#and I have to be up for work in the morning

[bunnis-monsters]

do you think the cow/bull hybrids would appreciate someone with thicc thighs and a big booty 😵‍💫 i got em irl and im a lil self conscious about em but

smth about a monster seeing someone with my build going "AWOOGA" does excellent things to my self-esteem

NSFW

warning: SIZE DIFFERENCE, tummy bulge, double penetration(two ds in v), breeding, pregnancy, lactation

You had just started working as a farmhand, helping carry out food for the cow hybrids and give them attention to make sure their milk production continued as usual.

They’re a bit dramatic, and if they aren’t given affection and attention, they won’t produce anymore!

So you started to spend a lot of time in the barn, stroking their cocks and milking them yourself.

It wasn’t easy work, but it paid well! It should have been embarrassing when they’d bury their head in your shoudler and moo pathetically while they filled the bucket up with cum, but weirdly enough you found it cute and endearing.

That morning, you pouted a little as you pulled up your jeans, having to jump and squirm to fit them over your fat ass. Your thighs were so plump, and your tummy poked out, to you it was annoying!

But as you strolled through the barn, giving the cow hybrids their food and chatting with the other employees, you never noticed the eyes following you as you walked.

After a few weeks of working there, you were finally allowed into the bull hybrid’s area. They were way more obvious with their staring, not caring to hide the way their cocks stood at attention when you walked by.

“Hey, heifer. You come to breed with us, huh?”

You nearly fell over when a bull hybrid pressed up against your ass, his cock slipping between your clothed thighs. “U-um, I’m not a heifer-“

You yelped when he grabbed a handful of your plump ass, squeezing harshly. “Shh, you’re a runt, aren’t you? Little thing, couldn’t keep my eyes off this fat ass of yours…”

He began to fuck your thighs, groaning into your ear. “Fuck, gonna give you a calf, okay? Bend over for me will y-“

Before he could get your pants down, a cow hybrid spotted him and charged, mooing angrily.

“H-hey! We had her first, you can’t touch!”

The cow hybrid pushed the bull, whining and grabbing at you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling his head against your hair.

The bull huffed, pawing at the ground with his foot, but he couldn’t argue. The herds coexisted peacefully, and he didn’t want to risk a fight breaking out between them over who gets to mate you first.

The bulls would get their turn… but the cows wanted you, had earned you.

The cow guided you back to the barn, cooing and nuzzling against you, his tail wrapped around your leg. He was so big and warm, licking you with his large, flat tongue. “Come, it’s only a matter of time before the bulls get impatient. We’ll mate you first…”

It didn’t seem like you had any choice in the matter… not like you would refuse though, you were already soaking through your panties just from the encounter with that bull alone.

And seeing all the cows gather around you, stroking their cocks and running their large hands over your plump curves wasn’t helping.

“Sorry, little one. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

One of the cows was already pulling your panties off, cupping your fat ass and lightly patting it, in awe as it jiggled.

“I’m okay… j-just…”

You whined, your pussy throbbing with need as you remembered the bull’s thick cock fucking your thighs before you were pulled away.

“Shh, shh…”

Several of the cow hybrids surrounded you, nuzzling into your neck and pushing their cocks between your thighs to fuck them. “Gonna breed you right, okay? Those mean bulls won’t be gentle with you, just a little runt… just a tiny heifer…”

You gasped as one of their fat cocks penetrated you, unable to speak before another one began poking at you, wanting in too.

The first cow fucked into you, licking your neck and mooing in pleasure as the other one whined and nuzzled in closer. They were so soft and fluffy, warm and sweet… but you weren’t sure if you could take two cocks in your pussy at once!

It seemed like it was happening anyways, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth as the second one entered your pussy, the men whining happily and fucking into you as gently as they could manage. You felt like you were being torn apart, stretched to your limits… but it felt amazing.

As they came, they were quickly replaced by others, and everyone got a turn with you, their lovely little heifer.

When your pussy was stuffed full, cum flowing down your thighs, the cows yawned and curled up around you protectively, licking your hair and trying to nest with you.

Farm work was… different after that day. The cows expected to breed you at least once a week, and within a month you were promoted, given free housing on the farm… as long as you kept the livestock happy.

During on outing, you noticed the cows acting a bit agitated, clingy to you more than usual. Despite this, they were leading you towards the bull hybrid barn, even though they had been keeping you away from it since your first encounter.

“It’s time for their turn…” one of the cows muttered with a pout. “Don’t worry, gonna keep you safe… but you gotta breed with them too… only fair…”

You were… excited. You loved the cow hybrids, but the bulls made your pussy throb in excitement.

The second the barn doors opened, all eyes were on you. You were presented before the bulls, only wearing a pair of panties.

“Ain’t a heifer anymore, is she? Bred her good…”

You were a bit confused, not knowing cow terminology… what did that mean?

You didn’t get enough time to think before a bull was crouching down to inspect your warm, soaked pussy. A long, flat tongue licked along your plump folds, making you moan.

“Making cute sounds for me already… when will she start producing?”

One of the cows huffed, pawing at the ground as he approached. “In a few months… once she’s showing you can’t have her, too rough. She’s little, just a runt.”

The bull rolled his eyes, standing at his full height. “Let me see that pretty pussy of yours, little one. Bend over.”

You obeyed, bending over and whimpering softly as he pushed one of his fingers into your needy cunt. “Sucking me in…”

He pulled his finger out, his cock twitching at the wet squelching sound your fat pussy made. “Fuck… needy little thing, aren’t you?”

When he finally pressed his cock against your pretty hole, the size difference between the bull hybrids and cow hybrids became apparent.

The bull was absolutely gigantic, towering over you as he started to push in. The stretch made you whimper and cling to one of the cow hybrids for comfort. Even when two cow hybrids had fucked into you at the same time, it was nothing compared to this!

The bull bottomed out inside you, licking at your neck and cheek with his massive tongue. It was almost difficult to breathe with his cock fucking into you, but it also felt so goddamn good that all you could to was blubber out pleas for more.

The cow hybrids fussed over you, holding your chubby belly as it bulged slightly each time the bull’s hips snapped against yours. They seemed more worried over you than usual, giving you kissing and playing with your throbbing clit.

By the time the bulls had all had their own turn, you were limp, your ass in the air as cum flowed down your fat thighs. You’d never felt so full, so stuffed before…

And you loved it.

Life was different for you after that. You learned a few days later that the reason behind the cow hybrids’ overprotective nature lately was due to you being pregnant with a calf.

As your belly grew heavy and swollen, it seemed you never got a break from your tits being suckled at. You produced so much milk due to being pregnant with a calf, more than any human woman was supposed to.

So you spent most of your days being fawned over, a cow or bull hybrid at your tit and sucking softly. You were always keeping someone’s cock warm, and you couldn’t be happier.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y

[bambiwrites]

Is it too soon to request more CEO!abby anderson X sweet fem!reader please?!

Trophy Wife Pt 2 ౨ৎ ⋆｡

CEO!abby anderson X sweet fem!reader

• A/N ; Hiii omg i really hope you like this i was so excited people like ceo abby cause i’m so inlove!!omg my brain was going brr the entire time i was writing this i actually need her so bad you don’t understand! anyway i hope you guys likeee and please send requestt!!

Warnings ; Possessiveness, slight Degration at the end, name calling, wlw, innocence kink, size kink, naive!reader, age difference!!!(21 and 31) slight breeding kink, slight bondage?

• About ; Abby with her little trophy wife…

• okay so i can imagine you bringing abby to meet your family and they would be pretty against it at first due to the age gap, but seeing how well abby treats you how nicely she takes care of you, they warm up.

• Abby has never liked holidays so when you came into her life always so happy about Christmas, halloween, ect… she was kinda…uncomfortable

• But one day while she was at work and you decorated the penthouse with a big Christmas tree and put out different blankets and pillows, she walked in to see you so happy she couldn’t help but let that cold little heart warm up a bit

• you hate when you two go shopping and you stare at something for more than about 6 seconds and abby is already trying to get you to go in and buy it

• she always tells you it’s her card and that you can buy whatever you’d like but you still feel horrible

• But then again you lol make it up to her at the end of the day ;)

• speaking of, abby would definitely try to have quickies in the Victoria secret changing rooms

• She has you pinned up against the wall as she trails kiss down your neck and chest and her thick fingers pumping in and out of your tight cunt, her hand over your mouth trying to muffle the soft moans

~ “cmon sweet girl be quiet f’me, your doing so good”

• let’s just say that you walked out with a bunch of new stuff and wobbly legs :/

• She would be so happy that she has someone to come home to that cooks for her and greets her with a big kiss and a warm meal everyday

• When she proposed to you and gave you that big rock she always talked about.

• she loved seeing people’s faces when they would try to hit on you and how their face would fall when she walked up wrapping a burly arm around your waist and bringing your hand up kissing just below the ring

• She was so smug with a smirk

~ “who is this babydoll” (melting)

• I feel like reader would definitely love to stay at home and read or bake

• abby would be so happy knowing she has a wife that loves to stay home,meaning no one can ogle at you, she knows it sounds possessive but your hers and no one else’s.

• she loves when it’s late at night and she comes home to see you fast asleep in your guys shared bed

• she immediately crawls into the bed rubbing a hand up and down your side kissing your forehead softly, then whispers

~ “i’m home baby”

• you always make her breakfast in the morning and a protein shake before she goes to workout, you won’t admit it but you love how much bigger she is than you, knowing she can throw you around easily always makes you blush

• She gets so happy when you two finally decide to have kids

• she loves to walk up behind you and rub the bump while kissing your neck softly

~ “god i can’t believe your carrying my kids babydoll”

• you maybe just wanna have another right their

• omg she is rough in bed.

• well she used to be soft and gently knowing how inexperienced you where and how soft

• but one night while she was kissing you softly and raised her hand to softly wrap around your throat and squeeze, you let out a moan and it made her feral

~ “yeah you like that” (brr🫠)

• she loves to fuck you in cowgirl position, she definitely restrains your hands behind your back as she moves your hips with her free hand

• or she is snapping her hips up into you as she watches your tits bounce, she loves seeing those big eyes go glossy as moans tumble out of your month

• speaking of boobs she loves yours omg, always coming up behind you and grabbing them or when your having sex she’s licking and sucking and pulling god.

• loves fucking you doggy style, watching as you grip the sheets and the side of your face smushed against the bed as she hold your hips tightly pounding into you

anyway i’m done bye bby’s!!

[ham1lton]

don’t trust the bitch in apt 33!

pairings: max verstappen x reader.

summary: your new apartment in monaco is amazing. it’s close to your friends, family and work, it has incredible amenities and your neighbours for the most part seem kind. the only issue is your upstairs neighbour, who games all night and sleeps all day, and is insufferably loud while doing it.

author’s note: also this is a little longer than my usual smaus. the usernames might also be slightly different as this is an au!!also i am updating my taglist!

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

liked by bestie1, bestie2 and 245 others.

yourusername: moving day done!! shout out to my sexy movers <3

tagged: apartmentrush.

view all 78 comments

bestie1: the pizza was soooo good 😋

-> bestie2: so yum 😋

-> bestie1: so good… we should come around again this week and have it again??

-> bestie2: yes….. we should….

-> yourusername: 🙄 fine. come round on saturday!

workbestie: so excited to see you at work on monday!!

-> yourusername: me too!!! i’ll bring the coffee <3

apartmentrush: welcome to our community!

-> yourusername: glad to be here :)

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

liked by landonorris, max.fan1 and 1,728,982 others.

gamermax: just completed another successful 24 hour stream! thank you all for helping me raise money for the sassy animal shelter! also thank you @ landonorris for stocking my fridge up!

view all 234,793 comments

user1: ur so fine.

-> user4: was i the only one staring at his hands the entire stream????

-> user9: i mean. we barely see his face, that’s probably why.

georgerussell63: lando is trying to kill you! that’s why he’s an awful community president. all that redbull will have your heart exploding.

-> landonorris: not this shit again 🙄

-> georgerussell63: profanity on a public platform? another TICK against your name.

user7: is it truly a max post without a cat meme?

*liked by gamermax.*

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

from lnorris4@rushapartment.co.uk.

to grussell63@rushapartment.co.uk, c.leclerc16@rushapartment.co.uk, lhamilton44@rushapartment.co.uk, ynln77@rushapartment.co.uk, mverstappen33@rushapartment.co.uk and 45 others.

subject: MEETING REMINDER.

thanks,

lando norris.

rush apartment president.

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you head upstairs to knock on this max’s door, dressed in your night clothes. your sleep mask across your forehead, your bonnet on and your skin still glistening from your skin routine. you knock on the door loudly. you hear swearing as someone falls over and then stands to open the door. the door opens to show a twenty something guy with a pair of streaming headphones on his head. he gives you an obvious look up and down before tilting his head in confusion.

“uh, can i help you?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“you can start by keeping it down,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “some of us need sleep.”

his eyes widen slightly, and he pulls the headphones down around his neck. “oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i was being that loud.”

“well, you are,” you retort. “it’s three in the morning, and i have to work tomorrow. this is ridiculous.”

he runs a hand through his messy hair, looking genuinely apologetic. “i didn’t know anyone was in the apartment below. no one’s been there for a while. i’m max, by the way.”

“yn,” you reply shortly, not in the mood for pleasantries. “just please, keep it down.”

“i will, i promise,” max says earnestly. “i’ve got these noise-canceling headphones, and sometimes i forget how loud i’m being. i’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

you study him for a moment, still irritated but starting to believe his sincerity. “okay. goodnight, max.”

“goodnight, yn,” he replies, giving you a small, apologetic smile. “and good luck at work tomorrow.”

you turn to leave, feeling a mix of lingering frustration and unexpected intrigue. as you head back downstairs, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually keep his promise.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

MEETING TRANSCRIPT.

[sound of murmuring voices and rustling papers as the meeting starts]

NORRIS: alright, everyone, let's get started. we’re here to address some noise complaints. yn, you had a specific issue?

LN: (angrily) yes, my upstairs neighbor, max, keeps making noise late at night. i've talked to him, but it hasn’t stopped.

RUSSELL: (salty) typical. this is why i should have been president. i would’ve sorted this out immediately.

NORRIS: (sighs) george, not now. let’s focus on the issue at hand. alex, any thoughts?

ALBON: (trying to smooth things over) well, it’s important for everyone to be considerate of their neighbors. but, you know, people have different schedules. maybe max can use quieter equipment?

HAMILTON: (working on his laptop, half-heartedly) yeah, yeah. quieter equipment. great idea. can we move on? i’ve got a deadline.

LECLERC: (confused) what’s going on again? can we just finish this? i want to go home and see my uh… friends.

TSUNODA: (munching on snacks) i brought these for everyone! maybe we can bribe max with food to be quieter?

LN: (exasperated) i don’t think snacks will solve the problem. i just want to sleep in peace.

NORRIS: (rubbing his temples) max isn’t here because he owns his apartment, and these meetings are mandatory for renters or new buyers. so, we’re kind of stuck.

RUSSELL: (grumbling) see? this is why lando’s presidency is a joke.

NORRIS: (angry) oh give it a rest, george!

ALBON: (egging them on) oh, come on, george. let’s not make this about the election again. unless you want us to go over our allocated time.

HAMILTON: (still working) can we wrap this up? i’m really busy here.

BUTTON: (chuckling) you’re always busy lewis.

RUSSELL: jenson why are you even here. these meetings aren’t mandatory for you.

BUTTON: (smirking) maybe i like the company.

LECLERC: (standing up) i’m leaving. this is pointless.

TSUNODA: (offering more snacks) anyone want some chips before we go? charles, you’ll need the energy when you go visit your ‘friends’ later.

HAMILTON: and let them know to keep it down, some of can’t work through all that noise.

LECLERC: (blushing) uh, yeah, sure... i’ll let them know.

NORRIS: (defeated) fine. meeting adjourned. we’ll try to talk to max again, but for now, let’s just… go back to our lives.

[sound of chairs scraping and people leaving, with no resolution in sight]

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•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

new taglist: @23victoria @maxlarens.

— want to be tagged for any future works? join my new taglist!

[heich0e]

iwaizumi got a lower back tattoo on his 21st birthday.

if you showed one hundred people in the street a photo of 30-year-old hajime, and then surveyed them as to whether or not they think he has a lower back tattoo, it's unlikely more than one of them would say yes—and even the one who did probably just misheard the question. it's as unbelievable a thought as any, and still somehow it's true.

he was 21, legally drunk for the first time in america, and hanamaki and matsukawa had finally come to california to visit him to mark the occasion. it was kind of a stupid trip, they realized afterwards, because issei and hiro were still only 20 and couldn't even go out to the bars near UC irvine that all of iwa's college friends were inviting him out to for the first time.

but he didn't mind.

he bought them beer and sugary canned cocktails from the convenience store near campus using the birthday money his nanay sent him, silently repenting in his mind as the store clerk in the polyester vest rang the expensive purchase through. then they all got drunk in iwa's tiny student apartment while they played video games, called oikawa, and eventually wandered out into the warm california night in search of food.

the details beyond that are fuzzy, but the lines inked into the little space at the bottom of hajime's spine are not—even after nine whole years.

most people have no idea about the tattoo—and hajime has gone to great lengths to keep it that way. he wears a compression t-shirt at the gym so there's no risk of it riding up and accidentally revealing it. he orders patches to conceal it on the rare occasion he goes to onsens. he never showers with the athletes at work, always either opting to shower at home, shower after the team, or use the staff facilities when available.

but in spite of all of that, he's not embarrassed of it.

he doesn't even really regret it.

it's just not anybody else's business.

the ink on his skin is a secret kept between him, matsukawa, hanamaki, the guy who tattooed him, and oikawa who was screaming on facetime in the background while it happened.

and now you, too.

your hand snakes up the back of hajime's sweatshirt as he stands at the stove preparing breakfast, cool fingertips tracing the curls of ink even without seeing them—having long mapped them to memory. hajime suppresses a shiver, not expecting the contact, as you crowd yourself closer to his back and lean your weight against him.

"i was trying not to wake you," he says quietly, the hand not holding the chopsticks he's flipping his omelette with reaching behind him in search of you.

"you didn't," you murmur into his back, catching his seeking hand in yours and twining your fingers together. "smelled food."

hajime laughs to himself, his eyes crinkling. he squeezes your fingers tightly as his heart thuds in his chest.

underneath his sweatshirt, your nails rake lightly against his skin.

"shouldn't i be making your breakfast?"

hajime transfers his omelette to the plate waiting beside the stove, flicking off the burner and then turning to face you. he wraps his arms around you and holds you properly now, your face burrowing into the collar of his hoodie the way you always do, his nose brushing your temple.

"wanted to let you sleep a bit longer," hajime grunts out, his cheeks burning a bit hot—still shy, sometimes, even after so much time has passed. "thought you might be tired after..."

you snort, your head popping up to look at him. "after you fucked me within an inch of my life into the wee hours of the morning?"

the fire burning under hajime's skin grows even hotter. he splutters a little, and struggles to meet your gaze.

"i'm not tired," you whisper, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. the incorrigible one he fell in love with. "we were celebrating, after all."

hajime's eyes are burning a little bit, to complement the stinging in his cheeks. you lift your hand up to his face so you can feel the heat of his skin, and he rests his own hand—larger, more calloused than your own—to rest overtop of it. he looks at you, and sees happiness reflected back at him in your gaze. so fathomless he thinks he could drown in it.

hajime turns his face into your touch, and his eyes flutter closed as he noses against your palm.

he presses a kiss there. soft. adoring.

then another, just slightly higher, to the ring he put on your finger the night before.

he peeks at you again, that same heat in his cheeks, though not nearly as unbearable.

he's got another secret he doesn't regret now, one just as permanent as the ink in his skin, but this one won't stay hidden long. eventually he'll call his parents, and his nanay will probably get teary. then he'll tell his friends, who will put his mother's tears to shame. he'll leave the tattoo artist out of it this time, though—wherever that guy is now.

"happy birthday, hajime," you whisper to him with a smile he can't help but return.

he might keep this secret between the two of you today, though. just for a little while longer.

it'll be his gift to himself.

[authorhjk1]

hii! this is my first time sending something like this, but I want to secure Karina for color blue. I mean, look at her in that dress. it literally screams EASY ACCESS. besides, her official color is blue. gotta give it to her fosho

Blue

(Karina X Male Reader)

Your girlfriend's moans echo through the room as you drive yourself deeper into her. She is leaning against one of the arcade games, her back pressing against the screen.

"I can't take it anymore!"

Karina whines as you keep groping her tits over her dress.

"Please, baby! Let me cum!"

She closes her eyes, determined to not cum without permission. But it becomes harder and harder for her.

"No. Admit it first!"

That's the whole reason, why you're railing her into the machine behind her.

"A-Admit what?"

Karina tries to play innocent. She knows she is wrong, but she would never admit it. Not in a million years.

"I'm gonna use you, until I brake you."

You growl at her, annoyed by her antics.

"As if."

A yelp escapes her mouth shortly after her reply.

"Oh trust me. I can go until tomorrow morning."

To make your point, you reach for the straps of her dress. Pulling them off her shoulders, you start to undress Karina, while you keep fucking her hard and fast. Her legs are wrapped around yours, the heels of her white shoes dig into your lower back.

Her dress has already been bunched up around her waist, when you started to fuck her. And now, you pull the upper part of her dress down. You expose her tits, earning another moan from her.

"I-I can't hold it in anymore."

Karina sighs, begging you to give her a break.

You eventually give in. You thrusts slow down as Karina tries to catch her breath. Your hard pounding will make it difficult for her to walk comfortably tomorrow.

Just when Karina lets her guard down, you lean forward capturing one of her nipples with your mouth.

"Oh my god."

A deep groan escapes her mouth as she feels your tongue flick against the light brown nub. You have your way with your girlfriend's chest, occasionally switching sides. Soon, her nipples are covered in your spit. She is barely able to hold on as you keep moving inside of her. You go very slow, but you are still dragging your cock along her walls.

Karina starts to repeat your name again and again as you begin to work towards your former pace. Your face is still buried in her tits, you thrust forward, rocking her against the machine.

"I-I'm gonna cum!"

"No!"

You speak into her chest and for a moment, it seems like she didn't hear you, but then you feel her taking deep breaths, trying to push through her pleasure. Due to your tortures licks and thrusts, a small puddle has formed on the ground, right underneath Karina. Her juices drip off your cock, whenever you pull out halfway. And her head rolls back, whenever you bury yourself to the hilt inside her snatch.

"Fuck, Karina."

You are starting to approach your own orgasm. Your girlfriend's tight pussy doesn't give you much of a choice. It has an unbreakable grip on you. You can feel how even more blood rushes towards your cock, making it even harder as your body starts to prepare itself.

Karina must feel it too. Her moans and whines grow louder yet again. She knows that, if you cum inside of her, she won't be able to hold back her own climax. And that's exactly what you are going for.

"You make such a pretty cum dump."

You tease her, wanting to humiliate her, after what she has done. Karina tries to grasp onto the last straw of self-control and honor she has left. You feel her tighten around you as you throb inside of her. Your hands roam her naked skin, your lips peppering her upper body with kisses.

"Oh god, Karina."

You growl into her ear, sending goosebumps down her spine.

"Alright! Alright! I admit it!"

Her eyes are shut tight as she is too embarrassed to look at you.

"I-I'm the one who ate your ice cream."

"Knew it."

You whisper into her ear as you slowly leave her pussy. Only your tip touches her lower lips. The both of you stare into each other's eyes. Your next thrust is the final one.

[babyleostuff]

fanservice

𝜗𝜚 theme: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 pairing: idol!mingu x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 word count: 944

・ ❥ ・ jealousy is a disease when it comes to kim mingyu and his fanservice

“i’m not your strongest soldier lol don’t play with me rn.” 

you rolled your eyes at the caption, and scrolled past the video that had been haunting you for the past couple of days. ever since the boys’ fan meeting last monday your fyp had been going crazy with videos of your boyfriend holding hands and comparing hand sizes with his fans. 

and that wasn’t even the worst part. 

your man was the definition of fanservice, him holding hands with others and making puppy eyes at them wasn't anything new, hell - how many times had he asked you to take his “boyfriend” photos he later posted on instagram, while looking like a literal walking dream. he loved making people go crazy on a daily basis, so it wasn’t like the hand holding bothered you. 

what bothered you was the lovestruck expression, the annoyingly gentle, sparkly eyes, the perfect fucking black hair falling over his forhead, the soft smile, the gaze that never left the person in font of him. 

you weren’t sure where the sudden surge of possessiveness came from, but oh my god, there was a limit of what you could take, and if only you remembered your twitter password you would’ve logged out a long time ago. you knew exactly who this look was reserved for, and it was you, and you only, so why was he suddenly going around looking at others like they hung the moon and the stars in the sky. 

“baby?” mingyu’s voice echoed from your bedroom. “have you seen my black dior hoodie?”

you were too busy scrolling past yet another tik tok to answer your boyfriend. besides, who cared about a hoodie when he was basically cheating on you?  

“and what are you gawking at, huh?” you muttered under your nose, as the girl in the video squealed when mingyu took her hand in his. you weren’t sure why you were working yourself up so much. it’s not like you were jealous of the way his thumb was running over her palm. or how their fingers intertwined perfectly.

thinking you didn’t hear him from the other room, mingyu gave up on his mission to find the hoodie he was sure he saw in the closet just this morning, and walked out to the living room to look for you. “baby, did you h-,” he didn't have to look at you twice to see who exactly stole the piece of clothing he was searching for. “there it is,” he beamed, a smile blooming on his face. his heart never failed to turn into mush whenever he saw you dressed in his clothes, especially the oversized ones that made you look like an adorable teddy bear. 

“i can give it back if you want,” you mumbled, your eyes still glued to your phone. 

“it’s fine, i’ll just find another one, but tell me,” mingyu crooked an eyebrow at your frown, and walked over to where you were not so happily occupying the armchair he and wonwoo decided on buying last month, “what the hell got you pouting like that?” 

you didn’t notice your boyfriend standing behind you until it was too late. “huh?” too slow to turn off the phone, you spun around to find mingyu behind you with an annoying smirk on his face. “i wasn’t pouting,” you tried to argue, as you slipped the phone under your thigh. he laughed, and tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“baby?” he crouched down, and placed his chin on your shoulder. 

“mhm?” maybe playing stupid would help. 

“why were you watching videos from the fanmeeting, hm?” he asked innocently, like he didn’t know exactly why. 

you groaned, and turned around, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. there was no way you’d admit to being jealous of some girls for holding your boyfriend’s hand when you literally did that 24/7. 

“you know you literally get to cuddle and kiss me, right? it’s not like they’re going to steal me from you,” he said. you didn’t have to look to know that he had this infuriatingly handsome smile on his face that always made your knees weak. 

“stop being so smug about it, kim mingyu,” you mumbled, and hit his chest. 

“never.” 

he grabbed the back of your neck gently and peeled you of him, much to your reluctance. a pang of self-consciousness suddenly hit you because what if he thought you were acting immaturely over this? “listen,” he walked around the armchair to kneel in front of you. “whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” grabbing your face tenderly, he ran a thumb over your cheek. “i’m yours, remember?” 

“i know, it’s just-,” 

“let me finish, yeah?” you nodded and kissed his palm, encouraging him to keep going. maybe that was just what you needed today? a bit of reassurance and his words of affirmation. because if there was one thing that kim mingyu was good at, it was making you feel secure and loved. 

“i know it can be hard looking at those videos and whatnot, and you know why i act how i act when it’s needed. but i love you. you. and no matter how many hands i have to hold or how many people i have to pretend to flirt with, it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the day all i want is to come home to you. ‘k baby?” 

too overwhelmed to say anything, you just nodded quickly, and threw your arms around his shoulders, so he wouldn’t see your teary eyes. 

“you’re really mine?” you asked, sniffling quietly. 

“all yours. only yours.”

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[radiant-reid]

Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

[joelmillerisapunk]

Howdy Honey I. can't get you off my mind

series masterlist masterlist

wordcount: 6,709

summary: After a tumultuous fall from your horse that leaves you with a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, you find solace in the strong arms and gentle care of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand whose rugged exterior hides a tender heart.

warnings: mentions of falling, fracture, eventual smut, slowburn, age-gap, some fluff, two stubborn people falling in love, angst, from both your and Joel's pov

notes: First of all thank you to all of you for supporting the masterlist, I am absolutely blown away! I appreciate the heck out of you all so very much! <3 <3 Second thank you sm to @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for screaming with me about all of this ily both <3 Third I wrote this after my own experiences falling off a horse and being carried by a hot cowboy at work. K I'm gonna go panic, love you all bye. gif is by @tomshiddles divider by @saradika-graphics

The sun is high and unforgiving, casting a golden hue over the sprawling acres of your family's ranch—a place where the West still feels wild and untamed. The ranch, nestled in a valley surrounded by rugged mountains, is a patchwork of green pastures, dotted with grazing cattle and horses. The main house, a sturdy two-story structure with a wraparound porch, stands proudly at the heart of the property, its whitewashed walls and red roof are like a beacon for the lost amidst the vast expanse of land. You can always find your way back home.

To the east lies the stables, a long, low building with enough room to house two dozen horses comfortably. Its wooden walls have weathered to a soft gray, and the scent of hay and horse is always present in the air. Just beyond the stables is the equipment barn, filled with tractors, balers, and all manner of tools necessary for maintaining the ranch. The sound of metal clanging against metal often echoes from within as ranch hands tend to repairs or prepare for the day's work. A little further out is the chicken coop, bustling with activity as hens peck at the ground and roosters crow their morning greetings.

On the southern end of the ranch, a series of fenced-in training pens are set up for breaking in new horses or for practicing roping skills. It's here that you often find the newly hired ranch hand, Joel Miller, expertly mending a section of split-rail fence or guiding a young colt through its paces with patience and skill honed over decades. 

You've grown up with the scent of hay and the sound of hooves on dirt, a life that's as much a part of you as the blood in your veins. Recently, your parents brought on a few new ranch hands, a decision driven not only by their advancing years and a growing wanderlust but also, you suspect, by a desire to ensure you're well looked after in their absence. It didn't seem to matter how many times you'd promised that you and [name] the very first and only other person hired to help around, could take care of the ranch -  they never let go of the fact you weren't five anymore. 

Today you find yourself working a little less hard because of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand that looks like he stepped straight out of a Western movie. You watch him from afar as you make your way to take your horse out, his muscles straining against his plaid shirt as he repairs a section of fencing. He moves with an easy grace despite his age and broad build. His salt-and-pepper hair peeks out from under his worn cowboy hat, and you can't help but feel a pull towards him, something beyond the usual respect for a seasoned hand.

The ranch is alive with activity as you prepare Daisy for her daily run. The horses in the nearby pasture lift their heads at your approach, their ears pricked with curiosity. Daisy nickers softly, her tail swishing in anticipation as you lead her out of her stall and toward the open pasture. As you trot along one of the well-worn trails, you pass by landmarks that tell stories of your family's history; there's an old rusted tractor from your grandfather's time, now half-buried in wildflowers; a grove where you used to play hide-and-seek with your siblings; and further on, an ancient stone marker placed by settlers who once claimed this land as their own. Each sight brings back memories that are as much a part of you as they are a part of this place. 

But today, these familiar sights are merely blurs in your peripheral vision as Daisy gallops across the landscape. The wind whips through your hair, and you feel a rush of adrenaline as the horse's muscles move powerfully beneath you. It's in these moments that you feel most at peace, in harmony with the natural world around you.

Suddenly, a sharp cry from Daisy breaks the rhythm of her gait. You pull sharply on the reins as a jackrabbit darts out from the underbrush, its sudden appearance startling her. In an instant, your peaceful ride turns to chaos. Daisy rears up, her eyes wide with fear, and you're thrown from the saddle, the world a blur of blue sky and golden earth. The impact is jarring, knocking the breath from your lungs as you hit the ground hard. Pain radiates from your side and arm. As you lie there, struggling to catch your breath, Daisy gallops away towards the safety of the stables, leaving you alone in a cloud of dust.

The sun beats down mercilessly upon you as waves of pain wash over your body. You try to move but find that even breathing is a challenge. You try to push yourself up, but a wave of nausea forces you back down. It's then that you hear the pounding of hooves approaching fast and boots hitting the ground. 

"Easy there, easy," a familiar voice drawls as strong hands gently roll you onto your back. Joel's face swims into view, his brow furrowed with concern. "Looks like ya had a bit of a tumble, darlin'. Can you tell me where it hurts?" His voice is deep and soothing, cutting through the haze of pain. You manage to point to your side, wincing as he carefully probes the area. "Just bruised, I reckon," he says after a moment, his touch is surprisingly gentle for such calloused hands. "Your arm too. We should get ya back to the house. Might have t'see the doctor."

Over my dead body, you think to yourself.

With surprising ease, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You can't help but notice the warmth radiating from his body. It's an intimacy that makes your breath hitch in your throat—a sensation that has nothing to do with your injuries.

"Gave me quite the scare there darlin," Joel remarks as he carries you towards his waiting horse. His tone is light but there's an undercurrent of something else—affection? worry? "What were you thinkin’ taking Daisy out alone after that storm last night? These trails can be treacherous."

You want to argue that you're capable and don't need help, that it was just a routine ride and something spooked Daisy but arguing takes energy—energy that's currently in short supply thanks to the pain radiating from your side and shooting through your arm. Instead you murmur a weak apology. "Didn't think it’d be a problem."

Joel chuckles softly. "Well, I reckon that's part of the adventure, ain't it? Never quite knowing what the day's gonna bring." He adjusts his hold on you slightly, his grip firm yet careful. "But next time, maybe wait for someone to come with you. Safety in numbers and all that."

As he settles you onto his horse, he keeps a steady hand on your back, “you okay darlin?” He asks, making sure you're secure before you nod and he swings up behind you as gently as he can. The closeness is overwhelming; his body is a solid wall of heat at your back, and you can feel the muscles in his thighs as they grip the horse's flanks. It's a strange mix of vulnerability and safety, being so close to this man who just (weeks/days?) ago was a little more than a stranger.

The ride back to the ranch is a blur of sensations—the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath you, the scent of leather and sweat mingling with Joel's unique aroma of woodsmoke and something undeniably masculine. You find yourself leaning into him without thinking, seeking comfort in his strength.

"Almost there," Joel reassures you as the house comes into view. His breath is warm against your ear, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. "We'll get some ice on those bruises and take a look at you."

Once at the ranch house, he carries you inside and sets you down gently on the living room couch crouching beside you to remove your boots. His fingers brush against your skin accidentally as he works them off one by one—a touch that sends sparks racing along your nerves despite yourself and despite any rational thought about how much older he is than you. You quickly blink them away.

"Ice pack," he commands firmly but kindly before disappearing into the kitchen. You hear the clinking of ice being scooped from the freezer. 

As Joel returns from the kitchen, the air in the room shifts subtly. He kneels beside you on the couch, his movements deliberate and gentle. "This might be a bit cold at first," he warns, his voice carrying a hint of gruffness that hadn't been there before.

You nod, bracing yourself for the shock of cold. But when he lifts the hem of your shirt to expose your bruised side, the brush of his fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach sends an unexpected wave of heat coursing through you. It's a clinical touch, meant only to aid in your recovery, but the proximity of his hands to the curves of your body is not lost on you.

He places the makeshift ice pack against your side, the cold seeping your body. You can't help the sharp intake of breath as the icy chill envelops the tender area. Joel's eyes flick to yours, concern etched across his features.

"Sorry, darlin'," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "I know it's uncomfortable, but it'll help with the swelling."

You give him a small, reassuring smile, trying to convey that you understand—that you appreciate his attentiveness. As he holds the ice pack in place, his other hand comes to rest on your hip, a steady presence that seems to anchor you amidst the discomfort.

The room is silent save for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional crackle of ice as it begins to melt against your skin. You can feel the heat of Joel's palm through the fabric of your jeans, and you find yourself acutely aware of every point of contact between you.

After a few minutes, he slowly lifts the ice pack away, his eyes scanning your side with a practiced eye. "How does it feel now?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate within you.

"A bit better," you admit, the pain having dulled to a manageable ache.

He nods, his attention still focused on your injury. With a gentle touch that belies his rugged exterior, he traces the edge of the bruise with his fingers, his touch feather-light yet firm. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for his next move.

"You're gonna be sore for a few days," he says. "But I think you'll live."

As he withdraws his hand, you feel an odd sense of loss, as if the warmth of his touch had become a lifeline in the midst of your pain. You watch as he rises to his feet, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"Thank you, Joel," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The words feel inadequate, but they're all you have to offer in this moment.

The corners of Joel's mouth twitch into a small smile, and he gives a nod, turning back towards the kitchen 

While he's gone, you take the opportunity to study him from afar as he walks through the open room to the kitchen. There's an air of quiet strength about him, a sense of resilience. You find yourself wondering about his past—where he came from, what brought him here to your family's ranch. But those questions will have to wait for another time; right now, just talking and moving is enough of a challenge without adding an interrogation into the mix.

Joel returns with a glass of water and some painkillers. "Here," he says gently, helping you sit up enough to swallow the pills before lying back down against the cushions with a wince at the sharp pain in your side again.

“Rest up now," Joel instructs. “I'll take care of things around here for the rest of the day. You just focus on healin.”

You drift in and out of sleep on the couch and everytime you drift out you see Joel lingering around keeping watch over you like some kind old west guardian angel dressed in denim. 

As the day wanes and the shadows grow long across the hardwood floors, you stir from your uneasy slumber. The pain in your side is a dull roar now, thanks to the medication Joel provided. You blink slowly, your eyes adjusting to the dim light of the living room. The ranch is quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old house settling and the distant sound of Joel's voice as he talks to one of the horses in the stable.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him—his rugged features, his gentle touch, and those eyes that seem to see right through you. It's a dangerous path your thoughts are taking, but you can't help it. There's something about Joel that draws you in, despite the years between you.

The front door opens with a soft squeak, and Joel steps inside, his boots leaving a trail of dust on the floorboards. He looks weary but satisfied, his shirt damp with sweat from a hard day's work. His gaze finds you instantly, and a warm smile spreads across his face.

"You're awake," he observes needlessly as he approaches. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," you admit with a small grimace as you try to sit up straighter on the couch. "But better than before." You didn't want to admit how bad your arm was actually killing you.

Joel nods in approval before disappearing into the kitchen again—a man of few words but many actions. He returns a bit later with a steaming mug in hand and offers it to you carefully so as not to spill any on your lap. 

"Chamomile tea," he explains gruffly when he sees your questioning look at what seems like an unusual choice for someone like him, someone who seems more accustomed to strong black coffee than herbal infusions. "It'll help with any lingering pain and help ya sleep." 

You take a tentative sip; making sure to grab the cup with your good hand it's sweetened just how you like it—a small detail that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly because it means he's been paying attention even when he didn’t have to be.  The warmth seeps into your hands as much as into your insides making everything feel less daunting all at once despite your injuries.

The evening settles in, casting a cozy glow over the living room. The ranch is quiet, the animals bedded down for the night, and the chores all done. Joel lingers, his presence a comforting constant in the otherwise empty house. He settles into the armchair across from you, the lines of his face softened by the dim light.

"You should eat somethin’," he suggests, already rising from his chair. "I'll fix ya up a plate."

Before you can protest, he's back in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes and the smell of food wafting through the air. You can't help but smile at his insistence. It's been a long time since anyone has taken care of you like this.

Joel returns with a tray balanced in one hand—a simple meal of soup and a sandwich, cut into manageable pieces. He sets it down on the coffee table, pulling it closer to you. "Eat up," he urges, his tone gentle but firm. "You need to keep your strength up."

As you eat, he watches you, his gaze never straying far. It's an odd sensation, being the focus of such intense attention, but you find yourself not minding it. There's a sense of security in his watchfulness, a feeling that you're not alone in this big house.

When you've finished eating, Joel takes the tray away, leaving you to sip your tea in peace. The painkillers are starting to wear off, and as you move to adjust your position on the couch, a sharp, stabbing pain shoots through your arm, causing you to yelp in surprise and discomfort.

Joel, who has been quietly cleaning up the remnants of dinner in the kitchen, is at your side in an instant. "What is it?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Did you move wrong?"

"It's my arm," you admit through gritted teeth, cradling the injured limb with your other hand. "I think I might have aggravated it."

With a nod, Joel gently takes your arm in his hands, his touch firm yet gentle. He probes the area with practiced ease, watching your face for any signs of pain. When he reaches a particular spot, you can't help but flinch, a hiss escaping your lips. “Shh, I know. Easy, easy," he soothes you like a wounded animal, before releasing your arm. His brow is furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't like the look of this. Could be broken, or at least badly sprained. We need to get you to a doctor first thing in the mornin’."

"I'm sure it's fine, Joel," you argue weakly, not wanting to cause a fuss. "It's probably just a bad bruise. I'll be okay after a good night's sleep."

But Joel is having none of it. "No, it ain't fine," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You could be doin’ more damage by not getting it checked out. I'll drive you to the clinic myself in the morning. This ain’t up for debate."

You know that look on his face—it's the same one he wears when he's dealing with a stubborn horse or a difficult piece of machinery. There's no point in trying to dissuade him when he's made up his mind. And truthfully, the idea of having a professional assess your injuries is somewhat of a relief.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, the fight draining out of you. "I'll go to the doctor in the morning."

Joel's expression softens, and he gives your good shoulder a gentle squeeze. "That's the smart choice, darlin'. We'll get you fixed up in no time."

As he moves away to finish tidying up the kitchen, you find yourself watching him, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swirling within you. Despite the pain and the uncertainty of your injuries, you can't help but feel a sense of safety and comfort with Joel around. You're taken from your thoughts when Joel comes back into the living room. "I should be gettin’ home," Joel says after a while, his voice low and reluctant. "But I'll be back first thing to check on you."

You nod, trying to hide your disappointment. The house feels too big, too empty to be without him in it. "I'll be okay, Joel," you assure him, trying not to worry him, though the words taste like a stale cigarette on your tongue. "Thank you for everything."

He gives you a long, searching look before nodding slowly. "Alright then," he says, rising from his chair. "You remember what I said about not pushin’ yourself too hard?"

"Yes," you reply with a small smile. "Rest and recovery."

"That's right," he affirms, pulling on his jacket. "And don't hesitate to call me if you need anything—no matter the time."

You watch as he heads for the door, his silhouette framed by the night outside. Just before he steps out into the darkness, he turns back to you, his eyes reflecting the soft light of the living room. "Goodnight darlin," he says, his voice carrying a hint of something unspoken.

"Goodnight, Joel," you whisper back, the words hanging in the air long after he's gone.

The house is silent once more, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner. You finish your tea and carefully set the mug aside, the warmth of it still lingering on your lips. With a sigh, you settle back against the cushions, the pain in your side a dull reminder of the day's events.

As the night deepens, you find yourself reaching for your phone, your fingers typing out a message before you can second-guess yourself.

Hey. Just wanted to say thank you again for today. I'm okay, just wanted to say thanks. Hope you got home safe.

What you really meant was, “please come back I'm fucking scared being alone.”

You hit send before you can change your mind, the message disappearing into the ether. Minutes tick by with no response, and you chide yourself for expecting otherwise. Joel is probably already asleep, or at least on his way to getting some much-needed rest after the day he's had. But just as you're about to set your phone aside and try to get some sleep yourself, it vibrates in your hand, startling you. A notification lights up the screen—a new message from Joel.

Of course. That's what I'm here for. Got home just fine. How are the ribs? Any better with the meds?

You can't help but smile at the concern in his words, the gruff affection that seems to come so naturally to him. You reply, telling him about the tea and the meal, about how much better you feel with him looking out for you.

His response is quick, as if he's been waiting by his phone for your message. 

Glad to hear it. And remember, there's no rush to get back in the saddle if you're not feeling up to it. Everything will still be here when you're ready. Your health is the priority now. If there's anything I can do for you, just holler. I've got your chores covered. Take care of yourself and don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything or just want to talk about what happened.

You read his words over and over, each one a balm to the lingering ache in your side—and to the unexpected emptiness in your heart. With a contented sigh, you finally set your phone aside and close your eyes, the sound of the ranch at night lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, you're awakened by the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock—it's early, barely past dawn. With some effort, you manage to sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the couch, wincing at the stiffness in your muscles.

The front door opens, and Joel steps inside, his hands full of a large wicker basket. "Brought you some things," he announces, setting the basket down on the coffee table. Inside, you find an assortment of items—fresh fruit, a few paperback novels, a soft, hand-knitted blanket, and a small potted plant. "I figured you could use some company," he says, gesturing to the plant. "And the books are from my daughter's collection. She loves a good western—thought you might enjoy them."

The revelation that Joel has a daughter is something that catches you off guard, a piece of him that he kept carefully tucked away, a piece you want to know more about. 

You're touched by the thoughtfulness of his gifts, each one carefully chosen to bring you comfort during your recovery. "Joel, this is... it's too much," you protest half-heartedly, even as you reach out to run your fingers over the soft wool of the blanket.

"Nonsense, darlin’," he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

The way he calls you darlin’ brings heat to your cheeks, and you quickly look away, busying yourself with arranging the items in the basket. When you finally gather the courage to meet his gaze again, you find him watching you with a soft smile on his face and you assume he's forgotten about the doctor until he speaks up.

“Alright let's go.” Joel's stands up and holds a hand out to you. 

You look up at him and chuckle “It's fine Joel. It barely even hurts.”

The argument is brief but intense, with you stubbornly insisting that a trip to the clinic is unnecessary despite the pain in your arm. Joel, however, is just as adamant, his concern for your well-being overriding any protests you might have.

"I ain't gonna stand by and watch you suffer when there's somethin’ that can be done about it," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

You cross your arms defiantly, wincing as the movement sends a jolt of pain through your injured wrist. "And what's the hard way?" you challenge him, though there's a hint of amusement in your voice.

Without warning, Joel strides toward you, scooping you up into his arms before you can react. You let out a startled yelp as he hoists you over his shoulder with surprising ease, his strong hands holding you securely in place.

"Hey! Put me down!" You pound on his back with your good hand, your cheeks hot with embarrassment and indignation. But beneath the surface, there's an undeniable thrill at being so close to him—at feeling the muscles in his shoulders and back move beneath his shirt as he carries you effortlessly toward the front door.

"As soon as we get to the truck," he replies calmly, unfazed by your struggles. "We're going to see Dr. Simmons whether you like it or not."

You continue to squirm and protest as he carries you across the yard to where his truck is parked. The other ranch hands look on with barely concealed grins but wisely choose to keep their comments to themselves. They know better than to get between Joel Miller and something he's set his mind to.

With a gentleness that belies his gruff exterior, Joel sets you down on the passenger seat of the truck and buckles your seatbelt for you before closing the door and heading around to the driver's side. 

Joel.

He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he navigates the familiar dirt roads that lead away from the ranch. He can see you out of the corner of his eye, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the passing landscape. A vision of stubborn beauty, your jaw set in a way that makes his heart do things it hadn't done in years. He can feel the tension radiating off you—a mix of pain and frustration at being manhandled against your will. He can't blame you for being upset. If someone had picked him up and carried him off like a sack of feed, he'd be mad too. But when he saw you lying there in the dirt, hurt and vulnerable, something inside him shifted. It awakened a protective instinct that he thought had died along with Sarah.

Damn it, Joel, he chides himself. She's young enough to be your daughter. But the thought feels hollow, a weak defense against the pull he feels toward you. You’re strong, fiercely independent, and yet, there’s a vulnerability to you that calls to something deep within him, the need to care for someone - for you. He glances over at you again, taking in the delicate curve of your jaw, and the way your hair falls in waves around your shoulders, taking in the way the morning light plays across your features. You’re a sight to behold, all fire and spirit wrapped up in a package that is far too tempting for his peace of mind. Every time he looks at you, all logic seems to fly out the window. There's an undeniable connection between you, a spark that ignites whenever you're near each other. It's terrifying and exhilarating, you make him feel young again. 

He risks another glance in your direction, and his heart skips a beat when he finds you watching him with those big doe eyes of yours. Joel swallows hard, forcing himself to look away before his thoughts can wander any further down that dangerous path. He needs to focus on getting through this day without letting his guard down completely.

The clinic is just up ahead now, its whitewashed walls gleaming in the early morning sun. He pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine, turning to face you with a stern expression that belies the turmoil he feels inside.

"Ready?" he asks, though it's clear from his tone that it's more of a statement than a question. He's not going to let you talk your way out of this one—not when your health is at stake.

You nod reluctantly, your gaze fixed on the clinic entrance. You're nervous; he can see it in the way your fingers worry at the hem of your shirt, in the slight tremble of your chin. He wants to reach out and wrap you in his arms, to offer some semblance of comfort, but he holds back. It wouldn't be appropriate—not here, not now. Instead, he climbs out of the truck and comes around to open your door for you, offering a hand to help you down onto solid ground.

The interior of the clinic is cool and sterile-smelling—a stark contrast to the fresh air and open spaces of the ranch. Joel checks you in at the reception desk while you sink into one of the waiting room chairs, wincing as even that small movement sends a twinge of pain through your side and arm.  Joel takes a seat beside you in the waiting room, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. He can feel the tension emanating from you, a coiled spring ready to leap to action at the slightest provocation. He knows that look—it's the same one he's seen on injured animals over the years, a mix of fear and defiance. It tugs at something deep within him, a primal urge to protect those he cares about most.

He wants to say something to ease your discomfort, but words seem inadequate in the face of your pain. Instead, he reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering just above your knee before he gives in to the impulse and rests it there gently—a silent promise that he's not going anywhere.

You startle at his touch, your gaze flicking to his face in surprise. But as you meet his eyes, you see nothing but sincerity and concern reflected back at you. Slowly, deliberately, you place your own hand over his.

The waiting room is filled with the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of magazines being flipped through by other patients. Joel's thumb traces idle patterns on your leg as you sit there together in silence.

"Joel," you say finally, breaking the silence that has settled between you. Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the ambient noise like a knife. "I want to thank you - for everything."

He shakes his head dismissively, though there's a warmth in his eyes that wasn't there before. "No need for thanks," he replies gruffly. "I did what anyone else woulda done."

"No," you insist firmly, turning in your seat so that you're facing him fully now—ignoring the twinge of pain it elicits from your injuries. "Joel," you say again, your voice steady despite the pain you're clearly in. "I mean it. You've been... you've done so much for me. More than I could have asked for."

He opens his mouth to respond, to downplay his role in your care, but the words die on his lips as the nurse appears in the doorway, clipboard in hand. She calls out your name, scanning the room until her eyes land on the two of you.

Reluctantly, Joel withdraws his hand from your knee, the connection between you severed as you rise to follow the nurse. He stands as well, intending to accompany you, but the nurse shakes her head. "Just the patient for now, please," she says with a polite but firm smile.

You shoot him a reassuring look over your shoulder as you follow the nurse down the hallway, leaving Joel alone with his thoughts. He sinks back into his chair, his hands clasped tightly between his knees again as he waits for you to return.

The minutes tick by slowly, each second stretching into an eternity. Joel's mind races with worry and concern. He knows the ranch like the back of his hand, can handle any crisis that comes his way—but this is different. This is about you, and the thought of you in pain, of you being afraid, is more than he can bear.

He can't shake the image of you lying in the dust after being thrown from Daisy, the fear in your eyes when you realized you couldn't get up on your own. It had been years since he'd felt that kind of raw terror, the kind that gripped your heart and squeezed until you couldn't breathe. But in that moment, with you hurt and helpless, it all came flooding back. Joel had always prided himself on his strength, both physical and emotional. He'd had to be strong after Sarah passed, but with you, he felt something shift inside him—a crack in the armor he'd spent years building up around his heart. He cared about you, more than he should. It was a truth he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried. You were young, vibrant, full of potential and promise. And he, well, he was just an old cowboy with more yesterdays than tomorrows. But when he looked at you, when he saw the fire in your eyes, he felt alive in a way he hadn't in years.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears your name called again. He looks up to see the nurse beckoning him forward with a gentle smile.

"You can come back now," she says, her voice soft and reassuring. "She's asking for you."

Joel's heart skips a beat at her words. He rises quickly, his boots thudding against the linoleum floor as he follows the nurse through the maze of hallways to the examination room where you're waiting. His mind races with possibilities—none of them good. 

Why would they need me if everything was fine? Had something happened while you were back there? Was the injury worse than they initially thought?

The door to the examination room creaks open, and Joel steps inside, his eyes immediately going to you. You're sitting on the edge of the examination table, your face pale but composed. The relief that washes over him at seeing you unharmed is palpable; it leaves him momentarily lightheaded as he crosses the room to your side.

"What's goin on?" he asks urgently, his gaze flicking between you and the doctor who is standing nearby with a clipboard in hand. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Simmons gives him a reassuring nod before turning his attention back to you. "I was just explaining to your friend here that it looks like she's got some bruised ribs and a fracture in her wrist," he says matter-of-factly as he jots something down on his clipboard. "We'll need to keep an eye on those ribs—make sure there's no internal bleeding or complications—but I think she'll be just fine with some rest and proper care.We gave her some pain medication before the x-ray. It may make her tired so she will need to be watched. No driving, etc. And she will need to come back in three weeks from now to get an updated x-ray of her wrist."

Joel lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave crashing against jagged rocks. He reaches out instinctively, taking your good hand in his own as he listens intently while Dr. Simmons goes over your care instructions.

Once the doctor finishes his instructions and hands over the prescription, Joel helps you down from the examination table, his hand at the small of your back providing a steady, reassuring presence. "Let's get your meds and then getcha home," he says softly, guiding you out of the clinic and back to his truck.

The drive to the pharmacy is quiet, the air between you thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Joel keeps stealing glances at you, noting the way you're cradling your injured wrist against your chest, the way your breath hitches ever so slightly when the truck hits a bump in the road. He wants to say something, to offer some words of comfort, but he's never been good with this sort of thing. He's a man of action, not words.

At the pharmacy, Joel takes charge, handling the paperwork and payment while you sit quietly on a nearby bench. He can see the exhaustion etched into your features, the way your eyelids are starting to droop. He knows you're running on fumes, and the pain medication will likely knock you out soon.

He heads back to the ranch, the truck's engine humming softly beneath the weight of the silence that stretches between you. You're fading fast, the medication they gave you at the doctor taking its toll. He can see you struggling to keep your eyes open, your body swaying slightly with each turn of the vehicle.

Once he reaches the ranch house, he parks as close to the front door as possible and hurries around to your side of the truck. You're already half-asleep by the time he opens your door, your eyelids fluttering as you fight to stay awake. "Easy now," Joel murmurs, unbuckling your seatbelt and scooping you into his arms with a tenderness that surprises even himself. You let out a soft sigh as he carries you into the house, your head lolling against his chest. The trust you place in him is both humbling and terrifying and the sweet little noises coming from your mouth don't make any of this easier. 

He settles you onto the couch, propping pillows behind your back to keep you comfortable. You smile sleepily up at you, a smile that sends a jolt straight to his heart and many other places. "Stay with me?" You ask quietly. 

How could he possibly say no?

Joel nods, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “‘course darlin, just gonna make you somethin to eat real quick.” Joel heads into the kitchen to prepare something for you to eat. An Eggo waffle seems like a safe bet—simple and comforting in its familiarity. He pops one into the toaster and waits impatiently for it to brown, his thoughts consumed by the woman lying on the couch.

Joel returns to the living room, the scent of warm waffles wafting through the air. He sets the plate down on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and the bottle of pain medication the pharmacist had given him. "Here you go, darlin'," he says softly, offering you a small smile. "Eat up, and then we'll get you settled in with a movie or somethin."

You nod, managing a weak smile in return as you reach for the waffle with your good hand. The simple act of eating seems to revive you somewhat, though Joel can tell you're still in a considerable amount of pain. He watches as you take a tentative bite, followed by a sip of water to wash it down.

"Thank you," you murmur between bites, your eyes meeting his in a silent exchange of gratitude and concern.

Joel nods, his throat tightening unexpectedly at the sincerity in your voice. "Anything for you," he replies gruffly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. He quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. "What do ya feel like watchin’? There's some old western tapes layin around or we could find somethin else.”

“Hmmm” You think about it for a moment before responding with a slight shrug of your shoulders—a movement that causes you to wince slightly, “I'm not picky. Whatever you want cowboy.” 

If only I could tell ya what I want darlin’

Taglist: @mermaidgirl30 @maried01

[cxrsed-angel]

Knuckle Deep in the Backseat (Joel Miller x Fem! reader smut)

rating: 18+

word count: 3k

summary: Joel convinced you to learn how to drive and offers to teach you, but ends up in the back seat with you.

warning: Smut, age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in 20s). Fingering, dirty talk, Daddy kink, pet names, car sex, established relationship.

A/N: Title is inspired but causal by Chappell Roan but the fic has nothing to do with the song. This actually was in my draft since last year and was "finished" but it needed work lol.

The sun is barely up bit its still too bright, and the birds are chirping too loudly. You can feel the crisp fall air as you stand outside. You hated being up this early. You don’t even remember how Joel got you to wake up this early. Joel knew you weren't a morning person, but he had convinced you with shitty coffee to practice driving after finding a couple of gas cans. Said it might come in handy, and he doesn’t want you to be unprepared. The thought was sweet, but waking you up at 7:00 a.m. wasn’t. You figured it would be later in the day like 12pm not the ass crack of dawn. You followed him to the truck, your eyebrows frowning due to how early it was. 

“Good morning, baby. ‘You ready to drive? I woke you up ages ago. What took you so long?” 

Joel greets you with a big smile. He's leaning against the old truck, way more energetic than you are. Over the years, he’s gotten used to waking up early, which you didn’t understand. You hated how chipper he was in the morning; you couldn’t relate. You’d be lucky if you rolled out of bed before noon. 

You walk up to him, flipping him off before taking the coffee from his hand. He laughs and watches as you take a sip of coffee. You walk to the driver's side of the car, and he follows behind you. You watch as he opens the door and starts hot-wiring the car to start it. 

You see him standing next to an old four-door black truck, holding the coffee he had promised, smiling. “You know I used to have a truck like this; it was black—” You nod, staring at him, not really listening to him go on about his old pre end of the world truck he used to own. You're still trying to wake up, zoning out a bit. You stare at him briefly, and he realizes that you haven't been listening. 

He stops rambling about the mileage he had on his old truck and the deal he got on it. “You ever drove one of these before?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. You give him a deadpanned stare, narrowing your eyes, 

“And when would I have driven one of these, Joel? Considering most cars stopped working about 20 years ago.” You knew you were being cranky, but you didn’t appreciate being up before noon if your life wasn’t depending on it.

He looks up from hot wiring, mumbling under his breath, “fucking smart ass” You roll you’re eyes and watch as he continues messing with wires until you hear the car turns on; you stare at him as he walks around.

 His ass looks particularly good in his jeans as he walks around the truck to get into the passenger seat. Normally, you would try to make your staring more subtly, but it was hard since you’re barely awake; he just looked so good. The greying hair, his pretty brown eyes, the wrinkles around his forehead from frowning for the last 20 years, the cuts around his face, his muscles peeking through his shirt sleeves. You’re broken out of your trance when you hear his deep Texas voice that had lured you out here in the first place. 

“Are you gonna stand there and check me out all day, or are you gonna get your ass in the car.” 

You stop daydreaming, his words snapping you out of your semi-dirty thoughts. You walk to the car and get into the driver’s seat. You’re sitting in the driver's seat as he asks, “Ok, so tell me what you remember.” 

“Well, not much, considering the last time I was in a car that worked, I was a toddler,” You answer again sarcastically, rolling your eyes, still cranky and grumpy. 

Joel turns his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes at your snark. He knows it usually takes a good 30 minutes or so for you to be yourself when he woke you up early, but today, you seemed extra grumpy. 

The first time Joel woke you up early in the morning, you gave him short responses or cursed him out every other sentence all morning. It was earlier on when he met you. Joel thought you were pissed at him or that he did something, so he responded back with short responses and attitude, which led to a lot of tension the rest of the day. But after a couple of weeks of early morning runs, he saw that that was just how you are, and he eventually got used to it. He also realized that if he gave you coffee and was patient, you’d eventually wake up faster. Still, it didn't work every time, and it seemed like this was one of those mornings where you were extra cranky and a pain in the ass. 

You take another sip of his coffee and sigh, realizing you were being too bitchy; you hand the coffee back to him. “I’m sorry. That was a bit much. I’ll tone it down. Promise.” 

He looks at you as he puts the coffee in the cup holder, unsure if he believes you. He replies dry and sarcastically. “I'm sure you will.” He starts talking about something, but honestly, you weren’t listening, too lost in those brown eyes of his to focus on what he was saying again.

 You see him motion to the thing with numbers above the steering. You know it's probably important, but you're far more interested in how good his hands look as he gestures to the different parts of the car. Fuck why did he have to be so hot? 

“So, um, 20 years ago, you would’ve had to take a test and worry about a lot of different rules of the road and deal with people riding your ass, tailgating, and a lot of other shit, but um, now I guess the important thing is just getting somewhere as fast as possible isn't it? You’d probably not gonna drive often, but it's good to know.”

You nod, paying attention to his words now instead of all the dirty things you want him to do to you, trying to focus on getting ready to drive. 

“Alright, you feel those two pedals down there. The one on the left is the brake, and the one on the right is the gas; you only want to use one foot while driving; you can really mess up the car if you press both at the same time. See these here are your shifts to D for drive, P for park, R for reverse.” He pauses, thinking about anything he might’ve missed, but he remembers you weren’t gonna be driving like he used to, “Thats all you really need to know.” 

You watch as he explains everything to you. He tells you to put it into drive, and the car starts moving forward slightly. You shakily put your hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, and press down the gas pedal, nervously chewing on your lip. He guides you through an old road that wasn’t too overgrown or hard to navigate. After a few minutes, you feel like you're starting to get the hang of it. You feel Joel place his hand on your thigh, resting it there. You look over at him slightly, wondering if you have messed up or done something wrong. Still, he says nothing about letting you drive, resting his hand on your thigh, and occasionally squeezing it. 

“Am I doing okay?” you ask quietly as his hand continues to rest on your thigh, slowly rubbing further up your thighs.  You feel his hand creep up higher and the air in the truck getting hotter as his hand makes you feel warm. You lose focus on what you are doing and feel the car drifting off the road as his hand reaches further up your shorts. You feel the arousal building in your core. 

“Doin' great baby, just try to keep the wheel straight; you're drifting sideways a little.” He leans over you, grabbing the wheel to make it straight before letting you take over again, “Atta girl, see, you're doing perfectly.” 

His hand lightly squeezes your thigh reassuringly. You swallow hard, trying not to let his actions and deep voice affect you, trying to focus your attention back on the road. But that went out the window once you felt his hand rub the place you needed him most through your pants. 

“Joel,” you whisper his name. It comes out more of a moan than you intended; he leans over the gear shift, kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. You close your eyes, feeling your body getting hotter and your heart beating faster. You had forgotten you were supposed to control a vehicle until he moved his lips off your neck. 

“Focus on the road, baby; after all the shit I’ve been through, I don't wanna die because you drove us into a damn tree.” 

You open your eyes, listening to him, and focus back on driving. At least you try to, but you fail once his fingers start unbuttoning your jeans. His hands go down your pants and slowly caress against your pussy over your panties. You feel your face heat up, getting wetter, more turned on by his fingers teasing you. 

You don’t know how you’d manage to drive this much without crashing the truck, but you lose what little self-control you have left when Joel moves your panties to the side. Your foot moves off the gas pedal, the car stops, and you can't take it anymore. You close your eyes, feeling yourself get wetter. 

“Joel! I can't–ah– I need you please, please, please, I need you,” you beg and whine to him, wanting him to do more, but all you hear is his deep voice laugh at you as he removes his hand from your pants. 

“All of a sudden, you have manners, and bein’ polite.” he mocks you as he moves back into his seat, watching you get a bit mad.. “What happened to all that attitude and snark you gave me 10 minutes ago.” He continues as you look at him, your face flush and hot. No way you continue with this driving lesson after feeling his fingers against your core. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry I won't be a pain in the ass anymore.” You try to apologize, hoping he’ll accept it and put his hand back. You look at him with soft eyes, practically beginning him to fuck you. 

He looks at you for a few minutes before shaking his head and giving you a smirk, not being easily won over by your apologies or the 180 in your attitude.

“What?. You think a few sorrys gonna have me forget how much attitude you gave me for no reason?” You frown as he continues, “No, sweetheart, you’ve been an extra wiseass this morning, and I don't think you deserve it.” 

You shake your head to apologize again, hoping to convince. “Joel… Please, I said I was sorry. You know I’m not a morning person, and I never mean it.” He doesn't say anything as he looks at you. You can tell he’s debating whether to drive back to Jackson or go to the back of the truck. “Alright, fine baby, get in the back. But I ain't letting you get that easy,” he grunts in a deep Texas voice. You smile, glad he had given in. 

You unbuckle your seat belt and crawl into the truck's back seat. You're about to leave the car, but Joel places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. 

 “You gotta put it into park, darling, or we’ll go rolling into a tree.” He gently reminds you as he opens the passenger door. 

You glance at the gear shift, remembering you were supposed to be a driving lesson that had taken a turn.

 “Oh, right.” You sit back in the driver's seat, putting the gearshift into P. You couldn't turn the car off since it was hot-wired, so you watch as Joel reaches over and pulls another small lever thing up, not exactly sure what it is for. 

“The emergency brake. Just to be safe.” 

 After parking the car and making sure the car wasn't going to roll backward, You hop over the console and crawl into the back seat, waiting for him to join you. You watch as Joel gets out of the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. Your eyebrow frowns slightly, confused as to why he was not hoping into the backseat with you. “Aren't you- where are you going?”  Your frown confused why he wasn't hopping over the seat like you. He smiles at you before closing the passenger door; he opens the back seat door, closing it behind him, and climbs in, sitting in the middle seat, getting into the backseat,

 “I ain't as young, and with my bad back and knees. There's no way I’m hopping over the console and crawling into the goddamn back seat like that. My knees are already bad enough.” 

You smile as he sits next to you, forgetting about your age difference, “Guess thats the con of dating an old man, huh.” You joke as he grabs your hips, gently pushes you down on the back seat, and unbuttons your jeans, hovering over you as you lay on your back. 

“Yea, but who's getting in the back seat with said old man and begging this old man to fuck you.” 

You laugh for a bit at his very valid reply. You feel him pull your jeans down and your underwear all at once. You sit with him as he tosses your clothes to the backseat floor. He moves a bit to sit on the seats, pulling you next to him, and his rough hands grab your hips. You feel him rub up your thigh with one and place his index and middle finger on the other hand against your lips. You open your mouth, sucking on them, gazing up at Joel. 

Joel lets out a groan under his breath as he looks at you, “Fuck sweetheart, look so pretty sucking on my fingers.” His praise gets you wetter as he takes his finger out of your mouth and slowly pushes them inside you. He starts off slow but gradually increases his speed as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot deep in you. You shudder under his touch, grinding against his fingers. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaking my fingers.” he drawls out as he continues fucking you with his fingers. You whimper at his words, hearing the sounds of your wetness as his finger fuck deeper into you. You grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, clenching around his fingers as you get closer to your release. Your moans grow louder as you feel his fingers rub against your clit.

“Yes! Yes! Daddy, I’m so close!” You feel the pressure building, your breath gets shakier, and your moans get louder, filling the old truck, until you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling you’re growing moans. He leans over, hovering over you more, his fingers stopping inside you.

“You need to shut the hell up before you attract a whole hoard of clickers.” His stern tone still turns you on more, his eyes staring into yours intensely. Making sure you understand him, you give him a nod with glossy eyes staring back at him. 

He slowly started moving his finger again, curling up as he reached the spot each time he slid his finger inside you. Your eyes roll back as you move your hips against his fingers. You felt his hand come out of your mouth, and you bit your lip, trying to surprise your moans. You feel you’re self getting closer, your brain getting fuzzy as his fingers move faster.  

“Is this what I have to do every morning, gotta make you cum on my fingers, then you’ll be nice?” He taunts you as you continue moaning. Your lips desperately clash with Joel’s messily making out with him. Joel’s other hand spreads your thighs further as he continues to finger fucking you. 

You nod absentmindedly, leaning your head against his neck as he continues fucking you with his fingers; his thumb rubs your clit and brings you over the edge. Joel knew, too. He knew your body like the back of your hand, even outside of sex. He always knew when you were scared when you were pissed. 

“You’re close, huh I can tell. You wanna cum, sweetheart? You’re gonna cum on daddy’s finger?” He asks softly as he sits beside you, fingers moving deeper inside your dripping cunt. 

You immediately nod, “Yes, daddy, please, please. I’m so close.” Your release slows as his fingers pull out of you. You feel your orgasm fading and your eyes open, looking at him disappointed, watching as he puts his two fingers in his mouth, tasting your wetness. He gives you a slight smirk as she shakes his head. 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure you deserve it, after how you were this morning, all those smart-ass remarks after you asked me to teach you to drive.” He slowly traces his finger over your clit, teasing you as you whine against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice!” you apologize frantically, hoping he’ll move his fingers again. Joel smiles before he slips his finger inside your aching pussy accepting your apology, and moves his finger again, the arousal building again. Your moan grows louder as his fingers bring you to your release. He brings his lips to your mouth, sloppily kissing you to quiet your moans. You moan against his lips. 

“As pretty as those moans are, you really gotta keep it down, sweetheart. Once we get back to Jackson, you can be as loud as you want. Okay?” 

You nod, knowing he’s right. You really don't wanna lure a group of infected or clickers with your moans. In this situation, you’d rather not die mid-sex from clickers. you close your eyes, feeling his fingers move faster. He brings his other hand onto your clit, rubbing it slowly.

“I know, I know but-fuck baby, I’m close, I'm so close.” The sounds of your moans and your wetness from your entrance fill the rundown truck as you get closer to your release. 

“Come on baby, atta girl, soak my finger, baby.” He coaxes, his voice guiding you through your orgasm. eye closing as you dissolve into pleasure. you gasp before moaning his name repeatedly. “Joel Joel Joel fuck daddy!” His hand comes over your mouth again to keep your moans quiet. You feel your stomach twist, your wet pussy clenches as you feel your climax. you move, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 

You feel him remove his fingers from you. you breathe heavily, coming down from your high. Just you open your eyes; Joel puts his dripping fingers in his mouth. You watch desperately as he moans at your taste. He smiles, laughing slightly at how you look at him still recovering but, obviously still wanting him. He leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead, and looks at you.  

“You better?” you nod silently. “You awake?” you nod again, feeling a bit weaker between your legs than before you had entered the truck. Joel laughs, gently giving you a soft kiss on your lips. “Good, now get back in the driver’s seat and take us home so I can fuck you. ” 

You nod, getting up and hopping back into the front seat. You look back at Joel, watching him get into the passenger seat. He starts the car again, and you start speeding back to Jackson. 

“You know, maybe you should give me an orgasm in the morning every day to wake me up.” you smile, making a joke but also being serious. 

Joel shakes his head at your words, laughing a bit. His hand comes back to your thigh, rubbing it. “Just focus on driving the damn truck first.” 

[marvelwitchergilmore]

First Kick

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> Both you and Aaron have been in a secret relationship for three years, except when you go into labour, the rest of the team can't help but speculate.

Disclaimer: Just pure fluff. Small descriptions of labour. BAU being a family. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Not Proof Read.

You would have thought working with a bunch of FBI profilers, they would have figured out the truth by now. 

But they hadn’t. 

Instead, both yourself and Aaron had lived in wedded bliss for the last three years and were now expecting your first child. 

Of course, that couldn’t be hidden from the team. The constant morning sickness. The aversions to certain smells. The swollen ankles, the overwhelming emotions and the growing belly. 

Which, as you were sitting at the dim light of your desk filling in the last of the paperwork for your latest case, began to move. 

The others had stepped out for a while, grabbing some food. They had invited you except the thought of walking a block and a half already made you want to fall asleep. So, kissing the top of your head, Morgan took your order and promised to bring you back extra guac. 

The hum from the headphones you placed around your belly filled the small silence, a tune of Motzart rather than a constant drum of a nearby printer. 

However, from under the headphones, you felt a movement. 

It wasn’t big. Barely noticeable. But it was there. 

Or was it? 

Maybe it was nothing. 

Except, twenty seconds later, you knew for certain. 

Pulling the headphones from you, you stood up immediately and rushed towards Hotch’s office. 

And you continued with your normal routine. Knocking on his door, calling his name and stepping inside. 

“Is everything okay?”

Trying not to raise any alarm, you closed his office door behind you before shutting the blinds. 

“Is everything okay?”

Aaron scanned your face. “Honey?”

Within seconds he was by your side. “What is it?”

But then you smiled. And he became confused. 

“What-”

“Feel.”

Taking his hand, you guided it to cover part of your growing belly. “What am I-”

Kick.

You watched every emotion possible pass over Aaron’s face as he took in the feeling of your child kicking his palm. 

“Is that-”

Kick.

Then he laughed. 

Aaron Hotchner laughed. 

It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of your husband when at work. So it was a nice surprise when you did. 

Within seconds, he had stepped a little closer and had carefully removed his hand from the top of your stomach and slipped it under the hem of your shirt, allowing his warm palm to rest against your skin. 

Then your baby kicked harder. 

You both laughed that time. 

“Hey, ow.” You said, looking at your stomach. 

Aaron chuckled lightly before resting his forehead against yours as his other hand rested against your face, brushing the fallen hair from your face and cupping your cheek. 

“She’s moving.” 

You smiled. “You’re still convinced it’s a girl?”

“Of course I am. I’m a profiler. I should know.” 

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “I’m a profiler, too, you know.”

“I know.”

“And it’s mother.”

“And you disagree?” He asked, still with a light smile gracing his lips. 

You hummed. “I’m uncertain.”

“Well, how about I give you my profile and see how you feel?”

You laughed. “It really is second nature to you.”

Aaron hummed before moving his hand, still under your shirt, to the top of your belly. 

“You’re carrying high, for one.” His thumb traced back and forth on your stomach. “You’ve suffered with morning sickness before twelve weeks, your main craving so far has been fruit. You sleep on your right side.”

“I always sleep on my right side.”

Aaron smiled. “And your skin,” He stroked his thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s soft.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Except, they are just old wives tales.”

“I’d like to think there is still some justice in them. Are you sure you want to wait until they’re born?”

“Yes.”

“And you couldn’t be persuaded?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Aaron smirked a little before leaning in and kissing you. 

Pulling his hand from your stomach, he brought it up to the other side of your face and it wasn’t long before he felt your body melt into his. 

“The others are going to be back soon.”

Aaron groaned a little but not before kissing you a last few times before pulling away. 

“You’d think they would have figured it out by now.” 

You nodded. “But it is kinda fun. And I can’t wait until they see our baby. I have a feeling they’ll look like you.”

“I should hope so.”

You laughed. “You know what I mean. And, if it is a girl, don’t they usually look like they’re dad?”

“Are you saying you agree with my profile?”

You hummed. “Maybe. Just a little. You are the Unit Chief of the BAU, so I suppose you have some credibility.”

“Even if they’re just old wives tales?” He asked, raising his eyebrow a little. 

You nodded, with a slight smile. “Even if they’re just old wives tales.”

You finally left his office just before the team got back, but not before stealing a few more kisses. 

Over the following months, the team grew more protective of you. With your pregnancy coming to an end, and still not knowing who the father was, they began to step up. 

It was sweet to watch. 

Penelope had planned your baby shower with JJ’s help. Reid had read up on everything a doctor and midwife knew about giving birth, just in case you went into early labour. Emily had helped you pack your spare hospital bag for the office in case you were rushed into labour whilst at the office or away on a case, being too far from home to drive to get your hospital bag. 

And when Hotch couldn’t be by your side, he made sure either Rossi and Morgan were there to help you. 

“You okay there, Momma?”

You looked to Morgan who had appeared from around the corner. You were leaning against the counter, your hand holding onto the bottom of your belly. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You breathed out. “Just a little- ow. Okay. Hey-”

“Whoa, hey, okay, take it easy.”

Morgan placed his coffee mug down, coming right back to your side and holding your hand. “What do you need?”

Your grip tightened around his hand. “Ow. Hospital.”

“Okay, okay. Where’s your hospital bag?”

“By my desk. Emily-” You grunted in pain. “Emily knows.”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. Emily!”

Turning around, it took Emily less than ten seconds to realise what was going on. 

“Okay, Garcia. Hey! Penelope, call Hotch. Let him know what’s going on.”

“Why, what’s-O…oh my god. Okay, Okay. Calling him now.”

By the time Morgan got you to the parking lot, Hotch was pulling in. 

“Get in, I can drive her straight there.”

“Have you got everything you need?”

You nodded. 

“Call us if you need anything?” Emily asked, shutting your door. 

You could only hum, holding onto Emily’s hand. 

She leaned in for a moment, kissing your cheek. 

“See you when you get back, Momma.”

Hotch pulled away a few moments later, rushing you directly to the hospital. 

And for the next twenty hours, Hotch stayed by your side. And the rest of the team started to think. 

“I mean, think about it. When she got braxton hicks. Who was the first one at her side?”

“Hotch.” Penelope answered. 

“Yeah, and the way he looked. I don’t know about you but I have never seen Hotch that nervous.”

“That is true.” Rossi agreed. 

“But they can’t be…together, can they?” JJ asked. “You all had it sussed about me and Will. They couldn’t go this long and not have us at least find out.”

“Maybe they didn’t want us to.”

“Or maybe they’re not together at all.”

“When have you ever known either of them to be that close with each other as they are with us? Rossi, have you ever seen the inside of Hotch’s house?”

“Not for a while, no. Why, have you ever seen hers?”

Emily shook her head. 

“Penelope, can you find out anything?” Morgan asked, turning to his best girl. 

“I can but it would completely wreck my moral standing.”

“You’ve never run a background check on us?” JJ asked. 

“No! That would be an invasion of your privacy. And theirs! If they are a..them, I suppose. Or maybe not. Maybe she is just a single mother and Hotch has decided to help her. He was the first to find out.”

“See, another thing!” Emily pointed out. 

“But Hotch is the first to know everything about us. He’s the main person we have to tell when it comes to personal things that could affect our work.” Morgan explained. 

“But why not come to one of us?” Rossi asked. “JJ, what do you think? Out of us, who would you have come to?”

JJ thought for a moment. “Out of you boys? Probably…Hotch.”

“Really?” Rossi asked. 

“Why not me?” Morgan asked. 

“Or me?” Reid finished. 

JJ smiled. “You know I love you all equally, but out of Three Divorces, Pretty Boy and Chocolate Thunder, I’d want to tell someone I know to be calm. That could remain level headed.”

“And we’re not level headed?” Morgan asked, causing JJ to look up above her shoulder. 

“What did you do when I told you I was pregnant?”

Morgan paused for a second. “You may have a point.”

“Either way, we can’t know for certain that they’re having a baby together.” Reid pointed out. 

“Well, she’s married. Or engaged, at least.”

They all turned to Emily. 

“How do you know that?”

“Her wedding finger. Last time she came back from AL she had a tan line. It was faint, but it was there.”

“Maybe he ran off? They got pregnant but he didn’t want to be in the picture?”

Penelope scoffed. “What a jerk.”

“I don’t think they’d appreciate us speculating like this.”

“JJ’s right. Maybe they’re just friends and Hotch is helping her out. Garcia, have you heard from them yet?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

Meanwhile, at the hospital, the midwife was instructing Aaron to get behind you, holding you up and holding your hands and you continued to push. 

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Come on, honey. I know you can.”

“Can’t you do it for me?”

Aaron chuckled. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Just a couple more pushes, Mrs Hotchner.”

Another wave of contractions hit and you continued to push for another fifteen minutes before finally everyone in the room heard the cries of your baby. 

“You did it, honey. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

“Is she okay? What-Where is she?”

Aaron smiled, tears in his eyes, pushing the hair out of your own. “She’s-She’s okay. Look, the midwife is just wrapping them up.”

A few moments later, the midwife handed you your baby. 

Two days later they discharged you from the hospital and the first stop made was at the office considering the last of your things had been left there when you went into labour. 

And it also meant the team could finally greet your baby. 

“Ooh, ooh, they’re here. They’re here.”

Penelope was the first to spot you and Hotch standing in his office and it wasn’t long before they were all standing outside. 

However, as the congratulations and praise was made, Penelope’s voice dropped an octave after she got a clear look of the baby. 

“Oh my god.”

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Ohh, ohh, ohh my goodness.”

But you could only smile. 

“You!” Penelope pointed before turning to look at Hotch. “And you! Oh my god! You are!”

You looked behind you, finding your husband standing closer to you than when the team had first walked inside. 

“Are what? Baby girl, what’s-”

And then it clicked. 

With all of them. 

And for a moment they were all stunned into complete silence. 

“Aaron…why didn’t you…”

“Tell you?” Hotch asked, finishing Rossi’s question.

“Truthfully, we kinda maybe wanted to see how long it would take you all to figure out.” You explained. 

“But…how?!” JJ asked. 

You just shrugged. 

“Hints were there if you looked for them.” Aaron said. 

“Hints were- Oh, so, now he tells us. How long?”

“Four years.” You both answered. 

“Four years?!” They all half shouted, quickly remembering there was an infant present. 

“Wait.” Penelope said, holding up her hands. “Oh my god, it’s all coming together. This must be how Sherlock Holmes feels when he cracks a case.”

Both yourself and Aaron smiled before looking down at the sleeping baby in your arms. 

“The weekends away, the lunch orders, the arrive at work together. Oh my god! The touching.” Penelope hit Emily and Derek’s arm. 

“Ow!” They both called. 

“How could you two not have noticed this?!”

“You didn’t notice either!” Emily replied, rubbing her arm. 

“Baby girl, they kept this from us for four years. Why aren’t you hitting them?”

“Because,” Penelope explained. “She had just had a beautiful baby girl. And Hotch is my boss.”

“Can you ever find a way to forgive us?”

They all looked at each other before seemingly coming to the same conclusion. “Fine. But, only if you tell us how it happened and when. And, if you have a wedding re-do so that we all get to attend.”

Both you and Aaron looked at each other. 

“That could work.”

“Great! Now, let me see this beautiful baby girl.” Penelope said, her voice once again chipper, as she came to your side. 

“My goodness, she’s beautiful. Hotch, she looks just like you.”

Aaron smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. “No, that’s all her mom.”

“Oh-ho,” Rossi laughed a little. “She is going to be running rings around us all soon enough.”

Four weeks later, each member of the team turned up together on different days, listening to the story of your relationship. First were the girls and Reid before JJ showed up with Morgan and Rossi. JJ was there to drop some items off that both yourself and Hotch would find useful with the nursery but she didn’t mind hearing the story a second time. 

Eight weeks after you had given birth, your doorbell rang and just as Aaron opened up the front door, Penelope and Rossi walked inside carrying boxes of items before directing the rest of the team through your home into the garden. 

“Dave, what’s going on?”

“You, my dear friend, are getting married.”

“We’re already married.” You said with a small laugh, walking to stand beside your husband. 

Dave nodded. “That you are, but today, you are both getting remarried. You did promise us.”

“We did promise them.” Aaron said, turning to look at you. 

“We did, didn’t we?”

Dave smiled. “So, Uncle Reid is going to be looking after this little one.”

You carefully handed your baby girl to Spencer as Dave continued to explain. 

“Whilst the girls help you get ready and I enlist your help,” Rossi turned to look at Hotch. “To help finish the set up.”

Penelope appeared from down the hallway. “Come on, Emily is finishing setting everything up.”

“I guess I’ll see you at the wedding?”

“I’ll be the one in white.”

Aaron smiled before kissing you quickly as barely a second later Penelope was dragging you upstairs. 

That night was filled with joy, laughter and happiness. Yourself and Aaron shared another set of marriage vows in front of the team. You shared a second first dance, a second first kiss and a first family dance. 

It was a quiet moment on the corner of the dance floor. You were swaying with your baby, softly, in your arms when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a familiar pair of lips kiss your shoulder. 

Turning around you, Aaron held both of you close. Your forehead against his and your eyes closed, his fingers traced patterns against your arms back and forth before down your side and to your hips where he pulled you in a little closer. 

Neither of you knew it until a week later, but Morgan had, with Emily’s help, caught everything on camera. And with help from Penelope, a second wedding video had been made. 

Capturing the full length of your first family dance together.

[kitkatscabinet]

SNUGGLE BUG

Summary: The boys try to get out of bed, their partner has other plans.

Pairing(s): Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, x reader

A/N: unedited

DICK GRAYSON

Dick's always been a physically affectionate person, far more so than the rest of his family. It's why he'd been so ecstatic when he'd found you, a partner that was just as, if not more affectionate than him.

On more than one occasion his siblings had been given front-row seats to the snuggle show when they broke into his apartment, served them right really.

What Dick hadn't accounted for, was just how difficult it was to peel himself from your arms in the morning. Torture would hurt less he's sure.

"Ten more minutes," you whined childishly, burrowing your face into Dick's bare shoulder, tightening your arms around his torso.

"We've already said that three times." Your partner laughed, wriggling out of your hold but with far less strength than you knew he was capable of.

Both of you were fully aware just how quickly he could extracate himself from your arms should the neccessity rise. Technically speaking he did have to go to work, but surely it couldn't hurt to be a little late?

Though a quick glance at the hello kitty alarm clock on the bedside table confirmed he was already late.

"Dickie, can't you just call in? I wanna cuddle."

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

It wasn't like he really needed the money anyway.

His boss's ire is worth it to feel the way you smile into the skin of his neck, your warm breaths and little laughs as you lay tangled together.

So worth it.

JASON TODD

"You planning on letting me go anytime soon?" Jason grunted, though you know him well enough to hear the smile he's attempting to hide.

"Never," you mumble into the skin between his broad shoulder blades, the mattress slouching beneath the combined weight of you and your boyfriend.

Jason, undeterred by your attempts to drag him down, stands with a grunt. A cracking noise you know to be his knees rings out, and though you feel a little bad, you're unwilling to back down in your quest to get him back into bed.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is built like a brick shithouse and is just as stubborn as you. Slowly, he manouevers around your small apartment all the while you hang off his back like a drunken Koala.

"Babyyyy," you whine petulantly into his ear, arms tightening around his neck in an attempt to only slightly choke him into submission.

Sighing, Jason starts to wander back into the bedroom. Just when you think you've won, he spins around, falling backwards onto the mattress and crushing you beneath his bulk.

In the minutes you spend winded, recovering, from being squished like an ant, Jason makes his escape. When you finally manage to come back to yourself you notice something incredibly distressing.

"Clothes! Why are you wearing clothes!" you wailed, sliding off the mattress and onto the floor in a pathetic slump.

Despite himself, Jason smiles at the sight, bundling you up in his arms before hopping back into bed with you. "Ok, you big dramatic baby."

Hey may have sounded put out, but the both of you knew he wanted to cuddle just as much. Besides, nothing was as important to him as you.

TIM DRAKE

He’d tried to be quiet. Truly, with years of training in the art of stealth Tim had intended to simply slip out of the bed and leave you to the sleep you needed.

He’d almost made it, both feet on the floor and the mattress no longer bearing most of his weight when all of a sudden a hand darted out, grasping his wrist.

Tim froze, slowly turning to look down at you with wide, guilty eyes. You're glaring up at him, sleep-addled face far more adorable than threatening, not that he'd ever tell you that, for fear of getting his ass beat.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" your voice is hoarse and gravelly from sleep but the threat is evident.

Mouth suddenly dry, Tim awkwardly chuckles, "Oh, babe, you're awake."

"Thanks to you," you grumbled sleepily, guilt and fear in equal measurements settling heavily in his chest.

"M'sorry, tried not to wake you but I gotta get to work on this case."

"No." You grunted, wrapping your arms around Tim's waist with freakish speed, nuzzling your face into his side.

He can't help the way his heart skips several beats at your casual affection. Tim's always been starved for touch, for the soft loving touch that you've always provided as if its as natural as breathing.

He should be used to it but despite the years worth of love and affection you've poured into Tim in the time you've spent together he still hasn't acclimated.

Tim knows, that you know, just how weak to your touch he is. It still doesn't prevent his resolve from crumbling when you refuse to let him budge, tugging him back down into your warm embrace.

"Good boy," you murmur against the skin of his neck, wrapping around his back like an octopus and trapping him against the expanse of your chest.

His skin runs hot at your words, mind numb to anything that's not your touch as he's eventually lulled back to sleep to the soothing sounds of your breathing.

[mcuamerica]

Hi could I request flustered Azriel? Idc what i just wanna see him and his shadows blushin a little bit :) thank you!!! and feel free to ignore <3

Of course! Flustered Az is one of my favorites! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: One of Madja's apprentices catches Azriel's eye...

Warnings: not proofread, pure fluff, flustered Az, mention of wounds from battle (let me know if I missed anything)

The first time he saw you, you were working on tonics in Madja's workshop. And you stopped him dead in his tracks. He completely forgot what he was going to say. Or even what he was here to retrieve.

He didn't even have the courage to ask for your name when Madja finally snapped him back to reality. She gave him a sidelong glace as she pushed him out of the workshop with the tonics for the Court, and all but slammed the door in his face. She would not let him simper for her ward.

After that day, Azriel made excuse after excuse to visit the workshop, but he never saw you again. He was worried that he made you up, dreamed you. The way parts of your hair fell from your braid into your face. How your hands, which looked so soft in the fae light, worked with the delicate jars around you. And even how your eyes light up at the sound of liquid pouring into glass. The glance at you was all but 10 seconds, and yet, it was enough for Azriel to ride on for the next 3 months.

Then he saw you the night they defeated Koschei. Madja had gone to tend Lucien and Elain, and you were there to help Azriel. His injuries were somewhat normal, aside from the large gash in his calf he hadn't been able to repair. You nervously sat in front of him, hands steady although he could smell your nerves. Or were those his own?

His shadows even danced around you, fluttering at every movement you made. You didn't even say anything as you dabbed a clean cloth into water, settling in front of him on a small stool. "Hi." You whispered, finally looking to meet hie eyes.

He stuttered. Azriel, spymaster and shadowsinger of the Night Court, couldn't get out two words. His eyes only widened at your gentle tone, your eyes glowing in the fae light. "I'm (Y/N)... I just need to clean this wound and then I'll work on repairing it. It might sting. Let me know if you need me to stop."

He wanted you to keep talking, but all he could do was stare. Stare at the beautiful woman in front of him. His shadows circled around his back, hiding behind him as if they too were afraid of saying the wrong thing.

His leg jerked as you poured a cleansing tonic on it, his hand coming up to grip the side of the chair. You flinched at the movement, your body tensing for a moment before relaxing and continuing to clean. Azriel noticed, and decided to keep it in his head for later.

"This shouldn't hurt, but if it does, let me know." You said as you dabbed a warm cloth to the not clotted wound. You then knelt down in front of him to get a better look at the wound. His heart almost burst from his chest seeing you on your knees.

You laid your hands on his leg, just over the wound, and began to let magic flow from them to bind and heal it.

Your hands were so soft. Nothing like his worn, scarred, and callused ones. Nonetheless, he still had to restrain himself from talking one of your hands in his. Just to thank you. Thank you for even taking time to speak or look at him.

Once you were done, you stood up, wiping your hands on a wet towel. "Madja will check in on the wound, but you should be set to resume your normal activities tomorrow morning." You said, gave a small bow of your head, and moved to walk away.

But he grabbed your wrist. A gentle grab that had you worried you missed a wound in your initial assessment, but when you looked him over, you found nothing else wrong with him. Other than the shadows that were swirling around his back, as if nervous.

"I'm Azriel." He said, finally finding his tongue. Gods, that was the most he could come up with?

His eyes widened at the giggle you let out of your lips, letting go of your wrist. You covered your mouth for a moment as another string of giggled fell out. "I know who you are, Shadowsinger." You said, your smile the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

A blush crept up his cheeks, making his shadows swirl around his face in order to hide it from you. Hide his mortification. Of course you knew who he was.

"Uh.. Is there anything else I can get for you, my lord?" You asked, seemingly realizing that you were in the presence of a deadly warrior and you had just laughed at him.

"N- Yes- No." He stuttered again. Lucien, on the other side of the room, glanced over to the spymaster. Did Azriel ever stutter?

"No?" You asked, tentatively.

"No.. I'm.. fine." He said. "Thank you." He said, thanking his shadows as they hid his face even more. If it wouldn't horrify him even more, he would bury his head in his hands. And that's exactly what he did when you walked away, telling Madja you'd be going home before disappearing out the door.

-

You saw Azriel the next day at the workshop. Madja was still tending to Elain, who was resting at the River House with Lucien. So, you took charge as all of the other apprentices were somehow on holiday.

He walked into the shop, pausing as he saw you at the front desk, scribbling something in a notebook. "(Y/N)?" He tentatively said.

Your head perked up from the book, eyes widening of your own. His voice was so gentle. Gods, he took up half the lobby with his large wings. It was your turn to blush, realizing you'd been staring at him. "Hi, Lord-"

"Azriel.. Just call me Azriel." He said, the heat on his neck slowly creeping to his cheeks.

"Azriel.. Hi. Did you need something?" You asked, standing up. The top of your head barely even reached his shoulder as he walked up to the counter.

"My leg is bothering me today.. Did you have a pain tonic in stock?" He asked.

A deep frown formed on your lips as you peered over the counter to see his leg, which was covered by his loose slacks. "Did it reopen? I'm sure I-"

"It's nothing you did." He interrupted, cursing himself for blaming the pain on his leg. You had mended it perfectly. It didn't even bother him. His hands though... "Did I say leg? I meant my hands." He said, flexing them with a wince. He easily become self-conscious as you peered at them, taking in the scars. He hide them behind his back.

"I can't give away pain tonic without Madja's okay... but she may have a note." You said and turned around. Azriel could hear your heart beating a million miles a minute. Was he being too intimidating? Were you scared of him?

"Last night... you flinched at me when I raised my hand." He said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He was never like this. He always thought through what he would say. What was it about him that made him stumble over his words? That made the normal leash he had on them go slack?

You paused as you opened a drawer and looked up at him, your hands shaking every so slightly. "I've tended to males who are not kind when they feel pain... It's a habit I am getting over now that I am working for Madja." You said, voice wavering, and found a note about how Azriel could receive pain tonic for his hands. You worked your way to the case in the back, unlocking it and finding the right dose to give him.

As you turned back around, the look he gave you was only one of a gentle male. One who understood what you had been through and wanted to make sure you never went through it again. It wasn't anger.. but hope. That he would be there to stop it one day.

You noticed his shadows still dancing around his back again, as if hiding from you. As you handed the tonic over to Azriel, your hands brushed. He nearly dropped the glass at the shock that went through him.

"Would you like to eat?" He asked.

You peered up at him, eyebrows furrowed at the question. However, the side of your mouth ticked up as you realized what he was asking.

His cheeks heated once more. He was pretty sure his entire face was the shade of Cassian's siphon. "I mean with me. Would you like to eat with me? Not right now. Or ever if you don't want to-"

"I would love to." You cut him off, releasing your grip on the tonic in his hand. "I close the shop at 5." You told him.

He cleared his throat, nodding to himself as he tucked his hands behind his back again. His shadows rushed to you at your answer. And there was that giggle as they floated through your hair. They certainly gave away that their master was happy in your response.

"I will be here at 5." He said.

"I can't wait." You replied, again that beautiful smile coming to your lips.

As he walked out, he was pretty sure he was going to die of mortification. But he wouldn't. Because now he had a meal to plan with the most beautiful female in Prythian.

A/N: Aww hope you liked this! Feel free to submit any other requests (I don't know if I'll have time to respond to them this week, but I will try!)

[love4myg]

Healing Touches

Sometimes, your boyfriend's tender touches and caring actions help heal your fragile state faster than any medication.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 2.2k

summary: yoongi comes home to find you sick / he makes you food / reader can't help but fall asleep literally everywhere / yoongi loves you too much 😪😪

warning: very brief mentions of passing out

notes: im a slut for sick fics and i couldn't find many yoongi ones so i decided to just write one 😋 if anyone has any ideas for fluffy or suggestive yoongi drabbles feel free to drop them in my asks 🙏🙏

────

"I'm home!"

Yoongi's voice echoes through the house and he furrows his eyebrows at the lack of response to his words.

Usually, he would meet you at the lobby of your shared apartment on weekdays, as you would often stay back to grade a few assignments or prepare for the next day. On the days he didn't meet you, he would hear your footsteps as you made your way to greet him, or some sort of noise to prove that you were busy doing something.

But today, there was nothing but silence. Yoongi shrugs it off. You probably just lost track of time.

He makes his way into the living room and places the keys onto the small key holder on the wall.

He begins to remove his jacket but his actions still when he finds you sitting on the couch, a large blanket completely wrapped around you. The TV in front of you was on, but the sound was barely audible and your head was turned away from whatever you had put on to rest against the leather sofa.

Yoongi folds his jacket over his arm as he makes his way over to you.

"Did you get back from work early today?" He asks, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You groan softly as you stir, slowly moving your head up to look at him through squinted eyes. You were going to whine about how he had disturbed your sleep, but decide against it. Complaining needed energy, energy that you currently lacked.

"Didn't go today. Called in sick."

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and you begin to move out of the warm confinements of your blanket. Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, reaching out his hand to place it against your forehead.

You didn't have a fever, but your words came out dry and broken and there was a clear flush to your cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me? Are you still feeling sick?"

You nod softly and move the blanket to the opposite end of the couch. You cringe at how your top sticks to your body from the sweat coating your skin.

"I just had a headache in the morning so I didn't think much of it. But after you left, I was like cold all of a sudden so I used the thermometer and it said I had a fever."

You leave out the part where you almost fainted in the bathroom as you changed back into your pyjamas after calling in sick, not wanting to worry your already worried boyfriend.

"You should've called me, I would've left work in a heartbeat," he says as he presses his lips against your forehead.

You ignore the way your heart flutters at his words, failing to bite back a smile.

"It wasn't even that bad, don't worry. Plus, I'm pretty sure the fever pretty soon after. I just fell asleep on the couch."

"Still. Did you take any medicine?"

"Yeah, I took some painkillers for the headache."

You notice how dry your voice is in your throat, wincing at the pain when you try to swallow.

"Did it help?"

"Not really, but I'm fine now so."

Yoongi places his jacket on the couch and makes his way to the medicine box he had placed in one of the kitchen cabinets, having to look through each one before finding it. He takes two tablets and brings them over to you along with a glass of water.

"I'm fine now, babe, seriously," you mumble, reluctantly taking the tablets and the glass from his hands.

"I don't wanna take any chances, love. Drink up."

He watches you as you tip the glass over your mouth and gulp down its contents. You hand it back over to him with a small sigh, and he places it down on the coffee table.

Your eyes scan over Yoongi's body. He's wearing a simple black hoodie, the one you steal from him the most because of how comfy the fabric is.

You reach out your arms invitingly, wanting nothing more than to melt in his arms after not seeing him the entire day.

"I don't wanna get you more sick though," he says, tilting his head as he runs his hands through his grown-out hair.

A small pout forms on your lips and you throw him a scowl.

"I'll get more sick and die right now if you don't cuddle me."

Yoongi laughs at your words. His gums are on display and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons.

"So dramatic," he mumbles.

The leather beside you sinks beneath his weight as he sits down and you instantly wrap yourself around him. His body radiates warmth and you throw one leg over his lap, snuggling your head closer into his chest.

────

You don't quite remember falling asleep, but when your eyes flutter open, the sunlight in the room is replaced by blue rays emitting from the TV.

Goosebumps erupt across your back and you slightly shiver. The space beside you is empty, Yoongi is no longer there to provide you with any heat.

You blame the moody weather for the chills you feel across your body. You were starting to regret throwing away the patterned blanket a few hours earlier, desperately craving the warmth it had enveloped you with.

A few minutes go by and the only thing on your mind is how you were going to die of hyperthermia any minute now. You had closed your eyes in hopes of falling asleep again, but your actions went in vain.

You let out a small groan as you turn your head to try to spot the blanket, trickles of pain erupting from your neck.

The fabric sat just out of your reach, and it seemed to mock your weak attempts at attempting to grab it.

You give up fairly quickly and resort to sitting completely still, trying to dull the ache that pulses through your limbs.

You hadn't been this sick in months and you felt as if this was the universe's way of reminding you how miserable it was.

"You OK?"

Yoongi's voice is deep and you look up to see him standing at the doorway to the living room carrying a plastic bag in one hand.

He throws his keys onto the counter and they hit the marble loudly.

His eyes squint against the harsh light of the TV as he sets down the bag and moves towards you.

"Yeah, I was just tryna get the blanket. Where were you?"

He brushes away a few strands of your hair before resting his hand against your forehead.

"Shit, you're burning up. I don't think a blanket is a good idea, love," he says.

"But it's freezinggg."

Your words come out as a small whine. Yoongi's eyes shift between you and the blanket, weighing out both options.

"How about you go to the bedroom and I can put a wet towel on your head, so you cool down while also being under the duvet?"

You practically shiver at the idea of a cold towel against your skin.

"Fine."

Yoongi reaches out his hand and you hold onto it as you stand up. It takes more energy than anticipated and you wince at the throb of pain in your legs.

"Where were you?" You repeat.

"Oh right. I was gonna make you rice porridge so I needed to get some stuff. Apparently it's great for when you're feeling sick."

You smile at your boyfriend and place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks, baby."

"Mhm, no problem." Yoongi's grateful for the dim lighting of the room so that you don't have the satisfaction of seeing the blush that taints his cheeks.

"I'll bring it to the bedroom, you go lie down."

You nod before slowly making your way to the bedroom as Yoongi moves into the kitchen.

────

By the time Yoongi comes into the room with a bowl in his hand, you're fast asleep again.

You lie completely curled up and covered by the blankets. Your cheeks are flushed from the incredible warmth you are putting your body through.

Yoongi sits down on the mattress carefully, not wanting to disrupt your peace.

"Wake up, love. Your food's ready."

"Not hungry," you mumble, bringing your knees closer to your body.

"You're not gonna get any better if you stay hungry."

You huff and reluctantly stretch out your limbs. With great effort, you lazily sit up against the headboard of the bed.

Yoongi takes a spoonful of the rice porridge and brings it to your lips. You take a mouthful and swallow it down eagerly.

"Not hungry my ass," Yoongi says with an accusing stare and you laugh.

You can't shake off the warm feeling that fills your heart at the domestics of the entire scene at hand as you take another large bite.

You end up eating the entire bowl but decide against asking for seconds. The need to sleep was stronger than anything else right now.

Yoongi leaves the room to put the bowl back and bring you a wet towel. He returns to find you sleeping again.

Your body must be exhausted from fighting whatever sickness had overtaken you for you to be sleeping this much.

He gently places the towel over your forehead, pressing it down so that it doesn't slip off onto the mattress.

Your brows furrow at his actions but you don't wake up. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, mumbling under his breath.

"Pretty."

Yoongi never thought he would find the one. He believed in love, but the idea of finding someone he could think of as home always seemed too unrealistic, a mere fantasy he would sometimes use for inspiration in his lyrics.

He never thought that the simple thought of someone could brighten his day. Until he met you.

You were chaotic and quiet and everything in between. Someone people could talk to comfortably and freely, someone open-minded and thoughtful.

Everyone seemed to love you, which is why it confused Yoongi whenever you would get flustered at the compliments that fell from his lips.

He thought you would have been used to it. He didn't know how someone could talk to you without showering you with compliments.

When he had told you this one night during the first few months of your friendship—before you started dating—you had laughed, confessing how you rarely ever got compliments. Yoongi still remembers how he had stood there dumbfounded.

Ever since that night, he had made a vow to shower you with compliments.

However, the words soon turned into a habit. They weren't any less truthful, but he found himself whispering them to you even while you were out of earshot or while you slept, like now.

Yoongi stays by your side for a minute longer, simply admiring the way the lamp on your nightstand illuminates your features with its faint glow.

Eventually, he stands up, only to feel your hand grab his before he can take a step.

Your grip is loose and your eyes are still closed, but you lightly tug at the sleeve of his hoodie and he finds himself returning to your side.

"Can you get me the blanket from the living room?"

Exhaustion laces your words despite the numerous naps you had taken throughout the day.

"Aren't you warm enough? I dont want you to have a heatstroke or something."

"I won't, I swear. Please?"

How can Yoongi say no when your voice comes out so fragile and your grip is so gentle. Fuck, you truly did have him wrapped around your finger.

"Fine."

You smile and Yoongi feels his heart skip multiple beats.

Your hand drops from his top and Yoongi retrieves your treasured blanket in less than a minute.

He drapes it over your figure, placing a kiss on your nose as he does so. He fights the urge to immediately slip into the bed beside you, not wanting your sickness to worsen from whatever his clothes may have contracted over the day.

He lazily strips himself and changes into the first pair of sweatpants he sees. He also takes off the wet towel from your forehead, wiping down your face and neck with it before folding it and placing it onto the nightstand.

Finally, he climbs under the duvet beside you. Your body instinctively turns to face his.

Yoongi doesn't expect to feel your lips on his cheek.

"Thank you. I really don't deserve you," you whisper. You drape an arm across his chest and roll onto your stomach, letting out a small moan of pain as you do so.

"You do, baby."

You deserve a lot more than just him taking care of you. You deserve the world itself in your hands and Yoongi knows that if you were to ever ask, he would give it to you in a heartbeat. He would give you the world and so much more.

He leans over your body to switch off the lamp.

"I love you," you whisper, a small yet content smile drawn on your face.

"I love you too."

[bluesidez]

Dad!Miguel drabble for Father's Day!!

content warning: curvy!reader, fem!reader, fluff, a little suggestive so MINORS BEWARE

word count: 697, not proofread (I can write less than 9k...contrary to popular belief)

other dad content ➺ DadBod!Miguel | Dad!Miguel Drabble | DadGymRat!Miguel Drabble | Dad'sBestFriend!Miguel

This can be in the same universe as the Dad Bod fic because I kept the kiddos' names the same, but I didn't describe Mig's body here, so you can imagine it how you would like! :D

Only Miguel would have to come into work on Father's Day of all days.

He woke up with his face snug against your chest and a whisper of the holiday greeting on your lips. It was way too hot to be grasping at each other so early, but that didn't stop him from grinning against your mouth as he held one of your thighs over his body.

A blissful morning of kisses and sweet nothings before the kids woke up was interrupted by the shrill of his work phone that he stupidly forgot to put on silent.

So here he was running back home after fixing a multitude of electric billboards across the city that read "Happy Farter's Day" instead of "Happy Father's Day." Of all of the staff in the company, Miguel wasn't sure why he was chosen to fix it. Maybe he was a father that wanted to have a nice, unbothered farting day.

It was itching close to the afternoon which meant almost a day gone without staring in your face and laughing with his babies. Almost a day gone without hearing the people closest to his heart.

Miguel nearly flew down the highway just to get back home. He wanted to be near his family.

He's never driven into a garage so fast.

"Honey? Mija? Mijo?"

Miguel's lanyard tapped against his button-up as he called out for the three of you. The house was quiet minus the ceiling fans humming in the window-lit rooms.

Had the three of you gone out without him?

Miguel walked through the house listening and looking for any clues as to where you all might be. Right when he was about to call you in a panic, he heard a giggle come from the deck.

Sliding the curtain open, he watched as his babies were running through the backyard, Raul barely keeping up with Gabriella's speed.

"You're back!" Miguel could hear you to the left of him. His breath hitched taking in your figure.

A blue flowy dress frames your curves, thin straps hug your shoulders, and the cut of the neckline accentuates the place where he held his head this morning.

You walk up to him and reach up for a kiss that he happily reciprocates, "Welcome home, baby."

You call the kids to come up and eat. Their little feet scatter to reach Miguel.

He bends down to take them into his arms, a hearty laugh leaving him as he picks them both up in the air. He plants their faces with raspberry kisses, Gabriella squealing while Raul asks for him to do it again and again.

You smile at them, watching as Miguel spun around with the kids holding on tight. The grumpiness that filled Miguel up this morning after that dreaded call poured out of him and was replaced with warmth and happiness.

This is the moment that Miguel was yearning to experience all morning. A day for him and his family.

"C'mon. Go get changed so we can head over to Gabriel's. He said something about a grill and a splash pad?" you slid your hand over his lower back, fingers sliding through the belt loops of his pants.

As you took a tug at one loop, Miguel leaned over and gave your lips a peck, "Gabriel only knows how to work one of those things."

"I guess we have to take a gamble with today's lunch then," you chuckle, taking Raul from Miguel as he sat Gabriella down. "Dinner will be perfect for sure."

"Yeah?" Miguel raised an eyebrow you. Your eyes were full of mirth and something else Miguel couldn't quite place yet. "I can't wait, then."

When Miguel was up in the bedroom, he began to see why that playful glint painted your face.

A small gift back was placed on the bed with a new silk tie and the tag for what he could assume was a pair of panties.

"A matching set for you and I. I wonder what can be done with this tie?

When the mood is right, we'll find out tonight.

A fun way to end your lovely Father's Day."

Dinner would definitely exceed lunch.

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT! I love to see what you guys have to say! <3

a/n: I hope everyone who deserves it has a Happy Father's Day! I'm talking older siblings who raised their siblings, kids who grew up too fast, single mothers, single fathers, good fathers, and fictional men who will stop the world for their kids! You're doing great. Tomato to deadbeat fathers. You deserve nothing.

taglist: @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @slushycoookie @calig0sto @ghost-lantern

@tatatida @haveclayeveryday @corpsenightmarebride @samjinxx @earth2fae

@maiyart @Feegrh32 @darkstalight82 @ladysimp @vmpz8sauceee

@Leonsbimbogf @unwrittenletter @maxlinpetersen @madeofstar-dust @leoeloo

@just-simpins-blog @poisamm @thequeenreaders @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@tojishugetiddies @pigeonmama @av3da @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli

@koikohib @jayskookies

[anakinstwinklebunny]

CLAYTON BERESFORD HEAD CANONS 💲

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

💲Clayton Beresford who didn't really trust you at all in the beginning (clear trust issues after Sam). When he started developing feelings for you, he'd be very distant with them. Not really sure how to react, he takes a break from seeing you to give himself time and understand what is going on with him. But after he concluded that he misses you and really likes you, he'd decide to talk to you about his feelings. Giving you a chance, but most importantly, giving himself a chance to love again

💲Clayton Beresford who takes things slow; trying to make sure you're not using him for money

💲Clayton Beresford who quickly becomes obsessed with you. He could just watch you do anything and his eyes would have this spark that only you could bring out

💲Clayton Beresford who loves to watch you get ready; whenever it's dressing up, doing makeup, he absolutely loves it. The way you got so focused on the task was so alluring for him; your narrowed brows, bit lower lip

💲Clayton Beresford who would help you put necklaces, not being able to stop himself from planting gentle kisses on your exposed neck

💲Clayton Beresford who obviously loves to spoil you in every way he could come up with. He'd buy you stuff that you're interested in; like jewellery, dresses, books you enjoy reading, etc. But he'd try his best to do gifts himself as well; in spare time or when he's taking a break from work he'd try to do some origami (his favorite is rose since his mother taught him how to do it when he was a kid) or would try to learn to cook different things for you, almost burning the kitchen since he's not the best chef

💲Clayton Beresford who's taking care of you especially when you're on your period. Would make sure you're all comfortable, have all things near you so you don't have to move too much, having in mind how painful cramps can get. He'd definitely snuggle up to you, pampering you with kisses while his hands carefully move over your body, trying to not cause any sharp pain. And if you'd have cravings he'd try to satisfy them too, even the weirdest ones

💲Clayton Beresford who's sometimes giving you his credit card, trusting you to not spend all of his money

💲Clayton Beresford who's always eager to watch your little fashion show in your new clothes you've bought

💲Clayton Beresford who can't help but give you a light smack on your butt whenever you bend down. Or just wraps his arms around your waist from behind to rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you do whatever you did

💲Clayton Beresford who has a habit to cook with you and get silly like little kids. Mostly you two would end up with flour on your cheeks and clothes

💲Clayton Beresford who seeks comfort from you, opening about his traumatic experience he had during the surgery. He'd often feel down as his mind drifts back to his mother. But to not be alone, he'd come to you. At first he'd just ask if he could hug you and when you'd give him permission to, he'd burry his face in your neck, savouring your scent that always managed to calm him down

💲Clayton Beresford who can't go out of bed without having at least five minutes of cuddles and morning talk with you or having a little love making; he'd mostly thrust into you from behind, groaning in his morning, raspy voice against your neck, kissing it softly;

💲Clayton Beresford who loves to show you off (only if you're comfortable with it). Will take you to different meetings and events, having his hand on your waist or lower back

💲Clayton Beresford who wants to make you happy everyday since you're making him the happiest he could ever be

💲Clayton Beresford who loves when you cuddle to him

💲Clayton Beresford who's work ends the first sec you walk into his office. Knowing that you're his best distraction

💲Clayton Beresford who's a soft dom;

"Fuck, I could stay in you for hours" he intensived his thrusts, making you moan even louder

"Mh-- can't more.. s'too much clay" you mewl, your eyes barely open from such an amazing feeling he was able to provide you

"C'mon sweetheart..you can take it, know you can.." he gasped out, his body trembling as he felt the first waves of pleasure coursing through him.

💲Clayton Beresford who can't keep his hands off you after he comes back from meetings/events that lasted few days;

his lips left kisses all over your neck as you felt his long fingers go down to brush against your already soaked panties. He stopped kissing you, making your cheeks burn in heat even more "You're so wet for me..." he broke the silence that made you hold your breath "such a needy girl, you've been waiting all day, huh?"

"Damn it... need to be inside of you more..." He moved his hips in an attempt to find a deeper angle. His hands moved down to squeeze your hips as he thrust harder, pushing against the tight muscles of your core

"Shit... can't hold back... you're so damn tight..." He clenched his teeth and continued to thrust to reach his peak and hopefully send you over the edge of your own ecstacy

💲Clayton Beresford who bends you over his desk, completely not caring about the papers that can fold or tear;

"Now, now..you're gonna be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth closed, hm? We don't want all my employees to hear how I'm gonna tear you apart, do we pretty girl?"

💲Clayton Beresford who takes his time with you. Even if he's a dom he wouldn't do something you don't want or don't feel comfortable with, since he sees sex as something both sides should enjoy/feel good with and not only one

"That's it baby, tell me how good it feels to have such a generous man inside of you." Clayton's lips curl into a breathless smirk as his thrusts become more deliberate yet rough as you mewl and moan in answer

💲Clayton Beresford who can't help but make love to you (that's a very polite way to call it) when you have a new dress on. There's just something about it that makes him go nuts; your face all twisted in pleasure when he fights the urge to rip the material off;

"You will like it even more when I rip it off," he groaned, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he reached out to feel the fabric between his slim fingers to tear the dress off your body. Causing a helpless whine leave your mouth while your hands tried to push his away. You liked this dress way too much to let him just rip it off like this

"Shh..it's just a dress..I'll buy you another one, the same..promise-- could even buy you more if you wanted"

(or when you beg him to get rid of the dress, too impatient at his long foreplay)

"Please clay...just--take it off.." you whine

"As you wish, sweetheart" he murmurs with a proud smile, pleasant how you've became such a mess underneath him so easily "But trust me when I say that once I've taken off every stitch of clothing from your gorgeous body, I won't be able to stop myself from taking you again and again..until you're nothing but a pretty little mess in my arms"

💲Clayton Beresford who slips his hands under your shirt whenever he's holding you from behind

💲Clayton Beresford who makes sure you understand your worth and see how special/beautiful you are

💲Clayton Beresford who will buy you gifts without the occasion

💲Clayton Beresford who loves the simple things you two do together that he had never done before. Like going grocery shopping (he'd look all around as if he had never seen a grocery shop before and in general would look lost and wouldn't leave your side), playing board games, going to the zoo, using a train (he'd look lost as hell)

💲Clayton Beresford who enjoyed spending time with your family since you had aunts, cousins, grandparents, etc. You just had everything he didn't have anymore and as much as it sometimes pained him, there was something calming to see you and other people from your family to interact in such close way

💲Clayton Beresford who loves how sweet you are. Always giving him kisses here and there, cuddling to him, giving him small gifts you did yourself or bought for him. Or just in general, cause he sees you as his special girl. How you've showed him the love he thought he won't ever experience again, gave him his happy ending- you're just his special, miracle girl he'd love forever

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate (missing you love) @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[riminiscensce]

FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS

CHARACTERS … sethos , kaveh , alhaitham , wanderer , cyno , tighnari

SYNOPSIS … you made them friendship bracelets!

NOTES … genshin version of the haikyuu one i made a while ago :D

CONTENTS … fluff , gender neutral reader , probably inaccurate representation of sethos's personality , I haven’t done the story quest 💀 , not beta read

SETHOS

He wears it anywhere he goes. I feel like he’ll be 50/50 on talking about it to other people though.

Like he wouldn’t randomly go up to a person and show them the beautiful bracelet his partner made for him, but at the same time he won’t stop talking about it whenever he’s guiding a lost traveler through the desert. It’s like a sort of payment for stumbling upon Sethos when you’re lost.

At first, he would be paranoid at getting the bracelet wet so he’ll avoid getting rained on for a short while or take it off when it does, you’d have to tell him it’s okay and that the bracelet can withstand getting a little wet 😭

Though it’ll be a different story when it does eventually snap when he’s out traveling.

I wanna say he’d be bad at making it, but to be fair, friendship bracelets can be made by literally anyone and Sethos is no exception. He just won’t be able to catch up on complicated patterns, but he LOVES playing with random beads.

Will probably end up getting sidetracked with throwing some beads to knock over some bottles from afar, you always end up joining him (but he will always be the one to pick them up after).

Will ask you to guide him through it and at the end of the session, you’ll have a very adorable bracelet dangling around your wrists!

Bonus points if the two of you just stick some shiny beads onto each other’s hair.

KAVEH

I fear he might cherish it forever. Like literally wears it 24/7, whether he takes it off when he showers or not is up for debate (I’m kidding, he definitely takes it off— he’s not that obsessed yet)

Flexes it to his friends to the point that they’d leave early from their little get together because Kaveh keeps flaunting how endearing and thoughtful you are to them.

Oh, and if he’s drunk? The showing off x2

But whenever he’s starting to wake up in the morning after with a migraine and a tired body, he softly gazes at the treasure adorned around his wrist.

He thinks it sounds immensely cheesy, but looking at it makes him lose all the tiredness he has in his body.

Kaveh wonders if you also gave a bunch to your friends something similar, or if you only made one for him.

He giggles at the thought.

Overall, acts like a lovesick teenage girl with it.

ALHAITHAM

Thinks twice about it.

Is it appropriate for someone like him, the Grand Sage, to wear something that seems so… childish and silly?

For the first few days, he doesn’t wear it. Truthfully, Alhaitham shouldn’t feel worried about whatever he wears on his person, he’s the least person to care really.

But there are lengths to which he feels should remain unexplored.

Though he grows more and more restless when he sees your pained expression. He hears you sighing and muse how you worked so hard to make the materials out of scratch and even mined some minerals for the other beads.

Alhaitham knows you're doing this to get something out of him, he knows that... and he hates how it has an effect on him.

The next day, scholars in the Akademiya continue to whisper about the Grand Sage’s new shiny (silly) bracelet.

Is he going to elaborate about it to anyone? Most likely not.

But he thinks that it was worth wearing for your flighty grin.

WANDERER

At this point, he should get used to the scholars giving him the most random things whenever he would happen to walk by.

He really didn’t think of wearing it, just accepting it and wishing that you’d forget about it the next day.

Instead though, he’s the one taking the time of his day to examine the piece of work.

He simply doesn’t understand. It’s neither made out of gold nor any rare mineral— just a bunch of shaped beads that match the colors of his clothes with the beads spelling out “hat guy” in the middle.

It was also a bit too dangly to his liking, he would definitely not wear it.

He ends up wearing it— he decided that it’s because he likes the way it jiggles controllably around his wrist whenever he would sit in the library while writing down something he was obligated to.

Eventually, he grows to like the way it irritates some of the annoying scholars in the library.

He should ask you to make some more for him, now that would genuinely annoy some people he wasn’t on good terms with.

CYNO

Ever seen a General Mahamatra with a colorful band of beads decorating their wrists? Now you have.

It was another day in Sumeru, except General Cyno walked around town with a glistening bracelet.

At first everyone grew to accept it, finding the look to be quite endearing on the usually straight-faced man. But everyone eventually realizes that something so innocent looking does not fit the General when he’s doing his daily tasks around the city.

Hunting down a runaway scholar with illegal research? The scholar would have pissed themselves if they didn’t notice the light-hearted jewelry on Cyno (who was quite the opposite and emitting pure lightning for intimidation).

He’s fighting some loose creatures with some witness? Yeah, they would focus on the dangling bracelet of the General rather than admiring his fighting capabilities, or thinking of evacuating.

The only times that the bracelet would suit Cyno was when he was honest; when he would feel like a genuine boy with the most childish things.

This happens whenever he plays TCG (and wins), and when he’s with you. The someone who gave him something so vulnerable and pure.

TIGHNARI

Surprisingly, he has two sides in this: The first is feeling genuinely smitten (of course he wouldn’t outwardly show it), feeling protective of the trinket you made him.

Tighnari takes his sweet time admiring each detail about it, from the interesting color choices to the materials you used for the strong band to hold everything together.

But the second side is feeling dirtying it.

He usually works in the forest, somewhere muddy and moist, would he really wear your work of art out while he’s working and risk the possibility of tainting it?

Or even worse— destroying it and losing all the beads all over the grass to the point that he’s unable to fix them.

Clearly, he overthinks a bit but ends up regaining his senses before wearing it on his wrist.

When he comes down from his office, Tighnari silently melts at the sight of you teaching Collei how to make the same friendship bracelets.

You know… just in case someone accidentally breaks it while working.

rimi’s notes

I started writing this when Sethos was first drip marketed but had to wait to know his personality so 💀 also added Sethos to the eras event but I’m only gonna be posting on my wattpad which is this !! Feel free to check it out :D I have other one shots there that I posted since last year

hearts / reblogs / follows are very much appreciated ★