unbelievable.

Do you even need to apologize now? Part of you hesitated, not wanting to ruin the mood. Yet another part nagged at you, guilt creeping in because of your friends’ behavior.

Your inner turmoil was quickly interrupted by the call of your name. Red eyes gazed at you with a smile from the sun.

Instinctively walking toward him and Jamil, you whispered your apologies to him. Kalim shook his head in response, brushing it aside with an easygoing laugh.

Jamil then sighed, “He was waiting for you here, prefect. He wants to accompany you as you go to your class without making your friends uncomfortable.”

Kalim beamed. You chuckled at his antics as he held your hand, occasionally swinging it as you walked to class.

Oh, I'm gonna love you so

You'll learn what I already know

I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

You can try, oh, but I

The evenings in the Scarabia dorm would be one of those moments you’d reminisce about someday for their serenity: the cool breeze, the quiet night. You closed your eyes for the comfort they brought.

I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

Sitting on the carpet, your legs stretched out in front of you, leaning back on your hands, which were planted firmly behind you for support. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, your mind finally starting to unwind.

There, sitting beside you, was none other than Kalim. Jamil was fast asleep; you promised him you would take care of Kalim, ensuring he’d sleep not too late. 

As you basked in the tranquility of the night, Kalim sat beside you, chatting about his day. You occasionally hummed and nodded, paying half attention to his conversation. You wouldn’t deny that you used his voice as ambient noise; he knew this, too. But he didn’t mind it.

He was happy enough that you wanted to listen to his rambles. You wondered if it was because people would shut him down politely before he could properly ramble or if he felt comfortable enough for you to be his listener, even for the most trivial things. Hopefully, it leaned toward the latter.

In the end, both of you were comfortable: he spoke his heart out while you listened to his voice peacefully, without needing to exert much mental energy to keep up a conversation.

Suddenly, Kalim goes quiet. It took you a few seconds to notice. The silence felt strange—unsettling, even. That familiar feeling when you realize something was significant once it was absent.

You looked at Kalim, confused at his sudden silence, only to be surprised once you noticed a pair of amber orbs focusing on you.

That smitten look turned to realization once you suddenly turned your gaze at him.

“Ah. I got distracted, didn’t I?” Kalim then giggled.

“Yes,” your lips turned into a soft smile. “Yes, you did.” 

Kalim chuckled, then scooted closer to you. In the end, the distance between the two of you was nonexistent.

“Sorry, you looked too pretty under the moonlight. It left me speechless.”

You laughed, “Oh, you.”

You laid your head on his shoulder. Breathed out another sigh.

“This is nice. I hope this moment stays like this forever.”

Kalim looked at you, eyes softening. He was practically buzzing with excitement, but he held it back—he knew you needed this moment of calm. So instead, as his own way of returning all that overwhelming affection for you, he leaned in, pressed a gentle kiss to your head, and nuzzled into you with quiet warmth.

…………………….

“...It’s late already. Let’s get back into our dorm rooms.”

“Huh? Ah, ok.”

“Goodnight, Kalim.”

“Goodnight…”

He watched as your figure slowly disappeared into the guest room.

“... (name),” he breathed, barely above a whisper.

He let out a soft sigh, full of warmth and quiet affection, before coming inside his room to sleep.

Ready for your check?

Not quite, pie for everybody

Your shift at Monstro Lounge will end in at least 30 more minutes. Luckily, the Montro Lounge was quiet, with only a few customers dining and chilling while doing their work. 

What?!

The smooth jazz, the cool atmosphere, and the dim lighting were what helped you relax your mind. You finished all your assignments and had done all your tests; the only thing to do now is to do shifts at Monstro Lounge to gain some extra money. 

You were at the bar section of the cafe. Wiping some wine glasses while idly talking to your coworker. 

The ringing of the cafe’s doorbell caught both your attention; your eyes landed on the familiar housewarden of Scarabia. Once his gaze met yours, his bright red eyes sparkled.

He quickly walked over and sat down on the bar chair opposite you. With his elbows on the table and chin resting in the palm of his hand, he gazed dreamily at you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Hello, what would you like to order?”

“Nothing. I just want to be with you,” he smiled.

You could hear your coworker giggling beside you as you tried to resist smiling at his honesty, which sounded far too much like a flirtatious line.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here without ordering anything,” you said, masking your fluster with professionalism.

He then nodded, asked for the menu, and then, without a second to spare, quickly ordered the first drink he saw on the menu.

Minutes passed, with him thoroughly talking about his day, sipping his drink in between, while you listened. Either making drinks for other customers or cleaning the counter and glasses after the customers were done drinking their beverages.

“So, uh, ready for your check?”

“Yea!” His smile then turned to a pout. “Wait. If I pay now, that means I won’t get to stay here with you.”

You were about to correct him that, no, technically, you can still stay to chill (or lounge (heh)).

But before you can say anything, he interjected, “I can invite my dorm members here and order for them!” 

He showed you a text he sent to the Scarabia dorm group chat. One where he’d pay for all the food and drinks his dorm members would buy if they quickly came to Monstro Lounge. A few minutes later, the Monstro Lounge was packed with Scarabia students, who were eager to make use of Kalim’s offer. Then, in came a distressed Jamil. Gasping for air as he leaned his arm on the cafe’s door to catch his breath.

“One moment—” he wheezed. “I left you alone for club activities.”

He panted, “And then suddenly you’re here, treating the whole dorm?” 

He inhaled, “In Monstro Lounge??” 

His eye twitched.

“Not to mention, you didn’t ask me to test the food for poison. What if—”

“Relax, Jamil~” Kalim cut in with a grin. “(Name) made the food just for me. They knew how cautious you’d be about this, so they voluntarily cooked all the food that I ordered for me.”

At that, Jamil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His shoulders eased, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment—a rare, unguarded gesture of trust.

“...I don’t have to worry, then.”

“Thank you, (name), I appreciate what you’ve—” 

As his gaze landed on you, he gasped at your appearance. 

You looked completely disheveled—hair a mess, skin damp with sweat, arms limp against the counter. Your eyes were so heavy with exhaustion that it seemed like you could collapse at any second.

Ah, right, he thought, sudden rush hour because of Kalim.

He gave you a look of absolute sympathy and a thumbs-up—hopefully, it would boost your morale.

You sighed in response, letting your head drop onto the counter, your arm barely softening the fall.

…

…

…

Azul, I know you are smiling right now. Give me half the extra money, at least!!!

Spent my days alone; my only friend was a stray kitty called Sardine

I grew up an only child in the suburb of the city

I thought it was hilarious to call a cat a kind of fish

She played hard to get hissing while she scratched me

What she was trying to say was "Ogie come and catch me"

Kalim invited himself to Ramshackle, greeting you once he saw you tending to your garden outside of Ramshackle. Fortunately, you were already almost done with your activity. So you gestured to him to sit on a chair in the garden while you made some tea for the both of you.

I learned quickly, that perseverance stood between a cat and her new best friend, me

When you finally sat down and sipped your cup of tea, Kalim suddenly spoke out.

“Did you know? I had a pet cat.”

“What animals do you not have as a pet, Kalim?” you responded sarcastically.

“No, but this one is different! I actually took care of this cat myself!”

“Really?”

“Well… Jamil actually took care of most of its needs, but I still contributed too!”

“Alright… Whatever you say~”

“...her name was Sardine,” he continued, smiling at the memory.

“Sardine?” You chuckled, “Why would you name it that?”

“I just think it’s funny,” he gave a big grin, eyes shut in happiness.

“She was the shy type.”

“Oh?”

“She would always scratch and hiss at me.”

“Oh. Is it because she didn’t like the name?” you teased.

“Haha! Maybe.”

“But it took a while for her to be comfortable around me,” Kalim added, “I was so happy when she approached me herself. I actually thought she wouldn’t warm up to me at all!”

“Aw. What made her warm up to you eventually though?”

“Hm… probably how I would constantly go up to her and give her fish and treats. I would always go to her every time I found her. Hehe… Guess she got used to me. We became best friends! :D”

You smiled.

“Perseverance, huh?”

“Yea!”

“...How’s your cat now? You’ve been using past tenses for her. Did something happen to her?”

“Oh. I don’t know where she is now. She ran away one day after I wanted to give her to my cousin because I had to go to NRC,” Kalim sighed, looking into the distance, “I’ve never seen her ever since.”

“Oh.”

“But I know I’m gonna find her one day,” Kalim stood up, “If I don’t, then I hope she lives the best of her nine lives.” 

“I know you’ll find her. She might escape to follow you to NRC, who knows?”

Kalim beamed at your response. 

Maybe, like Sardine, the way he warmed your heart is by his perseverance. How he never wanted to give up on you, how every effort he made for you is worth every smile you gave him. Maybe that’s why you ended up falling for him. 

Oh, I'm gonna do this right

Show you I'm not moving

You sighed. You felt like your tasks were never-ending. Similar to slicing the head of a hydra, once you finish one assignment, more would pop up, drowning you in more work. 

Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow

This is all thanks to your oh-so-generous headmage, of course.

Suddenly, a knock from your window snapped you out of your thoughts. You’ve gotten used to Kalim spontaneously inviting you out for carpet riding. You thought about taking a break after a few assignments or two, yet you never managed to do so. You felt that it was better to do everything first, then take a rest afterwards; it felt more rewarding that way, after all. So, you sucked it up and kept on continuing on with your work, ignoring your burnout and, in turn, not realizing your lack of productivity because of many distractions, mentally and physically. 

It seemed that Kalim's appearance was your wake-up call to finally take a break and refresh your mind. So you took a deep breath, breathed it out, and opened the window to go on a carpet ride with him. 

He greeted you with a smile, scooting a bit to give you space so you would be able to sit on the carpet with him. His enthusiastic personality never failed to lift your spirits, refreshing you after what felt like a draining day. 

Floating in the endless sky, Kalim showed you a picnic basket he was bringing. He thought it’d be nice to relax for a picnic date in the woods surrounding the campus, near the cottage. The view of the sun setting was added with a star gazing activity afterwards as a bonus.

Both of you set up the picnic as soon as you land. A grateful sentiment to Jamil for preparing many delicious grubs neatly inside the picnic bag. 

Soon after, you joined Kalim on the picnic blanket and grabbed a sandwich to munch on. 

The cool breeze and the gentle rustling of the trees beneath the cloudy sky made the picnic feel all the more peaceful.

“So… (name).”

You perked up at the sound of your name, looking at your caller while still munching on the sandwich.

“Hm?”

“This might be weird, but can I do my homework here?”

You raised an eyebrow at his words.

“Why here? Why not at the library or Scarabia lounge?”

“I thought I could focus more if you’re with me,” Kalim beamed. “The atmosphere here made it nice for studying, right?”

“Ah. You’re not wrong. Being outside in nature is comfy and helps you relax while studying or doing work.”

You shoved the last bite of the sandwich into your mouth before taking out your phone to check on your unfinished assignments. Kalim interrupted you when you were about to unlock your phone screen.

“You don’t need to study~,” Kalim whined.

“Just take a rest, mkay? You look like a dead person,” Kalim chortled, seemingly trying to sound positive despite the comment he made.

You sighed. He’s not wrong. You really do need the rest. And you deserve it.

“I’ll lie down then,” you said. Kalim hummed as a response.

As you looked at the sky, you admired the clouds passing by, giving you a sense of peace. You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes, relishing in the calm moment.

Time felt like it passed by in a blink when you slept. Hence, your surprised face when you realized the sky was now an orange-yellow hue when you woke up.

You sat up and looked around you, trying to recollect what had happened before you. Relieved that Kalim was still right beside you.

You were astonished by the fact that he managed to stay focused after all this time. I mean, he might’ve taken short breaks or pretended to be immersed in studying, but Kalim wouldn’t be this dedicated to pretending; that’s what you knew of him anyway.

You slowly sat up, curious to see the progress he had made. As you crawled closer to him, he noticed your movement and immediately perked up.

“You’re awake!” He took the paper he was doing and excitedly showed it to your face.

“Look at the progress I’ve made while you were asleep!” Kalim giggled.

You took the paper and inspected it, still half dazed from waking up a few moments before.

You were impressed; he did manage to focus while you slept. 

“Wow, you did a lot! How did you manage to focus?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh!”

“I don’t know…”

“I guess I just did?”

“Heh? You just did?”

“...I don’t know. Seeing you sleep like that… It makes me feel calm. Makes me want to focus. Somehow, when I get distracted, my eyes will end up looking at you, and that’s how I get my focus back?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Ahaha.”

You couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

On some days, Kalim could be read like a book; you can directly tell what he’s thinking through his mannerisms right from the get-go.

On some days, however, he could pull something unexpected like this. The calm side of him, the attentive and committed side of him.

On some occasions, his shift in personality made you realize you’ve not understood him completely at all—that he’s more complex than what he presented himself to be. There are more things to learn about and from him, more to discover and cherish. You smiled at the thought.

Like the sun whose rays gently warm the earth at dawn, accompanying it through the day before bidding farewell at dusk, yet never truly leaving and always destined to return, his presence, too, had done the same to your heart.

Oh, I'm gonna love you so

You'll learn what I already know

I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

When you say never

You can try, oh, but I

One day, all the students were gathered in the assembly hall for an announcement from the headmage.

I love you means blah blah blah yip yap yap yap now get back to work!

He introduced a new program: a major project that would count for a significant portion of their final grade. The twist? It required freshmen and sophomores to work together in mixed-year teams. 

“To promote collaboration and cooperation with one another,“ Crowley said.

But you knew well that it was merely a lame excuse he made to appear more principled and dignified compared to Royal Sword Academy. 

“So, for the arrangement of who you shall work together with…Ah. You all will work together with the class that is the same letter as yours.” He declared.

“So, it shall be class 1A with 2A, class 1B with 2B, 1C with 2C, and so on. Now that the announcement is done, your first task is to group yourselves; your homerooms shall be your supervisor. You may all leave the hall now.”

The quiet hall was quickly filled with loud murmurs as the students slowly exited the hall and entered their respective classrooms.

Students shall be divided into groups; they have the freedom to choose who to be in their group. However, one group should have only 3-4 members, with each group containing a freshman and a sophomore.

……………………………..

As expected, Kalim cheerily came into your classroom, along with his other classmates, for the project. As soon as his eyes spotted you at the back of the classroom, he immediately speed-walked right beside you, much to the Adeuce duo and Grim’s dismay. 

In the end, the four of you (Ace, Deuce, Kalim, and You (+Grim)) grouped yourselves as a group. All of you waited until your homeroom came in for further instructions.

It took them a while, so you decided to brainstorm ideas for the project, occasionally asking your group members for inspiration. Kalim was right beside you, watching you work. Deuce fell asleep immediately at his desk, possibly due to the all-nighters he pulled to finish his homework. Ace was completely focused on the game he was playing, while Grim watched, making comments like “I can do that better” or “Myah! You suck at this!” much to Ace’s annoyance.

“Whu- Huh?” Deuce was suddenly awakened from his sleep by your gentle nudge.

“Alright. Since this is a group project, everyone shall have their work to do. I will think of the overall design of things while you all get the materials I’ve listed here,” you said to all your group members.

“Huh. Is our work here just to be errand boys?” Ace teased.

“Oh, of course not,” you smiled sarcastically. “You have plenty more work to do. Now chop chop!” 

You shooed them away with a casual sweep of your hand, gesturing them to leave. They obliged, with a twinkle in their eyes. You knew them enough to recognize that look; they were planning to do some mischief or found a way to slack off (except for Deuce; he only obliged because he’s such a diligent student (oml deuce ilysm thanks for being so good unlike those two menaces).

The three of them had asked Professor Crewel for permission before leaving the classroom to gather materials, leaving you and Kalim behind.

You figured it’d be better to keep Kalim with you—less chance of him getting distracted and wandering off to do something else (like your friends were probably doing right now… Hopefully Deuce could keep them on track).

Besides, Kalim was genuinely good at coming up with ideas and design concepts. Sure, some of them might be over-the-top or technically impossible, but they still made great starting points or sources of inspiration. 

Conversation between both of you flows effortlessly, with new topics appearing after another. For a brief second, the dialogue led to questioning when the adeuce grim trio would return. Only for the dialogue to resume, hopping on another topic afterwards. 

One way or another, the topic of love came up. He talked about how he would always be right by your side. No need to worry about anything, because he would be there to provide everything. He promised that he would never give you up, never let you down, never run around and desert you. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Your eyebrow twitched at that declaration. You didn’t know how to react, honestly.

“Umm… When you say “never”—”

“You can try to” Kalim responded

Snap! The loud whip from your homeroom echoed in the classroom, interrupting Kalim.

“I love you means blah blah blah yip yap yap yap now get back to work!” Crewel protested.

Both of you giggled at Crewel’s protest. His complaint only made you smile harder, your focus slipping from the project—not that you minded, not with Kalim sitting beside you.

In the end, you knew—there was no getting rid of Kalim. Not from your life, and certainly not from your thoughts. Your heart would always reach for his, because you knew that, no matter what, he would rather die than let you go through a single day feeling unloved.

I can try, but I

I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

.......................................................................................................................

Bonus:

Jamil: …

Jamil: …

Jamil: If I had a penny for every time I’ve sighed in my whole life because of Kalim, I’d be a billionaire. Richer than the Asims themselves.

Jamil: *sighs

(name): *pat *pat 

.......................................................................................................................

A/N: Sorry if you think this is ooc. I’m trying hard to depict Kalim’s character and his dynamic with Jamil ;-; 👍

Have a nice day/night yippee

[pqndxra]

PARTY 4 U!

PREV CHAPTER 4 NEXT

w/c: 1.2k

SYNOPSIS

Rafe had charm, wealth and a reputation that would turn heads wherever he went. He had never even heard of the word no - until he met her. The one woman he couldn’t buy, couldn’t charm and couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, he’s willing to risk everything to have the one thing he can’t seem to touch. You.

CONTENT

swearing, smoking weed, all characters are over 18 (Reader is 20, Rafe is 21), Rafe being a dork, mentions of death, mentions of ward, past bullying, shitty writing, lmk if I missed any

A/N

Hey guys... sorry you had to wait a bit for this one (and that it’s shit) but I was given extra shifts at work and your girl need that band ASAP!

When you left Kildare to go to college, you vowed to yourself you would never think about Rafe Cameron again—but god, was it hard. Seeing his Instagram stories of him and "his boys" throwing ragers left, right, and center, him being with a different girl every weekend, just tore you to shreds.

You shouldn't have even been surprised. You'd heard the rumors, the girl talk during your shifts at the country club, but the teenager inside of you was screaming to throw a glass at Malibu Barbie's head.

So you blocked him on everything. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

You went to parties in your free time, kept busy with your studies. You even went on a few dates, and it worked well—until you went back to Kildare for the summer to pick up a few shifts. Where you saw him everywhere, all the time.

So when you stood in front of Rafe Cameron, breathing in the mix of sea water and his cologne, and those words left Rafe's lips, you knew you were done for.

"Like what?"

"Whatever you want to do," he answers a bit too quickly. He wipes his clammy palms on his jeans, his heart caught in his throat. Why the fuck was he so nervous?

Now it's your turn to stare up at him, trying to find any hint of humor, but you don't—not even a subtle quirk of a smirk. So you look around the parking lot, not for anything in particular, just to buy yourself some time before you let out a small sigh. "The beach. You following me with your truck?"

He just scratches the back of his head with a small wince. "Topper gave me a ride—he's designated driver tonight."

You let out a small giggle, knowing Rafe is about to have the most uncomfortable car journey of his life. "Well, my car isn't exactly a Porsche, but I'm sure you can go ten minutes without complaining," you tease while walking towards the driver's side of the car.

He quickly rushes over to you before you reach the door, softly catching your wrist to grab your attention. "I can drive." But you only look at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"You know how to drive manual?"

"Oh—um, n-no, not really."

You hold back a laugh. "Get in, Cameron." You watch as he does a nervous walk to the other side before sliding into the driver's seat. Suddenly, you're very conscious of the state of your car: receipts stuffed into the cup holder, the air thick with hints of weed and vanilla perfume, spare clothes strewn across the backseats.

He's already in the passenger seat before you can clean up a bit. "Sorry, it's a bit messy," you mumble before starting the engine.

He's unusually quiet, so you glance over to see him trying to fumble with the seat's position. His massive frame is far too big for your tiny car—the top of his head touches the roof and his knees are almost pressing against his chest.

"How do I—? Is it broken? Should I just sit in the back?" he grumbles. You just stare at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. You let out a sly giggle before leaning over the console, maneuvering your arm so it's reaching under the seat between his knees.

Rafe stiffens. He stares at the back of your head, which is dangerously close to his lap. His breath hitches, his hands twitch at his sides as all that races through his mind are impure thoughts.

"Move the seat back," you murmur, which snaps him out of his trance.

"What?" he questions breathlessly, heat creeping up his neck.

"Move back. You want more room, right?" You crane your head towards his, noting the blush dusted across his cheeks and the dumbfounded stare.

You let out a chuckle, rolling your eyes as you twist your body so your free hand can reach out to grip the seat from above his shoulder and push it back.

"Head out of the gutter, Cameron."

"Uh... yeah, sorry." He awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

You turn on the engine and start to reverse out of the car park. "You okay with going to the beach?" You turn to him only to see he's still staring at you. "Okay, what the fuck is with the staring? You're acting so weird."

He doesn't look away. Instead, an easy smirk makes its way onto his face. "It's just... how did I not recognize you? I mean, yeah, you look different, but not like in a bad way—" You raise an eyebrow at him. "No! No, not like that. I just—you look... good."

You only chuckle. "Thanks, I guess?"

The rest of the journey is filled by the quiet hum of the radio. From the corner of your eye, you see Rafe stealing quick glances at you as you notice he fiddles with his fingers.

After you arrive at the beach, you park along the sea wall. You unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door. Rafe quickly follows.

The beach is dead silent except for the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the summer breeze dancing through the palm trees.

You make your way towards the white sand, jumping over the sea wall. You hear Rafe behind you, stumbling out of the small car and jogging over to you. You stop and turn towards him, waiting for him to catch up. After a few seconds, he stands beside you, letting out a quick sigh.

You suddenly drop to the sand, crossing your legs as you let out a relieved sigh. "You good?" His deep voice rasps from above you. You glance up. "Yeah, just a long day at work. Sit with me—it's a bit creepy with you looming over there."

He takes a seat beside you, his elbows resting on his knees. "What have you been up to? Haven't seen you in years." His voice is soft—you can tell he isn't just trying to fill the silence. He's genuinely curious.

You chuckle. "Went to uni, had to leave this shithole before I lost my mind. But I don't know, I kinda missed it." You shrug, playing with the sand beneath you. "What about you?"

Rafe rubs his neck. "Took over the business as soon as I finished school, just been handling that ever since." You suddenly remember hearing about Ward's death. It's not like you knew the guy that well—hell, you hated the man—but you could imagine it still sucked to lose a parent, no matter how evil they were.

"Oh yeah, I heard about your dad. I'm sorry—"

"Don't be. I'm not that torn about it. He wasn't a good man. I know that now." He nods with a wry smile, and you decide to drop the subject. "You know, I used to have a crush on you in high school." He giggles like it's an embarrassing secret.

Your stomach drops. Memories flash of Rafe constantly making fun of your friends, picking on you because your new car was secondhand, the way his family broke yours without even a glance. That was him having a crush on you? God help the girl he ends up with.

Your mood suddenly turns sour and you scoff. "Really? You had a horrible way of showing it." No matter how pissed you may seem, the teenager inside you is jumping for joy right now.

"Hey, look, I am actually sorry. I was a dick, y'know, and I don't want to keep—hey—hey, where are you going?" He cuts himself off and scrambles up from the sand, standing there dumbly as he sees you stalking towards your car. Shit.

He's already fucked this up. You're going to leave him here, drive home, and he won't ever see you again. He curses under his breath and drags his hands across his face. He spins to face back towards the sea with a scowl across his face.

That's until he hears someone clear their throat from behind. He spins around to see you back in front of him, this time holding a lighter and a joint. "You still smoke, right?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I do."

You once again sit in the sand, placing the joint between your lips and flicking the lighter. He quickly joins you before he opens his mouth to say something but seemingly goes against it. He watches as you inhale before passing it to him. He does the same.

"I also had a crush on you in high school," you admit quietly, bringing your knees to your chest. His head snaps to you, his eyes slightly wide before turning into something softer, something you couldn't place. Guilt? Relief?

Neither of you says anything. Only small smiles and the sound of the beach.

TAGLIST

@rafeysangelbaby @suzuki-18 @cokewithcameron @jinxatdawn @lobot0mies4sale

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[fratboykate]

Papi, are you alive? Thunderbolts trailer leaked and we got Hailee back from the dead (and there's the movie with Andrew and Florence and its KYAU coded as fuck) Kate and Yelena content galor this week. PLEASE COME BACK. We've been deprived for a year. It's been jail for too long. Grace us with Kate x Yelena content again. Pretty please.

*taps mic* Is this thing on?

[criscura]

I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.

I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.

It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.

I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....

[mwphisto]

So.

Lads reaction to mc being in such a position that their ass is stuck up in the air

LaDs: You did this on purpose, right?

~ All Contain Smut, the consent is dubious for these - never explicitly asked for or stated & they are all in pre-established relationships.

~ All love interests x Female Reader

A note from Soul: Thank you for this idea! Sorry it's taken so unbelievably long to get around to it! I hope it was somewhat worth the wait ;-; I also hope I took your prompt the right way lmao if not... I can always try again!

Xavier can’t help the low chuckle that slips past his lips when he sees you stuck between the tv stand and bookshelf. You’re whining, wiggling your ass as if that will do anything other than tempt him. “How did you manage this, my star?”

The second you slump in defeat, his laughter grows a little stronger. “I was trying to fix all the cables you have back here and I got stuck! If I move too fast the tv will fall. Can you just hold the tv for me so it’s stable?” Reasonable enough, but you’d be a fool to think Xavier would ever let this perfect opportunity pass him.

You expect to hear him shuffle closer, to see his hand from your peripheral vision perhaps. Instead, you feel his hands encompassing your ass. “…Xavier?” The tv teeters as you try and turn your body around, effectively keeping you in place.

“C’mon, tell me this isn’t the perfect opportunity.” You feel it then, his fingers hooking in your sleep pants and tugging them down alongside your panties in one go. “My star, why are you already wet?” How on earth does he expect you to answer that?

“Xavier! Quit playing!”

“Playing? I’m not playing.” His fingers are spreading you apart, watching the arousal ooze from your entrance. "If anything, my star, it seems you're the one playing around." A small smirk is pulling at his lips as he watches your cunt clench around nothing.

"J-just..." But you had nothing proper to say, fingers clenching around the bunch of wires you had foolishly tried to organize. "Don't knock your tv over in the process..."

And you swore he moaned, the warmth of it spreading over your exposed cunt as he placed a wet kiss to your dripping center.

"I'll make it worth your while, my sweet star."

Zayne has seen you in quite compromising positions before, but this one? Oh this one takes the cake. "Z, is that you? Can you help!" You had lost hope in your quiet escape a while ago, accepting your fate of being ass up with your head down in the washing machine.

"My love, how did you even manage this?" Though, it's quite muffled from where your head is at. "I was trying to get the last sock stuck to the bottom, I reached too far and lost my balance and... yeah." Your feet were barely touching the ground, not enough leverage to push yourself back and get stead on the ground.

Zayne suppressed his laugh, eyes dragging over your pitiful stance. All the while, he was making a mental note to buy a washing machine that opened from the side rather than the top.

"I'm afraid my services require a fee." And your bewildered squeal was enough for him to tug at the sleep shorts that had been riding up your ass with each struggled wiggle. "One that needs to be paid before the services can be done, of course."

"No way! Get me out of here first and then I'll pay you!" But slender fingers were already squishing and squeezing your bottom, a pleased hum slipping past your lover's lips. "My love, you know this opportunity is too good." The stain that appeared as Zayne pressed two fingers over your covered center only proved him right.

"Z, please! I swear all the blood is rushing to my head!" But he only laughed, hooking his fingers under the thin strip of fabric covering your center. Pulling it away from your heated sex to see the arousal clinging to the fabric, keeping it connected to you. "I beg to differ, it seems you certainly have enough circulation to..."

But you kicked your legs with a squeal, embarrassed and aroused at the same time. "Just get me out of here!"

"In due time, my love."

Rafayel was nearly doubled over laughing when he found you. "Cutie, how did you accomplish this feat?" You couldn't see him, of course, but oh could you hear the amusement in his voice as he spoke. "You should be thanking me, Raf! I saved your sculpture!"

But, in the process, you knocked over several canvases... and perhaps his beloved ladder he always sat upon. Which didn't hurt when it landed on you. It actually was cushioned by the fallen art pieces on top of you. But, now? You're stuck.

"Cutie, I'm pretty sure you can wiggle your way free." Though, he certainly doesn't mind the view you are presenting him with. Your ass is wiggling a bit but you can't shimmy free with the wet sculpture in your hands. "If I do, it'll ruin the sculpture! It's still wet!" Even now, you could see your fingers creating indents where you held.

"That's... fine." Though, Rafayel would be lying if he said that didn't give him several inappropriate ideas.

How ruined would his newest sculpture be if it was the only thing you had to hold onto while he fucked you stupid? Oh, now he really had to find out. "Let's make it a different sort of art piece, yeah?

Before you could question him, you felt his hands circling your thighs, spreading you apart as he tugged your bottoms to the side. "Rafayel, what are you- shit!" He was nudging your entrance, the dull head of his cock collecting your arousal and smearing it around.

"You sure this wasn't on purpose? You're already so wet..." You felt the urge to question how he was already hard. But you knew your lover well, this position wasn't all that innocent either. On your knees, back arched, ass up? It was like dangling a treat in his face.

"Don't be ridiculous, just get me out of this mess please!" A last ditch effort as you felt him center himself at your entrance. "Oh I will, after I've had my fun..." and he's pushing in, reveling in your desperate whine as he pictured your fingers digging into the clay.

Sylus can't quite believe his eyes when he enters one of his many armories. "This is... an interesting tactic to get my attention, kitten." He had merely gone to investigate the crashing sound he heard, assuming it was one of the twins and not... you.

"Sy! T-this wasn't an attempt to get your attention! I'm genuinely stuck!" A case of weapons had fallen on top of you when you bent down to look at a particular gun he had hanging low on the wall.

Now, you're quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. "Ah, well... you've certainly garnered my attention regardless, Kitten."

Your dress was bunched around your waist, revealing your cotton panties to his hungry stare. Mentally, Sylus was thankful neither twin went running at the sound of your chaos. Or else, they would have gotten a view meant for him and him alone.

"I take it you are needing my help." But his tone is a bit far away, as if he is too dazed to really put effort into his words. It's totally not due to the wet patch on the center of your panties, no not at all. Definitely not due to your wiggling hips, or your plump ass begging to be smacked. No, not even your thighs pressing together as you squirm.

No, Sylus was much... stronger than that. (wrong)

"Yes! Yes please! I really can't find a way to free my-Sylus?" Your entire body stiffens, not out of distain but out of surprise. His nose is warm as it trails over your lower back, his hands hot as they still your wiggly hips. "Remember that time you couldn't help yourself while I was on my back under my motorcycle?"

Oh. Oh no... you remembered very well. You couldn't have helped yourself then even if you wanted too. The way his shirt had ridden up his stomach? His arms bare and muscles flexing as he worked on the underside of his bike? Yeah, no. You had straddled him so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Sylus hadn't even flinched...

"I think..." and something hard and bulging is pressed directly over your covered center "...it's time I returned the favor, no?"

Caleb was convinced he had seen too much porn. No, his mind was utterly tainted, ruined, a wasteland ruined by consumption of the adult video industry. Because there was no way this was happening to him... to you... and he was getting hard.

"Caleb? Is that you?" You want to turn back and look, but you are unironically stuck under the kitchen sink. Somehow, you wedged yourself too deep, stuck between the wooden base and the piping of his sink. "Got a little carried away while cleaning... I'm stuck."

Clad in one of his shorts and a pair of his boxers, Caleb felt like a kid on Christmas morning. His sweet pipsqueak, his perfect princess, he could slap a bow on your ass and he'd consider you the best gift he had ever received. "Yeah, yeah I can see that."

"I just need you to guide me a bit, I think I can get out if you do that- what the hell?" You had attempted to move back but you could feel his evol cling to your skin. "Caleb! Now isn't the t-time!" But his nose was nuzzling your center, and every complaint fizzled out.

"Oh, c'mon. I can't give up this opportunity, pips. You looked too cute with your ass in the air like that..." He can feel you shudder, feel you still feebly attempt to push back but for a different reason.

"Caleb... my back is starting to hurt..." but you were already going slack-jawed. His tongue licking over your covered cunt before his fingers yanked his boxers down of your hips. "All the more reason I should make this pretty pussy feel good, no? You made a mess of my boxers, pips. Your pussy leaked all over them..."

Your cheeks burn as you hear him inhale, sniffing in the heady scent of your musk. You have a funny feeling he won't be washing them before he wears them himself... "Such a pervert, Caleb..."

"Yeah, yeah. But I'm your pervert."

[classyrbf]

Nerdy armin w a tongue piercing???? saw the animation and I'm obsessed.

you and your best friend, nerd!armin just chilling in his dorm room while he organizes his new pokemon cards that he had bought earlier, his fingers carefully sliding each card into the plastic sleeve like it was an ancient artifact he didn’t want to destroy. It has been about two months since you last really hung out with him, too busy with midterms and other shit.

You’re bopping your head to the music playing on his speaker, scrolling through Instagram when you peek over and see armin poking his tongue out in full concentration. That wasn’t anything new, but what was new was the piece of silver jewelry adorning his tongue. You sit up, questioning if you’re seeing things. “Armin?” You squint your eyes.

“Hm?” He slides his tongue back in his mouth, pushing his glasses up when he looks at you.

“What’s that…in your mouth?” You question, brows furrowing.

He looks just as confused as you do. “What…what do you mean?” You grip his jaw, his eyes going wide as he moves back a little. “Open your mouth.” And even though he’s still oddly confused, he hesitantly open his mouth and lo and behold, there you see it. A tongue piercing. “When the fuck did you get that?!” You screech, now you’re really in shock.

“Oh! This? That’s what you were talking about.” He fully stuck his tongue out, showing you a better view. “Ummm,” he trails off, “Eren told me to get it as a dare. I don’t know why I did it, but I kinda like it.” He shrugs.

“Armin, that still doesn’t answer my question.” You cock your head to the side. “Also, a dare? You never do dares. I know you’re keeping something from me.”

“It was like two months ago! Right after we stopped hanging out. And, I’m not hiding anything!” He quickly goes back to sorting his cards, flipping through the plastic pages to find an empty slot. He can feel you staring at him, your eyes burning into his skull. After just a few seconds, he breaks. “Ok, fine! We all got drunk at the frat party that they forced me to go to because I was cooped up in my dorm too long and then like I was having fun…yeah…and then one thing led to another and now I have it,” he spoke quickly, trying to get everything off his chest at once without having you interrupt him.

“You, nerdy little armin, got drunk and pierced your tongue as a dare?” You sat there with your arms folded across your chest. “Who have you become since I’ve been away?!” You laugh, still in shock.

“I’m still me, just with a piercing. My parents would kill me if they ever found out though.” He shook his head, slipping one last card into the plastic sleeve. “All done!” He slammed the binder shut, letting out a sigh of relief. “Why are you still staring at me? I told you everything.” He pushed up his glasses again.

“Mmm, did you try it out yet?” You playfully smirk at him.

“What do you mean ‘try it out’?” He blinked.

“On a girl…down there…eating her out?” You giggled.

His face automatically turned bright red, opening his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He couldn’t even look at you anymore, averting his gaze back to his closed binder. “Wh-what?! No! I don’t…I don’t even know how to do that.” He awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Wanna learn?”

[matchingbatbites]

Explicit | 2k words | First time blowjob + Getting together

Found this in my drafts and finished it off. I know this is inspired by a post but I cannot find it.

"Can I blow you?"

Eddie freezes where he's unpacking his bag at the Harrington dining table, the first to arrive for tonight's D&D session. He blinks before turning to look at Steve, who is leaning casually in the doorway like he hadn't just offered Eddie the chance to live out one of his frequent fantasies.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that? I think my ears stopped working for a second there."

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, his hip popping out in that bitchy way that makes Eddie want to bite him. "Can I blow you?" he asks again, this time with more emphasis, and yeah, Eddie heard him right the first time.

Eddie says "What's with the sudden interest, Stevie?" which he thinks is a valid question, considering the fact that Steve has never shown any inclination towards any dick, let alone Eddie's. He'd gotten confirmation of such when he came out to Steve a couple months ago and received a prompt "Oh cool. You can talk to me about boys if you want, but I don't know how much help I'll be."

The Steve in front of him exhales sharply, clearly holding back a bitchier response as he replies "Do you want a blowjob or not, man?"

It only takes Eddie half a second to answer yes, because even if this is some fever dream, there's no way he's going to turn down the man he's been crushing on. All the more reason to agree, honestly.

"Here?" Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.

"Upstairs, in case one of the kids shows up early."

Right, of course.

Eddie follows Steve up to his room, where the other boy shuts and locks the door behind them before he's pushing Eddie up against the solid surface.

There's no build up, no easing into it; no needy kisses or teasing touches like Eddie would expect from Steve Harrington. Steve just drops to his knees and starts on Eddie's belt, and all Eddie can do is watch as the hottest guy he knows pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to expose him.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up and his face flushes pink as he takes in Eddie's dick for the first time. Eddie's too distracted by how pretty Steve is to ask if he likes what he sees, and Steve doesn't say anything as he wraps his hand around the shaft, seeming to get a feel for it. Eddie is only about half-chubbed, but begins to rapidly approach rock hard as Steve swipes his thumb over the piercing that sits below the head.

"Did that hurt?" Steve asks, voice thick with something, and Eddie shrugs.

"Yeah. Made jacking off pretty tough for a while."

Steve hums in response and finally gives it a proper stroke, and Eddie groans low, even though it's a bit drier than he'd like. The other boy must realize the same thing, because he pulls his hand back and - fuck - spits in it before he's grabbing Eddie's dick and trying again.

It's much better, and Eddie hums encouragingly as Steve jerks him off, his eyes focused on the head that's getting redder and redder as Eddie's dick hardens. Eddie bites his lip as he watches Steve focus on his task, as he speeds up and slows down, trying a few things out.

Eventually Steve leans in and licks over the tip, pulling another groan from Eddie, and it's like Steve suddenly remembers that the dick in his hand is actually attached to a person. He looks up at Eddie, his gaze swirling with wonder and desire as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks.

"Fuuuuck, Stevie," Eddie groans, unable to keep his mouth shut at the sight before him. "Look like a fuckin' dream on your knees for me, baby."

Steve shudders at the praise and pulls back to mouth at the piercing, and Eddie desperately needs to know if Steve has done this before, because if not then he's a fucking natural. He clocks every one of Eddie's reactions and abuses the knowledge, tongue flicking the piercing or lips suckling on the tip. It's not long before he takes more into his mouth, sinking down onto Eddie's cock as far as he can before pulling back with a wet noise.

He quickly finds his rhythm, bobbing on Eddie's dick like he's done it a hundred times, and Eddie gives up on trying to be cool about this whole thing. He pushes his hands into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, forcing more of his dick into Steve's mouth.

"Tap my leg if you need to stop," Eddie says as he gives a shallow thrust into that wet heat. Steve just moans, eyes fluttering as he lets Eddie guide him, his hands grabbing Eddie's jeans and holding on as Eddie fucks into his mouth.

Eddie tries to be careful; he doesn't want to hurt Steve, but the boy is just so beautiful with tears welling up in his eyes and a pink blush staining his skin. He snaps his hips, pushing the head of his dick into Steve's throat just enough to hear him choke, and Steve winces at the intrusion but doesn't tap out.

Eddie croons a soft "That's it, baby. Such a good boy, taking my dick so well," and Steve's reaction is even stronger than before, the way he melts into the encouragement even more obvious. It makes Eddie want to shower Steve in praise, to smother him with it, so he never doubts how perfect he is.

"Look at me, Stevie," he commands, and when Steve's eyes lift to meet Eddie's - glossy with unshed tears and a bit unfocused - it's enough to push Eddie right to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm-"

Eddie yanks Steve off and strips his dick in quick strokes until he's coming, shooting his spend over Steve's beautiful, dazed face. He takes just a second to catch his breath before he drops to the floor and kisses Steve hard, smearing his cum between their lips. Steve whines into it as he kisses back, and Eddie blindly reaches down, searching for the hard line of Steve's dick in his pants.

Instead, his hand meets a damp spot, and Eddie breaks the kiss so he can look down to confirm his suspicion.

"Holy shit, Steve. Did you come in your pants just from sucking me off?"

"I'm, uh- just as surprised as you are," Steve says, his voice a little scratchier than it was before. "I wasn't expecting to enjoy that as much as I did."

Fuck. Eddie forgot about this part. The part where Steve admits that he just wanted to see what it was like and figured Eddie was the perfect candidate for his little experiment. Eddie doesn't mind, really, not when this whole scenario has been kind of a dream come true, but that doesn't mean it's going to hurt any less.

They're interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by a rapid knocking on the door. "Steve! You in here? Eddie's stuff is here but we can't find him!"

Fucking Dustin.

"Yeah, me and Steve are here!" Eddie replies. "We're talking about something, I'll be down in a sec!"

Dustin gives a "Hurry up, man!" through the door, and Eddie shakes his head as he listens to him walk away. He stands and helps Steve move from the floor to the nearby desk chair.

"I'll, uh. Go grab you a towel," he says, and Steve nods.

Eddie quickly fixes his pants before heading to the bathroom across the hall. He splashes some water on his face to help get rid of the flush, then wets a washcloth while keeping an ear out for any wandering children. The coast seems to keep clear as he goes back, and a shiver runs down his spine at the sight of Steve, who had slipped off his bottoms while Eddie was gone.

Fuck, Eddie would love to get his mouth on that cock.

He passes Steve the cloth and just stands there as he wipes off his face, then his dick, unable to look away.

"So, uh. Where did that come from?" Eddie can't help but ask, his curiosity winning out over his self-preservation. Steve looks up at him and blushes, even the tips of his ears going pink.

"Um. Dustin was ranting to me last week, talking about how you're always so strict with everyone during your games, and he thought— Well, he thought if you got laid you might go easier on them."

Eddie blinks, absorbing the information for a moment. "Did he… ask you? To do this?"

Steve shakes his head and moves to the dresser to grab a clean pair of sweatpants.

"No, that was— that was all me. It just popped into my head, like Hey, I could do that, and it just wouldn't go away. I thought I could at least ask, and if you said no, then it wouldn't be a big deal."

So, it's exactly what Eddie thought. "Right. Yeah. You were just— trying it out with someone you know, got it." Eddie turns and pushes his hands into his hair, tugging on it a bit. Stupid pretty boys and their stupid eyes, making Eddie feel things when all he is is a placeholder, an experiment.

Steve makes a soft noise and grabs Eddie by the arm. Eddie relents as Steve turns him back around so he can look at him. "Eddie, that wasn't— Yeah, okay. I didn't really like, think about it before Dustin brought it up. But I know I like being around you, and I know I liked that, so maybe— If you like me, maybe you'd be willing to give me a shot?"

He looks so earnest, so hopeful, those hazel eyes wide and wanting. There's no world in which Eddie would even want to turn him down. Instead he takes Steve's hand and rubs his thumb over Steve's knuckles. "If I liked that, he says. Like it wasn't a fucking dream come true."

Steve breaks into a beaming smile and steps closer. "Oh yeah? Dream about that often?" he asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes a little even as he sways into Steve's space.

Cocky motherfucker.

"Do I dream about the hottest guy I've ever seen giving me a blowjob like he was made for it? Yeah, might have happened once or twice, baby."

Steve huffs and closes the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a chaste, achingly sweet kiss. Eddie hums into it and moves his free hand to Steve's hip, his fingers just slipping under the hem of his shirt. S

Before they can do anything more, a banging comes from the door behind them, along with an annoyed "Can you two hurry up?! We need to get started if we want to finish on time!"

Eddie makes a mental note to kill Dustin's character tonight as he turns, still holding on to Steve. "Have some fucking patience, Henderson! Go back downstairs before I make you roll with disadvantage all night!"

Dustin squawks a "What?! That's not fair!" and Eddie just rolls his eyes while Steve presses his face to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter.

"Now, Dustin!"

Dustin grumbles but stomps off, and Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's waist. "Something funny, Stevie?"

Steve shakes his head. "I just think it's funny that this whole thing happened because Dustin thought you were being too hard on them, but it's looking like you'll be even worse now."

"Oh yeah," Eddie says with a grin. He gives Steve another quick kiss and says "I'm gonna be a monster now, because instead of being up here kissing you, I have to go listen to them argue for hours."

"You love them," Steve counters, and yeah, Eddie does. "You better go before they decide to break the door down."

Eddie nods and reluctantly pulls away. "We, uh. We can talk more about this later, but for now— Boyfriends? Maybe?"

Steve beams and nods. "Yeah. Boyfriends. Now go have fun."

Edit: Inspiration post found!

[coquettepascal]

better than pregnant!

summary: you're about to get your period and hesitant to freak because of it. joel does not gaf and needs to get freaky with his beautiful girl. 

tags: 18+, smut, p no plot, established relationship, post-outbreak, jackson!joel, kind of not really period sex, thigh fucking, misuse of baby oil, reader is afab, use of "good girl," joel is a freak and he likes to freak you, humping i guess, cuteness at the end somewhat, yay for no babies.

a/n: drabble i wrote in under an hour because i really wanted to write a fic today but it's so hot that i'm dying and someone should kill me.

my masterlist - askbox

wc: 1.4k unedited no beta

“Are you sure? It might mess up the bedsheets,” you ask softly. Joel sighs and you feel it against your back, the puff of his chest pressing into you. He’s holding you from behind with his pajama pants rucked halfway down his legs. You lost your pajama shorts somewhere along the way, as well as your undies. 

You’re days, or maybe even a day, away from getting your period, and you’ve been super clingy. Sometimes your cycle comes and goes without issue, the only symptom being the fact you’re bleeding. But other times, like now, you’re achey, emotional, and frustratingly aroused. All night you’ve been laying in different positions in an attempt to soothe the pain that’s braided itself into your spine, only to find the warmth of Joel’s chest soothes it best. Joel could care less about your grouchiness though, he’s just happy to hold you. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s about to get his dick wet (kind of.)

“Baby you ain’t even on it yet,” he reminds you quietly. You watch his hands as they pop open the ancient bottle of baby oil, pouring it into his palm. Joel’s leg nudges yours and you shyly open your legs clamshell style. His hand cups you first, careful not to slide his fingers too deep into your slit. You’re sensitive in many ways right now, he doesn’t want to upset you or overstimulate you. 

“There you go. Just some oil, right? You wanna make me feel good?” 

His voice is quiet as he talks, pulling his hand away so he can pour more oil into his palm. Now he lathers your inner thighs with it, all while he presses kisses into the back of your neck. “So soft,” he says to himself, squeezing the plush inner of your left thigh. Joel truly adores you. He runs his hand up, cupping your core again, and you feel his erection throb against your lower back where it’s pressed. 

Breathing is tough as your chest shakes with need and anxiety. You’ve never done anything like this, not on your cycle, and so it feels… scary. Part of you wants to go “but what if you get blood on you?” But that’s never really been a problem for Joel, not as long as you’ve known him. It’s also probably a dumb question to ask when he’s already throbbing and half naked. Duh, he wants this. 

“You with me?” He asks as he shifts down the bed. Part of you feels a little distant right now, fascinated by the fact he’s so willing to do this with you. Staying grounded is difficult when the most attractive guy you know is about to stick his dick between your thighs and rut into the softness there, but you manage. You keep your eyes trained on the window, taking soft breaths, and Joel waits until you can confidently answer.

“Mhm,” is what you manage. Your hand comes up and reaches for the one near your head, attached to the arm that’s snaked beneath your neck. He squeezes it reassuringly, then readjusts. 

“Gonna use you nice,” is all you get to hear before his dick is shoved between your thighs. Joel’s pushing into the oiled softness with vigor, like he’s the one who’s sexually frustrated and unable to get fucked. You can see the head of his cock barely peek out with each thrust, watching as a sticky pearl of precome suddenly disappears as he plunges in and out. Joel is groaning, the arm wrapped around your torso grasping at anywhere but your tits, since he knows how sensitive they are right now. He keeps trying to talk but he can’t quite catch his breath. His face drops into the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing heavily out of his nose and onto your skin.

“Good girl, fuck,” he curses softly. The arm tucked beneath your head suddenly is yanked away as Joel uses it to prop himself up. This changes his angle signficantly, and instead of fucking into your thighs and just grazing your cunt, he’s fucking the head of his cock up into your slit. The tip awkwardly bashes your swollen clit at first and you whine in annoyance. He’s quick to catch on and eases his movements.

“Like that, Joel, that’s– mmh!” You cover your face with your hands. It’s so difficult to try and be sexy or dirty when you fear that you’re bleeding all over him. You know he’s going to pick up on it if you keep talking, so you just shut up. 

“Yeah babygirl? Like this?” He asks, grinding his hips up. His tip feels like it’s making out with your clit now. The sensitive nerves are slathered in a mixture of your wetness, his precome, and the babyoil, and it’s making for a deliciously slick mess. Joel pumps at a quick pace, remaining mindful of your sensitivity, but his energy and words are almost rabid.

“Makin’ me crazy earlier, kissin’ on me in the kitchen and then makin’ me sit through dinner.”

Oh, maybe that’s why he’s being so ravenous. 

“Thinkin’ that being near your period is gonna make me keep my hands off you.”

Blood rushes to the tips of your ears at that. It’s so easy to forget that Joel finds you sexy, not just beautiful. Here in bed it’s easy to remember. The way he’s desperately fucking his dick into your legs is more than enough proof that he is desperately attracted to you. Joel’s teeth press into your neck in slight hesitation, knowing he shouldn’t be too rough, but he lets them drag across your skin. 

“So fuckin’ wet, I can tell that isn’t just the oil.” Your cunt clenches on nothing as he talks more. Joel is such a fucking talker, you wish he spoke this much outside of the bedroom sometimes. Maybe he’s just a pervert though and that’s why he’s so quiet.

Your mouth opens slightly and drool starts to leak out as he becomes more intentful with his thrusts. He’s purposefully grinding the head of his dick into your clit at the end of each thrust. You can feel the thickness of his dick rubbing down your sensitive slit each time he’s done grinding and it only holds you in anticipation. Surprised noises keep leaving you, as if you’re not aware of the insatiable man behind you. It feels so much different than the usual sex that you have with him, it feels like he wants to ravage you, take you apart. 

“This take your mind off your back pain, baby? Just needed my dick?”

Your head nods weakly and you start to whine “yes,” repeatedly. It isn’t wrong, you have no clue if your back is hurting anymore, not when you’re right on the cusp of an orgasm. 

Joel’s nose is tucked behind your ear now, ensuring that you hear all the filth he’s spewing. Everything is so wet now, even your ass is somehow wet. His hips snap into you relentlessly as he starts to ask if you’re close and you have no words to answer. You’re beginning to get so wet you can’t feel anything at all, but finally he pushes at just the right angle and the ridge of his tip drags over your clit, sending you over. You gasp desperately, grabbing at the pillow beside your head as your body seizes up, shivering. Your thighs clamp down hard around Joel’s cock, sending him over too. The first spurts of come spill out from between your thighs, but then he pulls back and shoves himself back against your slit. His dick throbs as it coats your cunt in hot come, and your clit throbs right back against his tip. 

“Good, good girl,” Joel grunts as his arm collapses back into the bed. He lays back down on his side, careful not to move too much. There’s a lot of mess on the bed already, he doesn’t want to clean anymore than he’ll already have to. 

“Your back still hurt?” He asks after a moment. Back to sweet and caring, as if he wasn’t just a totally dirty mouthed perv. 

“No. Might need a shower though,” you tease. Joel huffs slightly, amused.

“Uh-huh. Me too.”

Joel pulls away from you very carefully, hissing as he grows soft and sensitive. You look over your shoulder cautiously, praying you don’t see red. 

One thin line of red is smeared on his shaft. You look up at him apologetically right away, but he’s smiling. 

“What? Are you laughing at me?” You ask worriedly. Your lungs feel small as you try to breathe away embarrassment. 

“No,” Joel grins, “S’just that this is better’n you being pregnant.”

--- <3 --- yayy thank u for reading. tagging some of my faves @evolnoomym @pascalssbabyy @mochamadeleines @joeloverture

[danysdaughter]

Please

pairing | congressman!bucky x gf!reader

word count | 3.6k words

summary | after a long day of political masks and quiet exhaustion, congressman barnes returns home to the only person who doesn’t ask him to perform—but demands his honesty. in your hands, he’s not a soldier, or a statesman—just a man unraveling, piece by trembling piece, begging to be seen, touched, claimed.

tags | (18+) MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, power play (soft!dom!reader), overstimulation, oral (m receiving), sub!bucky, begging, praise kink, soft dom/sub dynamics, reader comforts bucky, aftercare, post-orgasm clinginess, vulnerable bucky

a/n | based on this request. propaganda I won't be falling for: dominant rough bucky, please be for real, that man just wants to be taken care of and loved. also off for three days this week, so I'm in my writing element.

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

divider by @cafekitsune

The scent of garlic and thyme still lingered in the air, warm and soft like the steam curling from the stovetop. You stood barefoot in the kitchen, stirring one final pot, low flame flickering beneath it, your body relaxed, hips shifting slightly to the quiet music playing low from your phone.

The front door clicked open.

Your smile came without effort.

You didn’t have to look to know it was him—you felt it, the shift in the air, the slow exhale of someone finally crossing a threshold where they didn’t have to pretend anymore.

Boots first. Then the soft thump of a coat landing across the arm of the couch.

He didn’t say anything.

He never did, not right away.

You stayed facing the stove, letting him come to you on his own time.

A moment passed.

Then—arms.

One wrapped low around your waist, tugging you back gently into a solid chest; the other snaked across your stomach, anchoring you there. His body curved into yours like he hadn’t seen you in years.

His breath was warm against the side of your neck. A little uneven.

You leaned into it, tilting your head back just slightly, lips parting into a soft smile as your hand came up to rest over his forearm.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice curling with quiet affection.

He didn’t answer.

Just bent slightly to press his mouth to your shoulder, slow and heavy.

Your smile softened further.

Raising your free hand, you brushed his fingers where they rested on your stomach. “Dinner’s almost done,” you murmured. “Ten minutes.”

Still nothing.

Not from lack of care.

You could feel it—the way his grip tightened slightly, the way his breath caught on the inhale like he wanted to speak but couldn’t quite yet.

He didn’t need to.

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his jaw, light, lingering.

Then, softer:

“Rough day?”

You felt the sigh leave him before you heard it.

You turned slowly in his arms, the hem of your dress brushing against his thighs as you faced him. His grip didn’t loosen—if anything, it tightened, hands settling low on your back like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on just right.

Your arms came up around his neck, fingers sliding gently into his hair, nails grazing the back of his scalp just enough to make him sigh—deep, and low in his chest.

His eyes met yours then.

Tired. Heavy-lidded. Something behind them flickering—yearning, but buried under layers of restraint.

You leaned in and kissed his jaw. Once. Then again. Then slowly dragged your lips toward the corner of his mouth, your voice no louder than a hum.

“Talk to me,” you whispered, your words brushing his skin. “What do you need, baby?”

He didn’t answer right away.

But his hands curled tighter around your waist, fingers gripping like he could mold you to his chest. His head dipped slightly, forehead brushing yours, his breath shaky now—shaky in that rare way that only happened when everything he carried all day finally started to slip.

You left another kiss, just below his ear.

He swallowed.

Still no words.

But you could feel it now—how close he was to breaking.

His breath dragged unevenly against your cheek, warm and unsteady. His hands roamed your back like he didn’t know where to settle, like nothing was enough—not touch, not closeness, not even this space between you.

His lips grazed your skin—first at your cheekbone, then your jaw, trailing lower until they reached the column of your neck. There was no finesse to it, no seduction—just desperation in the way his mouth lingered, the way his breathing faltered like every second closer to you took something unbearable off his shoulders.

And then—

“Please,” he whispered.

You froze for just a breath.

The word landed soft but heavy.

He said it again, voice lower this time. Rougher.

“Please…”

His lips pressed into your skin again, then opened—teeth grazing just enough to feel, just enough to ache.

You didn’t answer.

You just let him come apart.

“Please, I…” He faltered, and one hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, gently, reverently. “I don’t—I don’t know what—”

His forehead dropped against your temple.

And again, like it was the only thing he could say—

“Please.”

You let out a slow breath against his neck, your lips brushing just under his jaw.

“Dinner can wait,” you murmured.

His whole body responded—barely perceptible, but you felt it. A tension releasing, just enough.

Your hand slid down to his chest, then lower, fingers lacing with his as you stepped back and gently pulled him with you—toward the couch.

He didn’t resist.

Didn’t say a word.

He followed, eyes glassy, lips parted, as if he were still caught between asking and needing.

You pushed him down with the barest pressure to his shoulders.

He sat.

Head tilted slightly back. Breath shallow. Hands on his thighs, like he didn’t trust himself not to reach for you.

You climbed into his lap, straddling him slow, your knees bracketing his hips, your dress sliding high over your thighs.

Your hands rested lightly on his chest.

He looked up at you like he was drowning and you were the only breath he had left.

Your voice came soft, controlled.

But your gaze burned.

“Tell me what you want, James.”

He blinked slowly. Swallowed. His jaw flexed—an instinctive resistance. Not because he didn’t want. Because he did, too much.

“I…” His voice caught.

You leaned in, lips barely brushing his.

“What do you need from me?”

He closed his eyes.

And whispered again—

“Everything.”

You didn’t answer him.

Not with words.

Your hands moved to his tie, slow and precise, fingers loosening the knot with the kind of care that made his breath hitch low in his throat. The silk slid free, and you dropped it beside the couch without looking.

His eyes stayed on you the entire time—wide, dark, needy—like he still didn’t believe you were really doing this, like at any second he might wake up back in some sterile committee room with nothing but cold coffee and colder stares.

You leaned in and kissed just beneath his ear.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing his skin.

Then you worked open the first button on his shirt.

Then the second.

Each one a soft sound in the quiet room.

You spread the fabric slowly, kissing the new skin you revealed—his collarbone, the line between his pecs, the edge of a scar near his ribs. Your mouth moved lower, your pace unhurried. Every press of your lips said I see you. Every graze of your fingers said you’re safe now.

You heard the exhale he gave—shaky, wrecked.

You undid his belt, but didn’t pull it off yet.

Not yet.

Instead, your palms smoothed up his chest as you kissed your way back up, until your mouth hovered just over his.

His hands still hadn’t moved. Still pressed to his thighs like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you.

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

Then whispered:

“Tell me what part of you needs me most.”

You felt him twitch beneath you—barely contained tension. His breath came shallow now, mouth parted, pupils blown wide as he stared up at you like you were unraveling him with nothing but silence and touch.

Your fingers slid down his chest again, tracing along the line of muscle to the open buttons of his shirt. You pushed the fabric further aside, exposing the skin beneath, then leaned down and kissed him again. Right over his sternum. Soft. Patient.

Another kiss, just beneath his ribs.

Then lower.

When your lips brushed the top of his beltline, you felt him tense, his thighs shifting under your knees. Still, his hands hadn’t moved—gripping his legs like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You raised your head, met his eyes.

Then, without a word, slid off his lap—slow, graceful.

You settled onto your knees between his legs, skirt pooling around you.

He watched you, breath catching.

Your palms pressed lightly to his thighs.

“Still waiting,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly. “You haven’t told me what part of you needs me most.”

His throat bobbed with a swallow. Hands trembling now.

You leaned in, lips grazing just over the fabric at his waist—not kissing, just hovering.

He let out a soft, helpless sound. A breath. A plea in the shape of a whimper.

You raised your eyes again, slow and deliberate.

“James,” you said, tone like a velvet knife, “I won’t give you what you want until you ask for it.”

He closed his eyes. His fists clenched. His whole body shook with restraint.

And then—

His voice cracked.

“Please,” he whispered. “Touch me. I need—fuck, I need your mouth, I need your hands, I need you.”

You smiled, slow and warm, before pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh.

“Good boy,” you breathed.

Your lips grazed the inside of his thigh again, slower this time, letting the warmth of your breath sink into his skin.

He let out a soft, broken sound—something between a sigh and a moan—his hips shifting just slightly under your hands.

Your hands moved with deliberate ease, undoing his belt with a soft clink, then sliding the zipper down slow enough to make him tremble. His hips jerked slightly as you pushed his slacks and briefs down just far enough, exposing him to the cool air—and to your gaze.

He was already hard, already flushed, already aching for you.

You didn’t rush.

No, that would be merciful.

You leaned in and kissed the crease of his thigh first. Then the base. Then, finally, the tip—barely a kiss.

He groaned like it hurt.

Your hand wrapped gently around the base, thumb brushing his skin with care. You stroked him once, slow, then again, watching his jaw tighten, his eyes fluttering as his hands finally moved—to the edge of the couch, gripping it like he was holding on for dear life.

You kissed him again. Then licked—slow, from base to tip.

His whole body arched just slightly, a soft gasp breaking past his lips.

“Fuck—” he whispered, nearly breathless.

You took him into your mouth then, warm and slow, your lips sealing around him like a promise. You didn’t rush. You savored. Let your tongue trace every inch, let your throat ease open for him bit by bit.

His hands fisted tighter on the couch.

And then—

One of them slid to your hair.

Not pulling.

Just holding.

Like he needed the contact, not the control.

You hummed around him, slow and deep, and felt him shake.

His voice was wrecked now, low and hoarse.

“God, you feel—so fucking good, I can’t—please don’t stop, don’t stop—”

You didn’t.

You devoured him.

Tender. Controlled. Ruthless.

And when he started to come—hips twitching, breath choking in his throat—you pulled back just slightly, letting your hand take over, your mouth moving to his stomach, kissing him softly as he pulsed in your palm.

He collapsed into it, body shuddering, voice a mess of your name and curses and gratitude.

When he finally opened his eyes, you were still there between his knees, looking up at him like he was the only thing in the world worth touching.

His chest was still rising and falling unevenly, skin flushed, hair mussed from where his hands had gripped his own thighs like restraint was the only thing keeping him grounded.

But the moment your hand released him—when your touch left his skin—he whined.

Not loudly.

Not desperate.

But helpless.

His hand tightened in your hair, not pulling—pleading. Eyes glassy, unfocused, begging without words.

And you knew.

You didn’t speak.

You rose slowly, still holding his gaze, and crawled into his lap—knee by knee, thighs sliding over his, your chest brushing his as you straddled him again. He sat back, legs parted beneath you, arms limp at his sides like the effort of holding back had gutted him.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

“You’re still not done, are you?” you whispered.

He shook his head slowly. “No—need more—I need all of you, I can’t—” His hands gripped your waist then, finally, anchoring himself in the curve of your body. “Please don’t stop touching me.”

You kissed his temple.

Then his cheekbone.

Your hands moved to undo the rest of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, baring more of him to the soft light. His body was hard, scarred, beautiful. And yours.

“Shh,” you murmured. “You’ve been so good for me. I’ll take care of you.”

You slid your hips against his, slow and deliberate, your heat grinding over him—slick, teasing, just enough to make him moan like it pained him.

His fingers dug into your skin.

“Let me inside,” he begged, voice cracking, “please—just let me feel you.”

You reached between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance—slow, slick, perfectly controlled.

And as you sank down on him, inch by inch, you felt him shatter beneath you.

His hands clutched at your hips, his breath caught, and the groan he let out was raw, needy—the sound of a man who had finally come home.

You didn’t rush.

You moved against him with the same sensual dominance as before—rolling your hips, rocking into him, letting him fill every inch of you until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to be without you.

“God,” he whispered, forehead pressed to your collarbone, “you’re everything, you’re everything—”

You cradled his head in your hands, your lips brushing his temple again.

And you fucked him like he was yours.

Because he was.

You rolled your hips over him in slow, deliberate waves, your hands splayed across his bare chest to steady yourself as he filled you—deep, stretching, perfect.

Every movement was controlled, sensual, designed to keep him right at the edge, trembling under the weight of every soft sound you coaxed from his mouth.

He buried his face against your neck, his lips moving with quiet desperation over your skin. Please. More. Don’t stop.

You could feel his body trying to surge upward, to chase the pace—but your hands pushed him back, gently but firmly, pinning him to the couch.

“Let me,” you whispered, breath hot against his ear. “You just feel.”

He exhaled hard through his nose, fingers flexing against your hips like he was trying not to fall apart right there. But he didn’t fight it. He couldn’t. Not when the way you rode him made his whole body tremble.

Your movements were slow, intoxicating, building rhythm with the kind of unbearable patience that made him clutch at you, chest rising fast, soft curses breaking from his throat.

“I—fuck, I’m gonna—” he gasped, head dropping back against the couch.

You slowed even more.

His eyes flew open, panicked, begging.

“No,” he groaned, “please don’t stop—don’t stop—”

You leaned forward, hands sliding up his chest, your mouth hovering just above his. “Look at me.”

He did.

Wide-eyed. Flushed. Open.

“This is mine,” you whispered, rolling your hips harder once, your walls tightening around him.

He cried out, breath shattering.

“You’re mine.”

His hands gripped your waist so hard it bordered on desperate.

“Yes—yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, I—please—”

You kissed him then.

Not gently.

Not softly.

You took his mouth the way you took his body—completely.

He moaned into you, bucking once, twice—then came with a shudder that wracked his whole frame, his arms pulling you tight against his chest as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You didn’t stop moving.

Not yet.

You drew out every second of it—rocking him through the pleasure, letting him come down only when his voice went soft and his grip loosened, trembling with the aftershocks.

When you finally stopped, your forehead rested against his, your breathing just as uneven now—his name still warm on your lips.

And all he could say, again and again, was:

“Thank you. Thank you. Fuck, I love you.”

You didn’t let him breathe for long.

Before the shudders even fully left his body, you kissed him again—deeper, hungrier, lips parting to take the end of his moan into your mouth. You drank the sound like it was his confession. Your tongue met his, slow and sure, dragging every unspoken word out of him.

He tried to speak again—tried to say thank you, maybe, or I love you again—but the words never made it out.

Because your lips left his mouth and moved to his throat, and your tongue found the line just under his jaw.

He gasped, head falling back, throat bared completely as your mouth claimed him there.

Your tongue was slow, deliberate—possessive as you licked and sucked the skin, not enough to bruise, but enough to make him tremble beneath you. Your name slipped from his lips again, broken, aching.

“Please,” he whimpered again, not even knowing what he was begging for now.

He twitched beneath you, and without thinking—completely overstimulated—he thrust upward once, sharp and needy, hips bucking into the tight heat he was still buried in.

The sound he made was desperate—half-pleasure, half-pain.

You moaned softly into his throat, hips grinding down in response.

“You’re still hard for me,” you whispered, tongue curling around the words against his skin. “Even now.”

His hands spasmed at your hips, as if to say he didn’t mean to. As if to say he couldn’t help it.

You pulled back just enough to look down at him.

His eyes were half-lidded, cheeks flushed, mouth still parted.

“Again?” you asked, voice low and devastatingly soft.

He nodded—tiny, helpless.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” he whispered hoarsely. “I just need to feel you.”

Your nails dragged slowly down his chest, watching him flinch under the burn of your touch. He was still trembling, still gasping softly, the overstimulation rippling through every muscle—but his cock was hard inside you again, pulsing with that unbearable need neither of you had put to rest.

You braced your hands against his chest and rolled your hips once—deep and slow, enough to make him groan, deep in his throat, as his hands clutched at your thighs.

“F-fuck—” he choked, eyes squeezing shut.

His head tilted back against the couch cushions, neck exposed, jaw clenched. Sweat beaded at his temple, his lips red and swollen from your earlier kisses.

You moved again.

Harder this time.

And his hips jerked in response, the sound he made somewhere between a cry and a moan, like he didn’t know if he could take it or if he’d beg for more.

“You’re not done,” you whispered darkly, leaning down, as you kissed him again—this time biting his bottom lip until he gasped. “You said you wanted everything. So give me everything.”

His hands gripped your ass now, digging into the soft curve of you as he tried to meet your rhythm—uneven, wrecked, raw.

You rode him hard now, hips slapping into his, your body taking what it wanted—what it owned. His head lolled, his moans breaking with each thrust, and every time your name left his mouth it sounded like devotion.

“Please—God, please, I’m not—I can’t—” he stuttered, voice hoarse and trembling.

You caught his face between your hands, made him look at you.

“Look at me,” you hissed, rolling your hips even deeper, grinding down until he gasped. “Come for me again.”

And he did.

Harder than before—his whole body convulsing, back arching as he groaned your name like it was the only word he knew, clinging to you like he’d come apart without you holding him together.

You didn’t let him go.

You stayed on top of him, breath heavy, your forehead pressed to his, his arms tight around your waist.

He was shaking.

Ruined.

Yours.

His body was trembling beneath you, drenched in sweat and breathless, his chest rising and falling in uneven, desperate pulls. His hands still gripped your hips, but there was no strength left in them—just the ghost of that need that had burned through him moments ago.

You softened your hold on him, slowly leaning forward, pressing your chest to his, and wrapping your arms gently around his shoulders. His forehead dropped to your collarbone, face buried in your skin, every breath he took brushing warm against the hollow of your throat.

“Shh…” you whispered, lips against his temple. “That’s it. You’re okay.”

He didn’t speak.

He couldn’t.

You felt the way his hands clutched you tighter—just a little. As if he needed the reminder that you were still there, that this was real, that he wasn’t lost somewhere inside his own head.

You rocked your hips once, gently, just enough to keep him grounded.

“Such a good boy,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair.

He let out a shuddering exhale, something like a sob tucked beneath it—but it wasn’t from sadness.

It was release.

The kind no one else ever let him have.

You kissed the side of his head. “You gave me everything. Just like I asked.”

His arms slid around your waist now, clinging to you fully, his face still pressed to your skin like it was the only safe place he knew.

“Just breathe,” you whispered, one hand stroking down his back. “You don’t have to say anything. Just stay right here.”

He nodded once.

And for a long while, there was no more need. No words. Just the two of you tangled together—his body finally still, his breath finally even, your warmth the only thing tethering him back to peace.

[sacrificiallane]

smut ﹙ too sweet ❞ Percy Jackson

cw ! heavy makeout / dry humping / allusion to giving head / very sweet !

"I love you ," kiss, "love you ," kiss, "gods ―"

Percy Jackson speaks pretty nonsense when your plush lips trail further and further down his body. He swears this is his Elysium ― pushed into his sea themed sheets and getting utterly loved by you.

"So, so good to me, pretty girl ." And you live by his constant praise.

Only in his blue boxers he's literal putty under your teasing hands, as your mouth trails a path over each of his freckles, seemingly forming constellations with just your sweet mouth on him.

It's muscle memory when his hips lift off the bed, trying to get even more friction from how easily your making out had turned into... this.

Your lips easily find the rough patch of his happy trail, and Percy stutters a little in his breathing. He is closing his eyes in anticipation, his fingers already finding space in your hair.... and then ―

― and then your mouth quickly moves back up, almost as if you're rushing to get back into familiar territory. It's the only indication he needs, to know that you're not just merely trying to tease him.

His sea green eyes slowly flutter open again, and Percy tries to find his thoughts somewhere that isn't tugged under his waistband.

His voice is all hazy when his eyes connect with yours again.

"You scared to go lower ?"

And his question was so genuine ― you wanted to cry. He wasn't being pushy, and nothing in his tone suggested that he was disappointed or upset. No, your boyfriend was genuinely checking in with you, to see if you were okay with all this.

He then found your gaze turn a bit sheepish, almost... shy, as you slowly nodded your pretty head at him. "Uhm, yea," he heard you whisper, and a flush overtook your features, "it's scary down there. I don't know what to do with... all that ."

Oh. Oh !

Percy can't even stop himself from snorting a bit at your answer. Leave it to his partner, to describe his most sensitive part as 'scary'. He finds it all too sweet, too!

Of course, there was barely anything you could do 'wrong' with it, in his mind, anyway. But Percy is the last person to push you into something you aren't completely comfortable with.

The guy would happily just let you kiss him silly, if that's all you're comfy with!

"Sweetheart," his gaze softens at your admission, and his thumb softly brushes over your cheek, just to see you look less worried about his reaction. "That's totally fine," he hums, and watches you closely, "we can try some other time. Or we can never try again. Whatever you'd like. I'm happy when you’re happy, honestly."

But it's the way you tell him that you totally don't want to stop this completely ! You have urges too, after all. So Percy finds himself greedily licking into your mouth, until further thoughts just melt away. He's quick to flip the both of you over, hovering above you, all while making pretty little sounds of pleasure that mingle with your own.

His body molds perfectly against your own, and a roll of his hips is enough to leave you dumb. Your lips are all shiny and swollen when he's done with devouring your face, and a lopsided smile splits over his lips that make your tummy flutter. He's on you before you can even take a moment to breathe, already thrusting ― gentle, slow ― against your clothed most sensitive part.

You're so overwhelmed by his sheer gentleness, that your own hips desperately buckle against his ! And Percy can only watch in awe as your legs open wider for him, as to beckon him even closer.

He doesn’t need you to suck his dick! No, Percy prefers you just like this … sprawled open and eager for him to take care of you.

Your hand seeking out his own, is enough to have his own stomach flutter. He is quick to interlock his fingers with yours, pressing them into the mattress right beside your head and keeping them there ...

And Percy is almost embarrassed at how much he is really leaking through his boxers. It creates a wet squelching patch right where his tip keeps rubbing into your clit, and the mere sight of such has him less embarrassed and even more eager to make you both feel good.

His eyes quickly find yours again, knowing that you need just a bit more coaxing to really find your peak like this. "It's okay pretty girl," the son of Poseidon coos gently, closely watching your facial expression. He knows you're close.

You swallow thickly, not able to look anywhere else but him. His muscles move with his trusting, making you all dizzy with how much you love him ! How good he makes you feel, too. "Perce ―" your breath hitches when your walls flutter around nothing. You're so, so close, yet not quite there yet ...

"I know, I know." Your little whine makes his hand tighten around your own, has his hips grind harder against your clothes pussy, because he is right there with you !

When his hand comes down to press and rub over the fabric of where your sweet clit is hidden underneath, is when you find yourself finally falling apart ...

𓂃 🖊 more .

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[emmyrosee]

Yk I'm really starting to miss bugging kiyoomi...

“Do you think if I lived inside your skin I’d be able to move your arms and legs?”

“I wish you’d stop saying things, sometimes.”

Despite his sigh of exhaustion, Kiyoomi smirks at your words, his sleepy eyes closed with his lashes on his cheeks. He’s minutes away from falling asleep in your arms, his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat, but you’re feeling a little too playful for your own good.

You move a hand to gently cradle the back of his head, fingers gently playing with the rings of his curls, “I’m just saying; I’m always saying how I want to live inside your skin. I’m just figuring out logistics.”

“Do I get to move them when I want to?” He asks.

You ponder for a moment, then hum, “you can, but I feel like you’d trust my judgement enough to let me move you, and you’d never have to move again.”

“No, because then, I’d never go anywhere,” he snickers. “You’d keep me in bed with you all day, and as delightful as that sounds, it’s not sustainable.”

You go quiet, and when he pops an eye open to look at you, you’re pouting. True, genuine pouting, and he clicks his tongue and angles his head to look at you, chin resting on your sternum. "angel. Come on."

You huff and reach over for your phone, seemingly now done with the conversation, "whatever."

"You're going to look me in the eyes and tell me you'd let me get up and go to work and not keep us contained to the bed forever? Since when?"

"It doesn't matter," you grumble. "Just say you hate me and move on."

That does it. Immediately, Kiyoomi pounces up on his hands and knees, hovering over you. You gasp at his sudden burst of energy, barely fighting him as he takes the phone from your hands and moves it to the side. His hair shags around his face, almost like a halo, and you fight the urge to hook the ringlets behind his ear. "First of all- first of all:" he puckers his lips out dramatically for a kiss, which you do give him, "I love you a filthy, disgusting, but not embarrassing amount because I could never be embarrassed by being in love with you." That has you smiling. "Secondly," he reaches to hold your hands, "look me in the eyes and say 'I, as a future Sakusa, swear that if I lived in my husband's skin, I would not keep him in bed all the time.' And then I'll believe you."

You giggle softly at his silliness, but ultimately don't say anything. No answer is his answer. He chuckles, "that's what I thought."

"That's not fair!" You giggle. "You're telling me if you lived in my skin, you wouldn't stay in bed forever?"

"Of course I would, but I'm not supposed to tell you that."

You laugh and angle your head up to kiss him, gently resting your head on your bundle of fingers, "at least we're on the same page."

"Yeah," he grins. "I'm glad."