#but taking that away to leave his bare chest changes the whole look

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Still Beautiful

Pairings: James Potter x Disabled!Reader (part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader) Summary: James sees something you don't want him to see. Warnings: Chronic pain, swelling, self-image issues Series Masterlist

The four-poster bed creaks under your weight as you sink into the mattress, a sigh slipping past your lips. Your fingers curl around the edges of the velvet curtains, pulling them closed against the dimming light that filters through the high windows of Gryffindor Tower. You can't help but grimace as the fabric brushes against your swollen knuckles, the pain more intense than you'd like to admit.

Your body feels heavy, the day's strains taking their toll on muscles and joints that have never known such exertion. The swelling in your limbs has grown worse, and each movement is an effort, a battle fought and lost against the limitations of your own flesh and bone. But it's not just the physical pain that gnaws at you; it's the exhaustion that clings to your spirit, the kind that sleep can't touch.

"James," you had said earlier, meeting his concerned gaze across the Great Hall's long table, "I can manage. Go on with Sirius and Remus. There's no need for all of us to miss out because I'm... like this."

But now, alone in the semi-darkness with only the faint crackle of the hearth for company, you question your decision. The ache in your limbs deepens, stubborn as the stone walls surrounding you, and you feel a familiar heaviness creep into your thoughts.

The door creaks open, the sound barely audible. It must be one of the guys, you think, checking on you or bringing something to eat. You're too spent to sit up, but you manage a feeble, "Hey," your voice barely more than a whisper. Your eyelids flutter, heavy with exhaustion.

"Hey, sweetheart," James replies, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. There's an undercurrent of worry that belies his calm exterior, but he masks it well. His steps are light as he crosses the room, likely trying not to disturb you if you're drifting off.

Before you can protest, tell him you're fine and he should get back to whatever he was doing, the blanket is carefully peeled back. Cool air rushes in, making you shiver. You wince as the sudden change in temperature heightens your awareness of the aches pulsating through your body.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

The words die in his throat, and the air around you shifts. He's seen it. You can almost hear the unspoken acknowledgment in the silence that stretches between you. He's seen your legs—the swollen joints, the skin discoloured beyond recognition. It looks worse today, you think.

You reach for the blanket, intending to pull it back over your body, but James is faster. His hand closes over yours, not in a grip of restraint, but with a gentleness that surprises you.

"Wait—don't," he says, the words coming out as a soft command. He moves to kneel by the bed, his face level with yours, but his eyes are fixed on your legs. The furrow in his brow deepens, not from revulsion but from something else—concern, perhaps. You hate that look; it only drives the point deeper that you're broken, less than whole.

"James, don’t… it’s not your problem, okay?" The words come out sharper than you intend, a defence mechanism against the vulnerability seeping through the cracks of your facade. You don't want him to see you like this, unanchored and drifting in the vast sea of your own thoughts.

"It's not nothing," he insists, his gaze never leaving your face. "I wish you'd told me it was this bad today."

The thought of discussing it, especially with James looking at you as if you might shatter into pieces at any moment, fills you with an acute sense of embarrassment. Your chest constricts further, and you reach for the blanket, wanting to hide yourself away from his scrutiny, but he catches your hand before you can pull it up.

"Hey, it's alright..." James murmurs, not an order but a lifeline thrown out to you. He eases himself onto the bed's edge, careful not to jostle you more than necessary. His hand comes to rest on your leg, a touch so light it's more warmth than weight. Yet it anchors you in a world that seems intent on slipping away.

"Look at me," he says, as if his voice alone could unravel the knots of confusion in your mind. When your eyes stay fixed on some distant point, he lifts your chin with two gentle fingers, compelling you to meet his gaze. "You're still you, do you understand? This doesn't change who you are."

But you don't reply, because how can you when every fibre of your being screams otherwise? Today, with your body bloated and strange, your thoughts slow and muddled, you feel anything but yourself.

James moves closer, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your thigh. His eyes never leave yours, and in them, you see not disgust or pity, but love—unwavering and true. "You're still beautiful. You're still the woman I fell for, and the one Sirius and Remus adore. This," he gestures to your swollen limbs, "changes none of that."

You scoff, the sound hollow even to your own ears. "Right, because this is really attractive."

His expression softens further, if that's even possible. "Your beauty isn't about the physical alone—it's who you are." His voice is firm but kind, the conviction behind his words unshakeable. "And if you don't believe me…"

James doesn't finish the sentence, nor does he need to. Instead, his body leans into yours, a silent plea for understanding. His lips find yours in a tender kiss that leaves no room for argument—not that you would have the strength to resist. His mouth is warm and inviting, mirroring the gentleness you've come to associate with James himself. The kiss deepens, drawing you in, making your head spin with a mix of confusion and longing.

He kisses you as though there's nothing else in the world that matters more than this moment—than you. It's a slow dance at first, a tentative exploration that leaves both of you breathless, but then the rhythm changes. The kiss grows fervent, desperate even, as if trying to convey all the words left unsaid.

One hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other traces a path up your side, sending shivers down your spine and setting your skin ablaze where it makes contact. You can't help but respond, matching his intensity with a fervour you didn't know you possessed.

His confidence, his easy affection—they chip away at the wall you've built around yourself, brick by brick, until it crumbles. And for a fleeting moment, you let yourself feel wanted, cherished.

You begin to think that perhaps... just perhaps... James might be right after all

When you finally break for air, your foreheads rest together, and he grins, his breath warm against your skin. It's a teasing smile, one that sets your heart fluttering despite everything.

"See?" he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Still irresistible."

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch upwards. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, you love me for it," he counters, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

The knot in your stomach loosens slightly, and the pain, though still present, feels a little less overwhelming. For now, with James at your side, there is room to breathe.

[littleeyesofpallas]

[1] [2] [3]

[dragonsholygrail]

A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.

[f1fantasys]

I have a good idea. Reader is Lando's girlfriend and she has big breasts (all those big chested people) and there on a yacht for holidays, and one of Lando's friends keep looking at her chest making him angry.

So when everyone goes to bed, Lando makes sure he hears everything he is doing to reader.

Have a good day. 🫂

Summer Break

Warnings - smut, all smut, and swearing.

Summer break - sea, sun, sand, sex, beaches, bikini's, cocktails, and more sex - what more could one ask for?

You were currently soaking up the sun in Portugal with Lando, your besties Max and P, and some other friends. A whole week of fun with no restrictions and no camera's.

Today, you'd all hopped on a yacht which you were to spend the night on. As soon as it docked the music was blasting and the drinks were flowing.

You'd slipped away with Lando to go find your room and change into some swimwear. When Lando saw you take yet another skimpy bikini out of your bag, he groaned, taking you by surprise.

''Ugh baby, you don't know what you're doing to me wearing these everyday! You look so fucking hot. Makes me wanna jump you in front of everyone!'' he exclaimed.

''Huh, as if you aren't strutting around looking handsome as hell with your abs on display'' you rolled your eyes, smirking at him before he pulled you down to sit on his lap.

You cupped his face and sloshed your lips together, biting at and gnawing at his bottom lip as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You both fought each other til Lando moved his lips down to your neck and suckled and soothed at your neck, leaving a series of hickeys for later.

Your breath hitched as he started cupping your sex through your dress, it suddenly dawning on you just how wet you were.

''Need you, Lan'' you mumbled as he rid you of all your clothes, leaving you bare on his thighs.

''How the hell do you get this wet so quickly?'' he asked, eyes wide but a shade darker.

''Hmm let's call it the Lando effect'' you whispered as you slid off him to rid him of his own shorts and tee.

His cock sprang free, achingly hard and angry, as you pumped him a few times before you sucked at his tip and gave him a few mouth fucks to lube him up, not that he needed it because you were fucking dripping. He hissed at the contact, praising your name.

Since time was not on your side right now and it wouldn't be long until someone came looking for you, so you let him go with a pop and climbed on top of him before you sank down with one thrust.

Lando moaned into your hair as you held onto his shoulders and started riding him hard and fast. He settled his hands on your boobs and pinched your nipples through his fingers, earning himself delicious moans from you.

''Shh baby, gonna have to be quiet, unless you want the others to hear us'' he smirked, hands now on your hips and thrusting himself upwards to meet you half way.

What he said went through one ear and out the next, as your moans only got louder so Lando eventually had to settle by placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

You played him by taking two of his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them while he kept his eyes glued to your.

''Fuck you're tight'' Lando said through gritted teeth. His fingers remained in your mouth as his other land reached down to pinch your clit.

''I'm gonna cu-'' but before you could finish your sentence your orgasm ripped through your body, making you shake and shudder in Lando's arms as your walls clenched tightly around his girth.

'''Fuck Lan'' you squealed as his movements got rougher, chasing his own high.

He let out a moan of your name as you felt him shoot his thick cum into you, dick twitching uncontrollably.

You both rode through your orgasms, trying to calm your breathing as Lando pulled you in for a gentle kiss. You ran your hand through his hair which was now sticking to his forehead due to the thin sheet of sweat he'd formed.

You gently slid off him, wincing at the loss of contact as you both cleaned up and eventually got dressed - you sliding into a red two piece that showed off your body in ways Lando couldn't describe. Your slightly-bigger-than normal boobs looked fucking amazing, and he knew he'd be hard all day by just looking at them.

You watched as he looked at your boobs, licking his lips.

''Fuck Lan stop, can't be looking at me like that in front of everyone, you smacked his arm playfully.

''Just looking at what I'll be having for round 2 tonight'' he replied, pecking your lips before you both chuckled and went back to your friends.

The mid morning-afternoon was going well. You were all lazying around, eating too much and drinking too much. Lando and Max had gone out jet skying while you and P opted to work on your tans.

As you layed on the sunbed with a few of the others, you couldn't help but notice one of your friends' friend - Cal, you think his name was - sending you flirty glances, shamelessly lowering his eyes to your chest whenever you looked at him.

You ignored him best you could, until you went to the bar to get another drink and he followed you there.

''Hey''' he said, approaching you.

''Uh, hey' you smiled, trying to be polite and walk away.

You succeeded, bumping into Lando as you turned the corner. He saw your expression was out of sorts.

''You okay?'' he asked.

''Yeah, let's go back to P'' you mumbled, letting the situation go.

As the afternoon and evening wore out you found yourselves sitting in a group, random stories and laugh flying around.

You noticed Cal still sending you weird glances, smirking at you. Lando had obviously noticed, so he squeezed your hand and gave you a knowing look.

By now though, you were starting to get really uncomfortable. You saw Lando's tee at the back of his chair and slid it on, hopefully that would avert Cal's eyes off of you.

It was a fail, he wasn't budging and you could feel Lando getting annoyed and fidgety in his seat.

Abruptly, you got up from yours and sat on Lando's lap, curling yourself into a ball as his arms instinctively wrapped around you.

''You ok?'' he whispered.

''Better now, yeah?'' you said, bringing your lips to his for a soft kiss though he slid his tongue into yours.

''This should show the ass that I'm taken'' you thought to yourself.

Lando made sure to keep you close throughout dinner, keeping the both of you as far as possible from Cal.

After some games and drinks, everyone started retreating back to their rooms for the night.

While you were getting ready for bed, Lando quickly popped to Max's room to get something. On the way back, he noticed Cal's room was actually next to your guys'. He smirked to himself, a plan forming in his head since it was just your two rooms on this end of the yacht.

You layed in bed, waiting for Lando, when he rushed into the room, stripping his clothes the moment the door was shut.

You gasped at him, smiling. ''Fuck me'' you said, eyes fixed on his growing cock.

''Trust me baby, I'm gonna'' he said, before launching himself at you, sending you into a fit of giggles.

He hovered above you, kissing you deeply, not getting enough. You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding his hair and pulling at it.

Lando lowered himself to bruise your neck, further south until he had one of your nipples in his mouth, biting at it harshly, as his fingered pinched at the other.

You back arched off the bed as his hand snaked down and cupped your sex, running his fingers through your folds.

''Please, Lando'' you begged.

He released your nipple from his mouth and looked at you.

''What do you want?'' he asked, smirking.

''You tongue'' you eagerly said, not caring how desperate you sounded.

He lowered himself some more and dove straight into your pussy, licking and sucking at your clit, his nose tickling your folds leaving you a breathless mess.

''Fuck, yes'' you moaned, breath hitching as he slid two fingers through your entrance, curling them at just the right time.

''So delicious baby, so fucking yummy'' he murmured.

With no warning you groaned as your orgasm, shaking your body under Lando's as your juices coated his fingers and lips.

''There we go'' he rode you through it, pepping your thighs with kisses before he sat on his heels and licked his fingers clean.

You watching him pump himself as you tried to catch your breath, your pussy clenching around nothing and desperate for more.

''Lan please, need to feel you'' you said, reached for his cock and lining him up at your entrance.

You held your breath as he slid in with ease, his mouth latching onto your nipple again.

He started thrusting into you at such a violent pace, you knew you couldn't keep your moans in, so while one hand dug deep into his biceps, you brought your other to cover your mouth and muffle your moans.

Just as you did that, Lando ripped your hand away from your mouth, shocking both you and himself at how rough he was.

''Fuck, sorry'' he said, still slamming in and out of you, but entwining your hands together.

''Don't hold it in, be as loud as you want'' he said through gritted teeth.

You showed him a confused look, breathing increasing at how his dick was twitching inside of you.

''What?'' you asked.

''Let that motherfucker next door know who you belong to. Remind him who gets to fuck you'' he said, grunting his way through the sentence.

Then it clicked in you, and your own eyes turned shades darker.

You spoke louder than usual. ''Fuck, Lando, yes, harder, deeper, please'' you begged, moaning as loud as you could.

The thrill of this quickly sent you over the edge again, releasing your cum all over Lando's cock as let out his own series of grunts at the feeling of you.

He quickly slid out of you and pulled you up, pushing you towards the wall that joined your room to that bastards'.

Your hands landed flat against the wall as Lando's chest was pressed against your back. He fucked his dripping dick back through your cunt and held onto your hair, pulling at it as he banged into you relentlessly.

''Hmm fuck. Harder'' you all but shouted as Lando had now braced his arms onto your shoulders and continued his ministrations of slamming into you.

''Taking me so fucking well babygirl, so fucking tight for me, letting me fill you up'' he moaned, his head now by your ear so you could feel his erratic breathing. You knew he was close now - so were you.

''Make me cum Lando'' you pressed, as he brought his hand to your clit again and pulled at it.

You body quickly responded, another orgasm fluttering through you violently, you body shaking and unable to hold itself up in Lando's arms.

He was now chasing his own high, movements becoming sloppier by the second.

''Fuck y/n, feels so good'' he moaned again.

You decided to help it out whispering dirty nothings to him which sent him over the edge, sheets and sheets of warm sticky cum filing you up to the brink. He swore a few more times, loud enough for Cal to probably hear, as both your movements slowed and you tried to catch you breath.

You couldn't help but giggle at Lando's antics.

You turned around and cupped his face. ''Only yours, Lan, and only you get to fuck me'' you said, smirking as he slid out of you and cleaned you both up, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

You'd both had a good fuck, which meant a good nights sleep.

At breakfast the next morning, you both noticed the uncomfortable look on Cal's face. Max had just asked how everyone slept.

''Fucking best sleep of my night'' Lando mumbled, smiling at you.

He pulled you in for a deep kiss in front of everyone, in case they needed a reminder of whose you were.

''Oh yeah, we can guess how that went'' Max said, giving Lando a pat on the back.

You didn't miss how Lando sent a wink Cal's way, before you kissed him again, sliding your tongue into his mouth and moaning loudly for everyone to hear and give you a series of cheers.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

first moments

words: 1.5k

warnings: mom!reader, dad!rafe, established relationship, brief hospital setting, anxiety (from rafe)

“rafe, wanna do chest to chest?” you hum, eyes mostly closed, the exhaustion from labor still affecting you.

“i…” he stares at you, and then at your son, resting against your chest, maternity dress pulled open so he's against your skin, his face resembling the exact same one rafe makes when he's sleeping. “its okay, you keep holding him.”

“okay.” you say, looking down at your son. it didn't take you long to decide on a name. leon andres cameron. leon after rafes grandfather and andres after your own. a good strong family name. 

“he's so perfect.” rafe whispers, his voice cracking slightly.

“come closer.” you beckon, rafe moving his chair closer, but still keeping his distance, making you frown. “what's wrong?”

rafes mouth opens, but no words come out. you pause, hand petting over leons back.

“wait…” your mind starts to piece together, still foggy from the delivery and drugs. “you haven't held him yet.”

“i-” rafe stumbles over his words, knowing he's been caught. “i can't. he's too tiny. too perfect. i-i don't want to ruin him.”

“ruin him?” you frown. “rafe, you're his father. get over here.”

you struggle to scooch over on the hospital bed, but manage to make room for rafe to sit down next to you. he even sits carefully, gnawing at his lip as you turn leon over, keeping him asleep as you turn him face up, supporting his neck the whole time.

“just cradle your arms. it's okay, you'll get used to it.” you watch as rafe moves his arms before placing leon in them, having to cover your mouth when the sudden urge to cry hits you, leon looking even smaller being held by your husband.

“i love him.” rafe whispers, voice cracking, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. “i love him so much.”

“look how relaxed he is in your arms.” you coo. “i knew you'd be a good dad.”

--

“god, im so nervous.” rafe looks in the backseat where you’re sitting, leon buckled tight into the carseat.

“its okay.” you hum, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “just drive slow.” “yeah, of course.” rafe nods. he barely puts the car above 15 miles per hour the entire ride home. leon thankfully stays asleep, you’re not sure if you could have handled just leaving the hospital and having him crying on the way home.

“okay, here.” rafe takes a deep breath as he pulls the car into the garage.

“you got his carseat?” you ask. your body is still recovering from birth, and you’re not sure if you can lift anything up without tearing.

“yeah.” rafe undoes the carseat carefully as you get out and unlock the house, happy to be home after two days spent in the hospital.

“mmm.” you breathe in the fresh air. “my eyes are so happy after all that fluorescent light.”

“um- watch out baby.” rafe hates having to have you move out of the way so quickly, but he can hear leon beginning to fuss and needs to get him inside.

you giggle and step away, watching as rafe quickly rushes to unbuckle him. he looks to you to get him out of the carrier, but you allow rafe to scoop him up, shushing him and gently rocking him back and forth.

--

“i got it.” rafe offers.

“no, he's hungry.” you groan, already feeling your breasts swelling with milk just from hearing his cry. “i can tell.”

“im sorry, baby.” rafe sighs, staying in bed as he tries to get back to sleep. no point having both of you completely exhausted.

you manage to settle leon, feeding him in the rocking chair rafe got you before you gave birth. he almost wakes when you transfer him back to the crib, but you get him down and back to rafe, crawling into bed next to him.

“i wish i could do more.” rafe sighs. so much of you is required from leon, not just the pregnancy but now needing to feed him. rafe tries to take care of anything else you could need, but he struggles with not knowing how to do things as basic as changing diapers.

“you're learning fast, rafe. it's okay.” you move closer so rafe can hold you, snuggling into your back, his hand gently rubbing over your hip.

“i don't deserve you.” you know it's just the exhaustion talking. you grip his hand in yours, squeezing three times, saying the words without needing to speak.

“we should sleep while he's asleep.” you say, rafe nodding and pressing kisses to your shoulders and upper back until you're pulled back to sleep.

--

“shh, leon, it's okay.” rafe looks around for you, surely you must have heard leons cries. you said you'd be just a minute, running to the beauty aisle to grab your conditioner before returning to rafe shopping for groceries.

rafe pushes the brim of the carrier back, his heart breaking as his sons little face scrunches with big tears rolling down his cheeks.

rafe isn't sure what to do, so he just lets his instincts guide him as he quickly undoes the seatbelt and lifts leon into his chest, being careful to hold his head just as you instructed.

the second leon is against rafes, his cries lessen, and then all together subside as rafe bounces gently.

“is he okay?” rafe looks up to see you hustling down the aisle towards him.

“yeah, he was upset but i got him.” rafe pats leons back gently, turning his head to press a kiss against his cheek.

“okay.” you let out a sigh of relief, tossing your conditioner into the grocery cart. “want me to take him?”

“no, im good.” rafe shifts leon a little as you start to walk, pushing the carrier and loading the bottom up with more groceries, especially all the things you couldn't have while pregnant but are now safe despite still breastfeeding.

rafe doesn't miss the way you keep looking over at him with light in your eyes, excitement evident at seeing how comfortable rafe is becoming with leon held snuggly in his arms.

--

“are you sure?” you ask, frowning as your eyes flicker between leon laying on the couch cushion and rafe sitting next to him, focus on your baby as he makes silly faces at him.

“baby, i know i struggled at first, but this is one weekend. you have plenty of milk pumped. ill be fine.” rafe scoops leon into his arms as he stands, walking towards you.

“besides, if i need help i can always call your mom. even wheezie, you know she'll be happy to see leon.” rafe shifts the baby to one arm while his free hand comes to cup your cheek. “go. please, i will miss you and leon will too, but you deserve a break.”

“okay.” you nod, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss to rafes lips before also kissing leon, who lets out a familiar cooing sound.

“im gonna text my girls.” you can't hide the excitement in your voice, pulling out your phone to confirm you'll be able to go to the girls spa weekend away. 

“i want nightly face times with you though baby.” you poke leons little nose, whose cheeks stretch into a smile.

--

“oh my god, rafe, is everything okay?” you squeal, squinting at the screen as if it'll somehow make leon appear.

“yes! fine, i promise.” rafe points the camera down so you can see leon happily on his lap, already looking tired as bedtime is quickly approaching.

“why didn't you pick up the first time?” you ask, a lot calmer now that you have eyes on your baby.

“leon and i were just getting home. i took him to the park. he couldn't really do anything but be in the carrier but he liked watching the other kids play.” rafe looks down at leon, giving him a little tickle under the chin. “isn't that right buddy?”

“did you-”

“yes, i put sunscreen on him. and he wore a hat. and-” rafe stresses before you can interrupt. “i reapplied sunscreen after an hour.”

“you're the best.” you smile. “you know i never doubted you rafe, it's just-” you take a deep sigh. “i worry so much about him. and making sure he's happy.”

“and he is.” rafe assured you. “look at his little face.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you look at your husband and your son, snuggled together on the couch. you quickly take a screenshot while they both have smiles on their faces.

“you're such a good mama. leons lucky to have you, and so am i.”

the tears are now falling down your cheeks as you smile. “i love you.”

“i love you too. and we miss you, but go enjoy your night with the girls!”

“okay.” you nod. “you're right. ill be home tomorrow around noon.”

“got it.” rafe holds the camera closer to leon. “say bye bye to mommy, leon.”

the call ends with his smiling face looking back at yours.

sfw taglist: @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen

[luvyeni]

ANNIVERSARY ,, 박종성

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ boyfriend!jay x fem!reader wc. 1.4k+

genre. smut

𓄷 includes ... pool sex , unprotected sex , soft sex, fingering , breeding kink, daddy kink

request. can i request a smut fic with jay, like they spend a romantic time at a luxurious airbnb and they go to the jacuzzi at night with a glass of wineee 👀

「 authors note 𖹭 」 this was cute , i really like this.

❪ masterlist! ❫

dropping your bags at the front door; taking in the beautiful home with wide eyes, jay picking your bag that he got you for your anniversary, holding it in his hand as he followed behind you. “you like it princess?” you nodded, “like? i freaking love it.” you exclaimed. “oh my god how expensive was this airbnb?”

“don't worry about it baby; i told you as long as you're with me you'll never have to worry about the price of anything.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your lips. “plus it's our anniversary, you deserve everything you could ever dream of, okay?” you smiled, nodding. “good, now let's get settled, we have dinner reservations and i know how long you take to get all pretty for me.” his hands came down to your ass, giving it a little slap. “jay stop.” you giggled. “come on baby.”

“jay!” you shouted, trying to zip up your dress, groaning when you weren't successful. “jay come here!” the man entered the room, looking as handsome as ever in his black suit, his sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny arms. “yes baby?” he asked, taking in your outfit. “oh baby , this dress is stunning.” you pouted. “why is my princess sad on our anniversary?”

“my dress, i need you to zip me up.” he stepped behind you, his hands touching your back. “i got you baby, don't be sad.” he slowly zipped the dress up. “this dress is sexy baby.” he whispered in your ear. “i think we have enough time.” he kissed your bare shoulder. “no we don't.” you scolded. “we both know quickies aren't enough for you.” he chuckled, turning you around to kiss your lips but you hold his chest. “what now?” he questioned, eyebrow raised. “my lip gloss.” he scoffed. “fine, when you want a kiss I'm gonna hold it from you.” shaking your head at his childish antics. “like you could do that, let's go before we miss the reservation.”

you guys have an amazing dinner; filled with good food, laughter; and a whole bunch of love— and jay teasing you under the table, his hand slipping through the slit of your dress to rub your thigh, dangerously close to your ass, but he just pulled away leaving you wanting more.

you guys make your way home; the atmosphere still full of love, neither one of you wanted to call it a night. “how about we get in the jacuzzi?” jay said. “have some wine, and enjoy the rest of the night?” he held your heels in his hand, you nodded. “i’ll go change into my bathing suit.”

you took off your makeup from the night, putting your bathing suit on; the one jay loves so much, putting your hair back before making your way out the jacuzzi where jay was lighting scented candles, two glasses of your wine already sitting on the side. “you didn't have to do all this.”

he turned around, eyes darken as he took in the sight of you in that bikini he loves so much. “you like?” he smirked, nodding. “i fucking love baby.” he bit his lip. “let's get in.” you sat down on the side, slowly getting into the pool, sighing as the warm water hit your skin. “feel good baby?” jay got in, floating towards you, holding you in his arms. “it feels really good.”

he handed you the glass of wine, massaging your wet skin. “good.” he whispered in your ear. “i want you to just relax.” he kissed your neck, you sighed taking a sip of his drink. “let me take care of everything.” his kisses made your stomach erupt in flames, he kissed your shoulders. “j-jay.”

you couldn't take it anymore, between him teasing you in the restaurant and his burning kisses, you had reached your limit and he could tell. “you know if you want something baby then you have to ask for it.” you felt his hands toying with your bikini string, you whimpered. “what is it baby?”

“please touch me.” he untied the string of the top, pushing it off your shoulders, letting it float on the water, he turned you around; gently pushing you against the edge of the pool, running his thumb along you hardening nipples. “such pretty tits princess.” he brought his lips to your perky nipples, engulfing his mouth around them, sucking softly on your buds. “oh fuck jay keep doing that please.” you ran your manicured fingers through your boyfriend's hair.

he suck on your nipples, switching back and forth between your boobs, his hands slipping under the water to unite the strings of your bottoms, lifting you up wrapping your legs around his waist. “ja-jay i need more.” he finally pulled away from your now sensitive boobs. “what do you need baby?”

“please touch me.” he hummed. “touch you where baby?” you whined, he grabbed your cheeks. “don't get bratty now baby, where do you want me to touch you?” you took his hand, guiding down into the water, to your cunt. “here.” he cursed, biting his lip. “you want me to touch this pretty pussy?” he ran his thumb down your slip. “yes.” you moaned.

“good girl.” he pushed his fingers inside of you. “fuck you're so tight.” he grunted. “such a pretty pussy, love it so much.” he kissed your lips. “jay please fuck me.” you moaned, he smirked. “you want me to fuck you baby? make you cum all over my cock?” you nodded. “words baby.” he added another finger. “yes jay, please fuck me.”

“fuck princess, cum in my fingers first.” he added another finger, using his thumb to rub figure 8s on your clit. “cum for me.” he felt your legs twitching as you came. “good girl, cum all over daddy's fingers.”

both your bottoms and top left abandoned, floating in the water, jay finally letting his hard cock out of his trunks, your hand snuck into the water, grabbing his length stroking it up and down. “fu-fuck baby , keep doing that.” he moaned , leaving little marks on your chest and neck. “keep stroking daddy's cock, mmm fuck gonna stuff you full of his cock.” he cursed. “jay.” you moaned, guiding his cock to your entrance. “please fuck me.”

he slipped the tip of his cock into your hole, both of you moaning as he slowly filled you up. “that's it baby.” he moaned. “be a good girl and let daddy fill you up.” the water moving back and forth as he fully seethed himself inside you, pulling out; slamming back inside you. “oh fuck jay!”

the water splashing back and as he fucked you; luckily the houses were further away from each other so no one could hear you screaming for him to fuck you harder , or deeper. “fuck jay im gonna cum again!” he cursed, biting your shoulder. “cum , cum all over my cock.” he groaned as your cunt fluttered around his cock , your arms wrapping around his neck , he held you close as you came. “good girl, you can give me one more right?”

pulling himself out; he flipped you around; your top half exposed to the nighttime air, pressing against you, his cock rubbing against your folds, he pushed himself back inside you, holding your waist before plunging himself fully inside you. “fuck baby , fucking love you so much.” he grunted , grabbed any part of you that he could, your ass bouncing against his pelvis. “gonna give you a baby.” you moaned out , cunt gripping his cock like a vice.

“you like that?” he slapped your ass the stinging from the water made you scream. “fuck you full of my cum, give you a pretty baby.” he hissed. “you'd make such -fuck- such a pretty mommy.” you nodded dumbly. “please , fuck please.” he pulled you up and flush again his chest. “jay im gonna cum.” you moaned, he bit your neck. “cum baby , cream daddy's cock.”

you gasped out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came , he fucked up into you vigorously, using you to get himself off. “fuck im cumming.” he cursed. “shit.” he came, holding you close. “i love you much baby.” he pulled himself out of you , lifting you up, holding you in his arms. “I love you too jay.”

he kissed your lips, before holding your legs getting out the pool, you yelped. “don't drop me.” you laughed. “i won't baby I won't.” he held you, making his way into the house. “let's go to bed.” he smirked.

“we have two more days here and im gonna make sure you leave here with my child.”

©LUVYENI

[eternally-racing]

kiss it better | lance stroll

pairing: lance stroll x reader 

genre: fluff, smut  (minors DNI)

warning: oral sex (m! receiving)

wc: 1.3k 

summary: When you’re taking care of Lance after his biking injuries there’s a special place where he really wants you to kiss it better. 

author’s note: yes, this is 100% inspired from me watching DTS and Lance’s scene with Lando LOL

- - - 

The last 2 weeks had been an insane rollercoaster for you and Lance. What had started off as a fun experience biking with friends in Spain had turned into a nightmare as you and Lance spent the rest of your trip in the hospital.

You had been Lance’s angel throughout all of the recovery from his wrist injuries. Never before had either of you really thought about how much you do with your hands and feet, until you realized that it meant that Lance couldn't really do anything until the doctors had determined that he was recovered enough. “It would take more than a lifetime for me to repay you for this, baby” Lance always says as you help him out around the house. You truly didn’t mind it - doing the laundry, the grocery shopping, the cooking, the cleaning. “We do it for the people we love” you would always say. It’s because you knew that if the tables were turned that Lance would do the exact same for you, taking care of you 24/7 until you felt better. 

Your generosity is what makes Lance feel especially guilty. In the last 2 weeks he had been nothing more than a couch potato while you seemed to balance ten thousand responsibilities. You were already doing so much for him, how could you possibly ask for more? But you were walking around the house in the tiniest little shorts and a bralette that really felt like it barely counted as actually covering your chest. Lance definitely wasn’t complaining but looking at you was weakening his resolve with every passing day. Today you had taken to putting away the laundry, and with every time you bent over he could feel his boxers start to tighten. It was getting unbearable really, and the horniness in Lance’s brain was making it short circuit. 

“Y/N baby, can I get your help with something?” 

It feels like you’re there at his bedside before he can even blink. Your doe eyes are looking at him in a way that makes him want to give you the whole universe and it’s enough to make Lance want to bail on his request.

“No, actually I changed my mind I don't need - “ 

“Baby, please - I’m here to help you. What do you need?” You perch yourself on the edge of his bed, busying yourself but organizing some things on the nightstand. Lance’s cheeks are bright red but now he can barely look you in the eye. 

“It’s just been a really long time since I… yknow.” Lance glances down only slightly but it’s enough to give you an idea of what’s going on. 

“Oh?” 

“Oh.” 

“Well, I think there’s something that I could do about that.” you smirk slightly. 

Your hand slowly creeps towards where you know his cock lies under the bedsheets, and you gasp when you feel how hard it already is in your hands. You lean further down, laying your head so close, but still so far from where Lance wants you to be.

“No teasing baby” he mutters as he has to resist running a hand through your hair himself. The casts covering both his hands serve as a stark reminder of why he can’t do so even though he so badly wants to. You’re placing soft little kisses over top of the blanket, leaving the layers between you two as you creep closer towards his hardened length.

“I’m surprised I didn’t think of this before honestly. Like what were you going to do - suck your dick yourself?” 

You have your hands laid across Lance’s thighs and you feel them clench at the statement, which makes your jaw drop in response.  

“Oh my god, you’ve totally tried to suck your own dick before. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard of. If I wasn’t so horny right now I would make you tell me the story right now, but I definitely want to hear all about this later.” you laugh while still continuing your ministrations. 

Your monologue gets a little long and Lance throws his head back and whines. When you pull back the covers and his boxers, Lance’s cock is the hardest you’ve ever seen it - the precum that sneaks out of the head only adds to your arousal as you lick your lips in anticipation . When you run your fingers over it gently it’s enough to make the Canadian boy shudder. You take your time as you kiss up and down the inside of his thighs, running your tongue over everywhere except where he needs you most.

“Please Y/N - I’ll beg, I’ll do anything. I’m just a guy who hasn’t cum in over 2 weeks and has the most beautiful girl in the world on his knees in front of him - I might just cum the minute you touch me.” 

It’s music to your ears when you hear Lance moan as you lower your mouth onto his cock. You know his body so well that you know exactly what to do to have him seeing stars. His cock is hitting the back of your throat already and Lance can’t help the way his hips buck his cock further into you. Your hands come around to cover up the part of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth, working in tandem to make sure that you’re covering every single inch. 

“You’re taking me so well princess, feels so fucking good.” Lance is filled with nothing but praise for you as your head bobs up and down on his length. 

You’re gasping for air as you finally lift your head off Lance’s dick. You take it in your hands and slap your cheek a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of it against your skin. It’s when you reach to cup his balls in your hand that Lance truly feels like he’s in heaven, and he says exactly that. Even in your hands they feel full, so full of cum, and you can’t help but let out a moan yourself at the feeling. You give them each the attention they deserve before Lance begs for you to go back to his cock. 

You can feel Lance’s hips start to stutter underneath you as he starts to lose control. 

“Oh god Y/N I’m gonna cum, fucking hell.” Lance tries to lift your mouth off of him, telling you that he’ll cum wherever you’d like. There was no surprise that Lance was a tits man through and through and loved seeing thick ropes of his cum over your breasts. Sometimes you’d want it on your face, sticking your tongue out the catch as much cum as you can. But today you kept your head down, ignoring Lance’s warnings as you kept your nose buried firmly towards his pubic bone. 

“Princess I’m really gonna - fuck, fuck, fuck” Lance keeps chanting your name as he cums. 

There’s so much cum that you can’t keep it all in your mouth. It drips out of the corner of your mouth and down your chin which looks absolutely sinful. Lance wishes he could take a real photo but instead resolves to committing it to memory himself. As if that wasn’t enough, Lance moans watches you swallow, proudly showing off your clean tongue to him after the fact. 

“Have I ever told you that you’re the most amazing girl in the entire world?” Lance says as he pulls you into a kiss.

“Maybe a couple times, but I could hear it again.” Even though Lance is always a charmer, his words still make you blush every time. 

“How about I show you instead?” Lance gets you to lay on your back, switch your positions as he starts to nestle his face in between your thighs. 

“Wait baby, I don’t want to hurt you - you’re still recovering.” The worry is evident in your voice as you stop him from diving in further. 

“My wrists may be broken but my tongue works just fine, princess.” Lance says as he uses his teeth to pull down your panties. 

— – – – —

author’s note: that scene in dts was so iconic that i just had to capture it in a fic! hope u all enjoyed it :) Until next time! - Em 🩷

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

~

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

~

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

[froggiewrites]

Follow Through

Pairing: Ace x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Portgas D. Ace may be a flirt, but he doesn't think he deserves more than that. You try to prove him wrong. Warnings: Smut, Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 5.8k Crossposted from Ao3

His hands are warm.

That was your first thought when you met Fire Fist Ace. You quickly learned that the rest of him was warm, too, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, from his beautiful smile to the depths of his heart. But the hands were first, calloused yet gentle, holding yours for a handshake and welcoming you aboard. You were reluctant to let go of them, barely able to muster enough willpower to pry yourself away. They were comforting, but enough to engulf your own but barely gripping, ensuring he didn’t cause you any discomfort.

The second thing you noticed was his smile, boyish and bright, and the way it made your heart flutter. There was something terribly honest about it, in a way that not many men let themselves be. He never held himself back in his joy, always busting into a wide smile and a laugh that made his whole body shake. You can’t even remember the joke you made to make him react in such a way, but you do remember your own smile falling as you just stared in awe at him. He was beautiful in a way that felt so very alive.

You couldn’t hide your feelings for him then, and you certainly can’t do it now. You’ve been with the Whitebeard Pirates for nearly six months, long enough to truly embrace your new family and friends. And they’ve wholly embraced you too, giving your life a meaning you had never had before. It felt so right to finally have a place in life, and people who accept you for who you really are. But with acceptance comes familiarity, with familiarity comes comfort, and with comfort comes the constant needling teasing that only comes from someone who truly loves you.

“Staring again? It’s getting a little sad at this point, honestly.” Thatch’s words may have a little edge to them, but his tone is light and teasing, without a hint of malice. He’s been kind to you, as he is to everyone, so you don’t take it too personally.

“Yeah, so I keep hearing.” Your eyes are still on Ace, laughing with his head thrown back without a care in the world. He’s so handsome like this, shining in the sun and absolutely bursting with joy. He’s always like this at banquets, stuffing himself full and laughing like he’s never known sorrow. He always draws your eye, but especially in moments like this. He’s surrounded by people all smiling just as widely as he is; he tends to have that effect on people.

Thatch laughs a little. “And you don’t plan on doing anything about that?”

“Not really.” The idea of it makes your chest seize. It’s terrifying, to imagine change, and even worse to imagine how it all could go wrong. As much as you’d like to, you can’t imagine any response to your confession but rejection. Some kind, some less so, but you never imagine a yes. How could you? How could such a man want you? Want anything less than the perfection he deserves?

Thatch sighs. “You both are a nightmare to deal with, do you know that?”

You finally let your eyes leave Ace to look at Thatch with confusion. “What do you mean?”

He sighs again, significantly more dramatically than the first time. “Nothing. Just…I think you should tell him, ‘s all. Nothing will change if you don’t.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“To never know if your feelings are reciprocated? Yeah, sounds pretty bad.”

“No, but–You don’t get it. Yeah, I won’t know. But I’ll get to stay by his side. I’ll get to stay his friend, his confidant. Can’t that be enough?” You don’t want to get greedy. You don’t want to demand more than you’ve earned.

“Maybe it could, I guess. But why should you settle for ‘enough’ instead of reaching for happiness?” You hate it when he makes a good point.

“Enough doesn’t hurt.”

“Neither does more than enough.” He pats your shoulder soothingly. “And a little hurt is worth it in the end. You’re stuck in limbo, right now. But if you say something? Well, who knows where that might lead.”

You had resigned yourself to limbo, back when you first saw his beautiful smile and known you were smitten. You weren’t used to getting what you wanted. But oh, to imagine a life where you did. To imagine a world where he knew your feelings and you knew he felt the same. Where you were able to see that beautiful face first thing every morning, and last thing every night. What a life that would be. You would never want for anything again. “...Maybe I could say something. Someday.”

“Maybe someday soon.” He pats your shoulder again before walking away, probably back to the kitchen to make up for the dent Ace made in the food for the feast.

Someday soon, huh? You try to imagine it. A day where you look him in the eye and tell him how deeply you care about it. You couldn’t open with telling him you love him, of course. Didn’t want to scare him away. And you couldn’t say you liked him like some teenage girl with a crush. You wanted him to know it was deeper than that, a feeling that ran to your bones, to your soul. How could you say it?

Your eyes flicked back to him, and they met his. He was grinning at you, toothy and wide, like he always did. And you returned it, like you always did. A moment you had lived a thousand times, and hoped to live a thousand more. It always made you feel so warm and fuzzy, soft at the edges. You could just melt, looking at him like this. You could fade into nothingness and not feel a moment of regret if you just got to see that smile one last time.

He waves you over, and your feet begin to move, helpless to his whims. Before you know it, you’re sitting directly next to him, his arm slung around your shoulder as he excitedly regales you with a tale of his latest adventure. Your shoulder is pressed into his chest and you try not to pay attention to how hard and strong it feels against you. His warmth radiates through your shirt, and you feel it slowly moving through your body, melting you further into him. It takes all of your concentration not to lean your head into his chest and make a home there.

“Hey, are you listening?” The arm around you jostles you a bit, bringing you back to earth. 

“Oh, I–um–”

“I know it must be distracting being so close to someone this hot, but really, you gotta keep it together.” His tone is light, and his smile full of mischief. He pulls you a little closer, and speaks quieter against your ear. “I’m trying to impress you, y’know. It doesn’t really work if you don’t listen to how cool I am.”

Your face flushes, and you scramble for a response that doesn’t show how flustered you are. “Oh, is that what you think you are? Cool?”

You can feel him smirk against your ear. “Well I guess it’d be better to call myself hot.” He blows on your ear and you shoot up, hand pressing against the side of your face as you desperately try to cover the red seeking its way up your neck. He laughs good naturedly, and puts his hands up in some form of surrender.

You skitter off, throwing yourself into the throng of people, trying to catch your breath. He teases you often, hands reaching just a little closer than appropriate to certain places where his eyes like to linger, words just a touch beyond friendly. But it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.

But could it?

Maybe someday soon echoes in your head.

Maybe someday could be today. Maybe you could say something. You could be brave. His bravery is one of the things you admire most about him. You could try to imitate that, in some small way. After calming down, you seek him out, like a moth to a flame, and pull him aside. “Can I talk to you later? Once everything calms down a bit?”

He regards you with a good natured concern. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just need to talk to you. Nothing’s wrong or anything.”

He smiles at you fondly, though you could swear you see something in it—some sort of nervousness, unsteadiness you aren’t used to seeing in Ace. “Well, good. Yeah, we can talk later. Party’s winding down now, so we can probably sneak off soon.”

“Good. See you soon, then.” You skitter off before you lose your nerve, not seeing the way his eyes follow you across the room.

Soon turns out to be over an hour later, once half the crew has passed out drunk and the other half has dragged the first half back to their beds. You meet Ace on the deck, in the cool ocean air, and admire the way he seems to shine in what little light there is. He smiles at you, and the moon seems dim in comparison.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet and deep, and it plunges right through you.

“Hey.” You twitch nervously, hands fidgeting and eyes focused anywhere but him. “I…Sorry, I’ve been rehearsing this in my head over and over and I forgot everything I was going to say the moment I saw your face.”

You expect a reassuring smile, one that he usually gives freely when you’re nervous, but his mouth remains flat. “It’s alright, take your time.” The words are right, but the tone is wrong.

You persevere. “You’re…really special. To me.”

“Is that so?” He leans against the railing of the ship, hair blowing in the breeze, moonlight dancing in the dark strands. His energy has gone strange, unfamiliar in a way you have never known him to be.

“I really care about you, Ace.”

He isn’t looking at you. His eyes are to the sea, staring into the horizon, a million miles away. They’re devoid of their usual warmth, you realize. There is no mischievous twinkle, no crinkle at the edges indicating a smile.

“You shouldn’t.” His voice is soft, but not tender. It’s filled with resignation, with shame, with a deep seated self-loathing that startles you so badly you almost flinch.

You realize the downside of this beautiful, burning flame: he cannot see himself. He cannot see his own brilliance past the light in his eyes. He thinks himself weak and small and ugly, and you have no way to show him how wrong he is. He carries this burden silently, as he does all his burdens, because he thinks he has to. Because he thinks his only use is as a candle burning itself down to keep the rest of the world in the light.

You take his hand in yours. He jumps a little at the contact, and he looks at you with confusion, like he can’t figure out why you’re still here, why you haven’t already run from him. “But I do. And I don’t think anyone gets to decide how I should feel except for me.” You start to slowly rub your thumb over the back of his hand, and he looks at you with such a horribly lost look it makes you want to weep.

“I don’t–” Ace tries to keep his voice from cracking, choking down any sound that gives away the weakness he is so desperate to hide. “I don’t understand why you would want me.” Why anyone would want me remains unsaid, but it hangs in the air between you nonetheless. He takes in a ragged breath, still holding back tears, and the hand that isn’t holding his cautiously makes its way to his cheek, gently tracing over his freckles.

“Ace, I can say with complete and total honesty that I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t. You’re the most wonderful, kind, and passionate man I’ve ever met, and from the first moment I saw you I knew that you were going to be important to me, even if I didn’t know how. You’re strong, brilliant, fiercely loyal, fun—You’re just…warm. Like the sun. Like surfacing out of cold water on a summer day and feeling the sunlight on your face. Like napping outside and feeling it wash over you and gently pull you back to sleep. Like seeing the first ray after a storm and knowing everything is going to be okay, even if you don’t know when.” You trail off, a bit embarrassed at going on for so long with no response, but when you see how he’s looking at you, your breath catches in your throat. He’s so vulnerable, so open, and looking at you with the sense of awe and wonder you once thought exclusive to gods and angels and Ace himself. The warmth is slowly making its way back into his eyes, softening his face and making him look younger. His mouth is slightly open, lips parted as though he was about to speak but couldn’t choose between a confession of love or a prayer.

“You–you really mean that.” His voice is little more than a whisper. It isn’t a question, just a simple statement of disbelief. “You really feel that way about me.”

“I do. And all of that still isn’t enough to really describe it. You’re…everything, Ace. Everything good and kind in this world, and then some.” He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his face, his lack of understanding. He knows your words are sincere, that you mean everything you say, but he doesn’t understand that you’re just finally putting into words the unspoken truth of this world, the one that everyone who has ever met him understands instantly. It is one of the few things that you can rely on in this world, that you know will forever be true: the sun will rise in the morning, the world will keep spinning, and Ace will always be good.

“You’re wrong, you know. I can't–I’m not anything special. I’m not even anything decent. Every good part of me is borrowed from someone else. I’m stubborn, and angry, and–”

“So?”

He blinks. “What?”

“I never said you were perfect, Ace. I never thought you were. You’re just wonderful. That doesn’t make you flawless. It doesn’t make you inhuman. And all of the best parts of you are all you, Ace. You’re just too close to see it.” You try to let go of his hand so you can fully clasp his face, cradle him like he deserves, but he grips it tightly, pulling it to his chest. He’s frightened to let you go, like the moment your hand leaves his you’ll disappear, slipping through his fingers like so much else has.

“I don’t believe you.” His voice is soft, without much fight in it.

“I know. I wish you did, but that’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as I have to. I will spend every day for the rest of my life telling you, if you let me.”

“That sounds like a proposal.” There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, just a small amount of his humor leaking through. There was a question in it as well, a quiet could it be? One day, when I believe you, could it be?

“Maybe it could be, someday. But I don’t want to skip any steps. I want to remember each and every little minute I have with you, every moment, no matter how small. If you let me, of course.”

You weren’t expecting him to kiss you. You weren’t expecting his lips to brush against yours so softly you almost didn’t feel them at all. You weren’t expecting the press to continue until you can feel every inch of them, chapped and cracked, against your own. The hand not holding yours rests on your cheek, pulling you closer and taking your breath away. You had imagined your first kiss with Ace many times, most of them as fiery as the man himself. But you had never pictured such tenderness, such care. He holds you like you’ll crumble beneath his fingers. The gentleness of it makes your chest ache, and you feel like maybe you really will shatter under his touch.

Even when your lips part, you stay close, breath mingling and foreheads pressed together. You open your eyes to stare directly into his, and the pure adoration in them brings tears to your eyes. The only thing you can see are his shining, beautiful eyes and the freckles dotting his cheeks, and you don’t know if you ever want to see anything else again. It’s every beautiful sight you’ve ever seen reflected back at you in a single image, in a single tight frame, and if you died right now you could rest easy knowing that you truly had seen all of the beauty and glory and grace this world had to offer.

“I would let you.” His voice is barely a whisper. “I would give you everything I had. I would let you take anything from me.”

“I’d rather share it, I think.”

He closed his eyes at that, basking in the idea, imagining a life for two. A life worth living, perhaps. “I think I’d like that.” His smile grows wider, though you cannot see it as he lifts his head and drags you forward into his chest. He presses your ear against his heart, and you can hear its beating, quick and growing quicker. He rests his chin on the top of your head, and lets out another whisper. “That’s for you. Always has been.”

You sit like that for what feels like hours, intertwined and listening to Ace’s heart. It calms to a steady beat, and soon after that he slides you down onto the deck so he can lean against the railing of the ship. You’re unsurprised when you hear snoring shortly after. His arms around you don’t loosen at all in his sleep, holding you tightly like you’ll be gone when he awakes if he even thinks about letting go. The weight should be suffocating, but instead it’s soothing, warm and heavy in the same way as a thick comforter.

When he awakens, you ask him a quiet question that has been nagging at your heart. “Ace, why did you hit on me so much? Why were you so kind to me, if you didn’t want me to care about you like this?”

When he talks you can feel it rumble through his chest. “I never said I didn’t want it. I wanted it more than anything. I couldn’t stop myself from getting closer, even when I knew I didn’t deserve it. I kept telling myself that it was fine, because you didn’t want me anyway.” He laughs a little. “Clearly I was wrong.”

You turn around in his arms to face him, your noses brushing together. “I don’t think there’s a world where I don’t fall for you, Ace. I think I’d always want you, in any way I could have you.”

“In any way?” His voice takes on a tone you’re a bit more familiar with, but even underneath the flirtatiousness there’s a vulnerability beneath it, like he’s still checking, testing if this is solid ground that won’t fall out beneath his feet.

“In any way, Ace. Any way you’d let me.” You kiss the tip of his nose, keeping it light, allowing him to make the choice here. He can pull out if he wants, pull away, and you will take whatever step he wants.

He responds by pinning you to the deck.

You let out a soft squeak, and at the sound his eyes darken a bit, though he’s still clearly holding himself back. You can see the question in his face: Is this alright? Do you want this?

You kiss him hard, and he finds his answers in your lips.

His hands are everywhere, spreading their warmth, and you feel like there’s a fire spreading in your blood. You can feel the tips of his fingers digging into you through your clothes: your hips, your breasts, your thighs. It feels like he’s everywhere, and you can barely keep up. Your own hands brush against his chest, and you cannot seem to pull them away when you hear what might be a soft whimper against your lips when your fingers make contact with his nipple.

You tweak them lightly, and he pulls back as he makes another sweet keen. “Not fair, sweetheart. You can feel so much of me, but you’re so covered up.”

“Not my fault you don’t own any shirts, Ace.” 

He laughs a little, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt. “May I?”

“Oh, ever the gentleman. You may.” He removes your shirt slowly, seeming to drink in every inch of skin being revealed. His fingers finally lightly brush against your bare skin, and you burn so hot you think there will be nothing left of you when this is done. When your shirt is gone, he stops all movement for a moment, just staring at you in the moonlight. His gaze bores into you, eyes filled with a mix of lust and affection that makes your stomach flutter. He adores you. He wants you. He needs you.

“God, you’re so…perfect.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You’re really here. This is really happening.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You’re even better than I imagined, and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” He reaches back to unhook your bra, and sucks in another breath at the sight of your bare breasts. “God, I’ve never wanted anyone more.”

Before you can respond, tell him that you feel the same desperate pull toward him, his mouth is on your chest, and you let out a moan. You can feel his teeth lightly drag across your sensitive skin before his tongue reaches your nipple, his hand reaching up to roll the other between his fingers. He rolls his hips lightly against you, and you let out an even louder cry before he lifts his mouth.

“Not too loud, sweetheart. Don’t want to risk anyone hearing.”

“It—ah!—It’s probably a bit late to start worrying about that considering where we are.”

He pauses, as though he just now realized you’re entirely out in the open on the deck. He considers for a moment, before calmly picking up your shirt and bra, stuffing them haphazardly into his pocket, and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Ah! Ace!”

“You don’t need to start crying my name quite yet,” he laughs. “I don’t want anyone else to see you. I’d like to keep this sight to myself.” His hand rubs against your thigh as he says it, but the gesture strangely feels more fond and affectionate than it does lustful. He carries you to his room quickly, stumbling over bottles or other pieces of evidence from the earlier banquet but somehow ensuring you’re never jostled. He doesn’t put you down even as he locks the door behind you, even as he kicks on his heavy boots and slips off your own shoes. Only after this does he flip you gently onto the bed, pressing you lightly against the mattress and ghosting his lips against your own. “Are you ready for the main event, sunshine?”

“I’ve been dreaming of it since the day we met.” You’re breathless at your admission, but you have to let him know.

“Oh, me too. But we’re about to blow all those dreams out of the water.” His smile now is one you’re familiar with, a cocky boyish grin that fits him perfectly. “I’ll start.”

With that, his hands slip below the waist of your pants, and they slide you out of them with ease. As soon as your thighs are exposed, he’s on them, kissing you tenderly before nipping hard enough to leave marks. You know tomorrow the evidence of this will be there, something that proves what you and Ace have here together. You can’t help but be pleased this will be more than just a memory.

He makes his way up your thighs slowly, teasingly, before you feel his breath against your panties. Even before he’s made contact he’s breathing hard, chest heaving like he’s physically holding himself back. His nose makes contact and you whine, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. He licks a strip up the fabric, and he groans at the wetness seeping through. His voice is thick with want as he quietly murmurs, “Fuck.”

His hands rip your panties down before diving in. You can feel his tongue as he savors your taste, making absolutely shameless slurping noises echoing through the room. You keen sweetly, and he moans into you, hips rutting into the mattress. His lips and tongue find your clit as one of his hands leaves your thigh and one of his fingers enters you. He works it slowly, teasingly, before adding another and curling them, finding a spot that makes you whimper.

When he hits a particular sweet spot with his fingers while his tongue circles your clit you can’t help but reach a hand down to grab his hair, which makes him groan even louder, a deep sound that rumbles through his chest. At the same time his hips slam hard into the mattress, and the hand still on your thighs grips tight enough to bruise. It instantly loosens, his fingers moving gently across the spot as if apologizing. His fingers inside you start pumping faster, his tongue maintaining a steady pace, and you can’t help but scream “Ace!” as you cum onto his face.

He works you through your orgasm, fingers and tongue still moving until your thighs stop twitching. When he pulls back, you can see his face is covered in your slick, from the bridge of his nose to his chin. He pulls his fingers slowly out of you before making eye contact with you and sticking them in his mouth, sucking on them without looking away from you. When he’s done, he pops them out of his mouth and runs his fingertips against his freckles, collecting more, only to bring his hand down to you. You open your mouth without thinking, and the pads of his fingers are pressed against your tongue as you can taste yourself.

“Best meal I’ve ever had,” he mutters with a cheeky smile, before taking his fingers back and leaning in to kiss you.

“Do I get one too?” You ask it quietly, eyeing the belt buckle hiding him away from you.

He chuckles. “As much as I’d love to indulge you, I think if I don’t fuck you right now I’m gonna go insane.”

With that, he reaches a hand to his belt, unceremoniously throwing it across the room and wincing when you both hear a loud crash. He quickly recovers, sliding off his pants and boxers and setting them gently on the floor next to the bed. “Just in case,” he mutters, and you giggle.

Your eyes take in his cock, as big and beautiful as you’d imagined it, and you can’t help but let out a quiet noise of appreciation. “Like what you see?” He asks cockily, but you can see a blush working its way over his cheeks, painting him a gorgeous shade of red.

“It’s just as beautiful as the rest of you.”

“Beautiful? Not handsome? Not hot?”

“Beautiful, handsome, hot, pretty, gorgeous, all of it. They all apply.”

“Is that so? I think some of those are better applied to you, pretty girl.” He leans down to capture your lips, one hand reaching down to align himself with your entrance. He slowly rolls his hips forward, sliding in at a torturously slow pace, as you moan into his mouth. When your hips make contact you feel so stretched you might burst. He reaches both hands up and intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing you firmly but lovingly into the sheets.

His lips leave yours. “You ready for me to move, princess?”

“God, yes, please.”

He slides back slowly, before starting a steady pace hammering into you. He stares at your face, soaking in your expressions, before starting his work marking every inch of your neck as his. You cry out whenever he finds a particularly sensitive spot, and he always notices, nipping and sucking harder.

It all feels delicious, but it just isn’t enough. You buck your hips up into him, whining, “Harder, Ace, please!” You feel him smile against your neck before he pounds into you so hard you begin to see stars. You feel a coil building in your gut, tighter and tighter as you feel every bit of Ace’s warmth seeping into you, taking you over, making you his. You squeeze your eyes shut, face twisting, as you feel the edge get closer and closer.

Ace finishes his ceaseless attack on your neck, and you can feel his breath against your lips. “Want—ah—want to see your face as you cum. Want to look in your eyes. Ah—please open your eyes, sweetheart.” How could you deny such a heartfelt request? You open your eyes to see him looking at you with pure awe, like he still can’t quite believe this is happening. He looks at you like you’re a miracle, an angel, any and everything holy in this world.

With one final roll of his hips, you’re pushed over the edge, tightening around him and crying out, and you only just barely manage to keep your eyes on his as you lose yourself in your pleasure. He finds his own end just after you, and you can feel warmth as he spills into you. His hands tighten on yours, grounding you both, and as your orgasms both come to an end his head falls into your neck.

You sit in the moment for a few minutes, catching your breath, reluctant to part. Ace moves first, slowly pulling out of you, hissing from the overstimulation. He does not, however, let go of your hands. He simply pulls out before falling back on top of you, nose pressed in the crook of your neck.

You kiss the top of his head. “Ace, I think we probably need to clean up.”

“Probably,” he mutters, just barely awake. He nuzzles deeper into you.

“Ace, once we clean up we can both go to sleep.”

He looks up at you with wide, pleading eyes. “We could also go to sleep now.” The dim moonlight coming in through the window reflects on his face, making him look positively angelic.

You sigh. “We could…at least let go of my hands so I can hold you.”

He gives you a heart-stopping grin as he lets go of your hands and flips you so you’re laying on his chest. You wrap your arms around him, and he wraps his own even tighter around you. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

“I always seem to.”

He kisses the top of your head tenderly as his hands rub gentle circles onto your back. His expression is peaceful, but you can see a cloud of worry briefly pass over him. “Do you promise to still be here when I wake up?”

“I promise,” you say quietly. “You couldn’t get rid of me now even if you wanted to.”

“Good,” he mutters quietly. “I–” his words catch in his throat, but you know what he means. You can feel it in his touch, see it in his face.

“I know, Ace. I do, too.” You could say the words now, they could burst out of your chest at any moment, but you pull them back. You should say them together.

“I really care about you,” he murmurs.

“I really care about you, too.”

His snoring starts soon after, and as loud as it is you can’t help but be lulled to sleep by the sound.

[judes-hoe]

Summer lovin’ ~ JB5

Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary ~ Jude takes you with him to LA for summer before the season starts but he can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

Warnings ~ p in v(unprotected), body worshiping, hickeys, boob play, manhandling into diff positions, bulge kink, size kink.

A/N ~ yeahhh change of plans…this came out later than expected but that’s okay! Jude series should come this week!!

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Jude had taken you to LA with his friends Trent, Toby, and Trent’s brother Marcel. You both did your respective things you wanted to do during your time there. After your late nights out and you were back at the house is when you’d spend your time together.

Jude is loosing his shits, he needs to touch you, he needs you. He’s hot and bothered. He couldn’t leave the club any faster than he already was. Coming straight back to the house you’re staying in while you have the time alone.

Trent, Toby, and Marcel stayed back at the club while Jude just needed you. You’ve noticed the last couple days that Jude has gotten pretty handsy. But you’ve told him no, why, because you knew it would lead to something and then be embarrassed cause his friends heard.

But not tonight, tonight Jude is having you and he doesn’t care if all of La hears it. It’s 11:30pm when he gets back to the house. Slamming the front door and taking his shoes off running up the stairs to the bedroom you were sharing.

You just gotten in bed not long again and you see Jude burst through the door and close it behind him. “Holy shit baby I need you so bad.” He said pulling his shirt off. He crawls on the bed towards you and pulls you into a heated kiss. You pull away and look at him. “What about-“ you started but he interrupted you immediately. “They’rere still at the club don’t worry.”

He said it kissing down your neck and pulling your top off. When he seen you didn’t have a bra on he went ballistic and start sucking and needing your boobs leaving hickeys on your chest, neck, shoulders, and collar bone. Your were covered in purple marks.

Now Jude had you all needy and you pull your shorts off leaving you in your black laced underwear. He groaned at the sight and started kissing down your body slowly. He kissed your stomach and was worshiping your body, he then kissed over your underwear.

He brought his hand down and pulled his shorts off leaving him in boxers. One hand squeezed and needed your thigh while he kissed over your core through your underwear. His other hand was rubbing over his bulge. He then took his hand and pulled your underwear down and threw them somewhere.

He then kissed your bare pussy, licking a few stripes up and down and groaned. “Oh how I missed this sweet pussy baby.” He said and kissed back up your body while he took his boxers off. He jerked his cock off while rubbing his tip up and down your pussy. “Jude please.” Your said grabbing his shoulders.

Jude couldn’t resist anymore and just pushed his whole cock in you. Making you let out a moan and squeeze his shoulders. He took a minute, letting his body feel the relief of being inside you again after so many days. He grips your hips and start to move his hips in slow thrust.

It’s not long before your begging. “Jude faster…please!” You moan out, Jude doesn’t hold back anymore. Gripping your hips harder and speeding up his thrust, hitting the right spot inside you. He leans down kissing your neck, he puts his hand around your neck and just gives soft squeezes. “Fucking missed this baby, couldn’t take it any longer.” He throws his head back.

You letting out these moans and whimpers at his fast thrust. He then pulls out and flips you over so you’re on your stomach. He then pulls your hips up making your back arch. He then pushes his cock back inside and continues his fast and now harder thrust. “Oooh Jude, feels so good!” You moan into the sheep gripping them till your knuckles are white.

He reaches under you and presses right on your lower abdomen, feeling his thrust. “I know you feel that baby, just to big for you huh?” He said, the pushing on that spot making you come closer to your climax. “Jude Jude please!” You beg. “Come on baby cum for me.” He said moving his hand to rub your clit.

That sends you over the edge as you have an intense climax that has your legs shaking. Jude pulls out and cums on your back. After you both lay there for a few minutes he gets up and starts aftercare.

Grabbing a warm cloth and being gentle while cleaning you up. He helps but some clothes back on you while he slips a pair of boxers on. He then climb in bed and cuddles next to you. “I love you baby.” He said kissing your head. “I love you too.” You mange to say before falling asleep.

[lunitawrites]

Heavy Rain - a Joel Miller one shot

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: explicit

summary: It´s been raining for weeks when Joel finds you curled up on his couch.

warnings: reader struggles with mental health (please note that this is not based on any scientific diagnosis of a mental illness, it is coming from my experience struggling with my own mental health), crying, smut (PiV), heavy emotions

a/n: This is for @undercoverpena´s April Showers Challenge. You can find the rest of the works under the #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge tag.

word count: 850

The rain feels heavy on Joel's shoulders as he arrives home that evening. It's not unusual for the Texan spring to be this wet, but this time the rain stretches over weeks, painting the blue spring skies grey, soaking the dusty terrain until it turns into mud under his shoes.

His house is cold, almost feels damp as the walls soak up the never-ending rain. You are lying on his couch, only lit by the fluorescent light of the muted TV, displaying commercials, long forgotten by its audience.

He can hear your quiet sobs from across the room. He knows you noticed him, but you don´t turn, just pull your blanket tighter around your chin. He walks then, slow steps towards you, seemingly afraid that he might startle you if he moves faster.

You are silent now as the back of his knuckles brush on your cheeks. I know, he whispers into the darkness, not even sure if you can hear him.

He goes into the kitchen then, quietly closing the door behind him, when he is sure it won't bother you, he flicks on the lights. Half eaten cereal and a bottle of wine, only missing a glass from the burgundy liquid. Your journal lies open on the dinner table, its pages blank. He closes that first and then slowly and meticulously puts everything in order. He heats up soup from the freezer, puts on a kettle of water to boil.

When the kitchen is in order, he puts the soup and mint tea on a tray and returns to the living room. He places it on the coffee table in front of you. You open your eyes and give him the faintest of your smiles. A smile almost just to mask your lips trying to curl down, your eyes ready to cry. You sit up, the material of the blanket bunching around your waist, revealing the stained t-shirt you are wearing. You seem embarrassed for a moment when you notice and pull the blanket up to your chin again.

He offers you the soup then. He would feed you, but he is sure you would never let him do that. You take the bowl in your hands, lacing your fingers around it, enjoying the warmth radiating from the ceramic.

He leans back besides you, taking your calves and placing them over his lap, his hands drawing slow, mindless circles on your bare skin. Both of you stare at the muted TV in silence, none of you bothered enough to look for the remote to change the volume.

You put the bowl down as you finish and curl up again on the couch, removing your calves from Joel's lap. He can see tears in the corners of your eyes again, threatening to overflow and paint wet stripes on your cheeks. You swipe them away with the heel of your palms and squeeze your eyes shut. You hold your breath to keep yourself from crying.

Joel curls behind you, his whole body hugging yours. Breath, his mouth is on your ear, leaving a small kiss on the shell of your ear. So you do, let the air flow into your lungs. You keep it in for a few seconds and let it out slowly, feeling your tears escape your body the same time the air does.

You take his hand and press it against your chest, squeezing yourself impossibly close to him. The rain is still drip-drip-dripping on the windows, a monotonous sound that you cannot escape. I want it to end, you breathe and you both know you are not referring to the rain.

He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. You can feel his length hardening against the curve of your ass. He mumbles an apology and adjusts his position so that your bodies are no longer touching.

No, please, you push yourself back again, make love to me. The urge to have him inside you takes over your body. You push your underwear down, kick it off with your legs, and then reach behind to remove his jeans too. You hear his quiet hey, baby, stop; but your only answer is the squeaky pleas that are falling from your lips, landing straight at the bottom of his spine.

He takes his cock out, fully hard now, propping it to your entrance and entering you with one swift motion. You moan in unison at the feeling, his hands holding you close, splayed out on your stomach.

He fucks you then, no rush in his movements, peppering small kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders. He mewls quietly in your ear every time he fills you up. He does not stop until your body tenses around him, pleasure ripping through your tired body. When he comes, it is with a soft groan buried in your neck.

At least now I have something in me that I love, you whisper. The rain has stopped now, the only dripping sounds are his tears landing on the bare skin of your chest.

--

Thank you so much for reading!

[mawrmyy]

sugar 'n cream

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings:

18+ !!! minors dni please !!! smut, messy blowjobs, f!masturbation, tooth-rotting fluff, writing soft!husband!joel has become my brand at this point, pet names (angel, baby, perfect girl), lmk if i missed anything :)

You’ve fallen into a routine of waking up to the smell of brewing coffee every sunday morning.

Today is no different. Your eyelids flutter open gently, the burnt, earthy smell climbing upstairs to your bedroom. 

You linger in it, let yourself sink deeper into the white sheets as the scent envelops you, the familiarity of it feeling like a warm embrace. 

You can’t help but smile. You know he’s downstairs, probably pouring the dark coffee into two separate mugs; one for each of you. He knows exactly how you like your coffee, but he never gets it quite right. 

You love him for that. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your knuckles, you begin to get up, the sheets rustling and twisting beneath you as you do. The floor tiles are cool against your bare feet, jolting you further awake as you tiptoe downstairs, hand lightly grazing the railing.

He’s there— broad shoulders facing you, muscles moving beneath his shirt as he pours the last drops of coffee into one of two mugs on the counter. You see him eye the sugar, contemplating whether or not to attempt sweetening your drink just how you like it. It makes you smile. 

You decide to help him solve the dilemma, walking towards him. 

He’s so warm. You feel the heat he radiates before you even wrap your arms around his waist, pressing a sweet kiss between his shoulder blades before resting your forehead there. He hums, and the vibration of it sends shivers throughout your whole body, you’re sure you feel him in your bones. 

“Mornin’, Baby,” Joel says softly. You hum in acknowledgement, unmoving from your position against his body, whining in protest when he tries to change positions. He chuckles, gruff and hearty, and you give in, loosening your grip on him. He turns over in your arms as he leans his back against the counter, and you lean your chin on his chest, looking up at him. He’s smiling at you, and it’s so soft and sweet, you’re sure your heart is going to burst out of your chest. 

Joel ducks his head down and kisses you, one big hand coming up to cup your cheek. A content sigh leaves your throat, and you feel him smile against your lips as his thumb softly caresses your cheekbone. 

You miss the warmth of his mouth as soon as you break apart. You grumble, your head nestling against his chest, ear against his thrumming heart. 

“Wanted to wake you up with coffee in bed,” Joel says. “Been workin’ real hard this week, Baby. Thought you could use the extra sleep.” He’s right, of course. He always is. He knows you so well, your Joel, always attentive, listening to your constant rambling and ranting as he holds you close to him on the couch after every long day. He’s so sweet, so good to you. 

You lean up, kissing him once again, this time shorter and sweeter. 

“I love you,” You tell him, because it’s true. He smiles, tugging you a little bit closer to him. 

“Never know how much sugar to put in your coffee, Baby,” Joel tells you. You huff out a laugh, reluctantly pulling yourself away from his body to pull out a milk carton from the fridge. You feel Joel’s gaze on you, burning a hole through your head as you pour the milk into your coffee, the dark brown shade of it softening to a lighter, caramel-like color.  

Before you can reach for the drawer to pull out a spoon for the sugar, Joel’s handing you one. It’s a normal teaspoon, but it looks comically small in his large hand. You take it from him, mumbling a thank you, Baby as you sweeten your coffee. His hand, the one that was handing you a spoon a moment ago, falls to the small of your back, and you revel under his touch. The two of you take a sip of your coffee simultaneously, and you smile into the mug as both of you find the other’s eyes. 

__ __ __

Joel likes his coffee black, black, black. You don’t understand why someone would choose to drink something that tastes like charcoal and burnt shit out of their own free will, but right now, as you kiss him, your tongue against his, you think you might not mind the flavor. 

He’s got you pushed up against the counter, marble digging into your lower back as he trails open-mouthed kisses up and down the column of your throat. His hands rest on either side of your hips, thumbs drawing circles on your waist. You’re breathing him in, holding the back of his head in the palm of your hand as his mouth nips and licks at your throat, kissing every sliver of bare skin his lips can find. Lost in the moment, you let your mind go completely blank with nothing but Joel.

Your man.

Your big, strong, capable man, always so good to you, so selfless. You know for a fact that he’d give you the world— he’s just waiting for you to ask him to. 

Your body moves on instinct, sinking to your knees before you even realize what you’re doing. Worshiping Joel is muscle memory at this point. Your hands travel up and down the outsides of his thighs, the fabric of his jeans rough and dry against the palms of your hands. You had asked him once, who the hell wears Jeans on their day off? He’d just huffed out a laugh and kissed you sweetly, and that was the end of the conversation.

Your fingers work at his belt, shakily unbuckling it, pulling it loop by loop before letting it fall to the floor beside you. Joel is looking down at you, eyes wide and dark and full of love and everything else that’s unsaid. His hand cups your face and you melt into his touch, nuzzling against him like a housecat basking in the warmth of a fireplace. 

“Baby,” Joel says from where he stands above you. His voice rasps around every vowel, lust dripping from it like honey. “Y’don’t gotta do that, c’mere. I’ll make you feel real good, Darlin’. Let me make you feel good.” You smile up at him, at your man, always putting your pleasure before his own. You shake your head softly, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Wanna make you feel good, Joel.” You say as you work the zipper down. His eyes never leave yours. Not as his pants fall around his ankles, or as you plant a kiss on his tan thigh. Not even as you palm his half-hard cock through his boxers, cupping him through the fabric. 

“Always taking such good care of me,” You say as you begin to pull his boxers down, kissing the newly revealed skin of his soft tummy. “Let me return the favor.” You keep tugging his boxers off slowly, pressing your lips softly to every inch of bare skin your greedy mouth can latch onto. You smile to yourself as you feel Joel’s breath hitching, the uneven rise and fall of his stomach against your curled lips. Your own breath catches in your throat as soon as Joel’s boxers fall to his ankles, his cock standing hard and proud before you, a bead of precum on the tip. 

This isn’t anything new. You and Joel have been together for a long time now, finally tying the knot last autumn after dating for five years. He takes such good care of you, showing his love in ways that range from sending you pictures of every heart-shaped object he comes across, to fucking you deep into the mattress until you’re screaming out his name. But still, you almost never get to love on him like you wish you could. He’s always so preoccupied with making you feel good, he doesn't realize that seeing him come undone for you has your sweet cunt clenching around nothing. 

You reposition yourself on your knees, making yourself as comfortable as the cold tile will allow, before taking Joel’s cock in your hand. He groans at the contact, your warm hand closing tightly around the thick base of him. The sound spurs you on, and you lean in to press a sweet kiss to the leaking tip. Joel’s hand flies to your hair, fisting it tightly. 

“Shit, Angel,” His voice is deep and gruff. You keep pressing feather-light kisses along the length of his dick, riling him up. “Fuck, go easy on me, Baby. Don’t tease me— shit,” You take him into your mouth, lips wrapping around the tip of his cock, tongue rubbing the sweet spot right beneath the head. The groan that Joel lets out is so primal and animalistic, you’re sure it’s been brewing in his chest for a while now. His hips stutter as he holds himself back from fucking your throat, and you take him deeper, mind hazy with the need to make him feel good, craving his sweet moans and groans. 

Joel is muttering about your perfect lips, and about what a good girl you are, taking him so well. His praise spurs you on, has you moaning and humming around his cock. 

But it’s not enough. You need more of him.

You pull your lips off of his dick with a wet pop! sound, spit dripping down your chin. Joel loosens his grip on your hair, confused. 

“Want you to fuck my throat,” You blurt out bluntly. Joel’s eyes go wide at your request. 

“Fuck– R’you sure?”He asks. You nod enthusiastically. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” He says, a little softer. His hand comes to rest on your cheek, his eyes wide with affection and worry. You hum, nuzzling into his touch, a smirk gracing your lips.

“Someone’s self absorbed,” You joke. Joel snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Goddamn smartass,” He replies, and you laugh. You press a light kiss to his lower tummy, his pubic hair scratching against your skin, before looking back up to him with a soft smile.

“M’serious,” You tell him. “Want you. Want all of you.” Joel inhales deeply.

“My perfect fuckin’ girl,” He says, and you beam. And after a moment– “Shit, yeah, okay.” It’s all the confirmation you need before taking him into your mouth once more, cheeks hollowing as you relish in his bitter flavor. Joel’s hand finds the back of your head once again, pulling you closer to him until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. His nostrils flare as he grunts, eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but moan at the intimacy of it, at the warm weight of him against your tongue. 

You can tell your sounds spur him on, giving him more confidence as he bucks his hips against you, making you choke around his cock. 

He looks so beautiful like this, with his tousled hair and his coffee-brown eyes watching you in awe, you can’t help but let your hand slide down beneath the waistband of your panties, fingers running through your slick folds, drawing small circles on your clit. 

He looks like an Adonis, like an ancient Greek statue carved from the finest marble. You run a hand up and down his thick thigh, your other hand still toying with your cunt. You sink a finger into your dripping hole, making you moan even more enthusiastically as you bob your head up and down Joel’s cock. He’s close and you know it, the rhythm of his hips uneven as he fucks into your mouth. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth slightly agape and yes, he looks so handsome like this, you feel yourself clenching around your finger before slipping another one into your tight hole. Joel’s always been better at this than you, his fingers thicker and longer, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You can’t help but wish it was him, fucking you deep and slow, thumb circling your clit while two fingers pump deep inside your pussy, making you gush and cream around him. But no, this is about him, now. You swirl your tongue around his heavy cock, pulling your head back slightly to suck at the sensitive tip. Joel lets out a broken moan before pulling you against him, your nose against his soft belly. It’s a sweet burn. He’s so big, you feel tears beginning to blur your vision as you breathe deeply through your nose. 

He finally lets you break away, and you gasp for air. You smile up at him, practically glowing, the hand that was previously buried between your plush thighs comes back up to stroke him, the mix of your spit and your juices coating his dick as your hand tugs at him. 

“Want you to come in my mouth,” You say, before pressing a soft kiss to the side of the shaft. “Wanna taste you.” Joel curses under his breath, something you can’t quite make out. You smirk, before taking him into your mouth again.

“Girl of my- fuck- girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” He says, and you hum around him. He gives two hard thrusts into your tight throat, before his hips still completely as he comes. You’re pressed against him, your eyes screwed shut as you focus on breathing through your nose, not wanting to break away before you get to taste all of him, every last drop on your tongue.

Joel’s hips jerk as his cum paints the velvet walls of your mouth. The flavor of him is bitter and salty, something you can’t quite put into words. 

Something that’s all Joel, all yours.

You slowly pull your mouth off of his softening cock, swallowing every last drop of his release, all while never breaking eye contact. Joel’s breathing is heavy and his eyes are wide, watching your every move with utter fascination and adoration. You give him a small smile as he brings his thumb to the corner of your lip, swiping up a leftover drop of his come and pushing it slowly into your mouth. It’s a welcome intrusion, and you wrap your lips around the finger immediately, tongue circling the pad of it. Joel grunts, before helping you up so that you’re standing again and kissing you deeply, has hand on the back of your head. You can’t help but smile into the kiss.

He still tastes like coffee. He tastes like coffee and Joel and a hint of you, reminding you he’s all yours.

“I love you,” You tell him, and he smiles.

“Love you too, Angel,” He replies. “Fuck, love you so goddamn much.”

__ __ __

whew! this one took a while to write cause i was sick for the longest time and couldn't really think about sucking dick...

thank you for reading!! i'd love to hear what you thought, and constructive criticism is always appreciated :)

picture I -- Spotify on Pinterest picture II -- TheLastredemption on Pinterest picture III -- вишневый котик on Pinterest

[lalacliffthorne]

when for a change, Azriel is the one in need of cuddles 💕

I'm back on my modern!batboys roomies bullshit, bc I missed our grumpy bat and am in desperate need of a cuddle, and bc baby boy deserves all the love and care in the world.

The front door fell shut behind me, and I sighed, kicking off my shoes.

"Hello?" Raising my head, I slipped out of my jacket, and my eyes fell onto the boots abandoned in the middle of the hall next to Azriel's open door.

My brows crunched softly.

“Az?”

I listened for a few heartbeats, and my ears picked up on the sound of the shower running. Taking a few steps forward, I peaked into Azriel's room, and my gaze found clothes strewn aimlessly over the room, a knocked over pencil holder and pictures fallen to the floor.

My heart dipped before tightening gently, and picking up my bag, I turned around, quickly sliding into my room.

When maybe ten minutes later, I heard the door to the bathroom open, I was sitting on Azriel's bed, pillows stuffed into my back, his crumpled blanket thrown over my bare legs, one of his sweatshirts drowning my body and a gentle weight on my chest.

The door was pushed open, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel stepped into the room, only wearing joggers hanging low on his lips. Muscles shifted under his bare skin as he ran a hand through his hair that looked damp and tousled, a rigid kind of tension in his whole body as he pushed the door close. Then he raised his head, and his body became completely still as our eyes met.

Something tightened gently under my ribs, but I just watched him, quiet.

For a second, Azriel just stared at me. His eyes, piercing and stormy, flickered over my face. Then I carefully pulled the blanket to the side and sent him the crooked ghost of a smile.

The muscles in Azriel's shoulders shifted, his jaw tightening. His gaze seemed to become molten as he flexed his fingers, something rising beneath, and suddenly, the weight on my chest shifted onto my throat.

Staring at him, I curled my fingers into my blanket and swallowed softly.

Azriel's gaze tracked the movement. Then his shoulders sagged as his whole stance seemed to deflate, the strange fight drowning out of his eyes and leaving them simply exhausted, and without another second of hesitation, Azriel moved.

Something leapt against my ribs when with a few strides, he reached the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he slid into the space between my legs, and something rose under my ribs when his arms slipped under my back and Azriel pulled me into a hug so tight, my heart got stuck in my throat.

My breath caught, and Azriel slid his arms further around me, grip crushing, face tucked into my neck. Then his shoulders sagged, and his body slumped heavily onto my chest.

My heart rose, and I slid my arms around his shoulders as I let myself sink back into the cushions. My legs came up to firmly frame Azriel's hips, and I dropped my head and buried my nose in his hair, squeezing him tightly.

Azriel nuzzled his nose into my skin, a soft sound leaving him as he buried deeper into me, the last bit of lingering tension in his body melting into nothingness. His weight was burying me in the pillows, so familiar that my body curved around his far taller one like muscle memory.

It felt like he was trying to hide me away, with his whole body covering mine, while simultaneously hiding himself.

My breath hitched gently, and I slid my arms further around his shoulders, squeezing him as tightly as I could as I pressed my nose into his damp hair.

“Hi,”, I whispered, sliding one hand up to curl my fingers into the hair at the back of his head, and Azriel made a low sound deep in his throat, his grip tightening as he buried himself deeper in my body.

Feeling my heart skip and rise, I held onto him, breathing in his familiar scent that made my chest ache. My thumb slowly brushed over the back of his head, then I stretched my arm with a little effort. Dragging the warm, heavy blanket over us, I let myself sink back into the pillows, slipping my hand out of Azriel's hair and carefully running my fingers over his bare back.

Muscles shifted under my touch and a gentle shudder travelled through his body as a low sound left him. Then Azriel shifted, arms tightening like he was trying to drag me closer, and something melted in my chest.

Gently, I started brushing my fingers over Azriel's back, following his spine up and down in slow, even motions. Raising my free hand to thread it through his hair, gently circling my thumb over the back of his head, I carefully dipped my head to the side slightly to catch a glimpse at Azriel’s face.

Something fluttered gently in my ribs when my gaze flickered over his closed eyes and cheek smushed against my collarbone, the crease between his dark brows slowly smoothing over as his jaw shifted, tensing before relaxing.

Feeling a wave of warmth rise in my chest, fluttering wildly, I dropped my head and pressed my lips against his forehead.

My heart dipped and skipped when Azriel's scent rose into my nose, his hair tickling my skin, and I thought I felt his chest vibrate when a deep sound left him. Then I buried my nose in his hair, running my fingers over the back of his head slowly.

"Are you okay?", I whispered, something tightening around my throat, and Azriel buried his nose in my neck. Then I felt him nod, just once.

Silence settled over the room, calm and comfortable as the sky outside slowly grew darker and darker. Azriel’s body radiated warmth, melting into mine until his muscles were completely loose and relaxed, his weight grounding as his slow, warm breath grazed my neck. My fingers carefully threaded through his hair, gently scratching over his scalp as I felt my own heartbeat calm, my eyes growing heavy. When my hand slipped up to rest against his jaw, my thumb beginning to lightly trace over Azriel's cheek, I felt his even, steady breath.

I had long lost track of time, but when I heard the distant sound of the front door opening and closing, Azriel hadn’t moved in a while. His breath was so slow, it felt like he had fallen asleep.

Gently running my fingers through his hair, I raised my head a little when there was a knock against my door, and with a creak, it opened, revealing tousled dark hair and wide shoulders as Rhys looked over his shoulder.

“Az, you he-“ He turned around and trailed off, and I groaned inwardly when his nearly violet eyes started twinkling, his lips slowly curving upwards in a smirk.

Pushing the door open further, he leaned against the frame and raised his brows.

I glowered softly and silently.

Don’t you dare.

Rhys’ grin grew, and he mouthed: “Cute.”

I rolled my eyes and flipped him off.

“Can I join in?” Rhys’ voice was lowered, though it did nothing to hide the amusement vibrating through it, and I contemplated throwing something at him. But before I could decide on what would make the least noise, Azriel’s low, tired voice vibrated through my bones.

“Fuck off.”

Rhys started grinning so widely, the dimples in his cheeks reached new depths. A low laugh vibrated in his chest, and he pushed off the doorframe.

“Rude.” Sending me a bright smile and a cheeky wink, he turned around, and I couldn’t keep the light giggle breaking from my throat as I watched him close the door again.

“Shithead,”, Azriel mumbled softly into my neck, but I could feel the ghost of a crease forming in his cheek under my fingers.

My heart fluttered gently when Az raised his head, resting his chin on my chest. Our noses brushed slightly, and the thrum under my ribs grew as my gaze flickered over his tired eyes.

"Hi,", I mumbled.

Azriel huffed gently, but the corner of his lips rose just barely. His eyes slowly tracked over my face, and something fluttered violently against my ribs at the spark of something feverish growing in his tired stare.

"Hi,", Azriel mumbled back, and my heart leapt into my throat at the sound of his slow, deep voice quietly vibrating through me.

For a second, we just stared at each other, almost greedy in the way our eyes flickered over the other's face. I catalogised the few pale freckles on his nose and the way his tousled hair fell over his forehead as my fingers slowly ran over the back of his head. Then I blinked lightly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" My voice was so soft, it vibrated in the tiny space between us as my gaze roamed Azriel's face and my hand carefully threaded through his hair.

"Not really." Azriel let his eyes fall shut for a second, his low, deep voice wavering between dry and simply tired.

Staring at him, I felt something close around my throat.

Azriel blinked, his gaze focusing back in on me. Amber eyes tracked over mine, tired, soft, and a little feverish. Then he blinked again, and his deep voice was quiet when he mumbled: "Got caught in the darkness."

Something tightened under my ribs, squeezing my heart.

Azriel's nose lightly brushed mine as he shifted a little, his gaze roaming over my face. Then his soft, low mumble washed over me. "You pulled me out though."

My breath caught in my throat, and pressure built behind my eyes as I nodded, quick and soft.

Azriel's lips curved, just a little as his gaze flickered over mine. Then he tightened his grip and shifted forward, and my heart leapt high when he rolled onto his back with a quiet grunt, pulling me with him.

A soft, breathy squeak bubbled in my throat, and somehow, I managed to catch myself with my forearms pressing into the mattress next to Azriel's head.

My breath hitched when I felt his grip tighten to keep me from sliding away to the side, one of his hands slipping under my sweatshirt and causing a gentle shiver to travel down my spine as his calloused skin pressed against my back.

Something swelled under my ribs, and exhaling softly, I let myself slowly sink into his chest. Azriel shifted to get comfortable, resting his head against the pillows as he stared up at me, and swallowing gently, I traced my eyes over Azriel's face. Then I carefully dipped my head.

My nose lightly brushed against Azriel's, and I could feel his muscles shift, his lashes fluttering against my cheeks. His breath fanned over my skin, his scent rising into my nose as his grip tightened, and feeling something rise in my chest, bright and all-consuming, I bridged the last inch and slowly pressed my lips onto his.

A low sound broke from Azriel's throat, deep and hoarse. His hand rose to cup the side of my neck as his arm slid around my waist, and his thumb brushed over the curve of my neck as I kissed him, simple, warm and long enough to feel dizzy.

Pulling back carefully only for a few seconds, I gently brushed my nose against Azriel's. Then I dipped my head and pressed our lips together again, and Azriel exhaled slowly against my cheek, his fingers sliding into my hair, and a soft noise bubbled in my throat.

Breaking the kiss slowly, I pressed my lips against the corner of Azriel's, then his cheek, his chin, the side of his nose, slow, gentle, my heart pounding against my ribs when I felt his lashes flutter against my cheek.

Azriel's grip tightened, and threading my fingers through his hair, I sank deeper into his chest, pressing one last long kiss onto the place where the crease in his cheek formed when he smiled. Then I pulled back, and Azriel stared at me from half-lidded eyes, that tired, feverish look doubled as his gaze dragged over my face.

Feeling my lips curve, I nudged my nose against his lightly. The corner of Azriel's lips twitched as his piercing eyes dragged tiredly over my face, and I brushed my thumb over his eyebrow before letting my head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh, burying my face in the crook of his neck. Azriel's hand slipped up my back as he slid his arms further around me, then he dropped his nose into my hair and slowly breathed out.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123 @kalulakunundrum

[strangerstilinski]

𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬, 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; it’s been a long couple of months, and after a particularly rough night, your ex boyfriend finds his way straight back to you.

warnings; no use of y/n, post s4, exes-to-lovers, description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, emotional sex, unprotected vaginal sex, a lil bit of cockwarming

word count; ~5k

a/n; i meant for this to be a quick little hurt/comfort thing but then my mind kind of ran wild and it turned into.. this. but i think i really like how it turned out sooo, y'know.. leave a comment/tag/reblog if you enjoy!

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

You're not entirely certain who you were expecting to find on the other side of your door at two in the morning, and maybe you should've given the possibilities a bit more thought before unlocking the door and swinging it open wide, effectively exposing yourself to whatever may be waiting on the other side — but you don't. And it's with a sleep-slowed brain, a baggy tshirt resting high on your naked thighs, and bare feet that drag lazy across cold floorboards, that you find yourself staring at your ex boyfriend.

Steve Harrington.

He's standing in front of you looking a little nervous, a little lost, and a whole lot like he's just come from some sort of brawl. The sudden brightness of the hallway lights outside of your apartment makes your eyes ache and you're squinting, one hand coming up to block a bit of the light just as your heart drops as you take him in.

His hair is a little longer than when you last saw him, impossible for him to keep from flopping down over his forehead while the ends curl at the nape of his neck, light shining down on the strands and streaking golden through the locks that you'd run your hands through once upon a time. But you're hardly able to process or file away those small changes when your gaze begins frantically to absorb the more important and wildly more alarming details in his appearance.

The light wash of his jeans is covered in splotches of denim slightly darker than the rest where something's been spilled down his leg, streaks of dirt rubbed into the knees like he'd fallen down, and blood — there are crimson drops of it splattered along the fabric at his thigh, likely his, likely from the split lip he's sporting, or perhaps from his bruising nose.. When those red smears crusted beneath his nostrils had been fresh and wet and had clearly dripped down past his chin and onto the collar of his shirt, which also seems to be stained in an array of red-splotched fabric.

“Fuck. Steve, what-” Your voice shakes through the sleepy rasp in your throat, blood roaring in your ears at the familiarity of it all — the scene in front of you sending that achingly familiar trickle of fear and worry and panic all racing down your spine.

“I- Hey, sweetheart.” His own voice cracks a little like his throat's been scraped raw from shouting. He's got his hands tucked away in his back pockets like he might be able to make himself small enough that you won't start yelling, his eyes sad and a little pleading as he gives you a weak smile. He lets out a small hiss of a wince when the motion pulls at the slow drying scab on his lower lip.

“Stevie..” The nickname slips out before you can swallow it down.

You think that you might be in shock, if the adrenaline shooting through your veins is anything to go by. It's making it a little difficult to think clearly as you stumble through the doorway, hands coming into contact with his chest as you brace yourself. Your thumbs find those drops of blood that are still drying into the fabric of his shirt, shaking fingers dragging over the freckles on the side of his throat on their way to his jaw.

You have to fight the instinct to linger on those faded scars encircling his neck, have to fight to push back the memories of the night that things between you had finally fallen apart — when all of Steve's half-truths and secrets and outright lies had finally pushed you to your breaking point. The night of the earthquake. When he'd shown up on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning, just like this, looking like he'd been to hell and back, in search of comfort and someone to patch him up but apparently not looking to give out any explanations for the state he'd come to you in. Not for the marks on his neck, and certainly not for the horrifying chunks of flesh that had been torn from his stomach and sides.

The fear you'd felt that night coils in your gut again. It's the very same fear that you'd endured eight months before the end, when Steve had gone awol for forty-eight hours only to find you the evening of the mall fire. That time, his left eye had been nearly swollen shut, body littered in bruises in varying shades of black and purple. You'd sat with him in the bathtub with your limbs carefully wrapped around him for hours, until the water had gone ice cold, and even after that he'd been glued to your side until morning. You'd both burrowed beneath a pile of blankets despite the summer heat, legs tangled and sweaty bodies clinging to one another. Even though you couldn't begin to understand how the fire could have been the cause of his turmoil, of his injuries, you'd still held him tight, one hand tangled in his damp hair at all times while he'd clutched onto you like you were his lifeline. The hours it had taken for the tremble in his hands to fade had nearly broken your heart.

It's all a little too much, the position that you've suddenly been thrust back into.

“Wh-? What the hell happened?” You question hoarsely.

Why you bother to ask now, you're not entirely sure. You're certainly not expecting him to give you any answers, but as your thumb pushes gently into the swelling softness of his busted lip, the fingers of your opposite hand brushing the hair back from his blood-spattered forehead, Steve sighs.

“It's not.. I was at the bar. Got into a fight.” He admits with another wince as your thumb skates up the bridge of his nose.

“Got into a fight or started a fight?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking slow between his; they're tired and bloodshot, his lashes clumped together like maybe he'd been crying, caramel swirling in the pretty brown depths that you'd been steadfastly avoiding thinking about these last few months.

A huff crackles as he tries to push a sigh from his blood-clogged nose, his hands finally leaving his pockets to hang awkwardly at his sides while he gives a small shrug, “..’was stupid.” He says in lue of a direct answer.

“I'm sure it was,” You grumble under your breath, swallowing your instincts and forcing yourself to take a small step back, your hands falling away so you can hug your arms across your own chest with a sigh, “What're you doing here, Steve?”

“I didn't know where to.. I..” The words don't seem to come and he falters, shrinking in on himself further, “I don't know.” He admits after a moment.

Your eyes close as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you, “I can't-”

“Please,” Steve nearly whispers the word and when you meet his eyes again, his gaze is a little watery, “I know you don't want to see me. I know you're still mad. And.. You have every right to be, okay? But-”

“But what?” You plead weakly, fingers digging a little meanly into your own arms.

“I just..” He struggles for a moment, hands raking through his hair and ruffling it into further disarray, “I just needed.. I..”

The fissure in your heart cracks wide, the slow healing wound tearing open to expose this gaping thing that feels a little like it might be enough to shatter your soul. Even while the more sensible parts of your brain scream at you to shut the door in his face, you find yourself taking his hand in yours, swollen and blood crusted knuckles under your thumb as you pull him into the dark apartment and close the door behind you.

You push him to sit down on the couch, a wordless order for him to stay put implied in the sidelong glance that you shoot him before turning away to move down the hall and grab your first aid kit and a wet cloth from the bathroom. When you return, Steve hasn't moved an inch, just as miserable and small-looking as you'd left him a few moments before. He's got his fingers tucked into the crook of space behind his knees, the tall streetlight across the road allowing stripes of light to cut across his hunched form, late night shadows eating up everything else.

The coffee table is nudged closer to the sofa with your foot as you sit down in front of him, your bare knees brushing filthy denim when you scoot to the edge of the table and bring the cloth up to his blood-spattered cheek. You're gentle with it, wiping at same spots a few times with the lightest pressure you can manage as the mess proceeds to smear, red-tinged streaks of water against his skin lessening with each careful swipe. Once his face is clean, you move on to the knuckles of his right hand, pulling it from where he has it tucked beneath his thigh to softly wash away the crusted blood from his split and bruising skin.

You work silently for a few minutes. The soiled cloth is dropped against the coffee table with a wet slap and you immediately turn to find the alcohol and cotton balls in the messy basket you keep stored beneath your bathroom sink.

You've just begun to open the package of cotton when Steve says your name, nothing more than a hoarse whisper to break the heavy silence.

When you meet his eyes, the desperation you find there has you faltering for a moment. The warmth that seeps into your skin from each point of contact between you suddenly seems so much stronger. Heat and nerves creep up the back of your neck as you blink at him in question.

The backs of his damp knuckles drag up over your calf before pushing into the smooth skin on the outside of your thigh, his thumb pinching lightly at the doughy flesh there, “I.. Can you..” His hand unfurls and he lets his palm settle against you, his fingertips high enough to slip beneath the hem of your oversized shirt and brush the crook where your thigh meets your hip, “I just.. want..”

He seems incapable of finishing his thoughts, but he doesn't really need to because you know. With the way his free hand comes up to push a lock of hair behind your ear, thumb tracing the line of your jaw to your chin before catching against your lower lip in that all too familiar way, you know what it is that he's asking for.

“Steve..” Your accompanying sigh comes out a little shaky as you exhale it over the pad of his finger, your lashes fluttering as something stirs in your gut in response to his soft touch, “I don't think that's a good-”

“Please.” He whispers again — and, how could you possibly deny him when he sounds so pitiful that it wrenches at your broken heart? While his brows are drawing together like he's already bracing himself for your rejection even as his eyes remain soft and pleading?

And when the hand on your thigh pushes up to slide over the bare skin at the base of your spine, when he applies the barest pressure to urge you toward him, when the fingers on your face slip behind your neck — you're climbing into his lap with little encouragement. Your shins push into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, hands finding the hem of his ruined shirt and guiding it up over his head in an easy movement that has his hair flopping down over his forehead again.

When your gaze drops, you allow yourself all of ten seconds to trail your fingers over the rough scars across his abdomen. The skin is a little puckered and pink, mottled in a way that it probably wouldn't be if he'd found himself at the hospital that night in late March instead of on your doorstep, but they've healed. It's a far cry from the jagged wounds that you'd tried to clean with blood-stained hands, through quiet sobs and glassy eyes. They'd been so deep, as if something had tried to carve out little bits and pieces of him over and over, like something had torn into him, like something had feasted on his flesh then and left behind nothing but the evidence of small, frighteningly sharp teeth.

Your choked questions ring in your ears even now, the way you'd begged for him to tell you what was going on, who kept hurting him like this — but as easily as your own voice echos in your memories, so does Steve's. You can still hear his agonized groans and cries of pain as you'd tended to his injuries, can still remember the sound of his desperate pleas for you to drop it, to just accept that he couldn't explain-

And you'd asked him then, if it was that he couldn't or that he wouldn't. The resulting silence from him had been answer enough.

Now, Steve seems to know exactly where your mind has gone and he covers your hands with his own, pressing your palms flat against the lingering marks on his skin.

“They're healed.” You state quietly through the emotion clogging your throat. The obviousness of the statement rings stupidly in your ears but you're not sure what else to say in the heavy silence.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, voice hoarse, “I had a pretty good nurse.. Cleaned me up real nice so that I didn't, I dunno, die from an infection or somethin'.”

A laugh pushes up from your throat that borders on a sob, “She sounds cool.” You manage, your thumbnail scraping lightly into the healed patch of skin under your hand.

“Oh, yeah, the coolest.” Steve tells you with the barest hint of a smile pulling at the unbruised side of his mouth. “You okay?” He asks quietly after another moment of silence.

“Yeah. Yeah, 'm fine.” You tell him with a shake of your head.

“Sweetheart..” Steve starts slowly, “I want.. Shit, I- I want you so bad right now, but if you don't want this-” When his hands move to the hem of your sleep shirt, his eyes meet yours in silent question, and your head is nodding a little wildly in approval before you can begin to think too hard about it.

His hands nearly burn with every brush against your bare skin as you strip one another down to nothing, his touch leaving behind invisible streaks of something heavy and terrifyingly melancholy, something that you're sure will linger painfully in your chest long after he's gone and left you with a broken heart and an ever growing list of unanswered questions.

“I still have to clean your cuts.” You tell him quietly.

Steve's eyes only rake over your naked body for a moment before his gaze settles back on yours, “Okay.”

You settle over his lap again and wet a cotton ball with alcohol, “It's gonna hurt.” You warn in a whisper.

“I know.” Steve returns just as softly.

Bracing one hand on the side of his neck, you dab featherlight over his split lip. Steve's jaw clenches at the sting as it seeps into the cut and you murmur a soft apology while you continue to clean the area with careful fingers.

Steve's hands settle on your hips and his eyes flick between yours as he waits for you to meet his gaze. When you look up from his swollen lower lip, he gulps, adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Is this okay?” He asks, fingers digging into your flesh a little as he pulls your hips until your groins align nicely.

“Yeah.” You murmur, dabbing at the cut on his lip again just so that you have an excuse to look away from his eyes.

Your heartbeat ricochets against your ribs sharply as Steve guides you to grind slow over his lap, the warmth of him wedged between your spread folds. The way he manhandles you isn't rushed, the movement not nearly as desperate as you'd been expecting from his plea for intimacy. It's slow and quiet and filled with a weight that you wouldn't quite be able to explain if you tried.

It doesn't take long for his cock fatten up and grow stiff underneath you, his length and the patch of hair surrounding it both streaked with slick where your wet cunt has been dragging back and forth. You're both breathing a little heavy as you finish cleaning the cuts on his lip and the bridge of his nose, your faces close though neither one of you make any move to close the distance.

Steve curls an arm around the back of your thigh as he reaches around to guide himself toward your entrance. A breathy sound falls from your lips when you roll your hips back and feel his tip catch, just barely pushing in. He's as thick and warm and perfect as he's always been, and that hunger to have all of him spreads down the back of your tongue like warm honey, but the moment you spread your thighs a little farther to take more, Steve is stopping you.

“Wait, wait, wait. You.. Are you sure you're okay with this?” He asks suddenly. His fingers are digging into your hips, holding you in place to keep you from sinking farther down onto him as he awaits your response.

“Wh-?” Your jaw trembles with something like petulance, a little desperate yourself now that you can feel the fat head of his cock inside you, stretching you wide despite barely breaching your entrance, “You said that you-”

“I do. Fuck, I do, I just want to make sure you're sure.” He says it so soft, so earnest, and his concern has you feeling something resembling whiplash. The two of you haven't spoken in months, but he'd shown up at your front door in the middle of the night and practically begged for you; for your presence and your care and your body.

You want to feel angry with him. For looking out for your well-being now, for being Steve, for bringing up so many feelings that you'd tried so hard to bury, but he's looking up at you with imploring eyes — a gaze that says if you climbed off of his lap now, he wouldn't be upset with you, if anything, he'd be upset with himself and..

It has you reeling a little bit, that blooming affection crawling like rapidly expanding ivy inside your chest.

You brush that stubborn chunk of hair back and off of his forehead again, your fingers combing through to the back of his head until they can toy with the bits curling at the nape of his neck. Your mouth finds its way to the space between his brows, a shaky exhale masked by the kiss you press to his skin before dropping your foreheads together.

“I am. I'm sure.” You promise in a whisper.

When you sink down, both of you groan in synchrony, breathy and guttural. The stretch hurts more than you were expecting, but it's been months since you've done this, so you suppose that the sting from him filling you up is warranted. Your hips settle against his and his arms curl around your back to hold you in place, to hold you close. His chest is flush to yours, scattered hairs on his pecs pressed to your breasts, the tip of your nose still barely avoiding brushing against the bruised bridge of his own.

The sensation of being so full leaves you feeling a little overwhelmed, the intimacy of the moment suddenly too heavy. His breath mingling with your own and his soft hair tangled up around your fingers brings pinpricks of heat to your eyes that you stubbornly attempt to blink back.

“Hey.. Hey, honey,” Steve murmurs softly, one hand coming up to swipe a thumb along your watery lashline, “What's wrong? You okay? You hurting?”

Another strangled sounding scoff of a laugh tumbles from your lips, a weak sniffle as your fingers find their way to those smooth, faded lines along the front of his throat again, “I should be asking you that. You're the one who's had the shit beaten out of him tonight.”

“I'm fine. Two weeks n' I'll be good as new,” Steve assures you with carefully crafted nonchalance, his tear-stained thumb dragging back and forth along the apple of your cheek, “Now what's goin' on in that beautiful head of yours, huh?”

“I just..” You huff out a sigh, rolling your hips experimentally to test the ache between your thighs, “I missed you. Fuck, I- I miss you so much, Steve.”

A few tears do manage to break through then, something about the way the patchy light coming in through the windows casts a glow over his battered face, the browns in his eyes shining golden in the dark.

“Me too, I miss you too,” He rasps desperately, “Shit, honey. If you think I don't miss you every goddamn second- You're everything. You're my everything.”

He's holding your face in both hands now, palms cradling your jaw so gently, arms trembling like he's trying to fight the urge to hold onto you tighter. His restraint and his words twist sharply in your gut, something akin to dread weaving its way inside of you.

“I'm scared,” You admit, voice quiet and buried beneath tears, “I'm so scared-”

“Scared?” Steve repeats, concern flashing in his eyes, “What're you afraid of?”

“Losing you.” You gasp.

“Sweetheart-”

Your chest is heaving a little with the labored breaths beginning to tumble past your lips, “I'm gonna lose you all over again, because I can't.. It- It is terrifying. To see you hurt and bleeding and not know why. To worry that the next time might be even worse than the last and have you keep skirting around the truth or outright lying-”

“Hey, hey. Honey, hey,” Steve gives your cheeks a soft shake under his hands and your gaze falls back to his, “I'm sorry-”

“Jesus christ.” You bemoan quietly as another tear falls, halfheartedly pushing at his arms to dislodge his hands.

“No, no, I mean it,” Steve pleads softly, “I'm so sorry I kept you in the dark, I just- Shit, it's so complicated, I-”

“Asshole.” The interruption comes out a grumble under your breath, and you're gearing up to climb off of his lap entirely when his weak chuckle meets your ears.

“I am,” He nods, brushing your hair back from your tear streaked face, “I'm an asshole and I'm sorry. I- I'll tell you everything, alright? I will. I will.”

“Promise?” You hate yourself for how small you sound, how unsure and broken.

“I promise.”

You crane your neck and tilt your head to brush your lips featherlight over his, carefully avoiding putting any pressure on the mess of purple and black and red along the bridge of his nose, your thumbs gravitating yet again to drag over those smooth, barely visible scars around his neck.

“Does your mouth hurt too much, or can I-?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking between his.

“'course you can,” His hand pushes into your hair behind your ear, cupping your head to guide you forward carefully, “C'mere.”

Your mouths come together with all of the gentleness you can manage and you leave one soft peck, then two, then three. You begin to work your hips over his all the while, and neither of you can hold back a keening noise of pleasure at the slow drag of his cock inside your warm walls.

You ease back from his mouth to drag the pads of your index and middle finger lightly over the bruises coloring his skin.

“Did.. Did you really get into a bar fight?” You can't help but ask, even as you're lifting up and dropping back down hard enough to have you both letting out a breathy whimper.

“Yeah,” Steve nods, his fingers trailing along your ribs and stomach like he's trying to re-familiarize himself with every inch of your skin, “I.. It's possible I have some unresolved anger or something from- After everything that happened. Sometimes it kinda takes over, like tonight, and then I pick a fight I know I can't win, but.. 'm not lying to you anymore. I mean that.”

You nod and his arms curl around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Trapped in his embrace, you can't do much more than grind on him with slow swivels of your hips, the head of his cock rubbing at that spot on your inner wall that has your brows pulling together in pleasure.

He's so close like this. His chest hair drags against your bare breasts and your tummies are pressed together and the sweat on his forehead mingles with your own. You feel warm — in the physical sense, yes, but also in your stomach, in your bones, in your heart.

“I love you.” Steve says with emotion, like he's feels that warmth too.

Your eyes prickle a little traitorously, fingers toying with the soft ends of his hair, “I love you,” You manage in a choked gasp, “I love you.”

“Ho- Shit..” Steve groans, chin tipping up toward the ceiling for a moment as he throws his head back, “You feel so fuckin' good, honey.”

“Y'r cock feels good,” You pant in response, “So good. So big. I- Fuck.”

“So tight,” He mutters, sitting up a little straighter to meet every roll of your hips, “So perfect. 's like you were fucking made for me, you know that? Take me so well. You were made for this, for me-”

The way that your clit is rubbing against the thatch of hair on his pelvis has you a little dumb already, and his lust-fueled rambling only intensifies your budding orgasm, both of your thighs slick with how fucking good it feels to have him inside of you again. You nod in agreement to his words and manage to give a small whimper, but it seems that he's not done yet.

“-Missed this so much. Missed you, missed this.. Fuck. Honey, I love you. I love you. I-”

“Steve,” You whine, “Love you too.”

His tanned cheeks have gone a little pink beneath the dusting of bruises on his face, breathy groans fanning out past his busted lip. The pretty little noises of pleasure that he can't seem to hold back have you reeling, your gut twisting with heat at the sight of him, the sound of him.

“So goddamn wet for me, honey,” Steve grumbles, his voice catching in a way that has your cunt clenching down on him, “Listen to her. You hear that?”

You do. There's a lewd squelch emitting from the place where you're joined, the sound filling the otherwise quiet apartment every time that your hips roll at just the right angle. It happens again just then, his cock stretching your hole wide enough for the drag of slick and air to create a mildly embarrassing noise that has Steve giving another needy groan, his hips bucking up into yours.

“God, fuck, please tell me you're getting close,” He nearly whimpers, lifting up off of the couch to drive up into you again, “Please, I'm getting so close, babe. Need you to come.”

Euphoria licks up your spine in a white-hot flame, your weight bearing down that much harder to apply more pressure on your puffy clit. Sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing beneath Steve's forearms where they're looped tight around you.

“Mhm,” You hum, the sound catching in the back of your throat, “M'gonna come, Stevie. Y'r gonna make me come.”

Your hips roll a little faster and Steve continues to buck up into you, his cock pressing so, so nicely against the spot that has your brain whiting out a bit at the edges.

“Come on, sweet girl. Come for me,” Steve moans, warm breath fanning out over your lips, “Please, honey. Please come on my cock. Shit, I need it. Need you t' come, please.”

“I am, I am, I am,” You babble desperately, “M'gonna, fuck, fuck, 'm-”

The knot of pleasure in your gut twists sharply and you cry out, face burying in his neck with a whiny gasp as your orgasm crashes over you. Your cunt tightens and trembles around him and a deliciously choked sounding moan tears past Steve's lips as he finally lets his own release wash over him.

The warmth of his come coating your insides has you fluttering around him further, your hands grappling restlessly for any part of him to hold on to, his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders, his biceps. Breathy little whines and gasps and groans tumble from both of you as you ride it out, the trembling tenseness in your muscles releasing all at once as you go limp in his arms.

It takes a minute, but you eventually come back to yourself a little, peppering a delicate kiss to that infuriating strip of scar tissue along his throat before you're pushing up with weak limbs to look at the man underneath you.

“Hey.” It comes out in a murmur, a breathless little thing that leaves you feeling kind of silly, but your brain hasn't yet recovered enough to work at its full-capacity.

Steve only grins, his lips curling to reveal perfect teeth, a pretty smile pulling at his busted and bruising lips. His eyes twinkle in the patchy darkness of your living room, a pretty mosaic of brown and gold and speckles of green catching in the light and forcing your heart rate to tick up in adoration.

“Hey, honey.” He returns sweetly, one arm uplooping from around your spine so he can reach up to push the sweaty flyaways back from your face.

You can't help but shift over him, sore legs flexing where they're spread over his hairy thighs, a trickle of warmth leaking out from where you're still joined and dripping down into the thick hair at the base of his cock. It feels dirty and intimate in the best way — his come mingled with your own, your fingers in his sweat-dampened hair, his wide palms rubbing softly from your hips to your spine and then back again.

“I kinda want to stay like this forever.”

Your whispered admission has his eyes crinkling softly and he drops his forehead to your chest, his breath fanning out over your breasts as he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“You won't hear any complaints from me.” Steve mumbles into your skin.

You never want to leave this moment. Your nose pushes into his hair and you pull in the familiar melding of scents, of expensive shampoo and hairspray and an underlying smell that's just Steve. You want to stay right here, in this perfectly imperfect bubble, but you feel Steve wince when he burrows his face into your chest just a little too hard and the serenity cracks.

“Steve?” You murmur softly, fingertips scraping gently against his scalp despite the nerves in your stomach.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You steel yourself with a deep breath, “You know I'd do anything to protect you, right? You.. You know that I'll do anything for you.. Know that.. That you can trust me?” It comes out in a rush, and your nerves increase tenfold when Steve pulls back to look at you, “..Right?”

“Honey,” The endearment comes out laced with something sweet and sticky that makes it sound an awful lot like an apology, “Of course I do.”

His eyes are so soft as they flick between your own, his hands smoothing up the length of your spine in a soothing drag of skin on skin. One hand leaves his hair only so that you can trace your thumb over those two wide freckles on the apple of his cheek, a self-deprecating sort of smile pulling at your lips.

“And.. And you're gonna tell me what's been going on with you?” You nearly whisper.

His mouth finds yours to press a featherlight kiss to your lips, “Yeah, honey. No more secrets. No more lies.”

“Promise?” You ask again, lips pulling into a smile where they're still brushing his own. Your faces are so close it's hard to focus on the way his eyes shine with adoration when he looks up at you, the bruises on the bridge of his nose blurring in the darkness.

“Promise.”

[avoxrising]

Saw You In That Dress

Finnick x Reader

Masterlist Link

So @kittimbo posted this fic idea on their blog and I wanted to give a shot at writing it (see repost of the request on my blog).

Basically the reader is another victor from District 4 and Finnick’s childhood best friend. She has to go to an event in the capital in a sheer dress and it leaves Finnick very flustered and things heat up back at her place… smut ahead!

Content warnings - cursing, prostitution, unwanted public nudity, very smutty

“Tigris you can’t be serious,” you groan as you see the dress she brought you. It was made of purple organza and was very see through. Your whole body would be on display. Tigris had enough decency to provide you with a small nude thong but your chest was fully on display.

“Client’s request,” Tigris responds. “You just have to be with him during the event and then you get the rest of the night off to wear whatever you want. The siren must make her appearances after all.”

The capital had called you “The Siren” since your games. During the final eight interview your sister told the capital how you were the best singer in District 4 and the capital ran wild with that comment. You were made to pick up singing as your official victor hobby and the rest is history.

Knowing what would happen if you didn’t comply, you reluctantly let Tigris dress you. The dress wouldn’t actually be so bad if it wasn’t see through. The fabric flowed beautifully around your features and the halter top was covered in expensive jewels. Unfortunately, all anyone would notice was your bare top half, not the rest of you.

As your driver takes you to the event at Snow’s mansion you have a moment of panic. The fact that your childhood best friend and mentor, Finnick, was also going to be in attendance was a sense of relief until you saw what you would be wearing. Now you have to avoid him. You can’t let him see you in this dress. That’s literally the definition of embarrassing.

Luckily, the event is fairly crowded. You’re stuck to your client like glue for the whole evening, trying to hide your dress behind him as much as possible. Unfortunately, he purchased you and this dress for the sole intent of checking you out and showing you off, so he mainly kept you in front of him so your girls were in eyesight at all times. You could barely hide your discomfort.

“Come on Siren darling you need to meet my sister,” he coos. “She’s a big fan of Tigris and she would love to see your dress. I’m sure her date would too.”

You reluctantly join him as he glides across the room. The sight of his sister and her date makes you freeze. Of course it had to be Finnick. The second he notices your outfit his eyes shoot to the floor, doing his best not to stare.

“Celia my dear sister!” your client exclaims as he introduces you to a woman with green hair and eyes like a snake. “I’d like you to meet my lovely victor for tonight. Did you know Tigris designed her dress?”

The woman gushes over your dress, running the fabric through her fingers as you stand their uncomfortably. Ironically, Finnick looks more uncomfortable than you. He’s sweating and shifting from foot to foot. What is he doing?

“I’ll be right back,” he tells his date, scurrying away. She’s too enthralled by your dress to notice his absence but you can’t help but feel betrayed. Why was he leaving you alone to fend for yourself?

The rest of the event passes too slowly. It’s finally 3am when your driver picks you up to bring you back to the victors’ apartments in the capital. You spend the car ride removing all the pins from your hair and the jewels from your neckline that Tigris glued on.

When you get back to your apartment, all you want to do is change into actual comfy clothes and go to sleep, but your plans are sidelined by Finnick sitting at your kitchen counter. You can’t help but stare at him in disbelief, as if he had the audacity to think you’d want to hang out with him at this hour, right after he left you alone with your client and his.

You let out a long exhale before dropping your shoes by the door and heading to your room, eager to get out of your dress. Finnick, of course, follows you. What the hell was his problem?

“Hey,” he says as you walk further into your apartment. “How was your night?”

“Awful,” you huff, finally turning around to face him. “What are you even doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he nervously replies, doing his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Well everyone has seen a whole lot of me tonight,” you retort. You cross your arms over your chest, causing Finnick’s eyes to abruptly snap back up to your face. He was definitely looking.

“I like the dress,” he comments. You roll your eyes and turn to head towards the room when he stops you, putting one of his hands on your arm.

“Wait,” he says. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving you with my client. I just couldn’t control myself with you in that dress. You looked…”

You look up at him, slightly confused. Sure you two had always been somewhat flirty for two people who were just friends, but something about the way you two were flirting tonight felt different.

“You couldn’t control yourself?” you smirk.

“No,” he shyly replies. “I really couldn’t.”

“Well what would you do if you didn’t have to control yourself?” you ask, dragging your fingers down the arm that lay on your shoulder.

“Do you really want to know?” he asks, using his arm to maneuver you so your back was against the wall. Things were definitely different tonight.

“Yes,” you nervously swallow. “Please.”

He hungrily encapsulates your lips with his as his hands hold you firmly against the wall. Was your childhood best friend and longtime crush actually kissing you?

His hands roamed up your stomach until they sat just under your boobs, hands pressing gently into the sheer fabric covering them.

“If I didn’t have to control myself in there I would have dragged you to Snow’s office so I could bend you over his desk and fuck you till you couldn’t walk,” he growls. “You would be singing my name like the deadly siren you are. I would leave marks all over you till your arms and neck matched your dress and everyone knew you didn’t belong to them.”

His hands dig into the flesh of your boobs and you let out a soft moan. You needed his hands in a million different places right now but the words wouldn’t form to tell him that.

“You just look too good in that dress,” he groans, pressing himself closer to you. Your hands drift down his torso until they come to rest over his dress pants. They were definitely getting a bit tight due to the conversation.

“I might look better with it off,” you smirk at him, sliding your hand down gently over his bulge. He let out a deep groan at the contact and swiftly guided you back over to your couch just a few feet away, where he promptly had you sit on his lap, facing him.

“I want to show them that they don’t own you,” he says as you kiss his neck, definitely leaving marks. You pull back for a moment to look into his deep blue green eyes. The two of you had crossed a line, and there was no going back to just friends.

“They don’t,” you tell him. “I won’t let them own you either.”

The moment intensifies until Finnick smashes his lips back into yours, hands pulling up the bottom of your dress. He slides your thong to the side and quickly goes to undo his pants. You impatiently yank them down to his knees, watching his very prominent erection bounce up to hit his stomach.

No words needed to be said, you two already knew what the other was thinking. You take ahold of his member and line it up with your soaking entrance. Only he could do this to you.

He unties the halter top of your dress, fully exposing your breasts to him. He can’t help but run is hands over them and give them a squeeze.

“They’re perfect,” he grins, looking up at you. “You’re perfect.”

You pull his lips to yours as you sink down onto him. He stretches you out nicely and it takes you a second to adjust to his size.

Slowly, you pull back up before sitting yourself back down onto him, moaning in the process.

“Fuck Finnick,” you groan. He ruts his hips up into yours, telling you to get moving. You heed his command and begin to bounce up and down on him, the sound of skin hitting skin filling your apartment.

He presses his face to your chest and gently bites and sucks as you ride him, loving the way your boobs bounce with every thrust. Eventually he has you turn around so he can wrap his arms around you and hold your boobs while you bounce on him.

He lets out a groan and you can tell he’s close, his dick twitching inside of you. The feeling in your stomach lets you know you’re close too, but you need something more.

You wrap one of your hands around his, guiding it down to your swollen clit.

“Please,” you beg as you push his hand towards your core. He does not disappoint as his fingers make contact with your clit.

It’s only a few moments later before your orgasm comes crashing down on you, with Finnick not far behind. He pulls you down onto him as he spurts himself deep into you, burying his face in your neck. You don’t think he could get any deeper but he continues to thrust as he coats your walls.

When the moment fades, he gently lifts you off of him, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he goes to get a warm towel. You lay back on the couch, exhausted. You would have to lie to Tigris about why the dress got so sweaty.

“Here,” Finnick hums as he lays you back on the couch. He proceeds to wipe you up, your clit throbbing from the contact. After you are both cleaned up, you ditch the idea of pjs and climb into your bed together, the sun already rising over the capital.

“We should have done that a lot sooner,” Finnick states. You give him a happy hum in response as you nuzzle up against him. “Thank god I saw you in that dress.”

-

I hope this was in line with your idea! Let me know in the comments what y’all think of this and if I should do more of possessive Finnick in the future.

[slxsherr]

So Melodramatic But It Turns Me On

pairing: ethan landry x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: you make sure ethan won't die a virgin.

wc: 1294

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, unprotected sex (p in v), loss of virginity, briefly mentioned cum eating, oral sex (f!receiving)

“Does that mean I’ll die a virgin?” Ethan asks, stunning the group with his overshare. 

The group moves on quickly after that, Mindy continues her lecture but you can’t stop thinking about what Ethan said. You don’t understand how Ethan can still be a virgin, he’s cute, a bit awkward but in a funny way, and smart, girls should be throwing themselves at him. Ethan thinks the same, but that’s something he’d only ever admit to the thousands of other men with the same opinion on the forums he visits online. 

You know if you talk about it to your friends they’ll tell you it’s a bad idea. Even before the Ghostface attacks, Mindy didn’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go after Ethan, but now that he’s at the top of her suspect list, you doubt she’s changed her mind. After Anika and Quinn’s murder, you expect they’ll suspect you too since you weren’t with them, and for a moment they do, but quickly change their minds when they remember you genuinely believed all cats were girls and all dogs were boys. 

It’s not fair that they ruled you out for being dumb, despite not having an alibi, but still suspect Ethan even though he was at econ. It’s your sympathetic nature that invites him to your apartment for the night, even though Mindy told you not to be alone with him. But your roommate will come home from work before midnight, so you don’t worry about it too much. 

“Are you really a virgin, E?” You ask, watching him look over your worksheet, having insisted on helping you with your math assignments. 

“Yeah,” he answers nervously, ears turning red and face flushing from embarrassment. 

“But you’re so cute!” You say, moving closer to him on your bed, your papers falling off from the movement.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, staring at you wide-eyed.

“Totally,” you answer, reaching out to play with a curl just behind his ear, arm resting on his shoulder. “You know, I can be your first, if you want.”

“Really?” Ethan asks, already getting hard from your offer. 

“Mhm,” you answer with a hum, throwing the assignments in his lap to the side.

You straddle his thighs, sitting in his lap and leaning forward to kiss him. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind. He whines when you nip at his bottom lip, moaning when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth. Your arms rest on his shoulders, hands gently holding his face as the kiss deepens.

His hands squeeze your hips, attempting to slow your movements as you grind in his lap. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, his own hips moving up to meet yours in search of more friction. When you pull away, he whines, but is quickly silenced when you pull off your tight crop top. He stares at your bare chest in awe, letting you pull off his shirt as his mind catches up to what’s happening. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks before you can take off his jeans, his thumbs nervously rubbing over the fat of your hips.

“Sure,” you answer, your wide eyes showing you weren’t expecting the request. 

Ethan’s hands travel from your hips up your sides, his warm touch leaving goosebumps in his path. Gently, he cups your breasts, fondling the soft mounds and eliciting quiet sounds from you. His thumbs ghost over your nipples, and they pebble from his barely there touch. The whole time, your hips haven’t stopped moving, now moving faster in his lap. Spurred on by your sounds and growing neediness, one of his hands dipping past the waistband of your short shorts and underwear. 

“Is this okay?” Ethan asks, fingers moving through your slick folds.

“Yes,” you moan breathlessly, hips stuttering when he brushes over your clit.

It’s maddening, the way he touches you, amateur but just skilled enough to rile you up. His hand and your panties are soaked, your hole achingly empty, you decide he can skip the rest of the foreplay. It’s supposed to be about him, anyway, you tell yourself, pulling away from him to take your shorts off, and he quickly copies your actions. His dick is pretty, trimmed curls neatly trailing from his lower stomach to the base, thick, long, and you hope you get the chance to taste him, maybe in the morning. 

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your tight walls envelop him as you lower yourself on his cock. 

“E, look at me, baby,” you say, a hand in his hair and the other holding his face, encouraging him to open his eyes. 

He whimpers when you start moving, shallowly bouncing in his lap, glossy eyes watching you take him. Your stomach twists in pleasure, his tip kissing that spongey spot deep inside you every time your ass meets his thighs, clenching around him when you hear him whine after your grip on his curls tightens. Ethan feels like he’s going to melt into the bed, watching a creamy ring form at the base of his dick as you ride him. You look so hot, tits bouncing as you move, and you feel so good, he’s embarrassed when he tells you he’s going to cum. 

“Shh, it’s okay, go ahead and cum,” you reassure him, not stopping your movements as he begins to babble incoherently to announce his release.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest as he finishes inside you. The air is warm, only the sounds of your heavy breathing can be heard as he recovers from his orgasm. As his mind clears up, Ethan begins to panic, realizing you didn’t get to cum. 

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t–” he begins to say, but you interrupt him. 

“It’s okay, this was about you,” you tell him, but he won’t have it. 

“Just please, let me?” He asks, moving you to lay you on your back, moving down the bed in between your thighs.

“Okay,” you say, letting him spread your legs to slot himself between them. 

He licks a broad stripe through your folds, and if he wasn’t eating you so messily you’d maybe be a little grossed out by him essentially eating his cum out of you. Despite his lack of experience, he’s enthusiastic, and your hand quickly flies to grip his mop of brown curls as you begin to buck your hips against his face. You’d feel bad for how tightly you hold his hair, but the noises he lets out against your pussy tells you he actually enjoys it.

“Ethan!” You squeal his name, feeling his tongue explore your hole, and your thighs nearly closing around his head.

Your legs are shaking on either side of his head, and he thinks you’re getting close. He holds your hips down, keeping you from grinding against his face, allowing him to roughly circle your clit with his thumb. Your hips jerk against his hold, seeking pleasure as the knot in your stomach begins to unwind. So lost in your building orgasm, you don’t realize you’re practically suffocating Ethan between your thighs, not that he minds. He would gladly accept death if it meant he’d die with your thighs wrapped around his head, listening to your muffled cries of pleasure. 

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” You ask once you come down from your high, moving away from him to out from between your legs.

“I’m fine! Would it be okay if we did that again?” He asks, and with a quick look at his lap you realize he’d gotten hard again while eating you out. 

“Of course,” you answer, a smile stretching across your lips as you push him onto his back.