#...i should've shaded his leggings

[raveartts]

He sit

[wyvernest]

soft s3x and grey sweats

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, tooth rotting fluff, miguel wears grey sweatpants, soft and loving sex, domesticity, unprotected piv

summary: miguel ft. grey sweatpants

A gentle drizzle splatters on the windows of your bedroom, tapping its soft, irregular crystal drops onto the glass only to wake you from your blissful nap.

You had fallen asleep with your head on his chest, invaded by the warmth of his body next to yours, the fascinating feeling of being home with him. You couldn't ever dare to ask for more than that.

With a spine-bending stretch, you step out of the cosiness of the king-sized bed following the realisation of his absence. Leaping down the stairs, you seek the comfort of him being near you like a throat-gripping vice.

You hear the water running, occasionally overlapped by clattering, dishes clanking and drawers being pushed shut.

You step out into the hall of your open-concept kitchen, linen stockings preventing even the subtlest noises of your movements from reaching him through the ambiance.

Your weight on the wooden floor is merely a gust of wind as you sit yourself into the corner of the sofa in order to watch him from up close.

You hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to adapt to the temperature change of the room, your flimsy top and panties doing little in covering your middle.

He hasn't turned to you since you hopped off the stairway. Arrogance tugs at the furthest corner of your mind after having sneaked behind his hyper vigilance, completely unnoticed. You seize the opportunity to study him in the absence of his piercing gaze fixed upon you.

Your eyes linger over the expanse of his broad back, the navy blue, short-sleeved shirt creasing in thin, cascading lines over his shoulder blades as he shifts his weight to his right, bicep bulging when he stretches his hand up into a cupboard.

You're more than delighted to note the easiness with which he attains things normally out of your reach.

Not only once did you call for his help to get you something from any place higher above you, having him stand behind you when doing so, and without fail him making sure to push his groin up against your ass in the process, prompting you to bend just slightly forward onto the board or sink in front of you before the simplest request for aid turned into you, taking him against any surface around the house.

It became quite the signal after a while. Whenever he heard you, 'Miguel! Come here for a second, baby’, his cock would fatten in advance at the sound of the command.

"Should've stayed upstairs, muñeca. I was making something for you." he snaps you out of your reverie, the sleepy raspiness in his voice deliciously running late over the last syllables of his remorseful disfavour.

While still not facing you, it turns out he was well-aware of your presence.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just watch." you excuse yourself, draping your midriff over the armrest, hands supporting your head on the soft cushions as you thaw at the sight of him cooking for you.

He returns to the kitchen island, his index finger mindlessly following the instructions he was mentally revising, before his eyes find you on the couch, scanning every patch of skin you have on display, as if sizing you up for his dessert.

He allows his vision to wash over your silky smooth thighs, your waistline that moulds into the hill of the pillows, the exact same way it moulds so erotically against him when he pistons his hips into yours.

With your pleading gaze inviting, thighs squeezed together in frustration, he is unsure of what to finish next, the pancakes, or you.

Your attention drops to the chubbed, prominent curve of his stiffening cock in his sweatpants, the shade of it nearly obscenely large, evident on the grey fabric. His hand slips down his crotch, lazily palming his dick through the material. You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, yearning growing unbearable.

"I have to let it rest. I'm all yours now." he suggests smugly, and part of you suspects that he had been needing to take you since you decided to flutter your eyes shut on the bed, arms coiled around his waist.

You shamelessly keep your eyes on target as he sets the dough bowl aside, approaching you with a heaviness in his pace that you know oh so well.

His dick twitches ever so slightly in his pants, hardening until its outline becomes lewdly evident, straining upwards into his pants in all its length and girth that ruptures you unforgivingly whenever he stuffs himself inside you.

Before he can even reach the sofa, your eager hands clutch his waist, feeling the rigid muscles underneath his shirt as you start planting gentle kisses down his abdomen, having him shudder at the contact even through the cotton fibre.

Your soft breasts meet his bulge in the process, offering nothing more than a few mere brushes that only rile him up more than he had hoped.

He drops his weight next to you on the cushions as the only way to avoid the urge to pull his cock out and shove it down your throat through your pretty, plush lips. He opts to rest his head back on the pillows, legs spread wide in front of him, taking up nearly all the space next to you.

Not a single moment is wasted before you take his cheeks in your hands, fingertips grazing his rough, barely visible stubble, pressing rushed, obsessive kisses all over his face.

You slide one leg over his, seeking the pressure of his broad, firm thigh to your clothed cunt.

His own hands are quick to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him, your chest flattened on his. His lips find yours through your loving pecks, deepening the kiss he caught you with, swiftly interrupted by a soft gasp of yours the second your ass meets his boner.

You teasingly lower yourself onto him gently, revelling in the feeling of the tip pressing harshly into the thin fabric of your panties.

Letting your hand travel down his firm chest, down his abdomen and over the sizable bulge in his sweatpants, you cup him through the material, applying just enough pressure to coax a groan out of his throat.

His wide thighs involuntarily flex on your sides and he twitches in your hand, a reminder of his force, his size in comparison to you, his ability to have you any time he wanted despite the position, despite your teasing.

His head leans back on the couch exposing his throat, eyes dazed out and fixed on the view of your breasts peeking from under your crop, visibly satisfied with the angle he found. Your boobs, round and soft, ever so inviting for him to knead in his large hands, he thinks.

Warm palms leave your hips to slide up your waist, disappearing under the cotton shirt, idly groping your chest.

You reel at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands on your smooth skin, touching and fondling in all the right places.

His knuckles protrude every now and then through the thin textile as he keeps massaging your breasts, feeling your pulse quicken with each deep breath you take.

Before you can even decide on your next move, you feel the blistering warmth of a splayed out hand on your back, propping you gently as he tilts you to the side, a familiar bow of such a dirty dance that has your thoughts melting out of your brain, your whole existential purpose being resumed to him alone in a matter of seconds.

He lays you down over the length of the couch with such care, such strength that has you submitting mindlessly, wrapping your frail arms around his neck. Legs up in the air, he has you just like he always does. Your blood boils through you, the ignition of nerves only he could ever cause.

He descends upon you, veiling your entire body in his, hands eagerly running over your body, playing you like an instrument that only sings for him, that only he can hold.

You sigh, taking in the scent of him, letting it invade your lungs like inhalants. The visceral musky cologne, with shades of a pine forest that had your thoughts run wild and senses sharpened.

Half lidded eyes accentuate his savagely, crimson irises and dilated pupils, the sheer sight of you under him never ceasing to rile him up bad enough to make him beg for your touch.

You squirm weakly; quickly enough he takes the hint and hooks his thumb around your panties, dragging them down your soft skin, impatience evident in his movements.

You feel the weight of his hard cock on your thigh, head going dizzy at the thought of its girth stretching you open, the thought of the pained groans that crawl out of his throat when he comes, his dick pulsating inside you.

He stills above you, eyes darting over your face, as if searching for something he had just remembered he was missing, a gaze condimented with adoration, curiosity, and a hesitancy you may only interpret as astonishment.

"No puedo creer que seas mía" (”Can't believe you're mine.”) he mutters, barely above a halted whisper, following the realisation of your rather perplexed demeanour when confronted with such antics. ”Makes me think that maybe", he pauses, "pushing through all the shit in my life made me worthy of you.”, he confesses, vulnerable and wounded.

You've caught smudges of this view of his before, only not this categorical. In a way, you find it quite the most heartwarming yet peculiar thing there is to know about him. He seeks the comfort of believing that all the suffering he endured meant something, a sacrificial lamb for him to ultimately earn the limitless love of your embrace, your affections and unwavering devotion.

It wasn’t pride that clawed at his memories of having conquered and survived when so many others didn’t in the same circumstances he faced. It was relief, the relief of a man that swam the ocean to find paradise.

And there you were, silk-smooth, gentle hands cupping his face with such infatuation he did not think possible, looking up at him like there wasn’t anything more beautiful in existence you would rather see.

His heart had inevitably melted into yours; now soldered together against all odds fate could bestow.

”I love you, Miguel. With or without your scars.”, you pull him into a reassuring, promise-sealing kiss, which he softly reciprocates, regaining his confidence and unyielding want.

His lips ghost over your jugular, relishing in the way your exhales halt in your throat, pausing in expectancy as his hot breath excites goosebumps over the satin skin of your exposed neck.

”I love you more.” he teases, lips latching onto your pulse point, lightly sucking hungry kisses down to the valley where your throat meets your shoulder.

Despite knowing how adamant you were about your own love being immeasurable, let alone any lesser than his, he took great joy in dramatically rivalling you on the matter, beclouding your fondness only to start a competition of who manages to sway the other with their words of pure worship and fidelity.

Whether there was another underlying reason for his racing I love you more’s, you do not know. Maybe a reminiscence of his mistrustful, defensive nature, reflecting its last slither of bewilderment into a seemingly innocent insistence that he, indeed, loved you more than you loved him.

How could he not? You had no knowledge of the things he had to do for his job, what it truly meant to risk everything for someone, to risk your life for another.

And he prefers it this way, to have you shielded away from the horror of finding yourself in that situation, from the heartbreak of even imagining the circumstances in which you may decide to give your life for him in all your passion, let alone pondering upon the choice and place the verdict upon your declaration of love, weighing it down in all gravity and seriousness of the pledge. In the depths of his mind, he dreads it, hearing you say, ‘I love you, I would give my life for you’, although he would do so for you without thinking twice.

He dreads knowing that his presence in your life could scar you so that you may have to die for him, that his soul alone could be stained in your blood, even only in hypothesis.

Therefore, he feels far more content thinking that you don’t quite love him as much, thinking that you, as perfect as you are, would not suffer should anything happen to him. That your attachment to him will only ever bring you nothing but joy.

And oh how he brought you joy. Pure bliss and paradisiacal rapture. Even more so when he held you so dearly against him, painting you in doting kisses, marks of which linger on your skin long after he’s departed.

His warm, broad hand sails down over the plushy mound of your breast, indulging in a layover just to squeeze lightly. To drift below; its tender, round shape fitting in the junction between his thumb and index finger; his palm seemingly continuing its travel down your waist before returning unexpectedly, massaging your soft tit after a run down and up your waist, making the butterflies in your belly grow agitatedly.

The meagre shudders of your body underneath his unpredictable and exciting touch, the silent whines that die in your throat as he kisses down the crook of your neck have his cock twitching in his pants, beads of precum gathering on the flushed tip, staining the material. You feel the unmistakable length of it poke your thigh, hard and thick.

"Eres tan buena conmigo" (”You’re so good to me.”) he breathes deeply, voice hoarse with restraint, lacing his words with a poised thread that wraps around your neck, earning him a fractured moan. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

Grabbing onto his massive shoulders for support, delighted with the way his muscles ripple under your soft hands as he continues his attack on your most sensitive spots he knows so well, you press your leg tentatively into his hard-on, an unspoken, considerate request for him to cease the teasing and chase his own pleasure.

“I want you”, you whisper breathily, finding your voice on the last word, accentuating the singularity of your need, the force with which you crave him, only him. “I love you, Miguel, I wanna make you happy.” you declare desperately, planting another suffocating kiss on his slightly agape lips, having him gasp softly into your mouth, a killer whale surfacing above the waterline for a superficial breath before diving back into the depths of the ocean.

He kisses you with such ardour, savouring the addictive taste of your delicate lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth like you hadn’t seen each other for months, like one of those desperate days in which he has his way with you right after he returns from a bone-chilling mission throughout the multiverse.

After ending the kiss with an unnecessarily harsh smooch, he draws back, making you giggle through unrelenting panting. He scans your face, absorbing the image of you, in your most defenceless self, so full of what can only be adoration for him.

He takes in your half-lidded, love-struck eyes, the look he thinks not even the bestest of painters of the world could capture on canvas. The look he thinks would be perverted in blasphemy should it be, even in attempt, recreated on any portrait, any sculpture, any photograph.

He follows the line of your jaw that cascades sharply into the crook of your neck, the only safe place for him to lay his head at night, the place he reveres to place the sweetest of kisses upon, having you either laugh or melt in his arms.

His vision then lands on your sore lips, exhaling the very air he breathes, uttering the same words that echoed in his head out in the field; ‘I love you, truly, entirely and through my whole being. With my body, heart and soul, oh, I love you.’

He dips his head down your waist in reverence, leaving gentle pecks down the line of your stomach. In any other instance, you would giddily chuckle at his ministrations, a chuckle that would soon turn into a hearty burst of laughter, as he knew just the spots to touch and tickle and make you reel in retaliation when play-fighting on a particularly lazy Sunday evening.

However, now, there was no impulse to laugh. You watch him closely as he reaches the crease of your pelvic bone, looking up to meet your gaze.

You feel your face heat up at the sight of him, a strong hand wrapped around your thigh, the other holding your middle.

Satisfied with the moans he successfully drove out of you, breaths getting heavy at the thought of how wet you have to be by now, he sits up on his knees to hurriedly haul his shirt over his head.

His dick grows harder at the familiar picture of you, laid back on the sofa, eyes glazed with drunken want and the remembrance of his feverish touch on you.

Letting your hands roam his chest and firm abdomen while he disposes of the shirt, you curl your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, carefully dragging them down his bulky thighs, eyes widening as his cock springs upwards from the grey fabric, hitting his stomach before ever-so-slightly bending to the right under its generous weight.

You let yourself fall back into the cosy corner of the couch, parting your legs with lascivious speed while watching him stroke his now glistening cock, eyes trained on yours.

A vigorous, bulging forearm anchors next to your head, the other guiding himself inside you. His mountainous shoulders block any view of the room aside from him, and you obey the impulse to run your hands over his biceps, his pecs, his jaw.

You draw in a sharp breath at the contact of his fat tip on your wet folds, rubbing into the dampness at the entrance before breaching you.

You whimper softly, trying to adjust. No matter how many times you have sex, it always takes you time to adapt to his size, to fit him inside you to the hilt.

His forehead rests against yours as he pushes further in, a gentle hand coming to collect a few unruly strands of hair from your face. It stops to cup your fiery, rosy cheek, his thumb grazing your dainty skin protectively, soothingly, before his arm docks symmetrically to the other, beside your head to balance his weight on top of you.

Your tear-welled eyes flutter shut, the dip between your brows deepening and rising into an unspoken plea for a one-second pause. He stops, knowing of your struggles despite your fervent insistences that he may always bottom out regardless of your aches.

He cannot bring himself to cause you discomfort in any way, even under the greenlight of your sincere consent.

“I know, love, I’m sorry.”, he pacifies you, and you’re overwhelmed by his attentive care, starting to rain messy, fatigued kisses over each patch of skin on his face within reach. He returns the gesture in earnest, covering your features in slow smooches.

It calms you, allowing him to push all the way inside your tight cunt, grunting into your temple as you tense around his shaft the moment his tip presses against your cervix.

A loud sigh that swiftly leaves your agape mouth tells him to proceed. His hips start gyrating languidly, his dick exits you only halfway, coated in your juices, before driving back in with a quiet squelch. You throw your head back on the pillows, legs coiled securely around his waist as he makes love to you, laying you onto a cloud of pleasure.

"Ugh, oh-," he groans, his voice deep and rugged, mirroring his own mind-numbing bliss, “you feel so good”. With his head now leaned into your chest, his heavy breaths are hot on your skin, timed with the drive of his hips into yours.

He starts going faster, yet the force of his thrusts still soft. The second he finds the puffy nub of nerves that snaps firecrackers in your lower belly, you grab at the mattress, gasping and moaning weakly. Muted whines are put out in your throat as you close your mouth to swallow a kiss your body had craved to give him.

His shoulders flex under his weight as he picks up more speed, nearing his high and finding the rhythm you know only leads to those desperate grunts that have you coming only from their sound alone.

He pushes into his thrusts, rubbing the coarse hair above the base of his cock on your clit. Your back contorts and arches in response, gifting him an even more delicious angle for the precise rolls of his hips.

You choke on a pained scream that dissolves into your limbs as you come hard, your orgasm washing over you in drumming tidal waves, crashing onto you with every drive of his fat cock into your soft, drenched cunt.

"Oh-- ugh, yeah- so good," he groans into your rose, kiss-marked neck, seemingly taken aback by the force of his own euphoria, as if he had been expecting a gentle current of ecstasy as result of his intendedly soft and gentle session of lovemaking, instead being met a fierce jolt of elation. He stills, holding a breath from erupting out of his throat into a shaky moan.

The bridge of his nose is pressed perfectly into your neck, a sculpture-worthy puzzle of two souls sewn together. His hot palm seeks the feeling of your smooth skin, landing shy of your waist, holding you against him with the firmness of a man who heeds every longing you had ever voiced, who heeds the closeness you had always coveted as you rode the rapids of your orgasm.

The pressure hammers into you in aftershocks, hauling you back down in fading flutters, pulsing into your lower belly as he tenses, pushing his hips flush against your ass with one final blow, releasing into the warmth of your cunt.

You clench faintly at the feeling of his fat cock spasming and twitching inside you, catching on to the last gust of your high.

He groans in oversensitivity, pulling out before carefully placing his broad hand in between your thighs, tenderly cupping your dripping pussy to prevent his come from staining the peppered grey couch. You flinch at the contact, not having fully recovered from the stimulation.

He leans into you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You turn to him instinctively, unable to find your voice or enough strength in your arms to do anything but gaze up at him with the face he knew so well; the euphoria-painted face you grace him with when his love overflows your body, teeming into your watery eyes.

Sitting up, he unpacks a thin, white blanket from the opposite edge of the sofa, cocooning you into the clean, fresh fabric. You hum in comfort, struggling to chase the warmth of his arms as he tucks the edges of the material underneath the contour of your body.

”Just stay here for a bit.”, he whispers into your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “ I‘m almost done with your surprise.”

“You want me to help?” you resort to a last-chance inquiry in hopes of finding an excuse to sit beside him for longer, even in the kitchen.

He knows you’re well-intended, but decides to better value the total credit of his courteous offering.

You will most certainly keep the stakes up and stubbornly get dinner ready for him on the very next occasion you find, so he might as well echo your stubbornness and finish his task alone, meeting great satisfaction in spoiling you with the opportunity your body has given him.

“No te preocupes, (Don't worry.) I’ll manage.”

You dramatically reach for him with your extended arms as he heads towards the kitchen. He throws you a sympathetic smile before resuming his cooking, fully aware that a considerable part of him would have wanted nothing more than to rush back into your arms and spend the rest of the evening smothering you into his warm embrace, play fighting you into submitting to his self-indulgent caresses and kisses.

divider by @cafekitsune

spanish translations by @bookished 🤍(tysm!!)

50% requested by @badbitchhour (ik u wanted a wedding night but my brain short-circuited when i tried to write it, it's still coming tho!!! meanwhile made the very soft and emotional lovemaking part til i get around it and start feeling it)

a/n: don't pick on me for the extremely creative! title i wanted to make shit clear from the start. (clickbaiting)

also smut authors try not to use the same words and phrases for every sex scene without using things like 'wand' and 'shaft' (challenge impossible)

[jiminiecrickets]

jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2.2k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, handjobs, praise, shower sex

"you agreed. you pinky-promised. was what you wrote really that bad?"

he shifts on the couch, tucking his feet up to his chin and hiding his face behind it. his face is a very, very dark shade of red. "it's awful. horrible. you'll break up with me if you read it."

"then why'd you write it down in the first place?"

"i don't know!" he whines. "i was feeling brave!"

you set down the controller. on the large flat-screen tv, your characters circle the mario kart track behind the scoreboard. waluigi, jungkook's character, throws a tantrum in his race-car. "give me the paper."

"you'll hate me."

fourth place. fourth place. he can't believe himself. your name is highlighted at the top, neatly settled in first place. he'd been so comfortable, in the lead for the entirety of the match, and his big ego decided that an 'all or nothing' pity round would come out in his favour.

as quick as lighting, you snatch the crumpled ball of paper and unfold it, slapping jungkook's panicked hands away. your brows furrow deeper the longer you look at it.

"you're right. you were feeling brave."

jungkook slumps against your shoulder, his face pinched in embarrassment. "please don't think badly of me because of it, hyung..."

lowering the torn corner of paper, you ask softly, "would you like to do this with me, kookie? i'm interested."

his head shoots up. "what? are you serious?"

"no, i'm batman." he rolls his eyes with a huff and you grin, eyes crinkling as you pull him into your side. "yes, i'm being serious. thank you for telling me – i would never have expected something like this out of my cute little boyfriend."

if possible, his pout intensifies. he crosses his arms over his knees, staring determinedly ahead at the game. "'m not little."

you hush him, tilting his face towards you and pressing a long kiss to those pretty pink lips. he hums breathily, leaning into you with a hand on your chest. he whines quietly when you finally pull away for air, his chest heaving as he blinks at you with wide, dark eyes.

"seven days," he whispers, leaning in and throwing his leg over your lap, caging your thighs with his own. he rocks his hips slowly, savouring your low groan of pleasure. "seven days to fuck me whenever and wherever you want. that's your prize, baby – don't waste it."

eyeing his body hungrily, you grin like a beast unchained. you cradle his tiny waist, and playfully, you lift your hand against it, comparing sizes. "oh, darling, i'm not letting a single inch of you go unloved."

he nibbles on his lower lip as you tug his shirt out of the waistband of his ripped jeans. he's due for his gym session tomorrow – goes every two or three days, whatever he can fit into his schedule – and he'd made lunch for the two of you just a few hours ago. his skin is warm, his tummy soft, and it tenses with a gasp under your palms as they glide across his skin.

"mh... sorry, baby," he whispers, lashes fluttering as he blushes a dusty pink. "i should've done this on gym day..."

"hm? why?" you rock his ass against your lap with a soft exhale. you arch a brow at him. "do you think you're only attractive to me when you're hungry and dehydrated? idiot."

"hey," he whines, a protesting pout adorning his lips. he touches your hand on his stomach, fingers wrapping around yours. "'m not an idiot! just... i dunno... i wanna be handsome for you, hyung, y'know?"

you give him a look. "did i ask you out, or your abs?"

"well, me..."

"i asked you out after we finished three large pizzas at two in the morning. i think we ate about a kilo of cheese each."

he snorts. "yeah, yeah... i guess."

"uh-huh." you squeeze his hips and bring him down to kiss him, lips moving gently together. you part and bury your nose in his neck, lazily moving your hips against one another. he moans softly as you roll your palm against his bulge. "baby, you're always beautiful to me. on gym day or not – i would worship you for hours if you'd let me."

he giggles softly. "that's why i don't. you gotta be more productive than being buried between my thighs from dawn to dusk." he slips your belt free and tosses it – you barely felt him doing it, too busy engraving the sight of his sweet eyes and smile into the backs of your eyelids. "but, you know, a whole week to do whatever you want to me..."

you groan lowly at the suggestion, hastily pulling him out of his pants. you don't do it with half the grace that he does, but he seems to appreciate your enthusiasm, his cock already hard and twitching with anticipation. "mm, that does sound amazing. okay, ground rules: no touching yourself at any point. only i can get you off."

"fuck, o-okay, hyung. agreed."

you pump his cock slowly, capturing his lips hungrily. he drawls out a moan, his fingers drifting up your wrist. his other hand cradles the back of your head and he presses your foreheads together, his breath warm and quick against your cheek.

you flick your wrist and he whimpers softly, grip tightening around the base of your hand. his cock leaks as he bucks into your hand. you hush him, grazing your lips along his jawline. your hand quickens. "how does that feel, baby? good?"

"mm – mmhm," he whimpers. "it does, it does! feels really good..."

you spoil him too much. ever since you got together, he hasn't needed to touch himself – you're always right there, offering to do it for him. he's glad that you do – you can reach places so deep in him that he never knew existed, and you're always so gentle with him, making sure his pleasure is a priority.

he's dated a lot of people, but you're the first one who makes him feel so loved and important. it's almost embarrassing how much he loves you, how much he adores the way you pamper him.

he sniffles softly, burying his face in your shoulder. he grinds into your fist, cock dripping precome down your knuckles.

you hum softly, wrapping an arm around his waist. "you okay, darling? this too much?"

he shakes his head. "n-no... keep going. please. i love you."

it's sudden, and you stop moving for a half-second in surprise. "i love you, too, jungkookie. is everything alright?"

he nods, grabbing your hand and moving it up and down his swollen cock. it's cute and flushed red, twitching in your palm excitedly. "mhm. i just really love you – want you to know that."

who knew that love confessions mid-handjob could be so adorable? you smile into his hot skin and cradle him close as he gasps and jerks into your hand, spilling onto your shirt with a soft whimper.

for a long while, he remains completely lax in your arms, panting softly against your neck as he comes down from his high. when he opens his eyes tiredly, you smile down at him and kiss his cheek, tucking him back into his pants.

he whines quietly, reaching for your belt. "you didn't finish, baby... i can feel how hard you are."

you hum softly, tugging his hand away. "you need a shower, anyway. can i join you?"

his lower lip slips teasingly between his teeth. his eyes sparkle. "mm, of course. you're not getting away so easily, hyung-ah – i'm gonna eat you alive."

you smirk, letting him drag you to your feet and towards the bathroom. his eyes glint with mischief and he pulls you down by your collar to meet your lips with his, one of his hands tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. his thumb is hooked through a belt loop.

you groan into his mouth as he strokes your clothed bulge with a cheeky grin. "baby, don't test me. i'm the one with the week-long free pass to your ass."

 he winks. "why d'you think i'm doing this? last one into the shower loses!"

he wins. with the steamy water hitting your back, you cage jungkook against the glass, your arms sturdy beside him. you keep him safe, protected, from the world. not once does he feel trapped – not once does he feel confined in your love. no matter how closely you press against him, no matter how deep you are inside of him – you are his, and he is yours.

there's a certain freedom in being engulfed by your arms. he never expected it. spreading his thighs, kissing his shoulder – you love him like no other has. you love him in all the ways that matter and all the ways that don't because you're overflowing with it, that love of yours. even when you're balls deep inside him – an exciting, dirty kind of love that he blushes about in the mornings – you're smiling into his neck, murmuring about how lovely he is and how he deserves you, deserves your cock, deserves your love and deserves all that is good and bright. it's your turn to lavish him with love confessions and he can barely keep track of them all, his coherent thoughts running down the drain with each solid thrust of your hips.

"hyung," he whimpers, gnawing on his lower lip. he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers scrabbling for purchase fruitlessly against the smooth glass. your cock glides against his prostate and he grabs your hip, pulling you into him with a warbled moan. "f-fuck..."

"what's that, baby?" you murmur against his skin, hot and slick. your thrusts make him unravel, strong and hard and consistent against that spot inside him that makes him see stars. it's mind-melting. "you wanna tell me something?"

he whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as your hips shift against his ass, angling differently. your cock just grazes his prostate and he clenches around you, a warbled cry of your name leaving his lips. he feels so tiny – his feet between yours, your cock buried so deep in him he can practically taste it. he arches his back, tight ass pressing back against your pelvis, and savours your growl and the way your hand grips the opposite side of his waist, gripping the slim shelf of his hip.

"gotta use your words, pretty thing," you husk. with every thrust, it takes longer to bottom out, and eventually your hips still entirely. he whines, high-pitched and wanton, and grinds against you – you keep him at bay with one hand pressed firm to the small of his back. "easy, pretty. can you do that f'me? can you talk to me, tell me what you want from me?"

you step forward, forcing jungkook to stand straighter, pressed closer to the glass. trapped in your arms, he has no room to move, no room to argue. he shivers, chest grazing glass, and can't help the unsteady shuffle of his feet. the hot, steamy water hits your back and glides down your neck, your chest, dripping onto his shoulders.

lifting a hand, you tuck it against his upper ribs, fingers pressed into the lean muscle of his chest. the flesh – pull and push, stroking and caressing. he lets out a whisper of a moan as your warm fingers flick over his nipple, hard and pebbled.

"want you," he whines quietly, voice cracking in the middle when your hand travels down his hot, slick stomach and glides over his throbbing cock. he grabs your hip, fingers digging into you until his knuckles turn white. "w-want you – want you close to me, closer, please, want you closer—"

he breaks off with a babble as you take his hands and pin them flat to the glass. the motion draws you ever nearer – closer, as he'd say, the sweet thing – and your cock reaches so deep inside him, pressing against his stomach. he's dizzy with it, veins buzzing and head detached from his shoulders.

eventually, he hears your chuckle, like a radio knob turned slowly louder. his heart rabbits in his chest as he cracks open his eyes, temple pressed against the cold clear glass. his breath fogs it, and water trails down his cheeks from his damp hair, stuck to his skin the way it always does when you tear him apart and put him back together. his cock is wet and sticky, the heat tingling in his lower spine with a pulsing desperation.

it's all over his tummy, he thinks distantly with a soft whimper. he'd be embarrassed if he could remember the word.

when you finally finish, jungkook's legs feel like jelly. he curls his fingers around yours, lacing them together as he pants against the foggy glass, his hair damp and the air thick with the smell of sex. you kiss him over his shoulder and he moans against your lips, soft and tired. he smiles and closes his eyes as you reach for the shampoo – he leans back against your chest as you smooth your hand down his stomach, gentle and warm. he can feel your pulse through your palms and your heart through his ribs.

"i love you," he whispers against your throat. he means it in every iteration it has ever been.

[lvlyghost]

In the Midst of War: IV

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: poorly written action lol. Fluff, hurt with so much comfort 🤭. Suggestive but no smut yet🌝. Mind the english!🐸 lmk if i missed any.

A/N: okay so this was supposed to be longer but decided to split the last part for chapter v 🐣 it'll be worth it i promise. next part is coming up sooner! as you know i do a lot of double shifts at work and December is the busiest season for me at work lol, just bear with me💖 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🩵

Masterlist✨

"𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅."

It's a cold night by the time you get to the safe house in a secluded street somewhere outside Kaindorf. Ghost grunts standing next to you, one of his arms draped over your shoulders to help him keep steady or at least as much as you can help with someone his size. The mission —your first mission since Las Almas— had been successful until it wasn't. You type the code and wait until the door opens with a mechanic sound revealing a not so bad interior. The whole place is silent when you walk in, mirroring the dead of the night. No sound of cars outside not even the sound of the wind to accompany you.

"How are you doing Ghost?" You turn your face to him, he's already staring down at you, noticing the struggle that comes with trying to hold part of his weight. This is not how things should've played out. Yet there he was. A nasty bullet wound on his left shoulder and another to his leg; the latter being just a graze but still hurt like hell.

"Never been better." He growls. And you know he's trying to act nonchalantly. That's just who he is. Who you've come to know. But his injury, especially the one on his shoulder is no joke. You had tried to stop the bleeding right before digging for the bullet. The amount of pain he must've been in was as bad as yours a few weeks ago "How did we miss them?" He mutters under his breath, no doubt recalling the events.

"I don't know. But we'll find out." You lead him to the nearest couch in the corner of the living room and turning on the lamp next to him. Ghost sits down struggling to find a position where he feels comfortable enough. "Alright..." swallowing down you look him in the eyes. "I need to check your wounds again and clean them up properly, okay?"Ghost closes his eyes for a second before nodding, he's too lightheaded to do anything else or maybe it was the morphine you gave him before, he doesn't know anymore.

Trotting back to the truck you unload the duffel bags where all your weapons and medical supplies lie. Closing the door shut and locking it before returning to where the Lieutenant rests. The lamp is turned off again so you can only make the outline of everything. You stop in your tracks dropping one of the bags and shuffle nervously.

"Umm, Ghost?" He hums in acknowledgment. "I can't see anything, do you mind turning...-"

"No." His response comes fast. "I'm not wearing the bloody mask."

So he had taken it off the moment you walked out.

"Then how am I supposed to look at your wounds?" Rolling your eyes you start approaching.

He growls something unintelligible and then adds:

"Fine just don't bloody look up or...-"

"Don't worry, I've no interest in looking at your face."

But the truth was that you wanted nothing more than to see him. The real him. You had dreamed about his face. What would he look like? The small parts of Ghost that you had taken a glimpse of were not enough to make you any less curious. For all you knew was that he most likely was blond. His eyelashes are so light that you wonder if his hair is the same shade. He has soft pink lips and a strong jaw. All of him was huge. Massive. You would never say it out loud but you felt drawn to him.

"Afraid you might like what you see?"

You snort, walking towards him and kneeling in front of the couch he's sitting on. His eyes follow every move you make, never looking up in the process. You slowly peel off the bandages you had previously wrapped around his right leg.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, taking the disinfectant out as you begin to clean up his wound again.

"Not that one." For a moment you almost forget that you're not supposed to look up, but you do. You were trying to take a quick glance to his shoulder, instead laying eyes on his face.

"Shit." You bow your head down as quickly, apologizing profusely to Ghost and expecting some sort of angry reaction from him but he remains in complete silent. "I- I didn't even really see anything, forgive me Sir."

"Fucking hell." He growled. "It doesn't matter. Just don't do it again."

It was true. You barely even saw the entirety of his face. Just pale skin, light brows and a crooked nose from being broken too many times.

"Okay." You swallow hard, hands slightly shaking when your skin makes contact with his much colder one.

Ghost shifts in his seat seemingly uncomfortable with something you can't put a finger on. "Think it's time to stitch that one up." You gesture to where his shoulder should be not daring to look again. Fumbling with the needle and thread waiting for his permission. There's no verbal answer to your previous statement, only a low hum that's enough for you to stand up and silently sit on the armrest next to him, his face is turned the other way hiding himself from you. "You know you can just put it back on?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah, right." brows lifting in surprise. "Want me to get you something for the pain?"

"Get it done, kid."

Breathing deeply you oblige.

Ghost's whole body tenses with the first sting of the needle piercing through his skin. Your eyes are fixated on your work but every now and then they travel to the back of his head. Blond hair. So you were right; and you can't fight back the grin that appears on your lips. You're marveled by something so simple as that; if only he'd let you come closer...

"I think it's my turn to cook something for you. All this time you've taken care of me."

"You don't have to. I was doing what I was told."

Blinking you tap his shoulder lightly to get his attention. Ghost merely turns so a small part of his side face shows, still not enough for you to see.

"I want to." Even if he says it was his job. Even if it didn't mean anything to him. All you needed was a way to thank him for what he had done. That was who you were. How you were taught to be. Grateful amongst adversity. "I'm a good cook I promise."

One last stitch. One more. And then you're done, and his body relaxes as you come to stand gathering the medical supplies while looking down the floor. Before you leave he reaches out, grabbing your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip. Eyes going wide.

"You can look now." His voice is low and when you turn he's put the balaclava back on. Big brown eyes staring with intensity. "Thanks for what you did back there."

You stutter when you speak, something about the way he holds you makes you forget how to form words.

"I had to. It was my job, although I failed..."

"You didn't fail." He growls. You motion at his wounds, embarrassed because you knew you could do better than that. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Your mouth hangs open, lips quivering when his words reach your ears. All this time you've tried to look calm. To appear strong when in reality everything has gone from bad to worse; it began with the loss of your former team and the people you held close and dear. People you thought would be there for you for eternity. And then all of the sudden there were none. Alone in a dirty side road to die, you guess that in the end there were no good people. Just soldiers following orders. But standing in front of a man who was always portrayed as the devil himself maybe... just maybe not all hope was lost. And not all people were bad. Much to your dismay, Ghost stands from his place on the old couch, rising in all his massive glory as he takes one firm step closer to you. Your hands threaten to let everything fall onto the floor, breath getting stuck in your throat. You're lucky. So, so goddamn lucky that he's your ally. Someone who, in these past weeks has become something you don't dare to name.

"At ease soldier." He commands in a hushed voice. And he's close. Too damn close you feel the heat radiate off of him. It makes your skin burn and hands sweat. "I'm just looking at you."

-

Ghost is terrifying when you look at him in full gear. The white skull mask a legend itself among all the military forces in the world. Hushed stories told during late nights back on base. You had never met him nor had the chance to work with him. All you knew was that. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd have to be his eyes from the distance; to be the one who guards him. Your finger caresses the trigger of your sniper rifle, ready to shoot at anyone who you deemed dangerous.

"Should've brought my own mattress." You huff, shifting your body to find a more comfortable position.

"You've been out for a few weeks. It can't be that bad." His deep voice talks right into your ear.

"My stomach was literally reattached, Lt."

A deep chuckle that doesn't last long enough can be heard.

"If you can't do it let me know. I can take you back to your room, yeah?"

"I'm having a hard time deciding if that's a good or bad thing, sir."

"The latter, Vesper."

Laughing you turn your head, maybe it's the paranoia of being back but you feel someone constantly watching you from behind.

"How's that a bad thing? Thought you liked me in my room."

You can practically hear him suck in a breath and then a muttered curse.

"Not when you're injured and nearly comatose." He grunts after a few seconds of silence.

Oh.

Oh.

"Well then's a good thing i'm here."

The mission was rather simple. Break in, gather some intel and get out. Nothing was supposed to go sideways but it did. It had started with the room where the intel was supposed to be.

"Vesper." You hear Ghost calling you. "There's civilians in here." His voice drops an octave.

"What?" A shiver runs down your spine. "They are not supposed to be there." All you hear is the sound of muffled voices. Cries for help. Ghost swearing under his breath. And then shots are fired.

Your heart races when the first couple of hostiles appear through your scope. Not being one to hesitate you aim to their heads and fire.

"Vesper sitrep." Ghost barks, his end way more chaotic than yours.

"Hostiles coming in groups. You need to get out of there asap."

"Bloody hell." It's all he says before another round of shots is fired. "Meet me at the evac point."

"I'm not leaving you behind!"

Shifting your scope to look through one of the windows you watch as a dark figure runs downstairs. Ghost is trying to make his way to the back exit when another group reaches the abandoned building. You effectively take out the first three men that jump out of the black van. Then another ominous creak of crunching leaves in the god forsaken roof of the house across, rolling on your back your turn at the exact moment a bullet is fired your way, and hitting the the ground where you previously laid prone.

Wide-eyed your face pales as recognition hits your features.

You know him. And he knows you too.

-

His big hand lifts slowly as if asking permission to touch you to which you give a small nod. Ghost is looking at a spot on your left cheek his thumb softly caressing the soft skin of your face. You don't know why but you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"How'd you get this?" An unknown look is all you give him. "There's a scratch, right 'ere." Careful not to hurt you or cause you any pain he keeps his motion.

"Must've been when we ran through the woods." You mumble. "I'm sure I didn't let any of them get me."

"Atta girl." A small pause settles when all you hear is the sound of the night outside. Crickets and the now casual passing of cars far in the distance, returning from work, oblivious to the dangers of the world. Some things they'd never heard of before, things they wouldn't witness in their lifetime. "Better me than you."

You melt at his words. Heart nearly beating out of your chest. It's like your body acts out of pure impulse. Hands —your hands— grab the sides of his neck pulling him down just enough that his forehead touches yours, and you rest there with ragged breathing fanning over his face. Closing your eyes you weigh in your options. Break the moment and tell him about the encounter with the man back in the roof, or let yourself feel him? Because truth be told this could only mean one thing. Ghost wanted to be near you in ways that were not professional at all. And hell you wanted that too from the moment you saw him. You just didn't know it.

If the things you heard were true he didn't let just anyone close to him. What was so special about you? You wanted to ask, but you feared that even if you moved, this thing would be broken and the moment would slip through your fingers.

In a quick movement you go from standing in the middle of the living room to sitting on the nearest table, you shriek as Ghost slots himself between your legs. Seemingly unfazed by what he just did you then see the corner of his eyes crinkle. He's smiling under the mask.

"You're hurt. You'll reopen the wound and..."

"I don't care, sweetheart. I've got you where I want you." A sheepish smile forms on your lips and your cheeks grow hot. "One word. Say it and I will stop."

You nod right before he lifted his mask and his lips crash down on you.

Part 5

TAGS:

@fictionallifestuff

[dottcre]

misc collection of thoughts + drabble for yandere!reader x dottore

cw: suggestive, gn!reader, yandere themes, possessive and easily jealous reader, violent reader (not towards dottore), violence, death

i think he'd try to fuck you up on purpose, because aside from also being insane, he's a little shit. with the knowledge that you're in the room, he'd let people get close, get touchy with him

possibly a yan x yan relationship

he definitely knows about your extreme possessiveness and uses it against you, be it to tease you or try to get you to comply to his whims

thinks that you get more interesting (attractive, with a side of scary) when you're angry

if you're on the shyer/more reserved side, he'd coax the horrible thoughts out of you with the sweetest words in a tone that barely sounded like him

in short, he's insane and you make each other worse

“who was that?” your tone was cold, catching dottore off guard. he had just sealed a deal that would benefit him greatly, though the representative of the other party was extremely... warm. both their attitude and their skin. the way you looked at him made him shudder, and he knew he was in trouble. 

“no one.” he was lying through his teeth, and he knew that you knew. your eyes narrowed, and he knew you were in a bad mood. he really shouldn’t egg you on. 

he really shouldn’t.  

-

dottore woke up the next day, body wiped clean but sore all over. his limbs were bound together tightly, and he was sure that the marks they left would take long to heal. seeing the back turned to him, he assumed it was you, but when his skin came in contact with "yours", he was sure it wasn't.

dottore flinched back from the corpse, reeling at how unexpected cold it was. he's ended enough lives in his time, but waking next to a corpse was a new one. as he zeroed in on the other party's face, he realized that it was the business person from just yesterday, expressionless and devoid of the warmth yesterday. he was disgusted, not just disgusted, really. nauseated. all he wanted was to squirm away from the bed, far away from the body.

"like your present?" you sounded satisfied at his disgust, and dottore's wide eyes found you in the darkness of the room. you were grinning, though there was still anger in it.

downright insane.

"i figured i should spoil you some, and since you seemed so interested in that whore, i've brought them to you," you voice dripped with faux sweetness as you stood up, walking over to the madman, rendered helpless by your ropes and work. "don't say i never do anything for you."

dottore didn't know what to feel at that moment. scared? excited? gleeful even? he couldn't deny that he loved this shade on you. afterall, he was partially to blame for turning you into a monster like him. he didn't lean into your touch when you cupped his cheek, but let the pleasant sensation sink into his skin.

"get acquainted with your new friend, dott. i'll be back later." you didn't spare a second glance at him as you left, the room plunging into silence and darkness, and as disturbing as it should've been to him, the scientist was more preoccupied by the throbbing between his legs.

[delqcate]

-–— AUTUMN CHILL : FLUFFTOBER DAY 2

day two is finally here!! just a small sort of disclaimer, i have never experienced autumn/fall before but i am a lover of the season and aesthetic so this is just my idea based off of photos and films. also i'm back to my roots i love that for me 🫶 | flufftober | navigation

p.s. i appreciate your guy's love for the first fic. jellydoger liking my fic was definitely a small fangirl moment for me

summary: a game of hide and seek in the forbidden forest ends with worry over your cold hands

warnings/cw: no use of y/n , lots of descriptions , lmk if there's more

word count: 0.7k

paring: draco malfoy x you

Hogwarts always had a special charm to it when the chilly seasons came. The castle was already decorated with pumpkins and the air had never felt better, oh, and the leaves. The crunch as you step on them, how beautiful they look on or off the trees. Autumn in Hogwarts was definitely something worth experiencing.

Which is how you were able to trick Draco into a small game of hide and seek with you after some drinks in The Three Broomsticks. "I know you're here somewhere, darling. The leaves aren't really your best friend today." He calls out in a teasing manner while you were trying your hardest to not step on said leaves, no matter how crunchy they seemed.

The closer he got, the more you started to rethink your hiding spot. There weren't many places to hide in the forbidden forest besides trees, trees, and more trees— and as tempting as hiding in the leaves would be, that would be too much work— so you had to act fast and quick.

You quickly found a clear path but Draco was always close behind, staying still and silent to find you quicker. As you continued to run, you were definitely running out of breath, so as soon as you found a big enough tree to hide behind, you sat there and scanned your eyes all over the forest. Shades of orange and red fill your vision.

He felt close by as if he was right behind you. You weren't too tense since besides harmless creatures frolicking around, it was just the both of you, but you still had to keep your guard up. Something did catch your eye though: a leaf in the shape of a heart. Some parts of it were bent, but it also seemed natural.

A smile grew on your face as you continued to look at it, carefully pocketing it with the worry of getting it crushed. What you didn't realize, was that Draco—

"Boo!" He quickly taps your shoulders and yells, laughing as you flinch and slap his arm instinctively. "Draco!" Your breath was heavy, but you couldn't help but let out a laugh as well. He crouches beside you, your back pressed up against the tree and your legs curled up to your chest.

He had a soft smile on his face, perfect gray-blue eyes, and beautiful, kissable lips. He was perfect in your eyes, you were perfect in his. He leans in and gives your lips a soft peck before taking your hands in his.

"Your hands are freezing, love. I told you, you should've worn your gloves." He frowns, slipping off his own. "It's fine, I promise. I don't need yours, don't worry." She takes his hands to stop him, but he gently nudges them away, slipping one of his gloves on your hand.

"If you won't take both, at least take one. Mother made them..." He smiles, admiring the black gloves with the signature 'M' embroidered on the top with silver.

You look at the glove with a smile, it didn't fit properly, but it felt like it did too. Your eyes meet his and you let out a soft giggle as you noticed his face, his nose was pink, as well as his cheeks. You gave a soft kiss on all three spots, his cheeks seemingly getting more pink.

"The autumn chill hasn't been too kind to you now, hasn't it?" You tilt your head to the side a little to admire his face a little more, a small smile on your face. He chuckles and shakes his head, his blonde hair moving along.

"Maybe, maybe not. How about we warm up in the castle? The others are probably there as well anyways." He stands up and offers a hand to you, taking it graciously. "Sure. Oh, I wanna show you something I found!" You say as your smile grows wide, pulling out the leaf you found.

"Isn't it beautiful?" There was a sparkle in your eye, he loved that about you. He nods and smiles wide, wrapping an arm around you as if to warm you up from the cold weather. "Mhm, just like you." He kisses your head as both of you walk back to the warmth of the castle.

[teawithnosugar]

hiii! loooove your writing <3

Would you ever write a one-shot where reader has a bf but is sneaking around with Ellie and Ellie finally gets fed up with it, like why don’t you just leave him?? But then we find out reader is too afraid to dump him because maybe he hurts/threatens reader?

Idk I feel like this could sting but in the best way 🫣

Not Too Late

! Pairings ,' Ellie x Reader ! CW ,' angst/comfort....I think, abuse, cheating ! words ,' 0.9k ! synopsis ,' You aren't as unreasonable as Ellie originally thought ! song ,' Lover, You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley

"Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong"

! AN ,' I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, I KNOW I USUALLY GIVE SAD ENDINGS BUT IT FELT WRONG TO NOT GIVE THIS ONE A SOMEWHAT HAPPY END

“Jesus Christ, I remember this…” Ellie said with a grin as she looked at one of the pictures in the photo album you were holding. Together, bare on your bed, you nestled between her legs, her chin resting tenderly upon your shoulder. The warmth of her breath caressed your skin as she nuzzled her nose beneath your ear. You were both looking at pictures from your teenage years, specifically a picture you took with Ellie asleep on your shoulder while both Jesse and Dina drew on her face. You had been friends for years, madly in love for the majority of it. You giggled, smile faltering once you looked outside, the sun was setting which meant your boyfriend Dan would be home soon because unfortunately, the moment you and Ellie confessed your love for each other was 2 months into your relationship with a guy who was relatively new to Jackson.

“Why…why are you still with him?” Ellie asked softly. You both loved each other, she knew you didn’t love him, and you knew she was bound to ask this question sooner or later.

“It’s complicated Els-” 

“It’s not,” you began, only to be interrupted by her swift retort, her tone laced with an icy edge. She was right, you both knew it and she’s been patient with you for the past few months, she had given you the grace of time, patiently awaiting the words you never uttered. 

She untangled herself from you, standing up and picking up her clothes from the floor and starting to dress up. “Els please, give me time-”

“I’ve given you 9 goddamn months Y/N. If you were staying with him because you were pregnant you would’ve given birth by now. Why don’t you just leave him?”

She asked coldly, tying her shoes as she finished dressing up. You stayed quiet, hugging your knees tightly as you stared at the messy sheets. Words lingered on the tip of your tongue, desperate to reveal the way he wields his words like weapons, threatening your very existence. You stayed quiet because, your mind, painting vivid images of the horrors he would inflict on you if you even told him you wanted to leave.

She groaned frustratedly at your silence, walking out of your house and slamming the door shut. You sobbed softly as you started dressing up. She always came back to you after arguments, so you weren’t worried about that. You were just sad because you were hurting her.

When Dan came home, he immediately noticed a flannel on the floor, it wasn’t yours and it sure as hell wasn’t his. There’s no way you got it recently, you had been home for weeks, waiting for the bruises he gave you during your last fight to fade. It’s the reason Ellie even came over, she missed you, and now you missed her.

His fists struck with a brutal force, knocking you to the floor. Frozen in fear, you lay there, limp and defenseless—your body's automatic response. He unbuckled his belt then used it as a whip, the deafening sound the leather made against your skin filled your ears. Shades of crimson danced upon your flesh, an artist's palette of pain. And still, he persisted. When the belt had worn out its cruel dance, he returned to using his bare fists. Amidst the assault, thoughts slithered, attempting to justify his actions, to find reason in this madness. ’Maybe I’m disappointing him? Sometimes men get carried away when they feel like they should be having fun’ Such thoughts whispered in the recesses of your mind, clinging desperately to a semblance of understanding.

Minutes stretched into an eternity as you lay on the floor, broken and bruised. Tentatively, you rose, your trembling form cleaning the bloodstains from the floor, your body seeking refuge beneath the cascading water of the shower. This had become your grim reality—a cycle where beatings transformed from rare occurrences to nightly rituals upon Dan's return. He drained you of strength, providing the bare minimum sustenance required for survival, keeping you physically weak, your spirit tethered.

Days melted into one another, your existence confined to a bedridden state, waiting for Dan's return, awaiting his whims and desires. Initially, your thoughts lingered upon the pain you caused Ellie, but as your senses dulled over the weeks, those thoughts waned. They were replaced by an ache, a longing to see her face, to feel her presence. Dan's venomous threats reverberated in your ears, yet whenever you closed your eyes, all you could see was Ellie, her face shining like a beacon in the darkness.

She’ll come back, she always comes back.

Exhaustion seeped into your bones, prompting you to seek solace in sleep, still dressed in your sweater and pajamas. You saw her beautiful face, leaning close, whispering words that were muffled by the buzzing in your ears. A tender smile graced your lips as you beheld her beauty, there was no sight more enchanting. Once the grogginess and the buzzing in your ears faded, you realized this wasn’t a dream.

“Baby are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Els…?”

If you were in the right state, you would have enveloped her in your arms, holding her close. You would have nestled into her chest as she gently lifted you up. You would’ve seen Dan’s unconscious body by the doorframe of your bedroom. You would’ve noticed the relief on her face because she realized just how much worse you would’ve been if she hadn’t mustered up the courage to try talking to you again. You would’ve noticed the tears threatening to fall down her face because she wasn’t too late.

[nomercyanywhere]

fuck or die ー ₊⁺ ⋆ ftm reader

look out!! this contains・> gun + knifeplay, creepy + stalker + obsessed and possessive leon, he threatens to murder reader if he doesn't let him fuck, noncon (?) ntr so tread carefully!!

ー ー ー ー ー

your eyes flutter open... the air was tinted red, the scent of it, a very strong metallic aroma, your hands bound behind you and your feet tied to the legs of the chair, you were also missing your pants.. everything was blurry... where am I?

when your vision became clear, in front of you lied multiple corpses, what the fuck? their faces unknown, thank god... but still. who in the fuck would do this?

caught in a trance by the sight, you didn't notice a figure standing in the shadows, someone, someone was there with you

when they stepped forward, you jumped since you were unaware there was someone else with you, the moment they stepped into the light... you had a clear vision of his face

dark, dark bags under his eyes, a knife in his hand, dripping with blood, splatters of it on his face and shirt, his blonde hair shined in the light, "leon...?" you quietly cry out, your eyes began watering

"y/n~" he smiles at you, his cheeks a feint shade of pink "you're finally awake, do you like my present? he looks down at the deceased

"you.. did this?" your voice cracked "why?!" you yelled at him "they were staring a little bit too long baby, they were probably undressing you or fucking you with their eyes, who knows?" he replies, it sounds almost as if, he didn't regret any of it

"what the fuck leon??!! their still innocent people! they have families!!" you shouted, but tried to cool it, who know what he might do next? "well they probably should've thought about that before laying their disgusting eyes on you" he caresses your cheek

"do you know, how many other creeps I haven't killed yet because I've been too busy fapping to you? I watch you through your window last night~ just who are you thinking about while playing with your pussy that hard? hm?" he shoves his hand in your underwear "was it me?"

his fingers rub your cunt and when he takes his hand out "what's this? you're fucking wet? " he chuckled, he wasn't kidding, you were soaked, you pathetically look down and see a dark patch on your undies

"do you get off to this prince?" he grabs his combat knife and carefully dragged the dull side on your clit, you were shaking, every where "careful now.. I might hurt you"

"a-are you gonna be kill me?" you squeezed you legs together tightly, fat tears begin falling down your cheeks, he removes his hand from your bit "of course not..." he tells you before kissing your cheek

"what do you wanna do with me...?" your voice almost like a broken whisper, sniffles and gasps "I want to keep you all to myself y/n, only me" he went behind you and took his knife out

he slid the knife under the ropes that had restrained you and cut it, leaving marks on your wrists, after doing so he makes his way infront of you once more and knelt down, cutting both the ropes that held your ankles

he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers, he pulled you up and into him, your chest pressed against his own, and his gloved hands, caressing your back, fingertips tracing your spine, going up and down

you were too scared to move, too afraid what he might do if you did "l-leo-" "you're so beautiful.. everything about you" he cuts you off, then said under his breath "so fucking sexy.." his exhaling on your ear, his tongue licking the lobe, and his hands now squeezing and grabbing your ass

"I want you so bad baby.. " he murmured, kisses down your neck and collar bones till he reached your nethers, he knelt down before ripping your undies, tossing them to the side and looked at your messy cunt,

"already so wet for me" he pulls his gun out "a gun ー?!"and began rubbing the tip of it on your clit, he playfully pushes it in and then takes it out "don't worry sweetheart, it's empty" the cold muzzle of it was enough to make you shiver

"but if you misbehave, I might just reload it" he says then pulls the trigger, nothing, thank god, you sigh out of relief, he chuckles at you reaction "on your knees boy" he stood up

once you got down, he puts the gun to your head "y'know what to do" he points at his zipper.. oh.. you pressed your face into his hardon, then took a massive whiff, inhaling his musk, after kissing it and licking it through his pants

you bite onto the zipper and pulled it down, then his boxers, his cock springing out slapped you in the face, not that hard though "so.. now what? hm?" the gun pressed the side of your head "suck." you obediently nod, and began licking him all over, his tip, this shaft even playing with his balls

you finally took him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, he big, very, you can't even take him in balls deep

you feel his hands behind your head, then pushed your head into his dick, your nose burried in his pubes and his entire dick now snug in your throat, your gags are muffled

"fffuck yes... oh shit" he kept you there for a while, your tight throat keeping him warm, his hips moved subtly, not long after he pulls you off his dick, strings of saliva on his now wet dick "stand up, m'gonna fucking breed you"

when you got on your feet, he grabs your arm and lays you down on the nearest bed, he forcefully opened your legs, revealing a cute, wet little pussy "fuck.." he lines his dick with your hole then rams all of him into you

the pleasure and pain ran through your entire body, his curved dick hit your very sensitive gspot, he started fast and rough, not giving you time to adjust, you squirm at the pain "ghk-! if you move again, I'm gonna fucking shoot you!" he growled, shoving his gun into your mouth and began thrusting again

his aggressive rutting caused the metal bedframe to creek, his moans fill your ear, beads of sweat from his forehead fall onto your face, your noises canceled by his gun

his thrusts became sloppy, a white ring around your hole, his cum slowly dripping out "f-uck... m'gonna knock you up -!" he plunged himself into you and came deeeep inside, his hips pressed against your ass, still pumping y'full of him

he slowly pulls out, watching as his messy cock slides out of your ruined cunt, he looks at you, face messy with all kinds of fluid.. tears, sweat, saliva, cum etc

he takes the gun out of you mouth and puts his aside, he goes in for a kiss, your tongue tasted like metal, most likely from the pistol, you pull away to breath "you're mine now.. all mine"

he kisses the tip of your nose before grabbing your phone, and taking a pic of your cum filled pussy while his thumb spread you open, letting his cum ooze out..

he sends the pic to your boyfriend

ー ー ー ー ー

[hitomisuzuya]

Scaramouche x fem! reader. Some smut. Marriage proposal.

@xxventiswindblumexx was indulging me earlier and they put this in my brain and rattled it around. Sorry I have been kinda quiet. I wanted to finish the Archon Quest and just decompress after my melt down earlier. I hope you all enjoy.

Your wrists burned from straining against them, your fingers itching to touch him. Your whole body trembled from overstimulation, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Scaramouche was holding your legs spread apart, his tongue working ruthlessly against your cunt. "Call me Master!" He glared up at you, gripping your hips when you rolled your hips up into his tongue.

"Scara, please.." you pleaded, hissing with pain and pleasure as Scaramouche's fingers dug into already forming bruises of passion. "I don't think I can cum..ahh~.. anymore."

"Ha, did I stutter slut? I said call me Master and tell me when you are going to cum!" Scaramouche snapped, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. "You will do as you are told!" He plunged two fingers inside of you, sucking harshly on your clit. It didn't take much for you to cum all over his tongue.

For the third time. Twice with his tongue and once with his cock. As you screamed in pleasure, your vision blurred a little with bliss.

When he finally decided to he was satisfied, Scaramouche wiped his mouth, licked his fingers clean and untied your wrists.

"You really laid into me, Scara," you said, exhausted. "Not that I mind. I think my neck might be bleeding a little though."

Scaramouche kissed your wrists, soothing them with his tongue before kissing the a few drops of blood on your neck. "Of course you don't mind. Only you can handle me." There was hint of pride in his voice.

You blinked sleepily up at him, returning the gentle kiss he pressed on your lips. "Give me your hand." Scaramouche reached over to take something out of the drawer of the table next to your bed.

You were suspicious.

"There was a reason I went twice as hard tonight, it'll make this more meaningful," there was something soft and..maybe embarrassed in his voice.

You felt something metal chill one of your fingers.

Your ring finger.

He tilted your hand slightly to admire something. "Put a lot of thought into this. You really should've listened to me when I told you not to get too close. Now you can't say no. Not that you would. I ordered you say you were my slut twice as much as I normally do," Scaramouche turned your hand so you could finally see it.

It was a ring. It was the ring.

Silver shaded with a black color. A small purple diamond complimented the black band of the ring. "Scara, it's.. beautiful..is this?"

"Yeah, it is. I really should've told you this before I gave it to you," Scaramouche said, leaning down to bit your tender lower lip. "Since it's never coming off your finger, engraved on the inside is: You are mine. And I am yours." His cheeks flushed.

[jurassic-park-inthe-world]

Protect Me? (Zach Mitchell)

Summary: Zach Mitchell and the reader, Y/N, have been best friends since childhood. When Zach takes her to Jurassic World, it's a game of survival.

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The day he met her, he fell in love. That's how Zach says he and Y/N met, but when Y/N herself is around, he says they met in the seventh grade, when she moved to Michigan from Alaska. She was used to the cold, it didn't bother her, and neither did the kids whispering how weird she was for still being obsessed with dinosaurs. She got along great with Gray, because they both knew things about Sauropods and long-necks and T-Rexes and Triceratops and this and that kind of dinosaur.

Over time, Zach started falling for her. At the time, he was still with Ashley, his now-ex, and he hated thinking that he was leading her on, even though he thought--no, knew--that he had no chance with Y/N. So, as friends, he invited her along to Jurassic World, their aunt's dinosaur theme park.

Time Skip

Zach, Gray, and Y/N got off of the boat docked at Isla Nublar. The hills and mountains spread around them like a green maze, and the wooden dock was warm from the sun. Y/N grinned, taking it in. She loved nature, it was her happy place. She liked to often sit near rivers or streams and draw them in motion, or listen to the rain and sleep, even if she got cold and a little wet. "It's so pretty here," She said, and Zach grinned, shaking his head. "You and nature, I swear." She giggled, and Zach blushed.

"Who's that?" Gray asked, pointing at a woman with black hair and dark shades covering her eyes. She was dressed in a power suit, a pale gray color that covered a white shirt. She had pale gold shoes on. In her slim hands, she held a sign: ZACH AND GRAY MITCHELL, Y/N L/N. "Let's find out," Y/N said softly.

Time Skip

"What the hell just happened?" Y/N choked on water as she swam to shore. Zach and her pulled Gray onto the mud, and Zach said, "We were almost eaten." He blew water from his nose in a short huff, and Gray said, "That's why Aunt Claire wanted us to come back. We should've gone back." He whimpered, and Y/N gently helped him up, shaking water from her hair. "Well, let's just get back to the park, okay?"

They wandered around for a long time and found a set of doors covered in vines and moss. "The old park!" Y/N cried happily, running up the steps slick with moss. "Careful, careful." Zach scolded as she ran inside. It was a disaster, but it was beautiful, like an old castle left in ruins. She could see the beauty where everything must've been. "They built over it," Gray frowned, touching a wall with painted Velociraptors on it. "Makes sense, they didn't exactly tell anyone this happened." Zach muttered, picking up a banner. He turned to Gray. "Still got those matches?" Gray opened his "dork pouch" and took them out, handing them to Zach, who lit the banner like a torch. "Come on." He said, and they followed.

They had just entered the old Visitor's Center when a large, scaly foot slammed down and crushed a leaf-covered statue. "Run!" Zach yelled, and they bolted. Y/N tried keeping up but didn't see a large vine and root entangled together on the floor and tripped, flying forwards. "Ow!" She yelped, and the dinosaur, the one that tried to eat them on the waterfall, snarled and started leaning down. She froze, but knew that this thing didn't see like the T-Rex; it went off thermal radiation, not sight. Suddenly, the thing howled, and she saw Gray jamming a huge stick in the dinosaur's leg, making it scream and roar in pain. "Come on!" Zach was yanking her to her feet, and as they passed, they grabbed Gray. Making it into a garage, they saw a gasoline Jeep. Pausing, they waited to hear the dinosaur's loud steps. After a moment, they heard them, stomping away. "He's leaving," Gray whispered. Zach adn Y/N weren't listening. He was holding her close, breathing deeply to calm himself. "Are you okay?" He asked, face inches from hers. She nodded, breathless. "Yes." For a moment, they stared at each other. "Jesus, just kiss her." Gray snapped, moving to the Jeep.

Zach grinned, kissing Y/N, and she kissed back, feeling safe. "I...I love you," She whispered, and he blushed, a small smile on his face. "I love you more."

[soupbaddie]

A Day With the Pavel Family

*only suitable for mature audiences, 18+*

While this story is fine for 13+, future parts will not be.

This story contains spoilers pertaining to Najuma and Hodari quest lines.

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"Hey! Your dad said you were wanting some tea, so I brought you some sweet leaf."

Najuma had just barely made it out of her room, still yawning, before I started talking to her.

"Oh! Um.. thanks! This will be great after dinner tonight. Thanks, Em."

I couldn't get out a reply before she took off out the front door, saying something about not wanting to forget her newest idea.

I sat back down on the couch and picked up my book. I had spent the last hour reading, waiting for Najuma to wake up. I started my day early in the hopes of getting a sernuk before it was too hot to hunt. Luckily it didn't take me too long, so I came here right after and got straight to reading.

"Hey, darlin'."

I was so lost in my book, I didn't even see or hear Hodari come through the door.

"What are you doing here so earlier? I don't usually see you 'til lunch time," he said, while giving me a grin.

"I could ask you the same. You should work while it's still cool out. Also, how did you know I was here?"

He nodded toward the door and said, "I saw Najuma come out of here with a pep in her step and I knew that meant she'd seen you."

I looked down and smiled as he made his way to the couch to sit by me. He put a hand on my thigh and I could feel a tingle move up my leg and to my spine. His touch always felt so new and made my heart race.

"What can I do for you, darlin'?"

"Oh. Nothing," I replied. "I was just out and thought I'd try to make the day easier for you by getting some steaks for dinner. Lucky for you, I was successful." I looked up at him and he was already looking back at me.

"You know you don't have to do that for me," he said quietly.

"I know but now it's one less thing for you to worry about."

"Well, I really appreciate it, Ember. You take good care of Najuma and me."

He gave my thigh a light squeeze and I felt a wave of nerves run through me.

"I wish I could help out more but, I'm a better hunter than I am a miner."

He chuckled. "Well, how about you join me in the mines today and I can give you a few tips."

"I'd like that."

He stood up and grabbed my hand to help me up then led me out the door.

I waved at Najuma as we made our way towards the mines. She smiled and waved back but I knew she was upset that she couldn't join. I was slowly convincing Hodari to let her back in the mines but it was taking more time than I'd hoped.

As we got closer, I started to feel some nervous energy creeping up inside of me. I had been working on my skills and was really hoping Hodari would notice. I didn't want him to feel like all his help in the past had been ignored. He had more patience with me than he should've and I felt like I needed to prove that I was worth the work.

"Alright, Ember, let me see what you got."

I swung the pick above my head and using the weight of it, came back down on some iron in front of me. It didn't do much but at least I hit my target this time.

"Not too bad, darlin'. You're getting better at this. Move your legs further apart, they're too close together. Now give it another swing."

I pulled back the pick again, and with better balance, was able to come down with a little more force.

"That's it. Nice swing, Em."

I let out the breath I had been holding and gave him a nod. When I went to hit a third time, I swung back too fast and lost my balance. I dropped the pick in the hopes of moving my hands in time to catch myself. Before I hit, I felt Hodari catch me.

"Take it a little slower next time. There's no rush," he said as he helped me back to my feet.

"I know we just started, but I think I'll take a break. That pick is always heavier than I remember. I'll come back once I catch my breath."

He gave me a nod of approval and I took off to find some shade. I sat under a tree close enough to the mines to see Hodari at work. He was great at his job and all those years of hard work really showed. He was strong. I could feel it when he caught me. He held me like I didn't weigh more than the pick I was swinging. I sat back and admired him. His face was so still and focused. His stance was firm and unmoving in a way I knew I'd never conquer. And his arms, his chest...

I got a weird feeling in my stomach and turned to look at something else. Any time I really stopped to look at him, these feelings would come. I wasn't very familiar with them. Existing was still pretty new.

When I arrived here, I had no idea what being human meant. I knew the basics of being alive, but I had almost no memory of where I came from or what I was before arriving. Everything I did and saw were firsts for me. The foundation of who I was was there, but nothing was built on it.

I pulled a book out of the bag I had been carrying. It wasn't the one I had thought it was but it would do.

"Stalking Prey for Beginners," I read out loud. Not as entertaining as the romance novels Caleri introduced me to but still good enough to keep me reading.

After some time passed, Hodari made his way towards me wiping sweat from his brow.

"It'll be dark by the time we get back. Don't want to keep Najuma waiting," he said.

I hadn't even realized it had gotten so late. I'd spent the whole day reading this damn book... and occasionally staring at Hodari.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I never went back to help. I got lost in reading."

I looked down, a little embarrassed, and he chuckled.

"You know I don't mind, darlin'. I'm glad you found some time for yourself to relax. You deserve that. "Now let's head back." He grabbed my hand and we walked back to the house.

Najuma was already inside waiting for us. She was at the table writing notes about her latest creation. She had yet to tell me what it is but I knew she would when she was ready for a test subject.

"Hodari, you go clean up and I'll start prepping dinner. Once you're done, I'll go next," I said.

"Sure thing, darlin." He kissed my hand then headed outside.

"So, what did you get up to today?" I asked Najuma as I started washing some potatoes.

"Oh, the same as always. Wait until dad is out of the workshop then get started on my latest projects."

She paused then said, "I found one of your books. But don't worry, I won't tell my dad."

I felt my face get hot and turned to her. "You didn't read it did you?" I started to panic.

She let out a laugh then said, "No way. I'm not into your romance books. Seeing you and my dad is gross enough."

A breathed out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she thought it was just some dumb romance novel. I'd hate to find out it's my fault she was introduced to smut.

Once I had calmed down, I got back to prepping the potatoes while waiting for Hodari to come back.

"Go ahead and get yourself cleaned up, darlin'. I'll take it from here."

He walked in smiling while rubbing his hair with a towel

"Oh! Perfect timing. The steaks are ready for the grill and that's definitely your job."

He laughed and took the steaks outside to cook. I followed before heading for the outdoor bathing area around the house. I washed the dirt off my skin and out of my hair and tried my best to get all the dust out of my clothes. It wasn't perfect, but I felt so much better and much more presentable.

By the time I was done, dinner was ready and the table inside was set. We all sat and enjoyed the meal.

Najuma told us about how Auni was bothering her again about joining him in bug hunting. Hodari talked about a promising new mine. To everyone's surprise, he asked Najuma to join him in checking it out and to come up with a game plan for getting it open.

He's getting there. This is a step in the right direction. I know he's having a hard time letting her back in but I think he's starting to see that keeping her from her Path is only making their relationship worse.

"I'm gonna make some tea. Do you want to try some, Em?"

"I would love some! Thank you," I replied.

She had an excited smile on her face as she got out another teacup.

Once brewed, she brought me the tea. It smelled earthy yet sweet with a hint of mint. I took a sip, and it was delicious. I know Najuma could tell I liked it because she reassured me there were plenty of leaves for another cup or two.

We all sat in silence for a while. This was pretty typical of the Pavel family and I didn't mind. I enjoyed the comfortable quiet that came with being around them.

"Thank you for trying the tea, Ember. My mom and I used to enjoy a some after dinner together. It's nice being able to do that with someone again." Najuma said quietly as she spoke into her cup. I reached out my hand and placed it on her forearm.

"Thank you for sharing something so special with me, Najuma. I'm honored," I said.

She gave me a shy but happy smile and we went back to our tea.

Hodari reached under the table, put a hand on my knee and gave it squeeze. When I looked to him, he had a soft, happy grin on his face. If he wasn't proud of me for the mining, he was for this moment. 

"Well, I'm going to bed!" Najuma said as she hopped from her chair and made her way to her bedroom. We all knew she wasn't actually going to sleep but at least she pretended to.

"Don't stay up too late, now. I want you up bright and early to check out that new spot," Hodari said, but she was in her room before he even finished.

He let out a sigh and I stood up from the table.

"Leavin' so soon, darlin?"

"Not unless you want me to stay a little longer. And if you do, might I suggest we move to a more comfortable spot? Like the couch?"

"Of course I want you to stay. I can't seem to get enough time with you."

We made our way to the living area and sat down. He put his arm around me and I laid my head on his shoulder.

"I saw you lost in that book today." Hodari said.

"The hunting one?" I asked.

"No, the one you forgot on the table."

I felt my face get hot. I let out a nervous laugh then replied, "Oh, that? Its nothing. Just a dumb romance book." I was too embarrassed to look at him.

"Well, I won't 5 it didn't look like nothin'," he said as he gave me a sly smile then let out a chuckled.

"So what're you plans for tomorrow, Em? If you're in the area, you're welcome to come by and say hi. You know I'll always make time for you."

I looked up into his eyes and something inside me was begging me to ask him if I could just stay forever. Not only do I hate the long walk out here but I hate always having to say goodbye.

He could tell something was wrong because his expression changed to concern when he said, "Is there something bothering you, darlin'? You can talk to me."

I couldn't even look at him when I replied, "I was wondering if you'd ever be interested in letting me stay the night?"

He started fumbling for words.

"Well, I, um, I haven't really thought about it."

I knew he was lying, but I could see a little bit of fear in his eyes.

"It's okay. I don't want to push you. I know you want to take this slow, and I understand that. But, I want you to know that I'm ready whenever you're ready."

I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, Em. I'm scared. I'm scared to get close again. I don't want to get hurt, I don't want to hurt you, and I especially don't want Najuma to go through that kind of pain again... From someone leaving... I know I shouldn't worry, but I want to make sure I'm doing this right."

He paused then quietly continued, "When I gave you my pin, I knew I wanted us to be forever."

He was no longer looking at me at this point, so I put my hand on his face and gently turned it towards me.

"Hodari, I will never know how it felt, to go through what you did, but you don't need to be afraid. There is nothing you could do that would make me want to leave." I took a deep breath. "And I decided, long before you gave me your pin, that I wanted to be with you during this life and the next."

I could see the sparkle of a tear in his eye before he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. His kiss was gentle and it set my chest on fire. All I could think of was him. I was lost in his kiss as the room around us disappeared.

I felt one of his hands cup the back of my head while the other found its way to my hip. He kissed me deeper and I couldn't get enough. I kept one hand on his face and placed the other over his heart. It was beating fast. Faster than I would've expected from someone so stoic.

I don't know how much time had passed before we were interrupted but the creak of a door.

We both jumped in surprise and turned to see Najuma sneaking out for her nightly session in the workshop.

Hodari gave her a disapproving look then said, "I'm just gonna pretend I don't see you sneakin' out right now. But don't forget you have a busy day tomorrow."

Najuma slipped out the front door without saying anything.

Hodari let out a sigh.

"Sorry 'bout that. I should've known she'd be out here soon," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. He'd never admit it, but he was embarrassed. Admittedly, I was too.

"It's alright," I said. "You need to be getting to bed soon, anyways. You also have a busy day tomorrow, and it's getting late. I'll stop by breakfast in the morning."

I stood up and made my way towards the front door. I needed to get going or it would be the next day before I even got home.

"Ember, wait."

Hodari stood up and made his way towards me. He took my hands in his.

"Why don't you stay here for the night, darlin'?"

I gasped. "Are you sure? Like, totally sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I'm sure."

"Okay... Well, I can just stay on the couch if that will make you more comfortable."

He gave me a flirtatious smirk before leaning in close to me. I could feel his breath on my neck when he whispered in my ear, "I'll get my bed set for two."

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Hey! If you've read this far, you're a Saint. This came out so much longer than planned. This is my first time writing something that wasn't required of me. I'm still learning and would love feedback. Criticism is welcome as long as it's nice because I take everything personally. If this gets a positive response, I'd love to write a part 2, but it will be NSFW. Let me know, and thanks for reading!

Feel free to share because I'm too scared to 😅

[nuclearpoweredsniper]

to know a gentle body

nobody asked but ur getting it anyways, sniper/reader ficlet that'll probably get a +18 sequel, but for now, yanno (gestures broadly)

gender neutral reader, 2nd person POV, cw for weed and cigarettes, there'll definitely be more tags added when i post the second part

---------

The nights have been going like this for a while. You and the team have dinner, and Mick waits until everyone has left the room, and he asks you if you'd like to hang out with him in his van.

The first time caught you off guard, you'll admit; the Sniper was a quiet man. The longest sentence you'd ever gotten out of him prior was a whopping three words, but you were sure it wasn't shyness. He never seemed uncomfortable in a room with the others, but he stayed at the back and he stayed quiet - and if he could get away with it, he wouldn't be there at all. Always carrying his kukri, always wearing that hat and those shades, all the signs of an animal silently telling you to keep your distance, and so you did. You didn't think he'd approach you first.

He waited until you were alone, washing dishes; he kept a keen ear out for invisible flies on the wall of the French variety, and when he was sure only the breathing of 2 people were present, he cleared his throat.

"So, Jeremy told me you smoke." His voice reminded you of the stroke of an old cello, in an abstract way - low and almost meandering. It startled you but it was nice to hear, for once, not in monosyllables.

"...Yeah. I, um.." You scratched your neck, making a mental note to throw a boot at the Scout later. "I do. Why do you a-"

"Wanna come smoke with me? I have a fuckton of vinyls we can listen to."

You felt like you were making first contact with a different kind, but it was nothing like the movies.

"Uhm... y-yeah? Sure. Why not?"

And so a nightly ritual began.

It was in this way you became close friends, lounging in his little van, the air full of smoke and Pink Floyd, giggling and munching on homemade jerky. You waded in each others shallows, picking up pretty stones in the shape of favorite colors and childhood memories, the time he fought a saltwater croc for 20$, the time you mistook a wild skunk for a dog and almost got sprayed, until slowly the shallows weren't so shallow anymore. Before you realized it, you were sharing first kisses, first heartbreak, traumas, fears, desires.

It turns out you were right - Mick wasn't the least bit shy when it was just you and him. He explained in quite simple terms why he kept his distance from everyone.

"Wankers, the lot of 'em. Tavish 'n Jeremy are just 'bout the only ones I can stand, and even then.." You interjected with a snort - you knew exactly what he meant. He smirked and continued.

"Can't trust that fuckin' spook as far as you can throw him either. Damn stalker." He injected a bit of venom into that point. He was right too, the Spy loved blackmail.

The water was up to your chin when you realized you were looking at him differently - no, seeing him differently, knowing him differently. The tide was rolling in.

His earthen brown eyes lay deep in his skull, which was constructed of sacred, sharp geometry; lines and valleys and rises chipped out of sunkissed marble. Mahogany hair hung just at his shoulders, which were wide and strong; and just peaking out of the collar of his white undershirt, was greying chest hair. When he smiled, his lips pulled back and revealed teeth that almost should've been in the mouth of a wolf, not a man. It split his face in two, it was intimidating, and it was beautiful.

Tonight, you're sitting on the small couch in his van, passing a joint back and forth between you, The Mamas and The Papas crackling softly on his record player. He breaks the near silence with the crunch of the joint being put out in the ashtray, and pulls your legs into his lap. You don't mind, he does this sometimes, he seeks comfort in touch and soft skin - just wants to know a gentle body, and so do you. It's rare in your line of work.

Calloused fingers are tracing nervous lines into your calf, antsy little dots and dashes like frantic morse code and it's noticeably different from how he normally touches you. He's staring at a particular square inch of your flesh and his thick brows are furrowed; he's thinking hard about something. You know by now to just let him brew until he's ready, so you stay quiet, happy to admire his strong profile while he's distracted. You reach down to the floor to grab your cigarettes, pull one out and light it, and he watches you with a strange look in his oaken eyes, but not an unpleasant one. It's a look of complicated depth, of things unknown to you besides a tangible warmth. You stretch an arm abover your head, a few joints popping as you do, and stretch your legs out across his lap, not unlike a cat. As you stretch, you tap the glass.

"What's up?"

He looks away quickly, he didn't realize he was staring.

"I, um... I wanted to, um.."

He's never been nervous like this before.

"I wanted to ask you something." He's gone back to staring at your legs. You sit up on your elbows, a touch nervous yourself, now.

"...Yeah?" You try to take a gentle tone, but it just comes out as timid and small, seeking its own reassurance.

He pauses, he seems like he's rolling the words around in his mouth before saying them.

"You get lonely too, right?"

He's hushed now, his hands deathly still. It's rattling to see him actually nervous like this.

"...What do you mean? We're hanging out right now."

"That's what I mean. You come over, and you stay for a while and it's...." His mouth hangs open for a second like the words are scared to come. "I-I don't.... I don't want you to. Leave.... tonight."

There's a rush in your thorax. You're speechless for a second, almost thoughtless, and you sit up to face him. His lips are tinted red by his teeth worrying at them, those wicked teeth like something out of Dracula.

"Only if you want to, of course. It gets cold out he-"

"I'd really like that, Mick."

When he looks at you, it almost steals your breath. Damn his eyes, full of sepia-tinted expanses, dilated pupils pulling you in like supermassive black holes; you might as well have told him you'd marry him with the hearts and stars dancing in them. He blushes, actually blushes at you, and it'll be a long standing argument in the future about who kissed who first. All you know is that now, you're in his arms.

[sirendeepity]

I hate how Rhysand and the IC suffered no consequences and didn't even have the decency to apologise for withholding such important information from Nesta but Nesta was the one who had to be punished for coming clean to her sister in an attempt to avenge them both (canon). She didn't mince her words while saying how they didn't respect her as the HL and this fact was just never paid any heed in the entire book thereafter ...? Questionable.

She even apologised! (Though there was nothing wrong with what she said but Feyre should have been relayed this info more...gently?)

Never heard Rhysand apologise to her or Feyre.

This MF book gets on my nerves istg

Oh, pookie, I feel you.

SJM's favoritism toward Rhysand is murdering his character. She wants us to believe that he is so good and kind and open-minded and better than everyone because he is just so misunderstood, and then does... This?

Should have Nesta found a more appropriate way to break the news to Feyre? Sure, no one can argue with that. Oh wait, I can, because it shouldn't have been Nesta in the first place. It should have been Rhysand, you know, her mate and husband, or better yet! It should've been Madja!! The very first person who must've realized such a thing would more likely happen since she's their personal healer, but willingly chose to withhold that information from the High Lady mother to later share it in private with Rhysand. Ew. How she still has her job is beyond me. She should have her licence revoked, or whatever. But I digress.

It's not just the act in and of itself (of Nesta telling Feyre), but also everything around it, leading to it. Madja, as I said above, but also the rest of the IC. I'm sorry but, what the fuck? Isn't she supposed to be their friend, too? Their sister? She's their High Lady, for fuck's sake. HIGH LADY!! EQUAL IN EVERY DAMN WAY TO RHYS! And then some, because Rhysand could only wish he was more like Feyre.

And then they had the audacity to punish Nesta for it? For doing what they should've done a long time before? Are we insane?

Feyre didn't even stay mad at Rhys for a full night, but Nesta had to go through that Hike from Hell for a week straight? And Sarah really tried to make it look like that was a long-time-coming thing? Like we, as readers, would see it as a "close the circle" moment, The Healing Of Nesta Archeron? Fuck you, Sarah.

It's been a while now since I started to make a very specific distinction between the Hike scene and the Lake scene.

The lake, when she broke down and cried out 25 years worth of pain and regret? Good, we liked it, it was fifty shades of sad. Closing an eye on the weird beginning of Cassian's monologue being like "I won't tell you how I did x, y and z, but actually I will", but overall it was A Moment.

The hike, on the other hand? Yeah. Not a fucking chance.

Then again, SJM has this weird view of sex, so I can bet Rhys got a good lick between Feyre's legs, maybe fucked her real nice, and that counted as an apology for withholding vital information about the pregnancy from the, you know, pregnant woman. Disgusting.

[serene-sun]

𝕿𝖔𝖔 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊 18+

Paring: any male you’d like x gn AFAB reader (I wrote it thinking of Swiss)

Warnings: rough sex, biting, blood, fingering, low key breeding

A/n: I cc this from me thirsting to friends, so enjoy this whatever

His hands covered in your arousal as your panties hang around your ankles.

Laying in his lap as his palm rubs your clit as his two or three fingers dive into you over and over.

Think about your hips squirming against his hard dick as more and more arousal dribbles out of your clenching my cunt

The sound of wet insides as his fingers curl and hook and tug.

Inching closer and closer to orgasm

His other hand spreading your legs wide, fingernail imprints on your inner thigh ar you spasm on his fingers

Your core feels so good, you need him so bad

His breath is heavy, lips brushed against your neck as he licked up your skin

Mm the way the couch gets all wet, but he kicks off your panties so he can pull you closer and balance you on his lap. He gets frustrated and flips you over back against the couch as he climbs ontop of you, nude form hot and erect. In the process the half empty wine bottle crashes to the floor and its red blood covers the floor.

His cock is so big, he pushed it against your dripping hole

A whine escaped your lips as he pushed in

He whimpers, he didn't expect you to be so deep and hot. Like a wet cave, he plung deeper into you until his base rubs against your throbbing clit. His pubic hair rough on it

You cry, tears escaping your fluttering eyes as he starts thrusting in and out of your hole in a hurried rough pace. The couch hits the wall over and over again as the lamp shade on the table shakes.

Your seeing stars as your breath stays in your lungs. Nails digging into his strong hairy arms that will surely draw blood.

His lips are hot as they go to bite yours. He escaped as he repositions to get a better angle Deeper, harder, slower, his cock pushes against the end of your cunt, cum already spilling deep into your womb as he grabs your breasts. His eyes never leave yours, dark maroon eyes swirling with pleasure and passion and ownership as he starts to cry.

He's like an animal, eating up every shake and scream you give him

He growls, hot ropes of cum filling your cunt as he gives a few deep pleasurable thrusts

He groans, animal noises escaping his hitched breath as he tugs on your hair

He heaves as he pulls out, it tugs a little as it plops out. His long thick girth that meets at the top with a nice firm tip dripping with more cum as he bends down to harshly bite your clit.

Hes so nice and kind on the outside, but once you draw the curtain his animalistic needs and disgusting thoughts take over like a ghost of the past

He wants more, more of the few strains of blood now mixing with his cum on your cunt. He wants to destroy you

He could go forever, more rounds than you could imagine

He rubs his cock agaisnt your slick folds, you whine and claw at his chest as he slips back in. He looks at you, at those pitiful eyes that are oh so innocent compared to this sexual energy that he has

He pumps your pussy full of his cum, and makes you cry and drip with every breath you take. He's already on his 6th orgasm as he pushed you against the wall, a photo falling to the ground and smashing to a million pieces like your dignity did the moment he pulled his cock out during the movies sex scene.

You should've known about this the moment you said yes to coming to his home after the party

And like the moment he first came, he orgasms for the 7th time as he watches your body fall to the floor. Heavy breaths setting panic in your chest as sweat, cum, and an amount of blood paints your two bodies like a story written by love itself.

[wyfy-meltdown]

I FINALLY DID IT!!! SHE IS DONE!!! Meet my first Madoka Magica OC: Komoe Mimura!!!

Below the cut is more info about her ♡✧⁠*⁠。

Bio / Base Information

Name: Komoe Mimura

Wish: "I wish I could grant wishes!"

Age: 16

Height: 5'2

Weapon: Magic Wand

Power: Grant Wishes*

Soul Gem: Purple, Rabbit Head Shaped

Witch Name: Velveteen

*Her ability to grant wishes is limited to things that can be created or destroyed.

Ex: she can grant the wish "I wish I had lots of money" but she cannot grant the wish "I wish I was rich" (one implies gaining something while the other implies altering the current reality).

Ex2: she can grant the wish "I wish [Name] would break up with his girlfriend" and/or "I wish [Name]'s girlfriend died" but she cannot grant the wish "I wish [Name] broke up with his girlfriend" and/or "I wish [Name]'s girlfriend didn't exist". (1&2 implies events that can occur in the future, 3 is past tense [meaning it would have already had to happen, thus altering the reality], and 4 would alter reality).

Personality

Design Breakdown

She has a very optimistic outlook and determined personality. She tries her best to get to know everyone, and her soft voice contradicts her upbeat personality. She absolutely loves magical girls to a stalkerish extent: she's willingly gone into witches labyrinths with hopes of meeting magical girls, and has a diary where she keeps all her information on the "magical girl secret world". She's very girly, and loves feminine things: dresses, long hair, and cuteness are all things she adores. Her favorite pastimes are watching tv, sketching, and hanging out with friends. Often times she can come off as pushy or intimidating (especially to girls she scouts to be magical girls) but she genuinely means no harm, and doesn't ever realise she's acting poorly. She takes great pride in being a magical girl, and her current goal is to thank the magical girl that saved her.

Trivia

I'm not sure if I fully like the design (mainly the waistcoat thing, and I should've given her gloves) but I'm happy I managed to actually draw her. This was a very self-indulgent design (not a sona though) and so I included ungodly amounts of ruffles and pastel pink!

Underneath her skirt is layers and layers of ruffles to the point her legs are not visible, and she has a double sleeve situation (also with ruffles underneath). The teacup & saucer hat is... rough, but I loved the concept and wanted to include it! Her rabbit ears are attached to a headband which has a ribbon on it. Her soul gem is located on her monocle chain; the alternate locations were the rabbit ear headband, one of the hairtie ribbons, and an anklet. I went with heterochromia because I could not decide whether I liked the pink or purple more (I also debated on mint, but I wanted to keep the colour palette analogous), I also struggled with very light purple vs very light pink for the hair; and went with very light pink (but I'm not sure how I feel about it). Those hair flicks near the top of her head aren't real rabbit ears, but are meant to resemble floppy rabbit ears. I wanted her overall design to invoke the feeling of "magical girl" strongly, and I hope I succeeded in that!

Her magic wand shots a magic beam(?) thing from the top (between the ears) and functions like a whip; the hand-guard is based off a rapier's, and the bottom has a sphere that looks like a rabbit tail. Her soul gem features a rabbit head on top, and a clock face (sorta) as the bottom symbol. ALSO! I promise her purple eye is the same colour as the soul gem, the glass shading from the monocle makes the eye look lighter!

Her original wish was "I wish to be a magical girl!" but Inkyuu (the resident incubator) told her to pick a different wish since she'd become a magical girl regardless

She was aware of magical girls before being approached by Inkyuu due to being saved from a witch by a magical girl; she has gained an obsession with magical girls as a result

She uses her power of granting wishes to scout potential magical girls for Inkyuu

Her white rabbit theming is because she leads girls down the rabbit hole of becoming magical girls (the day I stop using metaphors and symbolism for everything is the day I die)

[Adding onto above] She has no particular love of rabbits or Alice in Wonderland, but thinks her theming is cute and so plays into it

She'd either be a mentor figure or an antagonist or possibly both

She either knows the secret of witches or if she found out about the secret of witches she'd probably be supportive of incubators (maybe even intentionally becoming a witch[?])

She hasn't been a magical girl for very long, but is very enthusiastic about it so she's fought many witches

She's very close with Inkyuu and carries him(?) around with her

[burrowbaddie]

Imagine Joe having sex with you underneath a tree

Cabin Fever

Joe Burrow x Reader

A/N: This was such a good request! I hope you like it! Sorry if it sucks a bit. I did have fun writing it, so that's all that matters! Hehe! Thank you for the request!

The June air is warm, and the sun is high in the sky. You sit on the back porch watching your boyfriend resume his workout. He promised you a nice little weekend getaway in upstate New York. But here he was once again zoned in on his football regimen. You lift your shades and put down the book you had been reading.

"Joesph! This is not a mini vacation if all you've been doing is working out!" You yell out to him. Joe takes his AirPods out.

"Did you say something, babe?" He shouts back. You wave him over. Joe puts down the rope and runs over to you. He's shirtless, covered in sweat, with nothing but shorts on. He leans down to kiss your lips, but you turn your head.

"I'm going to make lunch, and I expect you to take a break and join me. over there for a picnic." You point to the tallest tree on the woods' outskirts, aligning the property. Joe groans.

"We just had breakfast, sweetheart."

"That was 4 hours ago. You've been at this nonsense non-stop. Lunch with me, or I'm leaving."

"Fine. But I need to work on a few throws and then-"

"You have 15 mins." You warn him getting up and walking into the cabin. Joe goes back to the field to finish things up. Meanwhile, you begin making lunch. You prepare some sandwiches and a charcuterie board. You pack everything into the basket and grab drinks before heading back out. Joe is still focused on throwing. You walk across the backyard and lay the blanket down underneath the tree. The tree gives you the perfect shade, and you bask in the coolness. Joe has been working under the sun all afternoon. You had put sunscreen on him earlier, but you could tell he would have a bit of a tan; regardless, you hoped it didn't burn too much.

"Joseph!" You wave him over. Your boyfriend holds up five fingers, and you glare at him through your sunglasses. You stand up, putting your hands on your hips, signaling you are not playing anymore. Joe gives you a cheeky smile and puts the football down. He goes inside for 10 mins and returns with a fresh shirt and shorts. You're guessing he washed up because when he sits next to you no longer smells of sweat, but his usual body wash.

"Looks good. Thank you." He grabs a sandwich, and you smile, feeling victory. But for the next 15 mins, he goes on about losing to KC and how he should've played better. Standing up, you lift your sundress, pulling your underwear off, stopping Joe from talking. Normally you love hearing him rant about football, but today was not the day. He promised you a weekend of you and him, no football. Joe licks the vegan mayo off his lips and watches you sit down. You open the strawberries and start eating them slowly. Joe's blue eyes don't stop watching you as you sit back down. He chuckles and places his sandwich down.

"I'm sorry, baby." He crawls over towards you spreading your legs. You play a foot on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for not giving my beautiful girlfriend my undivided attention." He says, kissing your ankle.

"I don't know if I forgive you."

"How can I make it up to you?" Joe's eyes darken as you remove your foot and open your legs. When it came to your pussy, Joe never wasted time enjoying what was in front of him. You can barely get a word out before Joe dives right in. Joe starts licking and twirling his tongue around your clit before spreading your folds for a messy make-out session with your cunt. Your dress shielded Joe from your view, so you had to go on feeling and sound as he slurped between your legs like a starved animal. Joe has perfected his technique; it takes less than a min for you to cum on his tongue, and that was before his fingers even entered you. Joe pushes your dress off his head and sits up while slowly adding two fingers into you. Your legs shake, and your eyes shoot open. Joe is staring down at you with a wide grin. He pushes your trembling legs apart and takes his place between them. Joe bends down to kiss you. The kiss starts off slow, and you try your best to concentrate on his lips, but with Joe being three fingers knuckle deep in your pussy you're losing focus. He slaps your thigh and bites your bottom lip to keep you focused on him.

"Joe, wait, please." You beg, but Joe doesn't let up. You reach down to grab his hands, and Joe smiles against your lips.

"Nu-uh. You wanted this remember? You're ovulating this week. You've been walking around with nothing under your negligee, begging for it. Begging for me to stuff you full. I'm going to give it to you. And you're going to take every last drop." Joe whispers the last part in your ear, and you rain down on his hand cumming again. You've been discussing having children for the last two months. Yes, Joe said you guys could try. So yes, you have purposely walked around like a dog in heat this week. Joe took his fingers out of your drenched pussy and licked them, sucking your juices off each digit. His shorts are pulled down, and his cock springs out. You sit on your elbows, watching Joe altogether remove his clothes. He leaves you in your yellow sundress because Joe has this thing where he loves fucking you when you're half-dressed. He bunches the dress up your waist and grins. Joe slaps the tip of his dick on your pussy before rubbing it against your clit.

"Please. Hurry."

"Slow down, baby." He warns you. Joe slowly inches in, making your legs shake. In and out. He buries himself into you to the hilt, only to slowly drag it out.

"Stop teasing." You cry. With that, Joe grabs hold of your hips and fucks into you faster, giving you exactly what you wanted. He fucks you dumb. Your mouth is open, but you can't get a word or sound out because Joe hits your g-spot repeatedly. Your legs start shaking uncontrollably, and Joe rubs your clit with his thumb, praising you.

"That's my girl, baby. That's it." Joe says, pulling out until the tip to watch you squirt. Your body twitches and Joe uses this time to pull your dress off and toss it in the grass. He pulls you up on his lap, letting you ride him. But you're still in a dazy, so he bounces you up and down. Throwing your head back, you moan his name and tell him how good he feels. Joe kisses your neck, telling you how good it feels inside you.

"Mine. All mine. I fucking love it in here. Never letting this go." He groans into your neck.

"Yours. It's all yours, Joey." Tears prick your water line again because he quickly found your spot. You don't know if you can handle another orgasm just yet. Joe releases your hips and sits back on his hands, watching you work yourself on his dick.

"Make me a mommy!"

"Yeah? You-you want me to make you a mommy?" Joe stutters, feeling himself about to bust. You look down at him, slowly circling your hips now. You're in control now, and you want to tease Joe. But your boyfriend isn't having that. He is forcing you on your back with your knees pressed against your ears in one quick motion.

"Not-Not fair." You whine, feeling him deep inside you. Joe continues fucking you in that position until is cumming. You love this feeling, his warm cum slowly leaking out of your pussy. You're filled to the brim with his seed. Joe lets go of your weak legs, watching them drop flat like dead weights. He bends down to kiss your belly while pushing his cum back into you with his fingers.

"Can't waste it." He whispers against your stomach. You shudder, and Joe turns you over, wanting to enter you from behind. With shaky hands and legs, you get onto your hands and knees. Joe is in you again before you can steady yourself. You hold on to the tree for support, making Joe laugh as he holds your hips.

"Slow mm, slow down."

Joe doesn't slow down. He lets go of the grip on your hips to hold onto the tree. Every time your ass connects with his pelvis, your knees buckle. It feels so good but is too much at the same time. You start biting your bottom lip, trying to keep quiet because you are on the verge of screaming. At one point, Joe holds your right leg up, creating an angle that sends your eyesight out of focus.

"Why are you quiet now?" Joe stops everything, and you whimper when he pulls out.

"I don't want to be too loud." You whisper. Joe smacks your ass, causing you to yelp.

"Who is going to hear you? Hmm, the birds? Deer? A bear? I don't think the animals care, sweetheart."

You turn around, giving him a fuck you look. Joe slides back in. This time he slows down. You are able to sit up on your knees, letting him fuck up into you. Joe links your hand with his and holds them against the tree.

"My pretty girl. So fucking pretty." He kisses the back of your neck.

"Say it. Say you're my pretty girl."

"I'm your pretty girl." You cry out, squeezing his hand. Joe lets go of you and tells you to lay on your back. You reposition and open your legs, allowing him back in. This time Joe kisses you senselessly while he fucks you. He whispers over and over how much he loves you. And you start crying. You full-on sob as Joe cums into you. He pulls out and looks at you, confused. You hide your face from the embarrassment of having a random breakdown. But every time Joe confesses his love to you, it hits you right in the heart.

"I love you so much, Joseph." You sniffle. He leans down, letting you cup his face.

"I love you more than my own life. I'm sorry I ruined lunch." He chuckles, kissing your hand. You shake your head. You're full of food, cum, covered in sweat, and smells of Joe; there is nothing that is ruined. Joe stands up and picks you up bridal style.

"I'm sleepy."

"Baby. We just started. I need to get my work out in somewhere. Plus, babies don't make themselves!"

"Joseph, wait!" You squeal as he takes off in a sprint to the cabin.

It isn't until 8 pm that you emerge from the cabin to clean up the picnic. You can barely stand but need to get things cleaned up before the animals come. Lucky for you, the food is untouched and still in the basket. You grab the clothes, blanket, and basket and return to the cabin. Joe is sitting in the living room on facetime with his brother.

"Tell my sister-in-law I said hello!" His brother shouts. Joe holds up the phone, and you wave. Joe hangs up with his brother and meets you in the kitchen.

"How about we go for a swim later."

"My legs can't handle that right now." You giggle, leaning against him. Joe rubs your back and hums. He reaches down in his shorts, clutching the bright blue Tiffany's ring box. Joe knows the idea of marriage scares you. When you first started dating, you told him that marriage was off the table, but you would be open to cohabitation if it led to that. Joe was completely thrown off during that part, and let's say the first date was the last date. That was until you met again at a college party. That was seven years ago. You guys have broken up and gotten back together. So just maybe, things have changed. Joe didn't just want to make you a mother. He wanted you as his wife too. Even if it's only a thing on paper, as you say, Joe wanted that.

"Did you hear me?" You ask, bringing him back to reality.

"Uhh, sorry. What's up?"

"I'm going to be pretty pregnant, right? Do you think I could pull off Rihanna type looks?"

"Of course. You'd be prettier than her."

"Let's not get carried away, Joseph. No one is touching mother." You laugh, walking away. Joe squeezes the box. It's now or never. He gets down on his knee while your back is turned.

"There's this little vegan place in town. Let's have dinner there. Urgh, but it's really hard to find a good vegan place and the reviews kinda suck." You complain closing the fridge. Joe panics and puts the box back in his pocket.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Just looking at the dust." Joe gets up, laughing. You eye him suspiciously but let him go.

"Let me fix my hair, and then we can go," Joe says, rushing out of the room. You lean against the counter, scrolling Twitter waiting for your boyfriend to return. Joe stuffs the box into a random door and sighs. He's afraid you'll leave him again if he brings up marriage. Maybe it was just better to be with you like this. Joe hopes Tiffany's have a return policy for rings purchased two years ago.