#I will say obviously they won’t both be able to make it out and I don’t see a possible escape for helly.

[weirdero]

Something something about how Severances repeatedly highlights the theme of corporate women having no authority over themselves and this is powerfully shown throughout the series by their clothing. At this company these women at their absolute best and highest capabilities are nothing more than performative test dolls dressed in cute little outfits.

Their bodily autonomy is pushed to its absolute limits, a constant assault. In Helly’s case that fuck ass camping trip I will never get over and her outies video message all the way back in season one. Both reduced her to nothing but a tool. A cheap trick, a vessel for someone else’s choices. In Helena’s head Helly at her brightest, at her absolute best, and most useful, is just a tool.

In Gemma’s case. oh my god. Oh my god. Her innies are subjected to a suffering so sick and twisted that the only measure of endurance is how long they can comply and submit.

They are pushing this woman to her fucking limit trying to like break this woman down. and I mean she has broken down before. This woman has attempted to break someone’s bones, and we get to see her hit a man straight on the head with a chair. I can just imagine how awful those first months were. She’s probably spent days crying, screaming, biting, fighting for her life just to then wake up the next day, presented with a new little outfit. Her spirit can’t break it won’t because her love for Mark won’t allow her that. But she’s definitely has gotten close. Doesn’t matter anyways since Lumon won’t allow her that either. Has to finish what was started even though she doesn’t understand what she’s a part of she has to stay

Just like in the dentist’s office when she has to open her mouth. There are no breaks.

Or like when she writes Christmas letters, she has to finish them all with her left hand, even though she’s clearly right handed. It doesn’t matter how long it takes her to finish them anyways since every day is Christmas anyways.

She has to get on that plane. She has to go to a workout class (or some other athletic activity I’m assuming rn). She has to wake up every morning and put on her outfit of the day, the only thing giving her a small hint of what kind of day she’ll have. She has to wear those clothes.

Helly has to wear Helena’s fucking clothes.

Not like any of it matters anyways this pain they are subjected to this torture isn’t meant for them it has nothing to do with them. It’s all for kier.

It’s exploitative, it’s controlling, it’s assault, it’s evil, and it’s real. Helly and her emotions are real. Gemma and her innies are real. Abuse of power and exploitation (especially towards women) in the workplace is real.

Anyways. LOVE THIS SHOW! AND LOVE HELLY AND GEMMA. Stop pitting women against each otherrr FREEDOM FOR BOTH MY GIRLS!!!!. Also this TikTok is what inspired this rant I saw it and was like OHHHH SHIT.

[arcticmermaidao3]

I need to talk about something that I haven’t been able to get out of my head lately. In the Wicked movie, when Galinda puts the flower in Elphaba’s hair and calls her beautiful, the underscoring is For Good. But in the stage show, the underscoring for that same moment is I’m Not That Girl.

They’re both beautiful choices but…so different. And I’m fascinated that they chose to change it for the movie.*

Using For Good clearly focuses the moment on the bond between the girls. (At least, it does for folks who know the show already and know the song/the significance of it.) They also featured For Good during the Ozdust duet in the movie, making that melody a constant throughout their friendship. Beginning to end, it symbolizes their connection, so of course it would play in that moment. Fairly straightforward.

But using I’m Not That Girl highlights Elphaba’s emotional turmoil in that moment. The push and pull she feels between believing Galinda’s statement that she’s beautiful, and staying safe in her long held acceptance that she is not and never will be That Girl. You can interpret it as her not feeling like That Girl in general, or, if you’ve been Gelphiepilled (raises hand), as her not feeling like she is That Girl for Galinda. Because they are literally playing a song of romantic yearning in the moment Galinda tells Elphaba she’s beautiful for the first time.

I’m just fascinated by this. It is such a pivotal moment in their relationship and in Elphaba’s life as a whole, and I think the underscoring can really color how you view what’s happening.

*I should acknowledge a practical reason for the difference: in the stage show, because music is being played live and the scene won’t last the exact same amount of time every night, the underscoring is a vamp that is repeated right up until Elphaba says, “I have to go.” In the movie, obviously they could time out exactly where each note falls and leave pauses in the dialogue to highlight the music. Different medium, different storytelling.

[devilsskettle]

whenever i hear a song that i would like if it weren’t for the fact that it was too long, i think about this:

like you can afford to write tangentially if you/your music is already popular and you know that people are going to listen to you no matter what and in fact laud your longer pieces as being genius etc but can you really be releasing 5+ minute long songs without a built-in audience?

[lovelivision]

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Getting double penetrated by Gojo and Geto, taking them both at the same time. Laying on top of Gojo, head pressed to his chest, unable to help the way you’re drooling onto his skin. Geto behind you, cock sat deep inside your snug cunt, alongside Gojo’s.

Pussy overstuffed and making an obscene mess, not able to move, trying to adjust to the stretch of having both of them inside you. Gojo stroking your back and cooing at you, “Too much for you, sweetie?”

Shaking your head quickly against him, panting out, “No– hah– I’m good.”

Geto lets out an amused huff and leans down to you, murmuring low in your ear, “You always take it so well don’t you?”

His voice sends shivers down your spine, biting your lip to supress the moan you almost let out at his movements and words.

Both of them groan at your reaction, Gojo breathlessly asking, “You feel that, Suguru?”

“Mhm,” Geto cruelly blows on your ear, “You like when I talk to you?”

Your hips jerk, fucking yourself on the both of them, “Please.”

Gojo laughs but it comes out wrecked, “Sounds like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Can’t have that can we?” Geto directs at Gojo.

To which he only smiles back big and evil, “No, we can’t.”

They both begin moving at once, apparently knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Your cunt making lewd slick sounds as they both thrust in and out of you. Feeling so full it’s driving you up a wall, nails digging into Gojo’s chest under you. Breaths coming fast as you struggle to think, incoherent whines being the only thing that leaves you.

Your pussy sucking them both back in, twitching and squirming between the two of them. Using your hips to fuck yourself back onto the both of them as much as you can manage.

Geto pulls himself up, hands gripping your ass cheeks to pull them apart, choking back a moan at the sight of it all. Ruined when he says, “So messy, creaming all over us.”

“Wish I could see– hnn– next time we’re swapping – hah – positions, Suguru.” Gojo rambles out, obviously feeling jealous at being deprived of the whole view, “How does it feel, hmm?” Gojo asks you, wanting you to tell him how good it feels.

Your response is moaned, “Feels so– oh! I feel full.” Tears brimmed on your lash line.

“I fuckin bet,” he chuckles out. “Look here, look at me, pretty,” Gojo’s directing your attention to him.

It takes everything in you to look at him, he whines when you do, the look on your face making his hips jerk and stutter, pace ruined for a moment. You’re all teary eyed and mouth agape, choking on moans that don’t stop, it drives Gojo wild.

“Ohh that’s cute,” A hand reaches up and he wipes the spit from the corner of your mouth.

Geto grunts at the pace change, “You good, Satoru?”

“Oh yeah, just admiring the view,” he smirks at you.

The hum Geto lets out is low and thoughtful, his hands pulling at your ass again, “As much as I love this view, I wanna see how you cry for it, pretty.” Geto’s tone is bright, enjoying the thought of you falling apart for them. His eyes flick to Gojo’s, “Think we might have to swap positions next time after all.”

Then they’re sharing a cheeky smile with each other before drilling into you again, quicker, doubling their efforts to make you insane. The whimpers they’re pulling out of you just won’t stop, and Gojo’s holding such intense eye contact it’s making you feel bashful. Leaning into him, you plant your lips on his in a messy kiss.

Your tongue in his mouth before he can think, a loud moan caught in his chest at how insistently you kiss him. From behind, Geto clicks his tongue, hand reaching for your neck to pull you back and off Gojo’s mouth.

“Can’t have Satoru keeping all your pretty moans to himself,” he squeezes your neck lightly as a warning.

“Mm sorry,” you murmur out.

Gojo bites his lip and smiles at you, “I’m not.”

Geto gives a particularly harsh thrust, one that makes you cry out a moan and your head spin all at once.

The both of them at once just might kill you…

[uhohdad]

(18+) König x Reader - Catching Him Getting Off

It takes you far too long to process both your mistake and the sight before you.

Even though you’re stumbling and your vision is blurry, you knew something was up. This was not the room you had left when you went to the bathroom to relieve a bladder so full it threatened to burst. The room you had just left was packed with your teammates, pungent with the smell of alcohol, and flooded with songs you don’t recognize.

This room was almost silent, smelled of musk, and held only one occupant.

Your colonel.

Shirtless.

His impressive, intimidating form sprawled out on a bed he makes look comically small, muscles tight and glistening with sweat. His massive arm bulging to pump what is no doubt the largest cock you have ever seen, at full attention and freed from his sweatpants.

König’s eyes flit to you, so obviously not where you’re supposed to be. While his brow quirks and the pace of his pumps slow, he doesn’t rush to cover himself up or even stop what he’s doing.

When your brain finally catches up, you scramble, shouting desperate apologies and tripping over yourself to leave and slam his door shut behind you.

You do not return to your team. You dart straight to your room, seal yourself away, and pace for the better part of an hour.

You manage to get away with your avoidance for a few days. Hardly lifting your head from the floor and darting away anytime he neared. The burn of his stare is hard to ignore, though. Searing and white hot. But there’s no way you’ll be able to make eye contact with him ever again. Not when you know what his thick cock looks like when glistened with precum and being pleasured by his fist. Not when you’ve already gotten off to the thought of helping him out with his needs by letting him rut into you instead of his hand.

Always blunt and never bashful, he waits until your guard is down before he corners you. He plants his giant hand just in front of your lunch and leans down until you have no choice but to acknowledge him. It’s hard to look at his arm and not picture the muscles you know reside underneath his uniform.

“You don’t have to be so shy around me.”

“Colonel, I am so sorry. I thought I was- Please, can we just forget that even happened? I won’t tell anyone, I- I haven’t-”

“Es ist okay,” He says, soft and reassuring.

It’s so jarring from his usual assertive and even vitriolic way of speaking. You don’t have the sense to hide the furrow of your brow.

His eyes crinkle, and he gives a low hum with a tilt of his head. It’s hard to resist squirming with those intense, piercing eyes boring into you.

“Did you like what you saw?”

“What?” You ask through a nervous laugh.

You heard him, oh you heard him, but you have to hear it again to be sure.

“Did you like what you saw?”

His repetition doesn’t waver. The words roll off his tongue far too casually for such a forward question.

You don’t have an answer for him. You’re paralyzed under his stare, by his brazen words, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke you don’t understand. Your mouth parts in anticipation to answer his question but fail to form the words. He doesn’t wait for you to scrounge up a response before he throws another impossible question at you.

“Do you want to see it again?”

You suck in a sharp breath and finally look away. After a beat, you give a shameful but eager nod.

Suddenly you’re back in his quarters, on your knees before his monstrous, impossible form. Stripped of your clothes while he stands covered head to toe except for the cock freed from his waistband. He studies you carefully, your head craned back and pitiful eyes trained on him. Your mouth is open, tongue stuck out, obediently waiting for the finish he’s working toward. His hands are just a blur, pumping himself to the sight of the tiny little thing kneeling between his boots.

“Sehr gut,” He breathes, “So patient for me.”

He slows to run the head of his cock along your slick tongue.

“You want to get off too, süßes kleines ding?”

While your cheeks are burning and you feel more than degraded, the growing stain of arousal in your panties tells a different story.

“So hübsch.”

König reaches down to cup your jaw and guides you to look at him while his foot nudges its way between your thighs.

“Grind on my boot.”

You whine, keeping your mouth open and ready like the obedient little soldier you are, and lower yourself onto his boot. Cheeks flushed with heat as you wrap your arms around his leg and grind your soaked panties along the leather. Relieving the needy ache between your legs and chasing that warm jolt of pleasure with each brush over your clit.

“Ich werde dieses hübsche Gesicht ruinieren.”

Your eyes instinctively pinch shut when you feel the warm droplets of his finish splatter on your cheek. He lets out a choppy moan as he paints your face and outstretched tongue in his sticky mess, making sure to milk every last drop on his waiting canvas.

“Look at me,” He grits.

He takes a moment to admire his work, tilting your head side to side with a gentle but firm hand on your jaw. He hums content before letting go, tucking himself back into his boxers and buttoning up his pants.

“Swallow,” He orders.

You finally close your mouth as you take down what he managed to get on your tongue, intrusive and salty.

He gives a gentle wiggle of his boot and squints at you, surely wearing a smug grin beneath that hood.

“You can clean your face after you finish yourself off, liebling.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[elysianightsss]

AAAHHHHH! HI! So sorry to bother you, but I read the neurodivergent reader x 141 and AHHHHH I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING, DROOLING, CHEWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE they wont let me out

i have a little idea… how would poly 141 react when they find out your job isnt this cute barista or something along those lines, but just a regular stocking associate or a cashier for some huge corporation. like, they know you work. and every time you leave, they see you die a little on the inside from having to go to *insert shitty job*. They just didnt know that you were working there and now they are trying whatever they can to convince you to quote your job and stay home… i know i would rather stay home and take care of them than going to my job…

Oh anon I love your brain! As someone who used to be a cashier before I got my fucking wonderful, literally no joke amazing office job, I fuck with this. I’m writing them as roommates tho don’t know why just deal with it😘

It starts off with a debate over what time you get up in the mornings given how tired you seemed today. But then they realise, they don’t even know what you do for work. Johnny predicts that you’re one of those cute baristas in sweet little aprons with how good the flavoured coffees you make him in the morning when he’s back from his run, are.

Kyle can’t seem to fathom you’re not the office sweetheart he seems to picture you as. Though you’d been living with them for almost over a year now, the guys were gone before you left for work and back long after you arrived home. Still he had it in his head the whole time that you were putting on tight pencil skirts and heels in the morning before going off to work. Something he argues tooth and nail with Johnny about.

John scoffs hearing the guys argue, usually keeping out of it, but this time he can’t help himself when he interjects with, “Yer both chattin shit. She’s obviously a baker with those mouth watering pastries she makes us.” Now that opens up the argument further.

Simon is the only one who doesn’t speculate, instead he walks right up to you on a Sunday night as the guys are all readying themselves for bed and you’re making your lunch for tomorrow. “Luv.” He calls, you glance at him, eyes honing in on the way his grey sweatpants hang low on his hips. Dangerous, dangerous man.

Looking back to the fruit you were slicing, you hum in acknowledgment, “Wot’s ya job?”

You bite back the grin that fights to split your face in two, turning to him you see he visibly softens at your little smile, “I’m a cashier.” You answer, ears tinging red a little. In all honesty you were embarrassed that you worked for one of those big corporations. The dreams you had once but were never able to reach are like a damp on your heart. Like a festering mould that only grows in the worst conditions.

Sometimes you enjoy the people, there are some nice ones that overcome the bad interactions. But everyday you pull on the trousers and trainers, and that itchy uniform top, you wish that a snowstorm would lock you inside the house. You pray to receive a call telling you not to come in due to a fire that started in the bakery. Your heart aches to be told you’re allowed to go home early even if you won’t be paid as much at the end of the month.

Simon hadn’t said much after you told him, his eyes darkened a little when he asked if you enjoyed it and you had answered swiftly and without hesitation; no.

Then suddenly, the guys are leaving for work a little later in the morning. The same time as you. John offering you a lift to work, Johnny making you coffee instead of the other way around, Kyle giving you one of his soft jackets so at least your arms will be comfortable even if your torso is covered in that itchy material.

Simon is the one who places his hand on your forehead and tuts beneath his black surgical mask. You scoff when Simon says he doesn’t think you should go in today, “I feel fine.” You counter with a frown, pushing his big paw away and shoving your feet into the uncomfortable trainers.

John stares down at them like they’ve offended him personally, “You own comfier shoes lass.” Johnny comments and Kyle nods in agreement.

“I have to wear them.” You say quietly wondering why they suddenly have such an interest in your work attire. Have to. Well, that just wasn’t acceptable. The guys didn’t think you should have to do anything.

The weekends were a little weird too. You would usually cook them meals and sweet pastries or cakes with how hard they worked, they deserved nothing less. But Johnny is ushering you away from the kitchen when you walk past the dining table and the marble counter island to make him a coffee.

John says no thank you in the most strained way you’ve ever heard it when you offer to make him a sweet treat. He deflates even further into the sofa when you look offended at his decline. Kyle pulls you close to him on the other side of the couch, putting an arm around you, he continues reading his book but it’s out loud this time.

You sigh snuggling close to him, head on his shoulder when Simon brings over one of the many plushies you’d left on the floor of the lounge, again, and one of the many soft blankets you’d unnecessarily bought for the house. Maybe you could get used to this, you thought as your eyes started to blink slower. It had been a really long week, with lots of assholes. A week of sitting in that uncomfortable chair had done a number on your back too.

You’re just lucky that you’d said from the very beginning that you won’t work weekends, at least you could have those to yourself. The guys became even more attentive, not that they weren’t before, but it increased tenfold. And you wondered why.

Why Kyle is packing you a lunch box everyday now. Why Johnny is cuddling up to you at night just so you sleep warmer, better. Why John is willing to race away from very important paperwork to sit outside the big supermarket you worked at just so you didn’t have to take the bus home. Why Simon keeps buying you lush smelling soaps, bath salts and those sparkly bathbombs he knows you love, you have so many now you don’t know what to do with them. Even when you ask him to stop, he shakes his head and grunts out, “Baths are good for sore muscles.” And that’s all you get.

You just want to know why, what brought all of this on. And most of all why it all suddenly stops.

Almost like a calculated mission, like a big discussion had happened before hand. All of it stopped. They had left long before you got up for work, no lunch ready to go, no soft jacket waiting by the door, no cuddle reading sessions on the weekend, no more new bath stuff, no more lifts and an expectant look in John’s eyes when it gets to dinner time.

They’d done a total three sixty. Like they wanted to show you how good it could be with their help, how much easier life could be, going to work could be, only just to take it all away.

That’s exactly what their plan had been, Simon’s idea mostly with little suggestions made by the rest of them. They all executed it thoroughly, now all that’s left for them is to compete the final step.

“Doll I think you should quit your job.” John goes first, you frown excessively. What the hell is he talking about, you think.

“Have you gone mad?” You huff. John knows you’re annoyed with them, hell they all know you’re angry by their actions. But it’s a necessary evil.

“Not yet I don’t think,” John jokes and feels a little lighter when the corner of your lip quirks up slightly, “I am serious.” He says simply, his blue eyes burning into you before he walks away. You think it so odd, strange that he says that out of the blue.

And then Kyle says it too. Coming into your room with the same baby Yoda squishmallow Simon had placed in your lap two weeks ago, and the same blanket. He gestures towards your bed, it’s subtle but you nod. Failing to hide his grin, Kyle gets snuggled up under the blanket with you, your arms wrapped around the plushie.

He’s halfway through the book, hand brushing through your hair scratching at your scalp deliciously when he broaches the subject, “Bun?” You scrunch up your nose, blinking your eyes open to look at him accusingly. The sight makes him chuckle softly, you’re screaming with your eyes, how dare you make me open my eyes and be fully conscious.

He leans forward before he can stop himself and rubs his nose against yours sweetly, something he tells himself later was just to butter you up before talking. It wasn’t.

“I don’t think you should go to work anymore.” He says simply, with ease, his voice calm.

“What?” You blink rapidly waking yourself up fully to actually take in what he just said.

“Just something to think about bunny.” He shrugs and goes back to reading with that damn lulling voice. You don’t stop him, don’t interrupt but your mind is swirling the same way it had the day before when John had said something similar.

Johnny is not so tactful, shovelling his breakfast in his mouth. Half masticated bacon and scrambled eggs rolling around in his wide open trap, when he spits out the words. “Quit yer job lass, no one wants to be stackin shelves and scannin someone else’s shit all day.” He scoffs washing his food down with the caramel flavoured coffee you made him five minutes ago. He’s quick to put the plate in the sink and place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His head bend slightly, eyes level with you, “Think about it pet.” He pats your cheek lightly and earns a much more harsh smack to the back of his head by Kyle on the way out of the house.

And finally Simon…well Simon…um Simon just did what he thought was best, what he thought was necessary, what he thought would get you to comply the quickest…

You pant harshly, fingers gripping onto the light bronde hair painfully hard, yanking with each stripe Simon licked up your cunt. You barely noticed John walking passed your open bedroom door with a smirk, Simon had his face buried so deep in your pussy it was hard to think, hard to conjure up your own name let alone open your eyes and catch Kyle and Johnny pushing your door open a little wider and watching for a moment before Kyle drags Johnny away.

Simon’s broken too many times to fix, crooked nose brushed against your clit wonderfully, tongue fucking into your quivering hole making you buck your hips desperate for the release he’d been denying you for around twenty minutes now.

“Say it.” Simon cooed, encouraging you gently. Shaking your head, teeth biting down on your lip, holding on as tightly to your words as you held onto Simon.

Simon grips your jaw in his big paw, a sharp look comes across his features as though he’s about to scold you when you meet his gaze, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, rough circles to keep the stimulation enough, to keep you there on the edge so he has you right where he wants you.

“Say it and you can cum.” He promises, your eyes widen, stinging harshly with their own promise of tears should you keep this up.

“b-but-“

“No buts. We’ll take of everything sweetheart, oll ya afta to do is write the resignation letter, then stay here as our pretty little housewife.” He kissed your clit before moving his thumb back in its place, circling slower this time. You gasp, a broken sob wrenching itself from your chest as your orgasm starts to slip away with the lack of stimulation.

“Please! Please Si! I-“

“Oll ya afta do is say it. Quit, find yourself a cute hobby, cook and clean for us a little. Oll ya afta do is say yes and I’ll let ya cum luv.” He grins evilly when you whine, blowing on your cunt before licking a hard long stripe from your puckered asshole to your swollen, throbbing clit.

“yes! please yes I’ll quit just pl-“

Simon doesn’t let you finish your plea, devouring your pussy like a man starved. He licks, sucks, and flicks your clit, slipping his thick fingers inside your clenching, empty hole thrusting them in and out doing his best to match the pace he set with his tongue on your clit.

You cum hard, untamed. Back arching uncomfortably, limbs shaking rigorously and Simon slurps up everything you give him. You lay there trying to catch your breath when Simon crawls up your body to hover over you. His eyes meet yours when he grins, “Good girl. Now why don’t we get started on that resignation letter hmm.” It wasn’t a question.

Safe to say you happily quit your job.

[sister-lucifer]

hcs 4 toby giving bj 4 first time :3

Toby’s First Time Giving/Receiving a Blowjob Headcanons 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

A/N: I know you probably meant Toby giving a blowjob for the first time but I wrote both because i can. enjoy the double feature

Genre: Smut headcanons 

Content/Warnings: Oral sex (obviously), Toby likes praise, face fucking, Toby gets a bit rough in his excitement but he doesn’t mean it, he’s just a feral, excitable horndog, scenarios for both AFAB and AMAB readers are included, use of dick, cock and cunt to describe genitalia

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Giving 

Oooohhh boy okay, listen 

He’s not exactly experienced 

Most of the people he went to high school with were incredibly put off by him and the like two who weren’t never went past making out 

He has no idea what he’s doing, you’ll have to teach him 

The good news? He’s very eager to learn 

If you have a dick he’ll try to deepthroat it IMMEDIATELY, regardless of the fact that he’ll choke like a fucking idiot, and you’ll have to practically yank him off of you 

If you have a cunt he’ll do the same thing except latching on way too fast and way too rough in a clumsy but genuine effort to pleasure you

Just hold tightly to his hair to keep him from ducking back down and gently instruct him to start slow 

You’ll have to be very detailed with your instructions, and he has no shame, so expect a lot of really specific questions 

“Should I-I keep flicking your clit with my tongue like th-that?” 

“Do you like w-when I circle your tip l-like that?” 

Etc, etc

And he’ll say it with 100% sincerity, because he really does want you to enjoy this

It takes him a minute to get the hang of it, but once he gets his rhythm he won’t stop until you’re begging him to 

It’s fun for him to watch you squirm and moan, it brings him just as much pleasure as it does you 

You can encourage him to keep going by scratching his head, running your fingers through his hair, and giving a little tug when he does something you particularly enjoy

Speaking of which, he responds very well to verbal feedback (re: praise) 

You can see his eyes light up when you call him a good boy or tell him he’s doing well 

And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get him praise

Basically, he’s easy to train

Just keep telling him how well he’s doing, and be clear about what you enjoy 

He’s more than happy to comply 

Plus, it’s kinda hot to watch the drool and cum leak from the gash in his cheek as he eagerly laps up everything he can get from you

Receiving 

Well your first challenge will be getting him to sit still

He’s a hyperactive bastard and his excitement will manifest as restlessness 

It’s best to have him lying on his back to reduce the risk of possible injury, but he will still shake his legs and fidget with his sleeves as he watches you position yourself between his legs

He’ll try not to touch you at first because he’s not really sure what’s acceptable or not, instead opting to fumble with his fingers and gnaw on his knuckles 

He’ll be breathing heavily and mumbling to himself the whole time, before you’ve even gotten his cock out 

“I-I can’t believe you’re doing this for-for me…Y-You’re so nice to m-me…I-I don’t—fuck!—I don’t k-know what I’d do with-without you…”

And he’ll go on and on like that until you’ve sucked him so good he can’t talk 

He’ll forget his manners the closer he gets to cumming

He’ll get more and more needy and he’ll start to grab at your hair 

Unless you stop him, he’ll get rougher and rougher until he’s practically fucking your mouth, pulling and pushing your head back and forth by your hair and thrusting into your mouth 

He’ll have drool running down his chin and he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut, just completely desperate and messy

The best part is the way he’ll shamelessly beg to cum down your throat 

“Pleeeaaase, please, please, fuck—! I-It’s all I want, just let me—let me cum in your m-mouth, I need it! I-I’ve been a g-good boy, haven’t I?!”

If you don’t say yes he’ll literally cry 

But if you do, the absolute euphoria that’ll cross his face is more than worth it 

He’ll force you down on his cock as he releases down your throat, his back arching in an almost violent manner as he forces you to take everything he has to give

And he won’t let go until he’s completely done 

When you’re finally released from his death grip it’ll be because he’s gone limp, completely spent and barely conscious 

Give him a quick kiss before you go to clean up, he’ll lick your lips clean for you 

He’ll be riding that high for hours 

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Hey I’m sorry to bother, but can you do a Tony x teen reader? Platonic or familial obviously, but like where the reader isn’t smart academically and she’s constantly doing bad on tests and Tony comforting her? It’s fine if not thank you for your time either way :)

Academic validation

Summary: Tests aren’t the only thing that determine children’s intelligence.

Pairing: Tony Stark x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader

Warnings: I have no understanding of American education system

Word count: 870

a/n: I need that academic validation

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

The huge encircled D on Y/N’s physics exam is the only thing on her mind as she walks towards the Avenger’s tower.

There’s a permanent frown on her face. She really studied for this test, she even got Tony to quiz her, but clearly that didn’t help. He’s going to be so disappointed in her.

Y/N walks into the tower, giving the security guard in the lobby a small wave before going into the elevator. She holds onto her backpack’s straps tightly as she waits for the elevator to stop on the common floor. She hopes Tony won’t be in there.

The elevator doors opens and Y/N gets out of it. Her steps are slow and quiet, she doesn’t want to announce her arrival to anyone. A shaky sigh leaves her mouth when she hears people talking in the common room.

She tries to walk past everyone, quickly but quietly, but it’s not very easy to sneak past Avengers. “Hey, kid!” Sam exclaims, waving her over to the small group hanging out on the couches.

Y/N lets out a breath, putting on a smile as she makes her way over to them. “Hi, guys.” Her eyes move over everyone. No Tony, that makes her relax just a bit. “What are you doing?”

Natasha’s arm is is laying on the couch’s back rest, her fingers gently rubbing Wanda’s shoulder, as she gives Y/N a cheeky look. “Wanda got offended when Sam said Fuller House is better than Full House, so she is making us watch Full House.”

Wanda pushes Natasha’s side, glaring at her before turning to Y/N. “No one in their right mind thinks a sequel of an iconic show is better than the show itself.” At the end of the sentence, she glares at Sam too, who raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay.” Y/N giggles with a shake of her head. At times she thinks of herself more mature than the adults.

“Want to join us, honey?”

“Uh,” she bites her lip, “no, I can’t sorry.” She has decided to beg her teacher for a retake of the test to get a more respectable grade to show Tony.

“Okay, but don’t think you’re getting away from watching Full House with me.” Wanda grins.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Y/N waves at the trio and makes her way to her room.

In her room, she takes out the physics exam and looks it through over and over again, until she has fully memorized which parts she did wrong. It takes two hours. Two hours, which Y/N didn’t notice going by.

A knock on her door makes her jump. Her wide eyes glance at the clock, grumbling when she notices it’s over dinner time.

“It’s open!”

Tony walks inside the room, a small grin on his face and a plate of food on his hand. “I know everyone says we’re too alike, but please don’t take up on my habit of missing meals.” He sets the plate down on her desk. “It’s a bad habit, kiddo.”

“I won’t.” Y/N lets out an airy laugh, setting the test paper on the desk and pulling the plate in front of her.

“That your physics test?” Tony grabs the sheet of paper before Y/N is able to hide it.

“No!”

“What?” Tony glances at her with a frown. His eyes skim over both sides of the paper.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, her gaze going straight to the floor as she feels disappointment seeping into her body. “I did badly.” She mumbles, waiting for Tony’s criticism.

“So?” Tony sets the test back down. “Do you know how bad I did in school? I’m still absolutely brilliant.” He sits on her bed.

“Yeah.. but you’re great at physics, and math, and all that important stuff.”

“Sure.” Tony nods. “But this is only one test,” he taps the paper, “and you’re so great at so many things. You get As on history and English, you have a great eye for design, you have impeccable people skills, even though you hate most of them.” He laughs. “One physics exam doesn’t mean shit.”

Y/N looks at Tony, a small frown on her face. “But I want to be like you.”

“Kiddo, no one is going to be like me, not should they try to be like me.” Tony pats Y/N’s knee. “Is physics your passion?”

“I don’t know what my passion is.”

“Well, when you find your passion, I will be the one to hire you to work in a job that you love. Because no child living under my roof will work a day in their life in a job they despise. Yes, I will always encourage you to do your best at tests, but I’ll be proud of you no matter how well or bad you do in them.”

Sniffling, Y/N lunges to hug Tony. He embraces her right back, holding onto her tightly as long as she needs to be held, because even though he doesn’t love physical touch, he refuses to be the first one to pull away when a kid he considers his needs comfort.

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[yelenasbraid]

the one I run to — joe burrow

summary — you’re out with your friends when you start to notice someone’s been watching you.

warnings — fem!reader, protective!joe, creepy guy, some suggestive comments, fluff, language, names used for friends’ names ( so sorry if i use yours! )

requested by — anon <3

YOU LOVED COOLER WEATHER. the soft breeze through your hair, the big sweaters and the hats. it brought back memories of college, of friends and the sweet times you had. those same college friends came up to see you, and you couldn’t be more excited.

“you literally haven’t aged,” one of your friends, cassandra, laughed as you sat down at a table. the restaurant you chose was a cute spot, warm lights dangled from the ceiling while the smell of wood filled your nostrils. it was one of your favorite places around town.

“cass, it’s been four years,” you defended, scooting in your chair.

“still, i feel like the stress of being a WAG would get the grey hairs going,” cass joked, earning an eye roll from you.

“i think i see some already,” your other friend, courtney, commented, going to point out said grey hairs. you smacked her hand away.

“you both are bullies. did you come up to ohio just to bully me?” you asked jokingly, making both girls laugh. both girls were your roommates at one point, and after that the three of you became fast friends. you did everything together in college, so graduating, knowing you were parting ways, made it ten times harder.

flashback

you embraced the two of them, tears stinging your eyes. you didn’t care about your makeup at this point; the three of you were going to be parting ways for who knows how long.

“you better text me,” courtney wiped her eyes as she playfully shoved you, “especially with you dating the golden boy,”

“oh hush,” you laughed, wrapping her in another hug. leaving would be the hardest thing for you. those girls showed you good people existed, that you were worthy of friendship. they were apart of you, and now it felt like time was ripping them away.

“we’ve gotta have like an annual catch up or something,” cass sniffled, pulling away from the embrace.

“you won’t be able to get rid of us,” you reassured.

end of flashback

you felt whole again with them there. this wasn’t to say that you weren’t friends with some of the WAGs on the bengals or that joe wasn’t enough. he was, and you were friends with some of the WAGs. you and jess, sam’s fiancée, were particularly close. it was just different with friends you’ve known for a lot longer.

you ordered your drinks and then your food choices.

“so, give me the tea,” courtney spoke, sipping on her wine.

“what tea is there?” you asked her. while you and joe kept your lives pretty private, everyone knew you were together. everyone knew that joe was absolutely smitten with you.

“oh come on, you’re dating joe burrow. there’s obviously some tea. and where’s that ring?”

“he hasn’t proposed yet,”

“imma beat that boy’s ass,” cass muttered, causing you to choke on your drink. you had no idea what was in joe’s mind, but you’ve had the marriage talk. you’ve talked about getting married and that you were meant to get married. he just hasn’t put a ring on it, yet.

catching up with them was always special. cass told you about her husband and her 3 year old at home. courtney told you about her business and the cute guy who works next to her. you shared struggles, the things that caused you to stumble. you had the opportunity to lift each other up, to fill each other’s cups in the time that you had.

after you’ve had your fill, three drinks in with a full belly, the three of you figured it was time to leave. you didn’t want to hold up the restaurant any longer, even if you guys didn’t want to leave.

“don’t freak out,” courtney started, which consequently unsettled your stomach.

“what?”

“there’s a guy who’s been staring at you for the past 5 minutes,” she whispered to you, concern furrowing her brow. you were used to people staring at you, especially since you were dating joe. people wanted to ask you questions, and they weren’t always of innocent intent.

you turn and meet eyes with the guy, who’s sitting by himself, a drink in front of him. he makes no move to break eye contact with you, but he does wink at you. it unsettled you, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. you didn’t like his expression or what he was insinuating.

“he’s probably just a fan. he shouldn’t follow us out,” you told them. you were comforting yourself, but your gut told you a different story. it told you that this guy had other intentions and he wasn’t going to leave you alone.

you pack up your things, pay the bill, and fill your mouth with the last of your drink before walking out. you flicked your eyes back over to the man again, who had moved closer to you. he was still staring at you, his eyes flicking over your body. he was checking you out, and it made you very uncomfortable. you shivered, walking out of the restaurant. before you left for dinner, you liked your outfit. it was cute, it was comfortable, and you felt confident in it. now, you tugged at the sleeves of your shirt, worried about any exposed skin.

the three of you gather in front of a window into the restaurant, a warm glow cast on your faces. you still felt eyes on you, the prickling sensation on the back of your neck confirming such. this was different, you knew that. you also knew that you parked in a different area than your friends did. that fact alone tightened your chest and labored your breathing.

you’d be fine. you could handle yourself.

“you ok?” courtney asked you, snapping you out of your trance.

“yeah, yeah. he’s just really freaking me out,” you admitted to them. courtney looked in the window, catching the guy who was staring at you. she made a face at him, breaking the eye contact he had with her. you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

“needed a little embarrassment,” she shrugged. you hoped she was right. even though you were in a happy relationship, it didn’t stop other guys from hitting on you. it didn’t stop other guys from ogling, from making sleazy comments. it didn’t stop them from denying reality, wanting you to be theirs. you hoped that this guy in particular just needed to be told to shove off.

the three of you started walking down the street. the sun was setting, golden hues lighting your way. you guys stayed together, laughing and giggling as you went. your eyes caught movement, and you turned your head to see the man from earlier walking on the sidewalk across from you. it had to be a coincidence. you didn’t say anything, chalking it up to be paranoia. you were with friends. joe was a phone call away. you’d be ok.

you take out your phone and unlock it, hovering a finger over joe’s contact. you decided against calling him, at least for now. you didn’t need to bother him with this right now. you reached their parking lot, and you looked back, seeing no sign of him. you let out a breath of air.

“it was so good seeing you,” you chirped, feeling in a much better mood. you hugged each of them before they departed to their cars. the deck you parked in was right across the street.

“you good to walk there by yourself?” courtney called from her car. you contemplated taking her up on her implied offer, but you shook your head.

“i’m ok, thanks. i’ll call joe while i walk over,” you reassured her. she smiled, getting into her car, and driving off. you were met with silence again. you watched your friends leave, and as your eyes followed their cars, you saw him again. your heart caught in your throat, your breath hitching.

this is how crime documentaries started.

you pulled out your phone again, not hesitating to call joe. your breath picked up, watching the guy down the street from you. he was leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette. based off of the lighting of the fire hitting his face, he was white. he was wearing dark clothes and had dark hair. you kept those physical descriptions in your mind, just in case.

“baby?” you heard joe’s voice on the other side of the phone, grounding you.

“hey! i’m walking over to the parking deck and wanted to call you,” you explained, maybe a little too brightly. you started towards the crosswalk, which would make the walk to the parking deck a tad longer. you stole a look at the guy, and he’d put out his cigarette and started after you.

“are you ok?” he asked you. joe knew that you sounded off; something was up.

“um,” you started, glancing back as you crossed the street, seeing the mystery guy pick up the pace, “i need you,” your voice shook with the realization you were being followed. ruffles were heard on the other side of the phone, which meant silence.

“joe?”

“i’m on the way, just keep walking to the parking deck, i’ll be there in 15 minutes,” he informed you. he slipped on some shoes, grabbed his keys, and walked into the garage. he didn’t have to ask, you didn’t have to explain. he heard the shakiness of your voice, and that alone threw him into overdrive. no one messed with his woman, no one got away with scaring her.

he got into the car, opening the garage, and pulled out. all while on the phone with you.

“wait 15 minutes? isn’t the restaurant like 30 from the house?” you asked, walking into the parking deck. at least it was lit, but it didn’t ease the sickly feeling in your stomach. you turned back, watching as the guy just entered the parking deck. he wasn’t making it subtle.

“30 minutes, 15 minutes, whatever. if i get pulled i’ll sweet talk the cops out of a ticket,” he informed as he gassed down the street. his hand wrung against the steering wheel, his mind running a million miles an hour. he might even make it in 10 minutes.

“oh well that’s comforting,” you told him as you disappeared up the stairs. you skipped steps, reaching level 4. it was then you heard the door open and close. you bolted through the level 4 door, panting, your heart in your throat.

“joe, please hurry,” you’re begging, your mind coming up with escape routes and hiding places. that car is big enough to hide you. there’s a pillar over there that could keep you. there’s another stairwell on the other end.

“i’m coming baby, just hang tight for me, ok?” he hated hearing you sound so scared, he hated all of it. his anger boiled, his jaw working as he turned onto the highway. why did men think it’s fun to scare women? why did they think it was ok, that it meant they were interested? why did they get off on their fear?

“just stay on the phone with me, please?” you asked him, trying to eye your car. of course you forgot where you parked. you heard the door squeak, and your nerves lit up with adrenaline.

“i promise, babe. i’m here,” he assured you. you swallowed and parked yourself next to a random car, taking out your fob as if to unlock it. you wouldn’t let this man know what you drove.

“he’s on the same level as me,” you breathed shakily, trying and failing to keep your composure. you’ve only read of this sort of thing happening, you never thought it would happen to you. you tried to think logically, which would calm down your nerves only for a little bit.

“i’m almost there,” he told you. he pulled onto the same street as the restaurant, and he wondered why someone would even dare scare you. the area was well-lit, populated. there were people out and about, and yet this guy didn’t seem to care. it just enraged him even more.

you saw the guy round a corner, and you didn’t have anywhere to go. you stiffened, your back rigid as this man approached you. you could see more of his face, and you made sure to sear it into your mind. you could hear your heart beat in your ears, blood rushing through your body. your hands shook, and not because there was a chill in the air.

“can i help you?” you dared speak, trying to sound confident, to sound like you could knock him out if you wanted to.

“you left your wallet,” he replied. on the phone, joe listened, pulling into the parking deck. you were engaging in conversation with this man, and he just hoped that this guy didn’t want to do anything else.

“oh, thanks,” you took the wallet from him, your heart pounding. your eyes flicked to the ramp, watching as joe’s sleek porsche came into view. you almost cried with relief. joe parked in the aisleway, opening and shutting the door. he’d hung up the phone the second he pulled onto the level, preparing for whatever it was he was going to see.

“is there a problem?” joe’s voice is tight, his eyes are hard as he eyes this man down. he walked up to him, a certain strut to his stride. he looked taller, bigger, but maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you.

“i was just giving the lady her wallet back, man,” her follower defended.

“then why the hell are you still here?” joe snapped, stepping between you and the guy.

“she seemed afraid, wanted to make sure she was ok,” he replied, sounding smart. joe didn’t like his attitude, but he also knew a slug to the face wasn’t going to fix anything.

“she’s fine, so get out,” he snapped, his voice raising. joe was a good 4 inches taller than this other man, and it made you feel safer. joe squared his shoulders, the tension in his body building as he towered over the other man. you shrunk behind joe, praying for this moment to end. you took careful breaths, trying to control your surging anxiety.

“what the hell is your problem, man?” he snapped, and joe couldn’t hold himself together much longer.

“my problem?” joe hissed, inching towards the other man, “my problem is that you followed her here. my problem is that you’re just now saying something about a wallet,” joe was seething, his fists clenching and unclenching. he wasn’t going to say he scared you, he didn’t want him thinking he won in any way. no one should be proud of scaring someone or wanting to scare someone, unless it was joe in that moment.

“well maybe if she wasn’t running i would have been able to give it to her,” he argued. joe needed to breathe, to take a step back, but this guy was trying to justify his following you. it continued to boil his blood, to churn his stomach.

joe shoved this guy back, hard enough to give you some space, but not enough to knock him down.

“get the fuck out of this parking deck, i don’t want to see you again,” joe’s voice was gravelly as he stared this guy down. he watched as the man stalked off and left the parking deck. joe’s breaths were the only thing heard in the silence. he turned towards you, his expression immediately softening.

“you alright?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in close to his chest. you melted into his embrace, the safety of it. the tears finally fell, the adrenaline that once coursed through your veins slowing its pace. you held onto joe, but you wanted to get out of there.

“i’m ok now that you’re here,” you pulled away. he nodded, wiping your tears from your eyes. the pads of his thumbs felt cool on the heat of your skin, calming down the nerves in your body.

“good, let’s go home,” he hummed, kissing the top of your head. he walked you to your car, helping you in. you felt safe in your car; it allowed to finally breathe and release the tension in your chest. tears flowed down your cheeks you pulled out, following joe all the way home.

—

once you were home, enveloped in the warmth and smell of comfort, you changed into comfortable clothes. you were still shaken up, your body shaking from the adrenaline crash. you walked out of the bathroom, joining joe on the bed. he immediately wrapped you in his arms, giving you a gentle squeeze. he didn’t know what he’d do if he got there too late, if he got there and something despicable had happened. he’d lose his mind, that was for sure.

he just couldn’t get the sound of your voice out of his head. the sound of fear.

“feel better?” he hummed against your hair, pulling himself out of his own head. you nodded against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. his fingers ran up down your spine, spreading warmth throughout your body. you were safe. no one was going to hurt you.

“i’m still shaky, but i’m much better,” you admitted. he could feel your hands, the slight tremor to them as you laid against his chest.

“good,” he replied, running his hands up and down your back, “i’m always a call away,”

“i know,” you said, words muffled against his chest. silence rode by, safety once again seeping back into your bones. he was the one you ran to, the one you’d always call if you needed help. he’d always answer that call, too. your mind drifted with the returning feeling of safety, joe’s actions returning to the forefront of your mind. his tone, his body. you chuckled at the thought, curling further into him.

“what?” he asked, watching as you looked up at him.

“seeing you get all protective has me feeling some type of way,” you laughed, making joe roll his eyes. he kissed the crown of your head, a smile on his lips.

“i think it’s about time little miss got some sleep,” he smiled, reaching over and turning out the light. your laugh broke the darkness, bringing its own kind of light. he was thankful you were feeling ok enough to make suggestive jokes. hearing you laugh was one of the most healing things in his life.

“sweet dreams, my love,” he hummed, feeling you drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.

went overboard but i hope this is ok anon! please enjoy!! as always, i’m so thankful for your support and your love! you guys are amazing <3

tags: @wickedfun9

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?�� he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

Paring: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: The only person who could ruin a vacation in Italy was your stepmother, but what if she made it unexpectedly better?

A/N: Okay, so this was inspired by the second season of White Lotus and the title is in italian because I thought the english word was too crude.

I hope this isn’t too OOC, let me know!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warnings: Face slapping, non-consensual spanking, dubious consent, unwanted arousal, degradation kink, face sitting.

I hope I didn’t leave anything behind, but if I did let me know.

Word count: 3.1k

Date: Nov 05, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist | Taglist

Tag list: @jmkjournalblog @thecavalrywife @yourbasicqueerie @polaris-likethestar @riosslut @maevaofendora @yippie-kai-gay @w1theredroz3

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙���⋅•⋅ ───────

The sun shines through the blowing white curtains and into the bedroom. The last few days in Sicily were cloudy, and as pleasant as they had been, you’ve been longing for a day at the beach. The weather today was perfect for spending time in a bikini and staying at the hotel, not visiting any tourist spots or museums.

Italy is breathtaking. College was wearing you out, so spending a few weeks away from the student mentality is doing you good, it also helps that your father is paying for everything, even if it doesn’t erase the complicated relationship you two had.

Waking up early is mandatory in every vacation and today was especially easy. As soon as you had taken a peek at the open window of your room, you got out of bed. The constant tiredness you felt from your routine had vanished a few days into the city, and you were excited to make the most of it.

Skin glistening with sunscreen, you head downstairs for breakfast. The buffet was set up on a covered balcony with the chairs outside, where you could enjoy the view of the italian architecture as you ate. Grabbing a few fruits and a spoonful of eggs, you head out to find an empty table, only to catch sight of your father’s raised arm moving left and right to get your attention.

This vacation would be perfect if it weren’t for them. 

“Good morning.” You say, settling on one of the chairs.

Your greeting goes unanswered. Your father is back on his phone and your stepmother gives you a mouth pressed smile, doesn’t bother pretending she likes you. Every time you were in their presence, you felt like throwing up. Besides the fact that your father is 30 years older than her, you still hate both of them for the affair they had while your parents were together. 

You’ve always known your father was an asshole, but adultery was the final straw. The only reason you kept in contact with him was because of your mother. The saint she was, begged you to not distance yourself from him, scared you would be alone when she was gone, and how could you not grant a dying woman’s wish?

Rio was a cunt, but you couldn't deny that she was attractive. Your father wanting to stay with her wasn't a huge surprise. It was pretty clear, though, that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was obviously with him for the money, and you were pretty sure she was cheating on him. Karma is a bitch, after all, and your dad’s time has finally come. 

Eating your meal slowly, you enjoy the light breeze blowing your hair back. Cargo navy blue shorts and an open white button shirt hide away your black bikini and when you stretch your arms up, you feel eyes on you. Turning towards your stepmother, you’re greeted with sunglasses covered eyes and a similar blouse to yours, her brown hair is down. 

“I have to get some work done, so I won’t be able to spend the day with you.” Your father tells you, finally looking up from the phone.

“That’s fine.” You reply, shoving a spoonful of papaya into you mouth 

Oh, thank goodness you wouldn't have to stay with them today. 

“Rio will go to the beach with you, though.” 

Your eye twitch at that. Glancing in her direction, you see her tongue poking into her cheek and a side smile, clearly enjoying your suffering. 

“I’m sure she would like to do something else. “ You try. 

“No, no. I want you to spend time together, get to know each other.” Your father and his need to make you two close, this whole trip was all about that and yet you still avoid her like you have done all these years. You’ve never wanted any kind of relationship with her and that wasn’t about to change. 

“Whatever.” You breathe out. 

“Come up to our room. Rio needs to change and I can give you girls some cash to go out and buy a few clothes.” Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Spending as much time away from her as possible was one of your goals in this vacation.

He leaves his uneaten breakfast on the table and gets up. 

“Fine.” You concede. 

In the hallway, they walk ahead of you and you take a moment to watch them. Your father moves with the confidence of a rich white man with a plastic filled face. He’s in his 70's and doesn’t have the worst body, but if Rio was putting up with him because of money, it must be torture. She was clearly above his level, with black hair, slim body and defined arms. Anyone could see that. She had a powerful aura and walked with a sway to her hips. 

You look up when you realize you’re staring at her ass. 

The white door opens up with your dad's key card. Their bedroom is huge. The entrance leads to a living room with two couches and a coffee table. At the parallel wall to the entry, a large door opens to a balcony with a beautiful view of the mountains, the water constantly crashing against the rocks. Their bed is on the left side and is separated by a bow shaped wall, the other side of the room is the bathroom. It has a big counter with multiple beauty products. 

“I’m off. There’s a computer room downstairs, if anyone needs me, I’ll be there.” He hands you three hundred dollars and goes to kiss Rio. 

He holds her waist firmly and she turns her head before his lips contact with hers. She pushes him slightly back and pat his shoulders, you hold in your laugh. 

“Okay then.” He mutters embarrassed, ruffling your hair on his way out.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds after he leaves for you to turn to her and say. “Look, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to spend time with you and I’m sure the sentiment is mutual.” 

She fake gasps at you, eyebrows raised and smirks. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” 

Rolling your eyes, you head to the bathroom to wash your hands, they feel sticky after eating the fruits from breakfast. You hear some movement in the bedroom and assume Rio is grabbing her bikini. The wardrobe door closes shut and you glance up in the mirror to watch your stepmother's figure walking behind you. You’re one step away from moving out of the restroom when she slips her blouse and shorts off. 

Time seems to stop as you watch her with her back to you, her ass is completely bare and you stare as she first ties the top knots of the two-piece. She bends to pull up the bottoms and you look down to your hands, your breath comes out shallowly, the image buried into your mind.

“Boo.” A voice says, her breath ghosts your ear and you try to hide your startlement. 

Looking up, you purse your lips. She’s standing a foot behind you and smiles smugly in your direction. When you turn around, her face is closer than you expected.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply.

“What do I want?” She repeats slowly, her fingers running through your hair ends. “You tell me.” She stares into your eyes and you squint, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back.

“Fuck off.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were a whore, but this is beyond anything I’d have expected.” 

“Why? Are you still mad at me because of mommy?” She teases with a fake pout. 

Your entire face closes off and you take a step towards her. 

“Don’t talk about my mother. You could never be half of the woman she was.” 

“Oh, yeah? Your father would disagree.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your palm stings from the contact and you gape at her, surprised at your own slap. With your hand frozen in midair, you observe as her head turns back in your direction, her cheek is stained by red fingers and she lets out a breathy laugh, running her digits through it. 

“You are gonna regret that.” 

The apology that was about to come out of your mouth is cut off by the yank on your scalp, your body is forcefully rotated towards the sink and you hold the impact with your palms. The tug in your hair makes your back bend in an uncomfortable way and your neck aches as it’s pulled back. Rio pressed firmly against your arched ass and rested her chin on your shoulder, looking at your startled face through the reflection. Her nails sink in your flesh.

“What are you doing?” You breathe out, partially scared and slightly aroused. 

“Has anyones ever told you that you’re a brat?” She avoids your question with one with her own, you feel fingers running down your waist. 

“Has anyone ever told you?” You return. 

She scoffs as her mouth breaks into a grin, shaking her head left and right. The digits you felt moving through your covered skin grip you with full force and move to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning it. Panic flashes in your eyes as she pushes it down. You struggle against her hold and she pulls your hair harder. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” 

Breath catches in your throat when her fingers grab a handful of your bare ass. 

“Do you know how I tame a brat?” She whispers in your ear and answers her own question. “I teach her a lesson.” 

The sound of her palm colliding with your backside echoes off the white walls and your surprised yelp follows it. The slap doesn’t hurt, you could bet Rio didn’t put all her strength into it, the worst part, for sure, is that it felt good. The sting brings a delicious burn to your skin and you prevent yourself from asking for more.

The second time it happens, you grab harder into the counter. Words seem to fail you and you stand still, this whole thing feels like a fever dream. You look up at the mirror and see Rio’s eyes completely fixated on your ass, she smoothes her hands through it and you shudder. 

The one that follows is firmer and you groan, unable to contain yourself. Goosebumps mark your skin and your body reacts to the pain, shifting uncomfortably against your bikini.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She asks, raising her brows and giving you a maniac grin.

“Fuck you.” 

She ‘tsks’ behind you and hums, slapping you three times in a row. The reaction is instantaneous and you hate yourself for pushing your ass back against her. 

“Who’s the whore now?” She asks in your ear and laughs. 

The taunting worsens your condition. Slick gathers in your underwear and you bite your lips, stressed by the way your body is reacting to your step mother. She doesn’t give you any type of relief and smacks you two more times. This torture seems to be going on forever, but you’ve only counted seven slaps. You had no idea how long it would last.

You’re about to speak when she strikes you one more time, with an open mouth, you aren’t able to contain the moan that escapes you and your face lights up like a christmas tree.

“You are so cute when you blush, sweetheart.” She tells you and licks your ear, her palm massages your sore butt and she adds. “Everytime we meet, I just want to have you all to myself.” She pulls back and looks at your pitiful position. Arched back, red ass and shorts bunched up mid-thigh, she runs tongue over her teeth. “When I saw the opportunity today, I just knew I had to take it. It’s so easy to rile you up and the fact that you hate me only makes it all the more delicious.” You shudder at her words. 

She is fucking mental. 

She surprises you for a second time with a spank. Tears well up in your eyes, the sting is worse than before and your arousal is burning you up from inside. The whole situation is making you dizzy, you feel like you’d fall down if Rio wasn’t holding you so tightly. Your neck hurts and you almost beg her to stop, but you couldn’t handle the humiliation, so you face it like a big girl. 

She delivers two more and you screw your eyes shut. One tear runs down your face and you feel Rio releasing the grip on your hair, turning you around to face her. 

“Ten slaps, that’s all. No need to cry.” She runs her thumb over your wet cheek. 

The sink presses against your backside and the cold of it helps with the burn, with your eyes still closed, you take a deep breath. You’re still in shock. 

“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks, her palms holding your wrist against your breasts. 

You stare at her for a second. Laughing at her smirk, you spit right in her face. She closes her eyes, whipping the dripping saliva with her fingers. Her entire face closes off, her patience seems to have run thin. 

She doesn’t say anything else, turns around and pulls you by the forearm. You struggle against her hold, but she’s stronger than you expected. Losing your balance when she throws you on the mattress, you don’t have time to get up before she’s upon you, holding your wrist above your head and kissing you roughly.

You hate yourself for it, but it doesn’t take 5 seconds for you to kiss her back. She’s in full control of the kiss and you writhe beneath her, failing to release your arms. Her tongue runs against yours and you can barely breathe from the intensity, your head spinning. 

One of her hands runs down your side to the bikini bottom. 

You suck in a breath when she separates. 

“I could eat you alive in this, couldn’t take my eyes off you at breakfast.” She tells you, licking your cheek. 

Her hand brushes the black fabric before pushing it aside, you are embarrassed by your state. Her fingers run through your wet folds, circling your entrance as you whine, desperate to be fucked.

“You are pathetic.” She says close to your face. 

Fuck your body for reacting the way it shouldn’t. The degradation turns you on even more and you feel your resolve crumbling. Rio chuckles at the intern battle she sees in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to use that pretty little head of yours for long.” 

She rolls off of you. The opportunity to escape presents itself and you don’t move an inch, with your wetness sticking to your thighs, you just want Rio to have her way with you. She smirks at you and crawls up your body until she’s stradling your ribs. 

She doesn't put her full weight on you as she squeezes your cheeks and says. “Let’s see if this mouth is good for anything other than being disrespectful.”

You barely have time to understand the implication before her cunt completely shadows your vision. Her bikini is set aside and she pushes her hips down, making you grip her thighs in an attempt to control her pace. Giving up on your moral high ground, you lick a stripe up her lower lips. She hums on top of you and grinds down, her juices smear on your chin and you’ve only just begun. Apparently you weren’t the only one affected by the spanking.

Focusing your attention elsewhere, you leave a hard bite on her inner thigh, taking your hatred on her skin. She moans and sits completely on your face, making it impossible to breathe. 

“You better get to work, sweetheart.” She mocks you and amends. “Before you pass out.”

You fully believe she’d let that happen so with renewed energy, you grab into her butt and grind her center against your face. Your tongue circles her entrance before going in. Hearing her hand grab the headboard, you begin to move in and out. Your pace is rapid and she seems to enjoy it as she starts to ride your face. Sucking her lower lips makes her groan on top of you, so you repeat the motion and squeeze a handful of her ass, making her moan. 

With little breath, you stick your tongue out and let her chase her own orgasm. She slowly moves in circular motion and spreads her juices around your face. Her movement picks up speed and within seconds she’s bouncing against your mouth. You grip her ass tightly and feel your nose bumping against her clit. 

She becomes a moaning mess on top of you. 

For someone who can’t breathe, however, eternity seems to pass as you struggle to keep up with her. She is clearly on the edge and trying to reach her peak, so, in a last attempt to get her off of you, you run your tongue all the way up before sucking her clit as hard as you can. 

Her movement comes to a halt and you feel her body tensing up, her thighs tighten around your head and your ears ring from the pressure. Her orgasm finally hits and she shudders on top of you, breathing heavily and letting out unrestrained moans. 

She collapses beside you and you take the biggest gulp of air you can manage. Your breathing is as ragged as hers and you curse yourself for having a weakness for older women, this shouldn't have happened. 

Silence befalls you for about a minute as Rio gathers herself and you contemplate your life choices. As soon as her breathing is slower, she gets up on her knees in the bed. All your previous worries leave your mind as soon as she’s back upon you, straddling your waist and biting her lips.

She kisses you and grasps the wrists that hold her face, you press your center against hers and let out a whine when she pulls back and gets out of the bed. With a puzzled face, you sit up and ask.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the beach.” She simply says, grabbing a sun hat and putting it on. 

“What?” You rapidly blink.

“You heard me.” Her face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen in her sulking face. 

“Rio.” You whine like a petulant child. 

She comes towards you and gives you a long peck. Your mouth follows hers  as she pulls away.

“Brats don’t get rewards.” She states and heads for the door, exiting the room with a witchy cackle as you throw yourself back onto the bed. 

[larcenywrites]

Top 5 Logan's kinks 👀?

These are in no particular order!

Top 5 Kinks

Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW | no pronouns used for reader | there’s like- two cutesy moments if it counts for anything :3

Breeding/bare- Sure, Logan’s a man. He’s obviously going to prefer no condom. It just feels better for both parties! But Logan is a possessive man, and a territorial beast. It’s only natural for him to mark you in the most primal way he can! But in the case you are able to get pregnant… that’s actually terrifying. Logan is terrified of actually having kids… (which isn’t to say he doesn’t want them… but there are a lot of other problems involved with that 😅) But at his core, Logan is an animal. More so than a “normal” human. It’s literally just another part of his predator instinct. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rough fucking or making love, once he gets into it, you’ll have to remind him several times to pull out (assuming you remember yourself 😩). It also doesn’t help that he can literally smell when you’re ovulating 😳 he gets… pretty ornery— if he even can be more ornery than normal! He’s possessive and horny and really struggling to care despite the risk and his fears 😮‍💨 And with his nose buried in your neck the whole time, not very subtle as he breathes in your scent and damn near panting, it’s really all he can think about 🥴

Collaring- It probably took a lot of practice and maybe a little bit of taming, but Logan is very fond of collar time :3 I have a lot to say about this one, so there’s actually hcs right here! And maybe I just couldn’t think of another kink ;)

Play-fighting/Rough play- Obviously, the constraints of this kink will heavily depend on you 😅 But anything from a quick wrestle to digging your nails into his throat to—if you rile him up enough in the right situation—straight-up stabbing him is on the turn-on list 🤠 You could push him back on the bed a little too confidently, and you’ll activate that fighter instinct... and Logan is actually just pretty playful 🥹 He’s far too strong for you to actually push around very much, but he still likes to have you fight back ;) Don’t worry! Even when he puts you in a headlock between his big ol biceps, he’s still gentle! But fight back!!!!! Even if you know you won’t win!!! Bite his arm, kick him, something!!!!! Maybe having you struggle in his grasp turns him on (prey drive???), but actually having you fight back gets him rock-hard 😩 Training in the Danger Room? The others definitely give you both a hard time at every session now after a spar turned a little more hands-on one time… it was one time 😒 Back in the bedroom, he can enjoy some general rough play as well. Maybe it’s the healing factor, maybe he’s become quite the masochist after a century or two of living, but don’t be afraid to claw down his back and bite as hard as you need into his shoulder! Choke him while he’s collared, or when you’re feeling pretty confident while he’s letting you top for once! Unfortunately, he won’t have anything to show for all your hard work :( but he enjoyed it!

Grinding/dry humping- Logan is a man of action! And an impatient one at that when he’s gotten riled up. It probably took a while to get him into the groove of non-penetrative sex! Besides, sometimes that’s your only option 😅 But Logan is definitely a true believer now 😈 Wake him up by grinding bare on his tummy, or invade his little stress relief hideaway where he’s smoking and/or drinking to hump his thigh 😘 Watch him roll his head back and close his eyes with a sighed grunt of satisfaction. He doesn’t need to watch. Much more into the feeling, your smell, pawing at your thigh/ass… When it comes to full-on dry humping, the man probably swears more and gets more choked up than during penetrative sex 🥴 And for once, he prefers to be bottom while you ground your hips into his. He has to admit, there’s something about the friction of his jeans and the fact you’re both still fully clothed that’s surprisingly way more hot… or perhaps you’re even both still in uniform! Sometimes the adrenaline rush after training just can’t wait 😘

Scenting/smelling- Maybe not necessarily a kink? But it’s definitely something he does on a regular basis, sometimes without either of you really thinking about it! Sometimes he’s just being playful with it! Like sticking his head under your shirt and rubbing his face on your tummy a few times before just resting there with that heavy sigh dogs do when they get comfy in their bed 🥰 If he’s in a good enough mood and tired enough, you might even get a head bump or two to the shoulder while out with the others! It’s definitely not always so innocent and sweet, though… He can pick up smells better than a damn bloodhound, and, combined with that territorial instinct mentioned earlier, there’s definitely going to be some freaky stuff going on behind closed doors 😏 Yes, it’s probably going to be a bit embarrassing every time he sniffs your sex before going down on you. And when sticks his nose in the wet spots he just made you leave on the end 😐 And probably when he sniffs your neck before rubbing his face there. He’s absolutely gotten possessive about you smelling like another man… or maybe he just really doesn’t like waking up in bed to the smell of LeBeau lingering right next to him 😒 Cuddling is one thing, but when he starts trying to subtly rub you down with his face? Well, it’s not very subtle 😐 But he’ll make sure you smell like him again 😌 It settles his territorial side. It’s comforting, in a way! But it also definitely turns him on a little without him meaning for it! Especially when you walk through and he can smell his own arousal on you from the day before ;)

[rivendell-poet]

Hihi! Can I please have headcanons with the fellowship and Thorin's company having a short (like 5 feet) human s/o. And they be part of the fellowship/company, please? Please take as much time as you need!💕

Hello again! Here's your fill for thorin's company and a short reader. Again, the height isn't specified - but I used 4'9" and 5'0" respectively on height comparison charts. Last one was platonic, this one is definitely romantic - hope you enjoy!

*･༓˚✧❝𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○ Bilbo ○

GN!Reader | No TWs | Wordcount : 1k

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

✧ He’s unusually tall for a dwarf, so is actually around your height. It’s a pleasant surprise for him and you don’t miss the satisfied grin on his face as he realises it.

✧ Doesn’t believe height should have to be a huge factor in most things, but doesn’t deny it’s nice to have the human he’s in charge of not be incredibly taller than him.

✧ It also means that when he gives you his cloak, something in him hated your shivering, it actually fits very well.

✧ Teasingly asks why you look surprised as you realise it’s not very small on you.

✧ Very relieved that he can give you proper dwarvish steel and armour, even when you aren’t sure you’ll find a set.

✧ Drags you into Erebor’s armoury to make sure there’s something for you, and there’s a second of silence as he checks your measurements. You both hope the blush on your faces isn’t too obvious.

✧ Thorin is also grateful you’re not much taller than him, because it makes it that much easier to dip you.

✧ And he can give you a quick kiss without needing to ask you to bend down.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ You’re still taller than him, but not by an uncomfortable amount. And he’s completely fine with that.

✧ He still greets you with the same bow he greets Bilbo with, except this time there’s a wink.

✧ Doesn’t particularly care that you’re human and not a dwarrowdam - he can still love you just as well.

✧ It also means when he gives you one of his knives it still fits perfectly in your hands. Which means that, when he can make you a knife, he only has to worry about making it worthy of you and not about proportions.

✧ Sometimes tries to braid your hair standing up, if he’s got nothing better to do, but often asks you to sit down so he can do something more elaborate.

✧ (Is secretly sad that he can’t give you surprise kisses if you’re not already bending down.)

✧ Very excited to show you the jewellery still in the mountain.

✧ Both because he thinks it looks beautiful, and because you have a bet the majority won’t fit you.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ Is the one who gets teased the most, out of the company. He’s also the one who’s most obviously in love with you.

✧ Kíli is almost late to his bow when he first sees you, instead staring for a bit too long before hurrying to dip down alongside his brother.

✧ Also the dwarf who most easily puts away his pride when he asks you to kiss him. You have to dip slightly, but in the second you do his eyes completely light up as you close the gap.

✧ Still big on hand-holding, even though he needs to have his arm slightly up for you.

✧ Really enjoys you braiding his hair, finds it very relaxing and almost completely leans into you when you do it.

✧ Is also happy to braid your hair, although that requires a little less spontaneity and a place for the two of you to sit together.

✧ Has a specific tug on your hand he uses to signal that he wants a kiss. It’s adorable, and also very obvious because he always starts blushing.

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ If anyone is going to be taller than you, it’ll be Dwalin.

✧ Although he’s very grateful that he’s not massively taller than you - that at most it’s an inch or two. Because otherwise he’d be missing out on so many of his favourite things.

✧ He’d be missing out on seeing your smile so clearly, he’d be missing out on looking easily into your eyes as he says he loves you, he’d be missing out on easily being able to kiss you. The list goes on.

✧ Dwalin is one of the least obvious with his affections to you, but to almost everyone else in the company he’s obviously smitted.

✧ Makes a conscious effort to be gentle around you, although you reassure him he doesn’t have to be.

✧ You like his height because it makes it much less awkward for him to pick you up off your feet and twirl you.

✧ (But he’s probably strong enough to do that even if you’re a lot taller.)

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ An inside joke between the two of you is that, with the hat, you’re the same height. Of course this isn’t actually true unless he’s wearing a top hat.

✧ Which he does get, after Erebor is reclaimed. It’s just tall enough - and perfectly fitted - although depending on the height difference it does start to look comically tall.

✧ Doesn’t mind the height difference at all, it doesn’t stop him from admiring you.

✧ It does, however, make him leave a lot more ‘mess’ around his workspace in the form of wooden blocks.

✧ He can then easily kiss you when on them (although denies it if asked by anyone but you).

✧ Just tall enough to be able to dip you - and is very happy about this fact.

✧ Also grateful you're not much taller, because it means the toys he sometimes makes can still fit easily in your hands and he doesn’t have to adjust them.

✧ (He certainly would adjust them for you, however.)

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨

✧ Largest height difference of any characters here. Would not let that stop him in any way.

✧ Except perhaps a little frown at the fact it’s harder for him to kiss you whenever he wants.

✧ However, he’s completely fine with walking up to you when you’re not busy and doing puppy-dog eyes.

✧ “Can I have a kiss, my love?”

✧ Is sad about the fact he can’t dip you. Doesn’t know how to feel about the fact you can - and do - dip him.

✧ He enjoys it overall, he can actually initiate the kisses. (And is ok with being gently moved around, in the appropriate context.)

✧ Winces the first few times you come into his house and he sees you almost hit your head on the beams. Covers a lot of the ceiling in fabric and pushpins until he can get a more permanent solution.

✧ Hides behind you when there’s a mild conflict. But goes in front of you to protect you if there’s ever any actual danger.

A/N : Hope you enjoyed! I also have one for lord of the rings - although it's a lot more platonic - and it can be found here. Thanks again for requesting <3

thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @recordofragnarokfan2 / @ferns-fics / @fleurdemiel-145 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Yandere JJK - Yuta Okkotsu

When you leave for a month long mission without telling your close friend and maybe crush, Yuuta. You come back and he’s cracked. 

It’d been two months since you left on a mission, only now being able to return back to Japan. When you arrived home to your shared apartment, you had expected a warm welcome from your kind and courteous friend, Yuuta. You imagined he’d tell you, “Welcome home,” ask how your trip was, and offer to make dinner like he usually did on days he felt adventurous enough to cook. The two of you lived pretty harmoniously together, both being capable sorcerers with similar demeanors and all.

What you didn’t expect was to be shoved against the wall of the flat’s narrow hallway kabedon style, body pressed flush against your roommate’s, who had a look on his face like he hadn’t been sleeping for weeks and just found out the cure to his insomnia was something ridiculously simple, bordering on relief and hysteria. 

“Where. Have you been.” He practically growled, your heart beating at an odd pace since he was barely an inch away from your face.

“Uhnn, on a mission. But great news-I’m back home and won’t be working for a bit, aha?” You broke eye contact, unable to withstand the cold intensity of his dark eyes. 

“And you left without telling me? Without telling anyone?” 

“Well, to be fair it was a secret mission! It wasn’t to be disclosed and even then I knew it’d only make you worry and you’d probably end up trying to tag along somehow. I didn’t want to distract you from your work, Yu.”

Your explanation didn’t do much to help calm his nerves. You could tell he was obviously worked up, he was breathing hard, his arms were shaking, and his newfound grip on your shoulders was soul crushing. You knew your friend was strong, but the fact that you couldn’t move at all from your position was impressive. 

“So you just up and left? That’s not fair,” His languid voice spoke with quiet rage. He was never one to raise his voice, not even now. “You don’t get to decide that. What if you had died? What if something happened and nobody from home knew anything about it? Would you be okay with leaving everyone behind? Leaving me?” 

“No…I mean…I wouldn’t want that. I mean hey, I’m here! We’re good now, right? I’m fine! We’re fine.” You said this last part with no confidence, “…Are we?”

Yuuta took a step back, staring at the wall next to you because he couldn’t stand to look at you. “No. We’re not.” 

He let you go, moving to turn back to his room. You grabbed his shoulder. “Hey-wait! I know you’re upset. I would be too. But please, don’t ignore me. I was so lonely on my own, now that I’m back I…well, is it too selfish to say I want you by my side? I missed you a lot.” Your abandonment issues were about to be the death of you.

“You trampled on my feelings, completely disregarding how I’d feel, and now you want pity?”

You deflated. “No. Just. I just want you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Yuta. I didn’t mean it, really.”

A minute of silence passed you both. You felt like you were about to cry. You sniffled. “I really am sorry.” 

He stared at the ground, muttering a soft curse before looking back at you, slowly opening his arms. He sighed. “I can never stay mad at you. I missed you too. C’mere.” 

And you nearly leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. His scowl broke, turning into an ever so slight smile. 

Coming home wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

You thought the two of you were cool and were about to offer to order take-out when he threw you over his shoulder, went to his room, and threw you on the bed, locking the door promptly behind him. 

“Uhhhh, Yuuta?” You asked. “Watcha doing?”

He chuckled darkly. “You confessed to me before your mission, right? And then you bolted before I could even respond. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I should reply in the past months you were gone. And this is my response.”

Your face grew red. How could you have forgotten about that? 

He crawled on the bed after you, leering over you like a tiger would its prey. 

“I love you. More than anything in the world. And when I noticed you left and had no idea when you’d be back, or if you’d come back at all? I thought I’d go crazy. It took everything in me to not kill the elites that ordered you on the mission and drag you back home myself.” He had you caged between his arms again, voice dropping to something thick and heavy at his next words, “I decided that when you came back, if you ever came back, I wouldn’t let you go anymore. I want you by my side forever. And even then forever’s no where near enough.”

“Quite the romantic, are you big guy?”

He smirked at that. “I’ve had enough time to study up on the type of guys you like.” You shivered when you felt his lips glide across your neck, a rough hand slowly sneaking up your stomach, beneath your clothes. 

“You’re mine tonight. And forever.”

Tonight was going to be a loooooooong night. 

[magics-neptunes-things]

Girl on Fire

Hi guys!

Here we are for one with Lia, I didn't write for her since ages. It's from that sweet request, and I hope it will please you :)

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of firefighter job, Alcohol, Men (the creepy ones).

The other chapter of the serie "Lia & The Firefighter" is here.

Lia is the sweetest person you ever met. When people learn that you both are dating, they always look so surprised that you found it almost offensive at first. But then you decided that you in fact love the way Lia seeks protection towards you and how she feels in security with you.

You are a firefighter, and you are more than ten centimeters higher than Lia. Because of you work you have to train a lot and you’ve developed a pretty impressive musculature over the years. You have several tattoos spread on different parts of your body and you laughed your heart out when one of Lia’s friends told you that she claimed not to be a fan of tattoo before. You know that Lia loves your tattoos.

You are part of the London Fire Brigade, and you are very proud of it. You aren’t the chief of one of the Brigade, but your place in the team is perfect for you. You sometimes have trouble because you are what your supervisor like to call a hothead, which makes you roll your eyes every time. For you, you are here to save lives and you have to take all the risks for it.

Very early in your relationship with Lia, you found the deal not to tell her which interventions you are working on. She knows when you are working, obviously, but you both realize very quickly that telling her everything is very anxiety-proving, and you obviously don’t want that for her.

You are not living together, but you like finding her at home when your work is finished. She’s your safe place, she doesn’t have to say or do anything special to make you feel good. You just have to be with her, or when she’s away hearing her voice is enough to help you calm down.

You both work great together and you knew really soon in your relationship that you will fall hard for that girl. You were right and here you are, two years, going to her house in St-Albans after your shift. You know that Lia won’t be at home, she went out with some of her teammates in the neighborhood to have fun. But you plan of getting a shower and wait her looking at TV.

You first grab something to eat however, smiling softly at the love note Lia putted on your plate. She putted leftovers in it for you and when you see that it’s one of your favorite meals, you fell in love with her again.

From You Thank you for the leftover Cookie, it was amazing ❤️

From Lia 🧸 With pleasure :) are you waiting for me?

From You I will, but don’t you dare coming home early for me. Enjoy your night, party girl 🔥 I’m going to take a shower anyway

From Lia 🧸 Tease :(

You roll your eyes and send her a kiss emoji before going to the bathroom. Your clothes are respectively around each other’s house, so you put your uniform in the laundry bin without thinking further. The hot water is very welcome to help you wash the day and help your muscles to relax. It was a long day, with stressful interventions. You would have loved to have Lia’s cuddles right now, but she has the right to enjoy her night with her friends.

Another thing you love about Lia, is the way she choses to sleep in oversize t-shirt, who are so big for her that they come down to her knees. She was doing it before you met so you know that she didn’t wear them on purpose, but at least you are able to steal some of her clothes. That’s what you do today, stealing a beige t-shirt that smell like her and will make the job until she comes home.

Before going to the living room to watch TV, you stop in the kitchen to grab a Red Bull that Lia stocks on the fridge for you, even if “It’s an awful drink for your health”. You drink a lot of them, a bad habit maybe, but you hate coffee and that helps you to be focused all day. When you explained that to Lia, she grumbles something in Swiss German but stopped since that day to try to make you stop drinking it.

You watch some stupid TV show while drinking your thing, happy to be able to relax a little bit. You were doing it for twenty minutes when your phone rings and you don’t check the screen because it’s the ringtone reserved for Lia. Which is strange, she’s supposed to come home with Leah.

“Hello?” you frown.

“Am I waking you up?”

You can hear almost immediately that something is wrong, her voice is a little shaky and you stand up instantly without thinking.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… It’s stupid, but there is some creepy guy who tried to hit on Less all night, and he gets drunker every second. She’s safe with us and didn’t want me to call you, but it looks like he’s waiting for her with some of his friends and –“

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t move from where you are, ok?” you cut her.

“Yeah. Ok.”

You met Alessia several times and you like that girl. Not the way you like Lia obviously (you love her in case you haven’t understood), but she’s a friend of your lover. And there is no place in the world where you want your girlfriend not to feel safe, with or without you.

You put a jean and a black hoodie on, before grabbing your keys to jump on your car. Lia shared her location or her phone with you months ago, so you are able to find her very quickly. The club they chose is rather good noted, you have trouble to get inside at first because of your clothes. But when you insist and explain that it was only to get your girlfriend and some of your friends out, they finally let you in. You explained too what was happening and they promised to talk with one of their colleagues to have a better look of the situation.

When you enter, your eyes are like drags like magnets on Lia and you let them get up and down on her, methodically searching for any injuries. But there is nothing and you just have to look at her friends to know that they aren’t hurt either. They just seem uneasy.

Lia must have felt your eyes on her, because she suddenly raises her head in your direction while you are walking to their booth. She gets up and you hug her as soon as you reach her position.

“You alright?” you frown.

The top of her head is at the height of your chin and she has to tilt her head to look at you.

“I’m fine” she nods before turning on the others direction.

There is Alessia obviously, Kyra, Leah and Victoria. The first feels a little bit more uneasy, in purpose. You don’t know how much you impressed Lia’s friends, even when you smile at her like you are doing now.

“Alright Alessia?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you have to come here, I tried to call my brother, but he didn’t answer.”

“No worries. Should we go?”

They all agree, and you share a look with Lia before putting what you hopped will feel like a recomforting hand between Alessia’s shoulders. When Leah proposed to go to her home, they all agree too.

“Will you come too?” Lia pouts, walking next to you and Alessia.

“If you want to” you answer softly, never able to refuse her anything.

She smiles at you, and you lose yourself several seconds in her beautiful eyes, before feeling Alessia tense next to you.

“It’s them” she mumbles.

You look at the direction she shows you with her eyes, just to see four men in their thirties, more average and boring than ever. They look so smug; it makes you want to go knock them. But you don’t, you know Lia hate this kind of behavior. Plus, you are a firefighter, you are supposed to help people. Even if, in your opinion, put something in their head would help them but that’s another story.

You tense when they whistle Leah, but she shows them her middle finger without any thought and you can’t help but smirk. She was walking in front of you with Kyra and Victoria. But when you pass next to them with Lia and Alessia, one of them walk to stop in front of you.

“Well, Alessia Honey? I thought you will come home with me tonight?”

“She’s not going anywhere with you” you answer before Alessia can even react. “Can you push your damn ass away from here so we can leave please?”

Your ton is cold but still polite. You keep your poker face while the man looks at you with a mixture of haughtiness and surprise. You are a little higher than him, only one or two centimeters maybe. But he seems to finally decide that he might be superior or something.

You groan when he tries to grab Alessia’s arm, passing a protective arm in front of her, making her take two steps backward.

“Don’t fucking touch her” you warn, approaching your face of his.

“Oh yeah? And who’s gonna stop me? You?”

He snorts with arrogance, and you take all you have not to punch him. But then he tries to push you, not making you move a little bit. You are smirking when you talk again.

“Watch me.”

Just when you were arming your fist to punch him, someone grab it. You want to extricate your hand from the surprise grip, but you only need half a second to realize that it’s Lia. At the same time, the man who was at the entry and another security guy came to you. Without ceremony, they take Alessia’s creep to make him leave.

“I’m sorry Ma’am” the guy says. “You can enjoy your night now.”

“We were leaving actually. Can you make sur that he’s not waiting for her at the entry?”

“I will, promise. Just give me some minutes yeah?”

You nod and watch him go outside, before turning in Alessia’s direction while your arm itself wraps around Lia’s waist, without you really thinking about it.

“You alright?” you ask her for the second time of the night.

“Yes. Damn I really thought you’ll kill him.”

You are content to smile at her with complicity without saying anything. You would probably have wreck him, to be honest. But Lia is still next to you, and you know how much she hates violence. Even if it’s to protect one of her friends.

When the man comes back to tell you that you can go, you find the three other girls in the street to go to Leah. You learn in the car that Caitlin and Katie will come too, but it doesn’t change anything for you. You like both of them too.

“How did that guy know her name?” you frown towards Alessia when you are walking to Leah’s house.

“I was stupid. I told him, he was really nice at first. I didn’t know things will turn that way” she mumbles, cheeks red.

“It’s not stupid, you don’t have to defend yourself I was just curious. Plus, you couldn’t know he was a psychopath” you pat her shoulder affectionally.

She smiles softly at you and go straight for a drink in Leah’s kitchen. In the living room, Kyra is relating what happened in the nightclub, exaggerating without any embarrassment most of the details of the story. You roll your eyes and just go sit next to Lia, who smiles at you.

“Here is my little terror” Lia coos.

“Stop” you smile shyly, hiding your face in her neck.

Lia laughs and passes her arms around your body. She’s warm and soft, and you are really tired. You melt against her, enjoying happily her stroking on your back. You were almost dozing off when you hear Katie’s voice.

“Can’t believe that teddybear is turning in Hulk outside of Wally’s arms”

“She was scary honestly” Kyra says.

“Fuck you” you grumble in Lia’s neck.

“Someone’s already working on it darling”

You can hear Katie’s smile in her voice, and you just take slightly your face away of Lia’s neck. You just have to look at her with one eye to see that you were right, the playful smile on the Irish girl being present.

You know it’s only a friendly teasing though, you learned to know Lia’s teammates during the last months, and you like them all. With her temper, Katie is maybe the one who is the closest to your character. Except when you’re with Lia, once again.

“Don’t wake the beast again Katie” Kyra laughs.

You throw a pillow at Katie, making her laugh, before turning in Lia’s direction. She’s already looking at you and you put a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You are beautiful tonight” you said softly, even if the attention of the others isn’t on you anymore.

You let your eyes appreciating her outfit and Lia blushes slightly but kiss your cheek anyway.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asks soon after.

You look at her two seconds, hesitating to lie to her before choosing the truth. You shrug anyway, trying to dismiss how much tired you are.

“I am. But I’ll stay, I want to stay with you”

“No, let’s go home, come on.”

Lia stands up without hesitation. You say your goodbyes to anyone, following Lia who you hold her hand, not letting her go until you have to start your car.

“Thanks for coming tonight” Lia says after some minutes.

“Of course. Like I would leave you alone like this” you yawn.

“Was it a long day?”

You throw a quick look at her, just to see her looking at you once again. Sometimes, you know that she would like to know what you have done during the day. But like you said before, it’s not a good idea.

“Yeah. A long day” you mumble.

You don’t say anything else. Car accidents, fire, you never say anything. Even when you come back home with slight injuries. Your thoughts are quickly turned back in reality when Lia kisses your fingers, putting you away of the memories of your day.

You let Lia go take a shower while you change your clothes again and let yourself fall on your stomach on the bed. You must have fall asleep, because what looks several seconds after, a fresh showered Lia is slipping under the sheets beside you. You roll on your side to snuggle against her, closing your eyes almost soon after.

“Love you” you mumble against the skin of her shoulder.

“Love you too, Pookie. Sleep tight.”

You mumble something back, but you are already almost asleep, and you are pretty sure that Lia was not able to understand the slightest word. It doesn’t matter. She has you, you have her and it’s perfect that way.