#I had the urge to write about them so I did ...

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[nerdanel01]

No. 10 - Tipsy

Still holding his hand, grinning playfully, she bent her knees and bowed her head in mannered, practiced curtsy. Emmrich matched her smile and bowed his head in kind, before wrapping his free arm around her waist—and then, they were off, Agnes keeping time with her humming, Emmrich wheeling them around in the grass to match the pace she set: one, two, three; one, two, three; taking extra precautions to make sure he did not trample her bare toes beneath his dress shoes. 

…Strange, wasn’t it? Emmrich had done all of this for her, for Agnes. And yet somehow through his vicarious experience of her joy, through the dizzy, fizzy freedom of the champagne swimming in his blood, he found himself feeling so present, so whole, so much fuller than he had in a very long time. 

The melody of the song shifted—driving, mounting, a crescendo towards its conclusion. Emmrich lifted their hands once more, spun Agnes once, twice, three times in a row, her skirt rising with her momentum to twirl like a black wave around her knees as she laughed again in delight. Then Emmrich drew her back to him, and—hands tight about her waist to secure her (they were both, after all, a little tipsy)—dipped her body low over his bent knee. 

Cricketsong and river-breeze. Time had not stopped, but it felt like it had: like Emmrich’s heart had stopped beating, like he could not draw a breath. In a flash their dance had transformed from a fancy into… he did not know what. All he knew was that he could not pull his eyes away from the silver moonlight caught in her hair, the nervous smile on her face… the cold, then warm, then cold again shock of the world-tilting look of breathless anticipation, of hope in her eyes. 

The intrusive, wholly inappropriate urge to draw her warm, slender body against his and kiss her deeply. [read full fic]

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I've been in a little bit of a creative rut lately, but I really want to end the year on a positive note—I'm really proud of all the writing I did this year! So for the last ten days of 2024 I'm going to be reblogging my 10 favorite pieces that I wrote.

This chapter from for no mere mortal can resist is one of my favorites. I'm pretty sure it's the first time I wrote Emmrich's POV, and I loved the way shifting to his perspective at that point in the fic really shifted the dynamics of the story. It's also the first time I sent them to the opera. <3 And also, of course, I love Emmrich's little "oh, shit" moment here, which sort of kicks off the final action and climax of the fic.

[inkedinshadows]

An Angel on the Ice

A/N: happy @acotargiftexchange to you, @duskandcobalt! I'm your Secret Santa, finally here with your gift! I had so much fun getting to know you and your love for this wonderful couple. I'm so so sorry I made you wait till the very end, I've been busier than I expected. BUT!! I have a second little surprise coming for you in the next few days (probably on Christmas day). I came up with the idea while writing this fic, but I didn't know how to include it here, so it'll be a little drabble on its own. Without further ado, here's your gift. Enjoy! And congratulations for guessing what Az's surprise was!

Pairing: Azriel x Elain

Summary: Azriel takes Elain to the Illyrian mountains for a romantic surprise.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, fluff, FLUFF

The cold winter air hit Elain in the face as she stepped out of the little art shop and onto the street.

The snow that had fallen during the night still coated the cobblestones, blanketing everything in a thin layer of soft white. It had brought along the cold, so freezing that her wool hat did little to warm her.

Azriel followed her outside, a wing already curling protectively around her, drawing her closer to his side. Except he was carrying the bags full of the presents they'd bought for their family, and she was still walking a couple feet away from him.

“You know, you don't have to carry all of the bags,” she said, reaching out with a gloved hand to relieve him of some weight. “I can hold some.”

He moved his hand further away, out of her reach. “I know you can, angel,” he said with a soft smile. “I just don't want you to. You're cold. You should keep your hands in your pockets.”

“I'm wearing gloves,” she pointed out, though she didn't try to grab the bags again. She knew Azriel wouldn't let her. “I'm not cold.”

A small dimple appeared on his cheek as he smirked at her. Even after months together, Elain's heart skipped a beat at the sight, her fingers twitching at her side with the urge to touch it and place a soft kiss there.

“Then why are your nose and cheeks red?”

She rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “My sister was right. You Illyrians really are overprotective mother hens.”

Yet even as she said it, her hands slid back into the pockets of her coat. Azriel's smirk grew at the movement, but he didn't comment.

“We have to earn that title somehow,” he said instead. Elain laughed, and his smile became softer. “Let's go home.”

Home. There was a time when she'd thought the Night Court would never be her home. Only three years ago, it had felt impossible. Turned Fae against her will, shoved at a male she didn't know or want, with powers she had no idea how to control, and a broken engagement on top of it all… she'd felt hopeless.

But as she'd learned how to accept and navigate her new life, Azriel had been there to help her through it. Something had slowly changed between them, a feeling that grew inside her until she could no longer pretend it wasn't there. But acting on it had led to a denied kiss in the dead of the longest night of the year. A broken heart, that feeling of hopelessness again, and then the explanation, the argument with Rhysand, the rejection of her mating bond.

Elain stole a glance at Azriel. Just a Winter Solstice ago, he had told her it had been a mistake. And now here he was, carrying their bags full of presents, on their way to the small house they'd bought a few months ago.

“You're staring, angel.”

She couldn't help the smile that blossomed on her lips. “You're just so beautiful to look at.”

She knew the effect the words would have on him, but by the Mother, she would never get tired of the way his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. It was visible even now, when they were already reddened by the cold. It happened every time she called him beautiful, and it was one of the many things she loved about him.

“How many presents do you still have to buy?” she asked him, changing the topic to make him feel more comfortable. If they were at home, she might have teased him about his blush, but not in public.

“Just a couple,” he answered, the flush already disappearing from his cheeks. “But I know what I'll get them. The only one I miss is Cassian.”

“You can always get him beef jerky this year too,” she joked, avoiding an ice patch on the cobblestones.

Azriel glanced at her. She knew he was making sure she didn't slip on the street. Overprotective mother hen, indeed. Yet she immediately stepped back into the warmth of his wing around her.

“I might, actually,” he finally replied, no hint of joking in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed. But he looked completely serious. “You can't gift him beef jerky, Az! Two years in a row at that.”

“Why not? He likes it.”

Elain shook her head in disbelief. “Because he's your brother. You always come home with a new present for me, but you can't think of anything different for your brother?”

Azriel smirked. “I'm not in love with my brother, angel.”

It was her turn to blush now. She knew he loved her, of course. They'd said it before a thousand times. But Azriel had his own way of saying it when she least expected it — reminding her whenever he could, catching her off guard and making her heart beat faster every single time.

“You know that's not what I meant,” she mumbled. She preceded him up the few steps to their front door, her fingers stiff even inside the gloves. She fumbled with the key for a moment before she managed to turn it in the lock.

The warmth of the living room welcomed her inside, the smell of the bread she'd baked that morning still lingering in the air.

“It can be difficult to come up with something new and different after five hundred years,” Azriel said as he followed her in. He set the bags down before turning to face her. “You'll see.”

Elain took off her gloves, then her hat, his words swirling in her mind. “You know, it used to scare me,” she mused. “The thought of having eternity in front of me.”

Azriel watched her carefully. “But now it doesn’t?”

She shook her head, stepping closer. “No.” Her arms wrapped around him, and she rested her chin on his chest, tilting her head up to look at him. “Because now I get to spend it with you.”

His throat bobbed. She was the one who'd caught him off guard this time. At a loss of words, Azriel buried his fingers in her hair, angling her head so he could lean down and capture her lips in a kiss that left her dizzy. The kind of kiss that usually meant they would take things up to the bedroom. Or whatever nearest surface they could find.

But he pulled back instead. Elain's heart was already racing in her chest, and she was rising on her toes for another kiss when he spoke again.

“I have a surprise for you.”

She stopped, lowering herself onto her feet. “Winter Solstice is still a week away.”

With the holidays nearing, he’d stopped getting her little gifts out of nowhere. He said he wanted to wait because everything had to be perfect this year. Their first Solstice together.

“It's not a present,” he replied. His hand slid from her hair to her cheek, and she had trouble focusing as his thumb brushed her lip. “It's something I want to do with you. I wanted to wait till Solstice, but now it just feels like the right moment.”

Elain could only nod. “Okay,” she whispered.

His chuckle was a low rumble that resonated deep in her chest. “What happened, angel?” he asked softly. “Where did your voice go?”

“You're… distracting me.”

It took her a moment to snap out of it, to find the strength to step back and let his hand fall away from her face. But she didn't miss his smug grin at her admission.

She cleared her throat, trying to clear her mind as well and focus on Azriel’s surprise. “What do you want to do?” she asked as she reached for the first button of her coat.

Azriel's hand gently caught hers to stop her. “Keep it on,” he said. “We need to go back outside.” At her curious look, he added, “I want to take you to Rhys's cabin.”

Well, that was certainly a surprise.

“Rhys's cabin?” she repeated, even as she slid her gloves back on. “Why?”

He smiled, offering her the hat she'd hung on the coat rack. “It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, angel.”

“Right,” she chuckled. She made sure to grab a warm scarf as well this time before silently offering him her gloved hand.

Azriel took it in his larger one, and then they were winnowing out of Velaris and deep into Illyrian territory.

The first thing Elain noticed was the cold, her breath forming a faint puff in the air. Then she took in the snow that covered everything, white and bright under the afternoon sun.

Azriel's hand tightened around hers, and he guided her toward the cabin just a few yards away. The snow reached their calves, and never before had Elain been so glad to be wearing boots.

“I'm starting to question why you brought me here,” she mumbled, struggling to wade through the snow even as she followed directly in the path his footsteps left behind.

“I'm sorry, angel,” he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I promise it'll be worth it.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, sizing her up as if he was pondering picking her up and carrying her to the cabin. But a few more steps finally brought them to the door, and he ushered her inside.

Her breath caught as she looked up.

Every wall was covered in paint, drawings in a style that she immediately recognized as her sister’s.

“Are those…?”

Azriel nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Yes. Feyre painted them.” He let go of her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Wait here. I’ll get what we need.”

Elain watched him disappear down the hallway, wings tucked tight against his back. She sank onto the couch, admiring her sister’s artwork all over the room, its colors adding warm to the otherwise bare place.

Azriel was back in a matter of minutes, two pairs of shoes in his hands.

As he walked closer and took a seat next to her, she noticed the thin blades attached to the soles. She frowned even as she accepted the pair that he offered her. “What are these exactly?”

He was already working on swapping his boots with the new ones. “You’re asking a lot of questions today,” he quipped with a smile. “Put them on, angel. They’re Mor’s, but they should fit you. You’ll find out what they're for soon enough.”

Elain let out a dramatic sigh, hiding her own smile as she leaned down to take off her boots. “You’re lucky I love you, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I never once doubted it, angel.”

When she was done, he helped her stand, giving her just enough time to balance herself on those strange boots before he winnowed them again. She instinctively gripped his arm to steady herself as they reappeared on the shore of a frozen lake. She looked around, her eyes searching the snowy expanse, but there was nothing in sight expect the white mountains.

Before she could ask anything — despite knowing how slim her chances of getting a straight answer out of Azriel were — he stepped back. Right on the icy surface of the lake.

Elain gasped, expecting the ice to give way beneath him and send him plunging into the freezing water below.

But nothing happened. The ice didn't even creak under his weight. Azriel simply stood there, a smile on his beautiful face, and extended a hand toward her. “Come join me, angel.”

She hesitated, glancing down at his feet. Though she was standing on the same thin blades, she wasn’t moving, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t fall flat on her face if she tried to step forward.

“Why are we stepping on the ice?” she inquired, hoping to buy herself a little more time.

“We're skating,” Azriel explained, finally giving her an answer. To demonstrate, he glided backward a few feet, his wings flaring slightly to steady him before he slid back toward her. He gracefully stopped right at the edge of the lake. “You should give it a try.”

Elain didn't move. He made it look so easy, but who knew how many times he had done this before? He also made wielding a sword look easy.

“You won't fall, Ellie,” he reassured her, as if he had read her mind. He reached out with both hands. “And even if you do, I'll be here to catch you. I promise.”

She might not trust herself, but she trusted him — trusted that he would always be there to catch her if she fell. So she took his hands and slowly set one foot on the ice, then the other.

Azriel smiled at her, his fingers firm around hers. “That's it, angel. We'll take it one step at a time. Just bend your knees a little and follow my lead.”

She did as he asked and when he moved back, he gently pulled her along. Her feet glided over the surface of the lake, leaving faint lines behind.

He gave her a few instructions, guiding her further from the shore, never letting go. Slowly, Elain became more confident, more stable on her feet as she got used to the movements. It reminded her of a dance, one that could be elegant and beautiful when someone was skilled. She made a mental note to tell Nesta about it later.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she asked. Azriel was holding only one of her hands now, and they skated side by side. Still slowly, but they had gained some speed. “It doesn't seem like a typical Illyrian activity.”

Azriel laughed. It was that beautiful, deep laugh he reserved just for her. “You're right. It's not.” His laughter softned, but its warmth lingered in his voice. “It's common in the Winter Court. Viviane taught Mor a few centuries ago, and she taught the rest of us.”

He slowed them to a stop, shifting to stand in front of her. “I never thought I would, but I took a liking to it.”

Elain smiled up at him. “I think I like it too.”

“I thought you might.” He brought her hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on her gloved knuckles. “Want to try skating on you own?”

She thought about it for a moment, then she nodded. “Alright. But don't wander too far, okay?”

Azriel's smile was bright and soft. “Never, angel.”

He let go of her hand and moved a few feet away from her. At first, she faltered without his grip to steady her, but she quickly adjusted, his earlier instructions echoing in her mind.

For every step she took toward him, Azriel moved further back. Elain felt like a child learning to walk, her movements awkward but growing more confident with every push of her foot. Soon, gliding over the ice came naturally. And Azriel was always there, his hands outstretched to catch her if she fell. But she didn’t.

When he stopped and she reached him again, his hazel eyes were bright with pride and love. “You did it, Ellie.”

“Yes,” she replied, already intertwining their fingers again. “But don't let go of my hands again.”

Azriel's brow furrowed. “Why? You did great. You didn't even stumble.”

“I know.” Elain smirked, unable to hide her own satisfaction from her little accomplishment. “I just want to hold your hand.”

His expression softened, and a smile spread across his lips. That adorable dimple appeared once again, and with it came back her need to kiss it. Damn skates, she couldn't rise on her toes with those on.

“I will never let you go, angel,” he promised.

And he didn't.

Elain had no idea how much time they spent on that lake. It was just him and her, lost in the snowy mountains in the middle of nowhere. The silence was broken only by their laughter and quiet words. It felt as though they were the only two people in the world, free from worries and duties, lost in this moment, in each other, in a love born from quiet understanding and gentle touches.

The sun was setting by the time Azriel came to a halt, wrapping his strong arms around her. “We should probably get back,” he murmured, his voice soft as if to preserve the moment. “It's getting late.”

“And cold,” she added. Without the warm sunlight, the already cold air had turned into a freezing bite. Her scarf and hat didn't help much, and even Azriel's warmth couldn't stop her gloved hands from stiffening.

“We could take a hot bath,” she suggested. “Or I could make us some hot chocolate and we can cuddle in front of the fireplace.”

Azriel smirked, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “And losing the chance of seeing your gorgeous body? I think I'll choose that bath, angel.”

Elain's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I… didn't mean it like that.”

His face fell slightly as worry creeped into his eyes. “You know we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, angel. I'm sorry if I assumed—”

She cut him off with a soft smile. “Az, I just hadn't thought about it. I'd love to take a bath together.” She cupped his face with her small hands, her voice barely above a whisper. “Take me home, Shadowsinger.”

His arms tightened around her, and he winnowed them away without another word, her laughter echoing in the now-empty glade.

dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

[harpsinfinity]

If needs must - part 2

part 1

Nsfw warning !! This took so long to write 😕

Credit to @cafekitsune for banner

Your ears were ringing, as if loud sirens were going off and you were unable to turn them off. Your eyes cracked open, just barley noticing you were now in a different room. you were on the floor in Carlos' arms as he gently shook you awake. His voice made apparent to your ears, his lips were right next to your ear. You winced when you felt a sharp tingle shoot straight between your thighs.

"You're alive.. God, you had me worried there for a second" Carlos let out a nervous breath as he studied you like a hawk, you're facial expressions, body movements.

"Carlos.." you rasp, your eyes finally zeroing in on him. You begin to think, when was he so attractive? The way his hair looked so soft, almost covering those beautiful brown eyes that bore into yours. your fingers ached to touch it, play with it.

The sight of his large biceps buldging out of his shirt made you suppress a low moan, rubbing your thighs together in a pitifully attempt to aid the growing ache between them. You were practically drooling over your partner.

Your flushed face and heated gaze must have been a sign to Carlos that the mist had infected you with something. And he was about to find out, you were already burning up quickly, as if you were on fire. Stray hair stuck to your skin and your clothes were plastered with sweat, and it was difficult to ignore the increasingly noticeable slick building in your core.

"you feelin' okay? Any pain or discomfort? Christ, you're burnin' up" he commented with a hand pressed to your forehead, Carlos fortunately recognised what that flower had done to you - taught to him in training, the plant had aphrodisiac properties. Luring prey in with the sweet aroma and spraying them with the substance in self defense. He swallowes thickly as he had an idea of what was about to happen

He knew that If the substance wasn't flushed from your system soon, it would send your body into overdrive with the intense hormones it was creating and cause your heart to stop. Your heart as a ticking time bomb.

He had to fuck you, or you'd die.

Every fibre inside of you was screaming at you to pounce on him, ride him until you could no more, you needed to satisfy the involuntary carnal urges you had developed. The heat that had pooled in your pussy was getting unbearable, you desperately clenched around nothing. You were just begging to be stuffed, to have something to clamp down on.

He called your name once more,

Instead of answering him verbally, today you decided actions spoke louder than words,

Without warning, you smushed your lips against his, the force causing him to fall back against the wall and you situating yourself in his lap.

You moaned against his lips as you locked them with yours deeply. fingertips tangled in his hair, just as soft as you imagined. The other hand decided to place itself on his stubbled jaw.

It was like you were in heaven from just a kiss, he grunted as your tongue slid into his mouth, feeling his. A whimper melted into the kiss at the taste of him, you felt like an animal. Wild, uncontrollable, you just wanted to eat him alive.

It felt like the edge was just about being scratched off, which provided some clarity when you managed to pull yourself away from him, which you mentally cursed at the loss of his lips. Enough clarity to realise what situation you were in.

That was when you lock eyes with Carlos, his lips slightly parted in suprise as he panted in your face and his cheeks dusted in a light pink

Fuck, what did you just do? Your face felt hot, the gnawing feeling of shaming creeping up on you.

"oh..oh fuck Carlos- I'm- I couldn't-" you stutter waiting for him to push you off and abandon you in this building and probably never talk to you again. Your eyes are screwed shut, waiting for it to happen.

Instead, he brought his hand to the side of your face, pulling you closer with your lips just millimeters apart, coaxing you to open your eyes. "We both know what that damn plants' done to you. You need this, need to get it out of your system'

his eyes were soft and understanding, letting you press your face into the hand on it. It felt a moment of comfort, that was quickly ruined by the burning arousal wrecking havoc over you. Your brows furrowed as you whined, hips jerking against his, gasping when you felt your poor clit bump into the growing bulge in Carlos' pants.

Carlos seemed to understand as he pulled you back in for another searing kiss, his free hand making work of your belt and slipping into your pants.

The rough pads of his fingers found your clit, teasing the poor, swollen bud in quick circles. It throbbed and ached even with the small bit of relief you were being given. You break the kiss to let out a moan, everything felt a thousand times for sensitive than usual. Your hips bucked at the pleasure, hands gripping at his shirt.

"easy now, pretty girl, we'll fuck out whatevers in your system" he purred in your ear. his deep, rough voice make you clench around nothing once again.

"Carlos- please, I can't-"

You were cut off by a sharp moan as two of his thick fingers circled your slick hole. You gasped and moaned as they filled you up so nicely, with a cry out stuffed your head against the crook of his neck. His scent drove you wild as your eyes rolled back in bliss.

Your head tips back, exposing the column of your neck. Carlos swiftly attached his lips to it, pressing wet, sloppy kisses along your throat. Your hand snaked it's way into his hair again, gently tugging at the roots. He groaned at the sensation before continuing with his action. He occasionally left butterfly kisses as he worked his way down, your moans going straight to his cock.

It felt like your head was full of cotton, brain reduced to a gooey mess oozing out your ears as he quickly found the spot that had you clenching down and producing more slick, running down his wrist.

Your ears burnt with embarrassment as the obscene squelches made themselves known every time his fingers pumped in and out of your slick hole.

With every curl of his fingers, he hit that spot, it had your toes curling and your vision blurring. You couldn't help but notice the delicious flex of his muscles, the way his bicep strained against his shirt. You were almose drooling at the thought of biting it.

His thumb pressed itself against your clit again, breaking you out of your thoughts and earning a needy, desperate keen from you. The coil in the pit of your stomach was tightening so fast, you couldn't control yourself and the noises that were so easily forced out of you.

"that's it, let it all out" he murmured against your skin. his voice was enough to make you squirt on the spot

"ohmygod ohmygod I'm gonna-"

The hand in his hair tightened as the other one gripped his back, your blunt nails threatened to sink into his skin.

With a few more jabs of his fingers, that became a reality. Blinding bliss encased you as you drenched his fingers and the fabric of your pants. It wasn't long before the white like that spotted your vision began to dissapear.

You moan in relief, a part of the burning fire inside you had been doused. The warm hand rubbing up and down your back soothingly was what helped you return to reality. But it still wasn't enough, even when you were slumped against him.

"i need..I need.."

he shushes you as the clink of his belt buckle is noticed, shucking down his pants and boxers enough to free his cock. Just the sight of it had you pulsing and aching all over again, it looked so big, so perfect. It was exactly what you'd been craving so much.

''I know what you need, gonna make it all better" he presses a kiss to your lips before lowering you onto your back, the cool tile felt soothing against your burning skin

He fully pulled your pants off, running his hands across your inner thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to his gaze.

'ready?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours. You nod frantically the need to be stuffed by his fat cock growing by the second

"yes, m' ready" You responded, still recovering from the first orgasm he had given you.

your eyes shot open as the head of him began to press inside of you. A long, drawn out moan spilled from your lips as you gripped his shoulders. His cock stretched your hole out so beautifully, any pain quickly turned into absolute bliss.

His hips were flush against yours, with his cock nestled deep inside of you, pressing up against that sweet spot inside of you. You immediately tightened around him, your body begging him not to let go. He let out a deep moan that had butterflies erupting in your stomach

Carlos was letting you adjust to his size, but you had another plans as you wiggled your hips and whined

"carlos- please move- need it so bad"

Your brows were furrowed, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, and your bottom lip jutted out in a needy look.

When he gave in, your eyes were rolled back and your spine arched in the mind numbing ecstacy that took over your body. His thrusts hit spots you had no idea existed, they were hard and deep. You clung to him, legs tightening around his waist and your hands wrapping around his back, nails digging into the skin through his shirt.

your entire body pulsed and writhed with pure ecstacy. Your hips met his with every thrust, the patch of dark curls at the base of him catching your poor pearl each time.

Carlos planted both hands at the side of your head before leaning down and sandwiching your bodies together. He mouthed at your neck once more. You were sure your throat was going to be sore with all the keens that were being wretched from you.

His lips met yours once more, this time it was messy and desperate. You let your noises travel into the kiss and drool slip down the corners of your mouth. His lips felt good on yours, too good.

You could once again feel the intense burn of an approaching orgasm build up again, your body beginning to tremble and twitch. Carlos felt the same feeling, his dick throbbing and twitching inside of you.

"i-i think I'm-" you squealed, clamping down on him so tightly that he let out a throaty moan in response, your back arched against his broad chest as your breath became laboured and your chest heaved, mouth wide open

"c'mon, let go, do it. Right now" he rasped against your lips.

You smash your lips against his for the final time, drenching his cock and your thighs with a loud moan and your eyes rolled back into your skull, only the whites visible

He was right behind you, begining to lose his rhythm and replacing it with a sloppy, desperate rhythm to reach his own end with his grunts and groans becoming more frequent and breathy. You were sure you heard a whimper in there too.

"fuck- oh fuck-"

With a grunt he emptied himself inside of you, filling you impossibly full with his come. it made you moan in delight and relief, you could finally relax without the ache between your legs and the possibility your heart could explode. Dying from being too horny would've been embarrassing.

You felt limp and he followed you, almost crushing you with his weight. The soft tuffs of his hair tickled against your face, making your huff in amusement

After a moment, Carlos breaks the silence

"damn, might need to use that plant more often if this is the outcome"

You smacked him upside the head

"Carlos !"

The report you'd have to fill in after this mission was going to be awkward, that was for sure.

[beef-brisket]

((I just want to say this is itching my urge to write the most violent shit ever. I love it so much 😫))

Alastor stared where Adam once was, before quickly leaving. He still couldn't feel his powers as he ran through Cannibal Town.

He held his eye as he ran, blood poured down his face and hand. Alastor hasn't felt fear like this in years. Sure, he was afraid during that last extermination, when Adam nearly cleaved him I half, but he still had his powers. He could get away.

But whatever Adam has become is so much stronger than that day. Nothing should be able to make him powerless. To drain him.

-

Vaggie waited in the lobby, waiting for Lucifer. He was trying to get through to Charlie again.

She looked up as he walked down the stairs.

Vaggie: Any luck?

Lucifer sighed: No. She hasn't spoken in days... I don't want to rush her, but I may have to just... teleport in there.

Vaggie nodded. She doesn't want to force Charlie to interact, but everyone's getting worried.

Lucifer stood in front of Vaggie. They both tried to work out what to do, but we're interrupted by Alastor bursting through the door.

Alastor: Abaddon! It's- it's him! T-Their dead!

Vaggie stared wide-eyed at Alastor. Husk dropped his glass. He's never seen Alastor like this, and he's bleeding.

He quickly made his way over to Alastor: Boss- the fuck happened?

Alastor: Adam! He's- the one doing all of this!

Lucifer rolled his eyes: Adam's dead, bellhop. Dead dead. Like, angelic blade, mushing up his chest, dead.

Alastor: Look. At. Me! He took my eye! Everyone in Cannibal Town is dead! Rosie- I... I couldn't even find her... but she's gone!

Vaggie: Alastor- are you sure it's Adam? You didn't see what we saw. I promise you, Alastor, he's dead-.

Alastor: Shut up! I know what I saw! He was right in front of me! He took my fucking eye!

Lucifer: Seems like an improvement. But fine. If you're soooo worried, I'll look into the situation-.

Charlie: Adam...?

Everyone turned around and saw Charlie standing at the top of the stairs. She looked exhausted, like she hadn't slept in days.

Vaggie: Charlie... hun, are you okay?

Charlie walked over to them: I'm fine- Al?!

Alastor was in pure panic. It took hours to calm him down, and that was only because his powers started to return to him.

Lucifer said nothing through the whole ordeal. He doesn't know what to believe. There's no way Adam could still be alive. He died. Lucifer watched it.

Lucifer: There's no way...

-

In the far corners of the Pride ring, an ancient mansion sat on a hill. There was a green glow in one of the upper windows.

Zestial had just returned of dealing with some contracts and returned home.

He's heard about the recent murders, but it was the more high-profile murders that have his attention.

He mourned Carmilla and her daughters. That was something he had never dreamed of happening.

Zestial lights his fire and sits down to enjoy the heat. With a glass of wine in his hand, he settles in.

Zestial: Unfortunate...

Adam: I don't think so.

Zestial jumps and spins around. He glares at the large man suddenly in his home. Standing, Zestial's eyes widen as he sees a human man just as tall as him.

Zestial: ...who are you? How did you get in here?

Adam: I would say it wasn't important, but that would be a lie, I'm a pretty big fucking deal~.

Zestial went to attack the man, but he flew back because of a strong kick to his chest. He screamed as he landed back first into the fire.

Adam lent against Zestial's tall chair, and watched the man burn and claw his way out of the fire.

Adam: Damn, man. That looked like it hurt!

Zestial managed to make his way out of the fire, and writhed on the floor for a few minutes.

Zestial- W-Who are you-?!

Adam: Aw, you really want to know, huh? Alright, old guy. My father gave me a new name recently, Abaddon. But, you might recognize Adam a bit more~.

Zestial twitched and shook, slowly rising from the floor.

Zestial: T-The first- man?

Adam: Duh~.

Zestial panicked as the man suddenly spawned a large axe. It gleamed in the firelight, making it and the weilder look that much more threatening.

Zestial: W-What do you want-?

Adam: Oh, nothing really... just your head~.

Tormentor of souls au

Darkness surrounded him like a blanket. Only he was no way comfortable or felt safe. He felt fear grip him like iron as he tried to make even a sliver sense of his situation. He could barely a muscle, if he had any muscle to pull. It felt like he had nothing to move, was this what happened to the souls he exorcised? 

Were they to end up here for eternity, slowly being drove insane with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company? Adam couldn’t even try to open his mouth to speak, well he did try, but the only words that would escape from him were from within his mind. In his mind he sighed, he was just so tired, he didn’t have any strength to fight, to argue that he shouldn’t be here. Yet what exactly was the point? He’d only tire himself further out. 

He had to admit it, he was stuck here, for all eternity. Much the same as a sinner. 

That was when he saw it a flicker of light. Not just any light, a pure white light. A light that was so familiar, one that brought him joy when it spoke to him in his booming voice.

His creator 

“GREETINGS MY SON. IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE LAST SPOKE TO YOU AND FOR THAT I APOLOGIZE”

Adam didn’t care he was just so thankful to be in his creator’s presence.

“MY SON I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE LIVED A LIFE OF HARDSHIP AND THAT IT DID NOT STOP EVEN WHEN YOU PERISHED.” 

He tried to not flinch at that. Thinking about his first life brought too many unpleasant memories.

“THAT IS WHY IT BRINGS ME PAIN TO ASK YOU OF THIS, BUT I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE ONCE MORE. I KNOW OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE THESE PAST FEW CENTURIES, AND I HAVE TO SAY THAT IT WAS NOT THE SOLUTION”

Adam could not believe what he was hearing. His own creator believed that they, the murderers and rapists, deserved to be redeemed!?

“HELL IS MEANT TO BE A PUNISHMENT, ETERNAL TORMENT OF THE SINS LUCIFER CORRUPTED WITH HIS WAY OF FREE WILL. HOWEVER MANY OF THEM DON’T SEE IT THAT WAY. TO THEM HELL IS MERELY A PLAYGROUND WHERE RULES NO LONGER MATTER. I HAVE SEEN TRUE MONSTROUS ACTS THE WICKED HAVE BROUGHT WITH THEM FROM LIFE. THEY CARRY IT MOST OUT ON THE TRUE CITIZENS OF HELL, THE ONES THAT HAD NO SAY IN BEING THERE OR NOT.”

The hell born, Adam thought taking in the Lord’s words

“I KNOW I AM NOT THEIR CREATOR, NOR DO THEY CALL ME FATHER, BUT I HAVE HEARD THEIR PLEAS FOR HELP TO BE SAVED FROM THE ACTS OF THE WICKED, OF ALL WICKED. UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE BORN DOWN THERE, BUT I CAN STOP THE SINNERS FROM HURTING THEM AND THAT IS WHERE I NEED YOUR HELP”

Adam had never put much thought into the hellborn. To him they were simply there and as long as they got in his way during the exterminations they weren’t a problem. There was the princess, but he didn’t really count her. He was curious however as to what the Lord wanted him to do.

“THE SINNERS NEED PUNISHMENT, AND THE HELL BORN NEED PROTECTION. YOU CAN BE THEIR PROTECTOR BY BECOMING THE PUNISHER.”

 With a simple snap of his creator’s fingers Adam felt something shift within him, in his very essence he changed. A warm feeling engulfed him whole and then he knew no more.

((Oh shit- I love everything about this! God needs to fuck off and let our boy rest!

Sorry this took me a hot second to get to- and I hope my reply does yours justice 😝))

Charlie is in full work mode and has been since the failed extermination ended. Since finding out Sir Pentious ended up in Heaven.

For months, she had been working hard. It was so hard that she somehow missed the latest gossip going around the Pride Ring.

Sinners ending up missing, only to resurface months later completely different. Scared. Traumatized.

Many didn't think much of it. This is Hell. There's always some crazy bastard out there doing shit.

But, it was when they became too scared to even function, too scared to ever be normal again, too scared that they would rather turn an angelic blade on themselves than to live with the possibility of going through whatever it is they've gone through.

Charlie was actually getting quite concerned. Especially when she heard Angel talking about it one night at Husks bar.

Angel: I fucking tell ya, kitty. People a shit scared. I've never seen the clubs so empty!

Husk shook his head: Must be the worst of the worst, huh?

Angel scoffed, downing his drink: Nah, babe. It's something else. It ain't no sinner.

Husk: Hellborn?

Angel: Those guys are freaky. Don't get me wrong, but their not THAT freaky. I had a client who said he was taken for three months. Three. That's fucking child's play. But the shit he said happened to him... fucking skinning, to pouring acid down his throat. Fuck mam, the sick ficker even dug around I'm his muscle and tendons!

Angel shook his head: There's something going on... even Val has lowered the workload.

Husk: Pft. Fuck. That's how you know it's serious.

Angel: Damn fucking right.

Charlie stood at the top of the stairs, listening to Angel's story. She was shocked but not surprised. She wasn't sure why this person has the sinners so scared, but sury it's nothing new.

She probably should make sure Al isn't behind this. She's only heard a few tales of his exploits so she wouldn't put it past him.

-

Alastor: Hm. So you've heard the rumors, too. While I'm flattered, I don't appreciate being confronted in such a way.

Vaggie: Just- fucking answer her, Alastor.

Alastor sighed, leaning on his cane: No, it's not me. I've been too busy here! And my kills stay dead when I'm finishing them~.

Charlie wasn't sure if she liked that answer, but it was good enough.

She apologized to Alastor, ams watched him leave.

Vaggie: ...I don't know, Charlie.

Charlie: I don't know either...

Vaggie: I'm sure it's nothing. Besides, you have more important things to deal with here, hun. You shouldn't get mixed up in sinner issues.

Charlie sighed: I know. I just... surely, it's a coincidence that this starts after the failed extermination... that was my fault. Simmered died because of me- I put my friends in danger! I feel like I owe it to everyone to at least try and solve it.

Vaggie smiled and pulled her girlfriend onto a soft hug.

Vaggie: I know you feel like that, hun. But you don't owe anyone anything... besides, if it's that bad, you could just ask Lucifer. He said he was looking for something to do.

Charlie: Hm... that's... a good idea, actually! I'll get dad on the case!

-

Lucifer: Me on the what now? Charlie, why should I care about whatever is going on with those sinners? Their... you know... sinners.

Charlie: Dad, please? Our guests are sinners. We need them to be safe. So please. Look into this for me? Even just a little bit?

Lucifer sighed. He really didn't want to do this. But, seeing the hopeful, pleading look on his daughters face, eventually changed his mind.

Charlie: Oh- thank you, dad, thank you!

Lucifer smiled as Charlie pulled into a hug. But when she felt and heard his back crack, she slowly put him down.

Charlie: S-Sorry dad!

Lucifer laughed through the pain: It's okay, Charlie - nothing I can't handle! I-I better start hunting a... whatever the fuck this is!

[haru-chi]

(I don't read their manga so all I'm gonna say is purely my theories and assumptions or maybe wishful thinking on my part to suit my taste, so I'd be really grateful if manga readers don't spoil anything for me be it I hit the nail or not)

in this anime the story really starts from Himmel's death and the impact his death left on Frieren more than she actually thought resulting in her being left with deep regret. His death left no impression on me at first tbh. I mean we don't know anything about him enough to care, Heiter's death was more impactful at least to me ...

but then the more I watch the more I realize the core of this story as much as it's Frieren's journey to understand human's emotions so not to repeat the same mistake twice as much as it's about getting to know Himmel's with her so it's gonna be the death that breaks you down later on kind of way.

I thought it was cleaver that we were put in the same boat as her, we actually know nothing about him like her, so through this journey we're also gonna get to know the "real" Himmel with her.

the more she'll learn about human's emotions the more she'll understand alot of things she might've brash it away cuz she either never pay attention or don't get the real meaning of his words/actions like the fact that he actually LOVED her :)

something else that got me thinking is this ..

at the end of his funeral, she was left staring to this ring for a while ... so LISTEN TO ME .. what if this ring here is a gift from him to her ...

what if it was from the time he confesses his love to her or even worse he proposed to her but she either didn't get what he actually meant or declined or something between those lines aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa STOP ME FROM DIGGING DEEPER OMG

so, through this journey she'll learn the true meaning of those words and feelings the more she learns about human's emotions .. and the worse part what if she realized she was in love with him too by the end of the story but never understand her own feelings ????

she said she's gathering new magics cuz he was praising her whenever she learned something new, also the ghost she saw was Himmel's ghost not her teacher as she was expecting so that proves she actually care about him more than she herself realize ><

this gonna be very tragic, yet I wants this to be the core of the story since I'm just weak for those kinds of stories AND I'M ALREADY CRYING EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW IF I'M RIGHT OR NOT YET I GET EMOTIONAL SEEING THEM TOGETHER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND !!!!

I don't know how and why my mind decided to go wild with those ideas that now I see the anime and its story differently than what I signed up for at first ... WHY AM I IN LOVE WITH A DEAD MAN YET AGAIN !!!!! I THOUGHT I SURIVIVED WHEN HE DEAD BEFORE I DEVOLOP ANY EMOTIONS FOR HIM YET HERE I AM IN THIS HELL BECAUSE OF HIM AND FRIEREN !!!!! T^T

Did I hit the nail ?? did I ?? please say I did so that I can be happy this shaping up to be my kind of tragic story .. but then I don't wanna know or hear any spoilers ... I'm tempted to jump to the manga to see if I'm right or not but I must resist till the anime end at least ><

[thedeadthree]

🌸💕

I FEEL OKAY !!!!!!!!! I FEEL FINE ! REALLY!!!!!! THE HUG SCENE HAD NO EFFECT ON ME IM NOT CRYING!

[gentlethorns]

I MISS WHEN I WAS WRITING MY NOVEL. now i'm in the boring part where i'm just doing nothing and waiting for feedback on it

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Touch of Madness

Logan Howlett X girlfriend!reader

Summary: Logan comes to you after being away, and all he wants is your touch, and he knows just how to get on your good side. This is just porn without plot.

Takes place in the same universe as Too Sweet but can be read as standalone

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, couch sex, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, the claws make an appearance (I have a thing for his claws okay), Logan is obsessed with his girl, fluffy relationship, established relationship

WC: 3.9k

A/N: how did I make this longer than too sweet when it was supposed to be a Drabble. Hello idk how to write short shit. But like hello yall are so awesome? I appreciate all the love yall have given my first Logan fic. I also have an older Logan fic in the works but that one has plot so it’ll be a minute before its out. For now here this <3

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were driving him mad. It’s not like he deserved your anger. Not fully anyway. It wasn’t his fault he was gone this long. He had been thinking about you all week, about your soft lips, about the warmth of your thighs, about your sweet moans only for his ears to hear. And all he wanted was to pull you into his arms and take you, over and over, until you begged him to stop. 

But no. 

You were being childish. That’s what he called it anyway. 

“Sweet girl,” he called after you, like a puppy following close behind you as you strided around your apartment. He knew you were doing it on purpose, the excuse of having to do chores so you could elongate his torture. The way you so innocently looked back at him made him clench his jaw. “C’mon.” 

“Don’t sweet girl me, Logan. I told you, I’m busy.” You sassed him, huffing as you kept walking, finding the most insignificant of chores to waste your time with. He rolled his eyes at you, eyebrows furrowed into this perpetual gaze of annoyance. 

The truth was, you were aching for him, your thighs warm and your skin tingling solely at the thought of him taking you to do as he pleased. But, if there was something in this world you could be, it was petty. And if you had to suffer a whole week without him, he could suffer for an hour, even if it was also at your expense. Truly, you almost enjoyed the annoyance in his face, the sharpness in his voice, him damn near groaning behind you every time you evaded him under the excuse of needing to get some dumb chore done. 

“You’re killin’ me here, sugar.” He actually groaned this time, his jaw set. You stopped in your tracks and turned your head to look at him, shooting him a pointed look. “I said I was sorry.”

“Serves you right. And I don’t care if you’re sorry. You haven’t called me in a week.” Your words were sharp with bitterness and it dawned on him. That was why you were upset. A slight bit of humor tugged at the corner of his lips and he breathed out a laugh. You stared at him with blank eyes, you weren’t laughing. 

“C’mon, is that seriously why you’re upset? You know I was out of the state.” He tried to reason with you. Charles had entrusted him and Storm with finding a certain mutant that was causing havoc, three states over. And Logan had very much underestimated how long this would take them. So here he was, after a whole week away, damn near begging you to let him touch you. “It wasn’t like I wanted to go anyway.”

No, he would much rather be with his sweet girl, one that was being particularly difficult and making him suffer when all he wanted to do was hold you, to feel the warmth of your soft skin. 

He stepped into your personal space, his intoxicating scent almost making you give in. You counted to five in your head, eyes closed to remind yourself that you were, indeed, angry at him. 

“So? You got a phone, don’t you? You could’ve called me.” You huffed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a small pout, Logan had to hold back the urge to laugh at you. “You can’t disappear for a week and expect to come here and do as you please.” 

You shot him a sharp glare, he just stared at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden shot of confidence. His sweet girl was talking back to him? Giving him attitude? He tilted his head at you, almost as if to dare you to walk away from him.  

There was a bit of malice in your eyes as you gave him one last look before you walked away, thinking of what other useless chore you could add to continue his torture. But Logan had other thoughts in his head. If you weren’t going to behave, he would happily put you in your place. 

“Hey, c’mere or I’m gonna bring you here myself.” He called after you, the strings of his sanity hanging on by a thread, just waiting for you to tug at the last strand. He knew you too well. You turned your head, eyes big in feign innocence and you tilted your head at him in defiance. 

“Make me then.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. In hindsight you should have known better, but you also wanted to see just what could happen if you pushed him hard enough. You saw the way his eyes flashed with malice, he stared you down, and in that moment you remembered just how small you were compared to him. “Oh fuck.” 

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through you, but it wasn’t like you could go outrun him, especially not in your tiny apartment. He caught you, though he did purposely chase you into your living room, simply because he wanted to get you going, pumped with adrenaline. You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you against his chest. His sharp canines nipped at that one spot on your neck that had you whimpering. 

“You goin’ somewhere, sugar?” He husked, his lips hot on your cheek. You couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, eyes closed. God, you missed him. 

“Mhm, still mad at you.” You mumbled, barely hanging on to your silly grudge. A chuckle rumbled in Logan’s chest. 

“That’s alright. I don’t need you to be happy with me to do what I want to do.” He inhaled, breathing your sweet scent, and he spoke as he threw you over his shoulder. “Just need you to look pretty while I do it.” 

You weren’t complaining about your position, you were in fact, bursting into giggles as he effortlessly carried you to the couch, though your giggles turned into another squeal when he smacked his hand flat against your ass. Logan had a grin on his lips as he tossed you on the couch, wasting no time in spreading your legs apart to settle between them.

He leaned down, gripping the armrest above your head, caging you in as he leaned down. He brushed his nose against yours, sighing softly.

“Don’t be such a brat. Kiss me.” The words rumbled in his chest with a groan, his primal needs overcoming his senses. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling into a hard and heated kiss.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as he shrugged off his flannel, tossing it somewhere on the floor, his belt soon following the same fate. You tried to sit up against the armrest, but you quickly realized Logan had other plans deep in his perverted mind. With a hold of your ankle he dragged you down on the couch, your back flat on the surface as you looked up at him with big eyes.

“Stay just like that, pretty.” He spoke, pressing another heated kiss to your mouth before tugging off your sweatpants, followed by your panties. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, somewhere you would have to run around searching for later. But you couldn’t give a fuck about that. All you could focus on was the heat forming between your legs as Logan settled between them.

His eyes met with yours one last time before he was diving in between your warm thighs. His tongue licked long stripes from your hole up to your clit, circling around the sensitive nerve before going back down. Over and over until your soft gasps and sighs of pleasure turned into moans. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open to do as he pleased. One leg hung over the back of the couch and the other was thrown over his shoulder, and he effortlessly held you down as he shoved his tongue into your cunt. He was like an animal, insatiable as he took you on his tongue.

“Oh fuck. Shit—Logan—” Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as you whined. You gripped the back of the couch, soft twitches taking over you each time his nose brushed your clit.

It was no secret that Logan found pleasure in giving you yours, and he ate you like it. Grunts and hums rumbled in his chest as his tongue found your clit again, and he reveled in the particularly high pitched cry you let out when he slipped two fingers into your wet core. 

“Needed to taste you so fuckin’ bad. I thought about it all week.” He spat into your clit, groaning at the way your tight walls squeezed his fingers. He could only imagine what you would do when it was his cock stretching your walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted, fingers lacing in his hair as he lapped at your clit. You wished you could hold your pleasure, rivet in it for just a little bit longer, but the way he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot, the way his tongue was so relentless on your swollen clit, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my—”

Your words never left your throat, chest pounding with sheer adrenaline as your release coated his face and fingers. It was sudden, it left you breathless as your thighs twitched with aftershock. Your eyes were wide and glossy in shock as you shuddered with the remnants of your orgasm. It wasn’t until you pathetically attempted to drag yourself away that Logan stopped. You were shaking, gasping softly when he pulled his fingers from you, but you all but cried when he licked at your wet pussy, getting a taste of you.

“Logan, please I can’t—” Your voice was shaky as you tried to move away from his face, he chuckled at you, pressing his face against your inner thigh before he crawled up to your face.

“‘Is okay. You did good.” He kissed your lips, his large hands holding your face as he let you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned, clenching around nothing already in anticipation of him filling you. “You wanna stop?”

“No, no, no! Need you, please!” You were quick to protest, wrapping your legs around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere. You couldn’t really stop him from doing anything, but he found it endearing that you tried. He bumped his nose against yours, lips pulled up into a tiny smile.

“Need me where, hm?” He opened his eyes to look at you, and truly how he didn’t bend you over the nearest flat surface the second he saw you was beyond his comprehension. You looked so perfect like this, underneath him, clinging to him. His sweet girl. He didn’t know what it was about you, but from the moment he met you he was done for. You drove him absolutely mad and now he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Inside me, Logan. Please.” You sighed out, face flushed with embarrassment. He smoothed out the frown lines on your forehead with a tiny kiss. A sweet gesture in comparison to what he was about to do to you.

In one swift motion he had you bent over the armrest, with your ass to him and your chest flat against the armrest. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as you glanced over your shoulder to watch as he pulled off his white tank top. Your glazed eyes fawned over each perfect muscle in his body, taking particular interest in the veins that popped in his arm when he flexed them as he ridded himself of his jeans. How you ended up with a man so incredibly hot, you had no idea, but you were thanking the Gods for that.

“I need to be inside you, too.” He rasped into your ear, groaning in ecstasy as he sank himself into your needy cunt. Your jaw fell open he filled you, inch by inch. He pulled your t-shirt over your head, instantly attaching his lips to your shoulder as he rutted his hips against your ass. 

His pace was grueling from the start, grip tight on your hips, sure to leave bruises in the morning. A little reminder of his intoxicating presence. You braced yourself on the armrest, sounds of pleasure leaving your lips almost instantly. He pressed his forehead against your cheek, the thick hairs on his chest leaving a tingling sensation across your back as he held you flush against his chest. Heavy breaths filled your ears as you so desperately reached to touch him, any of him. Your trembling fingers found the sound of his face and he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“This what you needed, hm? Maybe I should fuck sweet pussy more often? Give it more attention?” He grunted the words in your ears, lips pressed against your cheek as a sheen layer of sweat began to coat your soft skin. You whimpered and nodded weakly, your cunt clenching him with excitement. He smirked softly, his hand coming up to lace through your hair. “Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet girl?”

Logan held your face down as his hips drilled into you, each delicious drag of his cock bringing you closer and closer to your sweet release. God, you needed it. All you could do was moan in response.

“Y-yes! God, yes. Please Logan.” You whined out shamelessly, eyes rolled back into your head. Logan hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple, the gentle gesture ironic considering just what he was doing to you. He said nothing as he sneaked his free hand to the front of your body, rough fingers rubbing harsh circles on your sensitive clit. Your jaw fell open, your hand flying to grip his wrist. Your thighs clenched around his hand, whining as his cock  brushed that one spot that had you seeing white. “Logan—”

Your voice was a warning, but he welcomed it. He flicked his wrist without mercy as he rolled his hips, his words only encouraging you to fall apart for him.

“Come for me, pretty girl. You can do that, can’t you? I know you want to.” He let go of your hair to turn your head to meet his eager lips. He happily swallowed the pathetic sounds that left your mouth as he flicked at your clit, his cock hitting so impossibly deep you were left trembling as your release seeped around him. 

Logan held you down on his cock, his thumb playing with your clit until you were gasping and your nails dug into the skin of his wrist. He kissed along your jaw as his hips stilled for just a second, your body still shaking underneath him.

“You okay?” He asked softly, grabbing your face to look at him. You looked at him with hooded eyes and nodded weakly, barely lifting yourself off the couch.

“Yeah. ‘m okay.” 

Logan tilted his head at you, an eyebrow raised with amusement as he leaned down to leave a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling out his cock to manhandle you onto your back before he was sinking himself into you again. Your slick walls welcomed him perfectly, like this was the only place he belonged, but he wasn’t complaining. If he could die, he would die happily buried deep in your cunt.

“Oh, God, Logan.” You gasped, thighs twitching as you looked down to find where his thick cock is filling you, splitting you open over and over. Your jaw fell open as you watched him grab one of your ankles and he held it up by his shoulder, spreading you open for him to dig himself deeper and deeper within you tight walls. 

“Look at me, baby.” He groaned, chest heavy as a thin layer of sweat covered his muscled body. You did your best to comply, you looked up, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure as he damn near folded your body in half. Your knees were pressed against your chest as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, there she is. My pretty girl. I missed you.” 

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, and also at the sting of his cock rapidly bringing you to your third release. The way he brought your legs to his shoulders, he sunk himself so deep within your walls you swore you felt him in your stomach. It felt so good you wanted to cry.

“Missed you too, Logan.” You brought your lips up to his, eyebrows furrowed into an expression of pure arousal as you gripped his hair, clinging to him for dear life.

Your release was quick and sudden, hitting you without a warning the second Logan pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. You were just so sensitive, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed. You clutched on to his large bicep as you spilled around his cock. The way your tight walls squeeze him made him groan, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on chasing his own release while fucking you through your own.

“Look at you, you’re just so good for me. Fuck it, I’ll just take you with me next time.” Groans fell freely from his soft lips as he braced himself on the back of the couch with one hand, and the other held the armrest above your head. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours as your sweet praises and chants of his name filled his ears. 

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was animalistic, a deep growl as he coated your insides with his hot release. The metallic sound of sharp claws filled your ears once more as his claws unsheathed themselves from his knuckles, one on the back of the couch and the other just above your head, again. You gasped his name with a soft laugh, though you would be lying if you said it didn’t drive you feral when his claws accidentally came out. You brought a hand to his face as he pulled his claws out of your couch, the sharp metal once again hiding themselves within his knuckles with a sound. He held himself up on his forearm as his head fell to your neck.

“I’ll pay for it.” He muttered a chuckle into your neck, leaving a soft kiss to your jaw. You laughed, draping a hand over your forehead, breathing in deeply as you felt your mixed releases seep around his cock and drip onto the couch. He should just buy you a new couch, he thought.

“Wanna buy me a new body while you’re at it?” You teased him, already sensing you would have bruises and your thighs would ache for days.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern filled his voice as he lifted his head to scan your face for any discomfort as his hand came up to graze the thigh draped over his waist. You scrunched up your nose at him and shook your head.

“Of course not hun. Don’t be silly.” You traced your fingers over his face and gave him a lopsided smile.

“I did miss you, for the record.” 

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too Logan.”

“Lemme clean you up sugar.” He sneaked a kiss to your cheek as he untangled himself from you, much to your protest.

You whined at the emptiness he left you as he stood up. Though you did quite enjoy the sight of his perfect ass he walked off to find something to clean his mess with. When he came back, he had a small towel and he cleaned you without protest, he left warm kisses on your face as you talked to him about your day. He ultimately tossed the towel aside and slipped on his boxers, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his still hard cock, but you needed a break. You didn’t let him leave though, reaching to grab his wrist with soft eyes

“Wanna watch a movie? I miss watching movies with you.” You mumbled, voice soft as you looked at him with pleading eyes. He laughed softly at you, you made it sound like you hadn’t seen him in a month.

But, how could he ever say no to his sweet girl?

“Mhm, put on somethin’ .” He gently moved you so that he was lying behind you on the couch, his big arms wrapped around you as he held you against his chest. Though you were still completely naked, you paid no mind to it. It actually felt kinda nice to be so close to him and feel the warmth of his body in such an intimate way.

He covered you both with the throw blanket you always kept over the couch for days exactly like this, for those days you wanted to feel warm and close with him on the couch. He ignored the three holes where stuffing was coming out of the ripped fabric as he pulled the soft blanket up to your chest and as you happily settled in his arms, clicking away at the TV. He would buy you a new couch, just as he bought you new pillows, and new blankets. And anything you asked him to, really.

Logan wasn’t used to domestic, the soft touches, cuddling, but he liked doing it with you. He craved it actually, probably just as much as he craved the sex.

“Next time you’re away that long, just give me a call? Please? So that I’m not worried sick thinking you died.” You finally said, the whole reason for such intense feelings merely an hour ago finally surfacing. He laughed softly at how ridiculous you sounded. He technically can’t die, he thought.

“I wouldn’t.. I can’t…Y’know what? You’re right. I’m still getting used to this whole having a girl thing. But I'll do better, yeah? Don’t need you to be mad, sugar.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, settling his face on your neck as he attempted to pay attention to whatever horror movie you decided to watch today. “But if you’re gonna let me fuck you like that when you’re mad, get mad more often.” 

“Logan.” You scolded him, nudging his ribs softly as a warm blush coated your cheeks, knowing you wouldn’t hurt him, but it still made him chuckle. 

He had to admit, he lasted way longer than he did last time. He lasted almost halfway through the movie before the feeling of his cock sitting hot and heavy in his boxers became apparent to him again. He inhaled your scent softly, his lips ghosting over your neck as he rolled his hips softly against your ass. And while you did try to protest, whining that you wanted to get through one movie with him, the sting of his cock was better than any movie in this world. The credits rolled, the soundtrack now drowned out by the sound of your sweet moans. Logan would be damned if he let you leave the warmth of his body for even just one second tonight. Or maybe ever. 

[welovelouisandbucky]

You don't say it back

Summary: you prank your boyfriend by not saying "I love you" back, while he's getting late for quidditch practice.

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing (insert scandalised face) Few suggestive moments? Out of character stuff mayne? Seriously, none on this one, lol. Well, of course my writing, as usual. Not proof read.

S/n: positive criticism is appreciated as always. As well as any form of feedbacks, likes, comments or rebloggs. And be kind you guys, this is a safe place for everyone. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle (with Hufflepuff!reader)

It was stupid and ridiculous.

You were just curious of his reaction, that is all.

You heard your friends' talking about doing this to their boyfriends for shits and giggles. At first, you hated the idea of tormenting your significant other for fun, then curiosity consumed your mind for weeks.

Now it seemed like a fun idea to prank your boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle.

You thought it was a perfect way to get back at your boyfriend for teasing you last week in The Great Hall. In your mind it was the perfect revenge.

So you made up your mind to put it into action as soon as you had the chance. Which was now, at his dorm room while he was about to leave for Quidditch practice with Theo.

You were excited as well as anxious for his reaction. Anticipation has been eating away your brain for days now and you were finally going to do it.

Mattheo came up to you and kissed your forehead as you remained sitted on his bed, with your books all splattered around before you.

"gimme a kiss, will you?" He grinned down at you, ignoring annoyed and impatient Theo by the door, who was urging him to hurry up as they were already late.

Smiling, you complied to his wish and kissed him. Without meaning to, you deepen the kiss, clinging onto him as if he's your life support, suddenly not feeling ready to send him off just yet. He seems to think the same way as he holds onto you tighter, kissing you more intensely, cupping your face with his one hand as the other roams down. You almost moan into his mouth when you hear someone gag.

"oi! Stop snogging her and hurry up!" Theo called, tapping his foot impatiently. Matthew rolled his eyes and winked at you before stepping back.

"'ight, love. We'll finish this later, yeah?" Mattheo smirked when you blushed under his gaze. He loves how's you blush at his every word, one of the reasons why he teases you a lot.

"Love you!" He said as he was about to leave with Theo. You just smiled and waved at the both of them. Physically restraining yourself from saying it back, you almost did, but you are glad you didn't as he stopped abruptly.

He looks back at you, expectedly.

You all but smiled up at him innocently. Your eyes never once betraying the guilt you are feeling inside, you just now realised how bad of a timing this is to do this prank, when he's clearly beyond late for his practice. Though, it's too late to go back now.

He clears his throat.

"uh, love? Aren't ya forgetting something?" He asks, his one brow raised in accusing manner. Mattheo steps inside the room again, completely ignoring the loud groan of his best mate ( who looks ready to hit Mattheo with his broomstick any second now ).

You don't reply, just look in his way with furrowed brows, feigning false confusion, which you can tell Mattheo saw right through.

"don't think so, no," you say. You pretend to think over it for couple of minutes before shrugging your head no. Mattheo huffs and rolls his eyes at you. Almost annoyed with you, as you're purposefully making him even more late to his practice.

"c'mon now, princess. Don't play stupid with me," he says impatiently. Not wanting make his team wait any longer on his account, just wanting to get over with that thing as soon as possible so he can come back and spend time with you again. But he can't do that unless he leaves and he's not leaving until you say "I love you" back, but judging by the look on your face, he knows he's not leaving any time soon.

"oh yeaahhhh, sorry, baby!" You giggle. And he smiles, thinking you finally got what he was saying.

"I forgot to wish you luck! Well, good luck with your practice, and have fun!" You tell him affectionately, your voice sugary sweet. You waved him bye again and blowed him a kiss.

Mattheo's hopeful expression falls, so does your heart.

"Y/n," he says, there's an edge to his voice, as well as a slight hint of hurt. Your heart breaks a little inside, regretting your stupid prank now as you look at him. He's standing in middle of the room, in his quidditch robes with his broomstick clutched tightly, his puppy brown eyes looking alarmingly sad.

You know how hard it was for him to express his feelings openly, it is still a struggle for him to express his emotions sometimes, you help him best as you can. And you're really proud of him, for how far along he had come since when you first met him. You curse at yourself mentally, just realising how stupid of an idea this was to began with.

"oh Mattheo," you softly say and go over to him. Wrapping your arms around him and he instantly holds you closer to him, you kiss him tenderly all over his face. "I'm so, so sorry, baby. I thought—i well, doesn't matter now. It was stupid anyways, I'm sorry. I love you." You say against his skin, feeling him tightening his hold, nudging his face deeper into your hair. You heard him sigh of relief, and relax into him.

"sorry, Mattheo. Please forgive me?" You ask, pulling back just a little to look at his face. He gives you one of his smiles which tells you're forgiven, you almost melt into a puddle at that.

"don't. ever. do that again, yeah?" He mumbles before kissing you. He doesn't have to tell you that anyway, since you're never attempting something like this ever again.

He leaves ghostly kisses against your skin, traveling from your lips to sensitive skin under your ear. His hand sliding down to your back, as you lock your arms around his neck.

"don't think you can get away with this so easily, love. We'll see about that forgiveness once I'm back from practice." He whispers darkly, and with one firm pat to your bum, he begins to leave once Theo clears his throat. Making his presence known, which you seemed to forget about completely.

"love you," he smirks your way before leaving with Theo, who looks as if he wants to dig himself into hole and never comeback, ever again.

You try to reply, but no words come out. Suddenly breathless.

You watch him leave with newfound excitement and anticipation burning through your body.

Maybe you're not forgiven afterall.

(divider credits to the rightful owner @rypnami 🙏🏼)

A/n: annnnnnddddd I'm back!!!!! So sorry for disappearing again😭 I have some ideas that I'm currently working on, so hopefully I'll be able to post more content soon!! Yay!

And don't forget to comment or reblog.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Have a nice day!!!

Requests are open.

[bwabys-scenarios]

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO PERV ILLUMI i do not think there is enough perv illumi content on this app

He’s a perv

Perv!Illumi x Fem!Reader

A/N: sorry this is short and may resemble my other perv writings… but I hope y’all like it! Join my server

warnings: pervy Illumi, yandere behavior, masturbation, panty stealing, he’s kind of yucky, breeding, pregnancy

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Illumi had never experienced sexual attraction before. Had he gotten some morning wood once or twice? Yes, but he rarely felt the urge to jack off.

That was… until he met you.

He wasn’t quite sure what made you so appealing. You looked ordinary, at least… you should have. Illumi had been surrounded by the worlds most beautiful women since he was but a boy… yet here he was, getting hard over a girl he had barely met.

Maybe it was your soft curves, or the ways your hips swayed when you walked… it could have even been your sweet voice, and those pretty, glossy lips that made him want to pull you in and taste the shiny lipgloss you were wearing…

Whatever it was, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Illumi’s body had been acting strangely. Even a whiff of your perfume could have his cock twitching, standing at attention and ready for you… it was quite embarrassing, or it would have been if Illumi had any shame.

No, the only reason Illumi his his overwhelming desire for you was because he wanted these feelings to go away as quickly as possible. He couldn’t fall for some nobody Hunter with nen weaker than all the other applicants that had passed with you. No, Illumi was supposed to marry the best of the best, a woman whose womb could bear a strong heir.

But… that didn’t stop him from acting on some of his urges…

Unfortunately, Illumi couldn’t seem to let you out of his sight. It was annoying, following you around as you did your little daily chores in town. He could hardly get any work done when you looked so cute. You didn’t even realize your panties were showing when you bent over to pick up a coin…

When he couldn’t be constantly watching over you, Illumi would steal little trinkets from your home to… keep him satiated. Used panties, your lipgloss, and clothing items that smelled like your perfume.

He’d wrap your panties around his cock as he jerked off, your cardigan pressed against his face. If he really focused, he could imagine your pussy tightening around him, your plump thighs pressing against him as he bounced you on his cock…

He’d cum buckets into your panties, then break into your apartment and drop them off on your floor, like a cat leaving a dead mouse as a gift.

After a while, his urges grew and grew, until your panties just weren’t enough for him anymore.

Wooing you wasn’t too hard, and getting into your pants was easier than he would have though. The fact you were a virgin was very surprising… but welcomed. After all, he was a virgin as well.

The second his cock sunk into you, he immediately knew that he could never let you go. To hell with a strong heir, he wanted you, and only you. You were the only one that could make him feel this way… soft, vulnerable, and so goddamn horny.

Poor, poor you, having Illumi fuck into you for hours on end, unable to pull out of your pretty, warm cunt. He fucked so much cum into you that you felt so swollen and full…

Even after he was done, he didn’t pull out. Instead, he held you close, kissing the top of your head. “You’re all mine, darling. I’ll have wedding preparations ready within a week.”

You were much too exhausted to argue… and you weren’t sure you could say no to Illumi Zoldyck… so you just slept, accepting your fate. You’d be taken care of, and would never have to worry about anything ever again.

Shortly, Illumi would have his now pregnant wife in his home, where she would be safe, and where he could ravish her whenever he felt like it.

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject III pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: angst and comfort. fluff. mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth and DUI. wc: 2.7k part 3 and the last part of touchy subject! click here for part 1, click here for part 2 i really liked writing for them and honestly i'm considering occasionally writing blurbs for them and what their relationship would shape into, lmk if you'd be interested!!

seeing you in front of that store felt like it might've killed rafe. the first face he fell in love with, the woman who'd left him with nothing but scars and an engagement ring. somehow, he still managed to stay alive.

but hearing you say his name in the soft voice he hadn't heard in over four years, the same one that you used to tell him you loved him every single night before your body went slack in his arms, that might have been the final blow.

"what are you doing here?" you managed to mutter, your hand instinctively going to your locket, squeezing it in your hand, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed by rafe.

"what's this?" rafe asked as the two of you laid in bed, his finger tracing the patterns on the heart-shaped locket resting on your chest, the one you'd worn around your neck for as long as he'd known you.

"this?" you asked, opening the locket, displaying two pictures; one of them was of you when you were a little girl, standing between your parents with a wide, toothy grin on your face, and the other was a picture of you and rafe, taken at midsummers. "i got this from my mom. it's a family heirloom of sorts. when she's born," you looked down at your stomach, "we've gotta get a picture taken of us three so i can put it here."

he let out a small chuckle, "i'm honored that you want me in your heart."

"i think you're always going to be in my heart," you rolled your eyes, "whether i want it or not."

"i'm here to see you. i thought that'd be obvious." rafe said without an ounce of emotion in his voice, the sound causing a shiver to run down your spine. grieving your daughter on what would've been her fifth birthday wasn't a moment you exactly wanted your ex to witness, but this was still rafe. the man you loved for so long, the only man you ever loved, the one you were going to marry, and this was still the house that was supposed to be your home.

so you stepped aside, pulling your cardigan closed as a way to close yourself off from the man as you walked further into the house, not daring yourself to look back at him, fearing the urge that still remained in your chest to just pull him close to you and be in his arms.

you heard the door close, pressing your eyes shut as you stood in front of the fireplace, your arms crossed in front of your chest as if defending yourself, the man's footsteps echoing in the room, "it's cold in here."

"the radiator's broken."

"can you just, at least look at me, or something?"

"do i have to?" you chuckled humorlessly, and when you felt his hand on your shoulder, it felt like the room got ten degrees colder, the man slowly turning you around to face him, and when you refused to look up at him, focusing on the baby blue sweater he was wearing, he brought his hand to your chin, gently lifting it up, just like he did every time he was about to kiss you.

"we need to talk."

if someone was to ask you what would be the most uncomfortable situation you had ever been in, this would be among the top 3, right after you got the 'birds and the bees' talk and the time you said your goodbyes to the same man now sitting beside you, the space between you two big enough to fit another person.

"why did you come back?" rafe asks, without even sparing you a glance. you decide to do the same, your gaze staying on the fire crackling in front of you.

"i don't know. a part of me thinks it's because i missed home."

"and the other part?"

missed us. missed her. "missed my mom, i guess."

your mother had driven you home from the hospital, insisting that she'd stay with you for the next few days; you still hadn't seen rafe. you couldn't face him, couldn't face the guilt you carried around for being the reason your daughter would be coming home in an urn.

she'd gone to the store for groceries, leaving you to sit on the couch you and rafe had picked out, staring at the engagement picture that hung above the fireplace.

you didn't know how it started, how every single vase ended up as nothing but shards of glass on the floor, how the coffee table had ended up as planks of wood, how your fists were bruised from beating them against the walls, your knees bloody from when you'd collapsed on the ground amongst all the glass.

"do you know what day it is?" rafe asked with a weak voice, and you could hear him try to swallow down the emotion crawling up his throat.

his question made you want to let out a small, humorless laugh. you don't know how you could ever forget. "of course." the day i killed her.

rafe stood up, running his hand over his chin before trailing over the short strands of hair on his head, "why did you do it?" he looked to you. "why did you leave?"

"i had no reason to stay." you say emotionlessly, your fingers intertwined as you kept your eyes on them as if you were praying.

"you had me. you would've had me if you just let me be there."

"rafe, i killed our daughter."

"what-"

"i'm the reason our daughter isn't here. i'm the reason she doesn't exist. i'm the reason that today isn't only her fifth birthday, but also the fifth anniversary of her death."

rafe kneeled down in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, not caring if it made you uncomfortable, or that this was the first time he'd properly touched you in over four years, the only thing that mattered to him was that you listened.

"you did not kill our daughter."

"i did."

"no." he scoffed, "you aren't the reason she's dead. the reason is the drunken asshole who drove at you. you loved her with your entire being, with everything you had, even before she was born. you would've been the most amazing mother in the world. don't you dare blame yourself for something you had zero control over."

"i shouldn't have driven in that weather. i knew it was gonna be raining, that the roads would be slippery-"

"no." rafe said sternly, "look at me."

your eyes moved to look into rafe's steel-blue ones, shimmering with unshed tears, his jaw clenched, and only then did you realize that he was cupping your face in his hands, his touch somehow managing to make you feel warm even in the cold apartment.

"i won't have you blame yourself for something you had no fuckin' control over. evelyn was so wanted, by both of us. she would've been so loved. we would've done anything to protect her, and to keep her safe. if any fucker even thought about hurting her, i would've made sure they'd regret ever being born. but you are not to blame for her not being here."

rafe's hands moved from your cheeks to your hands, the man instead taking your clenched fists into his, letting out a small sniffle, and when he pressed his eyes closed and let out a sigh, a tear rolled down his cheek.

"yeah, you could've not driven in the rain. but i should've been the one to drive you to your mom's, you were eight months along, an insane man would make you drive yourself, or i should've made sure you got home before it was dark, or i should've picked you up myself. there are so many things we could've done differently, but that doesn't mean that either of us is to blame for it."

"i spent so long blaming myself for what happened, but not even for a moment did i blame you. you did everything to keep her safe, and i know it, and i'm sure that she knows it too. you loved her more than anything, and i won't let some drunk driving idiot make you feel like you did anything wrong."

slowly, you opened your fists, half-moon prints on the palms on your hands caused by your nails, and without even realizing, tears had been rolling down your eyes the entire time that rafe had been speaking, the man standing up and pressing a kiss on your forehead that felt like it burnt and would leave a mark that'd be there forever, before he settled down next to you.

a strand of hair was stuck on your cheek, almost glued on there by the tears you shed, the blonde man tugging it behind your ear, his eyes still on you, his hands still cupping yours.

"i don't blame you for what happened, nor do i blame you for pushing me away. but i wish you would've let me in, to be there for you, instead of leaving. so we could've grieved her together."

"i think we should break up, rafe."

"what?" rafe turned to look at you; this wasn't what he had been expecting to hear after two months of silence, "if this is about the baby-"

"i can't do it anymore." you closed your eyes, letting a tear run down your cheek, "i need to leave. start over."

you turned your head to look at him, his words feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and even though you tried to find it, there was nothing in his eyes that said that he was lying.

"you don't blame me for any of it?"

your voice was weak and feeble, as if a part of you was expecting him to tell you that he did, but when he pulled you into his embrace, he told you the truth in the best way he knew how to: without saying a single word.

you didn't know how long you had been in rafe's arms; it felt like hours, while also feeling like the moment had lasted mere seconds, like you two lived in your own bubble. it felt like the last four years hadn't happened, like you had never left.

but when he pulled away from the embrace and looked down at his watch, letting out a sigh, you knew what was coming. the bubble burst.

"i should probably get going." rafe let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before starting to get up off the couch, stretching his long limbs.

"yeah, yeah." you said softly, clearing your throat, trying to act like nothing had happened, like you hadn't gone through every memory you shared while he was just holding you to comfort you, "your girlfriend's probably waiting for you."

rafe stopped in his tracks, turning to look down at you, "girlfriend?"

"shit," you chuckle softly, fidgeting with your hands and chewing on your lower lip, "i guess she's your fiancée, now."

he sat down on the couch next to you while you simply avoided his gaze, not wanting him to read everything you were feeling like he so often seemed to do, but your attempt was unsuccessful, the man bringing his hand to your chin and gently turning your head so you were forced to look at him, his brows slightly furrowed while he looked at you pointedly.

"what girlfriend, or fiancée?"

you didn't know if rafe was acting stupid, or if he was genuinely confused, but you could still remember the woman with him at the jewelry store, the woman who had managed to make him smile, whose back rafe placed his hand on.

"you know," you clear your throat, taking his hand off your chin and turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see the tears brimming in your eyes as you thought about him waiting at the aisle for another woman, "the woman at the jewelry store."

rafe let out a soft laugh, and when you turned your head, facing him, he was nearly keeling over in laughter, his head in his hands.

"what?"

"that-" rafe said inbetween laughs, "that wasn't my girlfriend."

"what?" you mumbled softly, your brows furrowing, "what do you mean, rafe?"

"sorry-" he continued laughing for a while only to be stopped by a soft smack you delivered to his shoulder, before the man took a deep breath, looking at you with a small smile gracing his lips, a sight that still got your heart to flutter, "that wasn't my girlfriend, or my fiancée."

"then... who was she?"

"that was," rafe let out another chuckle as if you had said something foolish, taking one of your hands in his and intertwining your fingers, "wheezie's girlfriend."

you tried processing the words that had left his lips, but no matter what, they didn't seem to make since. "why were you in a jewelry store together? wheezie's only like-"

"wheezie's nineteen." rafe shook his head, "her girlfriend, lucy, asked me to help her pick out a ring. sarah was supposed to go with her, but she had some preschool stuff to deal with relating to jack, so i got stuck with that duty…"

"isn't nineteen a bit... young?"

"it is. but you remember how young we were when we got engaged? or sarah?" a fond smile took over rafe's lips as he turned to look at the fire that was slowly burning out, letting the next words out in a hushed tone. "guess it runs in the family."

"guess so." you say, biting down on your lip, turning to look at the fire with him, your cheeks warm as you felt like an idiot for your assumption.

"i still haven't moved on." rafe said, letting out a breath, "i don't know if i can. i don't think i even want to." you turned to look back at one another at the same time, both of you seeing the same melancholy in the other one's eyes, "there's no one i would ever want to be with other than you."

you took a deep breath, his words ringing through your head as you looked at him, a damp trail running down his cheek was still visible from the tears he had shed, and you took a deep breath, making a decision that you knew would impact the rest of your life.

"me neither, rafe."

you brought your hand to his cheek and felt the tear he had shed under your touch, pulling his face to meet yours until your lips clashed, feeling the exact same that it did four years ago, making you wonder how you ever let it go.

SIX MONTHS LATER...

you laid on a blanket in the middle of a field of sunflowers, your arms crossed behind your head and your eyes pressed closed, letting the sun beam down your face, warming you up as your bare feet were being tickled by blades of grass.

your daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and you opened one of your eyes to see rafe stumble through the long flowers into the small clearing you'd found, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

"don't laugh at me." he scolded, shaking his head as he landed on the blanket next to you, letting out a soft grunt.

"why not?" you asked, sticking your tongue out at him, your boyfriend gasping in feigned offence, about to quip back at you, only to be stopped by the small, chaste peck you pressed on his lips, even the small display of affection managing to leave him speechless.

as he settled down next to you, you smiled while looking up at the sky, white clouds covering a part of the beautiful icy blue nothingness that was so much like rafe's eyes, your thoughts on her. you took rafe's hand in yours, keeping your eyes trained up while you let yourselves just exist together.

"you're always going to be in my heart, evelyn louise cameron." you said softly as you traced the patterns on your locket, rafe turning his head to look at you, a somber expression on his face as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"yeah, she will. and neither of us will ever forget her."

[elliewithcellie]

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

My beloved @aorryn47 and I met on a dating site. They were one of my top personality matches. Unbeknownst to me Richard helped them game the system to get really high matches. We chatted for a bit and somehow ended up talking about laundry. I admitted that I smell test my shirts and could go a really long time between washes because I didn’t really sweat. This was a bad thing actually, and I sweat now, don’t worry.

They then abruptly stopped talking to me. I was like. :( oh. I’m a gross lil guy, I didn’t think it was that weird but maybe I should wash my clothes more even if they don’t smell. I continued on with my dating escapades.

Then about a week and a half later they were like, “Hey, I hate talking on here, do you just want to meet up?”

I agreed to coffee but somehow assumed that meant breakfast. This would lead to a contentious years long debate that I lost about my assumption that coffee meant breakfast. My beloved generously ordered soup so I wasn’t eating alone. I showed up half an hour early because it was a new location and I get anxious about being late.

I waited in my car, reading a bit to pass the time. After a while I stepped out to head inside. The car that had been parked next to me pretty much the whole time I’d be waiting also opened, and there was my beloved. Equally early.

I felt like that was a pretty good sign.

I generally just chatter when I meet people and they liked not having to fill the silence. I talked about finding blood on showroom mattresses and they told me about being an acupuncture student.

By the time I had to leave to meet an exterminator at my place I knew I’d like to spend more time with them. So I invited them over for board games while we waited for someone to come deal with my ant problem. They agreed.

When they got to my place I wanted them to meet my cat. Leeloo is an oddball and one thing that consistently makes her like visitors is if they sit on the bed. So I ushered my beloved to the bedroom and urged them to sit on the bed so Leeloo would come up and be friendly.

I would learn later that this was viewed as a potential way to put the moves on them which flabbergasted me. I just wanted my cat to say hi, which she did. But when I write the words I asked someone on a first date to sit on my bed to meet my cat I do hear how it sounds.

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter one ♡

Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, your best friend. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.

Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.

Word count: 9.4K

A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!

If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.

You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.

"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.

She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."

"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.

She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."

And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.

He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”

“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”

He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”

You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”

“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”

Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”

“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”

“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”

A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."

You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”

He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.

“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.

You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.

You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.

“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”

It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.

Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.

Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.

You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.

“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.

She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.

“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.

Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”

She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”

“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.

When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.

“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.

He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.

“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.

His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.

That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.

It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”

Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.

One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.

“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.

You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.

"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.

“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.

“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”

Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.

“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”

Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.

In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.

Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”

You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.

“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.

“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"

You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.

“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.

Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.

“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”

*

Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.

“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”

He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.

“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”

The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.

You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.

After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.

Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.

“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.

Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.

He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.

Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.

Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.

Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.

He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.

“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”

“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.

You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.

“How much did you pay for this?”

“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”

“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”

You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.

“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”

“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.

“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”

Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.

“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.

Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.

“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.

Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.

When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”

“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”

But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.

Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?

You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.

You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”

Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”

Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.

You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.

“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”

“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”

He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.

“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.

You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“So, what did you do last night?”

He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”

You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.

Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.

Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 

It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.

“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”

He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.

After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”

The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.

“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”

Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”

“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.

“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”

Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.

“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”

You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.

After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.

“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.

“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”

He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”

And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.

“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”

He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”

“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.

“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.

His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”

Jealous. He thought you were jealous.

He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.

But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.

Honestly, he could go fuck himself.

Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.

“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.

You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.

“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.

He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”

“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”

He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”

Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”

Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.

Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.

You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”

“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”

“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.

Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.

“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”

“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”

He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”

“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”

Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.

His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”

“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.

He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”

“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.

The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.

“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”

Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.

But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.

Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”

His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.

“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.

But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”

You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.

His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.

“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.

The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.

But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.

With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.

He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.

Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.

Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.

You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 

No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.

You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 

His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.

In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.

You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.

“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.

“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.

His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.

His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.

His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.

He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.

Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.

“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.

He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.

He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.

“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.

His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”

You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.

From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.

Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.

You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.

His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.

With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.

Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.

Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 

There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.

With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.

“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."

You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.

The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.

His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 

You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 

“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.

A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.

Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 

A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.

You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.

And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?

“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”

You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.

His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.

Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.

He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.

He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...

No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.

When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.

Joel was gone.

taglist: @orcasoul

[ahqkas]

Hey! Can you please write headcanons for Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim where they get jealous when reader ignores them for some other guy? (They haven't confessed to her yet because of their issues) The reader is also very oblivious to their feelings and doesn't understand why they are acting weird around her male friend. Thanks 😘

♯BABY COME HOME 2 ME . . . he’s jealous !! (fem!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce had perfected the skill of keeping his emotions under wraps, but when he saw you chatting animatedly with clark kent of all the people, his jaw tightened, and his usual stoic demeanor grew even colder. he didn’t say anything outright, but his silence became louder, his responses clipped and curt

he spent an unreasonable amount of time analyzing every interaction you had with the superman. he didn’t want to be jealous, but he couldn’t help dissecting your body language, the tone of your laughter, and how often you glanced in clark’s direction. the world’s greatest detective is undone by a simple smile exchanged between you and the man of steel

so he started subtly trying to one-up clark whenever you were around. If clark complimented your choice of book, bruce casually mentioned that he had donated an entire library to that author’s hometown. if clark suggested grabbing coffee, bruce offered to fly you to paris for the best croissant you’ve ever had (competitive much)

he became strangely territorial, appearing wherever you and clark happened to be. need help with research? bruce suddenly has all the resources at his disposal. want to attend a charity event? bruce personally invites you as his guest. his subtle possessiveness confused you, but he waved it off with a dismissive, “i was in the area.”

despite being oblivious, clark catches on pretty quickly. he teases bruce about his attitude, whispering, “you know, she’s just being friendly,” during a team meeting. bruce’s only response is an icy glare, but inside, he’s frustrated that even clark can see what he won’t admit

bruce started making dry, sarcastic remarks when clark’s name came up in conversation. when you mentioned how nice clark is, bruce grumbled, “nice? sure. but can he solve an international financial crisis in a single night?” you think he’s joking, but that man is 100% serious.

DICK GRAYSON

dick prides himself on being the laid-back, easygoing friend, but when he sees you laughing at one of wally’s cheesy jokes, something tightens in his chest. his usual smile falters for a fraction of a second before he forces it back into place. you don’t notice, but wally does, smirking knowingly

he starts teasing wally in a way that’s just a bit sharper than usual. “wow, wally, that story gets funnier every time you tell it,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. you laugh along, oblivious, but wally raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying dick’s discomfort

he becomes oddly competitive, especially when wally’s abilities are involved. if wally races ahead to grab you something, dick will casually say, “sure, he’s fast, but can he do this?” before doing some ridiculously impressive flip that leaves you clapping. he’ll shrug it off like it’s nothing, but he’s secretly watching to see if you’re impressed

dick starts overthinking every little interaction. did you laugh harder at wally’s joke than at his? does wally text you more often? he gets caught up in his own insecurities, wondering if maybe wally is a better fit for you—someone fun and carefree, without the baggage he carries

wally, ever the troublemaker, starts leaning into the situation. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder or wink at dick while you’re not looking, just to see how far he can push him. dick plays it off with a tight smile, but his fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to yank wally’s hand away from you

at some point, wally corners dick with a smug grin, saying, “so, when are you going to tell her?” dick tries to deny it, but wally isn’t fooled. “come on, grayson. she’s oblivious, not blind. well, actually, she is blind to you, but that’s your fault.” dick groans, knowing wally won’t let it go, ever

later when you two actually get together, wally makes sure to get in the last word, casually saying, “took you long enough, grayson. you’re lucky i’m such a good wingman.” dick rolls his eyes, but for once, he doesn’t argue

JASON TODD

jason is naturally broody, but when he sees you laughing at one of roy’s jokes or leaning closer to hear him better, his usual scowl deepens. his arms cross tighter, his jaw clenches, and his responses become more gruff and sarcastic. you think he’s just annoyed in general, but roy knows better

he doesn’t want to feel jealous of roy—roy’s his best friend, after all—but he can’t help it. he knows his friend is charming and easygoing, and it eats at him that you seem to enjoy roy’s company more than his. he hates himself for the bitterness, but he hates how much he cares even more

he starts pulling away, telling himself it’s better to let you be happy than to deal with these feelings. he’ll find excuses to leave the room when you and roy are hanging out, claiming he has “important red hood business” or muttering, “you two don’t need me hanging around.” his absence feels colder than his usual aloofness :((

jason tries to compete with roy’s charm in his own way. he’ll offer to help you with things before roy gets the chance—fixing something in your apartment, teaching you how to defend yourself, or lending you his jacket when it’s cold. his gestures are quieter but filled with meaning, though you only see them as jason being his usual protective self

roy catches on to jason’s jealousy almost immediately and starts poking the bear. he’ll intentionally sit a little closer to you or tell stories that paint himself as the hero. jason’s glare darkens every time, and roy smirks like he’s won some unspoken game

his friend eventually pulls him aside, half-teasing, half-serious. “you’re going to scare her off if you keep growling like that, jaybird,” he says with a grin. jason denies it, grumbling, “she doesn’t feel that way about me, so what does it matter?” roy shakes his head, muttering, “you’re hopeless,” but decides to give you two some space

“took you long enough. it was written all over jaybird’s face.”

TIM DRAKE

tim isn’t the type to show his jealousy outwardly, so at first, he tries to brush it off. he tells himself he’s being irrational, but every time he sees you smiling at conner or laughing at one of his jokes, it’s like a knife twisting in his chest. he sits there, silently sipping his coffee, pretending it doesn’t bother him

instead of confronting his feelings, tim buries himself in work. whenever you and conner are together, tim conveniently has “important research” or “a mission to plan.” he thinks distancing himself will help, but in reality, he’s just overthinking the situation in the safety of the batcave monitors

tim’s usual polite demeanor starts to crack, and he can’t help throwing in a few passive-aggressive comments. if vonner makes a lighthearted joke about being a hero, tim mutters under his breath, “yeah, because we didn’t already know how amazing you are, conner.” you laugh, thinking tim’s just being witty, while conner gives him a confused side-eye

when you and conner are deep in conversation, tim randomly interjects with obscure facts or strategic insights to redirect your focus. “did you know the alignment of the stars tonight is perfect for an alien incursion? just saying.” you smile and ask him to elaborate, giving him a brief moment of relief that he has your attention again

conner, being tim’s best friend, catches on pretty quickly. he notices the way tim’s eyes linger on you a little too long or how his voice drops when you mention conner’s name. instead of teasing him outright, conner starts backing off slightly, giving tim room to shine

you start noticing tim’s strange behavior—his avoidance, his sudden snarky remarks about conner—and ask him what’s wrong. he insists it’s “nothing,” but the crack in his voice gives him away. still, he’s too guarded to admit what’s really bothering him

later after tim’s confession, conner gives him a playful nudge and a knowing grin. “see? told you she’d feel the same way. maybe now you’ll stop staring at her like a lost puppy.” tim groans, muttering something about how conner’s the real puppy, but he’s secretly relieved—and grateful—that his best friend had his back

after your heart-to-heart, tim’s confidence starts to grow. he’s still awkward at times, but he’s more willing to share how he feels, even if it’s in small, thoughtful gestures. and when conner teases him about finally making a move, tim just smirks, knowing he’s the one who has your heart

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