#if you’re looking for a nice little vacation place it’s a go-to spot :]

[radioproto]

Went on a little vacation to Great Wolf Lodge for a day with my family; it was quite nice!

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 1

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and cursing (as always)

Masterlist | Part 2

Y/N sighed as she stared at her suitcase. She would never get it closed without breaking the zipper. She opened it again, going through the selection of clothes while she asked herself which of her items weren’t absolutely necessary. The unfortunate answer was that she needed everything. 

She had wild plans for the short vacation her brother had invited her on. According to him, she had been too stressed the last couple of months, and she desperately needed some time off. Along with the promise that he’d take care of everything, she had agreed to join his trip. She could use a one-night stand, or two and a little flirting to get her mind off her busy job.

However, there was the small nuisance of Lando coming along. Ever since he gained some confidence after his career took off and girls started herding him, he had been mocking her and making extremely inappropriate comments. He had changed over the years and Max had told her all about it. He told her about his new endeavours with the ladies; how he brought a different girl home every weekend and never spoke to them again. The attention was feeding his ever-growing ego, and it annoyed Y/N endlessly. He needed someone to put him in his place, and she would volunteer every time.

She smiled triumphantly when she finally zipped her suitcase closed with half an hour to spare. Sitting on her couch and scrolling on her phone, she waited for her brother to pick her up on his way to the airport. They greeted each other quickly before they took off, Y/N and Pietra catching up and discussing their plans for the week as Max drove.

Once they arrived at the airport, she spotted Lando all too quickly, casually leaning against a pillar near the check-in. He was wearing sunglasses (inside – like some lunatic) and a cocky smile on his face when he saw them approaching. 

“Y/N Fewtrell. It’s been a while…”

“If only it lasted longer,” She responded.

Lando smiled at her reply, enjoying her feisty character whereas Max hissed into her ear, “Play nice.” 

“Let’s board?” Lando asked. “The jet’s ready, I think.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Private?”

“Yes. Are you impressed?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed before rolling her suitcase to the plane.

The group arrived at their destination in no time – flying private really did have its perks – and drove the rental car to the resort. Taxis were a no-go when half of the people on the trip were professional drivers, and apparently, so were ordinary cars. 

The porter took the bags out of the trunk and Lando handed the keys to the valet driver before they entered the hotel. Y/N took a seat in one of the luxurious chairs in the hotel lobby while she let her brother manage the check-in. She was people-watching when the group joined her.

“Okay… So, there’s been a little mishap…” Y/N looked at her brother with narrowed eyes.

“What did you do?” She said in a low tone.

“So, I may have forgotten to book an extra room for you…” Max admitted.

“What?”

“And they have no other rooms left, even the most expensive ones are taken.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I’m not,” he paused, “but, you can share with Lando.”

Of course, Lando would oh-so-heroically offer to share his room with her. She could just smack the smirk right off his face.

“Max, can I talk to you for a minute – in private?” Y/N asked, an innocent smile on her face, before forcefully pulling her brother aside.

“I can’t sleep in the same room as Lando, Max. I had plans for this vacation, plans that can’t happen if I’m sharing a room with Lando.”

Max raised an eyebrow at her insinuation but didn’t comment on it. “Well, what other option do you have?” He said, crossing his arms.

“I could share a room with Pietra, and you can share with Lando…” she suggested, smiling up at her brother sweetly. “Please?”

Max sighed. “I don’t know about that, Y/N. Pietra and I have plans too, you know. Plans that include nightly activities. In bed,” He clarified.

Y/N pulled a face of disgust but offered her brother the same courteousness of ignoring the comment. “Are you serious, Max? You’re okay with me, your little baby sister, sharing a room – a bed, with Lando Norris? You know well enough that he’s always trying to get into my pants. This is your fault, you know. You told me you had taken care of everything.”

“I don’t like this as much as you do, but there’s not really another choice, is there?”

“Yes, there is. I told you, I can room with—”

“Y/N. Don’t be childish, you’ll be fine sharing a room for a few nights.”

“He’s going to try to take my innocence, Max. You can’t let that happen. You’re my big brother. You’re supposed to protect me, not throw me into the lion’s den.” Y/N tried, pulling out all the stops in the hope Max would change his mind. There was no other card she could play. She was tugging on his arm, practically begging him in the middle of the hotel lobby. If Lando and Pietra didn’t already know what was going on, they sure would know now.

Max rolled his eyes. “Your innocence has been gone for years, I’m sure,” Y/N gasped in offence, “It’s not going to work, make the best of it, yeah?” He concluded, patting her back before walking back to the group. 

She watched as her brother walked away, frustration clear on her face, but she joined him only a couple of seconds later; she needed to make the best of this, after all, and it was too late to go home now.

As her eyes met Lando’s, she could already feel a wave of irritation come over her. He was standing casually, the stupid sunglasses still perched on his nose, hands tucked in his pockets, and a smirk plastered on his face as if he knew exactly how her conversation had gone.

“You really don’t want to share a bed with me, do you?” He asked her as soon as she was near enough.

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “What gave it away?”

“Could’ve been the part where you begged your brother not to throw you into the lion’s den,” Lando said, raising his eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe the part where you said I’m always trying to get into your pants.” He feigned hurt, putting a hand over his chest. “All those years of flirting down the drain…”

He chuckled softly at her angry expression, the sound infuriatingly smug. “Look, you’re making this into a bigger deal than it is. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice dropped as he leaned closer, “I’ll be the gentleman here. You can take the couch.”

Y/N blinked. “What?” She hissed.

“The couch, it’s all yours. I’ll suffer through the luxury of the bed.” He sighed dramatically before turning toward the elevator, casually slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“See you upstairs, roommate,” he winked, stepping inside as the doors slid shut.

Her jaw was slack as she watched him disappear behind the sliding doors. She turned to Max angrily, “What the fuck is wrong with him? Did he fall on his head as a child or something?”

Pietra laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around Max’s waist. “He’s just teasing you, Y/N. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go up.”

– – – – –

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Y/N said as soon as she entered the room.

“Oh, hello. Good to see you.” Lando smiled smugly from his position on the bed.

She glared at him – if looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over by now. “Get. Off. My. Bed.” She forced out through her gritted teeth.

Lando stretched out even further on the bed, hands behind his head. “Your bed? If I’m not mistaken, you were an afterthought to this vacation. This room was originally mine. You should be glad I’m kind enough to share it with you.”

Y/N stared at him. She wanted to rebuke him and tell him to stay on the couch, but he was right – although she’d never admit it to his face. He was doing her a favour by sharing his room, but he would never be chivalrous enough to sacrifice his bed. She took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, her voice cold and direct. “I guess we’ll share the bed.”

“Fine with me,” Lando said offhandedly as he messed with the remote control.

“Alright, then. I’ll go get ready for dinner.” 

The silence that settled over the room was awkward, at best. Y/N felt Lando’s eyes pricking in her back as she did her makeup, and the eye contact through the mirror didn’t make it any better.

“What?” She asked, hoping for some conversation to fill the quiet.

“Nothing,” Lando responded, averting his eyes and continuing to browse through the series and movies on the TV.

Y/N frowned at the response. She’ll have to raise a topic of conversation herself, then. “Why is it so cold in here?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Lando retorted.

“Do you think it’s cold or are you okay with the temperature?” She continued, but Lando merely shrugged in response.

Y/N sighed, setting down her brush and powder before getting up to look at the air-conditioning setting. In contrast to the rest of the room, it was an old-fashioned system with a disk with a pointer to set the temperature. She turned the disk, but the pointer didn’t move.

“Are you getting hotter?” She asked confused, not feeling a temperature difference in the air blowing out of the air conditioner. 

“Don’t even try,” she added quickly before Lando could respond, already seeing the smirk form on his face.

It quickly changed into an innocent smile, “What? I was just going to say I don’t feel a difference.”

“Mhm, sure. I think the air conditioner is broken. I turned the temperature up, but it’s not getting any warmer…”

Lando got up from the bed with a sigh and walked closer to look at the buttons himself. 

“You don’t have to get so close…” Y/N commented when she felt his breath hitting her neck.

“I’m trying to see what the buttons say, Y/N. I have to get close in order to do that.”

“You’re getting in my personal space.”

“Personal space? What’s that? I thought we were past the formalities.”

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. 

“I don’t know why it’s not working,” Lando continued, “It must be broken,” he concluded before walking back to the bed. 

“What? Can’t you fix it?”

Lando looked at Y/N incredulously, “How am I supposed to fix it?”

“I don’t know… Aren’t you good with technology and stuff?”

“That thing is ancient, Y/N.”

She huffed. She’d just have to deal, then. She quickly changed into one of her dresses and finished her hair.

“Aren’t you going to change?” She asked Lando, who was still lying on the bed in his plane clothes.

“Hm?”

“We’re leaving any minute now. It’d be nice if you changed into something decent for dinner. We’re not eating at some dive bar, you know.”

Lando rolled his eyes and sighed, “Don’t you ever get tired of yourself?”

“Excuse me?” she retorted, crossing her arms as she stared him down, about to scold him when there was a knock on the door.

“You’re lucky this time,” she added, before letting Max and Pietra in. 

She plastered a sweet smile on her face and complimented Pietra on her outfit.

“I can say the same about you,” Pietra responded kindly, pulling Y/N in for a hug.

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Y/N waved off her comment.

“Are you ready to leave?” Max cuts in.

“Yes, don’t know about Lando though. He wouldn’t change.”

“I’m ready,” he interjected. “I don’t need as much time as some people here,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Okay, let’s go.” Max pulled her out of the room before Y/N could respond, her mouth already open to rebut his rude comment.

“Did you hear that, Max? How on earth am I supposed to get through the night – let alone the entire vacation – when he talks to me like that? I swear, I’m going to strangle him in his sleep—” 

“Let’s not do that. You just need to adjust a little bit.”

“Did you hear what he said before? He asked me if I never get tired of myself. Do you know how insulting that is? He’s absolutely insufferable! His ego’s way too big, he could use someone to knock it down for him,” Y/N kept rambling as Max led her to the elevator, basically pushing her in before she quieted down.

Pietra and Lando joined them only a few seconds later, and the cocky grin on Lando’s face showed he knew exactly how much he had ticked her off, and the enjoyment he took from it. Y/N glared at him throughout the elevator ride. However, despite his earlier comments and the way he had annoyed her all day – if not all her life – she couldn’t deny he looked good. 

The white shirt he had changed into, with the top buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, accentuated his muscled arms, and allowed her to see the glimmer of the silver chain around his neck – she had to admit he was attractive. When Lando caught her looking she quickly averted her gaze, looking at her nails as she picked at them. But he had already noticed, his grin only becoming cockier. The confidence with which he carried himself, although extremely frustrating and unnecessary, had caught her eye along with all the other girls’, but it wasn’t enough to make up for his annoying behaviour.

– – – – –

The dinner was uncomfortable. 

Of course, Y/N and Lando had to be seated across from each other. And if the discussions earlier that day didn’t display their dislike for each other, the lack of conversation at the dinner table certainly did. They didn’t exchange a single word until Y/N snapped at him.

“Would you stop looking at me?” 

Her patience had worn thin after feeling his eyes on her every other second, but Lando merely smirked at the annoyance in her voice, “Where else am I supposed to look?” he asked innocently.

“I don’t know. Your food, maybe?” She shot back.

Lando raised his hands in surrender, before turning his attention to Max and Pietra, who were deep in conversation. Y/N tried to focus on their discussion, but the persistent feeling of Lando’s gaze on her was impossible to ignore. Every time their eyes met, his smirk only grew, making her jaw clench tighter.

When the meal came to an end, Y/N was more than ready to leave. She quickly collected her bag and jacket before joining Pietra on the walk back. With Lando far away from her, she could finally relax and talk comfortably, without being distracted by a pair of eyes burning holes in her face. The group quickly made their way back to the hotel, and after the elevator ride, Y/N and Lando were once again left alone.

“It’s cold in here,” she mumbled, switching the lights on as she entered the hotel room.

“You don’t say,” he responded sarcastically.

Y/N sighed, deciding to ignore the comment and rather focus on the problem at hand. “Okay, we should probably discuss how we’re going to do this…” Lando looked at her confusedly, so she continued, “As concluded earlier today, we’ll share the bed. I’ll take the left side if that’s okay?” 

Lando nodded, so she continued, “The bed is big, so if you dare cross over to my side, I’ll choke you in your sleep—” 

“Ooh, kinky,” he interjected, and Y/N flashed him a fake smile, “or I’ll tell Max, and he’ll handle it for me,” she finished.

Now, usually, Lando wouldn’t care much for her threats, but he knew Max was protective over his sister and from experience, Lando also knew that Max would indeed fuck him up if he crossed Y/N’s boundaries. He was actually surprised that Max was okay with him and Y/N sharing a room; he was usually up her ass whenever she so much as stood near a man. He didn’t know whether to be glad about it or not; did Max think Lando was like a brother to his sister, that nothing would ever happen between them, or did he trust him enough not to do anything without her permission? 

“Fine, fine. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he told her.

Y/N squinted her eyes at him. 

“I will,” he repeated. 

She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but the sincerity in his voice suited her a bit. She nodded and quickly changed into her pyjamas in the bathroom before slipping under the covers on the left side of the bed – as promised. She lay on her side, facing away from the right side where Lando would soon settle. She stayed as close to the edge as she could without falling off, so much so that Lando raised an eyebrow at her when he returned.

“You okay over there? Not lonely or cold or anything? I could warm you up if you like,” he suggested, the amusement evident in his tone.

“I’m fine,” she muttered. She wasn’t really, though. The room was freezing with the air conditioner still blasting cold air, and the thin comforter, which would normally be fine for the temperatures outside, wasn’t helping much.

She felt the bed move as Lando shifted, but she stayed silent, quietly staring out the window where she could just barely make out the street lanterns through the thin curtains. Although she pretended not to care (and would continue to do so), being this close to him made her uneasy – not because she didn’t trust him, although she wasn’t entirely convinced yet, but because of how aware she was of him. His presence, the warmth radiating from his body, and the faint scent of his cologne were all impossible to ignore in this proximity.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, but her mind refused to quiet. Despite everything, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he had actually been pretty decent at dinner –  apart from his frustrating staring habit – and how relaxed, confident, and hot he looked in that shirt… She hated how easily he affected her and how only he could wind her up without any effort at all.

– – – – –

Part 2

[judespoets]

welcome to miami | jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: none

category: fluff

summary: jude and reader spend a quiet evening together on their little miami vacation

Jude and you were spending a lazy afternoon at the luxurious beachside resort in Miami.

Jude, looking relaxed in his colorful shorts, leaned back on the cabana's cushioned seat, holding a fresh coconut drink. You, wearing a bikini and large sunglasses, lounged next to him, basking in the sun's warmth.

"Miami really knows how to do beaches," Jude said, taking another sip of his coconut water. "This is perfect.

"Absolutely," you agreed, your eyes twinkling behind your sunglasses. "I could get used to this lifestyle."

Jude chuckled, setting his coconut aside. "Me too. It’s a nice change from the usual hustle."

You nodded, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard lately."

He smiled, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Thanks, babe. And you too. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate with university lately."

You shrugged with a smile. "It’s all worth it when I get to spend time with you like this."

You fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop.

After a while, you broke the silence. "You know that little café we found yesterday? The one with the amazing pastries?"

Jude’s face light up. "Yeah? That chocolate croissant was life-changing."

You laughed. "I think we should go back tomorrow morning. Start the day with another one of those croissants."

"Deal," Jude agreed. "We can make it a tradition. Every morning, a new pastry adventure."

You grinned. "I like the sound of that."

You continued chatting about your favorite moments from the trip so far.

Jude recalled your jet ski adventure, where you, despite your initial hesitation, ended up loving the speed and the spray of the ocean.

"I was terrified at first," you admitted, laughing at the memory. "But once we got going, it was so exciting."

"I knew you’d love it," Jude said, pride evident in his voice. "You’re braver than you think.

You smiled, leaning closer to him. "With you, I feel like I can do anything."

Jude wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "Same here. You give me so much strength."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the beach, you decided to take a walk along the shore. Hand in hand, you strolled along the water’s edge, the waves gently lapping at your feet.

"This is paradise," you said softly, squeezing Jude’s hand. "I don’t ever want to leave."

Jude stopped and turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. "We’ll take this with us, wherever we go. We’ll make our own paradise, every day."

Your eyes shined with emotion. "I love you, Jude."

"I love you too, Baby," he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

"Maybe next time we can explore Europe together," Jude suggested . "Visit some of my favorite spots."

Your face light up. "That sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to see more of Europe."

Jude nodded with excitement in his eyes. "We’ll make it happen. Just you and me, discovering new places."

You walked back to your cabana as the sky transitioned from gold to deep orange. You settled back onto the lounge chairs, sharing a blanket as the air cools slightly

"What should we do tonight?" You asked, resting your head on Jude’s shoulder.

Jude thought for a moment. "How about a quiet dinner by the beach? Just us and some good food.”

"Perfect," you agreed, your voice content.

You spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other’s company, the stress of your everyday lives melting away in the magic of your little Miami getaway.

[sanguineterrain]

sunset anew | dick grayson

Summary: You're a little nervous to become the Mrs. Grayson. Luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. 

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: wedding, anxious reader, the batfam actually gets along, fluff!! (dick is my wife.)

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

Contrary to popular belief, Gotham isn't a complete eyesore. 

Sure, it's no vacation spot, and it's probably not the ideal place to settle down. But there are beautiful parts within the grunge. 

Your wedding planner had shown you multiple locations, from Napa to the Bahamas. Bruce had insisted cost was no problem.

But that wasn't what made you choose Gotham. 

Your forearms rest on the polished stone-top railing that surrounds the rooftop of the nicest hotel in the city. Thirty-two floors, all rented out for you. 

You look down at the tiny cars and people below. Your heart swoops. 

Your heels are in one hand. The sun crests the horizon; soon, yellow will melt into buttery orange and pink. It’s the first sunset you knew. The only sunset you know. And it’s the same one you saw the first time you met your almost-husband.

You'd come up here so you wouldn't miss it. Just this one time.

“Found her!”

You jump as the roof access door opens. Damian and Duke walk out. Duke gives you a warm smile.

"Jesus, you guys," you say, hand on your chest. “Way to scare a girl.”

“Sorry. You look really nice,” Duke says, smoothing his bowtie. 

Damian crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed.

“Frightening you is the least of our concerns. We thought you’d run. Which would be understandable, considering the family you’re marrying into, but Father spent a lot renting the hotel. Plus, Grayson would’ve been inconsolable, and extremely annoying.”

“Dude,” Duke says, elbowing Damian. “Chill out. It’s not like she was actually going to leave him at the altar.” He squints at you. “Were you?”

“No! I wasn’t going to leave him at the altar, oh my God.”

Damian nods. “Good." He taps his watch and speaks into it. "Grayson, our work is done. Come to the roof.”

Duke gives you a wave and they wordlessly leave the way they came. You sigh and start to slip your heels back on. There’s some whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and Damian shouts “no!” before it’s silent. 

You have one heel on when Dick emerges.

He’s unfairly handsome in his tux, hair somehow both neat and tousled. He also has what looks to be Damian’s tie wrapped around his eyes. You step out of your heel, unsure.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It’s okay, baby. Why are you blindfolded?"

"Bad luck to see the bride, duh."

You can't help your idiotic grin at that. "I think it'll be fine, Gray. You didn’t have to take his tie.”

"Maybe you haven't met my family; we're not known for our good luck streaks.”

"I'm madly in love with you,” you say, feeling gooey.

Dick beams, and you nearly forget about the sunset altogether. 

"I'm madly in love with you too." 

You kiss him and he blindly returns it, following your lips even after you step back. You cluck your tongue and nudge him away. He obeys, though not without sliding his hand onto your waist and tugging you away from the roof. You follow because he's such a worrier.

Dick reaches for your hand and squeezes. 

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. Sorry I disappeared. I didn’t know the calvary would be sent after me.”

“Yeah, uh…” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Again. I got worried.”

The guilt sinks its claws deeper. You frown and touch his cheek. 

“I would never leave you at the altar, Dick.”

“I know! I know that. They’re idiots; don’t listen to ‘em, whatever they said."

You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again. He squeezes your wrists and you can feel the relief rolling off him in waves, as much as he tries to hide it. 

“Was my absence noticeable?” you ask.

"Just to us. Don’t worry about it. The Wayne family are professional crowd entertainers."

"I take it Bruce is doing card tricks?"

"Yep,” Dick says. “He’s pretty good too. Might retire the suit." 

You laugh. "Sorry I'm missing it."

"Trust me, you'll get your fill soon."

“We can go down now,” you offer, even though you’re still waiting for that sunset. 

He shakes his head. “There’s no rush.”

You smile and rest your head on Dick's shoulder. He accepts you instantly and wraps his arm around your waist.

"You feel really beautiful," he says. 

"Charmer."

"I'm serious!"

"I know. That's why I'm so damn sweet on you, Gray."

"I've got a shot with you, then?" he asks. 

"Oh, big time." 

He nuzzles your neck. You breathe in his scent: wine from earlier, detergent, the hair gel he uses to effortlessly capture the bed head look. 

"We didn't have to do this today, you know,” he says, voice vibrating through you. 

You pick your head up in alarm. 

"What're you talking about?" 

"If-if you're getting cold feet, I mean," he adds. "Second thoughts. We can always reschedule."

"Dick, no, I'm not getting second thoughts. I want to marry you today. I will marry you, okay? We've been together for almost four years."

"So? You know how long Batman and Catwoman have been skirting around each other? We've all got a wager going. Including Alfred!"

You snort. "Okay, well, excuse me if I don't want your family to bet on how long it's going to take us to marry."

"Afraid that ship's sailed."

"Of course it has."

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. His arms drape over your hips. You trace the shape of his lips with your index, up his Cupid's bow and up the tip of his nose. Dick has such a lovely nose. You've always thought so. 

“So who bet that I’d actually made a run for it?”

“That feels like a trick question,” he says. 

“Jason?"

“Jason adores you, actually. He didn’t doubt your loyalty once.”

“Damian had his doubts." 

“Damian's thirteen, he doesn’t know shit.”

You snort and kiss his cheek. “Well, I forgive him. He was protecting you, that’s all.”

"If it helps, everyone else was certain of your loyalty," Dick says, letting you paw at his face. “Myself included.”

"That does help, actually.”

Dick stops your hand in its journey and rests your palm on his cheek. 

"What were you thinking about?" he asks quietly. 

You stiffen a little. "Nothing. Just needed some air."

"You sure?" 

You know what he's doing: feeling your pulse to see if it changes, listening to your breathing, watching if your shoulders tense. He's a detective first, and a damn good one. 

You slump in defeat. 

"What if I'm not… good at this? At being… us?”

"What?" Dick asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Of course you’ll be good at it. The real worry is me, babe. I mean, you're incredible. I'm the one who runs around in spandex at night." 

"Gray, I'm serious," you say, resting your head on his heart. "All those people who’ve been watching us, waiting for the future Mrs. Grayson to slip up. I just—I can't help but wonder if it's prophetic. I wonder if maybe you deserve more." 

"Hey. Now I can't predict the future. But even if I could, I don't believe there is a timeline out there where I could ever want or need anyone but you. And you're not alone in this, you know? I'm scared too. I'm terrified I'm putting you in danger. Of fucking up completely. But I also know that sometimes… we get good things, you know? It's not all doom and gloom. I mean, you being in my life is proof of that." 

God, he always knows how to make your heart ache just right. 

"I really want us to work," you whisper, clutching his suit coat. "I just don't wanna let you down, Gray." 

"Baby," Dick says, curling around you. "Sweetheart, where did this come from? What makes you think that? You've never let me down, not once. I love you. It's okay if you feel like you don't know what you're doing, 'cause I don't know either." 

You reach to untie the tie. Dick lightly grabs your hand, but you continue to tug anyway. 

"Wait, babe—"

"Dick, it's okay. I want to see your eyes. Please?" 

He lets you pull it off. He squints at the light, adjusting. Then his gaze drops to you and his lips part.

"Wow," Dick says, hands sliding up your arms. 

You smile. "Like it? Selina helped me pick the dress, so it's all thanks to her."

"Fuck, baby. I wanna marry you right now. Screw everyone down there. Let's elope."

You laugh, combing back his hair with your fingertips and tucking loose strands behind his ears. 

"Gray, you know we can't do that. What about Bruce? He'd be devastated and more than rightfully pissed."

He shrugs. "So what? I'm the favorite, I can get away with it."

"Well, what about Alfred? You'd break his heart."

Dick pauses, mulling that over. You kiss his chin. 

"Damn it," he says. "You're right. I couldn't do that to him. He's arguably more excited about our wedding than we are." 

"Mmhm. But I appreciate your attempt to be spontaneously romantic," you say, smiling. 

Dick tugs you closer still, rubbing your back. 

"I would elope," he says. "If you really wanted to. You could convince me to do just about anything. Even if it unleashed Alfie's wrath."

"Don't tell me that," you chide playfully. "You'll give a girl all sorts of notions." 

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Dick starts to kiss up your neck and you happily let him, eyes slipping closed. It's good, until—

THUMP!

You jump. Dick immediately pushes you behind him. 

The roof access door swings out so hard it slams against the wall. Jason glares, bowtie already loosened. 

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna miss your own wedding, dumbass!" He nods at you. "Hey, future sis. Looking good." 

"Thanks, Todd." 

"Mm. Everything okay?" 

You smile. "Everything's wonderful."

"Yeah, I'm okay too, thanks," Dick says, scowling. 

"I know you're fine, idiot. Now come put a ring on it before Alfred hunts you down himself." 

Jason turns on his heel, shaking his head. "Responsible one, my ass…"

You look at Dick, grinning. 

"Seems like we should go do the marriage thing," you say.

"Seems like." He squeezes your hip. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah, Gray. I do. Thanks. I love you."

"Love you too, baby. Let's go marry the hell out of each other." 

The sunset has morphed into a violet night. But you don't mind that you missed it; you know there will be countless sunsets to come. 

[hysteria-things]

Can you make nsfw abcs with Matt and Chris separately please??

NSFW ALPHABET

read matt’s here

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i had a ball doing this LMAO

posting this and then a matt fic later today :)

hope you like it anon!

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

a lot of people say chris wouldn’t be the best at aftercare but i honestly disagree. he’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable and safe before he tends to his own needs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

chris low-key likes his lips. wherever he kisses you he loves how perfect his lips feel on your body. (a bonus is his hair. he goes spiraling on the inside whenever you tug on it)

man loves your ass. the way it jiggles and shit at the slightest thing; muah chefs kiss. especially how it recoils when he’s taking you from behind.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

hates using condoms and will always cum inside you. you’re obviously on birth control, but also have extra plan b’s just in case. will admire the way it oozes out of you, always thinking about how hot you look with his cum inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

will never admit this but he enjoys it when you “tease” him in public; aka doing normal things and getting turned on by it. you can simply bend down to get something off a shelf or lean against him in crowded areas and bro is bricked up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

definetly has like two bodies before you. although, sex comes naturally to him, and knows what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

LOVES LOVES LOVES BACKSHOTS. argue with the wall.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

leans more toward serious but if you guys aren’t really going at it he’ll pop a joke here and there.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

keeps it trimmed very nicely. the thought of being clean shaven will make him feel bald.

he really doesn’t give a fuck if you have hair or not. as long as the pussy is fire he’s not complaining!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

will make out with you until you can’t breathe. especially if his brothers are home, he’ll make sure to keep you quiet by having you moan in his mouth instead.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if he’s away on tour or a vacation, he has no problem pulling up the videos you guys took in his my eyes only.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

dumbification and breeding. it honestly turns him on even more when you can’t speak and all you can think about is his dick buried inside you. gives him motivation because he’s the only one that can do that to you and he wants to make sure you know it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

either the bed or anywhere there’s a surface. a desk or counter, for example. he loves bending you over taking you right there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

the sounds you make. your moans and squeals are like music to his ears and that alone can send him over the edge in minutes.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

THREESOMES. would rather die than share you with anybody else; he’s too protective over you for that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a mixture of both, but likes giving a little more. will always be up for a blowjob, but whenever he eats you out it’s still for his pleasure. he’ll thrust his pelvis into the mattress to get some friction. skill-wise, let’s just say he knows the spots that will make your eyes roll back and legs shake.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough for sure. his mission will be to wreck your body. however, if you guys are having sleepy sex then he’ll go slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

will do them anywhere anytime. at a party? he’ll take you to the bathroom. at a clothing store? to the dressing room, you’ll go.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if you want to try something new, he’ll be down to do it. if there’s something you guys try and don’t like, then it’ll never happen again. he’s glad you guys tried it out either way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he wishes he could do like five but in reality, he can do two. although, he can last for a while until you’re completely satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t own any but you do. so when you guys are at your house, he’ll use the vibrator on you. it’s pretty rare when you do it though because he likes to do the pleasuring. not some toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

will tease you just to mess with you and make you mad. he finds it funny when you cross your arms and huff at him, but the teasing will be worth it in the end.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

dirty talks A LOT, but when he’s not he’ll grunt every time he thrusts back into you. he will let a whimper slip if you clench out of nowhere and it throws him off guard.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

will take in how perfect you wrap around his cock. his jaw will slack as he watches himself pump in and out of you, especially if you cum and it starts to drip down his shaft.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he’s big 100%, but more girthy than lengthy. in every picture i’ve seen, he’s always had a bulge.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

chris is a horndog 25/8. you could be driving back to your house and he’ll call you to have you turn around.

“i’m horny again.”

“i JUST left???”

“sorry.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

bro knocks the fuck out LMAO he’ll see if you need anything afterward, but he’s half asleep when he asks.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx

[magpiepills]

Made Me Love You

Chapter 1

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing Joel Miller x f reader x Tommy Miller

work count: 4.0

Summary: you’re Tommy Miller’s girlfriend, you’re on vacation with him and Joel. Tommy likes it when you’ve got an audience, Joel prefers being an active participant!

Warnings: PIV, oral (m and f receiving) dirty talk, voyeurism, male masturbation, jealousy, cuckolding, big dicks, bigger dicks, praise kink, cream pies, no use of Y/N, no physics description of reader, fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst, girlfriend sharing, age gap unspecific everyone is 18+ and consenting, terrible editing, shitty formatting. etc., etc., so on and so forth.

A word from the author: This is a repost! The ol’ bangfest! I don’t know what else can be said.

My Masterlist

You and Tommy are very handsy. He’s always got an arm slung around you, a hand on your hip, his fingers laced in yours, his head on your shoulder, or his lips peppering you with kisses. Even in front of family and friends. Most everyone was used to him hanging on you every moment you were together now, if not a little grossed out by the nonstop PDA.

When you were with his brother, Joel, though- he seemed like he was waiting his turn, watching expectantly when Tommy kissed you and squeezed your ass. Following Tommy’s hand with his eyes as it rubbed up and down your thigh on the couch. He never said anything, never touched you, but you got the feeling he might’ve wanted to. If you were honest with yourself, you wanted him to want to. He was gorgeous, charming, funny, friendly, and if the ever present bulge in his pants was any indication, he was hung. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be pinned under him, stuffed full and panting. Sometimes when it was Tommy on top of you, you let your mind transform him into his older brother. It was a dangerous thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Now, for five days you’d be sharing a hotel room with Tommy and Joel while Tommy had a conference and you had meetings. Joel had free time between projects of his own and came to meet you, insisting that your downtime could be spent relaxing together on the beach, going to dinner, and seeing the sights. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Tommy was adamant that you all share a room for as much time together as possible.

Nothing was planned for the night, you had late meetings and you assumed Tommy and Joel would go out together. You were surprised to walk into the room and see they were both in bed, under the covers, Tommy with a book and Joel scrolling on his phone. They looked like they were in for the night, suitcases open and half unpacked, snacks and cups on the table, tv on the corner tuned to a soccer game with the volume too low to hear. It was nice walking into such casual relaxation. You kissed Tommy hello, then went to the shower, taking your time to wash and condition your hair, shaving your legs, slathering on lotion and oil, before going about an abbreviated version of your skincare routine. You brushed, flossed, and flicked off the bathroom light on your way out, ready to fall into bed, hoping for deep and dreamless sleep.

You expected Joel would vacate your spot and get into the empty and unrumpled bed not three feet away, but he was still firmly in place when you stood beside them, phone and sleep mask in your hand, big t-shirt covering your ass, but not by much. You were the picture of bedtime readiness. Joel didn’t even glance up from his phone and you gave Tommy an almost audible look, expecting him to oust his brother. Instead he pulled you closer, wrapped an arm around your hips and down onto him. “You smell so good, baby. I’ve been thinking of you all day.” His voice was low and sweet, and if you were alone you’d have pressed your hips down into his and shown him that you’d had some thoughts of your own, but…you weren’t. Joel still scrolled on his phone, oblivious. Damn him. Tommy was undeterred. He pulled you tight against him, kissing your neck, rubbing his warm hands down your back, pulling the hem of your shirt up enough to squeeze your ass. You wiggled in protest, very much aware of your company. “He doesn’t care.” Tommy assured you. “Do you care, Joel?” Now he looks up from his phone. Of course. He looks at you, sprawled over your boyfriend, panties exposed, neck shining where Tommy had been kissing and sucking up and down from your ear to your shoulder. He took in the sight before answering “I don’t care, baby.” You knew he was teasing, but the pet name and the proximity gave you the tiniest thrill.

With his older brother’s blessing, Tommy resumed his groping. If they didn’t care, why did you care? It felt unreal to be thinking such a thing, let alone be doing it. You relaxed a bit. Returning his kisses, deepening them, seeking his tongue with yours, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth, giving it a nibble. “Missed you today.” You cooed at him before kissing his neck the way he’s kissed yours, knowing how he would respond.

As predicted, you felt him shift under you, the fell-tale bulge growing against your hip. He groaned and bucked up gently, then surprised you by rolling you onto your side next to him, into the middle of the bed. You felt Joel’s firm shoulder and arm against your back, but he didn’t move. He only shifted onto his side to face you when Tommy threw off his blankets and sank down next to you, leaning into your kiss, one hand at the back of your neck, fingers twining in your hair, and the other on your naked hip, pressing you down into the mattress and rubbing with his thumb. “Show me you missed me. I don’t believe you.”

His words moved you, flipping a switch in your brain that needed to prove yourself, to claim him, to make him love you best. If he wanted to play this game, you’d play and win. You still didn’t know why his brother was in your bed watching all this, but you didn’t care anymore. Maybe he wanted to play the game too. Tommy certainly didn’t seem to mind the company. Not if his fully hard cock was any indication. You wondered if Joel was hard too, but you didn’t dare look at him to see. Not yet. You wanted to see how far Tommy would let this go first. You pulled your shirt over your head and let it fall to the floor, pulled him closer with your leg over his hip, and reached into his boxers to take his length into both hands, squeezing and gliding over the fat head and thick, velvety shaft. You kept his gaze, and stroked him slowly.

“Thought about doing this. Thought about your cock in my throat, too. Stayed wet the whole day.” Your voice is somewhere between a whisper and a moan, meant for Tommy’s ears, but just loud enough for Joel to hear and imagine you’re talking to him. Tommy responded how you knew he would. “Suck it for me? Hm? Just a little, baby. Let me see how you missed me.” He laid on his back again, one leg straight, the other bent, foot planted on the mattress to open himself up to you. You scoot down, leaving kisses in a trail down his chest and stomach. You kissed his thighs, and heard blankets ruffling beside you. You ventured a peek over your shoulder , and were met with his Joel’s dark stare. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or enjoying your little performance. As if he could read your mind, though, he rubbed the blankets over what you can only guess was his erection. This was new. You let him see you watching him, then you flick your gaze back to Tommy, but he had already caught on and was looking at his brother too. You didn’t wait to see his reaction, you bit his thigh, licked down to his balls, and took one in your mouth while you languidly stroked him, watching the sensation wash over his face. Tommy isn’t a very vocal lover, but you can tell when he’s enjoying himself by the flush of his chest and cheeks and the way his chest expands with every breath. You wonder if Joel is still watching, admittedly excited by the idea of him getting off on the sight of you.

Joel is older, and if you were being honest, better looking than Tommy. They had the same smile, but Joel’s eyes were kinder and his dimple made him look boyish. His shoulders and arms were thick with muscle and his chest was broad. He wasn’t lanky like Tommy. He looked stronger. Bigger.

You shift onto your knees, ass in the air, guiding his length into your mouth and against the back of your throat, lips tight around the base of Tommy’s cock. You use your free hand to maneuver him onto his back to get him deeper and to give Joel a better view. When you started sucking up and down the full length of Tommy’s cock, slurping and gagging obscenely, Tommy spoke. “Look at this. Look how good she takes a cock. Fuck. So fucking deep.” You smiled around him at the praise and looked up at him, batting your lashes innocently. You heard more movement from beside, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Joel moving a bit closer, and watching you intently. Spurred on by their attention, you reach between your own legs, rubbing your clit through your panties. “You like when he watches?” Tommy asks, astonished and amazed. Your hum around his cock was your answer.

Joel’s head was spinning. He didn’t see this in the cards for tonight. Didn’t expect to be watching his little brother’s girlfriend sucking him off and touching herself, but he was pleased with this turn of events. He had been watching you all week, loving how you looked in your dresses and how you were always touching Tommy, holding his hand, grasping his arm, kissing him, hugging him, and he didn’t feel at all guilty when he came into the room yesterday afternoon and saw him rubbing your pussy under your swimsuit. You were on the balcony and when you didn’t notice him coming into the room he watched shamelessly, growing hard with jealousy and desire. He had showered in the middle of the afternoon just to give himself some relief. He had soaped his body, paying special attention to his heavy, aching cock. His grip was firm, like he imagined your cunt would be. He held his breath when he came, eyes squeezed shut, leaning with one hand on the shower wall to keep him upright, the water was hot, but the water pressure was low and the water carried his spend down the drain slowly as he watched it disappear, thinking how he’d rather it be painted across your heaving chest.

Watching you now, knowing that you knew he was watching, knew he was touching himself, and that you were into it sparked something intense in Joel. He watched you, rapt as you pulled off Tommy’s cock and turned your head, freezing under your gaze, only to melt again when he felt your hand on his hip, dangerously close to his growing erection.

Tommy’s voice was lower now, urging you on. “You should suck his cock.” You smirked at the older Miller as you repositioned yourself to make room for him to get even closer, then held Tommy’s hand and you leaned up to kiss his brother. Joel’s lips were soft and warm, opening for you easily to deepen the kiss before he let go. He threw his own blankets off, giving you your first good look at his sizable erection straining around his obnoxious neon green boxers. “You want this, sweetheart? I’ll let you take it. Look so pretty with a dick in your mouth.” You looked back to Tommy. His eyes were dark and his lips were parted, stroking himself and watching his brother make you blush with his dirty suggestions. “Do it. Let me see. Take it all.” You kissed Tommy once more before turning your attention back to Joel.

You stroked his length over his boxers, your touch making his hard cock twitch and his hips jolt up into your hand. You stroked him lightly with your fingertips, then slipped his boxers down. You couldn’t help how your jaw dropped. Fuck it’s big. Easily seven inches long, and thick. Bigger than you’d guessed just from the times you’d noticed how it bulged in his slutty, tight pants and bounced against his shorts. Joel closed his eyes and moaned softly. “Take it out. Go ahead. Want you to feel it. See what you’re doing to me.” It was a sight to behold. His cock was beautiful. It was tan and had a vein on one side, the throbbing, weeping head a pretty blush under his foreskin. For Tommy’s sake, you tried to hide your shock and delight, but Joel smirked. You set back to work, taking his turgid member in hand, pumped his shaft with a loose grip and slowly bent to lick from the underside of the base to the top, where you gave him another small flick of your tongue. You sucked his head, tasting his precum, salty and mild. The more of him you worked into your mouth, the more you wanted, the further your mind wandered to the possibilities of having them both. Deep in your throat now, Joel was groaning softly and babbling encouragement. “Yes. Yes, just like that. Fuck. Fuck. Suck it. Doing so good…” he was getting closer, but you wouldn’t get to feel him spill into your throat.

You felt a hand fan over the curve of your ass and land a heavy swat on it, followed by a gentle rub Tommy slid his thick fingers down to find your panties wet and clinging to the swollen lips of your pussy. He dragged his fingers over the damp fabric a few times, letting the fabric tease your clit before pulling your panties down to lick firmly up your seam. The sound of his moan collided mid-air with Joel’s whine at the loss of your warm, wet mouth. Tommy knew exactly how to take you apart with his tongue, licking a slick ellipse around your clit, flattening his tongue to cover your vestibule, and teasing your entrance with one, then two thick fingers. Your pussy thrummed for him, and you were lost for a few moments in bliss before he buried his digits to the knuckles and set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out while sucking your clit, bringing your climax down around you like only he could. You were suddenly shy, realizing you’d just come while still holding your boyfriend’s brother’s cock in your hand.

Joel looked wrecked. He couldn’t get enough of you. He’d take whatever he could get. He didn’t let the hope of sinking his own cock into you and making you cry his name take him out of the moment unfolding before him. “Look so beautiful when you come.”

“Are you going to let him watch while I fuck you?” You considered for a moment and gave him your most devious smile. “Dirty man. I think you’d love it if he watched I bet you want to watch me fuck him too.” Tommy stilled for a moment and you worried you’d said too much, and you wanted to swallow your words, take it all back, but then a smile broke across his face. “Me first, though.” You knew Tommy was an exhibitionist, he loved how people looked when he kissed and squeezed you. This was on another level, though and you had never been more turned on. Two strong, tan arms wrapped around you, pulling you upright and snug against a rock hard cock. Fingers splayed over your pussy, spreading your slickness around, then smoothing it over his cock before positioning himself at your entrance and guiding himself in slowly. You sighed and dropped your head back against Tommy’s shoulder, your hand finding Joel’s bent knee to steady yourself as Tommy’s thrusts grew harder, doing your best to meet them. His arms were still around you, one banding across your stomach, the other using your shoulder for leverage. Your eyes focused when you felt pressure on your clit and saw Joel, left hand cradling his balls, right hand over your mound, thumb against your swollen clit. His eyes were locked to yours, lusty when he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked it before replacing it, his saliva giving him better slip to rub you with. “Taking him so good, baby. Look at you. You’re loving this, aren’t you? You like letting us share you? Going to let me fill you next?” All at once it was too much and you reached your climax, waves of pleasure washing over you and making you feel light and dreamy. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so cock drunk.” Tommy sounded awestruck and proud, he beamed at you and stroked your thighs as you came down from your high. “She looks like she needs more.” Joel’s voice was deeper and raspier than before. He looked at you now with open desire, so many more words unspoken and threatening to spill forth.

Tommy is still thrusting gently as you come down slowly from the high of your orgasm. “Come here, baby.” Joel is at once silky and firm, enticing and demanding. He pulls you toward him. “Can I fuck you next, sweet girl? I want to.” A pang of guilt fires in the back of your mind and as you lean into his pillowy lips, you turn and search Tommy’s expression for disapproval, but you only find hunger in his dark pupils as he nods, picking up his own pace, barreling into his own release. He’s really into this. With his blessing, and the feeling that he wants to push further, you let go of any remaining hesitation. You want to give him something to remember.

Locking into Joel’s soft, warm kiss, you situate yourself over him, holding yourself up with one elbow on the mattress and the other hand on Joel’s broad chest. He was unyielding beneath you. Tommy neared his finish and watched glossy-eyed as your ass is squeezed and your tongue is sucked by another man.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, letting us have you like this. You’re incredible. Keeping you all to himself all this time. Tan tacaño.” Joel groaned, his praise shot right back into your pussy and you clenched hard, giving Tommy just what he needed to come. He thrust harder, three, four, five, six times before stuttering his hips and spilling into your cunt. Joel pressed his length into the soft skin of your belly, and reached up to cup your breasts, pushing, pinching your nipples, rolling them under his flattened fingers, your nerve endings firing all over your body. When Tommy pulled away, he sat back on his heels to watch his cum dripping out of you, and lovingly pushed as much as he could back in.

You broke Joel’s kiss to press your lips to Tommy’s when he laid down back in his original spot, next to his brother. “Love you.” You sighed between kisses. Not to be forgotten, Joel began to slide his fingers along the folds of your sensitive pussy. You moaned into Tommy’s mouth. For the first time you sensed something of jealousy or maybe competitiveness and while you should probably be giving Tommy extra attention, making sure he knows he’s your one and only, you decide instead to stoke the flames. You let Joel push you back onto the bed, you’d head now at the bottom of the bed as he started a trail of open mouthed kisses from your mound, over your hip, across your stomach, to the underside of each breast, before stopping to suck your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking, gently palming the other before switching. He knew exactly how to work you into a needy mess for him, even after two orgasms. He dropped his hips between your thighs and brought his left knee up to wedge under your ass, opening you up for him. He pulled off your nipple with a pop. “Do you want me? Want this?” He said as he stroked his dock, rubbing it against your clit. “You can say no. I don’t think you want to, though. I think you’ve wanted this for a long time. I've seen you looking, sweetheart. Thought you were being sneaky. Dirty girl. One cock’s not enough, is it?” “Need it. Need you, Joel. Want you inside.” He huffed a cocky chuckle into your neck. “Knew it.” He notched at your entrance and inched in, letting you adjust to his size. You sighed at how full you felt already. “It’s a lot. I know. You can take it.” His reassurance didn’t help you relax as he pushed in deeper, working himself and Tommy’s cum further and further. You couldn’t stop the pathetic cries that left your lips as he set a slow but steady rhythm. Each thrust drove him deeper until he was fully seated.

Tommy was entranced,sitting up to watch from behind his brother. He had recorded the two off you before, and together you’d watch him fuck you senseless, but this, seeing you up close like this, hearing your moans and cries, the wet sounds of your willing pussy, seeing your cunt stretching and fluttering, his cum leaking out with every thrust, he was mesmerized and growing harder. He had thought of this before, wanting to share you, see you from the outside, he wondered if you’d agree, imagined it when he jerked off, never getting up the courage to ask you to give him this. Now that it was happening he wanted more. Wanted to see you desperate and cock hungry, a slut for him and whoever he’d let try you next. Of course Joel would be the one to make it happen. He was magnetic and disarming and everyone loved him. He had seen how you’d looked at his brother, how your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of his dick in his pants. He had seen Joel looking at you, too. Eye fucking you across rooms. Now here he is, ruining you right before his eyes. He wasn’t sure this could be topped.

Joel was warm and sweating, cheeks flushed under his scruffy, graying beard. His hair was a tousled mess, and you raked through it, wanting to see if he looked as devastated as you felt. His eyes were dark and sharp and his lips were parted as he panted. He dipped his head to nip along your neck. “Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you like this. So tight. So perfect. Beautiful. Look so good taking my cock.” You slipped your hands between your bodies and gathered wetness- either yours or Tommy’s, and rubbed your clit in tight circles, feeling your release approaching fast, egged on by the vulgar things Joel was saying. “Harder, Joel. Fuck. Harder.” He let go and slammed his hips against yours, making you cry his name again, white light blurring your vision, and you felt Tommy grab your hand in his, whispering in your ear “Come for us, sweetheart. Come on my brother’s cock for me.” That was it. Your hips jerked and your back arched, eyes squeezed shut. Joel didn’t falter until he found his own release, filling you as promised with thick ropes of hot cum. No sooner than he had pulled out and sat back to see his handiwork seep out, Tommy was above you, jerking off over your pussy, lacing his cum on top.

You’d collapsed breathlessly onto the top-small bed for countless minutes before Tommy got up to fetch a couple washcloths and Joel held you against his chest, kissing your hair. “Are you ok?” He sounded nervous that you might regret your trust already. His eyes were big and soft and concerned, and your heart ached a little for him. “I’m good.”

Once you were all cleaned up and nourished with cold, leftover pizza, you turned in for the night. Tommy fell asleep fast, but you turned on your side trying to get comfortable. You met Joel's gaze across the short distance between the two beds, and when he reached out, you took his hand, wondering what would happen in the daylight, what might happen while Tommy was away.

Chapter 2

[willieverseetheland]

de-stressing

Will Graham x fem!reader

Summary: You take Will on a much needed vacation to take his mind off of work (and redirect it on you)

WARNINGS: 18+, Established relationship, smut, kinda rushed so bear with me PLEASE

Things had been rough for Will these past few weeks. This recent case had his full attention. It had him stressed, working long hours, coming home late, waking up in the night soaked in sweat. Technically, the usual Will things, but worse. You felt like you barely had any time with him. Not to mention, you hadn’t been intimate in weeks.

Lying next to him at night you found yourself imagining his body pressed against yours, legs intertwined, each other’s sweat and moans filling the cool night air. Heat growing between your legs. You wanted to touch yourself but you didn’t want to wake him, considering how little sleep he’s been getting.

One morning while walking the dogs you had the perfect idea. Vacation. Something quite foreign to Will, but that’s exactly why it was perfect. He works himself too hard. What more could Jack possibly need him for you thought. Just a few days for him to unwind, and for you to get what you desperately needed.

You thought through your options. Somewhere warm, maybe South Carolina? No. Will wasn’t a beach person. Hotel in the city? Definitely not, too many people. Cabin in the mountains? Perfect. You looked online and rented a quaint little cabin in the mountains in West Virginia. About 2 hours from Wolf Trap. Nothing too far but away from work and people. You asked a friend to take care of the dogs while you were gone. You had everything figured out.

When Will got home that night you revealed your plan.

When he walked through the door you greeted him with a hug and kiss to the forehead.

“Welcome home, handsome” you smiled.

“You’re in a rather pleasant mood tonight” Will remarked.

“Well, I have some good news to tell you”

“And what is this news?” He questioned

“We are going on a little vacation, just me and you, in a cabin, just for a few days.”

“I’m assuming I don’t really have the option to say no”

“You would be correct. You need this, we need this hon” you placed your hand softly on his cheek

He sighed, “You’re right, I haven’t really been myself recently, things have been difficult”

“Great! We leave tomorrow night, I will pack our things while you’re at work”

The next morning after Will heads out, you begin packing all the essentials. Your sexiest underwear, along with a very skimpy bikini, you forgot to mention that there’s a hot tub.

You decide to drive there to let Will relax. You blast your favorite songs on the stereo, much to Will’s annoyance, but he loves you so he tolerates it.

The first thing you do when you arrive at the cabin is slip your bikini on and jump in the hot tub, Will soon follows after.

“Isn’t this just what you needed?” You question with a smile

“I want to lie and say it’s not, but god this is nice” Will sighs in relief.

"Well... I bet I could make it even better" You bite your lip slightly as you look up to meet his gaze

"Is that so?" Will asks with a sly grin

You move closer to Will, untying your bikini top as you do.

He reaches out to grab your hips as you swing your legs over his straddling his lap. When you finally slip off your top Will's eyes scan your body, focusing on your breasts. He leans in the kiss you; the kiss is deep, hungry. You can tell he's needed this just as much as you.

He moves from kissing your lips to your, jaw, neck, then shoulders. You moan in response causing Will to bite down slightly, immediately soothing the spot with a lick. He leaves hickeys across your chest, he loves marking you, nothing too visible to others but just enough for him to see, a reminder that you belong to him.

You feel him hardening beneath you. Needing friction, you begin to grind your hips down on his. This elicits a deep groan from Will. He tugs at your bottoms; you get the message and lift your hips allowing him to take them off. You return the favor, pulling his trunks down causing his cock to spring free. You've been thinking about this moment for days, you're already so wet and he barely had to touch you.

You lower your hips, lining his cock with your entrance. As you sink down you let out a ragged gasp, he stretches you perfectly, it's been so long you almost forgot how big he truly was. Will grips your hips tighter, tight enough to leave marks, you hope. After you adjust, you move faster, finding the perfect pace. Will bucks his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside you. One hand grips Will's shoulder while the other snakes up to tangle in his hair.

Every groan, whimper, and moan sends chills down your spine. You love when Will is vocal, and he's especially vocal tonight.

As he gets closer to the edge, his thrusts become increasingly rough. He moves one hand from your hips to rub circles on your clit.

You can feel your release quickly approaching as Will works you perfectly.

"Fuck Will, f-fuck!" you moan

Soon you fall over the edge, moaning loudly as Will continues to fuck you senseless.

He wraps his arms under yours, gripping your shoulders. He fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own. But the way your walls pulse around his cock, he's soon to follow.

"Y/n, I'm close" Will's breath is hot against your ear

"Inside, please" you beg

At that, Will comes undone. His head falls forward, coming to rest his forehead against yours, breath heavy and hot. The feeling of his release inside you gives you a feeling like no other. You feel so close to him in this moment. The two of you sit there in each other's arms, feeling the other's heartbeat.

"I've missed you" you say, so quiet it's almost a whisper

Will kisses your forehead and embraces you tighter

"I've missed you too"

Sorry it's rushed and mediocre! I was running out of ideas and wanted to get this out since I haven't published in a while, I promise I will do better next time lol, thanks for reading! :)

[0phiana0]

Luffy x reader! He's learning how to be a good boyfriend but it's a mess (a cute mess) that's it!

okay so this is actually the cutest fricking idea I love it. Sorry this is super duper short I have vacation tomorrow so just wanted to squeeze this in! :)

Living and Learning Luffy x Reader

The sun slowly drept down the sky as the smell of pastry’s lingered through the air. The cool breeze glided against my skin, pushing my hair ever so lightly as my body was pressed against the railing of our dock. This was the perfect afternoon for a great day. The crew had been docked at this island that, if I’d have to describe as the perfect vacation spot. My thoughts were interrupted by Sanji who had dreamingly called my name, beckoning me to the kitchen for dinner.

“(Y/N)-CHWAAANNN, dinners ready my love!” He swooned. I grumpily pulled my body off the railing, not exactly thrilled that my relaxation had been interrupted.

As much as I was annoyed at Sanji for interrupting my peace I couldn’t tolerate being rude to him or any of my crew mates. My mother had always raised me with an emphasis on manners, although ever since I met the crew my manners weren’t as apparent.

“Ahh..thank you Sanji..I must have lost track of time. My apologies.” My voice was naturally soft which had caused to him to swoon even more mumbling several compliments my way.

I slowly walked towards the door of the kitchen, still taking in the beauty of the view before entering. There sat all my friends already digging into the several pastries and food Sanji had prepared. I sat down between Luffy and Zoro. I was prepared to wait for my food as I had done so before. It was a daily occurrence.

Suddenly I felt a poke to my right shoulder. I looked to the direction of the sudden finger tugging at my shoulder. It was Zoro. His left hand held his plate barely off the table.

“I’m not that hungry tonight. Here.” He grumbled, clearly embarrassed and not exactly used to being so kind.

Before I could answer my boyfriend of two weeks reached over me and lightly pushed Zoro’s arm away. I noticed a slight glare being sent at Zoro.

“No (Y/N) eat some of my food! Here! Here!” I could barely understand him with all the food in his mouth. He moved my empty plate over and placed his own in between the two of us. I hadn’t even noticed that Luffy’s “little” shove sent Zoro to the ground.

“Luffy. He was just being nice. No need to shove him.” I stated calmly.

“Yeah! What the hells wrong with you idiot!” Zoro groaned, his arm pumped up in the air.

Despite both Zoro and I’s protests Luffy just kept digging in on his side of his plate, leaving around a quarter for me. Although I didn’t need to eat from his plate as Sanji gently placed down my own.

“Sorry my dear! Looks like your plate and Usopps got mixed up. I sincerely apo-”

Sanji is suddenly cut off by a kick to the shin. He lets out a harrowing yelp and his hands immediately go to his shin, holding his limb in pain. Everyone goes quiet suddenly, looking at the scene.

“Luffy..you bastard..my..leg..urg..” he muttered out curses.

I stood up abruptly, looking down to my captain and lover. I grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt and pulled him out of his chair. His face depicting confusion, not understanding what he had done wrong. I led him through the doors of the kitchen, hearing the crews voices grow louder as we both left the scene.

“Luffy..” I gave him a soft yet scolding look as pulled his straw hat over his face covering him.

“I..just..I dunno..when Zoro tried to give you his food for some reason I felt really angry. So angry I wanted to punch em. And when Sanji was talking to you it felt really wrong. You’re not his love. You’re my love. I done wanna share you..your mine.” He admitted.

I slowly gave a sigh as I walked closer towards him, pressing my body against his chest. “I know you weren’t trying to hurt them but..that’s not excuse. I understand that sometimes you get jealous but trust me I am yours. And no one else’s. You got it? So you don’t have to knock out the crews men.”

He lowers his head onto my shoulder, burying it softly. “(N/N)..?”

I softly stroked his back as his embrace gets tighter. “Yes?” My hands rub up and down his back comfortably. I can feel the shame and guilt exceeding from his body.

“Am I a bad boyfriend? Am I bad?” He asks, with a tone filled with sorrow.

“No. No you’re not. You’re learning and that’s perfectly okay. It’s okay to get angry but it’s not okay to act on it. Me and you are gonna work hard. Not just on ourselves but on us.” A small smile pressed against my lips.

My words must have been important to him, as he had taken his very trust hat off and plopped it onto my head. He leaned in and captured my lips in his. Not a possessive or angry kiss but a passionate yet soft one.

He smiled into our connected lips and his eyes drifted to mine. His hand pressed against my cheek as his smile widened.

“Okay, as much as I really do love this moment we should probably finish dinner. And you have some apologies to make.” He didn’t grumble but let out a toothy chuckle.

[rafesbunny]

brothers best friend- r.c 🎀

topper was your older brother by two years, he was well known round the island and you less well known. people knew you for being toppers younger sister and that was about it, you didn’t have anything extraordinary about you or what you did. you never got in trouble, had okay grades at school, didn’t wear short skimpy clothes or too modest clothes. everything about you was just okay. that wasn’t to say you didn’t have any friends or anything, you had a small circle of girls and would hang out with them at your house, or one of your boats, or at the beach. you didn’t go to parties unless it was midsummers, one of your dads business parties or a party your older brother would throw when you’re parents were away for the weekend. and it was one of those weekends.

your parents had decided to have a vacation for just the two of them for a few weeks, leaving you and topper home alone. he took this opportunity to throw a massive party. everyone was there, one because it was a party who was going to say no? and two because topper was popular on the island and people wanted to be in his group, his clique. topper had a lot of friends, his two best friends though was kelce and rafe. rafe was the leader. he was cocky, rude, and could get away with anything he wanted. you never really spoke to him despite him being your brothers best friend. if you saw him at your house you’d say hi maybe even ask how he’s doing but that was it. you were a shy girl, so talking to scary rafe took a lot of courage, you were sure he hated you, only responding with little grumbled out heys and never stopping to ask how you are. he doesn’t care for girls feelings even if he’s fucking them, but unbeknownst to you he did like you, you were sweet, polite, not too much.

it was nearing the end of the night, and the house was still packed of drunken people, there were girls crying, boys doing lines, and couples hooking up everywhere. topper always gave you a tough time about not getting involved in social events and hiding in your room, so to avoid this you invited some of your friends over. you also decided to get dressed up, put something on that isn’t a baggy shirt or a maxi skirt. you don’t know why you bought this, but last year you got this little black dress that showed off your body in all the right places, and complimented your hair, eyes, skin, and nails simultaneously. you and your girls were sitting outside, where it was quieter, on sun beds, all with a drink in their hands except you. you knew something was bound to go wrong and you knew you needed to be the responsible sibling who fixes it, even if you were the younger one.

inside the house, it was filled with people and the music was blaring, and rafe stumbled over to your brother, “yo man, gonna head off. see you tomorrow” but before he could walk away topper told him, “yeah not gonna let you drive rafe, you’re too fucked up” at every party rafe wouldnt drink much but he would deal and take lots of coke. he could always handle himself but it still scared topper to think something might happen to him, he would never explicitly say this to rafe as he would get called “gay” or something, but he was his best friend after all. rafe tried to protest, “it’s fine, i’ll walk-” but still topper would not let rafe leave, “look, go outside by the cars and i’ll get my sister to drive you”. while mumbling something about he can look after himself, rafe made his way to your car.

surprisingly, you had a nice night, not to say you were going to be going to more party’s any time soon, but it was nice seeing everyone have fun and talking with your friends. however, this good mood you were in quickly dissipated when you saw your brother walk towards you, knowing something had happened, “can i talk to you quickly” he asked after clearing his throat to get your attention making all your friends go silent, slightly intimidated by him. silently you got up and followed him to a quieter spot, “y’know i hate to ask you for favours-” he was quickly cut off by a raise of your eyebrow, challanging what he had just said, knowing he was no stranger to asking you to cover for him, “shut up. anyways i really don’t want to have to ask you this but can you please take rafe home?” you sighed, but thankful for staying sober tonight, you agreed, “yeah whatever, fine.” topper smiled and ruffled your hair endearingly, “thanks, be safe okay? call me if you need anything” although rafe was his best friend, topper knew how rafe could be towards girls especially when coked up.

a bit annoyed you had to leave the fun to babysit a coked up- nearly grown up- man, you dragged your feet over to your car where rafe leaned up against the drivers door, clearly not happy with your brothers request either. you said nothing as you walked closer to him, only giving him a little smile, and classic rafe didn’t smile back, but he didn’t move either. it wasn’t like he didn’t notice you, in fact he was staring right at you. maybe you were imagining it but you swear he was looking you up and down, you brushed it off unsure if your eyes were deceiving you. you both stood their awkwardly for a bit waiting for rafe to move so you could get in the car before saying, “rafe i need to get in the car”. perhaps it was the lighting, but was rafe blushing? “oh yeah…sure- sorry” he stumbled over his words and his feet making he way to the passengers side, letting his eyes linger on your figure a second too long that made you notice. “god, topper was right not letting you go home” you joked, getting into your seat and buckling up. rafe copied your actions but didn’t acknowledge your comment, he was annoyed at himself for getting to out of it to even be able to do a five minute walk down the road to his house. what kind of a man was he? “you look good tonight y/n/n” he mumbled, as if he was embarrassed to compliment you. you weren’t surprised someone made a comment on how you looked tonight, no one has ever seen you like this before and not to toot your own horn but you did look stunning. but the fact it was coming from the big bad wolf of kildare was slightly shocking. “thanks rafe, i never wear these kind of clothes, it’s weird, but i think i like it? i don’t know” you continued to ramble, completely blind to the way rafe wasnt listening to you but instead staring at the way your eyes has a sparkle in them and looking as if they brightened up your face despite it being pitch black, and the way you still had a big smile on as if being taken away from your friends to babysit a very capable man wasn’t a burden at all. he continued to ‘listen’ to you for the rest of short journey and didn’t realise when you were parked outside of his house. lightly chuckling at rafes lack of awareness you informed him, “we’re here rafe” and quickly he snapped out of trance and abruptly got out. but before making his way to the front door he circled to your window, knocking it with his knuckle, commanding you to roll it down. when you did what he wanted he said, “see you around, yeah kid?” and you went back to the girl too scared to talk around him, offering him a gentle nod as he walked away. “he was acting so weird, he must’ve been really high” you thought to yourself, pulling out his drive way. “fuck, what’s gotten into me” rafe thought while unlocking his front door. topper would kill him if he knew he was starting to harbour a crush on his little sister. what was he going to do?

[mrsensitive]

4 times everyone else caught on before the 1 time you and quinn finally did

a good old 4+1 ft. best friend beau & a couple other cameos, some mutual pining and also reader is a costume designer . kind of an elaboration of a lil blurb i wrote a while ago so if it seems familiar no it doesn't 😋

1

You’d never been more grateful for Friday to roll around. You’d had what felt like the longest week from hell and just wanted to take your mind off everything, so when your new neighbour turned best friend Beau texted you to meet him and a couple friends at the bar, the thought that you wouldn’t know half the people there wasn’t enough to dissuade you from joining.

When you arrive, you’re quick to spot the group - Beau hadn’t lied when he said it wasn’t just the team, but he might’ve stretched the truth when he said you already knew some of the guys. A quick once over is enough for you to realise the only other person you really know is Brock. Sure, you had heard of the others from Beau’s stories and the fact that you sometimes watched the games, but you were starting to wonder if you should’ve just gone home to your bottle of wine instead.

Beau is quick to welcome you though, flooding you with the names of everyone you’d yet to meet and pushing you into the seat he’d just vacated.

“Wait here, I’m getting the next round,” he beams at you, a good few drinks in already. “Brock come give me a hand, bud.”

You try to get your bearings a little, looking around trying to commit names to faces since the only two people you knew had left, and you realise mostly everyone is in their own conversations save for the guy on your right. You pause, staring at him trying to remember his name as he watches you struggle, clearly bemused.  

“It’s Quinn,” he offers after a moment or two. He’s laughing lightly and you relax in your seat a little. “Don’t sweat it.” 

You breathe out a smile, “Thanks. I was getting there, y’know.” You pause, taking a moment to get a better look at him. “Hughes, right? I’ve seen you play before. You’re a great skater.”

“Oh uh…thanks.” He shifts a little in his seat. “Beau’s talked about you a couple times actually. So it’s nice to meet you finally.”

You can’t help your eyebrows from shooting up, both of you are equally surprised and amused that you’re even aware of the other. You’re half expecting Quinn to elaborate, scanning his face for any hint that what Beau’s said about you was any level of incriminating, but somehow, you find yourself a bit distracted by the way his hair is curling over his forehead. 

Before either of you can say anything, Beau’s dropped a glass in front of you and inserted himself back in the conversation.

“So what was so terrible about work this week? What’s the drama this time?”  

You let out a sigh, remembering why you’d dragged yourself here in the first place. “Oh, nothing new. They just decided to reschedule all our fittings so we barely had the right costumes prepared - which is just an embarrassing look for me, you know, even if it literally wasn’t my fault. I was running all over the place trying to make it work - and then on top of that I find out they’ve put our costume truck about three states over from where the set is so I’ve got to hassle someone about that and-”

“Costumes?” Your rambling is cut off by Quinn who looks much more interested than Beau, who, to his credit, has heard some variation of this story just about every other week.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a costume designer,” you explain, “I’m working on a movie at the moment.” For some reason you feel rather embarrassed that you didn’t clarify this to him before and you’re hoping the dim lighting is hiding the way you’ve started blushing. 

“I’m going to take this as my cue to leave.” Beau says, already standing up to move across the table, “You tell Quinn the whole back story and I’ll come back when you’re done with that, okay?”

Beau, in fact, does not come back for the rest of the night but you’re so wrapped up in your conversation with Quinn that you don’t particularly notice anyway. Usually you hate talking about yourself, but the drinks have loosened you up and he seems so genuinely curious and intrigued about you. He asks how you met Beau, so you tell him the story of how his 7’s look a little too much like 1’s and you ended up getting so much of his mail that you had to go and confront him about it. You try to ask him about hockey but he seems rather adept at deflecting the conversation back to you every time. You can’t help but bask in the full attention he’s giving you and the more drinks you have, the more you find yourself quietly admiring his bone structure. You’re a little surprised to hear yourself laughing so much and how easily the conversation moves that you can’t quite remember how you ended up discussing how you both think roses are overrated. 

You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you catch Brock nudging Beau and nodding his head towards you across the table.

“You reckon?” Brock asks, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, easily. I’ve been watching them all night.”

2

You pick up Beau’s call almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up? Do you need something?” There’s a tinge of confusion in your voice.

“What? No, I just- I have an extra ticket to the game tonight and I was going to offer it to you if you weren’t being so snappy.” Beau teases.

“Oh,” you let out a chuckle, “Sorry, you just never call. I do happen to be free tonight though, if the offer’s still on the table...”

“Great, I’ll send you the ticket,” you can hear him smiling through the line. “Don’t drive, I’ll give you a lift if you wait a little after the game. Stick around and say hi to some of the other guys too.”

“Sure,” you reply, “I’ll see you later then. Maybe score or win or something? I dunno, make it worth my night?”

“Yeah ok,” you can hear him laughing now, “Will do, just for you. See you soon.”

And even if you were only joking, the team does deliver on your request. You hang by the exit as you wait for Beau, congratulating some of the other guys on the win as they start to trickle out. When Quinn catches sight of you, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and you can’t help the way you mirror it.

“Hey Quinner, congrats on the game,” you greet him, “Big win!” 

You’re mildly aware of the way your heart rate has picked up slightly since he stopped in front of you. You want to believe that it’s just because the handful of times you’ve seen him now have always been aided with a bit of liquid courage, even if you’re currently fixating on his slightly damp hair and the way his bag is slung over his shoulder. Quinn, however, is severely aware of the way his heart rate seemed to stop upon hearing the nickname leave your mouth.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, thanks. I didn’t realise you were going to be here?”

“Beau said he had an extra ticket last minute - enticed me with a ride home, so I’m just waiting for him now.” 

“Yeah, he should be done with the interviews soon - you know, three point night and all,” he laughs, glancing back at the doorway in search of a sign of his teammate.

“Coming from you, mister record breaker!”

Quinn whips his head back around to you, eyes wide as he starts to mumble something to try and downplay his night. He knows he’s blushing from the way he can feel his cheeks burning but he’s hoping it could be disguised as some sort of postgame flush.

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how off guard your comment seemed to catch him. “Surely you’re going out to celebrate?”

“Oh, I don’t know… we’ve got an early start tomorrow…” He rubs a hand at the back of his neck and your eyes flicker to his bicep briefly.

“Hmmm boring,” you tease, “All work and no play I guess.”

Something in your tone has him grinning now. “No rest for the wicked,” he quips.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you’ve had an audience for just about all of your conversation.

“Is this what he looks like when he’s trying to flirt?” Petey asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I guess. Or trying to, at least,” Brock answers, still eyeing the scene in front of him. “How long do we think til they do something about it?”

Beau’s appeared next to them at the door now too, smirking as he watches you and Quinn completely oblivious to everyone else.

“Wanna take bets?”

3

Quinn’s nervous. He’s already texted you to let you know he’s arrived but he’s expecting that you’ll have to turn him away last minute. He’s still in disbelief that he’s even here, despite the fact that you’d offered to have him visit you on set several times already, but he always thought it was just a throw away thing you would say to be nice. He only tells you this about the fourth time you’ve asked, the arrival of the post season working out with one of the quieter days of your schedule, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing in his face about it.

“Quinn. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it. Most of our conversations are about movies, so I just thought you might find it cool to see what it’s like,” you shrug. "I've watched you play games before so it feels kind of fair, right?’

As much as he protests that it’s different, you are kind of right, naturally. He thinks it is extremely cool that this is what you do for a living, and even cooler that you’d even considered to bring him along and show him a part of it. At least, cool is what he’s trying to convince himself he’s feeling about it all. 

When he sees how excited you look, running out to meet him, he once again can’t help the grin that weasels its way onto his face. He holds out the second coffee cup in his hand to you.

“Hey,” he greets, “I brought you a coffee. I stopped on my way here but I didn’t really know what you usually get or if you prefer, like, hot or iced? So I just got you what I get which is-”

You’re pleasantly surprised and amused, letting him ramble a little before you cut him off, thanking him and groaning when you take a sip. “God, thank you. I’ve already had one today but I truly needed this.”

He’s relieved to hear it, immediately relaxing. “Hectic day then?”

“Kind of, but like… A controlled hectic you know?” You pause, giving him a once over, realising he’s a little less jittery than a minute ago - and also that he looks good. You’ve only ever really seen him in very weak bar lighting, or after a hockey game - but definitely never before lunch. The sun looks good on him you think, and you’re rather charmed by the outfit he’s picked out for the occasion but you’re quick to snap yourself out of your thoughts.

“Let me show you around!”

You give him a tour of the set, proudly pointing out how you managed to convince them to move your trailer closer, talking him through your designs you have pinned up and showing him some of the final costumes.

Quinn’s already wide-eyed, kid in a candy store at all of this, staring and asking if he can touch things. He almost doesn’t believe you when you say he can watch them film a scene or two. He’s amazed by the whole set up of it all, the cameras, the monitors, all the people who seem to be constantly walking places very quickly with a lot of purpose. You lead him to your little costume camp in the corner, letting out a chuckle at how impressed he is. 

“Okay, look so I do kind of have to do my job and leave you alone here, but just stay where I tell you to, don’t get in the way and you’ll be fine.” You’ve barely finished your sentence when someone calls your name, so you’re pushing Quinn into an empty chair, wincing a smile at him and scurrying away.

You don’t really get a chance to check back in on him for a good hour or two, but Quinn’s barely noticed the amount of time that’s gone by. He’s shocked at the fact that he’s so close to actors who he actually recognises, but he’s even more in awe simply watching you in your element. He knew you’d downplayed your role to him but even so, he’s mesmerised at the way you’re handling everyone’s questions, how you’re there in between takes to fix collars and ties and things he hadn’t even noticed, at how almost out of nowhere, you suddenly seem to have this commanding yet gracious air of authority around you. He’s never seen or even pictured you like this but he’s completely caught up in it, not realising that one of the makeup artists has been watching his laser focus on you this whole time and sidled up to him.

He doesn’t quite hear her at first.

“I was just asking if you were the boyfriend?”

Quinn’s immediately blushing furiously and he’s only glad that you aren’t there to see it. “No- no, um. Just, uhh, just a friend is all.” 

His response appropriately earns a raised eyebrow.

“Ahhh, okay. Gotcha. Sorry, was just asking,” she pauses, entertained by his spluttering, “She’s rather amazing, you know? Really great at her job and just incredible in general.”

“Yeah, I, uh- I know,” he answers, glancing at you briefly. There’s something in this stranger’s tone that has him slightly confused, wondering why he’s being told this.

She only hums in response before walking away, leaving him to try not to overthink the interaction. He quickly pushes it aside when he sees you making your way over.

“Hey,” you grin, coming to a stop in front of him, “Been having fun?”

“Oh yeah,” he perks up immediately, “Heaps.”

“Great, because we’re starting to wrap up. I’ll take you back out to the entrance, save you all the boring stuff, y’know?”

Quinn’s surprised that it’s already heading into the late afternoon when you exit the studio. He turns to look at you, shoving his hands into his pockets and mustering up as much sincerity as he can.

“Thanks again for having me. It was, um, it was really cool watching you do your thing.”

“Well thanks for finally taking me up on my offer,” you counter, “and thanks for the coffee. I’m glad you had fun, really." You pause, cocking your head slightly, “We’ll go watch the movie together when it’s out.”

This, Quinn is sure, is a throw away line, at least he thinks. You’re not completely sure if you meant it either, but you know you only said it because you knew he would take it as one.

A couple days later you get a text out of the blue from Beau, and then Brock.

Beau: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU TOOK QUINN ON SET???? I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR HOW LONG AND YOU’VE NEVER ASKED ME?!!?!?! 

Brock: I like movies too :))

4

For whatever reason, Beau’s apartment had become the designated gathering spot. You’d already found yourself there a couple times already with the rest of the group, so you didn’t really question it when he ropes you into the games night he’s hosting, claiming they need another person to even out the numbers. It doesn’t occur to you to ask why he couldn’t have asked literally any of the other guys instead, so you don’t realise he has a whole catalogue of excuses ready to cover the fact that he’d been orchestrating a reason to get you and Quinn in the same room again.  

If anyone were to ask Quinn why he was late, he also had his own list of excuses ready to rattle off before he’d admit the truth. He’d spent an embarrassingly long amount of time switching between three shirts knowing that he’d see you - and so what if you’d done the same, as long as nobody else knew? 

Currently, you’re all way too many drinks in, lining up along the couch in preparation for the final tie breaking round of charades. Beau’s couch is definitely not big enough to fit six of you but you all squish in anyway, mostly too drunk or too determined to win to care. You should have expected this level of competition from a group of professional athletes; you've done a good job of keeping up all night, but you’re suddenly very acutely aware of how close Quinn is sitting next to you. You take another hard swallow from your drink before turning your focus onto Beau flailing his arms in front of you.

You manage to keep your cool through several rounds, but eventually you realise Quinn’s thigh has, at some point, ended up pressed firmly against yours. Immediately your whole leg is tingling and your face is flaming up, but Quinn doesn’t seem to show any signs of pulling away, or simply even realising. You blink, trying to refocus, but the only thing your brain seems capable of processing at the moment is the feeling of Quinn’s leg against yours through your jeans. If it weren’t for Beau’s overly dramatic reaction, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed that your team had already lost. 

You move to lean back against the couch - which was a mistake, considering now your shoulders are brushing too, and someone might as well have set your entire body on fire. Your head is starting to spin - must just be the shots catching up, you try to convince yourself - and you’ve drawn your lips into a thin line in an effort not to combust. 

Brock lets out a laugh, clocking your expression. “Alright, no need to be such a sore loser, princess.”

You can feel Quinn turning to look at you, even if you’re desperately avoiding his eye contact. Beau is looking at you now too, eyes flickering over the way you and Quinn are pressed into each other’s sides. He grins, gears already turning in his head.

You hope your laugh sounds convincing. “Yeah, didn’t realise I’d get so into it, huh?”

“We’ll just have to have a rematch another time,” Beau reassures you, well aware losing wasn’t the reason why you looked so distressed. He fakes a look at the clock as you stand up from the couch, having decided you wouldn’t have survived much longer if you didn’t move.

“Well I guess it’s getting a bit late. I think we’re all pretty far gone at this point so everyone’s welcome to crash for the night if you want," Beau offers.

“Dude,” Quinn pipes up, “There’s no way you have enough space for all of us.”

“Well, lucky a certain someone just so happens to live not so far away!” Beau is already shepherding the two of you out of his apartment, still wearing the biggest grin on his face.

Before you can even begin to protest, you’ve already found yourself standing next to Quinn in the hallway. A beat passes, the two of you staring at the shut door incredulously before you finally catch Quinn’s eye, both unable to help the fit of giggles that escapes when you catch each other’s expressions. 

In hindsight, you think this is the exact moment where you lose the ability to deny to yourself that you see him as just one of Beau’s friends. His eyes are a little glazed over from the alcohol, and his lips are flushed the prettiest pink to match his cheeks which are pulled into the widest smile you’ve seen him wear to date, and for the first time you notice exactly just how full his eyelashes are.

“I guess I do have a free couch,” you breathe out once you’ve both calmed down. 

“No it’s fine really, I can just get an uber home, don’t worry about it,” Quinn argues, the slight awkwardness of the situation finally hitting him.

“Quinn, don’t be ridiculous. Your car’s still here, isn’t it? I literally live down the hallway,” you pause, “... like Beau said.”

He swallows, blinking at you for a good while. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure then.” 

He waits for you to tell him that you’ve changed your mind, that actually the boyfriend you’ve never mentioned before wouldn’t like it if he stayed, or anything along those lines - something that would make the whole thing feel a little more believable, but instead, he just finds you looking at him. He doesn’t think he can handle that much longer without buckling at the knees, the way your eyes are searching his face, so he turns and starts walking down the hallway. He goes to ask what number your apartment is when he suddenly feels your soft hand slip into his.

You don’t know what it is. Maybe how nervous he suddenly seemed, maybe the way his hair looked perfectly dishevelled, or maybe in your intoxicated state you’d just finally decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I’m back this way, idiot,” you laugh at him before tugging him down the other way to your door. 

Quinn is sure that his heart is thumping so loudly that you can hear it echoing through the silent hallway, or that you can somehow feel it where your fingers are laced through his but you’re being nice and saving him the embarrassment by not saying anything about it. He’s also hyper aware of how you didn’t drop his hand until you were both inside, even when you were rummaging in your pockets for your keys.

He glances around your apartment, following suit as he watches you kick off your sneakers. He’s overtly aware of the quietness compared to the chaos of just earlier, and the overwhelming sense of domesticity as he trails behind you into your home. 

You watch him as he looks around, trying to find something to do in order to not get distracted staring at his nose. “Want some water?”

“Yeah actually, thanks,” he feels like he’s whispering, like if he speaks any louder you might realise that he is, actually, in fact, standing in your apartment and decide to kick him out. 

He watches you reach on your toes to grab an extra glass from the cabinet and he finds himself endeared by it all - the way your shoes were lined up in the hallway, the sweater left draped over the couch, the lone mug left on your kitchen counter by your coffee machine.

He gestures at what he’s guessing is an open script left on the table next to an array of pens. “New project?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done reading through it,” you answer, “I won't be working on it for several months still, but I haven’t completely decided yet.”

“Is it shooting here as well?”

“Only bits of it. Looks like it’ll be mostly in LA though. And a couple other locations but it’ll be fun,” you shrug, handing him the glass.

“So you’re gonna do it?” 

“Yeah, I think so. Script’s pretty good so far, and it’s an exciting team. Kind of like why not, you know?”

Quinn only manages to mutter out some sort of agreement. He’s surprised by his own disappointment at the idea that you could be moving out to LA, when in the grand scheme of things he’s only known you for about half a year. Thankfully, you interrupt him before he can think about it much more.

“Anyway, I’ll go get some blankets for you. Bathroom’s down that way, there’s extra toothbrushes in the first drawer.”

When he’s back, he almost crumples at the sight of you in your pjs setting up the couch for him. He notices you’ve refilled his glass before you turn around and shove a pile of clothes into his hands.

“Sweats for you, they should fit, I think,” you crinkle your nose. “My room’s down that way, just let me know if you need anything.”

He only manages to get out a small thanks in response. He’s staring at you, he knows that, but he can’t help how soft you look in the dim lighting.

You tilt your head, giving him a small smile. “Night, Quinn.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” he mumbles.

He makes a mental note to both punch Beau and then thank him in the morning.

+ 1

Nothing ever happened after that seemingly eventful night. It’s now well into the next season and you’re thinking that this is just what the dynamic of yours and Quinn’s friendship is like. You’ve gone back to trying to convince yourself that it’s normal - like you also think Beau’s good looking, right? You had a bit of a crush on him too when you first met him, even if that came and went awfully swiftly and you don’t get anything even close to the same kind of head spinning giddiness when he talks to you. Quinn thinks he’s been less subtle about it all, and you think you’ve been dropping hints but apparently your efforts have only been evident to everyone else but each other.

You know that the team has a gala coming up soon. Beau’s mentioned it to you a couple times in his attempt to gauge how you would feel if he forced Quinn to take you as his date. When he tells Quinn his master plan to finally get the two of you together, Quinn almost chokes on his own spit.

“Ask her as my date?! You’re kidding right?” he practically screeches.

“No.”

Quinn stammers, trying to formulate some kind of reply. “I don’t- We’re not- … I’m not doing that.”

Beau groans. “You guys are both such idiots, I’m sick of it. It’s so obvious that you like her and I don’t know how you can’t see that she’s head over heels for you too!”

Quinn only stares at him in response.

“Why won’t you just ask her? The world isn’t going to implode.”

There’s a good minute of silence, the two of them staring at each other waiting for someone to break. Quinn finally sighs, taking a seat on the couch.

“Isn’t she leaving for LA soon?”

“Are you being serious right now? Please tell me you’re not actually this stupid.”

Quinn blinks. “I don’t know. Vancouver and LA are pretty far apart.”

Beau is just about ready to physically knock some sense into him.

“You’re not even in Vancouver half the time anyway. Plus she’s not moving away forever. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

When Quinn doesn’t say anything in response, Beau doubles down.

“If you don’t ask her, I will for you. I’m not lying but you can test that out if you’d like.”

Beau doesn’t believe that Quinn will do anything, but he doesn’t give him much time to prove him wrong anyway. He’s calling you that evening.

“What are you doing Saturday night in two weeks time?”

“What? Nothing, I don’t think.”

“Okay, great. You’re coming to the gala as Quinn’s date then.”

“I’m what?!”

“You heard me.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you home right now?”

“Ye-”

You hang up on him before he can finish the syllable and you’re storming down the hallway until you’re banging on his door. He looks rather calm when he lets you in, but you don’t miss the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You point an accusing finger at him. “Explain it to me again. You want me to do what now?”

Beau rolls his eyes. “You’re free. Quinn’s free. Why not? It’s painfully obvious that you have this massive crush on him.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “No I don’t. And you’re asking me instead of him because?”

“Because he’s being an idiot, like he has been for almost an entire year now.” Beau looks at you and he can tell you could be convinced. “Just say yes. I’ll be there, the other guys will be there, there’ll be free food and drinks. Plus you’ll get to dress up! You’re always telling me you want to have an excuse to dress up yourself instead of other people!”

You can’t deny his last point. Literally just the other week, you’d sent him a link of this drop dead gorgeous dress you’d found whilst sourcing for your next project and complained to him about how you wanted to get it for yourself but had nowhere to wear it to.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. Just say you’ll come as his date. That’s it.”

You pause. Beau finds himself in his second stalemate of the day, but he knows you’re going to give in more easily. He listens to the tick of the clock in his living room, patiently waiting for you to cave.

“Fine.”

You don’t give him a chance to properly react before you’ve flung open his door, marched back to your own apartment and screamed into your pillow about what you’ve said yes to.

Beau should’ve known you were going to be insufferable leading up to the actual night. You spend the entirety of the next week pestering him about what the dress code is, how you have nothing to wear, what to expect, who else is going to be there. He gives you the same answers every time you ask and he promises to go dress shopping with you on Thursday. You’re only the slightest bit more relieved at this, but as soon as you agree, Beau’s texting Quinn that he has about a week to deliver.

Quinn had called you as soon as he saw Beau’s message, apologising and saying that he wished Beau had given him a little more warning so he could have asked you himself (he knows he wouldn’t have) and telling you that you don’t have to go if you didn’t want to. You were barely done freaking out about it yourself, but the way he sounded so completely flustered about it all through the phone was somewhat reassuring. 

When you make your way up the stairs to your apartment on Wednesday evening, you find yourself actually excited to go pick out a dress the next day. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t pulled together some inspiration images, but in your defence, you were just good at your job. Your steps falter a little when you notice a package at your door, but as you get closer, you notice there’s a post-it note over it. 

Been a minute since our mail got confused again :)

– Beau

You’re confused because you don’t remember ordering anything, but it’s definitely been addressed to you. You head inside to open it, brows furrowing when you start to recognise the fabric. Needless to say, your jaw is definitely on the floor when you pull out the same dress that you had sent Beau not too long ago. You’re scrambling to grab your phone to yell at him when you remember they’re currently playing a game at the moment, so you settle for a borderline blasphemous string of texts instead.

Hours later, when you’re still reeling, you get one single message in response.

Beau: Wasn’t me. Was all huggy :)

It feels like the last days left until the gala had gone all too quick yet also taken way too long. You felt like you’d been pulling your hair out about it nonstop, and it didn’t help that the guys had gone away on a roadie in between. 

You’d started getting ready way too early. You couldn’t do up the clasp of your necklace since you weren’t used to having your nails done, leaving you too much time to start wondering if you’d maybe gone a little overboard with it all. You’d been pacing around your apartment for the past half hour trying to occupy your hands with something else instead, waiting for a more appropriate time to get changed. You think you must look like a deranged housewife, washing your dishes and folding your laundry with a full face of makeup and maybe too much diligence.

You’re so caught up in distracting yourself that the buzzer ringing makes you jump. 

“Hey, come on up. I’ll unlock the door, I’ve just got to get changed,” you say over the intercom. 

You run back to your room to pull on the dress you’d been fawning over for weeks, still not entirely sure how either Quinn or Beau had managed to work out the right size for you. You hear the door being opened and Quinn calling out your name just as you’re spraying your perfume. 

“In my room!” You yell back, “One sec!”

When he rounds the corner and lays eyes on you, Quinn’s certain he’s turned completely into putty. He’s never seen you so dressed up and you look so breathtakingly stunning that he almost drops the bouquet in his hands.

You’re equally breathless when you turn around to face him. You didn’t realise that he’d gotten a tie to match, and you wouldn’t know that he’d dragged Petey to help him pick a new suit in an attempt to impress you. You’re both staring at each other for what feels like forever before either of you can manage a word.

“Um, hi,” he breathes, barely audible, “You look- you look really beautiful.”

You can’t hide the blush that’s creeping up your neck, but you don’t try to anyway considering his cheeks have gone a rosy shade to match. 

“Thanks, Quinn. You look really good too.” You don’t notice how he flushes even deeper because you’ve finally noticed the flowers he’s holding, and even more so, how there’s not a single rose in the bunch. “Are those…?”

Quinn suddenly feels embarrassed about the fact he got you flowers. “Yeah, I um, I got- they’re for you.” He feels like a school boy all over again, mentally kicking himself for not being able to get a proper sentence out. He looks down at the stems, rubbing at his stubble. “Did I overdo it?”

You laugh, you’d been fidgeting with your nails the entire time.

“No, I think it’s really sweet.” You take the flowers from him, laying them down on your vanity when you remember your necklace.

“Oh, can you help me with this? I can’t seem to get the clasp.” You hand him the chain and turn, moving your hair out of the way. 

You can smell the waft of his cologne and feel his focus on the back of your neck, suddenly incredibly aware of how close you’re standing. Your mouth has dried, you're pretty sure your ears are ringing and you think you’re fully frozen in your spot.

“There,” Quinn mumbles, barely even able to get the word past the lump in his throat. He’s still thinking about how unreal you look and fighting the overwhelming urge to spin you around and kiss you right then and there. 

You’re both snapped out of the moment when his phone starts ringing. It’s Beau, asking what time you guys are going to arrive.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. See you soon, dude.” Quinn answers, turning his attention back to you. “Ready to go?”

On the way there, you’ve somehow recomposed yourself to manage a somewhat normal conversation. You’re not sure exactly what it is that sent your nerves into haywire in the first place. The fact that you’re so done up, that you’re technically his date, or the fact that he seems just as antsy as you. He tells you he’s a little nervous about the speech he has to make, so you squeeze his hand in reassurance and try to reel your nerves in for both of you.

It’s a lot easier when you get there and see everyone else. You’re reminded that they’re your friends and that this is just another time you get to hang out, even if it’s a lot more fancy and official than what you’re used to. But when you finally go to take your seats after doing your initial rounds of mingling, you still manage to somehow knock your fork to the floor. You bend over to pick it up and you don’t realise Quinn’s covered the edge of the table with his hand until you bump your head into it. Before you can even say anything or just thank him for it, he’s offering to swap forks with you.

“Oh, don’t even worry about it,” you laugh a little breathlessly, “Five second rule, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, but he’s already replaced the fork next to your plate with his anyway. 

Brock and Petey have watched the whole exchange and share knowing smirks from across the table.

Everything else seems to go smoothly. Maybe it’s the soft touches on his arm or on your back, the blushing smiles and longing glances across the room, but something about tonight feels like tomorrow you won’t be able to pretend nothing happened.

Quinn’s speech goes well, and now everyone is up and moving around again. You hang back and let the long line of teammates and attendees go to congratulate him first.

Beau approaches Quinn, interrupting his train of thought.

“Now that the business part is done, you gonna finally make a move or what?”

Quinn’s eyes almost pop out of his head at the idea of this and also the volume at which Beau is speaking.

“Shut up,” he hisses, “She’ll hear you!”

“Doesn’t matter - she’s going to notice anyway with how hard you’ve been staring all night!”

“No I haven’t,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah ok, sure buddy. Just- no time like the present!” Beau claps him on the back and leaves Quinn to shift his gaze back to you. He’s starting to get lost in how at ease you look, talking to some of the other wives, when he realises Beau is right and you’ve caught him staring.

You make your way to him, prodding him gently in the shoulder.

“Told ya you didn’t need to be so worried.”

He’s blushing again. He can’t seem to get a handle on the effect you have on him.

“Yeah, it went alright, I guess. Made it out alive.”

“Well I, for one, think you spoke really well.” There’s a slight teasing in your voice, but you hope he can tell you mean it.

Quinn finds himself lost for words in front of you for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He’s scanning your face and tries not to think too hard before he opens his mouth again.

“Can I kiss y-”

“Please.”

His hands are quick to find your waist and pull you closer as your hands find a place against his chest. The kiss is quick and rushed and almost all teeth from how big you’re both smiling, but you don’t mind it. You feel like the ground’s been pulled out from under you in one fell swoop and you’re free falling but somehow it feels like exactly what you needed.

When you pull away, Quinn’s wearing the goofiest lopsided grin you’ve ever seen and you can only imagine that you look the same.

“I, uh-”

“You’ve got lip gloss on you.”

You’re both giggling as he swipes over his lips with his thumb. 

You’re so lost in him that you almost don’t register all the hollering and clapping from your table. Usually you would hate the idea of so many eyes watching you, but it all feels like such a long time coming that you can’t seem to be even remotely embarrassed about any of it.

[frenziedfireworks]

Dating!

Dating the HL Boys!

(Sebastian, Ominis, Garreth)

masterlist

Sebastian :

I feel like he definitely has insomnia. He is not able to go to sleep easily and hates it. Help the poor guy to calm down & give him cuddles. If you pamper him he will go to sleep easier. 

He’s very thoughtful and remembers important dates and anything you look at. You kept staring at that book in the window? It’s on your desk. Your coat ripped? You suddenly have a new one. He doesn’t care how hard he has to work to spoil you - he will do it.

He’s very protective of you towards anyone - even Ominis. He knows you can handle yourself but he just wants to make sure you feel safe and nobody is pushing your buttons. That’s his job after all <3

You had turned in bed adjusting your position when a light woke you up. You begrudgingly opened your eyes, adjusting to the shine that was right next to you. Unsurprisingly it was your dearest boyfriend using lumos in an attempt to read instead of sleeping.

“Seb?” Your voice croaked and the freckled man looked down.

“Hey baby. Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” His hand danced over your cheek and a soft kiss was placed upon your forehead. 

“You should be asleep.” 

“I tried. Thought I’d read until I got tired..” You only sighed and pushed yourself up. 

“What time is it?” You looked for the clock and noticed how late, or more so early it was.

“Sebastian, it's 4 am. Merlin’s beard.. I’ll be back.”

“Darling it’s okay-“

“Be quiet and sit.” You grunted and made your way to the kitchen. You were quick to make him a warm cup of tea and flutter back to the safety of your bed. Sebastian’s face was red and he gave you a thankful smile as he took a sip.

“Thank you my love. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He leaned in to give you a quick smooch as you laid back down.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. Finish that and cuddle with me, you oaf.”

Ominis :

Once you truly get to know Ominis he is CHATTY. He doesn’t stop talking and asks you the most random questions. He would be the type of boyfriend to ask you if you would love him as a worm.

He makes very cute dates to take you on. Picnics and sitting outdoors kind of stuff! If you don’t like that then he will of course take that into consideration.. He wouldn’t mind sitting in a secluded spot just enjoying time together.

Ominis doesn’t show it as much but I feel like he gets jealous. He will admit it to you if you question him. He gets in fits of not feeling adequate for you. Just tell him you love him and it’s all fine!!

“Y/N?” Ominis’ voice pierced through the silence of your bedroom. You turned in the sheets to face him, hand coming to rest on his chest. 

“Yes?” You questioned. He had a small grin on his face that you could make out from the dim moonlight. You knew it would be another one of your silly nights.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You automatically cackled at the question, expecting anything other than that.

“You’re just a worm?”

“Yes. Just a worm.” 

Ominis snorted again at the ridiculous question and you rolled your eyes. You pressed a kiss against his shoulder and hummed.

“I suppose. I think I’d take you everywhere in a nice cage. We would eat breakfast together while you squirmed in your dirt and you would enjoy your life. Then one day I would take us on vacation to the beach. Maybe even do some fishing..” You held back a giant laugh as he gasped.

“And I am not the bait surely?!” The boy's arm smacked against you and you couldn’t hold your breath. 

“I am not the bait, right?!” He repeated the question and you felt lightheaded. 

“Uhuh sure my love..” You mustered up a sarcastic response and watched as he bobbed his head in annoyance.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You’re the one who asked!”

Garreth :

He ALWAYS brings you homemade stuff. Some of it is mildly concerning but he just shrugs it off. After all it is “made with love” as he puts it.

Garreth always brings you on little adventures to collect supplies or sits with you on your hobbies. He thinks it’s the best to just be in your presence. 

He’s very attentive and handsy. Physical touch is definitely a high contender for his love language. I feel like it makes him more calm to always have a hand on you. You’re like a little safety blanket <3

I feel like Garreth has ADHD.. If he gets busy with potions he won��t notice ten hours have passed until you forcibly pull him away. You constantly have to remind him to eat or take a break.

“Garreth?” Your voice filtered into the empty potions room where your boyfriend stood hard at work. You had not seen him all day and was starting to worry that one of his potions had finally taken him out. Walking up behind the boy you let out a cough and rubbed your hand up his back.

“Oh!” 

Garreth jumped and turned to face you. His eyes were bloodshot and his grin was wavering on a questionable line of sanity.

“Have you slept? How long have you been down here?” You brought your hand to his forcing him to drop the feathers onto the counter. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder and he let out a deep sigh.

“It hasn’t been that long has it?”

“Baby it’s Saturday morning.” You whispered as your fingers skimmed through his ginger locks. He only grunted in response and dug deeper into your shoulder.

“Well I need to finish-“ The boy started but you cut him off quickly.

“You can finish this another day. Your brewing pot is not going anywhere. We are going to put you to bed. Understand?” Garreth only snorted and moved so you could lead the way.

“You’re cute when you’re bossy.”

“Don’t even start Weasley.”

[painted-bees]

[cw: explicit content🔞]

March 18th 2009

  The top floor balcony of the humble recording studio overlooked a small backroad. It was just high enough to grant a view over the roofs of surrounding buildings, out towards the mountains, across the harbour. But thick cloud cover and the darkness of night collaborated to hide the Rockies from sight this evening. Instead, Raf’s gaze washed impassively over the array of city lights that extended across the harbour and disappeared into the distant North Vancouver neighbourhoods. He took a sip from the bottle of water in his hand and invited the evening chill to sober him up. 

  Behind him, the din of party revelry outcompeted the exterior ambiance of late-night city traffic. Hi-Note wasn’t usually so lively this close to midnight. Its business hours only ran until 8pm at the latest, and, save for the evenings when he used to jam here with Magritte, Raf usually had the place vacated and locked up within that same hour.

  Today was a special occasion. It was the junior technician, Herbie’s, birthday. Since he had little where else to celebrate, Nels had hosted a surprise party for him in the studio. It wasn’t the first birthday Herb had celebrated in Vancouver, but it was the first birthday following a rather heartbreaking split with his once-steady girlfriend. The usually jovial lad had been, understandably, a lot more quietly introspective over the past few months. Once Nels had gained the knowledge that Herb had no big, exciting birthday plans this year, the rest was inevitable.

  Raf had driven to work, and wholly planned to drive back home. Towards that end, he enjoyed his drink and smoke early, cut himself off early, and was now finally feeling clear minded enough to collect Margie and call it a night. Intending to do exactly that, Raf turned towards the sliding door of the balcony, downing his last gulp of water. And–discovered that Margie had found him first.

  A smug grin and a playful wave preceded her sliding open the door. She stepped out onto the balcony, pulling the door shut behind her. “Ey, nice hiding spot, Ephrem!” She rubbed her hands together, watching her breath hang in the chilly air as she approached him. 

  Raf relented to leaning back against the balcony railing as Magritte dropped her elbows on it, beside him. “I was just about to go in and get you.”

  She sighed and looked out across the harbour. “Past your bedtime?”

  “Nah, the party’s winding down anyway. But I kinda wish I found you out here sooner. This view is really nice.” She sighed wistfully. “Glittery.”

  He provided a self-depreciating smirk. You could set your watch to Raf’s night time routine and, typically, if he wasn’t in bed between eleven and eleven-thirty, he’d be grumpy if there wasn’t a good reason for it. A birthday, he supposed, was as good a reason as any.

  “If you’re not ready to head home yet…” He allowed his easy capitulation to hang unspoken in the space between them.

  Raf made no motion to herd her back inside. Instead, he placed his empty water bottle down by his feet and then settled further against the railing. He wasn’t worried about waiting much longer out here. Magritte had a low tolerance for cold, and the chilly March breeze would chase her back inside within a reasonable amount of time. Still, he didn’t want to give her the sense he was in any kind of hurry. Genuinely, he wasn’t. 

  “Yanno, this is the weirdest place I’ve ever worked at.” Magritte furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Just a bunch of guys being pals, but also…not weird about it. And stuff gets done. And I–” She turned to look at him, “I help with that. Like, actually!” She turned her back to the landscape, electing to mirror Raf’s posture. “Okay, this sounds stupid but like…I’ve never felt good at a job before. Not just that, I’ve been proactive? I get to do stuff before someone has to ask me to do it? And, I do it properly? Wild. Nels even likes me!” She beamed up at him. “He called me ‘Supergirl’ today after hearing the vocal mixing I did for Cybele Fray.”

  “Yeah…” Magritte pressed her palms against her cheeks and smooshed her face in a pensive gesture that wasn’t intended to look as silly as it did. “I’m worried I’ll lose interest and pitter out eventually. But until then, I’ll just enjoy feeling useful. And smart.”

  Raf favoured her with a smirk, and wrinkled his brow in substitute for a shewed shrug. “Nels loved you the minute he saw you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the first job you feel competent at is the first job that has you working with audio and such. You’re doing what you like doing.”

And, Raf thought, employed by someone who actually knows how to manage you.

It’s true that Hi-Note made excellent use of Margie’s savant-like skills, but not all of it had been absolutely enthralling to her. A bored Margie was difficult to keep on task, but somehow Nels had managed to navigate her ‘on again, off again’ pattern of productivity. Largely, Raf noticed that Nels cycled her off monotonous tasks before they had a chance to bore her–no matter their state of completion. And then, he’d put her back on it as soon as she looked ready to smooth her brain on something simple and repetitive again. Raf had taken that observation–and applied it at home. Very quickly, he helped her build a habit of taking just one dish out of the sink, washing it, and putting it away, any time she found herself in the kitchen during a moment of aimless roving. Not always, mind you…but often enough. One thing at a time, and the order of it doesn’t matter.

  Raf considered whether or not he ought to affirm to her for the umpteenth time that she was one of the most brilliant people he had ever met. But the window of opportunity closed when she continued talking. 

  “Life’s been really…easy this year, so far. Like, the easiest it’s ever been. I like it. A lot.” She turned her eyes up to him with an unspoken question that he couldn’t quite read.

  “Same.”

  “Really?” Her questioning gaze pressed further.

  Raf measured her for a moment.

  Yet–there she was.

  Until she showed up, he had been living alone in a two bedroom, downtown apartment; a feat of luxury by Vancouver standards. He’d have described it as a relatively ‘small’ space; each room was big enough to fit a bed, a dresser, a night stand, and little else. But, two bedrooms were still two bedrooms. Near Yaletown, no less. Truth be told, the income he was making at Hi-Note would not have been enough to afford it, if he had to rely on it alone. But he had been rather uncompromising about having a spare room for guests–until Magritte moved in. Now, that room was hers; guests be damned.

  It was a bit strange to think about. Generally, Raf preferred being alone. He found that living with anyone else always came with more stress than it was worth; whether it was with a steady romantic partner, or a family member. He was fairly certain that he’d never lend himself to the horrors of rooming with a friend who barely knew him. The very idea had felt like a violation against the sanctity of his home–the one place he could withdraw and hide into when he needed the peace and quiet to sort himself out. He didn’t trust family nor lovers to respect his space when he most needed it. A roommate as impersonal as a friend would have been much worse, and for absolutely nothing.

  He had first invited Magritte to crash at his place on an impulse. Though he feared the precedent it may have set, she didn’t overstay her welcome. In fact, she had barely stayed at all. That hadn’t surprised him nearly as much as his resulting disappointment had. And so, he invited her again. And again. And again. And each time, he confirmed for himself that she was simply…good company. He slept easier on the nights she occupied the guest room. His mood each morning felt buoyed by her presence, even before she emerged to greet him in the kitchen. He just liked talking to her. The baseline of her mood seemed to always be several levels more pleasant than his own, and the way she carried her joviality made it infectious, not grating. Even on the mornings when she had shuffled into the kitchen muttering a preemptive apology for her irritable mood, she had been sweet about it.

  Magritte did something to his brain chemicals that medications just couldn’t compete with. But what that was exactly, he had no god damn clue. The only other thing he could think of that would come close to eliciting the same kind of response from him–might have been something like…having a box of fluffy kittens gently dumped on him. Maybe that’s what she was to him; a box of sweet, soft, wobbly kittens–personified. It would certainly explain the cuteness-aggression she often provoked; that overwhelming desire to just scrunch her up into a little ball and tear her apart with his teeth…affectionately.

  Oftenly, so did she.

  Now she had her own key to the apartment and, over the winter, the guest bedroom had slowly been transformed into her disorderly, war-torn little nest. A true nightmare to behold for all the clutter and chaos; clothing haphazardly strewn across every inch of floor, and a plethora of dirty cups and plates on–and around–the nightstand by her bed.

  Strangely, it didn’t bother him. She had warned him of her negligent cleanliness habits well in advance. In fact, she had initially cited it as her reason for not wanting to overstay at his place. In response, he had given her the room to do with as she pleased–on the sole condition that she kept the door closed and ensured her mess never breached containment. If he didn’t like it, he simply didn’t have to look at it. Aside from leaving dishes in the sink (and occasionally on the living room coffee table), Magritte had been pretty good at maintaining her end of the bargain. By and large, her messes stayed confined to her room.

  When it came to the matter of Raf coveting his peace and quiet, Magritte had proven to be no trouble at all. That was remarkable, considering how loud she was in almost everything she did. But, most evenings after work, she straight up ignored him. She spent her time holed up in her bedroom, playing music and browsing the internet. Raf had once expressed appreciation for Margie’s unobtrusiveness–and was met with a mixture of disbelief and tremendous relief from her. Apparently, most others hadn’t found the same kind of comfort he did in a roommate that happily kept to themselves. She had grown accustomed to worrying that her ‘shut-in’ behaviour was excessive and inconsiderate, because if someone didn’t come and pull her away from her hobbies, she was liable to get lost in her solitary activities for hours. For Raf’s part, he was just content knowing she was there if he felt in need of company, but rarely did he feel compelled to call upon her for it. He liked her little routine of being present in the mornings, joining him for lunch, winding down with him for an hour after work, and then emerging once more for dinner before they both disappeared to their respective corners of the apartment for the rest of the evening–until bedtime.

  While Magritte spent the days in her room, she developed a habit of spending most of her nights in his bed. He accepted the blame for that. Generally preferring to sleep in cooler temperatures, he neglected to consider that his love for a brisk chill wasn’t universally shared. To his quiet horror, he learned one morning that Margie’s feet were often corpse cold. The nail beds on her toes would turn purple from poor circulation, she’d get sensitive little blisters under the skin, and the ache of being chilled through the bone would keep her awake at night. Genuinely, the bones in her feet were colder than the ambient temperature. He wouldn’t have thought it possible if he hadn’t felt the impossible iciness of her skin with his own hands.

  She had laughed, telling him that this was just how things always were for her during the winter months. It’s why she so greatly preferred the sweltering heat of summer. And that’s when Raf offered to let her cosy up in his bed. He always felt too warm at night, and she had literal ice blocks for feet. The solution seemed pretty obvious to him.

  And so, she had spent most of the winter nights with her feet pressed against his back, tucked behind his knees, or sandwiched between his legs. That same arrangement led Raf to discover that sleep came easy when he had something–or someone–to curl his arms around at night. And just like that, over the course of three short months, Magritte had nearly extinguished his reluctant dependence on sleeping medication. 

  As far as roommates were concerned, Magritte was…an unusual one. If he had tried to explain any of the peculiar details about their mutual arrangements to literally anyone else, he knew what it all sounded like. He had considered that maybe he was attracted to Margie; head-over heels in love with her. The problem was, he had been in love before. It made him stupid. And it made him unmanageably paranoid. Weird elation tangled with exhausting, antagonising suspicion; the highest highs and lowest lows. Margie didn’t make him stupid nor particularly paranoid. In fact, he had been able to navigate her with a level of clear-minded ease that was somewhat unusual to him. Perhaps it was in the way she spoke plainly and honestly with him. Despite how hard he looked for it, there was never any hidden nuance to the things Magritte said, wanted, or felt.

  Paranoia still sunk its hooks into him the same way he had grown to expect it–but a different part of him, a voice of reason that he had been working hard to cultivate, granted him a very small, very rare sense of satisfaction when he turned it to Margie’s defence. So he cared for her, at the very least. But she didn’t burden him with the dizzying gauntlet of infatuation. He wasn’t in love with her.

  But she was easy to be with. And, under her influence, life had felt much kinder.

  “Yeah, really.”

  Raf watched relief wash over Margie’s features, and she let out a little chuckle. “Oh, good. ‘Cus, yanno…usually, if I’m having a good time, it’s ‘cus someone else is running themselves ragged for it. And I don’t want you to–”

  “I promised I’d tell you if things ever started feeling off,” Raf cut in. “It’s been weird, but not off-putting. I’ve liked it, so far.”

  Her eyes held him with an expression he couldn’t quite identify, something close to tearful. But there was a delighted, grateful reverence in her gaze that wounded him in a peculiar way. He felt compelled to soothe it.

 “Hey.” Impassively, he pushed himself off the balcony railing to stand and turn towards her. “Can I try something?”

  Her mouth twitched upward in a quizzical smirk. “What?” Raf tilted his head to one side, and leaned in just enough to spur a response from her, “Oh-! Yeah? Yeah!? Ok, yes!”

  He kissed her. 

  If he liked it? If it made him uneasy? If it did anything for him, at all?

  It was a soft, gentle, fleeting little gesture; he didn’t hold it for more than a second. It was just a taste, to see–

 To see what?

  He lingered as he considered it, and just barely had time to register the broad grin on Magritte’s face before he felt her warm hands cup his jaw. She pulled him into another, far more impassioned kiss of her own–and he met her lips with the energy to match.

  As her fingers snaked around the back of his neck, he felt his hair raise beneath her touch. He leaned into her more bodily, bracing against the railing with a firm, steadying grasp. He hadn’t intended anything more than a chaste little peck, but he felt Margie’s soft lips part to invite his tongue, and was loath to leave her wanting. Her fingers ran up the back of his head, combing through his hair, and then curled back down to tenderly caress behind his ears.

  A thrill of warmth originating from her hands shivered through his body–to his groin. It coaxed a surprised purr out of his throat, and he caught it in his mouth before turning into a snort through his nose. He broke the kiss, pulling away from Magritte’s grasp to drop his forearms onto the cold balcony railing beside her, curling over himself to rest his forehead atop them.

  There was a moment of silence as Raf found himself more thankful than ever for the chill evening breeze. And then Margie’s tentative voice met his ear.

  “S-sorry. I got…I got a little carried away.”

  Raf reluctantly lifted his head to shoot her a self-deprecating smile. “Not just you.” 

  He watched her brow furrow with concerned bewilderment for a brief moment before the combination of details clicked in her mind.

  “Oh-!” Her eyes grew wide with mischievous delight, “I gave you a boner!” The exclamation came as hushed as she could manage, but her triumphant grin spoke volumes. 

  He shut his eyes in a beleaguered wince. “Don’t sound so pleased.” He opened them again when he felt her lean against his arm.

  She tilted her head to catch his gaze, and wore a cheeky smile. “We can go home and do something about it, if you want.”

  Hold on, now. “Nnn…”

  Well, maybe?

  He cast her an incredulous look. 

  “Or not!” She pulled back with an exaggerated shrug. “I know people get weird about that kinda thing–or–maybe I’m weird about it. I dunno, I’ve never been bothered by, uh…” The sentence dissolved into a weak chuckle, and her cheeks flushed pink under the faint, warm lighting that emanated from within the studio.

  Raf had never been one for casual flings. Some manner of romantic attachment had always been prerequisite before the idea of sex could carry any appeal to him at all. But then again, he never had a friend as openly straightforward as Margie before. She was as uncomplicated as they came, and Raf recklessly wondered if that would at all be compromised by taking up the offer she had just presented to him. It felt irresponsible to even consider it, but…

  Your stupid fingers in my hair got me feeling some kind of way.

  Embarrassing, how easily he had been turned on. But then again, it had been a fair few years since anyone had touched him like that and, woe betide him, a man was still a man after all.

  It was wrong about Margie. And if it wasn’t, well.

  And then there was the matter of Margie’s confidence. He liked the kiss–he obviously liked the kiss. Her ensuing proposition wasn’t a wholly unwelcome one, either. But, for someone who claimed she wasn't able to read between the lines with people, she was an expert adept at reading far too much into anything that could be perceived as a rejection. She had escalated things, but he had started it–and he didn’t want her to feel shame for reciprocating the way she had. The awful, feral part of his brain that he loathed screamed like a banshee; the usual chorus about ulterior motives and emotional manipulation. It was wrong, of course. It was always wrong.

  Except for when it wasn’t.

  If I die, I die. Fuck.

  “Sure, let's try it on.” 

  Margie stared up at him with those wide, blue eyes, but her brow was tense with uncertainty. “Really?”

  He provided a small shrug. “We already share a bed. This’ll just be another weird thing we do in our growing list of weird things. Maybe we’ll change our mind on the way home. But at the very least, I wouldn’t mind another kiss or few.” To illustrate his point, he leaned in and pressed his lips sweetly against her forehead. 

  When he pulled away, Margie stood up straight and bounced on her heels, holding her face in her hands. “Okay, okay! Yeah!” She darted towards the door and slid it open. “I’ll go get my coat, and–!”

  She stopped short of scurrying inside, and turned to ensnare him in a tight little hug. Raf didn’t have time to close his arms around her in response before she broke away from him again to scamper down the hall. He stared after her for a bewildered moment as she disappeared around the corner, towards the stairs.

  By the time he caught up with her again, she was already downstairs saying her farewells to the Hi-Note crew. She wrapped Herb up in an energetic hug that he happily reciprocated. 

  A large hand clapped Raf on the back before a familiar voice behind him asked, “Everything good?”

  He turned to see Nels favouring him with a warm smile. 

  “Yeah, I was just…” He pointed a loose finger towards the ceiling, “taking a moment.”

  Of everyone in the room, Nels was the only person who knew about Raf’s disorders. He was the first glimpse Raf ever had of what a ‘proper’ father was supposed to look like. The man was raising three daughters at home and brought that same air of patient, fatherly responsibility into the office with him each day. Raf, in particular, had been adopted by him as a kind of nephew. Nels was a best friend to his Uncle Bill, and Bill trusted him to help Raf settle into a good circle of friends and acquaintances. Raf had been reluctant to grow familiar with anyone who wasn’t his Uncle, but with a significant amount of encouragement from both his Uncle and his therapist, Raf stuck it out with Hi-Note through the several occasions he had been tempted to quit on a bad vibe, misinterpreted comment, or fearful hunch. So far, it had been working out favourably for him. The pay wasn’t great, but Raf didn’t need the income of a steady job. Rather, his therapist had been right to say that getting out of the house and expanding his ‘library of positive experiences’ was much better for his health than isolating himself at home, rotting under the grimey weight of his paranoid assumptions and suspicions.

  “You got a piece of cake, right?” Nels fished for an excuse to keep Raf around. 

  “Nah, Margie scarfed down enough for both of us.”

  Reeling back with a dissatisfied but good humoured growl, Nels insisted, “Oh, you gotta try this one. The icing is–”

  “Too sweet,” Raf cut in with a defusing laugh. “I had a bite. It’s good, but a taste was plenty.” 

  “It’s already midnight,” Margie’s voice interjected, “If Raf had it his way, he’d have been in bed an hour ago. Cake ain’t gonna fix that.” 

  “Bah!” Nels waved them both off, defeated. “Fine, go. Get out of my building, you kids don’t know how to have fun anymore.” 

  “Fun? In this economy?” Margie clutched imaginary pearls before her expression of mock dismay dissolved into a grin and she opened her arms for a parting hug.

  Nels swooped down to envelop her, and for a moment his broad body fully eclipsed her from Raf’s view. “Drive safe, be good. See you on Monday.” He pulled away from Margie, turning his gaze to make sure the sentiment landed with Raf as well.

  Raf provided a lopsided smirk and a gesture that was something between a wave and a salute. A chorus of goodbyes followed him and Margie out the front doors of Hi-Note studio, and Margie waved back over Raf’s shoulder until the doors closed behind them.

  “I like them,” she said with a happy sigh.

  “Yeah.” Raf led the way to his little, dark blue sedan parked against the street curb and watched her shuffle gleefully towards the passenger side. “They like you, too.”

  Hard not to.

  He got into the car and turned on the engine.

–

  The ride home was tricky for Magritte as she tried hard to temper her expectations. Raf was a skittish person by nature, and she had to be very careful about not overwhelming him or applying too much pressure with her eager enthusiasm. Any time he felt like he had put himself into a corner by overpromising or obligating himself too irrevocably to something, his instinct was to escape it–no matter what ‘it’ was. But there was nothing irrevocable nor obligatory about her offer to sleep with him tonight. Not ‘sleep’ in the literal sense of the word, for once. No, if he let her, she was going to suck his spirit out through his dick and fuck him into the ground. Good god, she had been wanting this for months.

  But Raf, being Raf, was liable to change his mind at the very last minute. And if he did, she wasn’t going to take it personally. She wasn’t. Nor would she be upset, nor disappointed, nor in any way disparaging about it. The most she could do was make sure not to push the topic too eagerly on the way home, and to avoid offering up any obstacles that might serve to dissuade him. 

  …Which made it very difficult for her to bring up one particular topic of concern before they had passed by the last 7/11 and it was too late.

  “I guess, um…Should we pick up condoms? I can run in and get them.”

  She held her breath as she watched him consider the question for a moment.

   Funnily enough, it wasn’t a matter of protecting against diseases. They both had a clean bill of health, and came to know that about each other when she experienced a rare episode of anxiety regarding the last guy she had stayed with. In her weird panic, she greatly overshared a plethora of details to Raf. He had been remarkably cool about it, and walked her through the entire process of getting tested–something he was no recent stranger to.

  Rather, she didn’t want to tempt fate on getting knocked-up; not when life was just starting to become enjoyable again. The idea of pregnancy was a lovecraftian horror to her, and the stress of dealing with something like that to any extent just wasn’t worth the gamble. She was on the pill, yes…but even that wasn’t guaranteed protection. And, with how often she forgot to take it, she wasn’t sure it protected her at all. 

  “I mean…” Raf began, hesitantly.

  Magritte spared him the trouble. “Or not, if it’s a pain in the ass.” She shrugged with a disarming little laugh. “It’s a bit out of the–”

  Raf cut her off. “No, it’s fine, we absolutely can. It’s just that I’m–” Without taking his eyes off the road he produced a scissor-snipping motion with his fingers.

  Margie stared for a bewildered moment before her brain picked it up. “Wait, what? Really? Why?” She had leaned towards him with that last question before realising it was probably a shitty thing to ask.

  But, if it bothered Raf, he showed no sign of it. “I don’t want kids, and I had…an unpredictable ex.” 

  “Oh!” Margie had the good sense not to press him further, and leaned back into her seat. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Well, lucky me.”

  She delighted in the humoured snort she coaxed from him. His easy smile and relaxed posture assured her that he wasn’t grappling with any second thoughts.

  That won a sidelong glance from him. “So..?”

  “Straight home, garçon!” She chopped one hand into the palm of the other with mock urgency. “The minutes are precious!”

  And indeed, though he had kept his hands to himself for much of the ride home, and in the elevator up to his apartment, Magritte found herself pressed between his body and the door to his flat as he warmed her with a voraciously weighty kiss. She received it gratefully. The heat of him, the molten softness of his lips, the scruffy, tickling hairs of his chin–

  She hadn’t realised that his free hand–the one not curled amorously around her body–had been busy unlocking the door. She’d have staggered backwards when it opened, had Raf not preemptively braced her with the arm that held her.

  He broke the kiss in order to assure that their half-stumble into the apartment didn’t devolve into a full stumble. But still, he kept a steadying arm around her, and she rewarded the preservation of closeness by pressing a string of kisses down his neck and towards his collarbone. Her hands had found their way beneath both his jacket and t-shirt, the flesh of his torso hot against her forearms and fingertips.

  She heard the door close shut behind them, and the familiar sound of the keys dropping onto the counter before the hand that had been holding them cupped the side of her head. She felt his lips press against the opposite temple.

  She had been able to kick off her shabby, loose-fitting boots without pause, but she reluctantly peeled herself away from Raf in case he wanted to take his sneakers off with a little more care. And, perhaps…to give him some space to think. Taking the opportunity to remove her jacket, she chucked it haphazardly across the couch.

  Raf was measuring her with a gaze when she turned back towards him.

  “Second thoughts?” Her smirk carried a cheeky confidence that worked hard to cover the self-conscious tone in her voice. 

  “No.” His bewildered inflection and raised eyebrows explained plenty; he had expected to turn against the idea by now.

  “It’s a bit impulsive,” Magritte conceded.

  Raf provided a slow nod, “It is…”

  “I’d really like it, though.”

  “I want you to.” He seemed to chew on that for a moment, as though it had answered something for him.

  There was an awkward standoff while neither of them moved, and in that brief moment, Magritte deeply regretted putting the space between them. Finally, Raf approached her and placed a kiss onto her forehead while his hands gently teased the elastic tie out of her nest of auburn curls. She wrapped her palms around the back of his neck as she felt her hair fall loose from the messy bun it had been wrangled into.

  “Promise me this won’t fuck anything up.” His voice was low and quiet in her ear. The pleading tone was only amplified by the lingering manner in which his cheek rested against the side of her head. His warm breath against her slightly chilled skin inspired goosebumps.

  She pulled back to look him squarely in the eyes. This was far from being her first tryst with a friend, and she knew herself well in this regard. “I promise it won’t! Not for me, but…” She offered an apologetic half-smile. “I can’t promise it won’t change things for you; I don’t control how you react. So, really. Really, really, really–if you’re not sure, then I’d rather…not. I like things the way they are. I like doing things with you. To me, this is just another thing I like doing that I think would be really fun to do with you. Not at the expense of anything else, though.”

  He searched her features with a scrutinising stare, and she didn’t shy away from it.

  “Nothing changes,” He asserted, “we’re just friends.”

  “Good friends,” she offered back with an impudent grin.

  He mirrored her expression with a scoff and a lopsided smirk of his own. “The friendsiest friends.”

  “But, friends just the same.”

 Her conviction was rewarded with another kiss, his lips melting against hers as she felt the tension in his muscles evaporate through a sigh. Her hands glided up his arms, over his shoulders, and around to the back of his neck. As she gently combed her fingernails through his hair, she remembered that delightful little noise she had coaxed out of him on the balcony. What had done it? Was it the kiss? Or…

  Her fingers traced the contours of his scalp and, as she curled them towards her palm, they lightly caressed the back of his ears. Her thumbs smoothed over the muscles of his jaw, but before she completed the gesture, he broke away from her.

“Alright, friend.” He curled his upper lip to flash teeth at her in a playful snarl. “Get your lily white ass into the bedroom before the last brain cell navigating my good manners is starved of oxygen.” He turned her toward the hall, and a pat of his hand against her butt provided her with all the motivation she needed to oblige his request. 

  She whisked herself down the hall into his room, and left the door just slightly ajar for him. She knew he wasn’t going to follow her right away. He had his evening habits to tend to; checking the door, setting the thermostat, turning out the lights, and taking his meds with a tall glass of water. It would have been silly of her to think that the promise of tits and ass would throw him off routine.

  Magritte took the opportunity to shed her clothes, throwing off her shirt and wiggling out of her tight tank top–a personal compromise for her disdain for bras. She shimmied out of her denim shorts and leggings both in the same gesture. Her underwear, though, was of a cute, boyish design and she decided she’d give Raf the satisfaction of peeling them off her, if he so wished to.

  Wait, just the underwear? Is that weird? She considered putting the tank top back on, and failed to gather the motivation for it. And so, she settled upon a better idea. Grabbing one of his t-shirts out of the second drawer of his dresser, she pulled it on, over her head. Hell yeah, guys love this shit.

  No sooner had she put on his shirt than he walked in to see her wearing it. She turned to him with a sheepish grin, tugging the bottom hem over her thighs. 

  Taking a sip from the glass of water in his hand, Raf clocked the shirt and favoured her with a humoured hum. “Comfy?”

  She provided a coy nod, and, before she could do much else, he abandoned his glass on the top of the dresser to close the distance between them. His arms caught her up into more of a ‘scrunch’ than a proper hug, and he came down on her with a frustrated growl, burying his entire face into the side of her neck with the sound of exaggerated chomping. The combination of lightly grazing teeth and his rough chin against her skin elicited a startled yelp from her before sending her into a fit of uncontrolled giggles as she was effortlessly bowled over onto the bed.

  “I changed my mind.” He snarled, “I’m gonna eat you, instead. Hungry, horny, it’s all the same.”

  “It’s not, though!” Her words were barely intelligible, warbling with laughter. 

  As she struggled in vain to wedge a hand between the soft flesh of her throat and his coarse goatee, his mock gnashing softened into playful kisses. Regaining her composure and chasing away her giggles by clearing her throat, she snaked her hands beneath his shirt.

  “I’m worth more to you undevoured, I promise.”

  “Remains to be seen,” Raf muttered into the hollow beneath her ear.

  “Well…let's see.”

  Her thumbs smoothed over the trail of body hair from belt line to belly button, before her palms passed broadly over the front of his stomach, around his sides, and up his back. Digging her fingers into his shoulder blades, she tilted her chin back and drew in a long breath as his lips travelled down her neck, towards her collar bone.

  Distracted by the pleasant textures of his mouth, Magritte’s attention hadn’t followed his travelling hands–until she felt the heel of his palm press broadly against her clit through the fabric of her underwear. Instinctively, her thighs tightened around him, and her hands abandoned their near-completed task of unbuttoning his jeans; grasping the waistline instead. She coiled into his touch as his palm lifted away to drag his fingertips lightly up, towards the top hem of her panties. From there, they slipped easily under the close-hugging fabric to sink into the warm folds between her legs.

  Raf’s firm, steadying grasp around her ribcage slid up to appreciate the soft, pliable curves  of her breasts hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt. His fingers teased the hardened nipples while she manoeuvred her lower body beneath him. She freed her legs out from under his lap so that her thighs hugged around his hips and, in swift order, she ghosted her hands down to find his belt. As she worked to unbuckle it, his mouth caught hers. His tongue teased her lips apart and she welcomed it with her own.

  His kisses had a soft, buttery quality reminiscent of a girl she once loved, and it was a feeling she treasured. His lips, smooth and warm, melted against the tense contours of hers in a sensasion she could only describe as ‘creamy and comforting’.

  She felt his fingers tease her apart, and they traced the contours of her sex with gentle confidence, exploring her geography. Though his mouth worked fervently against her lips, throat, and collar bone, his touch between her legs was restrained and methodical. She had expected him to plunge knuckle deep into the first hole he found–as men in her experience were typically inclined to. But his fingers only teased her entrance before gliding back up her moistened crease to find–

  “Oh-!” Margie flinched as a shock jolted her body. Not painfully, but in a manner comparable to having an icecube suddenly pressed against her, unexpected.

  Raf stilled the moment she had tensed.

  “Sensitive.” His observation was murmured into the crook of her neck before he purred more audibly into her ear, “Sorry, love.”

  She paused. His fingers had begun to work firm, broad circles around her clit in a way that, at first, didn’t feel like it was doing anything special for her. But quickly, she felt a building pressure begin to heat her core.

  Sensitive?

  She wasn’t, though. In the past, complaints had been made that she took too long to get off. Her previous fling had joked that only a jackhammer could provide the adequate stimulation she needed. When it came to sex, she knew herself as a veritable puzzle box of distractibility and dulled senses. It meant excellent stamina and fun sensations, but a proper orgasm delivered in a timely manner required her own effort more than the effort of her partner.

  “No, no,” she began placatingly, “you didn’t–”

  That same heat rose up to prickle her chest and cheeks. Margie pressed her mouth against the top of his shoulder to muffle a reverent, “Motherfucker.” 

  That was not the appropriate choice of words to praise him with, but that’s what forced its way out of her throat. He had found that sweet spot almost as easily as she might have found it herself, which led her to the realisation that she had been robbed–robbed–by previous lovers. What the everloving fuck.

  She couldn’t help but let out a confounded little chuckle into the fabric of his shirt, and he responded with an amused little “Mmh.”

  Without even meaning to, she had tensed her grip around him. Her arms held him tight, with handfuls of his shirt balled into her fists. Her legs had constricted around his waist and the leverage they provided allowed for the needy manner in which her hips writhed to meet his firm and steady touch. It was a greedy moment while she abandoned her attempts at reciprocation, intent on appreciating the way Raf kneaded her between his fingers. Her long drawn sighs of pleasure slowly devolved into a breathy panting–which fell into near perfect synchrony with his purposeful, hastening strokes between her thighs. 

  If she had been paying attention to her breathing, if she had noticed when her voice began releasing a single, ragged note every few breaths, she might have asked for pause. But, she hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than the growing warmth between her legs and the tense swell of pressure gathering in the very pit of her stomach. And it grew, hotter and hotter, with each purposeful, dexterous stroke of his fingers. Oh–she was sensitive, now. Between her thighs, she could feel every small vibration that met her. The way his fingers worked pleased not just her clit, but the rest of her aroused sex as well. Every small movement he pressed into her, she felt across the entire organ. Her thighs closed around his waist as she lifted her hips to find her pleasure against his fingertips. She felt the muscles of her stomach draw tight.

  A sharp gasp preceded a short, trembling “Ah-!” that escaped with her breath. All that tension, that gathering pressure, broke like a wave through her body. It had built up so quickly that the orgasm took her by complete surprise, and she writhed against Raf’s fingers as she rode it out; her face buried into the crook of his neck, eyes shut tightly.

  She didn’t relax her body nor lift her head as the ripples of pleasure subsided, but she felt Raf’s fingers withdraw from her.

  “Hey.” Raf’s voice crooned in her ear, and his hands on her waist pressed her lightly back, coaxing her to release him from the death-grip she held him in.

  Reluctantly, she unfurled from him, uncoiling her arms, and dropping her knees to hang off his outer thighs. The rough texture of denim against  the back of her calves reminded her that he still had his pants on. She came, and he was still wearing pants.

  She hazarded a sheepish glance up towards his face, and was met with a modestly small smile, made very smug by the upward arch of his eyebrows.

  “That’s what you get for the balcony boner, you little shit.” 

  Raf lifted himself off her, but she grabbed the front of his shirt with flustered defiance. “We’re not done!”

  “You sure?” His incredulity wasn’t the least bit sincere. “Because it seemed to me like you–”

  “No!” She scrambled to sit on her knees atop his bed and jabbed a demanding finger towards his waist. “Take your pants off!”

  He hesitated, and for a moment, Margie genuinely worried he’d say ‘nah’. But instead, he leaned in for another kiss and obliged her command. The sound of his belt clattering outcompeted the sultry feeling of his lips for her attention, and her eager gaze turned automatically to assess what she was working with. 

  She had expected to see an aching erection. Usually, by the time the pants came off, guys had been hard as hell and ready to go. Instead, the man who had just rubbed the easiest orgasm she’d ever experienced out of her appeared lightly fluffed at most. For a brief second, she wondered if her playful brattiness had ruined the mood. And then, she considered…that possibly…she just wasn’t attractive to him. 

  She returned her attention to their kiss as she chewed on that thought a bit. As far as girls went, she was a bit of a gremlin. A goblin, even. She wouldn’t dare call herself a ‘woman’ nor even a ‘lady’--those words gave her gender expression far too much credit. But even so, she was mostly comfortable with her appearance. Regardless of that, sloppy tomboys weren’t everyone’s preferred cup of tea, and it didn’t have to be. She had slept with people she didn’t personally find attractive before and it had been fine and dandy, all things considered.

  You can be ugly and still give killer blowjobs. 

  She smirked to herself, and, as she combed fingers through Raf’s hair with one hand, she allowed the other to travel down his torso until her palm curled around the soft, warm skin of his shaft. Her fingertips coiled along the underside of it, tracing a firm, straight line towards the base of the glans, and she massaged the head against the ball of her thumb with gentle, coaxing strokes. 

  His body responded to her touch; the malleable flesh stiffened in her grasp and filled her hand substantially. In return, her caresses grew more broad and firm; the heel of her palm only abandoning the sensitive tip for the brief intervals when her fingers endeavoured to tease and cradle his sack. 

  She felt Raf’s fingertips trace lightly up her spine, beneath her shirt, in a manner that provoked goosebumps. Once they found the loose curls of her hair, they followed her locks up to the nape of her neck, and brushed passionately over the base of her scalp. He hadn’t pulled his lips away from her, except to nip lightly at her jaw and ear.

  A small “Hmm” escaped him, sounding more contemplative than pleased, and it prompted her to pull her gaze back and assess his features. He only mirrored her measuring glance before bestowing a sweet little kiss on her nose.

  "We good?" She asked as cooly as she could manage.

  "Yeah?" His response warbled on a laugh, and it coaxed a reassured smile out of her. "I'd say so."

  “...Gave you another boner."

  "Oh." He glanced down and said with a sardonic tone, "Shit, thanks for telling me. I'd have never known."

  By the time his gaze returned to her, Margie met it with a stony, straight face.

 His amused expression wavered. "...What?"

Holding his gaze, she pressed down on his erection with a forefinger before turning her eyes to watch it as she let it spring upward in a marvellously undignified display of structural tension. The juvenile mistreatment of his manhood left Raf at a temporary loss for words and Magritte stifled her laugh into a snort. Before he could chide her, she shoved both hands beneath his shirt and lifted it, intent on freeing him of the garment completely. With a muffled exclamation, he complied, lifting his arms and finishing the job of pulling it off, over his head. 

Taking the opportunity to plant kisses across his chest and down his torso, Margie didn’t glance up to see his expression as her mouth dragged hungrily past his belly button and over the strip of body hair that led her down, towards the prize waiting for her between his legs. She rested her cheek against him, atop the unruly patch of honey coloured pubes that crowned his crotch, and closed her hand around the length of him. She was hopeless at measuring the size of anything with just a gaze, but he filled her grasp with a satisfying heft and was certainly longer than her hand. Favouring him with a well-appraising hum and a few loving strokes, she lifted her head to face her challenge. She peeled back the foreskin with a tender downstroke, before kissing the sensitive pink tip. 

  The scent of him was far from unpleasant; a heady musk that excited her senses goaded her to take him into her mouth. Slick moisture met her lips when they pressed against his flesh, and, when they parted to draw him in, her tongue was quick to receive him. She held the head of his cock in her mouth as her tongue swirled and lapped hungrily over its smooth contours. He provided texture more than taste; his scent informed the flavour perhaps more than anything else. Inside her mouth, he was velvety, warm, and gratifying to explore. She pulled her lips back over the gentle curves until they came together to kiss the tip again. Her tongue flicked out to lap the head’s underside before the rest of her mouth followed, and she drew him in deeper than before.

  She repeated that course, cherishing every bit of him with her tongue before pulling back to kiss the tip, and then drawing him into her mouth deeper with each successive round. Her thumbs had run up his inner thighs until they found the silky skin of his sack. She held and massaged it gently, appreciating the supple texture beneath her fingertips.

  Initially, Raf’s fingers had teased and entwined themselves in her nest of curls somewhat languidly. But slowly, his hands grew tense against the back of her head, occasionally clenching into fists around handfuls of her hair. She thought–and hoped–that he’d start pulling, but any time he came close to doing so, he quickly released his grip. She could have lamented that, but she appreciated the same restraint applied to the motions of his hips. As a precaution, Margie placed a steading hand around one side of his waist, but she knew from experience that this was poor defence against an overeager thrust. Under her palm, she could feel his muscles tense and flinch. That, coupled with the slight, uneven rolling of his hips, betrayed his urge to buck against her mouth. For his considerate efforts, she rewarded him by trying to decipher and match the pace that his rigidly subdued movements suggested to her. 

  “...Christ.” His breaths had been coming up deep and steady and the muttered profanity was barely audible to Magritte, but she caught it with a thrill.

  In response, she closed her eyes and pulled him into her throat so that her lips were flush against the hot skin of his lower abdomen. Her throat constricted uncomfortably around the intrusion that had smoothed over her tonsils, and she pulled back before it forced her to gag. Taking a deep, steadying breath through her nose, she allowed herself a precious second before swallowing him again. Her throat was no happier for it, but making a man's dick disappear was her favourite little party trick. Raf’s fingers brushed over her jaw in a gesture that permitted her to release him, but she ignored it in favour of challenging her gag reflex a third time.

  “Margie–!” He cupped her face more firmly, and this time, she obeyed what was clearly a request, not a suggestion.

  She pulled back, hollowing out her cheeks so that he left her mouth with an audible *pop*, and turned a sheepish smile up to him. 

  He met her gaze with a mix of awe and incredulity.“Holy shit, warn me next time.” 

  Providing him with an unrepentant shrug, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Too much?"

  “I mean, not if you’re trying to get this done and over with real quick.”

  To that, Magritte flashed her teeth in an impish grin. “Finish him!”

  Her poor yet unmistakable Mortal Kombat impression caused Raf’s brow to crease quizzically before a bark of laughter escaped him. “No, why are you like this?”

  He flattened his palm against her face, and she let out an ineffective chihuahua-like snarl as he irreverently pushed her backwards so that she laid flat on her bed. She landed with a fit of giggles, and she felt his thumbs hook into the waistband of her panties. He slid them down past her knees and Magritte was able to wriggle the garment down, off her ankles. Kneeling between her legs, Raf grabbed her by the waist and playfully dragged her towards him so that her hips met his.

  As he descended upon her with a flurry of kisses, she felt his erection lay flat across her stomach–the slick coat of moisture it wore from her mouth cooled on her skin. She couldn’t help but writhe eagerly beneath him; one hand in his hair while the other grasped and clawed needily along his lower back. His hands worked much more purposefully. One arm coiled around her shoulders to brace the both of them as the other snaked down her belly, fingertips finding the warm, damp flesh between her legs. He teased apart her lower lips, pressing a firm thumb just above her clit and massaging it gently. His middle and ring fingers skated easily downward to find her opening; tender and wet with her arousal. He pressed a careful finger into her and, when it sunk in with ease, he inserted another. With gentle strokes and twists, he acquainted himself with her; winning pleased hums and a determined roll of her hips as he felt the boundaries of her interior. His breath came up in heavy sighs as he kissed, bit, and sucked the flesh of her neck. She was aware, too, of how his hips rolled against hers with a neediness that mirrored her own. 

  His fingers withdrew from her and, for a moment, so too did his lower body. With keen anticipation, Margie wrapped her legs firmly around him for leverage, sinking her heels into the back of his calves as she lifted her hips up to receive him. He didn’t leave her waiting. She felt his cock press against and part her flesh to make space for itself. Swollen with arousal, her body provided pleasant resistance before surrendering to envelop him. He sank into her with gratifying ease; fitting comfortably between her legs. A delighted gasp escaped her when he drew his hips flush to hers, eliciting a ripple of pleasure that radiated out from her inner flesh, down into her toes. Her muscles clenched around him instinctively, and her knees lifted to hold him as closely to her as possible.

  At the sound of her breathy little mewl, a chuckle rose from Raf’s throat followed by another one of his contemplative hums. This time, though, an unmistakable satisfaction boiled in the low rumble of his tone.

  In Margie’s opinion, this was one of the best parts of sex; the initial feeling of having that aching, hungry gap between her thighs filled the warm, hefty girth of her lover. But there was something uniquely gratifying about hosting Raf in this manner, and the reason wasn’t a mystery to her. Without question, he was the most good looking man to ever find himself between her legs. From the first day she met him in Granville Station, she had been charmed by his lopsided smirk, dorky goatee, and aloof demeanour. His torn jeans and goofy dollar store sunglasses hadn’t been able to outcompete the easy charisma and gentle kindness he carried with him. He had a handsome face, a nice body that he took care of, and a mindful confidence that belied the tumultuous anxieties that plagued him. As she had gotten to know him better, she only adored him more.

  ‘Adored’. Hah, who am I kidding.

  She loved him, no revelation there. He didn’t have to rub an orgasm out of her and stick his dick in for her to realise that. She loved easily, and recklessly, and had known she was pooched after their very first jam session. He had been fun to play with, gave her kind praise and honest feedback, and made her feel like he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her. That and a pretty face was really all it took to win her loyal affections.

  But he was a skittish creature, and she loved him enough to find joy in whatever form their relationship took. Otherwise, she’d have overcrowded and overwhelmed him, and he–like all the others before him–would have grown to resent everything he initially claimed to like about her. She likened herself to salt; best enjoyed sparingly, and never on its own. It’s why she had been so reluctant to move in with him, despite wanting to spend every minute of her time with him. Too much salt. She feared becoming unpalatable. 

  Well, now he’s balls deep in me, purring comfortably in my ear–which means I’ve got no choice but to make him cum so hard, he sees stars.

  She had tried to moderate her behaviour and failed. She failed the very moment she accepted the keys to his apartment. She failed when he sweetly offered to let her snuggle him in bed so that he could help warm her feet. There had been mornings when she woke up to the maddening feeling of his stiffness pressed against the small of her back. She had remained very still and very quiet so as to not let him know that she had been awake before him, but good lord every muscle in her body had wanted to squirm against him. Without fail, the very moment he woke up, he’d carefully–very carefully–untangle his limbs from hers and turn away before getting out of bed to start his day. And without fail, she’d spend the consiquent morning too cumbrained to even see straight. 

  Just like she couldn’t say no to an apartment key and nightly snuggles, she couldn’t say no to a kiss. She couldn’t help but push it to see where it’d go. And now she was here. Remarkably. Unregrettably.

  ‘I couldn’t help myself,’ said the scorpion, ‘it’s in my nature.’

  A bit too late, Margie realised that Raf’s satisfied rumblings in her ear had been forming actual vowels and consonants.

  “Hm-?” She returned to the present moment with a flinch she hoped he didn’t notice.

  “I like your little noises,” he replied.

  “Oh.” Magritte blinked, running fingers through his hair. She used the back of her heel to caress the curve of his butt with irreverent affection. “Well then, giddy up, Mister Ephrem, and I’ll give you a cacophony!”

  She felt him grin against her jawline before grazing it with his teeth and providing an affirmative little growl. 

  His hips withdrew, only to rock forward into her again. His first few strokes were of a careful, measuring pace until he repositioned his knees further apart and closer to her body. Dropping his forehead down onto the mattress, over her shoulder, he grabbed her waist with two firm hands and pulled her up closer to him. He curled his torso to plunge into her more deeply. The angle of his cock struck a pleasing cluster of nerves inside her body, and she inhaled sharply as it retreated over her swollen flesh to slam back in against it in steady rhythm. Each time, his dick slid out of her until she was empty save for the stretch where they met; the lips of her cunt covetously hugging the contours of the cock’s head. And then he’d part her walls again with a forceful, hungry thrust; smoothing the mounds of velvety muscle that constricted around him and resisted his departing strokes.

  Every few thrusts forced a note of pleasure out of Magritte’s throat, carried on ragged huffs of breath. At first, her punctuated little cries only had to compete against the sound of Raf’s deep, steady breathing and the faint creaking of his bed. But, as her thighs became sticky and sodden from her arousal, the percussive sound of flesh on flesh began to drown out her little moans. Like the true musician he was, Raf searched for the right fingering to coax the sound he wanted out of her. His thumb pressed against the flesh right above her clit and rubbed it in quick, small circles as he continued to drive his cock into her. 

  The feeling of being kneaded firmly between his fingers and his dick provoked a strangled cry that bubbled out of her mouth before she even registered it. A sharp, quavering breath preceded another ecstatic wail, and then another. She curled her arms tightly around the back of Raf’s neck and attempted to muffle the chorus of her euphoria against his shoulder.

  The mounting tension caused her muscles to clench. The way his dick pushed against the walls of her cunt as it constricted around him only intensified the pressure that welled up inside her.

  “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” They were barely words, carrying the same quaking tone as her blissed-out yowls. 

  In response, Raf reached up to roughly smooth her hair back and cradle her head. He buried his nose into her hair, and pressed clenched teeth against her temple in a gesture that might have initially been intended as a kiss. His thrusts had grown desperate and uneven, but the hand that worked her clit remained fastidious in its efforts, bringing her so, so, so achingly close.

  “Good girl.” His voice was a breathy growl against her skull. “Come on, now…”

  Her legs had been wrapped around him so tightly that her muscles ached. But it provided the leverage she needed to buck against him with fervent need. He drove into her with short, rapid thrusts, barely withdrawing to slam as deeply into her as their bodies would permit; hitting up against her tightening core–until the dam of pressure burst to release a flood of sensation across every part of her. In the seconds leading up to it, Margie had fallen completely silent, drawing in a long breath that she held in her chest until the crashing wave of her orgasm forced it out of her. She felt the pulses of pleasure throb in her lower abdomen, caressing the man inside of her in a way that she never consciously could.

  At some point during her climax, Raf’s hands had both found her waist again, gripping her rapaciously as he chased his own pleasure. His breaths came up in short, uneven bursts, and the undeliberate groans being drawn out of him composed the greatest piece of music she had ever delighted in hearing.

  She writhed her hips to meet him at every feverish thrust. Slowing to longer, powerful strokes, he slammed into her once, twice, and with a quiet growl, he buried himself as deeply as their bodies would allow. His strong grip pressed her hard against him, holding her firmly in place as the force of his orgasm punched the breath out of his lungs. As he came inside of her, his hips strained against her body with the feral desire to empty himself deeper.

  This, too, was one of the best parts of sex, Margie decided. She’d never gone about it without a condom before, and while the thrill was almost certainly a psychological one, the verdict was in; she very enjoyed the feeling of having her insides painted lovingly white. She liked it a lot. With the covetous squeezing of her thighs and abdominal muscles, she made it known to him.

  The two of them remained locked together in a hot, messy, panting heap on the bed for an immeasurable moment before Raf nuzzled his face into the crook of Margie’s neck with a long, bodily sigh. She drew a hand up to affectionately caress his neck and the back of his head.

  “W...we good?” Her voice came up raspy, cracking on the second word, and she couldn’t help but exhale a little laugh at herself.

  “Mmh,” was the most Raf could conjure for a long while before he muttered semi-intelligible, “Magnifique.” He echoed her laugh with one of his own before bringing his arms forward to prop himself up, off of her. 

  As she allowed him to decouple from her, she curled her hands under her chin, reluctant to sit up with him…for reasons relating to gravity and fluids. 

  Sitting on his knees with her legs across his lap, Raf provided a mollifying grin that favoured one side of his face. “I, uh–shit.” He dropped his face into one of his palms with a self-deprecating laugh. “Ejected some of my brain cells there, I think.”

  “A shower might help with that,” Margie offered with a broad smile that flashed her teeth. “I’ll take one with you.” 

–

  It had been as though they spent the evening doing any other typical thing. It could have been a night of board games, for how casually Magritte navigated the aftermath of their activities. Raf had expected some manner of uncomfortable, condolatory discussion that went long into the early hours of morning; how they had liked it, whether or not they’d do it again, what it meant for their relationship, if it meant anything at all. But that conversation never occurred.

  Margie had made her enjoyment known while she shared a shower with him, and bestowed easy praise on his ‘excellent fingering’. In turn, he confessed that he could grow quickly addicted to the adorable little trills, yelps, and moans he had been able to coax out of her. Not to mention the other things she could do with her mouth. Dieu, mon fucking dieu. 

  The rest was clear enough to be obvious without discussion. Sex could just be another thing they did together when the mood struck–if it stuck at all. It hadn’t come with any promises or expectations, not any more than playing music or snuggles in bed had. It was the best Raf could have hoped for.

   Magritte seemed wholly uninterested in applying the pressures of romantic commitment onto him. If there was ever anything she wanted, she could never help but to edge it into conversations one way or another–he knew that much about her. Instead, she seemed entirely set on making sure she didn’t bring up anything even approaching the matter. She said she liked things the way they were, and, while his brain could question the truth in that–or in anything she said–he was of much the same opinion. Perhaps they had both come to the same understanding. Something about love, especially romantic love, brought out the worst in people. It had always seemed like a battle of wills; two people trying to deconstruct and reshape one another to fit the impossible moulds that would ensure the longevity of their relationship. How could anyone endure that kind of transformation without poisoning the relationship with resentment? He’d never know. He didn’t have to find out.

  Laying in bed at three in the morning, showered, satisfied, and cosy, with Magritte purring tiny snores in his arms, he couldn’t have asked for more. Whatever it was that he and Margie were enjoying together–friends with benefits?–suited him, so far. For all it mattered, she could decide to move across the sea next week, and he’d be unharmed by the decision so long as they remained on friendly terms. And that felt safe.

   What they had…it felt safe.

[yangkitties]

bros before hoes ✰ chapter 06: new MCs in town

wc: 0.6k

The contrast of your stylist’s cold fingers against your warm face feels jarring, giving you something else to feel other than jittery nerves.

You concentrate on the way she carefully places each strand of your hair, pushing and twirling it to perfection. You watch the mirror intently, observing the way your face transforms. 

It feels natural, like stepping into your home after going on vacation. 

But even your intense focus couldn’t deter the course of your anxiety, mind swarming with what ifs. 

Being on stage had never scared you. You’d been performing for as long as you could remember, from school shows to award shows, the stage has always been your safe place. But today it was different. 

Although you had done several run throughs with and without Sunghoon, going on stage to MC gave you butterflies. 

You vaguely hear your stage queue as the stylist helps you, adjusting your outfit one more time. You like it, it’s simple, yet classy, and gives you enough confidence to not turn back and run away. 

As you get closer to the stage, you spot Sunghoon. You can’t help but gasp at his appearance, decked to match you. It makes you heart race and your cheeks burn, and you swear you fall a little bit in love with him. 

You stand next to him, nervously shuffling and un-shuffling your cue cards. He gently places his hand on yours, halting your moments. You turn to him in shock, only to be greeted by a calming smile. 

‘It’ll be fine. Don’t be too nervous, you were great during our rehearsals, you’ll do well now too.’ You smile at him, grateful for his presence. 

The music cue begins, and suddenly you’re emceeing with the ease. 

You remember to laugh in all the right places, ask the right questions, and welcome each artist. Every second is a bit of a blur, the time flying. 

Soon enough you’re off stage, letting out a huge breath. Your shoulders relax, body hunching over in relief. You can hear Sunghoon laugh beside you, joining you as you walk back to your dressing room. 

He smiles, ‘You were a natural up there! You did so well.’ You smile in response, glad to hear his natural voice again.

‘And you were incredible too. I thought I’d-’ Your words get cut off as Sunghoon comes to an abrupt stop. Following his line of vision, you instantly spot what got him to stop.

Tsuki. There she was, in all her pink haired glory. For a second, everything feels weird. And then you’re swept off your feet as she hugs you, laughing in your ears. 

‘Y/NNIE YOU WERE SO GREAT ON STAGE! I watched the entire thing from my phone while waiting for you, oh I wish I could’ve seen it on the big monitor!!’ She looks at you with a bright smile, hugging you again. 

Laughing, you hug her back. ‘Thank you Tsuki, that means the world.’ You smile at her, glad to have her with you. 

You finally realise Sunghoon standing towards the side, twisting his rings again. He looks wide eyed, the tips of his ears a flaming crimson. He awkwardly clears his throat, waiting for you to introduce him.

‘Oh! Tsuki, Sunghoon. Sunghoon, Tsuki!’ You smile brightly, swallowing everything you felt. 

Sunghoon raises his hand in timid greeting, face somehow turning even more red. Tsuki seems oddly skeptical, waving back to him. 

She bows slightly, ‘Nice to meet you, but we have to go unfortunately! See you next time.’ She drags you away into the dressing room, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

You want to be bothered by her weirdness really, but as you move to change for the rest of your schedules, you are too happy to care. Today was a success, and you were determined to carry this feeling with you for the rest of the day. 

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synopsis > with the help of fukutomi tsuki, park y/n finally gains the courage to face their long time crush, the one and only, park sunghoon. park sunghoon thinks it's love at first sight when he sees her. paired up as the new mcs of music bank, shenanigans ensue when y/n learns about sunghoon's crush...

note: yawl i am so sorry... i rlly dont mean to keep disappearing >:(

©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

[ethereallyari-books]

Kinktober-

Dive with Diavolo

Warning: nsfw/sexual content. Read at your OWN desires.

————

It was late in the evening.

Taking a nice vacation with the brothers and the demon prince - to celebrate Lord Diavolo’s upcoming birthday, of course.

The brothers had already set themselves in for the night. You could hear Mammon’s and and Belphie’s snore as you tip toed out the room.

Hoping to now have a nice quiet moment to yourself in the hot spring. Having a towel around your waist as you left the shower heading over- you spotted a familiar brown skinned demon.

His red hair sticking to his face from him being wet.

“Oh- Lord Diavolo. I didn’t know you were awake-“ you said with a slight bow.

He nodded his head and gave a small smile. “It’s quiet.”

You gave a chuckle. “Yes that it is. Well..just get me when you’re done. I too would like to enjoy a moment of quiet.” You said as you turned around to head back inside.

“We..could enjoy the silence together… come and join me.”

A light blush danced across your cheeks but you nodded heading back into his direction. Dropping your towel, you slowly entered the hot spring. Humming in bliss.

“Oh that feels nice.”

The warm water hitting your skin. You settled yourself in. Looking up at the night sky and seeing all the stars that greeted you.

You felt eyes staring at you. Turning your head you looked at Diavolo- who was in fact staring at you.

“My apologies…I just can’t help but look at you. To say that there is beauty in front of me would be an insulting understatement.” He said with admiration and longing in his eyes.

“Oh Lord Diavolo, you flatter me.”

“It is the truth. And please, just Diavolo.”

You nodded. “Diavolo.” You scooted slightly closer to him. For which he took notice to.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Why are you so far?” He motioned for you to come closer.

You nodded, standing up and moving closer to him.

He shook his head. “Closer.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Scooting over more.

“Closerrr.”

You laughed this time. Scooting a little more.

Still unsatisfied, he reached over. Grabbing your thighs and pulling you to sit right next to him “That’s better.”

With the way your face was red, it was hard to tell if you were flushed from the warmness of the water, or from the way Diavolo was attending to you.

Either way, you felt your body tingle in more places than others.

Diavolo seemed to notice. You took the liberty of climbing yourself onto his lap, straddling him.

He raised his eyebrows. “I have to say, I admire your boldness.”

Your hands travels to his shoulders. He placed his hands on your hips as he closed his eyes.

You were hoping it was the heat of the water that was making your head foggy. Any excuse to explain what settled the courage inside you to do what you were about to do next-

Your hands snaked up into his hair. Scratching slightly at his scalp as you took first full. To which he hummed in response. You rolled your hips forward, now resting perfectly ontop of him.

His chest rose as he took a deep breath. Slowly opening his eyes. His golden yellow eyes meeting yours. Your faces so close together- you leaned in and kissed him. He let a breath out into the kiss.

Such an intoxicating feeling. Your hands tugging at his hair. His hands squeezing your hips as you felt him grow underneath you.

He moaned softly into your mouth as your hips rolled against him. Breaking the kiss with a string of saliva dripping. Licking his lips he smiled. Looking at you with half lidded eyes. He trailed kisses down your jawline and across your collarbone.

Shivers going down your spine. The heat of the water starting to get to you. You reached down and stood up his now erect dick, you raised and lowered yourslef onto him.

He let out a small gasp as he felt it. Feeling you clench around him as you got used to his size. The size of a demon prince that is.

“MC, I-I have to say I’m not used to you acting such a way.” He said quietly.

“There must be something in the air tonight”he cut you off.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” He whispered. Moving your hips to have you nicely grind against him.

Your eyes fluttered. You pressed your body against his, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold onto for dear mercy.

He kissed along your chest. His forhead pressing against your collarbone. Using the non-gravity of the water, he lifted and lowered you with ease.

Readjusting himself slightly to allow himself access to the motion of thrusting up into you.

A relatively loud moan left your lips. You quickly raised your hand to cover your mouth and whimper.

Diavolo smiled. Leaning back to he could see your face, pausing. “We don’t want to wake anyone else up now would we?”

You shook your head and moved his hands to rest on his shoulders.

“Good, Good~” he quietly praised.

Taking resume, he placed his hands under your highs and lifted you as he thrusted up inside you.

The water of the spring created waves with each thrust he gave. Water splashing out the sides of the spring and splashing between their bodies.

He sped up slightly which cause you to cum on him. A gasp leaving your throat and your back arching. He groaned through gritted teeth feeling you clench and pulse around him as you came

He pulled out of you. Changing position. Your knees on the bench and your body bent over the side. Having your ass stick out for him to have full access to your body. Luckily your body was still mainly underwater.

He rubbed your ass giving it a small spank and chuckling at your Yelp.

Feeling as the prince’s hand traveled up your body. His strong hand tracing the dip of your spine. He wanted to study your body. Know every knook and cranny you had to offer. He took hold of your hips and slowly re-entered you. Moaning softly.

Pulling back and pushing in until your hips met. Each thrust he gave would have him scratch and lay perfectly against your sweet spot. Bringing you closer and closer.

The sounds of skin slapping was haulted by sound of the newly created waves crashing between your bodies

You could feel him throb inside you.

He sped up. His thrusts becoming sloppier. Dipping a hand down, around your body to toy with your savory parts.

Whimpers and moans sung from your lips and curses fell from his.

A few more thrusts had you both come crashing down. Pulling his dick out and jacking himself off a little as he came on your back. Using his free hand to finger you to help you come from your high. Like an explosion of fireworks. Building up and up only to release itself so gorgeously.

[piratefalls]

new list, new year, (trying out a) new header, new post day. i'm back after a nice little vacation where i got almost zero reading done, so no one is more surprised by the amount of holiday fic here than me.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six. list seven. list eight. list nine.

No Consequences by AnchoredArchangel

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.

Wash a Bad Day Away by stellarmeadow

Alex has a bad day and needs to drown it in a tub.

this year I will fall by railmedaddy

Henry has many regrets in his life, but leaving the ice rink after a literal run in with the potential love of his life without even obtaining his name may be his biggest. With his family visiting for the holidays for the first time and ever-present work deadlines looming, he's too busy to think about how to engineer his own happy ending worthy of the novels he edits. But what if fate has other ideas?

the mountchristen pharma job by coffeecatsme

The alarm blares. Still, the man slides the key again and enters the room. He closes the door behind him, flips the flash drive in his palm. Walks to the room that’s supposed to be empty, the room they made sure was clear before they made their move. Except it’s not. And the man recognizes that head of blonde hair all too well. Henry fucking Fox-Mountchristen. Six years ago, Mountchristen Pharma's reckless actions caused Rafael Luna's death. Alex and June want to make it right, but they're not the only ones.

Take a Trip Into My Garden by @sparklepocalypse

Alex groans. From the sound of things, he’s in no better state than Henry. “Why in the absolute fuck does your family have a fucking Viagra orchid?” (A sex pollen fic that takes place on the grounds of Kensington Palace between the Cornetto scene and the interview blitz.)

you could call me babe for the weekend by weather_stained

It's been three years since Ellen Claremont lost the 2016 Presidential Election, and Alex hasn't seen Prince Henry since the Rio Olympics. When Alex, June, and Nora take a post-finals trip to a Vermont ski resort, Henry and his best friend Pez are the last people they expect to see waiting in line for the chairlift.  To Alex's great displeasure, Nora and June end up quite takenwith Pez, and Alex is forced to spend time with Henry. In one weekend, they become closer than he could have ever imagined.

come away with me by rizcriz

Alex closes the door behind himself and turns into his tiny apartment with an exhausted sigh. As he turns to flip the lightswitch, the subtle sound of fabric rustling hits his ears; carefully, he unclips his gun at his waist band, flips the light switch, and turns around, pulling the gun on the intruder. He nearly drops it at the sight of a familiar head of shining blond hair. “What the fuck?” Alex asks, taking a step in, and reaching with his free hand into his holster for the pair of cuffs he knows he clipped in this morning. “Intel said you were in London.” Henry Fox, international thief and conman, tilts his head where he’s sitting in Alex’s favorite armchair. “Honestly, Alex,” he says, waving a hand. “Put the gun away. We both know you’re not going to shoot me.” “Fuck you,” Alex hisses on impulse. “Put your hands up.” -- or Con Man Henry and Interpol Agent Alex

(Dil)Do It Yourself by happinessofthepursuit

“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What's on My Mind) by affectionatelyrs

Alex hums, turning around to pull open the freezer drawer. “You want anything?” But Henry barely registers his question. Not when Alex is slightly bent over, allowing Henry a perfect view of his perfect ass. Each individual ridge of his spine is visible due to his lack of shirt. All of these things combined would normally be a large enough issue in itself to render Henry dumbstruck, except— Except, that’s not the only thing that Henry’s faced with. Right there, clear as day: blue lace, delicately peeking out from the waistband of his joggers. Henry’s hand immediately flies up to his cheek. The skin is hot to the touch, and he feels the imprint of where the material once lay like a brand. - Or, With the help of a white elephant gift, Henry learns that maybe the whole being-in-love-with-his-roommate thing isn’t as one-sided as he thought

i've forgotten if they're green or they're blue by metacrisis

When the worst snowstorm New York city has had since the Great Blizzard of 1947 snows Alex and Henry into their Brownstone, Alex falls into a bizarre dream and awakens in a world much like his own. Only it seems like he's suddenly five inches shorter, five years younger and why is Henry the only person who can tell? AKA, Movie Alex falls into Bookverse before he and Henry get together.

Ho for the Holidays by @whimsymanaged

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.

Waiting in the Wings by DracoWillHearAboutThis

Henry had always known he would end up in an arranged marriage.  He had not expected, though, to end up in an arranged marriage with Prince Alex Claremont-Diaz, who he'd secretly been in love with for the past fifteen years.

Fill My Stocking by songliili

Alex has spent the past fifteen minutes talking with David about his favourite treats. Not that the dog answered, but Alex was undeterred and kept going, uncaring that Henry had asked him to give him an hour and then he’d join him in hanging up fairy lights and mistletoe everywhere. Very well. If Alex wants Henry’s attention, he'll have it. It's probably not what Alex thought he’d accomplish with his little scheme, but it's a compromise between Henry's needs and Alex's wants, and that's all that can be done. OR: Alex wants some attention and Henry has to get creative.

Here With Me by SatinBirds

When Zahra asks, “Would it make any difference at all if I told you not to see him again?”, it’s the easiest thing for Alex to categorically answer, “No.”

because it's Tuesday by headabovethewater

Right, so, here’s the thing; Alex hasn’t shaved in a while. He’s been so consumed by stress for his exams, his thesis, the post-election work he’s been doing for Ellen… It’s been a bit much for Alex, and while Henry is impressed by the fact that he’s able to keep himself standing and functioning, he has noticed that the scruff on his face has increased. A lot. Oh, Henry has noticed, alright.

i want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) by violetbaudelairequagmire

To: alex@biconicink.com From: hjfox@rocketmail.co.uk Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!

Can't Buy Me Love by everwitch

Alex is a high end escort. Henry is his wealthiest client. He's also a total asshole, which Alex has zero patience for. He'd never let a client walk all over him like that, not even one with striking features and an air of firm authority that Alex has to keep reminding himself he’s not attracted to. But over time, Alex learns there's more to Henry than fiery insults and cruel dismissal. So much more. Alex is in so much fucking trouble. He should end things with Henry before he gets burned. (He couldn't end things with Henry if he got paid for it.)

He Was Here With Me by absoluteaudacity

Arthur lives: a wishlist

(Door)Dash to the Heart by bleedingballroomfloor

The man looks up when Henry opens the door. "Henry?" Henry clears his throat. "That's me," he manages. "Cool," the man says. "You're making me hungry for breakfast with this order, man. Which is bad for me, because my breakfast is usually just coffee, and there's no way I can drink that this late." "Uh," Henry says. He's pretty sure dashers don't talk this much during orders. "Anyway," the man says, handing the bag of food to Henry, "enjoy your night." Five times Henry gets late-night food from his insanely hot DoorDasher Alex, and one time they get food together at a normal time.

(here's my number) so call me, maybe by villageidiot

"I could go a few days without contact, you know." Henry looks over at Alex, who's splayed across the couch, and places a finger on the page he's reading to keep his place. "I'm…sorry?" "While you're gone, I mean. I could handle a few days of not talking to you." Henry still looks a little baffled. "Is this something you want to do? I'm still unclear on the 'why' here." And so is Alex, honestly. or: five times Alex fails at the whole "go a whole weekend with no contact" thing (and one time Henry does)

the beagle, the ghost and the wardrobe by stutteringpeach

Henry’s new flat comes with one unexpected feature: it’s already inhabited. But not by a human. By a ghost.

Night Class by OrchidScript

Alex how found the simplest solution for all the facts he had been presented. There were plenty of them to make sense of. Alex was taking the path of least resistance, accepting that whatever remained after all was stripped away must be the truth. June could laugh at him for the rest of time if she wanted. He was right. He knew he was right. He had to be right because nothing else on earth or in the universe made sense. Henry Fox — his smarmy, entitled, wealthy, bland, irritating neighbor — was a vampire. Alex knew it. He could prove it.

Piss-up in a brewery by clottedcreamfudge

"I hate this," Alex says, not for the first time, and Henry covers his face with his hands. "Yes," he says, a little muffled, "that's coming across." "It's not, like, personal," Alex clarifies, even though it fucking is. "I just don't really like sleeping with other people. I mean, sleeping in beds with other people. I like having sex-" "Yes, alright," Henry says peevishly, not moving his hands at all. "You needn't extol further on your love of intercourse." "Who the fuck talks like that?"

Sleepless Nights by stripyjumpers

Henry's insomnia has been getting worse. He thinks it's fine, until it all finally catches up to him.

move fast (and keep quiet) by HypnosTherapy

Henry’s smile goes slightly strained at the edges. In his ear, Nora hisses at Alex to walk away. He firmly ignores her. “What brings you here tonight, Foxy?” Henry brushes Alex’s hand off him. “The same thing that brings us all here,” he answers. “Not only a girl’s best friend, after all.” -- Alex is a spy tasked with securing a case of diamonds being auctioned off by black market smugglers. Henry is a rival spy who happens to be tasked with receiving the same case of stones. When Henry wins the auction, Alex has to retrieve his target, no matter the cost.

Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured by myheartalive

“Fox,” he hisses through his teeth. “How about you take the tube tonight? Or go for a nice long walk?” Henry’s stunned. “Excuse me?” “Yep, I will excuse you. Now do us both a favour and find another way to get home.” — OR enemy co-workers Henry and Alex get unwillingly shoved into a cab together (and finally sort their issues out)

the best intentions by smc_27

He sees the flyer when he’s in town picking up the fabric and books June wanted from the market. Once a year. On the prince’s birthday. The chance for his one true love to rescue him from the tower. A cash prize to go along with the prince’s hand in marriage. The title of Prince Consort and a palace of their own. Alex knows himself. He knows how people are with him. He’s made people fall in love with him without even trying for it. He’s had to break hearts since he was 15 and Charlotte Marks told her father she was going to marry Alex. He can get some cloistered prince on board.

A Life, in Names by th0ughts

Macsomething continues to flounder. “I arrived just as someone came out, you see. A woman, with the hot pink jacket? I told her that I’m Roy Maclanahan—” (bingo. Henry knew it was Maclanahan.) “—here for Mr. Claremont-Diaz, I work with him you see. He invited me over, to look through some documents? And she told me that I was in luck, that he was home.  “Either way I am so sorry to have disturbed you your hi—Henry. She must’ve been mistaken. I’ll take my leave and return when your husband’s arrived.” Maclanahan is wringing his hands and looks just about a second away from nervously combusting but the entire ordeal has Henry’s face blooming in a smile.  _____ Musings of a life, in four surnames.

In my dreams (In your dreams) by lizzie_bennetdarcy

He opens his mouth to tell Alex it's fine, they can stay, when Alex shakes his head. "The room is spinning. That's not fun. Alright, sweetheart, let's go home." He jumps up from the stool, and immediately lists sideways into Henry. "What will it take to get you to carry me home?" "More than you're prepared to give, I'm afraid." Kiss me, marry me, have my children, please. Alex is very drunk, and very affectionate, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Henry to pretend like he isn't completely in love with him.

when he breaks so beautifully by viciouslyqueer

Henry thinks it’s just been a rough day – it certainly wouldn’t be the first time – but he only realizes just how wrong he is when his boyfriend actually gets home. Slumped shoulders. Twitching fingers. Red-rimmed eyes glistening with tears. Henry’s heart breaks on sight. — Alex has a rough day at work and asks Henry to be mean to him. Henry praises him instead.

Twenty Seven Batters by politics_and_prose

A ballplayer will refuse to stop playing because they want one more hit, steal, strikeout. One more homerun. One more win. So they get old and they lose their skill and embarrass themselves long after they should have hung up their spikes. If that’s the rule, then Alexander Claremont-Diaz is the exception. Because today, at age 38, Alexander Claremont-Diaz is six outs away from a perfect game.

forever yrs, for evermore by indomitablelove

‘Wake up,’ Henry whispers. Alex turns and squints his eyes open. He looks at the clock. ‘Baby, why the fuck are you waking me up at six am? I’m on vacation.’ ‘I’ve got a surprise, come outside. You can go back to bed after, I promise,’ Henry tells him with a smile. ‘I’ve made you coffee.’ Alex sits up with a squint and a stern, unimpressed look on his face. ‘You better have a fucking good reason for getting me up at sunrise.’ --- or, a lake house proposal fic

Aged Like a Fine Wine by allmylovesatonce

At a gala for the Okonjo Foundation, Senator Alex Claremont-Diaz runs into Prince Henry of Wales for the first time in two years. Something is different about him, and it's not just the revelations that came out the last time the two saw each other. When they're encouraged to spend more time together, it lights a spark that could send both of their lives into a tailspin. Will Alex resist the temptation or will he find the courage to pursue what he's wanted far longer than he's let himself acknowledge?

All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by AHistoricDistraction

It has been three years since they were outted and Henry and Alex have finally settled into a groove that works well for them, except for the fact that it feels like they're always having to steal time together. Queen Mary constantly coming up with excuses to get Henry out of public events with Alex isn't helping, and Alex is done with it. After a long conference in Tokyo that Henry couldn't attend, Alex's flight home being delayed is the last straw and he calls Henry to say they need to figure out a better way to do this, to which Henry agrees. But fate has other ideas. Alex's flight goes missing somewhere over the Pacific, no trace of it to be found, leaving Henry and Alex's family struggling to not lose hope while unable to do anything.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, either for author purposes or just to know when these go up! see you next tuesday!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Spencer request: The team meets at a bar after they returning from a case and Spencer comes in looking dramatically different (like a nice new haircut and casual outfit and glasses) and the team / OC lose their minds

YES MAAM 🫡

It wasn’t fair.

Like, sure. Life isn’t fair, and you can’t always be the winner, but this felt personal.

Spencer Reid had agreed to go out with you all one your last night of vacation, causing Penelope to get you all to to commit to coming by signing death threats.

You didn’t even have to answer her text, knowing that the second Spencer said yes to anything, you would be there.

So that’s how you managed to find yourself packed into a booth with Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, JJ, and Emily.

“I just don’t know why Morgan volunteered to drive Spencer. It sounds like a recipe for genocide.” JJ whispered in your ear, causing you to almost spit out the sip of your drink you had just taken.

Hotch eyed the two of you suspiciously before returning to his conversation with Garcia.

But that’s when you looked up, and the world stopped.

Spencer had gotten a hair cut.

And he looked fucking delicious. At least that’s what you said to yourself as your entire body froze on the spot.

He was dressed in a short sleeve button up, with the top button undone, and just these perfect pants that fit him like a glove: truly they were a gift for you at this point since all they did was make you ogle him more.

And of course, he was in his black converse, the pair you had bought him for his birthday last year. You knew because you had gotten the heel embroidered with chess pieces, A king on one heel, and a knight on the other.

But that wasn’t even the best part. The best part was that Doctor Spencer Reid was wearing his glasses.

Maybe you should’ve chickened out and not come because all you could do now was all but chug the rest of your drink, trying to not stare at him.

But you weren’t the only one.

“Damn Spence. Didn’t know you knew how to dress like that.” Jj gave him a little wolf whistle which caused his cheeks to burn red, and Morgan to clap his back and slide into the booth next to Hotch.

“T-Thanks, it was, uh. It was Morgan.” He couldn’t help but fidget with his glasses, not fully used to them. Or that was his excuse. Maybe it was because he was nervous around you. Or maybe it was because you were refusing to look at him.

“Can I…”

You looked over at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “No���I mean.” You rolled your eyes and elbowed JJ’s thigh under the table as she laughed at you. “You don’t have a drink yet, and I need a refill.”

Spencer nodded and licked his lips. “Ye-yeah a drink.”

You smiled at him quickly, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach as the two of you walked towards the bar.

“Y-You, you look really good.” Spencer whispered to you, as you flagged down the bartender, causing you to smile as you ordered yourself and Spencer your respective drinks.

“I’m surprised y/n hasn’t burst into flames yet.” Rossi snickered, clinking his glass in a cheers with Emily.

“Give ‘em two minutes tops.” She held out her hand in faux competition.

“Oh you’re on.”

While they all placed their bets, they failed to notice the way you and Spencer moved closer and closer to one another at the bar, not making any inference of turning back to the table, even though you both had been sipping on your new drinks for a while, lost in each other’s company.