#your work is genuinely delicious

[merakiui]

Absolutely love the possessive ex Scaramouche ramble in tags, please feed us more of that.

Gladly!! :D

(cw: yandere, extremely toxic ex scara, modern au, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, coercion, obsession, forced marriage, violent/suicidal threats, manipulation, mentions of intoxication/alcohol, implied self-harm)

The two of you were what everyone calls ‘high school sweethearts.’ You met him in the cafeteria when the both of you were first years. Despite the scowl etched on his face, he looked lonely sitting all by himself while everyone was finding tables, old and new friends gathering in groups. He’d ignored you, even scooting further away when you’d attempt to move closer. Even though he seemed so averse to you, you remained, silently eating your lunch. Neither of you said anything, but you did introduce yourself. He scoffed under his breath.

You started to sit next to him for every lunch, and he continued to give you the silent treatment. You never pressed him for conversation, instead choosing to enjoy silence while you ate and admired him from the sidelines. He never looked at you, always facing forwards and toying with his chopsticks, bending them so far until they were ready to snap. Eventually, he seemed to grow accustomed to this routine because many weeks into the semester he turned to address you.

“Why do you always sit by me? Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think anyone’s as mysterious as you are.”

“‘Mysterious…’ Yeah, whatever.”

That seemed to be the catalyst because, as sardonic as he was, he’d begun talking to you. And it wasn’t long until he started to warm up to you every lunch until the both of you were exchanging lighthearted banter. Your friendship would only grow from this point onwards until, at the end of your first year during a study session to prepare for finals, where you were both pulling an all-nighter at your house, he’d asked you out. And you said yes, and the both of you had gone from best friends to lovers within the span of a year. The both of you were each other’s first partner, so it made doing things as a couple even more exciting because neither of you had any experience with dates or holding hands or kissing.

Kuni wasn’t a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was very loyal and sweet. He’d stand up for you if anyone was being rude to you or scrutinizing your relationship with hateful eyes. The two of you were nearly inseparable. When you weren’t spending time together in school, you were out doing things together. And when you couldn’t meet up in person, you’d text or call, sometimes talking late into the evening about all sorts of things. You were so immersed in him that you failed to notice the red flags slowly raising over time. But looking back there were a few notable ones.

He never invited you to his house. In fact, you’d never even met his parents, whereas he’d been to your home so often that your family practically became his own. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his family, and if you tried to suggest going to his house for dinner so that he could introduce you to them he was quick to change the subject. For a while you’d push this, more curious than concerned, but eventually you’d drop it when it became clear that he wasn’t going to divulge anything on the matter. That had stung, but you snuffed those feelings in favor of focusing on other aspects of your relationship.

The second red flag was just how clingy he became when the both of you were in your third year, having been together for two solid years. You never noticed it before because you loved him, but when friends had pointed out how attached he seemed—and it was to rather unhealthy levels, according to their observations—to the point where you were the only person he’d ever formed a bond with while at school you started to see the cracks in what felt like the perfect relationship. He’d text you every single day, at every single hour, all the time. He’d call you nonstop, even more so when you didn’t immediately pick up.

The third red flag coincided with the second. When you couldn’t make it to your phone, he was quick to blame himself and those around him for being responsible for your deteriorating relationship. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did those guys bother you again? They probably told you some stupid shit about me, right? Don’t listen to them. Hey, you’re not mad, right? Call me back. I need to talk to you. Just text me when you can, okay? (Name), please don’t leave me. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong. Just promise you’ll stay. Messages of these kinds were what you could expect to receive from him. He’d fluctuate between self-loathing to loathing those around him within seconds, shoving blame onto classmates who’d bully him for being that “weird emo kid with too many piercings” and anyone else who tried to, in his words, “come between you and me.”

By the end of your third year, you started to fall out of love. He was so very dedicated to this relationship, evidenced by how much effort and care he’d put into it, but his clingy behavior was stifling. You’d lost some of your own friends because he chased them away, and it felt like you couldn’t do anything without him breathing down your neck. If you wanted to go anywhere with a friend or two, Kuni had to be there to accompany you. If you looked at another for too long, he’d think you were cheating. If you didn’t text or call him at certain times, if you failed to pick up, or—Archons forbid—you left him on seen, he’d spiral.

Kuni had this habit of sounding dangerously self-destructive when he feared you were being unfaithful or he thought you were going to break up with him, which meant you’d have to sit on the phone for hours convincing him that you loved him, that you’d never leave him, that you’d always be here for him, that you were sorry for not responding, that he needs to calm down and please, please, please don’t do anything rash. Those phone calls were always so stressful. You cried a lot; you’d beg him to put the knife away when he’d threaten to use it on himself, on you, on anyone who might try to take you from him. And, after a few hours of this, he’d be back to his usual self, as if a switch had been flipped. You could hear his adoring smile in his voice when he spoke, when he’d lovingly whisper into the phone, “I’m happy you’re mine. I love you so much.” And you’d shakily parrot the affirmation, too frazzled to say or do anything else.

One of your best friends Rosalyne, who you’d befriended in the midst of all of this, had been so supportive the minute you spilled the truth to her. Kuni hated her the most because she wasn’t afraid of him. Because she’d shut him down when he tried to pull you away from her. Because she wouldn’t approve of any of his toxicity. Rosalyne would take you on shopping sprees, brunch dates, and jogs at the local park. She was plenty of good to outshine Kuni’s bad, and the more time you spent with her the clearer your head would become. The both of you had plenty of sleepovers together, and she let you rant your heart out while she listened. She’d tell you to break up with him, but you’d agonized over how terrifying that would be. You couldn’t bear to tell Kuni the truth—that you wanted to separate because things had turned so rotten—because you were so scared. Scared of him and what he might do.

Scared that if he really did take a blade to himself it would be your fault. He told you that a lot. That it would be your fault if he did anything. That his blood would be on your hands. You believed him every time.

By your final year, you’d already had a plan for university outlined and you’d started applying to a few in advance. You never told Kuni about any of them because you worried he might apply to each one in hopes of going to the same school as you. And when there was the dance for the graduating class and Kuni had asked you to it, you’d told him you were going with Rosalyne and a few other friends as a group. He didn’t like this, as expected, but you’d been so sick of him and his behaviors that you snapped and spilled everything to him. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him that you were done with the relationship and that you never wanted to see him again.

He looked as if he could lunge at you and tear you to bloody ribbons at any moment.

You graduated single and so very refreshed, and your summer had been filled with friends. Kuni didn’t message you at all, which was surprising considering you were certain he’d spam you relentlessly after the break-up. But he never did. In fact, you never saw him again. Graduation had come and gone, and now that you could recover from such a terrible relationship he was becoming less of a burden for you. For a while you were anxious. You kept expecting to receive a phone call or to see some news about Kuni, but neither ever came. Rosalyne told you to stop thinking about him. It would only make you even more paranoid and that wouldn’t do your mental health any good. You were so grateful to have her in your life, but most importantly you were glad Kuni failed to scare her away.

Now you’re a second year in college and things have only gotten so much better for you. You and Rosalyne still keep in touch despite going to different schools. She’d gone to a university in Snezhnaya, while you enrolled in one in Sumeru, and you’ve blotted Kuni from your mind. You’ve made a fresh group of friends while attending classes: criminal justice major Shikanoin Heizou, creative writing major Kaedehara Kazuha, musical therapy major Venti, botany major Tighnari, and so many more wonderful people who have all welcomed you into their circles.

So when Venti drags a familiar face to your usual weekend outing, which is really just a retreat to the forest for drinking and smoking, creeping cold settles into your bones. He looks awkward with Venti’s arm slung around him as the more bubbly of the two drags him towards the bonfire, where you sit with the others roasting marshmallows for s’mores, and it’s a look that is so uncharacteristic on him. What’s even weirder is how friendly everyone greets him—as if they all know him—and you’re completely lost when they turn to you and ask if you’ve met Kunikuzushi.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a pleasant smile and extending your hand for a stiff handshake, which Venti snickers at. “No, I’ve never met him before.”

Apparently, he’s in one of Venti’s classes—it’s a course he’s taking solely because he needs the credits. Tighnari knows him because they usually work the same shifts at the campus café. Kazuha knows him from his linguistics and philosophy classes. Heizou’s ate with him in the dining hall plenty of times now and they’re also taking the same psychology class. It feels so genuine and yet so fake at the same time. Too perfectly manufactured to be a mere coincidence. But you do your best to push past these suspicions, and when he sits across from you, smiling at you and saying how nice it is to meet you, the warping flames paint his face in devilish shadows. That’s what you think he is when he acts like a completely different person from how he was when you dated: a devil who’s good at being kind and outgoing, noisy and abrupt, and always so foul-mouthed, but in a way that makes him charming. Your friends are so enthralled. They love him and his sense of humor. They love his quick wit. They love how fun he is. And suddenly weekends spent in the forest aren’t so enjoyable.

You do your best to overcome your doubts. For a few months you’re on edge. How he even found you is a mystery. Surely he wouldn’t stalk you and enroll in the same college just to get revenge or…whatever vengeance he wants from you. But when he treats you to coffee, when he brings you and the others pastries every other morning, when he invites the lot of you to study at the library, when he tells the funniest stories while crossed and everyone’s giggling like schoolgirls it really feels like he’s…healthier. Like he’s turned a fresh page in his life and is starting anew. Like he’s changed for the better.

Perhaps he just doesn’t remember you. You’ve changed your style over the years, so it’s possible he’s simply forgotten your image and can’t place memories to your name. Eventually, after soothing yourself with these theories, you begin to accept his presence in the group. He fits in so flawlessly, as if he’s a missing piece to the puzzle, and you can’t believe you’re admitting this, but you like this version of Kuni. He’s confident, not cocky. He’s kind, not rude. He gives everyone space. In fact, he rarely texts frequently in the group chat. And he’s funny! He’s so funny. You don’t think the Kuni from your past was ever as funny as the Kuni who regales everyone with lighthearted stories of how he once took in a stray cat that turned out to belong to his neighbor or how his old job had the strangest customers.

Maybe he truly did change. Maybe all of these coincidences really are coincidences. Maybe it’s for the best that you leave the past in the past.

Finals season looms, and the group hasn’t had time to meet up outside of class. Venti has tried to persuade everyone to come study at his apartment. His roommate won’t care (yes, he will. Xiao hates it when everyone gets blackout drunk and he has to wake everyone come morning), but if you’ve known Venti long enough you’ll know there is no studying that happens at these study sessions. This is probably the reason why he’s had to repeat a year.

With everyone’s schedules packed with academics, it’s difficult to find a time where everyone can get together to study. You think you might just be better off studying on your own, but Kuni’s message of you wanna pull an all-nighter for these lame af finals together?? accompanied with a photo of snacks and coffee, any thoughts of studying alone instantly vanish.

This is how you find yourself in his dorm, sprawled on his bed while he sits on the floor, whacking your dangling feet when they get too close to him. His roommate Albedo is currently out tutoring a few students at the library and won’t be back until much later, so it’s just you, Kuni, and a pile of textbooks and notes. You’ve hung out with Kuni a few times and he was great company during each. You’ve also fallen asleep in his dorm before, when you’d come over to binge a show the both of you enjoy, and you’d lost track of time and had slipped into a dream halfway through the marathon. You’d woken the next morning with Kuni looming over you, grinning deviously and holding an uncapped marker. He’d leaned down and whispered, “You drool in your sleep,” and you’d swatted at him and groused about how you were sleeping so peacefully when he just had to ruin your sleep (and your face) with his antics. And then there was that time when you were so drunk at that one party and you could hardly stand, he’d been there to help. He even stayed with you for the rest of that night, offering his assistance when you became nauseous or needed water or a snack until you passed out.

Despite your initial apprehensions, you consider him a friend. He’s no one nearly as close as Rosalyne or your other friends. He’s just a mutual friend, someone you’ll spend time with when you feel like it, but you don’t truly need him in your life. That, and part of you still struggles to trust him after all of the stress and unhealthy obsession he subjected you to.

“Kuni,” you whine, lifting your head from the textbook. “Can you get me some water? I’m thirsty.”

“Do I look like your maid?” he snaps, immersed in organizing his notes. “Get it yourself.”

“I’m picturing it now and you’re in a frilly dress and—”

“Forget I asked.” Setting his notebook down with an exaggerated sigh, he crosses the distance to the mini fridge and withdraws a bottle of water.

Grinning, you slide off of his bed and reach for it with a grateful hum. He smirks and takes a step back, holding it away from you.

“Seriously…”

Rolling your eyes, you lunge for it and he side-steps you with the practiced grace of a cat. You brace yourself against the wall and swipe at him. Again, he dodges, unscrewing the cap and shaking the bottle teasingly.

“I think I’ll take a sip for myself. All of this studying has left me so parched.”

“No fair! That’s mine!”

“Is it?” He pulls it away from his lips to observe the bottle and feigns surprise. “That’s weird. I don’t see your name on it.”

“Look closer!” you exclaim, but just as he’s about to humor you you pounce, tackling him to the ground—there’s a beanbag cushion that breaks your fall—and the water spills all over the both of you in the midst of the tumble. A slew of colorful words stick in Kuni’s throat and your laughter rings out melodiously. You seize his wrist and hold it down while reaching for the bottle in his other hand, where there’s still some water left. He struggles halfheartedly, relinquishing the bottle with a disinterested scoff, and you pull away from him to down what’s left.

While crushing the plastic bottle into a ball, you notice something on your palm—the palm that had grabbed Kuni’s wrist—and it takes a minute before the skin tone-colored substance registers in your mind.

Concealer.

You peer at him and notice that he’s cradling his arm, and confusion sprouts.

“So funny,” he spits with a hollow laugh. “You owe me a new beanbag if this one’s ruined.”

“Hey, hold on. What’s with the—”

“Forget it. You got your water, so let’s get back to studying. Or do you no longer want to be a perfect student?”

Without thinking, you grab his arm as he’s standing and when you look at his forearm you can see where the water’s started to wash the concealer away. Curiously, you scrub at it while he tries to yank his arm away, but when you unearth a dozen scars littering his wrist and climbing the length of his arm that creeping cold from before returns.

And suddenly you’re brought back to those phone calls—the ones where he’d threaten suicide and murder—and you stumble back as if you’ve been burned, half-expecting to hear those threats once more. Kuni’s staring at his wrist, his features twisted in grim disapproval, and for a moment you think he looks…hurt. Or maybe that’s sadness you see. Whatever emotion it was, it doesn’t linger because a quiet chuckle slips past his lips, and the sound is so very frigid it has your blood crystallizing.

“It really hurt when you said you never wanted to see me again.” Kuni peers down at you, and his eyes that had once been so bright and filled with light are dull and dark. “But nothing hurts more than loving you.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words won’t come. You’re rooted to the ground, horror slinking through your body and rendering you immovable. Your heart is in your throat, pounding so loudly it’s practically a drum, and a cold sweat washes over you.

“Each time I found myself hating you, I thought it was odd because I love you so much. I can’t possibly hate the one I’ve loved all this time.” He scowls. “But loving you hurts. Loving you feels like chewing glass and drinking poison. Loving you isn’t fair because while you moved forward with your ‘friends,’ I was forced to stay behind and pick up the pieces of what was left of you. So for every moment I couldn’t stand you, I tallied it on myself so that I’ll never forget the times I loved you so much I hated you.”

This can’t be happening, you’re thinking, curling your hands into trembling fists. He changed. He changed, right? This isn’t the same Kuni from before. This isn’t…

“And when I saw how well you seemed to be doing without me, I hated you even more.” Without warning, he’s grabbed your arm and hoisted you up. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes—not that anything could when he’s pulled a switchblade from his pocket and poised the pointed tip at your jugular. “You have poor taste in friends. Those guys suck.”

Tutting, he shakes his head at you like a parent might when scolding a child, and says, “Do you know how fucking tiring it was pretending? You think I care about pastries and stupid campfire stories? You really think I’d ever want to associate myself with that sorry lot?”

“K-Kuni, please let go of me. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were—I’m sorry. So please just…”

“And then the first time you see me after all these years apart and you had the gall to lie to my face! ‘I’ve never met him before.’ Bullshit. You just didn’t want any of your loser friends to know our history, right? Because you’re ashamed to have known me, right?”

“That’s not it! I… I was just—I didn’t… I was… I just…”

“I… I… I…” he mocks, shoving you down onto the beanbag. It dips under the sudden weight, and you sink further into it when he points the blade at you. “Stop tripping over your tongue. I should be the one near tears! You cast me aside and then forgot all about me. You abandoned me when I needed you most.” His voice cracks at that last sentence, and your heart skips erratically.

“That’s not what happened! We needed space. I needed space. You were being too—” You stop yourself, unsure of how to phrase it. Too controlling? Too dangerous? Too scary?

“Lucky for you, I’m willing to overlook these past...slights.” The blade twirls effortlessly in his grasp, and you heave a relieved breath when he’s no longer pointing it in your direction. “Marry me and we’ll forget all about the past. We’ll start over.”

His demand almost stops your heart altogether. You stare up at him, mouth agape, and mumble a disbelieving, “What?”

“You heard me.” He seems to soften with his next words, and for a moment he looks and sounds like the Kuni who hangs out with you and your friends. The harmlessly fun Kuni who always takes such good care of you. “You’re the only one I’ll ever love, so let’s get married.”

“K-Kuni, I can’t... I really can’t...”

Within seconds the blade has found itself on his wrist, pressing into delicate flesh. Not enough to cut, but if he applies more force you’ll definitely see blood. You choke on a horrified gasp.

“What was that?” He raises his brow at you, challenging you with a calm smile.

Your mind reels in an effort to conjure a plan. What can you even do? If you take the blade from him, will he turn his anger on you? Will you have to wrestle him into submission? And if you do manage to get out of his dorm, will anyone believe you? He’s painted himself in such a pleasant light. Your friends love and trust him! So what can you say? And if there isn’t any solid proof, no one will even entertain bringing the authorities into this mess.

“I’m waiting, (Name). Are you really going to make me add another tally? Do you really want me to hate you again? Oh, but maybe I should start marking you! We can add a slice for each time you failed to love me. That way we’ll both look like used cutting boards.”

You need help, you want to say, but the words escape you.

Instead, you nod hastily and say breathlessly, “Okay, yes! I’ll marry you!” Swallowing your horror, you glance at the blade as it’s lifted from his skin. Thankfully, there isn’t a cut. “I... I’ll marry you, Kuni. So... So please don’t hurt yourself. Please.”

It feels like you’ve been strangled for an eternity, so when he finally pockets the blade the air in your lungs returns and you collapse against the beanbag, chest rising and falling in short, panicked breaths. 

“Good.” He bends down to your height, grips your chin with cold fingers, and forces you to meet his adoring stare. “We’ll look at rings tomorrow. Or maybe you’d prefer bracelets instead? I can be flexible but only for you, so you’d better be grateful.”

You swallow rising bile and nod. “T-Thank you.” You’re not sure why you’re thanking him when he hardly deserves it, but it feels like the right thing to say to ease the tension.

Kuni’s eyes sparkle, no longer a void of endless darkness, and when he leans in to capture your lips in his your heart sinks. You really can’t run from your past, can you?

[gigamuffin]

[swordbards]

did you guys know that, well, the cruelty is the point

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: pantie stealing and sniffing, masturbation, Simon has a crush on you, kinda softie! Simon

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who felt guilt pooling in his chest as he fisted his leaking cock violently, a pair of your pink frilly thongs that he pinched from laundry basket in you house was pressed against his nose, inhaling lungfuls of your soury scent. Bright blush covered his normally pale cheeks, honey-coloured eyes rolling back as Riley’s back arched, series of low groans and stifled moans slipping past his lips as hot cum shot out of his overstimulated cock, landing in small puddles on his pubic and tummy.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who could barely look you in the eyes the whole next week out of sheer shame and embarrassment, brushing you off whenever you tried talking to him. You pouted, not getting such wanted attention from your older brother’s broody best friend, just clicking your tongue as he openly ignored you, finally giving up and turning around on your heels, marching off to your room, snacks and mug of tea in your hands. If only you could see Simon’s eyes lingering longingly on the soft slope of your ass, trying to burn the image in his brain, you small booty shorts doing nothing to hide delicious plumpness of it.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who clenched his teeth tightly, breathing deeply through his nose to try and control himself as you sat on an arm of the armchair he was settled in, drunkenly babbling about some new movie you’ve been meaning to watch. He desperately tried not to look at your tits as you leant against the back of that damned armchair, your chest poking out of the deep cut of your crop top barely ten centimetres away from Simon’s head, basically inviting him to bury his face in beautiful softness of your boobs. But he just gripped his beer tighter, looking strictly in front of him and nodding absentmindedly at your words, subtly shuffling his hoody down to hide a growing tent in his pants.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon on whom you can always count. You need a drive back home after going out for drinks? He’s grabbing his car keys and telling you he’ll be there in a few minutes. Some weirdo has been bothering you at work/uni? Simon is discreetly asking bastard’s name as to not rise any suspicions in you, just to have a little friendly chat with him a bit later, making sure to break duchebag’s nose so he doesn’t stick it into your business anymore. There’s something off with your car and you need to get it fixed? How good that Simon is a handyman, bringing your car back to life not worse than any mechanic would (and he’s definitely not flexing his stupidly big biceps while doing it).

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who knew better than to make a move on you. He knew you liked him, and he liked you too (more like was totally obsessed). But he valued his best friend too much, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t appreciate it if Simon fucked his little sister.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who realised that he was absolutely, utterly, totally fucked as he watched you and your older brother roughhousing around the kitchen, bickering and play-fighting - your smile was so bright and warm, making him feel hot like sun in the middle of August, your loud laughter made his chest buzz with something soft and Riley felt as if he was about to pass out because of the flow of softness he felt for you that moment. Soon your eyes met his, mischievous smirk curled your pretty lips as you threw a pillow at him, surely dragging Simon into your little brawl, creating a huge mess for which all three of you will surely get a good scolding from your mom.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who tried to distance himself from you because you deserved more than him. He genuinely did try to ignore all your soft smiles and fleeting touches, the way you batted you pretty eyelashes as you listened to him explaining something to you or the way you would nibble on your bottom lip as your eyes wandered up and down his torso as he wore one of his compression shirts. Simon did try his best to save you from himself, but all of his resolve vanished completely and utterly the moment you got brave enough to stand to your tippy toes and press a tentative kiss to his chapped lips.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who scooped you up in his arms, giving you no chance to escape as he deepened the kiss, moaning quietly into your mouth as you let his tongue in, greedy hands roaming up and down your body, feeling all the curves and dips of it - just like he dreamt of doing past few years. Simon barely registered pressing you against the wall, meaty forearms boxing you as his torso pressed against yours, grinding his boner against your tummy, goosebumps running up his spine as he felt your small arms gripping on his sides, pressing him closer to yourself.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who broke off your kiss, a silver strand of saliva connected your lips as he gazed deeply in your eyes, blush on your face made him feel warm and proud. He pressed his lips against your forehead, nosing at your hair and inhaling sweet scent of your shampoo. Withdrawing back for just a few centimetres he muttered in his raspy breathy voice “Go out with me”

Likes, reblogs and comment are highly appreciated, give writers some love!🩷 I’m thinking about making part 2, let me know what you think<3

[strawbeerossi]

The Ballad Of Dr. Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.

Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking. 

In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.

He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.

You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.

It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips. 

What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.

His hands on-

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you. 

“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today. 

The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.

There was no clean getaway.

“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”

Fuck.

Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”

“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.” 

He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class. 

Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university. 

“Really?” 

“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke. 

There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.” 

The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment. 

“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his. 

You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.

The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down. 

“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point. 

The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips. 

“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.

This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut. 

“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.

His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.

“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating. 

With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open. 

“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded. 

“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan. 

As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.

There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.

Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.

Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did. 

As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Deal.”

[rineptune]

hello! can i get a lucifer x fallen angel!reader, that is maybe seen as another parental figure for charlie, and there’s some jealousy from luci in the beginning before he realizes how much care reader has towards charlie? if that makes sense?

hell’s greatest parent.

summary: in which charlie thinks of you as a parent figure and once again lucifer’s genuinely distraught and scared that his one and only daughter would no longer need him.

a/n: he’s jus a little insecure, but lucifer’s doing his best and that’s what matters!!

lucifer could feel it. an irritated, uptight smile threatening to make itself known in his face.

“what was that, kiddo?” lucifer asks charlie.

“yn’s going to teach me how to make pancakes!” charlie answers. “it’s a great bonding activity that enhances familial relationships. they told me all about how pancakes made in heaven are soo different from the ones made here— i just had to ask if they could teach me!”

“she’s quite the persistent lady, your highness,” you chuckle. “i’m assuming she got that from you?”

“...yes,” he grumbles, straightening his posture. “but, charlie! why didn’t you just call me? no offense, but i make out-of-this-hell pancakes, too!”

“because, dad! you weren’t awake yet, and i wanted to surprise everyone here in the hotel with heaven’s recipe for a devilishly delicious breakfast,” she preened, hands clasped together. stars are shimmering in her eyes, possibly a candidate to outshimmer the pentagram in the skies.

lucifer sighs, defeated. “oh, alright... but i’ll watch.”

“ok! this could be a refresher memory for you,” she beams. “what first, yn?”

“well, to start, we need to wear our aprons.”

you held up one for charlie, the fabric littered with small red hearts for its pattern, which she gingerly took with delighted awe. you also offered one to lucifer, but instead of accepting what you had brought with you, he simply snapped his fingers, and with what’s left of his angelic magic, he conjured one of his own, which he wore with a smug grin.

“how efficient.”

“heh, i could do a lot more than that,” he proudly says.

“i would never doubt it, your highness.”

your indifference to lucifer’s (perfectly wrapped under the radar) jealousy is just perfect. not only did he deal with the radio demon, who had the balls to even duel him in a sing-off—now he had to win a cooking contest, too?

it’s crazy!

crazy if he doesn’t participate in it and properly show you why he’s the boss!

“and careful to put the batter, charlie,” you guide her hand to pour the batter onto the heated pan.

“whoa—.. i did it!” she cheers.

“good job, sweetie,” he tells her.

lucifer is on charlie’s left, observing how his daughter works herself around the kitchen. he had to admit, you were a pretty good teacher; that even he learned a thing or two about making pancakes.

would you look at that?

lucifer learning new things that he already thought he knew.

“now, what would you want to go with your breakfast, charlie?” you ask.

“there’s bloodied-sweet syrup, mini fresh eyeballs that a friend of alastor brought in earlier; oh��� ah, here it is,” you pulled out maple and strawberry syrup along with some butter and fruits— actual fresh fruits that you managed to smuggle in your bag before the fall.

“what?! they actually have maple syrup, and not stale-oak sap?”

“yes, they do,” you chuckle. “would you like to try them?”

“do i? i’m so happy to!”

lucifer sits at the end of the table as charlie decorates her pancakes with the toppings and condiments of her liking. a smile is seen on his face.

he remembers the time when it used to be like this, simple and sweet. how times have gone by, really.

“pancakes?”

your offer brought him out of his trance of thought. a breakfast shaped into one of his favorite things in the world.

a duck with a little apple slice on its head.

“thank you, though you didn’t have to go through the trouble of...” lucifer’s absolutely speechless, and if it weren’t for the façade he has on, you bet your wings he would’ve been jumping up and down in joy. “serving it in this shape.”

“it’s no trouble at all, really.” you smiled.

and holy hell does that smile ease his worries.

“dad, oh my gosh! thesh are twe besht pancwakes, ever! like, weally—the absholoo best!” charlie says, words somewhat audible because she had her mouth full.

“charlie, dear, don’t talk while your mouth is full; otherwise you’ll choke,” you sigh, yet there was a smile on your lips, taking initiative to wipe away the excess syrup on the corner of her mouth with a damp cloth.

charlie giggles sheepishly, nodding.

“than’ weu!”

the realization sets in when lucifer sees this. that you actually care for charlie and are not there to replace him totally. he’s reassured, and happy as he finally takes a bite of his warm, delicious breakfast.

[joelsgreys]

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 

Could Frank actually be right? 

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” 

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 

But he was yours too.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tommy miller

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak

word count: 2.7k

summary: joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

warnings: gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

a/n: this work was commissioned through kofi by the lovely @losergurlsstuff, thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

**gif made by the amazing @pedgito thank you so much dear!! dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Everything has been amazing since you and Joel started dating. To you, he was perfect. The perfect man. The perfect partner. The perfect person. You are forever grateful to whatever god made your roads cross. You have no idea what you’d be doing without him. You’ve never felt so cared for in your entire life. What he doesn’t say with words he shows with what he does and today is no exception. 

“What do you want for your birthday?” 

You smile and shake your head, his head is laying right above your stomach, his one hand under your shirt, caressing the warm skin. “I have everything I need.” 

“Just tell me.” 

“I really don’t want anything, Joel. Especially not from you.” 

His hand on your skin stills, looking up, you giggle at the way he’s frowning. Shocked. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means, you dork,” you lean and brush your lips against his forehead. “That you already give me everything. Being with you is enough.” 

Joel’s eyes narrow. A pleasurable shudder rolls through your spine, you adore it when he looks at you like that. It reminds you of all the times you pushed his buttons, resulting in a delightful time. 

“I have an idea what you might want.” 

“And what’s that mister know-it-all?” 

“Tommy.” 

“W—What?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, your palms suddenly cold and sweaty. His younger brother’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. Joel spreads his fingers across your waist, gently, he squeezes. 

“It’s a’right, sweetheart. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot and well, I think it might be a good gift for your birthday.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

You genuinely don’t. Also, he’s been thinking about it? The inside of your stomach feels like lead. It’s true that once upon a time you thought how it would be with Tommy—but that was before Joel. And after you two started dating well. . . sure maybe your eyes did linger a bit, maybe you leaned a little too close when he whispered something in your ear during a party. . . You genuinely thought Joel wouldn’t notice. 

“I haven’t asked him yet,” he says, thoughtful. “But I was thinkin’ of indulgin’ your curiosities.” 

You‘re still not quite sure what he means by that. Your guilt gnaws at the walls of your stomach. Joel gives you everything, yet you make him feel like he doesn’t. Your eyes move away, falling to the corner of the wall. You can’t bear to look at him. He deserves better. 

“Hey,” he says, hand cupping your jaw and pulling you back. “Don’t cry.” 

“I’m not crying.” 

“You look like you’re about to,” he cracks a small smile. “I don’t mind, darlin’. It’s just a fantasy ain’t it? I know that you’re mine.” 

“I am,” you say tearfully. “I am and always will be.” 

“And I’m yours. I just want to spoil you as best as I can, sweetheart. And this seemed doable.” 

“Why do you even think Tommy would agree to this?” 

“Oh he will,” he says with a grin that makes your cheeks grow warm. “Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 

You nod but doubt still taints your expression. You don’t doubt Joel’s words, but no one can deny that this might be a bit odd. You’re not entirely sure Tommy will be on board. But you trust Joel, so you don’t question it. 

Despite all the doubt, and tension in your muscles, excitement slowly brews deep within you. 

“Joel, I’m not so sure about this.” 

His head turns harshly to face his brother. There’s no way he’s backing out now, not when they were only inches away from the fucking bedroom door. 

Then again, he does understand. He’s ain’t stupid. But Joel had seen the way Tommy looked at you, the way his eyes would do a subtle sweep and linger on your ass whenever you walked out of a room. “I ain’t gonna suddenly choke you out if that’s what got your feathers ruffled.” 

Tommy shifts from one foot to the other. Joel’s not used to seeing his brother so deep in though. He fears that if he thinks a little harder he might break his brain. With a huff of breath escaping his lips, Joel throws a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing his attention. 

“Look, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her, if at any point you decide you don’t wanna do this, just say so and we’ll stop. No one is gonna get offended.” 

Tommy visibly relaxes at Joel’s words. He nods, lips a tight line. It reminds Joel when he taught him how to ride a bike when they were kids. He had the same expression.

“A’right then, now that that’s settled, let’s not keep her waitin’ anymore.” 

Without warning he opens the door and pushes Tommy in. If it was any other situation Joel would’ve laughed at the way Tommy tripped over his own feet. But his attention is immediately dragged to the bed you’re perched on. His mouth waters. He knew you were going to get dressed, well undressed in this situation, but he hadn’t thought about what you would put on. Joel’s eyes briefly flicker to Tommy, he seems just as in shock. It’s hard not to be with what you’re wearing. 

The fabric is a luxurious, deep blue, reminiscent of the darkest hours when the stars come out to play. The material is silky and smooth against the skin, offering a touch of elegance and comfort. And he would know. It’s his favorite damn set. Shimmering sparkles that adorn the fabric, mimic the stars scattered across the night sky. These sparkles catch the light of the scented candle you’ve lit, creating a subtle and enchanting glow.

Joel gradually meets your gaze. As soon as he does he knows you’ve done it on purpose. His lips quirk up, amusement growing in his eyes, you’d pay for this little stunt. 

“Wow,” Tommy exhales and takes a step forward. “You look amazin’ sweetheart.” 

You seem a little out of breath already, it’s going to be fun to watch you crumble. Though Joel isn’t quite sure how he feels about his brother being the one doing it. 

“Thanks,” you answer, unsure. 

There’s a lingering tension in the air and Joel almost rolls his eyes at them both. Almost. 

“A’right then,” he pushes Tommy until he’s at the edge of the bed and takes a seat on the chair he brought in this morning. “Stop bein’ shy now. Tommy, you’re her gift, are you sure you want to be the person responsible for her havin’ a shit birthday?” 

Tommy’s chest raises, “N-No.” 

“Then what are you waitin’ for?” 

“Jesus Joel, it’s not like I'm bringin’ her a new plant, give us a second.” 

Joel grins at the way he snaps and Tommy only shakes his head, turning to you and finally focusing on the right thing. You. 

Tommy tenderly presses both palms on each side of your face, thumbs moving in circles. Your nipples are already hard, he can see them like little diamonds showing up through the fabric. His fingers twitch. Patience isn’t something that he has, but he’ll try. For you. 

Your lips part with a soft gasp as Tommy finally brings you in, their lips brushing before full-on pressing against one another. Joel doesn’t miss the way your chest heaves. Your hands fist his shirt and Tommy tilts his head in response, Joel hears your little moans, his own cock gradually hardening under his jeans. 

Fuck, you look too good in that lingerie set. It’s hard just to sit and watch. 

“Take off his shirt,” Joel grunts, sounding more cross than he intended. You nod, but not without giving him a wary look first. When Tommy’s shirt hits the floor, the younger Miller roughly grabs your chin and turns your head so you’re facing Joel. His spine straightens. 

“You ain’t the one given’ orders,” Tommy says. “If you want me to make her feel good, you’re goin’ to shut up and watch, understood?” 

Joel’s mouth goes dry but he nods anyway. His eyes narrow as Tommy’s smile grows, his hand slips between your legs and begins to stroke you through your panties. Joel’s breath hitches, his gaze landing where you grow wetter and wetter. 

“Who’s in charge baby, tell him.” 

Your hips grind down to his hand, “You are.” 

“Well that wasn’t much of a challenge,” he chuckles, eyes finding Joel’s again. “Don’t you think you’re bad girl sayin’ that in front of your daddy?” 

Heat rushes to Joel’s cheeks, crimson spreading from his chest to his face. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to know that. A tingle he hasn’t felt before spreads from the base of his spine. His jealousy is starting to brew, but at the same time, it feels oddly nice to be helpless, even though he knows he isn’t. 

“Answer my question,” Tommy commands, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Are you a bad girl?” 

“Y–Yes.” 

Your eyes roll when Tommy presses your clit, drawing rough circles, he smiles. “Tell your boyfriend who’s your daddy now?” 

Joel holds his breath. Beads of sweat coating his back. “You are,” he hears you say to Tommy. There’s a slight quiver to your bottom lip and every part of him wants to soothe you. 

But instead, his brother does. 

Tommy sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and kisses your deeply, his hands caressing the contour of your body. 

“Don’t worry,” Tommy says. “Daddy is goin’ to take care of you.” 

You’re about to lose your mind. Your body is a flame and with each devastating snap of Tommy’s hips, your mouth drops open with a guttural moan. You’ve always assumed he’d be a gentle lover. Though you have a sneaking suspicion that Joel’s presence might be a solid reason why he’s tearing you and building you up over and over again. 

He positioned you so you’re staring at nothing else but Joel, you see how hard he is under his pants, the outline of his cock visible and making you gush all over Tommy’s cock. You want him in your mouth so bad but you know this isn’t that kind of game. Joel’s eyes follow the sway of your breasts, your bra ripped from you a while ago. You were completely naked except for your panties—Joel’s favorite and now Tommy is fucking you in it. 

Tommy reaches forward and grabs your throat, pulling you up so more of your chest is exposed. His cock is bigger than you imagined, nearly big as Joel. He pounds into you mercilessly, his length stretching you every day, reminding you whose cock is tearing you apart. 

“Does it turn you on that he’s watchin’ how wet you’re gettin’ my dick sweetheart?” With his question another fresh wave of slick drips out of you, tears build in your eyes, your insides left throbbing. His hips stutter, going balls deep, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck. Joel, she’s soaked— does she ever get this wet for you?” 

“‘Course she does,” he grunts, crossing his arms. You can’t tell if he’s upset or not, but the fact that Tommy doesn't have a broken nose already must be a good sign. 

Tommy leans into your ear, loud enough for Joel to hear. “Bet the old man can’t fuck you as well as I do.” 

You don’t answer. You can’t. Both of them are so good at this, and your head is in shambles. 

Tommy suddenly stops, and you’re a brink away from breaking down. A whine tears away from your lips. He releases your neck, you fall forward, only upright thanks to his hands holding your arms. “Answer me.” 

“You’re making me feel so good,” you say instead and thankfully, he doesn’t try to gauge a different response. His cock pulses, making you believe that was all he wanted to hear. Joel observes the two of you carefully. 

“Say it again baby, tell him how well daddy’s taking care of you.” 

“Daddy’s taking care of me,” you slur as his pace begins to pick up again. Each thrust makes you squeeze his cock like a vice. Liquid heat drops down your spine, your stomach clenching as he edges you closer and closer to your downfall. “J–Joel,” you call out without much thought and his dark gaze meets your own. “He feels so good.” 

“Oh fuck—” Tommy chokes and swiftly pulls out, prompting you to let out a disappointed whine. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna— fuck— bring your face here—” 

The back of Tommy’s head falls against the headboard and you quickly hurry towards him, your glistening cunt now in perfect view. You hear Joel taking in a sharp exhale. You part your lips, dipping down to take Tommy into your mouth but he stops it, holding you by the nape. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours,” he groans, forcing you down so your cheek would be pressed right below his pelvis. He starts stroking himself, fucking into his fist, and the sight is so beautiful that you lick one of his balls into your mouth, his back arches. 

Suddenly, he grips you even tighter and starts moaning loudly in harsh gasps, his hips thrusting uncontrollably against your face. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of you. You can feel him pulsing against your skin. You moan in response, feeling the rush of excitement as you open your mouth wider to take it all in.

“Tommy, please,” you breathe out, your eyes locked with his as he releases a stream on your face, covering your cheeks and lips with his release. You can feel yourself growing even more aroused as he continues to stroke himself, coating your face with his warm come. You whimper, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as he lets out a final raspy breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stares at you, your face damp and covered in his release. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up, the intimate moment causing your heart to race in your chest. Tommy reaches out, gently wiping some of the come off of your face with his thumb before bringing it to your lips, letting you taste yourself.

“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, his breaths coming out in short pants. He pulls you up to him, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce kiss. However, while you’re lost in his mouth, you don’t realize the bed dipping with an added weight. You hear a clink of a belt and suddenly Joel is buried deep between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit. You gasp against Tommy’s mouth, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle.

“You didn’t make her come, idiot,” he groans, fucking himself into your deeper and deeper. Your eyes roll, your lips parting an inch away from Tommy’s face. Joel sinks his teeth into your neck, hips rutting into you without leaving you. His other hand playing with the elastic of your panties, you break down around him, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. “Mine,” he growls, acting as if the two of you are alone. “Mine, mine, mine—” 

Joel spills into you with a deep and visceral groan. There’s so much, his cock twitching and pulsing as he forces himself even deeper, claiming you as his. Doing something Tommy isn’t allowed to do. You shiver all over, your body weak with pleasure. 

He trickles down the inside of your thighs as he pulls out, falling back to his knees. You collapse onto Tommy’s chest and you’re surprised when you feel his hand on your neck, rubbing soothingly over your warm skin. 

Joel leaves a trail of kisses down your spine, “You were amazin’, honey.” 

“Such a good girl,” Tommy murmurs, though both of their voices feel as if it’s coming from a distance. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion taking hold of you. “Let’s get her cleaned up and tuck her in.” 

Joel presses his mouth against you one last time before heading to the bathroom. 

[answer2jeff]

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

[itaipava]

— habits f1 boys developed in your relationship.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

the first thing he does in the morning is open his phone; since he started dating you, nothing is on his mind but you. you’re the one constant he can’t get rid of and he thinks you might be the death of him. even when he’s working, all he sees is your face, which always leaves him with a bright and passionate look followed by a silly smile on his lips that always makes others smile and joke about how in love he is. when he starts his day, he wants the first thing he sees is you; so every morning when he wakes up he picks up his phone to admire his lock screen; which is you smiling hugely at the camera as he kisses your cheek. and smiling, he sends you a cute and genuine good morning message.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

he always looks at you first when he makes a joke or sarcastic comment; since you two were just friends he always liked your laugh and your smile, so he’s always making some joke or sarcastic comment about something or someone and, without realizing it, he turns his face to look at you and can’t help but smile. and when you’re in crowded places, he always pulls you close and whispers in your ear something he’s noticed or some inside joke. everyone says he gets even more talkative and funny when you’re around, but he doesn’t mind the teasing because your smile is the best thing he could ask for.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he always takes a moment out of his day to be with you; no matter how busy his day is or what’s going on, he always wants to take a moment to lie with you and be able to talk, feel you there. he traces the details of your face while asking about your day and what has been going on in your life and mind lately. he loves and appreciates every second with you and those little moments are the most important to him; he hugs you on the bed and expresses his love in every way he can.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he likes to do things together; he loves your presence and he loves to share the same happiness and peaceful atmosphere with you, so everything he is going to do he calls you to do with him; mainly taking a shower. he loves the feel of the intimacy of rubbing each other’s bodies, washing each other’s hair, and laughing at the silly things only the two of you do. he also loves to hug you after a shower, he puts something on the television but he doesn’t care at all, he’s too busy getting lost in your body and the delicious smell of soap and lotion that exudes from you. he loves these little moments with you, he loves you.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he texts you every day; he can’t go too long without talking to you or making sure you’re okay and taking care of yourself, so whenever possible he texts you or even calls you. he also likes to send you pictures or videos that he saw and ‘remembered you’ just to brighten your day a little. you always wake up to texts from him, saying something like ‘good morning my love. i hope you have an amazing day today. please take care. i’ll always be here’ and his messages are also the last thing you see before you go to sleep. even though it’s such a simple gesture, you can see his love and adoration for you and how much you mean to him.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

he always carries extra stuff for you; in his backpack, there is always an extra hoodie in case you get cold, medicine, your favorite snacks, hair ties, and anything else you might need. he readily helps you pin your hair up - because he’s seen enough tutorials on the internet to learn how to style your hair perfectly - or helps you put on the hoodie; he always gives you a kiss on the forehead as if he’s glad he could help you. he has always promised to take care and protect you from anything and he shows it through small gestures and you appreciate it from the bottom of your heart, which makes him even more in love with you.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he decorates all your favorite things; he always makes breakfast the way you like, you often wake up to the smell of ready-made coffee; he leans against the doorframe with a cup in his hand and smiles lazily at you when you wake up. he loves to learn your quirks and mannerisms; he ends up taking all of them and just realizes he’s doing the same thing as you when you point it out. he also loves to please you so he often brings home your favorite flower in your favorite color, or cooks your favorite dish, or plays your favorite music at random times. he always smirks when he realizes how happy those little things have made you, and he couldn’t be more in love.

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! The wife having a rather...pleasant dream, and when she wakes up she finds a meaty treat all sprung up and ready to suck. Miguel's morning wood. She frees him and gets to work. Kissing his tip, rolling her tongue on his shaft. She practically inhales the thing.

Miguel wakes up and ooooh he sure loves what he sees. It reminds him of their younger days. When she was shameless and he was railing her whenever where ever. He pets her hair and lowers her head further down his cock. Praising her. Talking about how she makes him feel and such.

When he gets close to the finish he starts going off about how he's going to fuck her open for doing this to him. Maybe put another baby in her.

The wife is all excited, now she's reminded of how shameless Miguel was back then. She gets all embarrassed and keeps sucking and slurping until he finishes down her throat 🤭

It's Miguel's turn to get spoiled 🤭.

NSFW undercut

Dreams were something you didn't indulge talking about too much given the randomness of said events. You'd often dream about funny yet strange things that absolutely meant no sense.

Miguel only laughed when you told them about it. But this one in particular had your mind going and your body reacting in such delicious ways.

Hard nipples, soft pants and soaked panties. Your eyes fluttered open and the first thing coming into view was Miguel. Your husband. A sense of pride invaded you everytime you saw the golden band around your fingers.

He was yours and you were his. Sometimes you'd marvel at the fact that you had tamed this 6'9" man. You kissed his neck softly and smirked, sauntering your hands over his body. To your luck, his morning wood had rose, trapped in his pants, in dire need to be free.

Licking your lips, you slowly removed the sheets out of him, hunger made your hands tremble and mouth to water as you let his cock unleashed from it's confinements. The appendage stood tall and proud, fat eight and a half inches waiting for you to do something.

Miguel stirred and sighed, a hand rested on his eyes, preventing the direct light to hit him in the eyes. Your hands took a hold of him, pumping a few times before you kneeled in between his long and we'll worked thighs.

Plump lips kissed his tip, to then trail downwards his base. The feathery touches made his hand to clench and soft groans rasped in his throat. Low and needy.

Smirking, you licked his tip, savoring him, to then taking him in. A satisfied groan from you. One hand stimulated his base as the other one enticed him further by dragging nails softly on his hips and inner thighs. His mouth came gently ajar as you worked his cock.

Your tongue swirling definitely had woken him up. Sleepy and droopy eyes stared down at you to finally widen as you took him deeper. His chest heaved and his fist clenched ontop of his head. It was so mesmerizing to you how his body came out in natural poses worthy of a God, and of course you were all for the worship.

"Qué maravilla."

His breath hitched again as you focused on his tip, the squelching and sloshing noises your lips made his eyes close, relishing the moment. A genuine smile on his lips

"Wouldn't mind to be woken up like..." He choked and laughed softly, "Mierda... mi amor you're... you're so good."

"Hm?" Eyes fluttered at him, visual contact was one of his favorite things you'd learned through the years you've know him.

"Keep going, feels fucking good" He rasped as his hands rested ontop of your head, caressing softly your hair, but tensed as your mouth worked harder. Teeth grazed his skin, ever softly just enough to earn a shudder from him.

"A-Así. Justo así" (Just like that)

His hands took a hold of your hair, fisting it between his knuckles and guided your head at the pace you had picked up. Fingertips massaged your scalp as he continued bobbing your head. Your hands squeezed his hips.

"Por Dios, cariño..." He half laughed and half grunted as you took him deeper, throat muscles constricting around his moist cock. Eyes clenched for a second as his head was thrown back for a moment. His body in override.

"Show me what that mouth can do, mi amor."

His voice hoarse, full of that lust only you knew to spark in him.

Smirking you released him with a pop to immediately engulfing him again. The whole scenario reminded him the time you gave him a blowjob in his car, a couple of days after you had shared your first time together. You were so shameless and he was nervous that someone would catch you. That didn't stopped you from milking him and him teasing you afterwards.

"Yes..." He hissed while bucking his hips against your mouth, pushing a bit deeper into you. Jaw muscles relaxed, allowing him to have easier access to your throat. Your worship was slow but knew how to trigger his delicious reactions.

"Te voy a..." He choked at the last suck, "Te voy a coger bien bien, por andar jugando así conmigo" (I'll fuck you so damn good for toying with me like that)

Your ears perked up and you giggled, excitement growing as your bobbing and suckling turned sloppier and meaner. His shudering moans turned erratic as you guided him to his eventual peak

"Capaz y te hago otro chamaco de nuevo." (Might put a baby inside again)

His mouth gaped, his sharp cheeks flushed, chest heaved and muscles twitched. He groaned as you gagged him completely. Your name was hissed through gritted teeth as he came, he held your head in place; your nose nuzzled at his happy trail, making sure you'd take every drop of him.

He put a strand behind your ear, not letting that to stop you from kissing his tip again to then lick your lips clean while you swallowed with a satisfied smile.

"Yummy"

"Vente pa'ca" (C'mere)

You squealed as he pulled you towards him. Maybe it was time to go for the third O'Hara.

[colonelarr0w]

hi i hope you’re well! i love your writing and i was hoping to make a req for gojo. reader riding his face and he’s just sloppy with it because he’s obsessed with her and how good she tastes and he won’t stop talking about it either lmao full on loverboy <3 thank you so much!

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - This is just smut guys, c'mon, read the request.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“C’mon baby, pleaseee?” Satoru whines, turning his head so that his cheek rests against your inner thigh. His eyes flicker up to you, wide and puppy-like. God, you could already feel yourself folding. 

Your fingers pause their scratching of Satoru’s scalp, eyes boring into his own as you force yourself to wear a stern expression.  

“I don’t know ‘toru,” you murmur offhandedly, wincing as Satoru’s expression falls. He sighs, breath fanning out over the exposed skin of your leg — which sends a shiver up your spine.  

He pouts, bottom lip jutting out as his arms squeeze around your waist. You jolt, not having expected the gesture.  

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“I crush you…?” 

Satoru hums, tilting his head as if he were weighing his options. You bite back the laugh that bubbles in the back of your throat, nearly allowing your resolve to crumble.  

“What a way to go out—“ 

“Satoru!” You slap a hand against the back of his head, chuckling breathily as he dramatically yelps, then burying his head into your stomach. “Don’t say things like that.” 

He groans, the vibration of his voice tickling your skin. Your fingers return to his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp — it makes you giggle how he immediately leans into the touch, practically purring. 

“Pleaseee~?” Satoru begs, flashing you his signature puppy eyes again in the hopes that it would break you down enough to say ‘yes’ to his one request. 

(In truth, he was making it seem like this was his last request before he would surrender to the skeletal hands of Death.) 

“Are you sure that you want me to sit on your face?” you raise your eyebrow. The expression that Satoru wears is comical — his eyebrows flattened and his eyes narrowed in the most ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that you had ever seen. 

And that’s what brought you here. 

On top of Satoru’s nose. 

Rocking your hips against him as you desperately chased an orgasm that was right there.  

The lewd sounds of Satoru slurping up every bit of what you offer him only makes the coil in your stomach tighten. His tongue is buried in your heat, greedily licking up every last bit of your essence and moaning against you.  

You brace yourself on your palms, hands on either side of Satoru’s head with your fingers curling up the sheets. You throw your head back, moaning out in such a pornographic way that Satoru genuinely thought he had cum in his pants (he didn’t … yet).  

His tongue moves upward, lips latching onto your clit as he roughly sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves, holding your hips steady as you begin to lose your balance on top of him.  

“C’mon pretty girl, wan’ you to cum on my tongue,” Satoru murmurs against you, the vibrato of his voice sending a delicious shiver up your spine. 

You glance down, the coil in your stomach nearly snapping at the mere sight of Satoru’s eyes peering up at you, pupils lust blown from the position that you were currently in.  

A broken moan falls from your lips as you rock your hips against his face, clit just barely rubbing against the tip of his nose. “‘toru!” 

The lewd sound of Satoru gulping down all your pussy offers him is the answer that you receive — that which finally pushes you completely over the edge.  

Your body stutters, nearly losing your balance. Satoru’s hands grab at the skin of your thighs, fingers digging into the supple flesh and leaving behind small crescent marks from his nails.  

His tongue works you through your orgasm, tongue kitten-licking your clit until you’re convulsing on the verge of overstimulation. Your chest rises and falls in whiny pants, body trying to lift itself from Satoru’s mouth — but he continues his relentless actions.  

Your fingers tangle themselves into his hair, nails grazing against his scalp and tugging upward on the strands. Satoru groans against you, the vibration keeping you teetering on the edge of another orgasm. You tug your bottom lip up between your teeth, biting down into the flesh and swallowing another moan as it rises in your throat.  

Finally, after one last tug to his hair, Satoru lets you fall back against the bed, chest rising and falling as you attempt to catch your breath. He turns his head, grinning at you with that same shit-eating grin that he always wore in situations where he was proven right.  

"See, nothing bad happened!" Satoru grins as he tugs you into his arms, pressing chaste kisses against your neck as you lean into him, nose tucking into the crook of his neck.  

You hum in response, eyes already fluttering shut as exhaustion begins to seep into your bones. Satoru only chuckles to himself, squeezing you tighter against him and pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline. He glances down at your sleepy face, smiling to himself as he cards his fingers through your hair, nails scraping against your scalp.  

"So can we do it again?" 

"'toru!" 

[crystallinestars]

Falling asleep and waking up together with him

A collection of headcanons on what I think falling asleep and waking up with a few of the Genshin men would be like (alternatively, just me rambling about how much they love you).

Characters: Thoma, Xiao, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Diluc, Childe, and Kazuha

Thoma

🍡 Thoma comes home late after his duties as a housekeeper for the Kamisato clan. He’s used to the grueling work, so he’s not as exhausted as he used to be when he first started the job, but the physical work still takes a toll on him, and he tends to fall asleep pretty quickly. Even so, he tries to stay awake long enough to chat with you while you snuggle in bed together, sharing stories about your day and your hopes for the future. Thoma likes to hug you close to him while you both fall asleep, both because he enjoys feeling your presence and because he feels the need to keep you safe. And no place is safer than in his arms, or so he thinks.

🍡 As a part of his duties for the Kamisato clan, Thoma wakes up really early so he and other housekeepers can get started on cleaning and cooking before the masters of the manor wake up. As such, he always wakes up before you, so you hardly ever get to see him before he leaves your shared home. Thoma feels bad that he can’t greet you a good morning in person, but he still wants to show you that he cares, so he cooks you breakfast. It’s become a routine for you to walk into the kitchen in the morning and find an entire breakfast spread on the table full of various delicious foods and a note from Thoma wishing you a good day ahead. Thoma also packs you a lunch for you to take to work (or eat at home). By nature, Thoma feels compelled to take care of you, and he will be damned if you go hungry.

🍡 If he comes home to find that you haven’t eaten breakfast, then he’ll be disappointed and scold you for skipping the most important meal of the day. He would be genuinely upset and worried for your health, fussing over you almost like a parent. It would be in your best interest to just eat the breakfast he prepares you to avoid worrying him more.

🍡 During your mutual days off, Thoma still wakes up early out of habit. He lays in bed next to you while you sleep, keeping his arms wrapped around you as he watches you snooze. The two of you don’t always have as much time to spend together as you’d like due to your busy schedules, so Thoma tries to take advantage of these moments to spend time with you and admire you. He wants to let you sleep, but seeing your cute sleeping expression fills him with too much affection for him to contain, and he can’t help but press a few kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Thoma’s kisses usually disturb your sleep, and he apologizes for waking you. He lets you go back to sleep if you want to and just gets up by himself, or if you choose to stay awake, he’ll be delighted to shower you in more kisses and hug you tighter to him, getting in some of that affection he didn’t have the chance to indulge in during the week.

🍡 Thoma loves waking up together with you, as rarely as that happens, since it gives him more time to spend with you. His favorite activity to do with you is cooking a meal together, so it becomes routine for you to help him out in the kitchen while he cooks you both breakfast. Even if your cooking skills are lacking, Thoma instructs you on what you can do to help, making sure to keep the tasks simple if you’re not much of a chef like he is. Even if he ends up doing most of the work, Thoma appreciates whatever help you provide him with. After all, the purpose of cooking together is less about the outcome and more about doing something together with you. He also finds that eating together with you makes the food taste better. You can laugh at him for that and poke fun at him all you want, but he claims that it’s true. Being around you just makes everything better.

Xiao

👹 Xiao refuses to sleep in the same bed as you, saying he doesn’t want to risk exposing you to his karma for extended periods of time. No matter how much you try to convince or beg him, his answer is always a firm no. He loves you, and it’s because he treasures you so much that he doesn’t want to hurt you. It would break him if you fell to harm because of him, so he always turns down your offers to sleep next to you even if it breaks his heart to see the disappointment in your eyes. He wants you to understand that he’s only doing this to keep you safe, but he always feels guilty for letting you down, and the guilt haunts him even after he leaves you to vanish into the night.

👹 At some point, his constant rejection depresses you. Even if you know why he avoids sleeping with you, understand that his reasons are good, it still hurts that you can’t engage in such simple intimacy with him. Xiao hates seeing you look so down because of him, so he agrees on a compromise. He’ll stay in the bedroom with you until you fall asleep, but he won’t lie next to you. It’s the best outcome you could hope for from him, so you agree. It’s not the same as having him right next to you and feeling his warmth, but it’s better than nothing. It’s still fun to talk to him while you wait for sleep to take you, hearing his calm and soft voice resound from a dark corner of your room in response to your questions and stories is reassuring. Despite what he may think, you feel safe having Xiao nearby, and when you tell him this, all that follows is silence. His only response is that you should go to sleep, but you can tell by the lilt in his voice that he’s embarrassed. Although you can’t see his face, you’re confident that he’s blushing.

👹 Once you’re asleep, Xiao likes to take a few minutes to watch you sleep to ensure you’re fine. If you have nightmares, he uses his abilities to eat them so they won’t disturb your rest. He has bad memories of consuming the dreams of others back when he was under the enslavement of a cruel god, but after watching you struggle with your nightmares and seeing how frightened they made you, he thought that he could help you. It is with this intention that he offered to eat your nightmares, and only starts ridding you of them after he got your consent. Xiao still feels a bit uncertain about eating your nightmares, but when you thank him for helping you in this way, he feels a bit better about it. He’s only done this to hurt others in the past, so he’s glad that his ability can actually help you.

👹 On rare occasions Xiao actually does lay down beside you, though you’re never aware of it because he does it while you’re asleep. He avoids touching you so as to not accidentally wake you, which is why you remain unaware. He’s not sure what drives him to go against his own words of caution, but there are times when he wants to be close to you. Yes, he holds your hand and exchanges kisses with you (though it’s mostly you kissing him), and that is its own form of closeness, but resting next to you while you are so vulnerable brings him a sense of peace. While he lays beside you you, Xiao likes to close his eyes and listen to your slow and even breaths. He tries to imagine what a normal life with you would be like if he weren’t affected by his karmic debt, and his mind comes up with images where he can hold you close to him as you both sleep, where he can spend more time around you and your friends without worrying about hurting anyone. But for now, laying down beside you like this for a short while is enough. Xiao doesn’t dare ask for more.

👹 In the mornings, you usually won’t find any traces of Xiao. He’s gone by the time the sun rises, whether to fight demons or hide out at the Wangshu Inn, you’re not sure. Regardless, you end up eating breakfast alone unless you call on him to join you. Xiao will always appear before you without fail, and though he won’t be pleased with you for calling on him for such a simple reason, he will stay with you while you eat your breakfast. He tells you to not make this a regular thing, reminding you of the dangers of his karmic debt. Even so, he wants you to be happy, and if his presence is what makes you happy, then he’ll indulge you a little.

Kaveh

🍷 Kaveh’s sleep schedule is inconsistent. Some nights he stays up until the early morning working on draft after draft for his client until he’s satisfied with the finished product. On other nights he gets too drunk or too tired and clocks in earlier. As such, each night you never know when your boyfriend will join you in bed.

🍷 On nights when Kaveh stays up late, he seldom listens to your urging to leave his work for later and finally get some sleep. As frustrating as his stubbornness can be, Kaveh is too bound by his perfectionism and work ethic to stop. But once he’s finally finished his work and gets into bed next to your sleeping figure, nothing brings him as much comfort and peace as holding you in his arms after a grueling workday. All the stress, worry, anxiety, and frustration melt away when he feels your warmth, the softness of your skin, and breathes in your scent. Even while asleep you still manage to chase away his loneliness and sadness just with your presence, and Kaveh will forever consider himself incredibly lucky that you chose to stay by his side despite how difficult it can be.

🍷 Kaveh holds you close as he falls asleep, nuzzling his face into your hair or the crook of your neck while his mind quickly succumbs to exhaustion. He used to have nightmares on days where the memories of his childhood plagued his mind, but ever since meeting you, those nightmares became less and less frequent. Sleeping next to you brings him a sense of peace and solace that you won’t ever know about unless Kaveh outright tells you, and though he won’t say it out loud, he still tries to let you know how much you mean to him through his actions.

🍷 Staying up late usually results in Kaveh sleeping in. He could sleep through his scheduled appointments with his clients, so he’s very appreciative when you wake him up to give him time to get ready so he won’t be late. If he doesn’t have any clients to meet, then you usually have to carefully extract yourself from his arms to not wake him, and then go to prepare coffee and breakfast to share with him once he wakes up. Kaveh is used to making his own food while he lived with Alhaitham since his schedule didn’t always match up with the Scribe’s, but there is something special in waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you preparing breakfast for him. The sight fills him with warmth, affection, and gratitude that he can’t express in words, so he chooses to hug you from behind and kiss you on the cheek in greeting. He thanks you for making him breakfast too, calling you a true treasure for your acts of kindness towards him. Though his words might sound like simple flattery, if you look into his eyes, you’ll see the adoration in them and know that he truly means them from his heart. Kaveh isn’t used to being taken care of like this, but little by little you make him more open to receiving your care, and he swears he falls even more in love with you for it.

🍷 On the rare occasion when Kaveh wakes up earlier than you, he usually likes to take a few minutes to lay next to you and just admire you in the morning light. Even if your hair is all tangled and you’re drooling onto your pillow, the architect still thinks you look beautiful. He claims to have an eye for beauty and fine art, and to him, you are the epitome of beauty at this moment even if you think otherwise.

🍷 Eventually, Kaveh reluctantly separates himself from you to get started on his day while still letting you sleep. Much like you, he also prepares you breakfast and even plates it on a tray and brings it to you so you can have breakfast in bed. When you’re met with the gorgeous display of fruits and other breakfast foods arranged artfully on the tray, you are reluctant to eat it. After all, Kaveh spent a long time arranging the food to look beautiful, especially for you, and it would be a pity to destroy such a masterpiece. Your praise of his efforts feeds his ego, but he still encourages you to eat because your acknowledgment of his efforts is enough. He wants to take care of you the same way you take care of him, giving you just as much love back if not more.

Alhaitham

🎧 Alhaitham is a man of routine. He has a set time for when he goes to bed and a regular proceeding he does before going to sleep, such as spending an hour reading in bed or listening to some music. He rarely stays up late unless absolutely necessary. He doesn’t expect you to match his bedtime routine since he believes you should do whatever you need to help you prepare for bed, but he appreciates it if you take his needs into consideration. Though he’s set in his ways, Alhaitham is flexible enough to make compromises in his bedtime routine to better suit you, like taking his reading out into the living room if you complained that you couldn’t sleep with the bedside lamp on.

🎧 The Scribe is not fond of physical closeness, so he prefers that each of you stay on your respective sides of the bed and not invade the other’s personal space. He feels smothered if you cling to him throughout the night, and dislikes being in contact with you for long periods of time. Though he’s not fond of having you wrap yourself around him, Alhaitham has a much easier time being the one initiating the physical closeness. If you feel cold, he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. His body is naturally very warm, and he functions as a great heater during the colder nights. If you feel sad and crave some company or affection, then Alhaitham will indulge you by hugging you and absentmindedly stroking your hair. He won’t say much since he’s not good at using gentle words, but he hopes you are still able to find some comfort in his arms.

🎧 Another time during which Alhaitham is okay with you touching him would be when he feels affectionate. This could happen after a session of lovemaking or if he hasn’t seen you for a while due to his business trips and has missed your company. He doesn’t have many close relationships, and Alhaitham sometimes becomes aware of just how much you mean to him. You put up with his aloof and overly pragmatic self and accept him for who he is. You love him for who he is. Few people can put up with him, even his ex-roommate Kaveh frequently complained and blew a fuse because of the Scribe’s attitude, but you continue to love him despite the difficulties, and in return, he accepted you into his heart. Although he prefers to keep his personal space, sometimes even Alhaitham craves the touch of another, to feel that he belongs and is accepted by someone, and thus has moments where he enjoys feeling your head rest on his chest or shoulder with one of his arms wrapped around you. The feeling makes him feel a warm and gentle emotion he can’t quite place, but it makes it easier for him to fall asleep.

🎧 Alhaitham usually wakes up before you, especially if he has work. He’s consistent like clockwork with how he wakes up at the same time each day, and the morning routine he performs to get ready for the day ahead. If you’re still not awake by the time he makes his coffee, expect Alhaitham to unceremoniously wake you up and take a jab at you by commenting on how you overslept in the snarkiest manner possible. Though he wakes you up rather rudely, you still find a cup of tea or coffee and a light breakfast waiting for you so you won’t go hungry in your rush to get ready.

🎧 If it’s a day off, then Alhaitham likes to laze around in bed with you, especially if it’s raining outside. Something about reading in the comfort of his warm and cozy bed with you snoring softly by his side brings a sense of peace to him. Depending on how long you sleep, he might read while he waits for you to wake up or eventually get up if he knows you won’t awake for a while still.

🎧 Alhaitham is fond of taking afternoon naps when his day is uneventful, even coming home from the Akademiya so he can read and then snooze on the sofa in his living room. He keeps his headphones on to block out any external noise since it helps him fall asleep easier, warmed by the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. Though he’ll never tell you, one of his favorite things is waking up from such naps to find you sleeping next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. The stacks of reports he planned to look through after his nap go on the back burner, for you are simply too adorable for him to disturb. So Alhaitham resumes reading his book while waiting for you to wake up from your own nap.

Wriothesley

🐺 Being the administrator of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley is often busy from dawn to dusk. Signing paperwork, overseeing the prison operations, meeting with collaborators and partners, monitoring various projects, and many other things all take valuable time in his day. Despite how busy he is, Wriothesley is still full of energy when you retire with him for the night. He likes laying on his side while facing you, propping his head up on his hand while he listens to you talk about your busy day, occasionally sharing stories of his own about the drinks Sigewinne tries to convince him to drink or funny stories about his colleagues. He enjoys having these simple, lighthearted conversations with you. It’s a nice contrast from his usual talks with inmates who are intimidated by him, and formal business meetings which aren’t his cup of tea.

🐺 Wriothesley finds comfort in spending these few hours awake in bed with you. He’s used to life in the gloomy, dark depths of the waters of Fontaine, surrounded by the cold, metallic walls of the Fortress. With no windows, it’s difficult to tell what time of day it is, the only indicator being the activities of the prisoners and staff, and the clock he occasionally glances at. A life devoid of sunlight and fresh air can be bleak and depressing, and though Wriothesley is used to it, he does notice that ever since he started sleeping with you, his mood has improved compared to before. Maybe it’s conjecture or maybe he’s just that stupidly in love with you, but watching your sleeping face and feeling your warm body in his arms makes him feel that his room in the Fortress is not as gloomy and cold as it used to be, as if you brighten up the place with your presence.

🐺 While sleeping, the Duke likes to have an arm around you in some way. He prefers to scoop you up into his strong arms and hug you to sleep, but if you don’t want that then he hopes you’ll at least let him lay one arm across you. He just likes feeling you next to him, it gives his mind a sense of peace knowing you’re beside him. Unfortunately, even if you tell him you’re not in the mood to be held by him, by the time you wake up you’ll find yourself wrapped up in his body as if you were a teddy bear. Wriothesley apologizes for this, but he genuinely has no control over his body while he’s sleeping, and it somehow happens unconsciously. You’ll either have to get used to this or sleep in a separate bed.

🐺 Due to his administrator duties, Wriothesley usually wakes up earlier than you. He doesn’t have much time to bask in bed with you and admire your cute sleeping face, so he gets up fairly quickly and gets ready for his day. If you work in the Fortress as well, then you usually get up together with him even if it might be a little too early for you. This gives you a chance to spend the morning with him before both of you go about your duties. Wriothesley usually gets breakfast from the cafeteria, and you join him if you feel too lazy to cook anything. However, the Duke loves it when you cook breakfast for both of you. It can be a simple meal of toast and eggs or anything else you know how to make, but having his love cook for him gives him a sense of domesticity which is a foreign feeling in the dark and cold walls of the prison. It makes him feel as if the two of you were married, and the idea warms his heart. He contemplates genuinely asking for your hand in marriage later down the line.

🐺 While you cook breakfast, Wriothesley brews a pot of tea for you to share with your food. He’s memorized your favorite way of taking your tea and adds the right amount of sugar or cream (if you take any) before serving it to you. Breakfast is generally the most time he gets to spend with you during the day before night falls, so he treasures these little mundane moments even if he doesn’t say it aloud. He does his part by washing the dishes afterward and asking for a kiss from you before heading to work. He claims it’s his good luck charm, and who are you to refuse when he gives you that expectant look?

Diluc

🦉 Between his day jobs as the wine tycoon of Mondstadt and the owner of Angel’s Share and his night job as the Darknight Hero, Diluc is very busy and has an inconsistent sleep schedule. So much so, that you don’t always get to spend the night in his arms. He could come home after you’ve fallen asleep and then be up before you, so by the time you wake up you won’t even know he was home if it wasn’t for the clear indication that he had slept on his side of the bed. Diluc knows he shouldn’t neglect you too much, so he tries to make time to spend with you. He misses you just as much as you miss him, so rest assured he will always return to your side.

🦉 Diluc feels guilty when you stay up late waiting for him to come to bed with you. You try not to rush him because you know that whatever he is dealing with at the moment is important. If it could have been done another day, then he would have left it for later in favor of joining you and getting some rest. Still, Diluc doesn’t like making you wait for him. He tells you not to wait and go straight to bed, though he does appreciate your dedication and loyalty towards him.

🦉 Once he does finally join you, Diluc likes to wrap his arms around you and hold you close while giving you a few chaste kisses in apology for making you wait and expressing his gratitude towards you. He feels so lucky that despite how busy he is, you don’t get mad at him or leave him for not being able to give you as much affection as you want. Diluc tries to make it up to you by being extra affectionate when he does get to spend time with you and sends you a lot of gifts when he can. For now, he hopes you will let him hold you close and stroke your hair while he feels you fall asleep in his arms. Diluc’s mind is usually full of various thoughts that don’t let him fall asleep easily, but listening to your quiet and slow breaths lulls him to sleep soon after.

🦉 Despite going to sleep late, Diluc usually wakes up before you do. If he doesn’t have anywhere urgent to be, he likes to take some time to admire you since he doesn’t get to do so as often as he would like. He traces your cheek with a finger, marveling at how soft and smooth your skin is, and how it glows in the morning light. You look so beautiful, and he’s reminded once more of why he fell in love with you. He apologizes when his touch wakes you up, and his heart squeezes when your face lights up in a smile at having woken up next to him for a change. Diluc kisses your forehead in a morning greeting and smiles when you cuddle up closer to him to enjoy the warmth of his body.

🦉 Though he wishes to spend time with you, unfortunately, he must part from you all too soon. His duties await him, and as the master of the winery, he can’t afford to stay idle. He invites you to breakfast with him, and by the time the two of you make it downstairs, Adelinde already has breakfast prepared for you. The perks of living with Diluc as his lover is that you get to eat delicious meals prepared by Adelinde, the head housemaid of the manor. She dotes on you as much as she dotes on Diluc and Kaeya and prepares your favorite dishes from time to time. It honestly makes Diluc happy to see that the closest thing he has to a mother figure has accepted you so warmly into his family, though in Adelinde’s eyes, you and her master might as well be married already. If not yet, then soon because Diluc would be a fool to lose someone as caring and precious as you who waits for him long into the night. She will make sure Diluc won’t let his happiness slip past him due to his sense of responsibility.

Childe

🐋 Childe doesn’t always get to sleep together with you due to being away on long business trips as a part of his Harbinger duties. He doesn’t complain about not getting to be with his love, but he certainly does think about how much better it would be if he could have you in his arms when he goes to sleep in his hotel room at night. He misses your warmth, your smile, your voice, kissing you goodnight before falling asleep, and then good morning when he wakes up. Once he makes it back home to Snezhnaya, you better believe that he won’t let you go once night arrives. He wants to make up for all the missed time he didn’t get to spend with you and will be very affectionate by giving you abundant kisses and caressing you all over your body. He loves feeling your warm and smooth skin against his palms, making you feel all that much more real to him and not just another one of his dreams which he often gets when he’s away from you.

🐋 Another thing he missed about sleeping with you is your conversations before bed. Childe loves to ramble to you about his family, recounting all the fun stories about his younger siblings. He avoids talking about his dealings as a member of the Fatui even though you’re aware of what his Harbinger duties entail. He’d rather not talk about work when he’s with you, but about something that makes him happy. In turn, he loves it when you talk about things you like or that you found exciting while he was gone. Sure, he read your letters about these events while he was away, but he wants to hear all about it from you directly, told in your own voice. Listening to your voice relaxes him, and he sometimes falls asleep while listening to you, but don’t take it the wrong way. He’s not bored of your stories, he simply feels so at ease around you that he lets his guard down and falls asleep easily.

🐋 Despite how affectionate he is, Childe isn’t very clingy when he sleeps with you. The most he does is keep a protective arm around your waist but otherwise gives you enough freedom to not hinder you while you sleep. He instinctively prefers to have a more relaxed posture while sleeping so he can react swiftly if something were to happen, and he can’t do that if he’s all tangled up with you. That’s not to say that he will turn you down if you want to rest your head on his chest or shoulder. He’ll very much welcome it and wrap an arm around your waist and kiss the top of your head before settling in to sleep. He does like having you near, after all. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy when you snuggle up to him of your own volition, whether because you’re feeling affectionate or want to warm up from the cold Snezhnayan winters doesn’t matter, Childe will always welcome you with open arms.

🐋 Childe is an early riser. He rarely sleeps into the late morning, preferring to wake up early to train or go fishing. He doesn’t have as much free time to indulge in his hobbies, so he takes advantage of the morning to do so. He strives for self-improvement, and training or fishing are some of the best ways to help him better his fighting skills. Plus, he’s a strong believer in being productive with one’s time and doing as much work as possible in a single day instead of leaving things for tomorrow. As such, he won’t let you sleep for too long. Around 8 or 9 a.m., Childe will come to wake you, saying that you shouldn’t waste your day in bed and that he wants to spend more time with you. He even cooks you a warm breakfast and brings it to your shared room before trying to rouse you with hugs and kisses so you wouldn’t be too upset with him for waking you earlier than you might be used to. Childe wants the best for you, which is why he wants you to take control of your life and strive for self-improvement as well, and in his opinion, it starts with making the most of what your day has to offer.

Kazuha

🍁 As members of the Crux fleet, Kazuha and you spend most of your time out at sea, occasionally stopping with the crew to visit the harbors of other nations and explore the land. As such, the wandering samurai shares his cabin with you as your lover. It’s a bit cramped, but it’s not an issue since both of you spend most of your time outdoors. Kazuha goes to bed rather late because he likes to spend a few hours admiring the starry night sky and feeling the cool breeze. This time of day proves to be the quietest, and it’s perfect for him to compose some poetry or listen to the sounds of the waves and wind. He welcomes you if you want to join him in gazing at the stars or listening to his poems, but also understands if you’re too tired and want to head to bed.

🍁 Once he’s ready to go to bed himself, Kazuha will quietly join you. He’s quiet enough to not disturb you if you’re already asleep, but if you’re still awake then he takes advantage of that to wish you goodnight and kiss your cheek. Kazuha prefers to sleep while facing you. He likes having you be the last thing he sees right before he falls asleep, and be the first sight to greet him when he wakes up. He also enjoys holding one of your hands in his while he slowly drifts off. Though he can clearly hear your soft breaths in the darkness of your room, it’s still nice to have a physical reminder of you being next to him. If you’re still holding hands by the time both of you wake up, then Kazuha has a tendency to rub his thumb over the back of your hand and feel the smooth skin. It’s a small sign of his affection for you, a reminder that he loves you.

🍁 If you have trouble falling asleep, Kazuha can recite a few of his original poems for you or tell you a few Inazuman legends or fairytales in hopes that maybe his calm and soothing voice can lull you to sleep. If not, he’s willing to stay up with you to talk or take a walk around the ship’s deck and feel the night breeze. He keeps you company as long as necessary until you feel sleepy, and only goes to sleep himself once he makes sure you’re asleep first. He doesn’t want you to deal with the solitude of the night by yourself unless you explicitly state it’s what you want. Regardless, he is always willing to be there for you if you need him.

🍁 Kazuha tends to naturally wake up early. The songs of birds and sounds of the wind are enough to rouse him, though he lets you sleep if you’re not awake yet. He likes to take some time to simply admire you and chuckles if he sees you drooling in your sleep. Despite the drool dried to your chin and your mussed-up hair, he still finds you pretty. He knows that when you catch him looking just as disheveled when he wakes up, despite your giggles of amusement, he can tell that you find him equally as attractive if the loving gaze in your eyes is anything to go by. So Kazuha simply smiles and presses a tender kiss to your temple before getting up to start his day.

🍁 By the time you wake up, a few hours had passed since Kazuha got up, but he hadn’t had breakfast yet. He waits to eat together with you, considering it only natural that he should share all his meals with those he loves. He’s a firm believer that food tastes better in the company of others than while eating alone, and though he could eat together with his friends in the fleet, he doesn’t want you to eat by yourself. He uses the ship’s kitchen to whip up a simple breakfast for both of you. It’s nothing fancy, but it is nutritious and filling, perfect for helping you start your day on a full stomach. Despite your urging to not wait for you, Kazuha won’t stop doing so, and neither will he wake you up early unless necessary, so you better get used to it.

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Yandere Carmilla x Alastors! daughter reader (platonic)

Words: 2.1k

Requested: I_Love_Carmilla_Carmine

“Here to Stay”

A/n: sorry I haven’t posted for a while! I’m working on my school and have been busy! I’ll probably be writing more again on the weekend! Sorry the fight scene is bad!!!

Info: the reader gets left to Carmilla to take care of, Carmilla loved the reader like her own child, and doesn’t want her to leave. And Carmilla will go far to ensure she won’t

Sitting at her desk in her office, Carmilla writes and reads her documents. During this time she hears a knock on her door, she says a stern “enter” for whoever is out there. Turning around to face the door, she sees..Alastor? And a young child, you, near him. “Alastor? What is it that you need?” She asked stern, a little confused and polite.

“Hello Carmine! I have some business I need to attend to! And I came here asking for a favor!” He states in his usual radio and happy tone, a large smile planted on his face.

“Do tell..” Carmilla waits for what he wants, wondering why an overlord like himself would be asking for a favor in the first place.

“You see this little darling? This is my daughter [Name]! And I need you to keep her under your wing for a while.” He motioned to you, gently pushing you forward to see Carmilla. Shy and young, you look down and avert your eyes from Carmillas, she really was much more intimidating.

Carmillas gaze softened as she looked down at your shy form, then looked back at Alastor. “How long are you expected to be gone?”

“Oh, not that long..maybe a few days, but this little darling won’t cause you any trouble!” He said in his usual tone, smiling.

“I guess I can make some time for her..” Carmilla says looking down at you. She had a thing for children, she loved them, and when looking at you her heart softened.

“I give you my thanks” Alastor smiled and knelt down to you, a genuine grin on his face. “I will see you soon my dear, make sure you’re behaving for Carmilla here.” He said and gave your shoulder a pat.

“Okay..” you say and give him a quick hug, Alastor hugged back and stood up, saying his good byes and walking out the room. You turn to Carmilla, looking up at her.

“Come now little one..” she held her larger hand out to you, waiting for you to take it. You hesitated, but eventually took her hand, maybe you’d get use to Carmilla when your fathers out for the next couple of days.

…

…

…

Seven years. It’s been seven years since you’ve seen your father…that man that raised you in your earlier life..the man you wanted to see again. You got use to Carmilla after a few weeks when your father didn’t return like he promised. You were young and needed comfort, and study life and household, and lucky for you Carmilla was willing to give it to you, along with a caring mother figure, herself, and her daughters being your older sisters.

Though, she did act a lot more protective over you. You never had a mother so you just thought that mothers do this and it’s completely normal. It went from small things like telling her exactly where you’re going when you leave the house, and then started to get worse to the point she won’t even let you leave.

She grew possessive and overprotective. She was still kind, caring, and motherly, just more controlling. She loved you, like you were one of her daughters. You basically were, you spent seven years of your life at her house, being raised by her, she’s practically your mother.

Sighing softly, you stand up, looking around your room, which Carmilla had provided you a few years back. It was a medium room, larger than the one you had at your father’s place..and Carmilla made sure you had everything you needed. Clothes, a comfortable bed, and desk, food, everything. Right now, it was currently Saturday, so you headed to the kitchen, seeing Carmilla already making breakfast.

“Buenos Dias Hija, how are you?” She asked, serving you a plate of food. As always, the food smells and looks delicious, she really was the best cook you knew.

“Morning..I’m fine..” you say and start to eat. You’ve grown accustomed to her Spanish, she actually taught you how to speak it a few years ago. Odette and Clara woke up soon after, sitting in the living room and flipping the Tv on, like usual, this is how your older sisters started their Saturday mornings.

Turning your attention to the Tv in the living room, taking bites of your breakfast, you saw they were watching Vox’s channel. One of the VVV’s. Carmilla sighed and ignored the tv, she never liked the VVV’s, to her they were respect-less or inane, she never respected them as much as she did to the other overlords.

You watched it with your sisters, seeing he sounded like he was sorta singing? That was normal in hell so you weren’t surprised but…what he was saying caught your attention. “So, the Radio Demon is back in town”

…

…

…

…dad..?

He was back? You stopped eating and moved to the living room, sitting on the couch and watching…oh shit..he’s back..and you felt yourself grow excited that he’s back, wanting to see him, wanting to hug him, but also slight anger with how long he left you.

You stand up and rush to the door, but Carmilla grabbed your arm before you could. “[Name]? Where are you going?” She asked, worried.

“Didn’t you hear the tv! My dad’s back! I need to go see him!” You exclaim excitedly, thinking that Carmilla will be glad for you and let you.

Carmilla tensed and shook her head, eyes widening slightly at the thought of you returning to that man. “No..no my dear..it isn’t safe for you to go with him..”

You look at her, confused. “What..? Why not? He’s my father..” you asked, why was she keeping you from seeing him? She trusted him right? She trusted you right?

“That means nothing…he’s too dangerous and I will not allow him near you” Carmilla narrowed her eyes, and yanked you away from the front door. Carmilla sends a look at Clara and Odette, making them stand up and head to their rooms. “We will not discuss this any further. You are not going out to see him.” Carmilla demands.

You couldn’t believe it, your father finally came back and now Carmilla wasn’t letting you see him? You decided to fight back, not obeying her wishes. “No! He’s my dad! I want to see him! I miss him.” You say and tried to pull your arm out of her grip, but she’s stronger.

“I said we will not be discussing this! That man left you, he is the Radio demon! He is far too dangerous for you to be living with him!” She raised her voice more, usually when she did raise her voice, you’d back down..but not this time. You wanted to see him, you wanted to see your father.

“Let me go!” You yelled back at her, pulling and tugging at her arm, not letting your guard down, not going to give in.

“No! Listen to your mother!” She raised her voice even more, her pupils dilating at your stubborn form, she grits her teeth, her sharp fangs exposed.

“You’re not my mother!” You yell at her without a second thought. Carmilla froze, then she glared down at you. How dare you say that. She is practically your mother, the closest thing you had to one. And here you were, wanting to run back to the father who abandoned you.

Her grip tightens on your arm, she gave you a harsh tug and pulled you closer. “You will not see him. Do you understand?! He is not your father, he is not your parent and you will never see him again!” She snarled. You looked down, starting to tear up. You didn’t want to believe it, but it you knew it was true. “And for your disobedience…” she started, then dragged you upstairs to a room. She pushed you inside, slamming the door and locking it shut from the outside.

You panic and try opening the door, banging and banging on it, begging from the outside to make her let you out. But your cries fell silent on her, her heart hurt for your cries, but she knew you needed to be kept away, she knew you needed to be with her, your her family. And she will make sure it stays that way.

…

…

…

It’s been a few days. You ave been stuck in that room the whole time, crying. You knew Carmilla was protective but not this protective. She did come in and see you, offering you comfort and food. At first you didn’t take the comfort, mad at her still, but you gave in after the first 3 days, you felt so alone.

In her office, Carmilla was gathering and working on some paperwork, when she heard a knock on her front door, she demands one of her hellhounds to answer it, and then they come running back with their tail between their legs.

“Ma’am..it’s the radio demon” they inform. Carmillas eyes narrow. She stands up and thanked the hellhound, making her way to the door.

“Alastor?..Lovely to see you. I see you’ve returned after all that time..how are you?” She stated calmly with false politeness and welcome.

“Ah! Well I was quite busy you know! My business went a little longer than I wanted it to! “He continued to smile and speak in his usual upbeat tone. “Now for why I’m here…I haven’t forgotten about my precious girl, and I am thankful that you have been taking good care of her, but I can take her under my wings again” he said and held his hand out.

Carmilla narrowed her eyes. You were not his precious girl, not anymore. He abandoned you, and she wasn’t going to let that slide. “Actually..she is quite happy here now. She doesn’t wish to go back.” Carmilla stated, standing up tall and looking down at Alastor with a hard glare.

Alastors kept his smile, though a hint of malice was shown. “Oh I don’t think I was asking there Carmine. I want my daughter back.” He said a little more demanding.

“And I say no. You are no longer a guardian in her life. You left her in my hands to raise, and so I did. You are taking one of my children away, a mothers child. Do not come back here again” Carmilla sneered, trying to keep her cool. Alastors eyes narrowed at her.

“Now now, no need to get so pissy, just hand her over and I’ll be out on my way, don’t make me take her from you.” Alastor threats. He wanted to see you again. Sure he left you due to some…business, but he still loved you dearly.

“Leave. Respectfully. I do not want to force you either.” Carmilla placed her clenched hands behind her back, attempting to look more stern and calm. Alastor tried to walk into her house, but Carmilla blocked him, her sharp fangs bared and a glare on her face. “Leave us be.”

Alastor chuckled, angered and irritated. “I didn’t want to do this the hard way darling…” he grabbed his staff (???), and hit it on the ground, weird black tentacle looking things came out of the ground, headed towards Carmilla. Carmilla reacted fast, quick on her feet she dodged and jumped into the air, her angelic shoes sharp, she lands a kick on one of the tentacles, slicing it in half. Alastor sent another source of attack at Carmilla, some green gooish power. Dodging once again, Carmilla aims her attack At Alastor, kicking him harshly, Alastor grunts and gets thrown onto the ground, his mouth and head bleeding, smiling and growling softly he tries to get up, grabbing his staff(??). Bug before he could Carmilla stomped on it with her angelic shoes. Snapping it in half. She placed a leg over Alastors torso, inches away from sinking into it and stabbing him. “You have 10 seconds to leave before I end your pathetic life.” Carmilla sneered with pure venom.

Reluctantly, Alastor faded off, the black goo covering and disappearing while he leaves. “I’ll be back dear” he says before escaping to recover.

Carmilla led out a deep breath. Glaring at the small amount of black goo that was left behind. She looked up at the picture on the wall with you, her, and Clara and Odette.

“I will protect this family …no matter what.”

[straykeedz]

RIDING MEAN DOM SEUNGMIN PLEASEPLLEAS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IM BEGGING DACRYPHILLIA TOO OH I FEEL LIKE IM GOING TO GO FERAL

no ‘cause how did u know seungmin’s been wrecking me lately!!!! honestly i don’t think i’m good at writing dom!skz but i hope you enjoy this anyway!!! 🤧🩷

tw: afab!reader ; dom!seungmin ; seungmin’s dick is big ‘cause i said so ; he slaps reader’s ass a few times ; he calls reader a brat and the word slut is used a few times but they love each other very much i promise ; dacryphilia if you squint ; ♡

wc: less than 1k ; ♡

smut! minors dni. 18+ only.

seungmin watches closely as you sink down onto his length.

he’s got one hand tucked under his neck in a cocky pose, the other on your hip, eyes fixed on your face not to miss a single reaction of yours as his cock fills you up slowly inch by inch. he’s big and hard and the initial stretch is kinda painful, but you like it that way. a cocky smirk appears on his stupidly handsome face when you finally take all of him inside of you and a huff leaves your mouth.

“’s big, yeah?” his question is rhetoric, he knows it well.

you nod, eyes glistening a bit due to the slight burning sensation between your legs. seungmin is quick to react, his hand leaves your hip, and he taps your mouth with his pointer and middle finger. you open your mouth, wetting seungmin’s fingers with your own spit. after making sure they’re wet enough, he pulls them out and places them on your clit, touching you to get you to relax around him. it works.

“’s big, but you’re gonna take it like the brat you are, yeah?” you hum in agreement, but it’s not enough anymore. seungmin stops stimulating your clit, and before you know it, he lands a slap on your asscheek. you let out an obnoxious moan and your walls clench around his cock, squeezing it tighter - it catches seungmin by surprise, too. “words.”

“y-yeah. ‘m gonna take it. ‘m gon’ ride your big cock,” you bite on your lip, lifting your hips and finally starting to move up and down his length.

your legs give in, like, after a couple of minutes maybe, and seungmin notices the way your movements are slowing down. another slap on your ass that makes you whimper. “i can’t believe you’re tired already.”

“‘m sorry, minnie,” you halt your movements, resting your hands on his chest.

seungmin chuckles, shaking his head disappointedly. “ah, i spoiled you too much, didn’t i? made you a pillow princess,” he grabs your hip, looks you in the eye, “you want me to take control and fuck you, yeah?”

you nod. “please. please, minnie-“ you beg with tears in your eyes.

“not tonight. not now, at least,” he chuckles, squeezing your hip. he grunts when he sees your lips quiver and your teary eyes. “the things you do to me, fuck…”

“please. i’ll be your good gi- i’ll be your good slut. please, please fuck me,” you try to convince him.

you’re sitting on top of him. his cock fully sheathed inside of you, its leaking tip practically kissing your cervix and you’re begging him to fuck you. he could switch positions in the blink of an eye if he wanted to. if. wrap his delicious arm around your waist and flip you onto the bed, on your back, your legs spread to accommodate him, and he could fuck you mercilessly then and there. the thought is tempting, he has to admit.

“let’s make a deal, yeah?” he knows he’s got your attention now. “you ride me nice and good until you make your slutty pussy cum around my cock and then i’m gonna fuck you. in your favorite position, yeah?”

you shake your head as a no. seungmin raises his eyebrows, genuinely surprised by your rejection, but before he could open his mouth to speak - “i want’ you to fuck me in your favorite position.”

seungmin’s eyes roll in the back of his skull. you feel him twitch inside of you and maybe getting a little bit harder. “you want that? you want me to fuck you like that? ass up, face down?”

you nod, biting your lip. seungmin swears under his breath.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” seungmin sighs. “c’mon, fuck me. make yourself cum on my cock,” he grabs and squeezes your asscheek.

“min… feels big, min-“ you choke on your own moans, tears in your eyes as you fuck yourself on his cock. “i think i might-“

he smirks. “you think you might cum?” he mocks your tone. “already?”

“miiin…” you whine at his teasing.

“ah, you just love this cock, don’t you, brat?”

you sniffle, then nod, riding him just a little bit faster. you feel sore already. “i do. feels good. feels so good inside of me,” you pant. “‘m close, min, ‘m so close.”

“cum on this fat cock,” seungmin grunts, feeling your tight pussy squeezing him even tighter. “fuckin’ soak it, brat.”

“‘m cumming, ‘m-“

seungmin watches in awe the way your lips part as your body trembles and shakes before you collapse on top of him, resting your head on his chest, completely spent. he rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

“ah, you’re such a brat. making me do all the work every time,” he taps on your asscheek a couple of times, “c’mon. ass up, face down you brat. we had a deal, remember?”

and don’t think he doesn’t notice the smirk on your face. that’s how he knows this was your plan all along.

-> if you read this and you liked it, consider reblogging. it’s cool and it lets me know you actually enjoyed reading my work! ♡

[beesspacedotorg]

Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide. 

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”