#just because I’m not ready to lose that shirt

[hhghgt]

undercover agents Buck & Eddie

Buck and Eddie were undercover agents on a high-stakes mission, tasked with infiltrating a covert arms deal. Forced to work together despite their clashing personalities, they spent most of their time snapping at each other. The mission had been a disaster, a whirlwind of close calls and chaos, leaving them both battered and bruised but somehow alive. Back at the safe house, the adrenaline still coursed through their veins, making the air between them feel volatile, ready to ignite.

Buck leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath, while Eddie paced across the room like a restless predator, his jaw tight, fists clenching and unclenching as if trying to contain the storm inside him.

“You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?” Eddie snapped, his voice razor-sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

Buck straightened, his eyes narrowing as he met Eddie’s glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie stopped pacing abruptly, pivoting to face him, his expression a mix of anger and exasperation. “do you even think! You just dive in headfirst. You treat every mission like a damn game of chicken.”

Buck bristled, crossing his arms defensively. “I didn’t hear you complaining when it worked,” he shot back, his tone defiant.

Eddie took a step closer, his movements deliberate and charged. “Worked? You made yourself a target! You nearly got yourself killed! You don’t get to gamble with your life like that—not when other people are counting on you.”

The accusation hit Buck like a punch to the gut, but he refused to show it. Instead, he pushed off the wall, his voice rising to match Eddie’s. “What’s your problem, huh? You were fine. I made sure of it. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

He added with a forced smirk. “You think you know me, Eddie? You don’t.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened, and in a flash, he grabbed Buck by the front of his shirt, slamming him back against the wall with a force that rattled the room. The air left Buck’s lungs in a grunt, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond.

“This isn’t a joke, Buck!” Eddie shouted, his voice raw with emotion. His face was inches from Buck’s, his eyes blazing with fury, but beneath the anger was something deeper—fear. “Do you even care that you almost died tonight? Or are you so damn selfish you don’t think about the people who’d have to live without you?”

The words hit harder than Buck expected, cutting through his defenses. He froze, his gaze dropping. “As if there’s anyone who would care,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “But I couldn’t let you get hurt. You’ve got Christopher. You’ve got people who love you. I don’t have that.”

Eddie’s grip on Buck’s shirt loosened, his anger giving way to shock. The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Buck’s confession hanging between them like a storm cloud.

“You’re not invincible, Buck,” Eddie said at last, his voice trembling as he lifted Buck’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “And I can’t—I won’t—keep watching you destroy yourself like this.”

Buck swallowed hard, his throat tightening with unspoken words. “Eddie…” he started, his voice softer now, hesitant. “It’s fine. You don’t have to act like you care. I know you hate my guts.”

Eddie let out a bitter, humorless laugh, stepping back as if burned. “Hate you?” he repeated, running a hand through his hair. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be standing here, yelling at you for almost getting yourself killed. You think I enjoy this? That I don’t care?”

Buck stayed against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. There was something raw and unguarded in Eddie’s voice that left him speechless.

“Just… stop being so reckless,” Eddie muttered, his tone strained and quiet now. He turned away, his shoulders tense, refusing to look at Buck. “Because I can’t—” His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply. “I can’t lose you.”

The vulnerability in Eddie’s words left Buck reeling. He stayed where he was, his breath shallow, the weight of everything sinking in. For the first time in a long time, Buck didn’t have a clever retort, didn’t have the words to fill the silence.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel like something he needed to fix. It felt like something they both needed to understand.

[tojisun]

the apple that rolled over to the tree

!! fluff; f!reader; parenthood!!; simon-centric hehe >:3 // divider by @/plutism!

there is a… kid attached to your hip when simon returns home from a mission, his exhausted body stumbling into the kitchen where he finds you and it.

“what—”

he can’t even fathom the emotion coursing through him at the moment, what with shock triumphing over everything. still, you’d probably need to give him credit for not losing his goddamn mind at seeing a whole child — he couldn’t have been more than two years old with how he’s only three apples tall — clinging to you like a baby koala.

“oh my god, you’re back!” you squeal, unfazed at how dumbfounded your fiance has become, before shuffling close to embrace him.

simon reciprocates the hug anyway.

you step back, your lips still wobbling in your tears as you stare up at him, all awed like you couldn’t believe that he was back and simon wishes he can press his promises to your lips because he will always find a way to come back, he swears on his life, but also—

the child.

“sweetheart?” he begins, soft as to not spook you or the kid. “who’s, uh, who’s that?”

the child shifts, turning his little face from where it was burrowed onto your neck at the sound of simon’s voice. he rests his head on your clavicle, smooshing his already chubby cheek, before the biggest brown eyes that simon’s ever seen stare up at him, all doe-eyed and jarringly innocent, and simon, he—

well, not even babysitting tommy’s kids prepared him for this.

“this is yasha,” you murmur, pulling simon’s attention back to you. “or yakov, or james if he would want an english name.”

the boy reacts to you calling his name, and simon watches as those curious eyes tip up at you in question. you swipe your finger over his nose, the little thing scrunching up at the ticklish feeling, and simon becomes breathless at seeing the unadulterated joy in your face.

it is all parts soft and tender, but also anxious and worried, and simon begins to puzzle out the pieces.

“he’s my foster child. or ours, i guess, now that you’re here.” your voice is so fragile as you reply to him, your hand now beginning to rub soothing nothings on the boy’s back. simon wonders if it’s more to calm yourself down than it is to comfort the boy.

your lips purse, hesitating, and simon waits because while he he’s pieced out what you want to ask, he knows that this is something you would want to truly talk to him about. it is something he knows you have mustered up the courage to bring up so he gives it to you, open and ready, and he hopes that his face and his gait show that whatever it is you would want to say, simon will always support you no matter what.

“si?” you begin, looking heart-wrenchingly small in your worry. “i think i wanna adopt him.”

simon hums, stepping close but also being careful not to crowd yasha, before he curls his arms around you two — his family — and nuzzles his face on your other shoulder. “i’d love that.”

he offers you a smile, and squeezes your arm in comfort, then he watches as the tears come, easily springing up from your eyes. yasha startles, whirling to look up at his mother in worry. simon’s throat constricts at the thought of you being a mother and him, a father; how, now, there is someone else for simon to come home to. someone to fight for.

jesus. he’d need to tell the lads and maybe get wasted as a celebration.

“owies?” yasha asks, chubby fist balling your shirt.

“they’re happy tears, sweetie pie,” you reply, crooning. “i’m just so, so happy.”

yasha hums, nodding, probably already distracted, and simon takes that time to straighten back up. he pushes your hair away from your face, before he pitches forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

yeah, he’s happy too.

.

yasha gets spoiled, not that simon’s complaining given that he’s been the one doing all the spoiling.

“really, si? a new toly?” you ask, arms crossed over your chest in your exasperation.

toly or anatoly, or tory because yasha still can’t speak properly, is the name that yasha gave to all of his new stuffed toys. it all started with a dog plush that simon bought from the supermarket on a whim and gave to the boy. it was laughably quick how yasha had abandoned his blocks to make grabby hands to the toy, before squealing out that name.

the next stuffed toy that yasha received, which was just the softest and roundest penguin plush toy that simon’s ever seen, was also named toly. so was that teddy bear you bought for him. or that reindeer he got for christmas. somehow, every single one had been named toly.

the only thing you and simon can find about toly was that anatoly means sunrise. simon was so sure it was the russian word for animal, because why else would yasha repeat it, but who would have thought that their little fish is so imaginative?

like, of course he’s going to name all of his toys toly because they are as warm as sunrises. see? smart kid.

but this one, this new toly, set off world records. it was a camel plush that simon saw at the airport when he was out, pretending to be a civilian.

(garrick had been assigned with him for that mission, and was quick to spot and mention simon’s on-duty purchase.

“it’s for my boy,” he grunted in reply, forgetting the fact that he’s yet to truly break the news to his squad. garrick had never looked as surprised, and next thing simon knew, the news made its way to their group chat.

price was amiable about the whole thing. mactavish? not so much.

he just about begged to see a picture of yasha — “and yer girl again, if you wouldn’t mind.” — or even visit him. then he invited garrick to come and price invited himself too, so now the guys are going to swing by some time soon.)

when simon gave it to yasha, their boy had stared at it for a solid minute — simon counted — before screaming and then running to snatch the toy from simon’s hold. he hugged the camel close to his person, his little head nuzzling against the plush face of the camel, all the while absolutely vibrating in unabashed excitement.

he picked up thundering footsteps and turned around just enough to see you literally slide into the room. yasha continued to hug the camel, ignorant of the distress he caused, while you looked on in your panic, buzzing with worry because you just heard your boy scream, damn it!

“he’s fine, bub,” simon said before you could ask, and he watched as you came down from your frenzy, your breathing slowing down at the rationalization that if simon was not panicked, then everything’s alright.

then, your eyes landed on the new stuff toy.

“really?” you asked.

in his defence, yasha adores camel-toly.

in your defence, yasha’s room is running out of space for his tolys.

…well, simon does have all that military money. gonna have to spend it on something else, right?

.

[charlie foxtrot]

sriley: link

john2: ????

sriley: new address.

garry: oh? congratulations.

sriley: thanks.

johnp: 👍

.

yasha was shy when saying hi to price, then outright cried when he saw mactavish, which made simon bark out loud in laughter. yasha only stopped sniffling when he saw kyle. in no time, yasha absolutely adored garrick to the point that he would not even let him go.

dinner was prepared and while you called them all to eat, simon ambled out of the kitchen, where he had been helping you, and walked towards kyle and yasha to pick up his son and seat him on his high chair. but yasha had only looked at him, his head tilted in question, before ignoring simon and clinging onto kyle.

hell, he had even let go of camel-toly so that he could use two chubby fists to hold onto kyle. surprised, simon didn’t even know how to react and watched as his sergeant offered him an apologetic smile before carrying his son to the dining room. kyle rounded the table and sat yasha on his high chair, only, yasha made a scene when kyle did so, and he released a lungful of screams and cries, breaking everyone’s eardrums and their hearts.

kyle stood there, worried and confused, and hovered because he did not know what to do. hell, none of them did, and then you walked out of the kitchen, rushing to yasha, and hummed songs to comfort your son.

you crooned when he made grabby hands to be picked up and you did so with no hesitation, your touch soothing the boy into quiet sniffles. but even then, yasha wouldn’t settle down as he wriggled in your arms, short limbs reaching for—

simon glowered.

yasha was reaching for kyle. you were quick to giggle, asking kyle if it was alright that yasha would eat with him, and simon had glared at his sergeant, daring him to deny their son of anything, before reluctantly nodding his approval at kyle’s happy trill of, “of course, ma’am!”

yasha had finally calmed down when you sat him on kyle’s lap, and his boy was even polite enough to actually eat his soft veggies every time kyle beckoned him to open his mouth for a new spoonful.

simon did not startle, but it was close, when your hand landed on his thigh.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, eyes furrowed in your worry.

“yeah,” he remembers replying with, his throat all choked-up because he knows yasha must be excited to have new people to play with, but still, there was something that stung when his boy chose garrick over him.

not that it was kyle’s fault because he is a dear for even doing all that he did for yasha, but simon had hoped that he would always be yasha’s favourite.

too lost in his thoughts, simon had almost missed yasha’s call.

“-ddy? daddy?” yasha asked, startling simon.

it was not the first time yasha called him that, but every time he did, it never fails to make simon melt.

“yeah? what’s up, buddy?”

simon pretended that no one was watching the interaction.

yasha giggled, hiding his food-smeared lips behind his little palms, before turning to use garrick’s front to hide from simon. you snorted, murmuring to kyle how you swear you would wash his shirt before they go, but it’s all buzz to simon because his son — his darling boy — wanted to play with him during dinner.

yasha peeked at him again, before giggling once more when he caught simon’s eyes. this continued on until dinner ended, with simon occasionally miming growling monsters to induce more hearty giggles from his son, and being rewarded with the happiest laughter ever.

simon turned to you, with his heart on his throat, and beamed.

“aww,” mactavish sang from somewhere beside him. “ain’t that adorable— argh!”

simon had swung his arm out and thumped his fist on johnny’s stomach. thank god, yasha had chosen that time to hide his face again on kyle’s stomach.

.

“unca’ john?” yasha asks in a stage-whisper because everyone within earshot just heard him even with his attempt to be quiet. it’s only their training that stopped simon from acting like he’s noticed.

“yeah, bubsy?” john replies, sounding so utterly soft that this version of him is so foreign to simon.

“this tory,” yasha says and simon discreetly peeks to see which toly is being introduced to uncle john — it’s the elephant one.

price gasps theatrically like he hadn’t seen yasha drool all over this elephant toy before, and puffs out, “how cute!”

“mhmm,” yasha says, nodding, then smacks the face of the toy on john’s face. the trunk smooshes against john’s nose, and thank god that elephant-tory is soft because that aim would have been lethal if it wasn’t.

“jesus—” price gasps out.

“language!” simon hisses, and ducks his head back down just before yasha could catch him peeking.

.

yasha is now four and he still gets teary eyed when he sees johnny. simon placates his friend and says it’ll pass soon. maybe.

basically, i wanted to write a fic wherein simon’s reaction to being presented with a child is “what— oh okay, sure why not” and (literally in 20 minutes) “i will kill everything for this child” and so here we are

a simon spinoff - it takes a rampage (to be a dad)

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ a very klutzy christmas ; lh43

➪ summary: something always seemed to go wrong when luke hughes, y/n y/l/n and the Christmas spirit were put in the same place together

➪ warnings: reader is klutzy, being late, forgetting things, running into people (?)

➪ word count: 3.2k

➪ file type: fic - ho ho hockey!

➪ cupid's notes: part of ho ho hockey! i'm so excited for you guys to read this fic, it was supposed to be a four times their christmases were less than ideal but i got carried away with writing this one that i just decided to leave it at this! if you guys want me to write the other three i definitely can, just let me know :)

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Luke c’mon! We have to go, we’re already late.”

She bounced on her feet as she waited to hear the footsteps of her boyfriend, every passing second felt like an eternity. She flicked her eyes down to her watch, groaning at the time it displayed. They were supposed to have left over half an hour ago, and for once it wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend’s family was sitting around their house waiting for them to arrive. 

“Luke, I swear if you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’m going to lose my shit!”

And exactly 30 seconds later she heard the footsteps of her boyfriend climbing down the stairs, pulling his sweater on that was no doubt what she had laid out for him the night before. He jumped off the last step, ruffling his hand through his hair, flashing her a smile, “I’m ready.”

She only stared at him, anger shining in her eyes. Luke simply walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek, giving her an innocent look, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“We were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, probably more now, and you’re over here taking your sweet ass fucking time-”

“Baby calm down, look at me,” He placed his hands on her arms, looking down at her with a comforting smile, “Everything's going to be okay. They’re not going to be mad at you, they’re not going to be mad at all. Well, maybe my mom will be but definitely not at you. Take a deep breath, alright?”

She sighed and ran a shaky hand over her coat, “Fine, but I’m still mad because I have to wear this,” she pulled on her red turtleneck, “because someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Luke’s boyish grin made its way onto his face as he slipped his new sneakers on, moving to open the door for her, “M’lady.”

She stepped through the doorway, making her way down the hallway as Luke trailed behind her, easily catching up to throw an arm around her shoulder and place a kiss on her temple. She softened slightly and looked up at him, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Maybe she was over-stressing just a little bit. It would be her and Luke’s ‘second’ Christmas together, but only her first with his family and it was getting to her head. She had met his family plenty of times before, even spending the summer at the lake house, and spending countless nights at Luke’s old apartment with Jack before he moved in with her. But something about the Christmas energy made her nervous, and something always seemed to go wrong when you put Luke Hughes, y/n y/l/n, and the Christmas spirit together. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to the Hughes’ house was quick and familiar, y/n watching the snow fall with nothing short of amusement and nervousness. Luke’s hand rested on her thigh, emanating a comforting feeling and a warmth that she could only associate with him.

She glanced over at him, watching as he removed his hand from her thigh to make the turn down his parents’ street. He was dressed in one of her favorite sweaters of his, it was a nice dark but muted blue that she always loved on him and the collar of his white dress shirt folded over the neckline. His legs were adorned with one of the many pairs of black jeans he owned and his favorite pair of new white sneakers on his feet. 

Luke looked over at her, a smirk on his face once he caught her staring, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, but thankfully the darkness that settled at only 4:00 pm covered it well. He held out his hand, making a small gesture to get her to place hers in his. Once she did, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it,  “Whatcha lookin’ at pretty girl?”

“You.” Y/n replied in a murmur, curling up in the car seat as best as she could, “I did a good job at picking out your outfit.”

“‘Course you did, why do you think I let you?”

She only blushed more at his response, going back to look out the window just in time to see Ellen and Jim’s house come into view. A new wave of nerves settled over her as they pulled into the driveway. She felt Luke’s hand squeeze hers as he turned the car off, shifting to look at her.

Y/n looked over at him and smiled before glancing in the back seat. Her eyes widened as she saw the lack of her favorite Christmas dish, “Luke!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We forgot the pie.” She groaned, sitting back in her seat and throwing her head back against the headrest, “Fucking hell.”

“Y/n/n it’s okay, they’re not gonna-”

“That’s not the point Luke. I promised your mom I would bring something and now I forgot it.”

Luke’s face settled into a pout at the disappointment that tainted her face. He reached for her hand again, clutching it between both of his, allowing his thumb to rub over her knuckles, “Baby, listen, please. I know how well you wanted today to be, how perfect you wanted it to be. And I understand that them not being mad isn’t the problem.

“But they love you, probably more than me. They’re not going to be upset because you were having to deal with your childish boyfriend.”

She glanced over at his teasing tone, a huge smile on his face once he saw her lips turn up. She only let out a small ‘humph’ before responding, “You’re always making dumb jokes at the most inappropriate times.”

“I’m just trying to get my girl to smile, is that such a crime these days?”

“I suppose not, but you still have to make it up to me.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” A mischievous glint lit in his eye as he leaned closer to her.

“I don’t know.” She murmured quietly before replicating his actions, meeting his lips over the center console.

Luke grinned into the kiss before pulling away and leaving a small kiss on her forehead, “Let’s go, yeah?”

She nodded as she pulled away, climbing out of the car. She pulled her coat tighter around her, watching as Luke opened the trunk and grabbed the presents, stacking them on top of each other.

“Be careful Lukas, you know what happened last year.”

He rolled his eyes, making his way up the front steps after slamming the trunk closed. He knocked on the front door just as y/n walked up beside him, looping her arm through his.

Soon, the door opened and Jim stood in the entry of the house, “Hey you two.”

“Hi, Mr. Hughes!”

Jim took the presents from his youngest son, before gesturing them into the house, “How many times have Ellen and I told you to just call us by our names, Y/n?”

A sheepish grin made her way to her face, stepping inside of the Hughes’ house, and immediately she was met with the comforting atmosphere of the home. She moved to slip off her boots, but Luke’s hand placed on her lower back stopped her, “I got you.”

This only made her face flush more as Luke knelt down and unzipped her boots, sliding them off with ease. Her nervousness didn’t falter, however, slightly stumbling as Luke pulled her into the kitchen where his mom stood, “Hi momma.”

Ellen looked up from what she was doing, smiling much like him, “Hi! Oh, Luke why’d make the poor girl wait to be here? Probably stressed her out a ton.” She pulled her son into a hug, squeezing him tightly as she pestered him.

As she pulled away, she turned her attention to his girlfriend, her smile getting even wider if that was possible, “Hello sweetheart. Thank you so much for coming, we’re so happy to have you.”

Y/n hugged her back, “Thank you for having me! And you’re right, Luke did make me stress.”

The woman only briefly pulled away to swat at her son’s arm, who held his hands up in surrender before making his way over to where his brothers were, whatever that may have been. Ellen finally pulled out of the hug to continue working on the mashed potatoes.

The girl raised up on her toes as a nervous habit, “Do you need any help?”

“If you want to! You can start setting the table if you wish, dear.”

As she grabbed the plates and started setting the table, she released a small sigh before speaking up, “Also, I may have sort of forgotten the pie. I had it in the fridge and then I just got so flustered before we left that I forgot it.”

“Oh honey, it’s okay. I made extra dessert anyways because Jack always eats all of it.”

“I do not. That is extremely hurtful.” Jack walked into the kitchen, hand brushing an invisible piece of fuzz off his shirt, “Quinn helps too.”

He wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, bringing her into a side hug, “And nice to see you y/n/n. Good job at dressing Luke.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his words, a small smirk playing on her lips, “I do try to make sure my boyfriend is dressed nicely. It seems you don’t have anyone to help you.”

He scoffed playfully, “I am wounded. You are supposed to be on my side here too.”

“If you’re going to be in the kitchen, you are going to be helping. Help y/n set the plates- Don’t whine at me, Jack.”

He grumbled, taking a stack of forks into his hands and placing them on the side of the plates. 

“Forks go on the left, Jacky. Knives go on the right, ” Y/n teased, now placing napkins on top of each plate, laughing as she heard another annoyed groan from him and watched his eyes roll.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After a while, dinner was nearing ready, y/n having spent most of the time in the kitchen talking with Ellen and helping out when she could. She wiped her hands on her skirt, trying to rid herself of the sweat that clung to them. 

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom quickly if that’s okay?”

Ellen laughed, “You don’t need to ask to go to the bathroom, hon. Just go, I’ll be fine here.”

She blushed, another wave of embarrassment washed over her as she took in her words, “Right.”

She started walking out of the kitchen, scolding herself softly at her actions, stop embarrassing yourself. She froze halfway out of the kitchen, backtracking once she realized she didn’t actually know where the bathroom was, “Mrs- Ellen? Where exactly is-”

“Down the hall and to your left, baby.” A hand fell on her shoulder and a kiss was placed on her temple. 

She turned to look at who it was, grinning when she saw the familiar face of her boyfriend, a lopsided grin that practically matched her own on his face. He kissed her head again, wrapping her up in a hug. He hadn’t seen her since they arrived, catching up with his dad and oldest brother in the living room as they watched whatever sports game was on. 

“Missed you.” He murmured into her ear, squeezing her a little tighter afterward.

“We’ve only been separated for what? 40 minutes?”

“Doesn’t matter, still missed you.”

They stayed like that for a minute before she reminded him softly that she had to go to the bathroom. He pulled away and walked over to his mom, starting up a conversation about something she had no clue about. She was already heading out of the kitchen and down the hallway when she heard them talk. 

She got halfway to the bathroom, looking down at her feet as she thought to herself, when her head knocked against something, groaning in pain, “Mother fucker-” She blinked the tears away that stung in her eyes, clutching her head. 

Once the tears were cleared enough that she could see, she saw Jack standing there, mirroring her actions with a hand to his head. He had been just heading out of the bathroom when it happened, thoughts also racing in his mind causing him to not look where he was going when he ran into her, heads meeting.

“Fucking hell that hurt.” He exclaimed, rubbing at the spot on his forehead that took most of the impact.

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just trying to ease their rapidly growing headaches. Once they both got it calmed down enough, they stared at each other before letting out laughs of amusement, “We really need to pay better attention to where we’re walking huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t need everyone to stare at my forehead and then explain that the Jack Hughes caused the bump.”

He ushered her forehead, planning to get him and y/n ice packs from the freezer, but when she took a step, black dots clouded at the edge of her vision causing her to stumble, just barely catching herself against the wall. She heard Jack’s curse, leaning into him as an arm came around her waist, “You okay?”

“Dizzy.” She murmured back, closing her eyes and opening them again, hopes of clearing her fuzzy vision failing. 

“Hold on. Luke!”

Y/n winced at Jack’s yell, pain worsening in her head. She could only give a soft nod of acknowledgment at his whispered apology, holding onto him tighter as she felt the overwhelming dizzy feeling wash over her. 

Luke came walking out of the kitchen, eyes drifting down the hallway, “What’re you yelling for?”

His gaze fell upon his brother and girlfriend, huddled together against a wall, a worried expression on the former and a pained one on the other, “What happened? Is she okay?”

He walked briskly to get to the two, immediately taking his girlfriend into his arms, pressing multiple soft kisses to her head, and rubbing her arm up and down, “What’s going on?”

“We knocked our heads together, was going to get us ice packs when she stumbled. Said she felt dizzy.”

“I’m fine, just dizzy like he said.”

Luke shook his head, tucking her into his side safely, walking them back to the kitchen to sit down, “Let’s get you some ice, sweet girl, c’mon.”

He sat her down on a chair, brushing the hair away from her face. He heard Jack mumble something to their mom but his focus was solely on his girlfriend, cupping her face and looking over her head. She winced as his thumb brushed over the point of impact, shaking her head slightly at his apology. 

There was a tap on Luke’s shoulder, Ellen now standing behind him with an ice pack wrapped in a towel in her hand, “Here. Put this on her forehead for ten minutes and then take it off.”

He nodded, taking the ice pack from her and placing it gently on y/n’s forehead. Ellen smiled softly before switching her gaze to the girl, “How’re you doing?”

“Could be worse,” she murmured, blinking slowly to clear her vision again. “Has to be the first time I’ve knocked heads with someone this hard.”

“That’s just because Jack has a big head.” A new voice entered the room and as best as she could, she moved her eyes to find the third Hughes brother.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Would you shut up?” Luke asked exasperated, pressing the ice pack a little harder into his girlfriend’s head as she winced from the noise.

“Sorry.” The two murmured.

“S’okay. Just fight quieter please if you’re going to fight.” She spoke up, leaning into the cold compress.

They nodded taking their seats at the table as they watched their younger brother and his girlfriend. Luke slowly took the icepack away from her head, placing it on the ground next to her chair. He moved the hair that had fallen back into her face, tucking it behind her ear, “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He stands up, placing a kiss on her temple before sitting down next to her. The six of them start eating, easily falling into a conversation about hockey even after the multiple attempts Ellen had to end it. Y/n doesn’t mind it, her head is still pounding and even the thought of thinking about hockey is hurting it more.

She eats the majority of the food Luke has placed on her plate, taking her time and pushing it around slightly. She feels bad, she doesn’t want Ellen to feel like she doesn’t like the food, but it’s hard for her to focus right now and the knocking her head against Jack’s has left her more tired than she was when she arrived.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After dinner, the six of them all clean up, or y/n tries to and then is scolded by Luke and his mom to sit on the chair or go into the living room and lie down. So that’s where she was when Luke came and found her, curled up on one side of the couch, her head resting on the armrest.

“Hey,” he kisses her softly, sitting down next to her, “You want to head out?”

She went to protest, saying they hadn’t opened their gifts or even had dessert yet but the idea of going home sounded really appealing, so she nodded, using Luke’s help to stand up. They walked back to the kitchen, informing everyone that they were going to be heading back home. 

Luke grabbed the small platter of cookies and pieces of pie from his mom, y/n thanking her for him. They then made their way into the foyer where Luke helped her get her boots on, patting each thigh when he was done. 

They said their goodbyes and then walked down the driveway with gifts and dessert in hand, placing them in the backseat before climbing into the car.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I feel better after eating.”

“That’s good.”

He pulled out of the driveway, making their way down the street when he heard her voice, “Can’t believe the first Christmas with your family we show up late, we forget the pie and I knocked heads with your brother.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, did you expect anything less?”

She thought about it, and no she didn’t expect less. Ever since she and Luke met their Christmases had been less than ideal. When they met, she knocked into him at a coffee shop, successfully spilling coffee all over herself and Luke. On their first Christmas together, Luke broke his gift for her, and she had to deal with a flustered and anxious Luke. And now this.

“You’re right. I think we’re just destined to have dumbass Christmases.”

“Hey, at least it’ll be my turn next year. Let’s hope I don’t break something.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

He did indeed break something, his arm. He was setting up Christmas lights around their house, it would be the first one in it. He didn’t know how it happened, all he knew was that one moment he was connecting sets of lights and the next he was on the ground clutching his arm in pain. It was a long night in the ER. 

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[3amfanfiction]

Neighbor Johnny

A new neighbor moved into the house behind yours. He is insistent on being friendly. 2k cw: none

You had a new neighbor, Johnny, who was . . . something else.

He cornered you outside the first time you met him— scaring you half out of your mind.

“Ach lass, dinnae mean ta frighten ye.”

He's handsome, was your first thought, the second—how much you enjoyed the Scottish burr that rolled off his tongue.

As your heart tried to settle back into your chest you turned to face him properly. With a sheepish grin on his face, he had his shoulders hunched forward as if trying to make himself smaller, hands tucked into his blue jeans which clung to his tree-trunk like thighs.

"You're okay, I'm kind of jumpy in general," you laughed shakily, attempting to brush off the fear still lingering in your veins. "Sorry, what was it you asked?"

"I was sayin' I jus' moved into the unit behind ye," he pointed to an apartment that was the mirror image of yours, "and I dinnae ken where's good ta eat. Ye wouldn't happen ta have any suggestions, would ye?" A boyish smile curled up his lips, blue eyes squinting in the sun.

As you asked him what he was in the mood for you never noticed the laser focus he kept on you, taking in your every word, every shift, every breath. Every moment memorized.

///

The next time he bumped into you he was on his way back in from a run and you were taking out the trash.

Of course you would see him again when you were in ratty, baggy shorts and a 2 sizes too big t-shirt with a sauce stain from dinner last night on the collar, the socks in the sandals were the finishing touch on your ensemble.

And then here he came, shirtless in a pair of running shorts, thickly muscled legs leading down to worn-in tennis shoes. You wanted to bite those thighs.

Sweat was dripping down his face when he saw you, eyes lighting up in the early morning air. He course corrected your way, slowing his jog incrementally.

Why was life this unfair?

"Mornin' birdie, aren't ye a vision," smiling ear to ear, he came to a stop right in front of you, lifting a hand up to drag across his face, clearing the beads of sweat. You resolutely ignored looking at his chest, covered in a thick mat of dark, curling hair. It was damp with exertion and you yanked your eyes back up to his when you noticed you were following a droplet as it trailed from behind his ear, running down his neck, past his collar bone—

Hurriedly laughing off his joke you finished tossing the trash into the bin, "Good morning Johnny, I hope everything's been going good?"

Johnny took this as license to begin telling you all about his week, from the grocery store being out of his favorite pastry, I was plumb heartbroken hen, the lady behind the counter gave me tissues when she saw me tearin' up, to his footie team losing the match, and then because of the bet, ye remember, I had ta do the whole course naked as the day I was born. The splinters, ye see—

It was a good 20 minutes before you were able to get away.

"Well," you said, dusting off your hands like you hadn't tossed the garbage bag ages ago, "I don't want to keep you. Have a good one Johnny and I'll talk to you later," you smile as you edged towards your front door, ready to be back in the comfort of your home and away from this ridiculously handsome man who didn't seem to realize how good looking he was.

Or how much he invaded others' space.

“Aye lass, I’ll hold ye ta that,” he allowed, coming in for a damp hug which you returned quickly out of shock. As he stepped back he kept his eyes on yours until he finally turned around.

Creepy.

Almost as creepy as you licking your lips, tasting salt from where they had been pressed up against his shoulder during the hug.

///

It was a few days later when he caught you again, “Running ta the grocery, 's there anythin' ye need?” He was standing at your front door, where he'd knocked great booming thuds against the wood just moments prior.

“Oh no, I’m good, thank you though Johnny," was this weird? Or were you making it weird by thinking it was weird? He was only being neighborly, why are you so against him being friendly? He hasn't done anything wrong.

“Surely there’s somethin' yer runnin' low on," he tries. "Lotion? Batteries? Soap?”

You laughed at the random combination, charmed despite yourself at the sight of his roguish grin and bright eyes.

"As a matter of fact, I did just use the last of my butter this morning," you threw him a bone—allowing him this. You missed the way his face got sharp for a moment before evening back out.

"Aye, I can handle that," orders received, commencing operations.

"I'll be back 'fore ye know it, hen," was tossed out over his shoulder as he headed out, no more flirting, no lingering, no sidelong glances. If you would've known it was this easy to get rid of him you would've sent him on assignments long before now.

You brushed it off and headed inside, door closing with a soft click before you locked it.

///

In no time at all you heard a knock knock coming from the front. Opening the door you're surprised when Johnny breezed right in, as if it was his right.

"Hi hen, I'm back."

You're not sure how he talked his way around seeing your home. He must have a golden tongue of some sort because it's like he started talking and you find yourself pulled under his sway, helpless but to follow along. Weren't you trying to keep your distance?

“How long have ye lived here, then? ’S lookin' a little bare” he said, gaze running over the empty walls.

You gave an embarrassed shrug, “A few months but I’m not exactly the most . . . handy of people,” here you gestured to the television that was mounted on the wall a touch too high.

When Johnny followed your lackluster waving to look at the screen, he couldn't help but bark out a laugh.

The TV was — well. It was on the wall and that’s about all that could be said for it. “I didn’t mean to mount it that high. It just kind of happened,” you said haltingly, embarrassed at the look he was giving you. Your cheeks must have been 200 degrees, “—and it was such a pain to get the screws in the first time that I just," you shrugged, "left it.”

“Ye have ta practically lay flat on yer back ta watch it!” Johnny exclaimed in astonishment. You buried your face in your hands, unable to keep his gaze any longer.“It’s fine! I’ll fix it. Eventually," you allow. "I just haven’t needed to yet.”

“Nah, I’m nae gonna have ye puttin' up with this. I’m busy today but I’ll be by early tomorrow mornin', ya hear?”

You tried to argue, insisted that he didn't need to fix it. He didn’t listen and steamrolled right over you.

\\\

The next day he was back at your house, making good on his promises. He didn't bring any tools over, using what you had to correct your mistake. That would have been perfectly fine if he would just. Stop. Talking.

"Ach, look at how prepared you are, dove. You've got the whole kit then, don't you?" He looked over your, honestly not-that-impressive tool kit with a discerning eye. Reaching in for what he needed he nodded his head at you with a condescending wink, "haven't you done so well."

After that you found yourself fluttering around him; offering him help, a drink, anything he needed.

Johnny put his hands on your shoulders. physically stopping you, "Sit down, beautiful, you donnae need to be faffin' about like this. Get comfy on the couch and just sit there lookin' pretty for me, yeah?”

Oh—you're not—that's not something—

You didn't say anything, you couldn't say anything. Instead you did what he told you, taking a seat on the couch and talking to him while he worked.

He adjusted the TV to a more acceptable height embarrassingly easy. What had taken you an hour to do incorrectly he had fixed in fifteen minutes. You stood to thank him, assuming you would be leading him out of the house shortly.

So how did you end up sitting back on the couch, watching a movie with your neighbor pressed all up against one side?

He was characteristically persuasive when he convinced you watching a movie was necessary to make sure all the connections worked right, seeing as how he'd had to unplug everything when he pulled it from the wall to fix your mishap. He had tugged you back into your seat and sat close beside you, pulling up a streaming service and selecting a movie you hadn't heard of before.

As he settled in to get comfortable with an arm thrown around the back of the couch you decided there wasn't really a whole lot for it and settled in yourself to watch the movie.

That was an hour ago and you were regretting your decision fiercely.

The movie Johnny had chosen was a dramatic romance with plenty of R rated scenes. There was one playing out across the screen currently and you were trying to be subtle as you squirmed, rubbing your sticky thighs together as the female lead moaned enthusiastically for the male lead eating her out on the kitchen table.

You probably could have restrained yourself if not for Johnny unabashedly rubbing his chubbing cock through his jeans. He had shifted and pulled his arm off the backrest but he was still pressed to you from shoulder to knee. You didn't realize what was happening at first until you glanced away from the screen after the lead's second orgasm and realized where his hand had crept.

He didn't look at you as he palmed himself—he kept his eyes firmly locked to the screen. It was almost as if he didn't realize he was doing it. Should you say something or just leave it? If no one drew attention to anything does that mean no one gets embarrassed?

Thankfully the scene ended soon and Johnny stood up with an excuse of using the bathroom, leaving you to get a grip on yourself. As he stepped inside the room he must have been a little too wound up because he failed to close the door properly, leaving it cracked just enough for the sound of skin rasping on skin as he touched himself to echo out into the living room.

After what felt like ages you heard the water running as he washed his hands. Shortly afterwards he was back on the couch, arm slung behind you once more.

There were no more heated scenes before the movie ended which was a relief. This time Johnny didn't argue as you led him to the door, simply told you he would be back the day after tomorrow to help with other handy-man items he had seen while he was there.

With an exasperated eye roll you agreed and told him you'd see him then, unable to help smiling back sweetly when he beamed at you before he headed home.

A short while later you went to the bathroom when you noticed your conditioner sitting on the back of the toilet, cap ajar, when you were sure you had left it on the lip of the tub. You frowned as you picked it up and looked at it curiously before you fixed the cap and placed it where it belonged. When you went to wash your hands you noticed your toothbrush sat on the counter. That was strange, it had been hours since you brushed your teeth, why was it still wet?

Next

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[luxaofhesperides]

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 

They’ll never get to meet. 

Duke had never felt so alone before. 

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow? 

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 

“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 

“Man, what a day.” 

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

[hellishjoel]

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?) 

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.   “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.  He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist. 

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

[freedomfireflies]

Insatiable You*

Summary: The second part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry wants to know more about these smutty books you read. And maybe have a bit of fun, too.

Word Count: 5.8k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, Sir Kink

“Begin.”

“Harry—”

“Begin,” he repeats. Stern. Final. “I’m not gonna ask you again, Kitten. This is what we agreed on, yeah? Said you would. So go.”

Your hands shake as you hold the book against your chest. You nod quickly, eager to please him, and you feel relieved when he smiles. 

You open the novel and flip to the bookmarked page. You can feel him watching you from his place between your legs and you attempt to cover your face with the pages before he’s quickly—and easily—pushing the book back down.

He gives you a certain look that makes you swallow, and you nod again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“S’okay,” he says. He’s trying not to smile. “But I wanna see you. You know that.”

You swallow for a second time and flick your attention back to the page. “So…just…anywhere?”

He hums. “Anywhere.”

You straighten up and clear your throat. “Damien was quiet as he entered Elizabeth’s bedroom. He could see her laid out in wait. Her familiar silhouette illuminated in the gentle light of the moon. He’d know her anywhere.”

You glance at Harry. He’s smirking. Intrigued. And you feel your cheeks warm as you look back to the story. Even if it’s not inherently smutty yet, you know it’s coming.

“He walked closer, careful not to disturb her peace as he made his way into her space. Pulling the soft blanket away from her hips to reveal the silk nightgown underneath.” You take a deep breath. You feel Harry squeeze your ankle. “He…he could see her glistening cunt beneath the sheer fabric. She’d been waiting for him. Working herself up in anticipation for his return. So it would be easier for him to take her once he arrived.”

As you read, you feel Harry’s fingers travel up the length of your leg and toward the large shirt resting around your hips. He pulls it back to reveal your glistening pussy. Equally as worked up as the one in the story.

You hesitate, embarrassed and enamored, before he nods once to reassure you. He’s far too amused to let you stop now. After all, this was your deal. You would read, he would reenact.

Your insides twist as you continue. “She stirred the moment his cold fingertips made contact with her warm skin. Still, he was gentle. He stroked and he pulled and he situated her where he wanted her. She was good. Quiet. Allowing herself to be moved without so much as a whimper.”

In turn, Harry’s large hands tighten around your hips. Tugging you away from the headboard and closer to his face. You gasp and clutch the book as though it’ll save you, but nothing can save you now.

“Go,” he murmurs and it’s anxious. He knows what’s coming and he knows he can’t begin until Damien does.

You continue. “Her body greeted him the way it always did. It was warm to the touch and seemed to call to him like a siren. Luring him closer until he had no choice but to take a taste.”

Harry scoots closer. Ready.

“His tongue flattened against her and he savored her need until he was short of breath. Licking and nipping at her until she awoke and cried out his name—”

However, you lose the rest the moment Harry’s tongue drags up your cunt and settles against your clit. And you decide that this is much better than reading alone because this is infinitely more vivid than the image in your head. Better than Damien, better than your own hand, better than a toy.

And Harry is beautiful. With his sharp, strong jaw that somehow looks sharper with the way he mouths at you. With his curls that are falling against his forehead and with the muscles that flex whenever he tightens his hold on your legs.

You drop the book onto your stomach and whimper, “Harry—”

He stops. Looks up. 

“Sir,” you correct quickly. “Sir, please—”

“Keep reading,” he nearly grunts. He juts his chin toward the novel. “Go.”

Your fingers are trembling as you lift the book back up. He expects too much of you when his tongue is lapping at your body the way it is. “He did not waver. She was sensitive from whatever ministrations she had practiced before he arrived, but he carried on. He pulled…he pulled her clit between his teeth and gave her something to cry about.”

Harry follows suit and your eyes roll back. He’s perfect, considering he’s only done this once before. But he knows how to treat you, how to touch you, how to taste you. Better than anyone ever has. He’s insatiable and determined. 

“He swallowed her down like a man dying of thirst,” you read through strained, shallow breaths. “She was his vixen. His wet, perfect little dream. Already pulling him closer by her warmth—shit—”

He smacks your thigh. Wrong. You keep reading.

“She pulled his hair and brought him closer. She lived within his lungs. He didn’t want the air she hadn’t touched. He wanted every drop that was wasted on the sheets below. The drops that belonged to him. Because her taste belonged to him. Always.”

Harry’s fingers curl around the backs of your thighs before he lifts them up. Creating more room and space for him to work. And he does. He takes and he groans and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit. More intimate than you were expecting and you gasp before the book drops.

“No,” he seethes against your pussy. He licks harder, sucks faster. “Keep going.”

“Harry—”

“Go.”

You can hardly see the words through the haze in your eye. They’re melting off the page, blurring together. Still, you try. You obey. “Damien teased her with his finger. He knew she could take him, but he needed to hear her beg.”

In turn, the tip of Harry’s finger begins to smooth through the wet folds beneath his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself clench at the very thought of him sliding inside. The anticipation almost dreadful. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes find yours. “Beg me.”

Your breath catches. “Harry—”

He slaps your clit. Hard. “Beg me,” he repeats. “Fucking beg me, baby. Beg me to touch you. Beg me to stretch you. Beg me to fuck this cute little hole until you’re coming all down my hand.”

You clutch the paperback novel so hard, you feel it dent. “Harry—”

“Sir,” he corrects sharply. There’s something virile in his eye. A step past insatiable. Depraved. Like a wild animal with his prey. 

And you aren’t afraid. You aren’t embarrassed or ashamed. Because you understand this hunger. It's the same hunger you felt after days of not being with him. Of knowing he was with Rebecca while you were alone with your pillow. Knowing he fell asleep in her arms instead of yours. 

It's not just some itch you need scratched. It's him. His technique, his aurora, his presence. Mind, body, soul. Him. Nobody else will ever do it for you the way he can. Not even Damien.

“Beg me,” he repeats from below, ravenous attention locked on you. “Beg me, Kitten…and I’ll give it to you.”

You hold the book in one hand and his curls in the other. “Please,” you exhale. It’s airy and faint, but filled with a kind of desperation you know he understands. “Please, Sir. Please touch me. Please…it hurts.”

He hums and swipes his tongue over your clit. Teasingly. Temptingly. He thinks. “Does it?”

You nod quickly. “Anytime I’m not with you, it hurts. Please…nobody else can fix it.”

There’s a soft smile on his glistening lips. One you almost don’t catch through the tears in your lashes. “Nobody, hm?”

You shake your head.

“Have you been trying to find somebody else, Kitten?” He nips at you again. “Have you been going around, trying to give away what’s mine?”

Your eyes widen and your skin warms. You hate how much you love the possessive undertone. Even if he doesn’t mean it. “Never.”

He looks back up. “Do you promise?”

You swallow. You do promise, even though the truth is…you aren’t his. And you don’t imagine you ever will be. Still, you whisper, “I promise.” 

And you mean it. More than anything.

Satisfied, the tip of his finger begins to push you open. Stretching the warm, quivering walls that are anxious to draw him in, effortlessly easing the ache in your stomach.

You let out a relieved sigh that makes him smirk and you adore his smugness. More than you should.

“Keep reading,” he repeats yet again while thrusting his finger in and out at a deviously slow pace.

The book shakes as it’s brought back up. “She…she pulled his hair and whispered his name. And he’d never heard something so beautiful. Her mouth was good for many things, but moaning his name was perhaps Damien’s favorite.”

Harry kisses everywhere he can. Your cunt, your thighs, your hip. Pulling at the skin and sucking it until it’s bright red and swollen before soothing it gently with his tongue.

“She was trembling beneath him,” you read. “She was sensitive and ready to give him her second orgasm. And he was ready to take it—”

“And are you ready, baby?” Harry says to you now. His grin is mischievous as he awaits your response. Because he knows you are. Knows that you were a good girl, that you did your homework and obeyed his instruction. That you touched yourself before he arrived, exactly like Elizabeth had. 

You let out an unsteady breath and nod once. “Yes.”

“Good. Keep going."

You go back to your novel. “When she came, she was loud. Her naked body gleamed beneath her nightgown, covered in those dewy beads of sweat that made his mouth water. He wanted to run his tongue up and down every inch of her. To taste her, fully. To have her inside of him the way he was desperate to be inside her.”

Harry suddenly crawls up your body and begins to drag his tongue along your shaky stomach. A trail of saliva follows in the wake of his mouth and you can’t help but whimper as you watch him move toward your chest. 

“Read,” he murmurs against your left tit, leaving you no choice but to oblige. 

“When the light found her eyes, he saw what she really wanted,” you continue. “She pulled on him again and pleaded, ‘Damien, please. I can’t wait.’ So, he took himself from her swollen cunt and pressed his mouth to hers. He gave her a taste of herself and she swallowed it all, gladly—”

And before you can even ready yourself, Harry is taking your lips with his and sucking. Biting. Having. Feeding that hunger until you melt beneath him. Giving you the same taste Damien gave Elizabeth.

His tongue feels good against yours and the sensation is unfathomable. But not because of you...because of him. 

He knows you can’t read very well like this, but he doesn’t mind. He draws back and holds your jaw in his palm until you open your mouth in acceptance. And then…he spits. Right down your throat, as though every drop belongs to you.

And you swallow it all. Gladly.

His kisses eventually move back down before he instructs you to finish the scene. And you struggle your way through it, despite how anxious you are to reach the end. “Her pussy welcomed him in and it felt like coming home. He held her throat in his hand and whispered, ‘Tell me, my love. Tell me what you did while I was away. Tell me exactly how you touched yourself as you waited.’”

You feel Harry nudge his nose underneath your chin before he says, “Go on, baby. Tell me.”

You close your eyes and allow the memory to find you. “I thought of you,” you tell him softly. Quietly. You’re embarrassed again and you don’t know why. “Thought of how you knew what I was doing while I did it.”

You feel him smile against your throat.

“Thought about what you told me to do,” you continue. “How…how you told me to take good care of your pussy until you got here.”

He hums and it seems to vibrate through the fingers still pumping inside your cunt. “And you did, didn’t you?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Tell me how.”

Another mesmerized inhale. “I was here,” you whisper. The noise he makes this time is greedier. “I was here and I…I remembered how you looked last time. I thought of you, and I…I tried to do what you would do.”

He grins a bit wider and it makes your chest swell. “Is that right, Kitten?”

“Mhm.” You clutch the book to keep from writhing. “And I moaned your name when I came. Knew I couldn’t come for anybody else. Didn’t want to.”

He nuzzles his face in your shoulder and groans. “God, you’re gonna fucking kill me, baby. You know that? My ego’s already too big.”

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly. “But it should be. You’re so good, Harry. Couldn’t wait to see you. Think I came just picturing you walking through my door.”

He leans back now and your heart drops. Perhaps that was a bit too honest. Too intimate. Especially considering that he’s still not yours to have.

He studies you a moment and you wait. Timidly. Preparing yourself for the disappointment that might follow his reply.

Then, he dips down, and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You’re too good to me,” he exhales. It sounds heavy. Scared. Sweet. “I don’t deserve you, Kitten. I hope you know that.”

You drop the book and take hold of the curls against the back of his neck. You squeeze them tight in your fist as you shake your head. You hate the resolve in his voice. “That’s not true. I’m just…here. I’m just me. You’re the one going out of your way to help me.”

Another smile but it’s softer. Sadder. “I think you’re helping me more than I’m helping you.”

You lift up and kiss him. “We’re helping each other,” you decide. “For as long as we can.”

When he kisses you back, you feel limitless. “Good.” He smacks his other hand against the outside of your leg. “Now, finish the chapter. We’re just getting to the good bit.”

You nearly whine but you do obey. Flipping through the pages until you find where you last left off. “Elizabeth looked at him, unabashedly. ‘What would you have liked me to do?’ she asked. Her voice was a silky purr. ‘How would you have liked me to touch myself without you? Would you have liked me to be soft and tender? Or would you have liked me to be just as hard and relentless as you?’”

Harry listens carefully, kissing a trail along down your chest while his fingers begin to work you closer. He knows you’re only moments away. Somehow, he always knows.

“‘Would you have preferred that I soak our sheets? Would you have liked to see the aftermath of my lust for you?’ She dragged her nails down his back. ‘Or do you like to know that I cannot touch myself the way you touch me? That my body does not respond to my hand the way it does yours?’”

Suddenly, he adds a third finger and your mouth instantly drops open. It starts to unravel before you can stop it and when he thrusts to the knuckle, you see those stars again. The same stars that brought him to you.

“Harry,” you gasp. You clutch his hair and his tongue dives forward. “Shit, Harry, wait—”

You come but he doesn’t stop. Damien might have, but Harry is most certainly not Damien. He flicks and sucks and pumps until you begin to cry. Until your legs are shaking on either side of his head and you’ve nearly yanked the curls from his skull.

Still, he pushes you toward a second—or rather, a third. And it’s far too quick for your liking.

“Har…shit, Harry, please—” You squirm and you fight against the almost painful pleasure radiating between your legs. “Hurts…hurts, Harry, please—”

“Don’t care,” you vaguely hear him murmur before he’s nipping at your clit again. “Again.”

Your cheeks are soaked and your fingers move from his curls to the bed beneath. You clutch the sheets and arch from the mattress, but he shoves you back down.

“Again,” he says. He slaps your pussy and you mewl. “You’ve done it before. Know you can do it again. Be good for me, come on. Be fucking good.”

And it’s almost sinister but it works. You come for a third time and your body feels wrecked. Ruined. Spent. You lose yourself in the sensation and by the time you find yourself again, he’s pulling his cock out and lining himself up.

“Read,” he demands next. He nods at the book. He’s determined to see this through. “Go. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Told me you used to fuck yourself to these books, so I wanna fuck you to them, too. Wanna show you how much better the real thing is. So fucking read it, baby.”

You mindlessly reach for the novel beside you and drag it back open. You know he’s right and you plan to rush through the rest of the chapter so you can throw the book away and never open it again.

“When he pushes in, his breath becomes hers,” you whisper. “Her cunt accepts his cock and molds to it. And he knows, undoubtedly, that her pussy was made for him. That she was sewn together in the heavens and left on his lap for such a purpose. Because no one would ever be able to please her the way Damien could. No other man could even try. She was made for him. To be loved by him. To be fucked by him. To live and die for him. They were one.”

Harry waits for you to finish the thought before he finally pushes forward, the tip of his large head disappearing between your folds. 

He braces himself against your hips and your lungs nearly give out. And he watches. He watches every fucking second of the way his cock stretches you open. Curses when he sees the way you accept him. Grits his teeth and fists your skin until he’s completely bottomed out.

And then…he kisses you.

Long and slow and it almost feels grateful. Like he’s thanking you for letting him inside and you sigh against his mouth.

Then, the book is suddenly snatched from your hand and chucked across the room before he kisses you harder. He growls, “Enough. You don’t come for him anymore. You fucking come for me. Is that understood?”

You whine his name but it’s not enough.

“Is that fucking understood?” he repeats louder. “You are not to pick up that goddamn book as long as you’re mine, do you hear me? You will not touch yourself to another man’s words or soak these fucking sheets for anybody else but me.”

And even if Harry isn’t a possessive man by nature, you thrive off the instruction. The threat—the demand. You imagine he doesn’t truly mean it, nor would he be that cross with you if you were to do it again.

But it fits the scene and you want to be perfect for him. “I understand,” you whimper. You bite your lip but he bites it harder. “Though, technically…it was written by a woman.”

You like to think he’d laugh if it were any other time. Today, however, he merely yanks himself out of your pussy and flips you around.

You’re on your stomach and spread before you can catch your breath. And you feel him push back in without a moment’s hesitation while his hand comes down in a firm smack to your ass.

You cry out his name and nuzzle your cheek against the bed. You miss being able to see him, but you happen to adore this side of him, too.

“Did I fucking ask?” he hisses before spanking you again. You feel your skin grow hot where his hand lands and somehow, it brings you even closer to release. “Huh? I don’t fucking care who wrote it. It is no longer yours to read. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you say again. “I do, Sir. I promise.”

He kneads the tender flesh in his palm before mumbling, “Good girl. Now, are you gonna take my cock, Kitten? You gonna let me show you how a real man does it?”

Thankfully, your fervent nod is answer enough and with that, he begins a harsh, unforgiving pace that turns your insides to jello.

The bed shakes and your body shakes and this is fucking. The kind you’ve only ever seen in porn and you are so incredibly present in this moment with him. You drink in every detail, the way he holds your body, the way he fucks into your pussy, the way it sounds when he slips. 

His hips feel good against your ass and his soft grunts are euphoric. A few rendezvous aren’t enough, you realize. You thought you were addicted before but now…

You don’t think it’s fair that he doesn’t have to share you, but you have to share him. And you can’t hide the pout that forms on your lips at the very thought of him leaving you—leaving your warmth—to go find it with someone else.

And you know he’s not like that. You know he’s not actively with anybody else but you…and occasionally Rebecca. Still, the chance is there. The offer is his for the taking, should he decide to take it.

When you go quiet, he weaves his fingers through your hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s still gruff the way he speaks but laced with tender concern. The kind you’re used to from him.

You replace the pout with a small smile. “Nothing, Sir. I promise.”

“Would you like to take a break? Or change colors?”

You shake your head. “No. I promise.”

He slows his thrusts. “Are you thinking again?” he asks gently. “Did I lose you to those ugly thoughts?”

You could almost cry from the way he notices. The way he cares. Still, you force a brave face. “No, sorry. Just feels really good.”

He’s unconvinced. “Kitten—”

“Please don’t stop, Sir,” you whimper. You use the quiver in your voice to persuade him. To keep him in this moment with you instead of trying to yank you out. “Please, I’m…I’m so close. Just wanna come with you.”

You hear him sigh and the firm grip on your hip loosens. “All right,” he concedes, yet…he pulls out.

You nearly wither.

However, before you can, he’s rolling you over onto your back. “I wanna try something else with you this time,” he says. “Wanna see if you’d ride me.”

You feel your eyes grow larger while your head nods all on its accord.

And he grins when he sees how mesmerized you are, grabbing your hand to help you up as you both get situated near the headboard. An easier place to start.

He pulls you over his thighs before he’s slipping his hands beneath your large shirt to pull it over your head. And once he has full access to your chest, he takes advantage. Kissing and licking your tits while his palm flattens against your spine to keep you on his tongue.  

Then, you sit.

You start slow, and he uses his other hand to guide your hips at a pace he prefers. A pace he knows will be easier on you. After all, you’ve never taken him like this, and he’d like you to enjoy every fucking inch of the way down.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders as you go. This stretch is just as tantalizing, yet strangely more pleasurable. He feels deeper than he ever has and you glance down at where your bodies meet as though you’ll be able to see just where he is.

He smiles and takes your hand. “Right here,” he murmurs, as though anticipating your wonder. He presses your palm flat against your stomach before nudging himself up into you and—

The gasp melts into a moan, and he thrusts up once more but keeps your hand taut to your tummy. To the subtle bulge you can feel moving beneath.

“Sh…shit,” you manage, nails scratching at your skin. “I’m…fuck, Harry, I—”

“I know,” he says gently. He’s watching you again. Curious to your reaction and seemingly enthralled by your response. Happy. Content. “I know, baby. S’good, yeah?”

You surge forward and kiss him. Taking your hand away only so you can drag it down his chest and claw at his heart as though desperate to reach inside and take hold. To keep it. Forever.

You can feel it thumping against his ribcage. Going about as fast as you imagine yours is and there’s something so incredibly wonderful about knowing he’s equally as possessed as you are.

He seems to realize he’s the first man to do something so intimate with you and he likes this idea. Likes that he will always be your first memory, forever ingrained in your past. He holds you harder and kisses you deeper and begins to move you faster over his cock.

You shift, and grind, and ride him until you’re both a mess of moans and incoherent praises. He helps lift you up and guide you back down, setting a strangely addictive pace of bouncing on his cock until you’re nearing a fourth. But you won’t succumb until he does.

Your body is spent, every limb tired and aching for relief. It almost hurts, this pleasure, but it’s oddly sweet. Everything always is with him.

“Doing so good,” you hear him say, and you peel your eyes open to watch the way he watches you. His face is magnetic, every inch of him just as erotic as the sex itself. Even the way he swallows and clenches his jaw in pure bliss. “So fucking good, Kitten, you gonna give me another?”

You mewl pitifully and attempt to nod but it’s useless. The pressure is building and the ache is distracting and you’re close but somehow not nearly close enough.

Yet your tears and meek reaction only entertain him further. He grins wickedly as he rolls you faster, taking your nipple in his mouth before looking up. “What’s the matter, baby, hm? S’it hurt?”

You nod again while your hands cement themselves to his shoulders for balance.

However, he merely hums while his fingers suddenly lift toward his lips and disappear beside his tongue. And he sucks. Loudly. Lewdly. Until they’re soaked and dripping.

And then…he drops them to your clit.

The sound you make is miserable and pathetic. It does hurt but in the best way and you bury your face in his neck as though to hide from the pleasure.

You feel him nuzzle his cheek against your head. “Shh,”  he coos, and rubs his other hand up and down your spine soothingly. “You’re okay. You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? Gonna give me another—”

“Harry,” you cry, gripping onto his curls as though your life depends on it.

“You’re okay,” he repeats firmly. “You’re fine. I know you can take me, so take me. Just like you took your little fingers before I got here. You come for me the way you came for him. Okay?”

It’s mean and cruel and so incredibly sadistic but with one little pinch…he tips you over.

It’s quick but powerful and you’re drop kicked back into your body just in time to feel him twitch before he’s slamming you down and hissing, “Can I?”

You nod and he fills you. Completely and utterly, until your insides feel even fuller and your mind has gone numb. 

His head drops back against the headboard, lashes fluttering shut with relief while you watch. You watch all of it. The way he dribbles out of your pussy and down onto his thighs. The way his cock sits snugly inside of you. The way his skin glistens from the sweat and exertion.

But you can’t help the whine that slips out when you see those delicious pearlescent drops go to waste and you squirm when you realize how much you’re really losing.

You’ve never been one to care about keeping it inside. In fact, you’ve never really cared about it at all. But now…it feels like you’re losing him. You’re losing this experience by letting it drip down and disappear, and you nearly start to cry.

He takes hold of your cheek and gently sweeps his thumb across the soaked, warm skin of your face. “Baby,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow thickly and attempt to relax. You don't imagine he'd understand. “Nothing, sorry.”

His head tilts but he’s still smiling. “Then why are you clenching me so hard? What’s wrong? Are you in pain, does it hurt?”

“No. No,” you assure him quickly. “No, I just…I don’t know. Feels like…a waste, I guess.”

He’s confused until you look down and the moment he realizes, he laughs again. “Oh, you sweet fucking girl—” He tugs you in for another kiss and now your body is numb, too. “God, I really don’t fucking deserve you.”

You whimper against his tongue and he sighs.

“I’ll give you more, don’t worry,” he says before kissing down your throat. “Next time. I promise. But right now, I wanna clean you up and make sure you’re all right.”

You’d likely protest if you had the strength, but instead, you allow him to care for you. He sets you down onto the bed as gently as he can before he’s rushing around your apartment collecting the things he needs.

He starts with a warm washcloth along your inner thighs to collect the sticky residue and add a bit of relief to your swollen cunt. And even though it’s sensitive and you try to squirm away, he soothingly talks you through it. Keeping you calm. Steady. Present.

Then, once he’s washed himself up as well, he asks if it would be all right to hold you. And it’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given.

So you stay in his arms for hours, your head on his chest, his lips in your hair. You talk about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of his heart as he recalls past moments that made him happy. Like this one.

Then, your favorite part. He asks what you’d like to do next time. 

“I don’t know,” you admit sheepishly. “I…I’m not sure what all I like.”

He thinks. “Well, we could do some research. Try a few things. You said you like things rougher, yeah? We could add some new dynamics. Degradation, harder spanking, punishments. Things like that.”

Your stomach flips. “You’re into punishment?”

He laughs and the sound is beautiful. “Yeah. Why, does that surprise you?”

“Honestly…yes and no.”

“We don’t have to go too deep if you don’t want,” he says. “We can keep it light, but the option is always there.”

You nod. “And…you like being rougher? You like…degradation and all that?”

“Yeah. Because I know my partner trusts me to take care of them even if I’m being harsh. And there’s something powerful in that, I guess. That their pain and their pleasure belongs to me.”

You feel yourself clench at the very thought before you’re scooting closer. “Well…that sounds good to me. I like being taken care of by you. Even if you’re mean.”

He laughs. “Was I mean, Kitten?”

“No. Just oddly possessive over that book.”

He hums before he looks toward the discarded novel on the other side of the room. “Yeah, well…fuck that book. I mean it.”

Now, it’s your turn to laugh. “Harry.”

“What? I do mean it.” He kisses your forehead. “You deserve better than some half-assed attempt at sex on a page. You deserve to be fucked and looked after. And Damien isn’t gonna do that for you.”

“No, but…I have other books.”

He snorts. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I just picked an easy one since I didn’t want you to get too jealous.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup. Although that clearly didn’t work very well.”

You feel him land a firm smack to your ass that makes you squeal before you settle again.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll pull you over my lap right now.”

You grin. “Maybe you should.”

And when he chuckles, you feel whole. “Next time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The room falls silent again as you exist in his hold. Against his heart. In his life in a way you never imagined.

And then…you ruin it.

“Was she surprised you were coming over again?” you ask quietly, breath already catching in anticipation of his response. “Or was she…mad?”

Yet true to form, he’s calm. “No,” he says easily. “She was happy, honestly. Just surprised you didn’t mention it to her yourself.”

You grimace. Right. “I…yeah. Sorry, I…I think I got scared.”

You feel his cheek roll across your head before he’s scratching his nails up and down your back. “Why, Kitten?” he asks softly. “She’s not scary, I promise.”

“I know. Fuck, I know. I know, I…I don’t know.” You groan. “I think I…I just think I’m still not used to this. To this idea of…sharing? And I keep worrying that she’s gonna change her mind and…and it’ll be over. Just like that.”

He considers this for a beat before he’s kissing your crown again. “She’s not like that. I promise. She never would have agreed if she thought she’d change her mind.”

“…I know.”

“And even if she did, she doesn’t get to make that decision for us,” he tells you. “If we want to continue, that’s our choice. And nobody else’s.”

This makes you smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Another kiss. “But you know she doesn’t want this to upset you. She cares about you a lot, Kitten. She values your friendship more than anything and she’d hate to know she’s made you so anxious.”

And just like that, you feel dejected again. “I know…”

“I don’t want to come between you two,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “And if I am—”

“No,” you interject. “No, you’re not. But I don’t want to come between you two, either.”

“You’re not,” he echoes smugly. “And I think that’s why this works. We’re good at sharing. At least with each other. And I like it this way.”

The contentment in his voice makes your heart swell and you reach up to kiss him firmly in response.

But the truth is, you don’t think you are very good at sharing. At least not him.

Although, you suppose you’ll have to learn. 

Because next time…you don’t plan to let him go.

Writing smut inside smut is no joke 😭

Next Part:

~ Insufferable You* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Infinite You* (Pt. 1)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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

[loganhowlettsmybf]

hated desire

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

warnings: almost smut, swearing, fighting, knives, mention of blood

summary: you hate logan howlett. especially when you can see his, sweaty and naked muscular upper body while you two are training.

word count: 500+

a/n: aghh i’m literally shaking, i hope you like it🫶🏻 also everyone here is so sweet and supportive😭 so thank y’all for encouraging me

[english isn’t my first language, so sorry if there’s any mistakes but i still hope it’s enjoyable<333]

(also my requests are open, so feel free to ask one-shots that comes to your mind or just message me anything🫶🏻)

you hated him.

you hated his arrogant attitude, his ego. just because he has a body of a god and he knew it, that doesn’t mean he has to be an ass.

but the thing you hate the most about him is how wet he makes you, when you two are training together and he doesn’t wear a shirt so you can see all his detailed muscles.

like in the exact. same. moment.

you snapped back into the reality, daydreaming is for later, right now you have to kick his ass.

“ready to lose again, howlett?” you taunted, flipping a knife effortlessly between your fingers.

logan snorted, a smirk curling his lips. “you wish, sweetheart. let’s see if you can keep up.”

you lunged at him with a swift, well-practiced strike, but logan blocked it with his claws.

"you fight like a little girl," logan smirked, feinting a strike.

"it is so much better than fighting like an old man," you shot back, while one of your knife is grazing his side, a little blood dropping out of him. but that was just for a moment, he healed immediately.

oh how much you hated his healing ability too.

“fuck,” logan grunted, more annoyed, than hurt. He spun, catching your wrist and twisting it just enough to make you drop the knives. the closeness of your bodies sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel his breath on your neck, his muscular frame pressing against you.

“is that all you got?” logan growled, his voice low and husky. he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “i thought you were tougher than this.”

in a swift motion, you freed yourself, your knives flashing as you launched another attack while logan blocked you effortlessly.

you pushed back, using your agility to twist away, but not before grazing his side with your blade.

“did I just cut you? again? ohh, you're getting sloppy,” you say while trying to steady your racing heart.

logan’s eyes darkened. he advanced with a ferocity that matched your own. in a swift, fluid motion, logan disarmed you, pinning you against the wall with his claws dangerously close to your throat, your faces inches apart.

"you think you can keep me against the wall?" you breathed.

logan's lips curling into a dangerous smile. "i think you like it when i do," he murmured, his face so close you could feel his breath. “you think i don’t know how wet you’re everytime you see me. just like right now. and how this position with my claws, against your throat turns you on,” he whispered in your ear.

you started to panic. you didn’t know what his next action will be. the tension between you was growing, and before you could even say something he was kissing you, hard and demanding. at first you were surprised, but you responded with equal fervor, you hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you even harder against the wall.

your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. logan’s claws retracted, and he lifted you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist. you felt yourself melting against him. your hatred mixed with an undeniable hunger.

just as things were about to get out of control, logan pulled back, his breathing was heavy.

"this ain't the place," he growled, though his eyes were filled with the same desire that burned in you. he brushed his thumb across your swollen lips. “but don’t think even just for a minute, that this is over.”

[dixons-sunshine]

I Got Ya Somethin’ | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

“Daryl! What the hell were you thinking?”

Your angered yet worried voice reached the archer’s ears. He winced slightly as the loudness seemed to reverberate off his brain, the pounding in his head making him shut his eyes in an attempt to drown out the pain. When the pain subsided somewhat, he forced himself into a seated position on the bed in the infirmary, his bare feet touching the cold, hard floor. He opened his mouth to speak, to attempt to soothe your worries, but you cut him off.

“Going off on your own like that? Going against what Aaron told you? What Glenn told you? What the fuck were you thinking? You could’ve died! Damnit, Daryl!”

Daryl could hear the pain in your voice. He could see the way you fought to keep the tears at bay, and his heart ached at the sight. You were trying to mask your fear of losing him with anger. He knew that all too well. He masked his fear with anger more than anybody else. However, he needed to get you to calm down. He was fine. He was safe, and he had gotten what he wanted, even if he did suffer a concussion and bruised ribs in the process.

Daryl got up from the bed and closed the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a hug. “C’mere. S’okay.” You didn’t even struggle against his hold. You simply collapsed into his arms, gripping his shirt tightly. That spoke volumes to the archer. He often called you his little spitfire, due to the fact that you never backed down when you were angry with him and wanted to get your point across. You were simply too exhausted from worrying to keep going. “M’sorry. M’so sorry. I didn’t mean to make ya worry.”

You swallowed hard, willing the lump in your throat to go away. “What were you thinking?” you whispered brokenly. “You could’ve died.”

Daryl sighed and rested his chin on top of your head. “Yeah, I know,” he responded. “It was reckless, but I needed to do it. Don’ know when else I would’a gotten the chance to get what I needed.”

You frowned and pulled back. “Get what?”

Daryl’s demeanour considerably changed. He was no longer sporting an understanding, soft look. Instead, he was suddenly extremely nervous, almost sheepish. However, the archer swallowed down the need to brush off your question. This was as good a time as any, he supposed, and after his near death experience, he couldn’t wait.

“I, uh...” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I got ya somethin’.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring—an engagement ring. Your eyes widened at what you saw. A small gasp of surprise left your mouth, and you took a step back. However, before you could say anything, Daryl continued. “Y’know I ain’t good with words or any’a that crap, but ya deserve to know how I feel. Y’know m’crazy for ya. Have been for years. Jus’ figured, y’know, that I might as well grow a pair and pop the big question. So, uh, would ya—y’know...”

You were stunned. Just moments prior, you were ready to tear into your partner for scaring you like that, for risking his life for no reason, but now you knew why he did it. He did it for you. Even if it was for a reason that could’ve waited for a while, he still did it.

You slowly nodded you head, a small smile spreading across your face. “Yes. A million times yes.”

That small confirmation was all Daryl needed. Had it not been for the fact that his ribs were most likely bruised, he would’ve picked you up and spun you around. Instead, he gently took your left hand in his and slipped the ring onto your finger, before pulling you into a soft hug.

A few beats of silence passed until you spoke up again. “Just because I’m really happy right now does not mean I’m not still pissed at you for risking your life.”

Daryl chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want ya any other way.”

[musaslullaby]

Streaming night

Lando Norris x fem reader

Summary: Yn and Lando make a bet

Warning: only fluff, au instagram

Face: random people on Pinterest and Lando.

Masterlist

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Yn_gamelife

Description: Soon live, we’re waiting for you.❤️❤️❤️

liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 293932892

Landonorris: My baby girl❤️❤️❤️

Landonorris: You are so beautiful.

yn_lando: Lando flooding the comment section of Yn.

Landonorris: I don’t know how I’ll keep my hands to myself tonight.

Yn_gamelife: Lando, stop, you won’t dissuade me from playing The Sims.

Landonorris: Oh my god baby plssss

Ynmyword: The third photo is completely random.

Landono_rris: He's so cute

N4: Lando without a shirt????

L_y: Shh, let me enjoy the scene.

Yn_lifegame

Description: I left Lando alone for two seconds asking him to create me on The Sims (I shouldn't have done that)."

liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 293932892

Ynqueen: Yn's face says it all

❤️ Like to author

Yn_Lando: Ok now I want to see what Lando has created

utente67:You should have come live.

Landonorris: It was beautiful, the best Sim ever.

Yn_lifegame: No no absolutely no

Yn_Lando: O my God they replied

Landonorris: Okok but it was so difficult

Yn_lifegame: No it wasn't

Landonorris: If you think you can create one better than mine, go ahead, but if you can’t, you owe me a date—just you, me, and clothes on the floor. ❤️ Like to author

Yn_lifegame: If I win, you’ll have to do everything I say for a day.

Landonorris: Get ready to lose

Ynmyword: What did we just witness?

Ln4_81: I’m scared.

Landonorris

Description: Her super professional setup, and then there's mine that just exists

liked by Yn:gamelife, charles_leclerc and other 293932892

Yn_lifegame: Please don't embarrass me

❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: I didn't know you knew how to play Minecraft.

Yn_gamelife: I was playing

Landonorris: I was busy making her blush.

Yn_lifegame: LANDO PLSSS

Landonorris: What?

Landonorris: Mate I didn't know u even knew Minecraft

charles_leclerc: I’m not that ignorant.

Yn_lifegame: Really Charli? ❤️ Like to author

F1lover: Lando's face is resigned

Lan_:Yes, he's the rich one in the couple, and yet she has the more expensive setup.

Yn_norris: Bro she is also very famous

Game.yn: She probably earns as much as Lando.

Yn.lifegame

Description: Ok guys this is my beautiful creation. Did I win the challenge?

liked by Yn:gamelife, charles_leclerc and other 293932892

Ynnnnn.; O my God is Lando?

Yn_norris: Yn, you beat him

charles_leclerc: Someone call Lando and tell him he owes a full day under Yn’s command

❤️ Like to author

Landonorris: shut up mate

Oscarpiastri: Yn, can you create me too, please?

❤️ Like to author

Yn_lifegame: Immediately teddy bear

Ln4_81: YN???

georgerussell63: Don’t worry, it’s all normal (Could you create me too?) ❤️ Like to author

Landonorris: Don’t load up work on my poor girl

Yn_gamelife: The only one getting stressed today is you.

Landonorris; You know I love you so much?

Yn_gamelife: You know flattering me won’t work

Yn_gamelife

Description: Him before, him during, him after (he thinks he’s super sexy).

liked by Yn:gamelife, charles_leclerc and other 293932892

F1lover: He looks like a model in the last photo

❤️ Like to author

Lando4norris_: The Spider-Man suit boosted his self-esteem ❤️ Like to author

Yn_gamelife: He was so happy and incredibly stunning.

Landonorris: I should dress as Spider-Man every day ❤️ Like to author

N4: Wait, why are they dressed like that?

Yn_Norris: Because Lando lost a bet to Yn, and she made him go around Monaco dressed as Spider-Man.

charles_leclerc: Alex and I saw you, you looked ridiculous

Landonorris: Did you guys passed out?

charles_leclerc: No? and I'm honestly scared to ask why

Landonorris: Because we were freaking awesome ❤️ Like to author

Yn_gamelife: Guys, Lando has officially gone crazy

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Remedy - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After you and Ethan both tease each other all day, you couldn't wait to be alone with him.

Contains: Oral - m and f receiving, p in v, rough-ish sex, dirty talk, a smidge of sexting i guessss

A/N: I found this in my notes today, if it's garbage, I'm sorry🙃 I wrote this FOREVERRR ago. Someone requested it but I lost it when I lost all my requests lmao. The Carpenter!Reader fic is coming soon, today was fucking insane.

Ethan was struggling to not get hard as he sat through his classes, and you were fully to blame. The morning started off with you walking around his apartment in nothing but one of his shirts and your panties, taking every opportunity to bend over in front of him that presented itself. You might’ve been intentionally trying to tease him, knowing that he wouldn’t have time to do anything about it if he wanted to make it to his first class on time.

If that wasn’t bad enough, you were sending him the filthiest messages as you sat in class.

‘I need your cock in my mouth so bad’

‘I love the way you whimper when it hits the back of my throat’

‘Mmm and the way it fills my pussy up’

He finally had to put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’, because his cock was throbbing as it strained against his jeans, and it was hard for him to focus on anything his professor was saying. You sent him one final message, clicking ‘Notify Anyway’ once you saw his messages were silenced.

‘I need you to fuck me as soon as you get home today’

That’s when Ethan got an idea, one that would help him get a little revenge, and have you begging for him by the end of the night.

When he got home, as bad as he wanted to just give in and fuck you, he brushed you off. He felt a little guilty, because he knew how badly you wanted it. But he knew you didn’t feel guilty making him struggle to get through his classes, so he decided to have a little fun with you.

“Hey, babe,” you said, quickly walking over to him as soon as you saw him.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” he asked, giving your lips a quick peck before he walked around you to set his stuff down.

“It would’ve been better if I wasn’t thinking about you all day,” you said, as you followed him towards his room. “But I’m sure you already knew that from the texts you were ignoring.”

“I read all of them,” he said, as he walked over to the closet and grabbed a new shirt, before pulling the one he was wearing over his head. Your gaze went straight to his abs before he put the other shirt on, blocking your view. “Are you ready to go to Tara’s? We’re supposed to be there in twenty minutes.”

“It only takes us ten minutes to get there,” you said, the seductiveness in your tone making him chuckle. “I need you, Eth.”

“You know once I get into it, I lose track of time,” he said as he walked back towards the bedroom door. “I’ll take care of you when we get back home, baby.”

You didn’t say anything, the pouty look on your face letting Ethan know how you felt. He sighed as he walked over to you and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s only fair for you to wait after how hard you made me earlier.”

As soon as he pulled away, he smirked at you once he noticed the sad look on your face turned into annoyance.

When you got to Tara’s, you knew the best way to not think about how bad you needed Ethan to fuck you was to distract yourself. Ethan watched you talk to Tara as he talked with Mindy and Anika about the movie they wanted to watch, and he was a little disappointed that you had a happy look on your face, like his attempts to make you feel the way he did earlier in the day wasn’t working.

Then, he remembered the texts you were sending him. He decided to take it up a notch once Tara walked away from you to go to the kitchen. He excused himself from the conversation with Mindy and Anika before he walked over to you, leaning down a little so what he was saying to you wouldn’t be heard by anyone else.

“Are you having fun, baby?” he asked, your breath hitching in your throat once you felt his on your neck. You nodded your head in response as you felt one of his hands go to your hip, before it moved towards your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. As soon as you let out a soft moan, he pulled it away. “You’ll be having a lot of fun later tonight, once I get your pretty ass back home.”

“Can we leave now?” you whispered back, your body involuntarily leaning into his as his hand moved up and down your side.

“Oh, come on, baby. You can be patient,” he said, as you huffed in response. “Just a couple hours, and my cock will be in your pussy so deep that you won’t be able to speak.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up before Ethan stole a quick kiss and pulled away.

“You wanna go to our spot on the couch? Mindy’s going to start the movie soon.”

As everyone was sat in front of the tv, you were trying so hard to focus on the movie. You were snuggled up with Ethan under one of the fuzzy blankets Tara had, and his hand kept inching further and further up your thigh. You shot him a warning glare as he smiled in response.

“Ethan, knock it off,” you softly whispered, your hand grabbing his and moving it back to his lap.

“Sorry, babe. I guess I just can’t wait to have my fingers in your pussy,” he said lowly, before he glanced around the room to make sure everyone was still paying attention to the movie. “And my tongue flicking against your sensitive clit.”

“This is so not fair,” you mumbled, as his hand when back to your thigh. “I wasn’t this mean to you.”

“My favorite though is when you’re about to cum, and I suck on your clit. You make the hottest sounds,” he mumbled, before you pulled his hand off your thigh and hopped out off your spot on the couch. Mindy grabbed the remote and paused the movie before everyone looked at you, the awkward silence in the air heavy, but not nearly as heavy as the sexual tension between you and your boyfriend.

“Ethan and I have to go,” you said, his eyes wide as he hesitantly stood up. 

“Is everything okay?” Tara asked, before Chad spoke up.

“They’re going to fuck,” he said, before he looked at Ethan. “If you want to talk dirty to your girl, do it a little quieter next time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ethan lied, as you grabbed his hand and led him out of the apartment.

The fast-paced walk to his place was silent, aside from the sounds of cars passing and sirens off in the distance. He was running through all the things he wanted to do to you in his head, all the positions he wanted you in. He was already hard from teasing you, but as his mind wandered, the feeling of his cock confined by his jeans and his boxers was starting to get painful.

He had his keys out before he made it to his apartment, and once you were inside, clothes started to fly before the door fully closed. You were both craving each other, both so desperate to do the things you’d said to each other throughout the day.

“Those need to go,” you said, looking down at his boxers as you slid your panties off.

Ethan did as you said, and at first, he thought you wanted to skip foreplay, until you dropped to your knees in front of him. You wrapped your hand around his cock as you looked up at him, his lips parting at the contact.

You swirled your tongue over the tip of his cock as your free hand reached between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your bundle of nerves. You gasped around him as you inched him into your mouth, his praise starting almost immediately.

“Fuck, that feels so good.”

“So fucking beautiful on your knees for me.”

“Yeah, just like that, baby.”

As your fingers moved against you, you slid him out of your mouth, your eyes still on his as your tongue flatly moved up his cock, base to tip. He was letting out the softest moans as his hand ran through your hair, his sounds turning into the loudest whimpers once to sucked him back into your mouth until his cock was almost to the back of your throat.

Your hand twisted as you hollowed your cheeks, his eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them on you. As soon as you took him back a little further, your gag reflex kicking in as you bobbed your head, he tugged on your hair, hard. 

“Gonna cum,” he groaned, as you bobbed your head faster.

Right as Ethan hit his high, he placed his free hand on the wall to stabilize himself as his mind went blank, his eyes screwing shut as you just kept sucking. It was so intense that he got a little lightheaded and had to pull you back by your hair, the feeling making you moan around him before he slid out of your mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, as he looked down to see you still on your knees, your eyes glassy from the tears that welled up. “I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.”

“You’re welcome,” you said softly, as he grabbed your hands to help you stand back up. “I was hoping you wouldn’t cum yet. I was close.”

“Oh, really?” He asked, “Let me help you with that.”

You expected to end up on the couch, because you knew you weren’t going to make it to his bed, but he had other ideas. He backed you towards the kitchen table, grabbing your hips and sitting you on it before he gently laid you back.

“Your kitchen table?” You said, giggling a little as he kissed up your thighs.

“No better place to eat, baby,” he mumbled against you, before he traced his tongue up your thigh, until he made it to your pussy. 

Your wetness was dripping out of you, and he didn’t want to miss a single drop as he dove in, lapping at your entrance before he pushed his tongue inside you.

Your hands tangled in his soft curls as he ate you out, your toes already tingling when he’d just gotten started. He hummed at how good your pussy tasted, his head leaning against your inner thigh as you lazily ran your nails all over his scalp.

He slid his tongue out of you and licked up your fold a few times before he made it to your clit. He chuckled as the slight contact made your hips arch off the table, before he pushed them back down.

“Fuck, Eth,” you moaned as the tip of his tongue gave you the perfect amount of pressure. “Fingers?”

He did as you asked, sliding two digits into your soaked pussy with ease. He watched you as he angled his fingers to move them against that special spot inside you, your jaw dropping as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He knew you were close when your whining got louder, and he was more than willing to get a noise complaint from his neighbors if he was making you feel as good as you were. Your pussy began to pulse around his fingers before you whimpered that you were cumming, your entire body starting to jolt as you let that feeling take over.

When Ethan pulled away, he smirked at you as your body was sprawled out across the table, your breathing labored as you let out the shakiest whimpers he’d ever heard.

“Maybe us teasing each other all day isn’t a bad thing,” he said, as you looked at him, your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I’m not done with you, yet. Let me know when you’re ready for more, if you think you can take it.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” You asked, as you sat up. Your legs were a little weak when you hopped off the table, your boyfriend’s knowing smile making you roll your eyes as he held you upright.

“That,” he said, chuckling as he turned you around and bent you over the table.

You whimpered when you felt his cock pressing against your ass, your hips instinctively moving back towards him.

“How bad do you want it?” He asked, running the tip of his cock over your dripping pussy.

“So bad,” you said, whining once you felt his tip inside of you.

He made it clear that he wasn’t done teasing you when he slid inside you halfway and pulled out. He kept repeating his actions until you were begging him for all of it.

“Please baby,” you whimpered, as he gave you a little more than he had before. “I need it.”

“You need it?” he questioned, before he slid all the way inside you, the full feeling causing a low moan to build in your throat. “Don’t hold back. Let me know how good it feels.” 

His thrusts were slow at first, so deep that his hip bones were pressed against your ass as he filled you up. You needed him to go faster, but before you had the chance to say anything, he sped up. His hands were gripping your hips as he pulled you back to meet every thrust, your moans turning to whimpers as he kept hitting that spot.

You gripped the table with your hands as your legs started to tingle, his skin slapping against yours so hard that it was starting to sting, but it only made it feel even better.

“Fuck, I’m getting close,” you whined out, as he laughed to himself.

“Already?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, as his hand snaked underneath you to pull you towards him, your back pressed against his chest.

He kept his pace as your hand went to your clit, rubbing fast circles as he placed kisses on the side of your neck.

“Gonna cum,” you cried, your shaky hand still moving as you heard him start to grunt.

He laid you back over the table as he fucked you through your orgasm, his right on the edge as he pounded into you harder than before.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned, “Can I cum in you?”

“Please,” you said, your voice showing how tired you were as his hips snapped forward a few more times until they slowed.

Ethan stayed inside you as he caught his breath, his hands running over the flesh that was red from how hard his skin was slapping against yours.

“You okay, baby?”

You lazily nodded your head against the table in response, before he helped you stand.

When you turned around to face him, he leaned down to kiss you, his lips gently moving against yours before he pulled you away and held you against his chest.

“I love you,” he said, his hands running over your back as he kissed the top of your head.

“I love you, too.”

[littlelamy]

hii id like to request reader is know as the “purse lady” around town because she always has such nice purses but it drives rafe crazy because the purses are taking over the closet

hope you like it! ⭐️ everywhere you go, people comment on your purses. the vintage leather satchel you picked up at a farmers' market, the sleek designer tote you waited months to snag, each one is a piece of your identity around town. you’re “the purse lady,” and you wear the title proudly.

everyone in town loves it. everyone, it seems, except for rafe, who’s starting to regard your closet with a look somewhere between dread and defeat.

it didn’t bother him at first. one purse turned to five, five became ten, and soon they seemed to multiply overnight. he’d open a drawer expecting socks and pull out a sequin clutch. shelves once reserved for his shirts were now home to crossbodies and totes in every color he couldn’t name. it got to the point that he wasn’t entirely sure where his things were anymore.

“uh, hey, baby,” he says one night, in that careful tone he uses when he’s pretty sure he’s losing the battle, “do you think maybe…we could, y’know, thin the purse collection just a little?”

you glance up, already deciding you’ll ignore this conversation. “why would i do that?” you say, your voice light but not remotely budging. “they all have a purpose. you know that.”

he stifles a sigh. there it is—that classic, endearing excuse. you say it like every single purse is a tool for survival, an essential part of daily life. and he gets it, kind of. most of them hold stories he can see you’re not ready to let go of—trips you’ve taken, places you love, even a few gifts from people he’s never met. but now his once half-empty closet is practically spilling.

“i’m just saying,” he tries again, with a softer look, “that closet space is getting a little… tight.”

you laugh, patting his cheek with that sweet, dismissive touch. “you have plenty of room, rafe. you wear, what, the same five shirts? trust me, we’re fine.”

the way you brush him off makes him laugh even as he sighs, but he knows the struggle won’t end. one night, he catches himself staring at each one—a metallic hobo bag, a leather satchel, a chain-link crossbody. he’d even memorized the rotation by now, making sure every one of them makes it back to its designated spot when you switch things up.

and then, as he studies a purple suede clutch that’s recently claimed space near his shoes, something shifts. he realizes, maybe for the first time, that these bags aren’t just things—they’re a part of you, as real as your laugh, as familiar as your favorite coffee cup. they’re tokens of a life he’s glad to be part of, each one a marker of a memory he’s happy to share.

he decides that night to stop counting, to stop wishing for more space. he’ll let them take over, and the next time he stumbles on one of your totes, he’ll remind himself it’s a small price to pay to be in the orbit of your beautiful, chaotic world.

besides, he thinks, there are worse things than being the boyfriend of some obsessed with purses

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01

[cameronspecial]

Hey could you do one where rafe x reader have sex for the first time. Virgin!reader. SMUT!!

In the morning she wakes up and can’t move her body because she is so sore. 🥰 “I can’t get up”

He carries her to the bath they have together.

Do You Want Those Things?

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: HARD SMUT and Name Calling During Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.6K

Masterlist

Y/N wasn’t planning on losing her virginity today, but it all happened so fast. Rafe always thought his girlfriend was innocent when it came to sex. It didn’t bother him. He knows she isn’t waiting for marriage, just the right person. He respects her choice and doesn’t push her, letting her come to him if she ever feels ready. The boy didn’t think his girlfriend was interested in anything sexual; she reads most of the time for heaven's sake. All her thoughts must be so pure. Right now, she rests between his legs, back pressed against his chest. Her focus is on her book while he just listens to the sound of the music. When her legs first move, Rafe thinks nothing of it. She must be trying to get comfortable. Yet the second time she readjusts her legs, he notices how the movement is actually about creating some pressure between her legs. This surprises him. She’s never gotten this worked up with him around and he wants to know what is getting his innocent girlfriend so wet. He concludes it must be what she is reading, so he looks at the page and reads the words on the paper.

His eyes widen at the practically pornographic words. He never would’ve suspected that this is what his girlfriend likes to read and it’s driving him crazy that he isn’t the one bringing arousal to his girl. He doesn’t want to push her to do something she isn’t prepared for, but he needs to be the one to make her pussy wet. “Do you want those things done to you, Princess?” he whispers in her ear. Y/N freezes in his hold, uncrossing her legs and looking up at him with doe eyes. She knows she has been caught and honestly, she considers taking up his offer.

They love each other. She knows it. He knows it. She trusts him, so what is stopping her from feeling the pleasure she craves to read about? She closes her book and flips herself in his hold. Her chest presses against his and she can feel his hardening length pressing against the area just above her vagina. Her need for a release increases at the feeling. She nods a little, “Yeah. Rafe, I want you to make me feel good.” Rafe grins down at her, resting his hands in the dip of her back, just above her bum. “Is that right? Do you want me to be nice and sweet with you? Or do you want me to bring your fantasy to life and fuck you as he does to her?” he questions. She knows it is her first time, but she desires to recreate the impurities written in her book. “Fuck me like the little whore I am.” Rafe couldn’t possibly get harder at her words. Before he gives in, he needs to make sure she knows this isn’t a locked-in commitment, “Okay, Princess. I need you to know though, that if you ever want me to be gentle instead, you say yellow and if you want to stop at any point, you say red. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Rafe. Now, please, make me feel good,” she pleads with want dripping from her voice. A dark glean crosses over his eyes and he flips them over so he is on top of her. All she is wearing is his shirt, so her hardened nipples are peeking through the thin material. He needs to feel the skin of her breast against his bare skin. His hands meet at the neckline of the already fraying shirt and she gasps as he rips the shirt apart. She feels an ache between her legs at what just happened. His lips meet her right nipple. His fingers play with the other. Her head throws back at the feeling of his warm tongue circling her bud. Her hair threads through his hair, “Please, Rafe. I need you in me.” 

He removes himself from her skin with a shake of the head. “I’m sorry, Princess. Not yet. I need to make sure you are nice and ready for me and then I can fuck you like the little slut you want to be,” he promises to her, moving down her body. His eyes land on her lacy pink underwear. The pretty little bow at the top makes it feel like it’s the wrapping of a gift for him. He tears her underwear off of her body and throws it into the trash. She won’t be needing those again. He sits up and brings his fingers to her mouth. He forces his index and middle finger into her mouth, using her own saliva to get his fingers ready to penetrate her vagina. His big fingers shove to the back of her throat and she gags a little at the feeling. “You wanted to be treated like a whore. This is what they get,” he growls into her ear. After a few seconds, he pulls his fingers out of her mouth with a string of saliva connecting the two still. He brings his hand down between her legs and shoves them into her hole. Not checking to see if she is wet enough to handle two fingers yet. Fingers aren’t a foreign feeling to her, but his are definitely different from hers. Y/N knows Rafe thinks she has never done anything remotely sexual. He is wrong though. She wasn’t immune to her own sexual desires and had masturbated many times before.

This is a new feeling though. She is being shown a new side of intimacy when it comes to fingering, even though his movements are fast and rough. The first moan she lets out is when he curls his fingers to meet her G-spot. Rafe’s teeth nip at her ear, “Those beautiful sounds are all mine. No other man is going to get to hear you like this, Princess. I’m going to be your first and last. You got that?” “Yes, Rafe. I’m about to cum,” she cries out. His movements stop, causing her to complain. “My slut cums on my cock when I tell her. If you don’t, then you get punished.” He pulls away from her, ordering her to take off the ripped shirt while he gets up to take his clothes off. He is left in his boxers. His dick straining to be released and touched by his girl. 

He points down to his crotch, “Come here and show me what you can do with that mouth of yours, Princess. Show me how much you want me.” She doesn’t know what she is doing, but she scrambles onto her knees in front of him. Her hands eagerly tug at the waistband of his pants. His cock slaps up against his stomach and she stares at it with a little worry. How was all of that going to fit inside of her? From what she’s read, she knows she needs something to lessen the friction, so she spits in her hands and wraps them around his shaft. She starts moving her hand slowly up and down. “Like this?” she seeks his approval and he nods with his head falling back. He ruts into her hands and she figures he needs her to go faster. She speeds up her movement, but he takes her hands off of him. He takes his cock in one hand and moves it to her mouth, pushing it past her slightly opened lips. He doesn’t ease into her mouth; instead, he thrusts until she can feel him hit the back of her throat. She knows she needs air, yet all she wants to do is make him feel good. 

She lets him thrust into her mouth, drool forming at the corner of her lips and her eyes pooling with tears. “Look at you taking me like a good girl. You feel so good,” he praises. He continues his thrusts until he feels his release is imminent. He pulls her head off of him even though her lips itch to stay wrapped around him. “Tsk, tsk. I know you want more, Princess. But the only place that gets my cum is that sweet pussy of yours. It’s what he does to her in the book, isn’t it?” She manages a small nod as she pants for air. “Then that’s what my princess deserves. I’m gonna show you how much better I am than him.”

He pulls her to stand up and pushes her onto the bed on all fours. His hands rub the skin of her smooth, round ass and he can’t help but give it a harsh slap. This causes her to flinch forward in surprise with a moan. “You like that? My little whore likes to be spanked,” he laughs, giving her another hit on the butt. He keeps spanking her until a red print in the shape of his hand blooms across her skin. At the last slap, his hand rests on her butt cheek, giving it a squeeze as his other hand lines himself up with her hole. She can feel the tip being teased against her and she tries to force herself onto her boyfriend’s length. Rafe lets out a low chuckle, “Damn, my princess is desperate to feel me.” With that, he slams into her at full force. The stretch she feels from him being inside her hurts and feels uncomfortable, but he doesn’t give her time to adjust. He does as he promised her and thrusts into her as hard as he can. He pulls back so his tip is the only thing left inside, snapping his hips back against her ass in an instant. At this pace, she can’t keep staying up on her hands and drops down to her elbows. This causes a delicious arch in her back, which provokes Rafe to place his hands on her hips to bring her down on him harder. The pain starts to ebb and pleasure creeps in between her legs. This is when her quiet whimperings start to turn into screams of pleasure. “God, Rafe. This feels so good. Keep going,” she yells, feeling confident enough to start meeting his movement without any help.

“Yeah? Am I making you feel that good? Look at you, my sweet little virgin acting like a freak on my dick. Is that how good I am? I’ve corrupted you?” he questions with an edge of arousal to his voice. “Only sluts like to be fucked without any emotions. Without facing each other.” Y/N wants to reply but can’t seem to find anything else that wants to fall off of her lips except for her breathy moans. The building pressure in her lower stomach has returned and she is focused on chasing that feeling to her release. “Aww, is my princess speechless? How does it feel to be cock drunk for the first time?” he teases with a slap to her ass. He can feel his climax is nearing and he wants to bring her to the edge at the same time. Normally, his stamina is way better, but the newfound intimacy he gets to have with the woman he loves and the previous ruined orgasm shorten his abilities. 

He needs more skin contact with her, so he brings his arm under her armpit to bring her back up to his chest. His hand goes up to her opposite shoulder to lock her against him. He can feel her tightening around him. “Is my little whore going to cum? That’s it. Keep getting tighter around me so that I can show you how good you are making me feel,” he demands. She can only groan at his remark. His hips stutter as his semen comes out of him and flows into her. He places his head in her neck, so he can give her soft kisses. He slows down as he lets them come down from their high and collapses on top of her. He rests on his elbows so his full weight isn’t on her. He slips his dick out of her with both of their fluids following. She turns in his arms with a sleepy look in her eyes and cuddles into his neck. He wants to get up to get her to the bathroom, but sleep takes them before he can 

———

Y/N awakes to a different type of ache between her legs. One that makes her question if she’ll be able to stand or even walk. She wants to stay in bed with Rafe; however, her bladder is calling for the bathroom. Plus, the dried-up cum in between her legs is in great need of being washed off her skin. She doesn’t want to wake Rafe because he looks so peaceful, so she tries to get up by herself. She makes it a few steps toward his bathroom, looking like a spinning top about to collapse, when she falls to the ground with a thud. Rafe immediately bolts up and looks toward the source of the sound. He sees his girlfriend on the ground and concerns flood him. “I can’t get up,” she complains, reaching for his help. He scrambles out of bed and scoops her into his arms, trying his best not to keep how turned on he is by the sigh of a slight bruise forming on her hips and bum. He doesn’t want her to feel obligated to help relieve him of the growing tension in his stomach now that their sexual relationship has begun. 

She softly asks him to set her down on the toilet and he does so once they get to his bathroom. He lets her take care of her business while he gets a bath drawn for them. She finishes up and waits for Rafe to take her to the sink to wash her hands. This is all down in comfortable silence. They can clearly see how tired the other person is from last night. Rafe has a million questions running through his head, except he knows they need to wait. He gets the bath bombs and bubble solution from under his sink and drops both into the tub. They watch as the warm water slowly fills up the tub. The water reaches up almost to the brim when he stops it. His hand pushes past the bubbles to check the temperature of the water. It’s perfect. Hot and on the verge of turning warm after a few minutes. He picks her up and sets her into the tub. She does her best to sit forward as she observes him getting in behind her. The water spills over the edge but neither of them cares. The towel on the floor can handle that. He brings her to rest against his chest. 

“I didn’t go too hard on you last night, did I? You didn’t use either of the safe words but I should’ve double-checked while I was doing it,” he starts to worry. “It was your first time. I should’ve gone slower and been more gentle. I’m sorry, Princess. I just wanted to give you what you wanted.” He can feel her head shake against his chest, “I’m okay, Rafe. Don’t worry. It hurt a little bit at first, but I did say I wanted it to. You made me feel so good. Thank you for being so amazing last night.” His fingers laces with hers. “You’re welcome, Princess. All I want is to serve you.” They sit in the tub for an hour, just spending the intimate moment together and taking care of each other’s needs. Y/N couldn’t have asked for a better first time with the man she loves. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part seven | r.c

summary:

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

OR; You deal with an intruder, lose your temper and Rafe and you take a shower.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ only! (oral male/female receiving)

word count: 2,6k

author's note: long awaited im guessing HAHAHAH i hope you have survived so far. finally introducing the third character of this series.... you all know him. as usual, happy reading and i look forward to hearing about your thoughts <3

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pt. seven: "tell yourself you can always stop"

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The “intruder” was standing shock still, the two of you staring at each other. You didn’t think that was going to hurt you or anything, but the rollling pin was still raised in the air, ready to strike any second. While you didn’t necessarily share the disdain for pogues as your friends did, it didn’t mean that you trusted him. He broke into your house after all.

JJ Maybank, possibly the definition of a pogue, was standing in your hallway, hands raised in defense as he eyed the rolling pin in your hand. He looked almost bored.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Uh, standing. What are you doing, princess?”

You let the nickname slide, glaring at him.

“Defending myself against an intruder.”

“Intruder?

JJ barked out a laugh, his hands clutching his stomach like he just heard the funniest joke in his life, though he quickly raised his hands again when you pointed the rolling pin closer at his face.

“You just broke into to my house, what are you if not an intruder?” you asked, affronted.

“I didn’t break in on purpose!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally broke into my house??”

“Hey, to be fair, you left the door unlocked.”

“Are you blaming the victim right now?”

JJ bit back a grin, his hand slowly reaching out to lower the rolling pin. You let him, but remained wary, your arms dropping to your sides.

“What are you doing here JJ?”

JJ took off his cap, running his hand through his messy hair once before putting his cap back on.

You tried to ignore that you thought he was hot.

“I was coming out of Ruby’s and trying not to be seen by anyone, thought I could hide out here for a bit,” he explained and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ruby Evans? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah well that would’ve been good to know before I hooked up with her and almost got caught by said boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Figured JJ would be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Obviously you knew JJ, but only really on the surface. You didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But you knew that Rafe didn’t really like him, neither did Topper, but mostly because JJ was John B’s best friend. Kelce didn’t really have much of an opinion except for the fact that he thought JJ was hot, so that was that. What you did know, however, was that JJ shared the same disdain for kooks that Rafe did for pogues, so to catch JJ on the other side of the island was newsworthy.

“I’m surprised you’d get caught up with Ruby,” you said. “I thought you hated kooks.”

JJ merely shrugged, grinning at you.

“Why deprave the female population of the other side of the island of an experience with me only because of something they can’t change?”

You snorted, biting back a laugh because you knew that if he thought you thought he was funny, it was over for you. JJ took the moment to let his eyes wander over you, and you stopped yourself from wrapping the linen shirt around your exposed body. This was your house and you weren’t gonna let someone else make you feel uncomfortable. Much less a guy.

“Had a pool party?”

“Something like that,” you replied, meeting JJ’s gaze straight on. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his boyish grin growing.

“Should I take it personally that I wasn’t invited?”

You gave him a look and JJ winked at you, before his face lit up, like he remembered something.

“Hey, your parents are organizing the spring fling, right?”

“Yes, why?” You asked back, suspicious.

“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need some money to fix up my bike, and the country club always pays well. But the hostess kind of hates my guts, so she’d never hire me if I applied for the job. You think you could put in a good word for me?”

It was odd how JJ was able to switch from sarcastic to bashful the minute he needed something from you. You had heard from other girls that he was something of a womanizer, and the fact that he just came out of Ruby’s house just proved the point. So you tried not to put much worth on the grin he was giving you.

Most people would probably call it charming. You weren’t most people.

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool,” JJ said, honest to god pointing finger guns at you. This guy was unreal. He turned to leave the way he entered - through the patio door - but before he shut the door, he looked back to you, one foot already out of the house. “You’re not so bad for a kook, princess.”

JJ slipped through the small gap, closing the sliding door behind him. With a deep sigh, you locked the door, pulling down the blinds for good measure before you headed back to the kitchen. You put the rolling pin back in its place, shutting the dishwasher before switching it on, trying to act like that just didn’t happen.

Turning off all the lights downstairs, you headed towards the hallway, preparing to go to bed when two short raps came on the front door before it opened, as Rafe let himself in like he had been invited over. For some reason, it made you mad. You let out a sigh as you took him in and he raised a brow at you.

“You really need to lock the doors when you’re home alone precious,” Rafe commented and you snorted under your breath.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you freed your hair from the claw clip, shaking your head out, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Did you really clean up the mess in the kitchen by yourself?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I would’ve helped you,” Rafe pointed out, annoyed.

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were staying over,” you retorted, just as annoyed. “Or that you were coming back.”

“Why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe’s irritation was evident in his voice and you let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I’m just tired, okay?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling your shoulders slump a little. “If you came to fuck I don’t think I’m really in the mood today, so you can just leave. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned to walk into your bedroom upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. As you stripped down, throwing you bikini and the overshirt in the hamper, you thought you heard the front door shut. You tried not to let the angry tears in your eyes fall as you stepped into the shower, instead, you turned the water on, letting it drench your whole head. Fucker, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that he’d just leave like that. Before all of this, he never would’ve just left.

Then again, you wouldn’t be in this situation either. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even heat the door to the bathroom clink open. Only when the glass door of your shower squeaked, you were made aware of Rafe’s presence as he stepped inside. You really had to work on your spatial awareness. He stepped under the shower stream, the water immediately soaking him up, your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Rafe gave you a displeased look, pressing himself against your backside.

You kept quiet for a few seconds, the knot in your chest unfurling slightly, and you found yourself leaning against him.

“I thought you left.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

Rafe’s voice was quiet as he murmured into your ear, his hand coming up behind you to cup around your breast. You bit back a sarcastic reply, because surely this wasn’t something a best friend would do.

“I wouldn’t just leave when I know you’re upset about something, you think you’re just a piece of ass to me?”

“I don’t know what we are these days,” you muttered, half hoping that Rafe didn’t hear you, but based on the way his hand clenched around your waist, he did hear. He turned you around in his arms, frowning down at you.

“Precious,” Rafe said, his voice tight. “You’re my best friend. Yes, the sex is fucking great, but it’s not worth losing you over. If you’re starting to question our friendship, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked as the day you were born, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes, trying to clear your head. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

Rafe took a step back. It was small, he barely moved, but to you it felt like a mile. You couldn’t go back to just being only his best friend, so before he could move away even further, you reached out to pull him back in, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him. Rafe grunted into the kiss, seemingly hesitant for a second before he all but melted into you, his hand wrapping around your hair to tilt your head further up. You lost yourself in the kiss for a second, your hands intertwining on the nape of his neck before you pulled away when it got too heated.

“I’m too tired for sex,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the warmth unfurling between your legs.

Rafe eyed you for a second, before he nodded, turning you in his arms again, his chest against your back.

“Let me take care of you.“

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the water off, before he ran his hand down your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs. Your breath hitched, pressing further into him.

“Rafe.”

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue lapping up the water droplets that clung to your shoulder. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

His hand ventured further down, one finger dipping into the warmth of your folds and you let out a soft sigh, the stress leaving your body. You had half a mind to tell him to stop, you you found yourself saying nothing. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, searching for something to hold onto while the pad of his thumb stroked circles over your most sensitive little spot of nerves, having you moan out his name.

“That’s it,” Rafe said, leaning further down so he could slip his finger into your cunt, your gummy walls opening up to his digits, your knees growing weak. Both of you were still wet from the interrupted shower, and you should’ve been long cold by now, but all you felt was Rafe’s warm body pressed up against you and the heat coiling in your lower stomach. Rafe’s movements weren’t fast paced, but he applied pressure in just the right places, you felt your orgasm coming in no time.

“Shit,” you gasped, laying your head against his chest, catching Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing a hunger in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, but before you could question it, he kissed you, stealing your breath away. The kiss was the last thing that threw you over the edge and with a small, breathy moan you came apart on Rafe’s fingers, clinging onto him for dear life. As you caught your breath, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, steadying you.

“You good?”

You let out a grunt, squeezing his wrist. “You know the shower is one of the most dangerous places to have sex in?”

“… That doesn’t sound right.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, taking your hands off of Rafe, testing your footing, before you turned, getting on your knees.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” you asked back, wrapping your hand around his cock and Rafe let out a moan, carding his fingers through your hair. “Your dick has been pressed into my back for the past 15 minutes, let me suck you off.”

“If you insist.”

Rolling your eyes wordlessly, you pumped his cock for a but, before licking a strip along his shaft, making Rafe curse above you. You only smirked to yourself, before you wrapped your lips around his cock, knowing that was all he wanted right now.

“Fuck,” Rafe hissed, his grip on your hair tightening, thought you didn’t mind, your focus solely on sucking the life out of him. Your tongue was pressing against the small slit on his tip as you moved your mouth along the length of his cock, hand still wrapped around his lower base, where you couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t a beginner when it came to cock sucking, but you weren’t a professional either. It was safe to say that Rafe was pretty content with your skills though.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you took in as much of his cock as possible, continuing to suck on him, a mixture of saliva and Rafe’s precum smearing around the edges of your mouth, making a whole mess in your face, though you continued unperturbed.

“Shit, you really give the best head prec-”

Your nails dug into his thighs, and he cut off, replacing your nickname with your real name, and you eased off his thigh, sighing softly as the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, hoping it wouldn’t bruise again. It didn’t take long until Rafe slowly started thrusting into your mouth, his hips stuttering that you knew he was close.

“I’m about to come,” he warned you, his voice hoarse and the grip on your hair less hard. You only let out a hum of acknowledgement, not lessening your movement until Rafe spurted his cum down your throat, groaning out your name. You took your mouth off his cock, having swallowed his bitter cum and wiped your mouth, satiated.

Meanwhile, Rafe was leaning on the shower wall, gently extricating his hand out of your wet hair, heaving breaths.

“You’re a minx,” he told you, pulling you up for a quick kiss. You only grinned against his lips, swatting at his bare chest. Nipping on your lower lip, Rafe reached behind you to turn the shower back on, to finally finish what you had come here for in the first place. Together, you showered quickly and thoroughly and as Rafe washed the soapy suds off of you, hands all over your body, it felt intimate but not in a sexual way. You tried not to think about it too much.

When the both of you were done, hands all prune-y, you exited the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe and handing a towel to Rafe so he could dry off. You did a quick run through of your nighttime routine, while Rafe watched bemusedly as he brushed his teeth, but didn’t comment on it. When you were both done, crawling into bed, your hair still damp, you settled into your side of the bed (which was a wild statement in itself, as Rafe turned off the light in the bedroom, before getting in bed on the other side. You were content to fall asleep, safe and soundly tucked in, when Rafe reached under the blankets to pull you close against his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck.

Your cheeks heated, and you side eyed Rafe as he got comfortable in bed, your shoulders tense.

“I meant what I said,” he then muttered, arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever feel like our friendship is changing or this makes me feel like you can’t trust me, you gotta tell me precious. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you mumbled, laying a hand on his, trying to reassure him, even though your heart was racing a mile a minute. Rafe didn’t reply, and before long, his breath evened out, but you were still wide awake.

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author's note: okay real talk, how many of you guessed who the intruder was???

[icallhimjoey]

https://www.tumblr.com/icallhimjoey/769345688851103744/i-asked-for-pyjama-vibe-joe-and-forgot-about-his

Ohhh can we get a soft pyjama and glasses Joey? Like him wearing the combo for the first time because it’s a new relationship and we looooove it. Or us stealing the shirt after freaky time. Or idek! The possibilities!

soft pyjama and glasses joey, at your service Wordcount: 2.1K

---

Not A Wink

“Wait, can you… wait here. Wait, no. Just. Yea… wait here and, also, um... yea, maybe... maybe close your eyes a second…” you pushed Joe away from your closed bedroom door, two hands to his chest.

Joe took hold of both of them as he laughed, easily letting you push him back, stepping backwards down the hall.

“What are you hiding in there that I can’t see?”

You were having a hard time hiding your own smile.

“No, nothing, I just… I’ve got to just check something, quickly. Just in case. Wait here.”

You were the cutest girl he’d ever met. Joe couldn’t quite believe he was allowed into the home of the cutest girl he’d ever met.

“Close your eyes.” You insisted, and Joe couldn’t help laugh more, his arms stretching as you walked back to your bedroom, touching until you were out of reach.

“I can’t see anything from here!”

“Close your eyes!”

Joe gave you a deadpan stare, shoulders dropping, but joy never leaving his face. When you waited by the door, hand on the handle, and looked at him in silence for a moment, he rolled his eyes and finally complied.

“It’ll just be a second,” you said, your smile evident in your voice.

Joe heard a door open, then soft footsteps, some light shuffling, and then silence. He wondered if he was going to be able to tell what needed a last minute wipe down. As if he was going to care about a crease in your bedsheets. You should see his bedroom…

“Okay, ready. You can open your eyes.”

Joe’d been a good boy and had really kept his eyes closed. When he opened them, it was to you stood in your doorway, both hands behind your back, biting down on your bottom lip as you smiled.

Cutest girl in the world.

“Yea? Am I allowed in?”

Joe got to see your bedroom exactly as you wanted it to look every day, but how you never managed to leave it. With everything in its place, no dirty laundry on the floor, no clothes on the clothes-chair, no half-empty mugs on the bedside table and, most importantly, the bed made.

You never made your bed. You’d do it once when you changed the sheets, and then left a rumpled mess behind when you rushed out of bed after sleeping through your alarm each morning.

“Wow,” Joe said, overdoing it a tad, just to fuck with you. “This looks like a hotel room.”

It didn’t. Not really.

“Thanks.” You smiled, ignoring his humorous tone and taking the compliment as if he’d really meant it. When you looked at him, you saw how his gaze had landed on where you slept in your bed. He pointed a finger as he raised his eyebrows.

“Is this from where you send me voice notes every night?” Joe took a step forward, his eyes on you as his index finger still pointed at your pillow.

You nodded, teeth digging into your lip. It was impossible to lose your smile.

“This is…” Joe started, looking at your bed for a moment, scanning the sheets and trying to picture you in that spot. No make-up, pyjamas on. Face in your pillow, phone in hand. In a short while, he wasn’t going to have to imagine that anymore. “This is sort of strange, isn’t it?” Joe mused, turning his face to see you stood in your doorway still.

“Why?” you asked, watching on as Joe sat down on top of the covers, acting like he just took a seat on a throne which made you giggle. “You’re making it strange.”

“It’s like I’m visiting a famous landmark.”

You grinned as you watched him sensibly bounce on your mattress a couple of times, getting a feel for it.

“It is like visiting a famous landmark.” You joked, and then quickly added. “Don’t leave a Google review though, I move around a lot in my sleep and I couldn’t bear the negative feedback.”

Joe laughed as he got back up, couldn’t help his arms reaching out to grab hold of you as your face beamed with pride at making Joe laugh like that. You bit your lips so hard, you nearly drew blood.

For a moment you just stood like that. Close. Holding each other, faces just inches removed, twin smiles about to burst. You weren’t going to get a wink of sleep this night.

“Did you um,” you cast your eyes down to his button-down shirt. To his jeans. “Did you bring a more comfortable outfit?”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking if I brought my pyjamas?”

“Were you planning on watching a film in jeans?”

Ha, he thought. A film. If he’d got the chance, he’d be watching you more than he’d be watching any film this evening. His eyes tended to stick to you with too much ease.

Like right now.

“Or is this a no-bottoms sort of evening?” you challenged light-heartedly.

Joe’s eyes scanned your face a moment as he grinned.

“I brought pyjamas.” He then said, leaning down a little in hopes of sneaking a kiss.

You let him sneak one without any fuss. Warm lips of a warm smile to warm lips of a warm smile.

“In your overnight bag?” you teased, having made a big deal of the backpack he’d walked in with earlier, before dinner.

“In my overnight bag.” Joe didn’t mind how the simple fact that he brought some things over was somehow entertainment he was providing you with. It was either that, or the bad puns he’d make, and a giggle at a pair of soft pyajama bottoms didn’t feel quite as embarrassing as an awkward joke would likely make him feel.

Joe was told to change whilst you made your way into the bathroom to take your make-up off.

You felt real butterflies about the prospect of having Joe over properly for the first time ever. This was the first time you had made plans that extended to the next morning. This was going to be more than just some raunchy touching in your living room before he’d leave just before or just after midnight to go sleep in his own bed.

You were going to be wearing pyjamas around each other.

Brush your teeth in your bathroom before you’d crawl into bed together.

Prepare and have breakfast in your kitchen the next morning.

You swiped a cotton round over your eyes and heard Joe move around in your flat. Just him existing on his own in your space made your stomach flip. Halfway through your facial cleanse, Joe suddenly appeared behind you, and for a moment, you smiled at each other in the mirror. He was still in his button down, but his jeans had been replaced with a pair of faded black joggers. For a moment you thought maybe he had a question about something, but before you could even ask, he stepped forward and casually placed a dark blue toiletry bag next to the sink.

So domestic.

You refrained from opening it and having a peek inside as you finished up in the bathroom, hair tied up, face clean and bare. You made your way back to your bedroom to change into your own pyjamas and found evidence of Joe left behind. His charger in the socket on the side of the bed where he’d be sleeping. His backpack to the side. His clothes semi folded in a messy pile on the dresser.

Looking at all of Joe’s things in your bedroom with the background noise of him pottering about in your kitchen made you smile so much, you wondered when your cheeks were going to grow sore.

So domestic.

“What do you want to drink?” he called across your flat, and earlier, when Joe had offered you a drink in your own home, it had solely been to make you laugh. This time, it didn’t feel so much like a joke as it felt like he genuinely wanted to do something nice for you. Get you a drink so you wouldn’t have to get it yourself. A simple sweet gesture that probably wasn’t meant to make you feel the way it did.

There were so many things about the beginnings of a new relationship that you didn’t like.

The risk of letting a new person into your life wasn’t lost on you. Letting someone in too quick, too soon. Revealing too much of yourself too quick, too soon. The vulnerability that opened you up to the possiblity to get hurt...

Scary stuff.

But the excitement of it all? The constant uncontrollable smile you couldn’t seem to wipe off your face. The butterflies wreaking havoc inside of your stomach. Giggly breathlessness that turned nerves into excitement. The way all of it could make you feel lightheaded in the good way?

Fucking gold.

With your body in a soft cosy outfit, you found Joe in your kitchen wearing an outfit not unlike your own. For a fraction of a second, the nervous thought of Joe getting to see you in your factory settings crossed your mind.

But then you saw his glasses.

Joe hadn’t yet worn his glasses in front of you, and stood here in your living area now, in a cream-coloured cotton long-sleeved shirt, you couldn’t help the way that made your eyebrows pinch together.

How could a man look sexy and adorable at the same time?

“Glass of–... uh oh,” Joe turned around holding up a freshly opened bottle of wine, but stopped mid-sentece when he saw your expression. “Sorry, was I not meant to–”

“No, no!” you cut him off, and tried your very best to keep the laugh that bubbled up inside. “No, that’s– yes. Yes. That’s fine, yea. I would love a glass, thanks.”

Joe frowned a little in confusion, eyes narrowing, but his smile unwavering.

“It’s just,” you hestitated telling him. Thought maybe he wouldn’t appreciate what you considered to be a genuine compliment.

“Just... a bottle of wine that you were saving for a special occassion that I wasn’t meant to open?” Joe made a face, and it was becoming a little bit embarrassing at how easily he had you in stitches. “Or what?”

“No,” you laughed, and Joe couldn’t help the slight muddled huff of laughter that escaped his nose. This really wasn’t helping the cute allegations. “No, it’s just that,” you tried again, grabbing two glasses from a cabinet and placing them down in front of Joe. “You look...”

Before you finished that sentence, you let your eyes dance over him. The flash of selfconsiousness across his face only endeared him more to you.

“A mess?”

“Cute.”

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were expecting, but you definitely didn’t think the comment was going to make Joe blush so fiercely. Hadn’t anticipated him turning slightly shy as he put the bottle down, dropped his head to his shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut whilst an arm reached to pull you in.

“Sorry,” you said through a giggle as you got trapped into a tight hug.

“Stealing my compliments now, are we?”

“I think it’s the glasses,” you gladly accepted the firmly pressed kisses to the top of your head.

“You think?” Joe pulled back a little and adjusted them on his nose as he looked at you through the lenses.

“Yea, I do.” You smiled, peering up at him, hoping that if you smiled and looked at his lips for long enough, he’d get the hint.

He did get the hint, but didn’t give you what you were asking for before he got both his hands on your face, both thumbs on your cheeks, both pinkies hooking your jaw.

“Guess I’ll keep them on then.” Joe managed to say through a kiss, and he said it like he’d be doing you a favour.

Which, he would be, actually. But he was joking, so you laughed against his mouth, and the giggle made Joe want to eat you alive. Swallow you whole. Squeeze your bodies together until they weren’t able to ever unstick again.

There was an open bottle of wine on the counter next to you, a TV waiting for someone to press play on its remote, and a bed eager for two bodies to occupy it all the way until the morning.

But Joe was kissing a cute girl in her kitchen, glasses bumping into her nose, and felt no rush to move out of the hold you had on him.

Cutest girl in the world.

Yea, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep this night.

---

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Add yourself

[mcumorningstar]

begging for more riff x reader smut 🫣 I’d love if they were in a heated argument over riff buying a gun and riff says something disrespectful to reader making her slap him and then they just immediately go at it from the heat of the moment

Bang Bang

pairing: riff (wss) x reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, kinda toxic but kinda cute, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), riff’s got a gun, (I think that’s everything)

a/n: sorry this took so long I was on vacation. I’ve never done a request before!! Thanks for submitting :) This was more like I don’t wanna lose you sex than heat of the moment but hopefully this is okay!!

Sinking into Riff’s lap was the perfect remedy to a bad day. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, your pelvis pressed to his.

Usually you would be reduced to a puddle of contentment but the hard press and sharp sting of metal pushed against your lower stomach.

Pulling back, you scrutinise Riff for a moment before tugging up his shirt. A small revolver was nestled in the waistband of his jeans.

“Like Billy the Kid, don’t ya think?” Riff smirked up at you, pretending to shoot bullets from his fingers.

God, it was easy to forget, because of his troubles, but Riff was so young.

“Get rid of it,” You stared at the weapon with wide eyes, “I’m not playing around, Riff. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Born to die young, baby-o,” A wide grin plastered across Riff’s cheeks, smug and teasing. He squeezed your hips but you weren’t impressed.

“You gonna be laughing when you’re on a slab in the morgue?” You tried to stand, wanting some distance between.

“Don’t think like that,” He attempted to calm your nerves and refused to let you move away, pulling you closer.

A manicured nail jabbed into his chest, “Because I sure as hell won’t. I don’t wanna be a widow before I’m a wife.”

Riff sighed, his thumb rubbing against the empty space on your ring finger. An empty space waiting for a promised ring.

“They always bring heat. We gotta be ready,” He reasoned with you but your blood boiled as he removed the gun and examined it.

You scoffed, “This shit is so stupid, Riff!” You shoved his chest and rose from his lap, storming into the bedroom.

Riff followed you with a heavy sigh and heavy footsteps. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You expect me to go in there with nothing but the clothes on my back?”

“What I expect you to do is use your brain! Your daddy was in the exact same position as these Puerto Ricans you’re going to war with!”

“He was nothing like them.”

“Why? ‘Cause he speaks the language?”

It was a low blow but you wanted him to know how it looked.

“Don’t turn this into something it isn’t! This is a turf war,” Riff tried to level his steadily raising voice.

“Turf war? That slang for prejudice little boys with no jobs and nothing to do but terrorise foreigners?”

“Prej-? You know goddamn well that I’m not like that!Like you know what you’re talking about anyway! I’m not taking life advice from a hairdresser!” Riff snapped and, before he could have the nerve to feel bad, your open palm collided with his cheek.

You stood in silence for a moment as a red mark bloomed against his alabaster skin. It was not the ‘be the better person’ you were trying to drill into him, you knew that, but he pissed you off and it was almost involuntary.

“Shit” Riff jostled his jaw in all directions and rubbed a finger against his reddened ear, “You smack like my ma.”

Your hands cupped your slack jaw, “Baby I’m so sorry.”

Riff spared a glance in your direction as you stepped closer to him.

“Less of the smacking, yeah? I need my good looks or you got nothing to stick around for,” He smiled warily, “I ain’t no murderer, am I?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your thrill at his decision, and smiled softly. Tentatively, you reached up and brushed your fingers against his red cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby. Never meant to damage your pretty face.”

Riff almost melted, his eyes softening, “You think I’m pretty?”

“A real diamond in the rough,” You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and cupped his jaw, “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. Not for something this stupid.”

Riff pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours, “Never gonna happen. You’re stuck with me.”

A smile twitched at your lips. Despite the Jets, being stuck with Riff sounded heavenly. He dipped his head to kiss you softly.

“Never,” He whispered, pulling back an inch, his hot breath fanned across your lips.

“Good, because underneath it all, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known. I don’t wanna lose you.”

Riff pulled you back for another kiss. A clash of tongue and teeth as the kiss grew heated. You needed him to know how true it was, needed him to know how much you needed him.

“I love you,” He panted between the hot collision of lips. A soft moan rose from your throat. Riff dropped his hands to your hips, pulling your body flush to his.

Your nails clawed at his neck, fingers getting lost in his hair.

Clothes were shed, lying in piles on the bedroom floor. Riff hovered over you as you lay back on the mattress, pressing himself between your legs.

Clinging to his bare flesh, Riff trailed open-mouthed kisses along your neck and pulled your leg higher on his hip.

His hard cock pressed against you through his boxers, as his hips began to grind against yours.

A breath moan escaped your lips, “Riff… please.”

Usually he would tease you. ‘Please what, baby?’ he would say, but not this time.

Riff nodded over and over again as he pushed down his boxers and pulled your panties down your legs. The full weight of him rested against your bare skin as your lips met again.

With tender hands holding you close, Riff pressed into you. It was slow and sweat beaded on your skin when a low groan from the man above you vibrated against your neck.

“Ugh god,” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face further against your clavicle, littering messy kisses there.

“Move baby please,” You panted out, rubbing his back with firm fingers.

Riff pulled his hips back a few inches before rocking into you again. He pulled his head out of the shelter of your neck, connecting his eyes to yours.

His hips moved languidly, skin slapping with every collision of his pelvis to yours and pushing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Riff panted, pressing his forehead to yours, “For- for what I- I said. I love you and- and that’s never gonna change. Not for turf, not for nothing.”

The rhythmic strokes of his hips rendered you non-verbal, only capable of moaning and nodding. Your eyes fluttered closed at a particularly hard thrust.

“Look at me, baby,” Riff wrapped an arm underneath your head, the crease of his elbow and the muscle of his bicep your new pillow.

Forcing your eyes open, you met his eyes - a gorgeous swirl of blue and brown in the left.

He’s beautiful.

“Never want to be without you. What was I thinking? Taking a gun? You’re right to call it stupid, baby. So stupid” Riff rambled on. You could tell he was getting close by his loose lips.

Riff mumbled between moans, sloppy kisses and panting breaths against your skin until your chest was soaked in his spit.

It was euphoric. His hand snaked between your sweat slicked bodies, pressed so tightly against one another, to rub circles against your clit.

A loud moan ripped from you and your fingers gripped the back of his head, holding his face so close to yours that you breathed each other’s oxygen. All while staring into the starry night abyss of his eyes.

As the band inside you grew tighter and tighter, you gripped onto Riff tighter. Your legs wrapped around his waist as if he were going to be ripped from you entirely and red crescent moon imprints of your fingernails bloomed against his skin.

“I’m gonna cum. Can’t- can’t hold on,” Riff groaned, doubling down on his efforts between your legs. His thrusts were losing rhythm but he was hitting spots deep inside you and working you with his fingers.

White spots clouded your vision as the band inside you snapped, gushing onto his fingers and cock. The feeling of your orgasm pushed Riff over the edge, whimpering ‘I love you’s’ as he finished inside you.

Warmth bloomed inside you at the feeling and, as you came down from your high, a giddy grin crept onto your lips.

With heaving chests, Riff gazed down at you and a grin equal in size and feeling graced his lips.

“You were right, doll. Nothing is worth sacrificing you for.”

“Oh I’m gonna need that in writing,” You teased, stroking your fingers through his hair.

Riff laughed and playfully bit your jaw until you pushed him off, rolling around the bed with blissful laughter.

He stayed in that night. The gun was gone by the following morning and in its place sat a vase of red roses.