#the way he's sitting in that chair. you're so ... extra ...

[evermoreness]

hi lovely!! i had a random idea for a fic where reader is harry’s kindergarten teacher and he lets it slip to you that single dad james thinks she’s pretty? im just imaging a little 5 year old letting that information slip like it’s the most casual thing in the world and meanwhile james is dying of embarrassment hahahha. i just thought it would be cute :)

— This idea is so cute! Thanks for sharing with me, hope you like it! @iloveremmy

secret crush | james potter

pairing: james potter x muggle!reader

summary: dad!james is definitely ready to love again after some time, he just didn't think it would be harry's kindergarten teacher.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

The small classroom was filled with laughter, crayons, and the chaotic energy only a group of five-year-olds could create. The walls were covered in colorful drawings, some resembling actual objects and others looking more like abstract masterpieces only a parent could pretend to understand.

At the front of the room stood y/n, the most beloved teacher in the entire kindergarten. She had a natural warmth about her, making every child feel special. She was also quick-witted and funny, always finding a way to make the most mundane things exciting. Her students adored her.

And at the center of it all, sitting on one of the tiny chairs like he was some kind of prince, was Harry Potter.

Harry was an interesting child—smart, playful, and with a sass level that could rival a teenager. He had a mop of messy black hair that never seemed to stay put, big green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a personality far too charming for a five-year-old.

He had been extra sassy today, insisting he was "way too advanced" for their ABC exercises and that "Uncle Moony reads him much harder books." You had learned by now to just nod along when Harry said bizarre things like that.

You had taken a particular liking to him. Not that you played favorites (at least, not openly), but something about Harry made you want to protect him even more than the other kids. Maybe it was the fact that he was being raised by a single dad, or maybe it was the way he always looked at you with that cheeky little grin whenever he was about to say something absurd.

Right now, that cheeky grin was in full force.

"Miss y/l/n," Harry said, swinging his legs under the table as he colored.

"Yes, love?" you replied, crouching down to his level.

He leaned in as if he was about to share the most confidential secret of his life. "My dad thinks you're pretty."

You blinked.

Oh.

Oh!

You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry, apparently very pleased with himself, continued. "He says you're too young to have this many kids"

Well, you definitely held back the laughter, but as you didn't have an answer to that, you just changed subjects. You leaned over to glance at Harry’s drawing. It was a messy but clearly heartfelt attempt at a stick figure version of himself and his dad, complete with what looked like… a broomstick?

“That’s a great drawing, Harry!” you praised, ruffling his hair. “Is that you and your dad?”

Harry nodded, proudly holding up his masterpiece. “Yeah! That’s me, and that’s Daddy, and he’s flying really fast on his broom because he’s the best at Quidditch!”

Let's say Harry Potter was a really imaginative kid. He would always say some really funny stories about witches and sometimes, he would full on create new words. Like he was just doing now. You found it cute, but little did you know that it was actually all true.

You grinned. “I bet he is.”

Harry’s little legs swung as he beamed. “Yeah! And he says he used to be the best Seeker at Hogwarts! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

“That’s a great dream,” you said, genuinely warmed by how much Harry admired his father.

James was tall, lean, and had the same messy hair as his son. He was dressed casually, but there was something effortlessly charming about him. And then there were his eyes—warm, hazel, and currently widening in horror as he realized what his son was in the middle of saying.

"And my dad also said—oh, hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal nuke seconds before.

James, who had clearly heard enough, looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Harry," he started, his voice a little strained, "what exactly have you been telling Miss y/l/n?"

Harry, completely unfazed, gestured at his teacher. "I was just telling her how you think she's pretty."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You found it cute how a grown man was becoming all flustered right now.

“I mean—” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something along the lines of you being… you know… a good teacher.”

Harry frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

James glared at his son. A warning look. A look that screamed drop it, drop it now, child.

Harry, of course, did not drop it.

James let out an awkward, nervous laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, um, I don't know where he got that from—"

"You said it last night," Harry reminded him. "When you were talking to Uncle Pads and you said—"

"Okay, that's enough, kiddo!" James cut in quickly, picking up Harry like he was a sack of potatoes. His face was an interesting shade of pink now. "Time to go, say goodbye to your teacher!"

Harry, enjoying this far too much, gave you a knowing look before waving. "Bye, Miss! See you tomorrow! Oh, and it's okay! My dad only likes you a little bit."

James groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

You, to your credit, simply gave James a bright, amused smile. "It’s fine. Kids say the funniest things."

James, still trying to compose himself, let out a breath. "Yeah. They do."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second. "Though, I have to say, you do have a very smart kid. And very honest."

James gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah… unfortunately, he gets that from his mother."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sad, something that made you instinctively soften your tone. "She must've been wonderful."

James nodded. "Yeah. She really was."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, because James couldn't handle any more embarrassment today, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well. We'll be going now. Before Harry decides to share my entire life story."

You grinned. "That’s probably a good idea. Have a good evening, Harry. James."

James hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "You too."

As he walked out, still carrying a smug-looking Harry, you couldn't help but shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

James Potter, huh?

This was going to be interesting.

As soon as they were outside, James crouched down and gave Harry a look of pure exasperation. “Alright, Prongslet. Why?”

Harry just grinned up at him, utterly unapologetic. “I like Miss y/n. You like Miss y/n. Uncle Padfoot said you should talk to her more. I was helping.”

James dropped his head in his hands. “You and Sirius are banned from talking to each other ever again.”

The aftermath

James Potter was dying.

Not literally—he had survived multiple Quidditch accidents, a war, and Voldemort himself—but right now, standing outside of Harry’s kindergarten classroom, he was convinced that actual death would be less painful than the secondhand embarrassment he had just experienced.

His five-year-old son, his sweet, traitorous, utterly clueless son, had just casually exposed his very real, very secret crush on Miss y/n.

He was never showing his face in that classroom again.

…Okay, that was a lie.

He’d be back tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Because Harry loved school, and James definitely wasn’t going to pull him out just because he got caught being a pathetic twenty-five-year-old with a schoolboy crush on his kid’s teacher.

But, Merlin’s beard, how was he supposed to look you in the eyes again?

But instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, because—screw it—he wasn’t actually opposed to talking to you.

At first, James had been mortified, barely able to meet your eyes when he picked up his son. But as the days went by, he found himself lingering a little longer each time. It started small—asking how Harry was doing, if he was behaving (spoiler: he wasn’t), and if he was making friends.

But then your conversations stretched longer.

“So, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

James nodded, trying to look serious. “Yeah. His, uh… behavior.”

You blinked, looking at Harry, who was currently playing with another student and doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“…His behavior?” you echoed.

James cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s, uh, very concerning.”

You folded your arms, clearly humoring him. “What exactly is concerning about it?”

James hesitated. “Well. You know. The talking thing.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “The talking thing?”

James sighed, knowing you weren’t buying it. “Yeah. You know. The way he just… talks. No filter. Says things. About me.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head. “James, you do realize that’s completely normal for his age, right?”

James groaned. “I was hoping you’d say there was a cure.”

You grinned. “Afraid not.”

James huffed, but there was a smile playing at his lips now. “Brilliant. Well, at least tell me—how do I make sure he doesn’t casually ruin my life every time he opens his mouth?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you’re doomed.”

James sighed dramatically. “That’s what I thought.” He glanced at Harry again, who was still happily playing, then looked back at you. “Well, I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything too bad.”

You smirked. “Oh, no, just that you think I’m really pretty and smile a lot when you talk about me.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, why would you repeat it?”

You laughed. “Because it’s funny.”

James shot her a look. “For you, maybe.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Oh, come on, James. It’s not that bad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m going to be forced to relocate and change my name now, right?”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” James deadpanned. “I’ll be John Smith from now on. You’ve never met me before in your life.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Well, John Smith, if it makes you feel any better…” you hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice softer. “I don’t mind what Harry said.”

James froze.

Your eyes were warm, teasing but also… something else.

And suddenly, James realized—maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought.

Maybe Harry had just given him the best excuse in the world to talk to the woman he’d been secretly crushing on.

And maybe—just maybe—he was okay with that.

For the first time that day, James grinned.

“Well then,” he said. “In that case, I think I can survive the humiliation.”

You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

From that day forward, James’s routine of picking Harry up from school became a little different.

At first, he told himself he was just being polite—nothing wrong with staying an extra minute or two to talk to Harry’s teacher, right? Totally normal. Every parent did that.

Except every time, those one or two minutes stretched longer.

And longer.

Until one day, he realized he was actively looking forward to pick-up time—not just to see Harry, but because he’d get to talk to you.

Getting to know each other

James had fully intended to keep his distance after the Incident—as he now called it in his head. He had absolutely not planned to linger when picking up Harry, nor did he intend to talk to you for longer than necessary. But that's not exactly what happened since they had been talking a lot lately.

"Everything good today?" James would ask, standing at the doorway.

"Harry was a little sassy during storytime," you would say, amused. "He insisted he already knew how it ended and started narrating over me."

James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he did. Did he at least get it right?"

"Surprisingly, yes," you said. "Honestly, he’s way too smart for a five-year-old."

James smirked. "He gets it from me, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

And then, the next day…

"Harry told me today that he was going to ‘summon his broom’ to get out of naptime."

James coughed. "Uh. Kids have wild imaginations, don’t they?"

"Mhm," you said, amused. "Though, I have to say, that’s a very specific thing to imagine."

James quickly changed the subject.

And then, the next day after that...

He found himself lingering near your desk, watching Harry shove his tiny arms into his backpack with all the grace of a rampaging hippogriff.

“So,” James started, leaning against the desk, “should I be worried about his academic future, or is struggling with backpack logistics a phase?”

You grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s a phase. I think.”

James sighed dramatically. “Merlin’s sake, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d have to enroll him in some kind of Backpack Etiquette for Beginners course.”

You chuckled. “Well, I do give him stickers when he remembers to pack up neatly.”

James blinked. “That’s brilliant.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Bribery works wonders at this age.”

James laughed. “Noted.”

And just like that, their conversation stretched past the usual parent-teacher exchange.

James found himself not in a rush to leave.

You didn’t seem to mind.

And Harry, for once, didn’t interrupt with any more mortifying revelations.

A win for James.

A week later, James arrived earlier than usual and found you organizing a small shelf of children’s books.

“Expanding their literary horizons?” he asked, stepping closer.

You looked up, smiling. “Trying to. Some of them are still convinced books are just really boring building blocks.”

James smirked. “Ah, yes. The tragic underappreciation of literature.”

You chuckled. “Exactly.” you tilted your head. “Did you like reading when you were a kid?”

James shrugged. “I liked it. But I wasn’t the sit-quietly-and-read type. That was Remus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus?”

“My best mate,” James explained. “Loves books. Absolute nightmare when you try to pull him away from one.”

You grinned. “Sounds like the kind of student I’d love to have.”

“Oh, absolutely,” James said. “Meanwhile, I was the kid causing problems in the back of the class.”

You pretended to gasp. “You? Causing trouble? I would never have guessed.”

James smirked. “Shocking, I know.”

You fell into easy conversation after that, sharing stories about school, books, and the different kinds of students you had over the years.

James barely noticed the time passing.

Neither did you.

"Alright, I have to ask," you said one day, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway. "What’s up with Harry and the ‘Uncles’?"

James blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He talks about Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony constantly," you said. "Are they even real people?" you said, knowing that those names were definitely not usual. Maybe they were imaginary friends.

James tried not to laugh, he couldn't explain it to you in a detailed way, you were a Muggle after all. "Padfoot and Moony are my best mates. They are very real. It's just their nicknames. Padfoot is Sirius, Moony is Remus."

You smiled, trying to understand why they were even called that. "I swear, sometimes Harry sounds like a tiny old man when he quotes them."

James laughed. "That… yeah, that tracks. They’ve been around his whole life."

You smirked. "So, which one gives the worst advice?"

"Oh, definitely Sirius," James said immediately. "He told Harry once that he could read his mind and my poor kid spent the rest of the week scared to think"

You burst out laughing. "That’s terrible!"

"I know!" James said, grinning. "Remus had to be the voice of reason that day, convincing Harry that his uncle couldn't read his mind"

The small talk everyday was becoming a habit.

James would ask about your day, and you would roll your eyes and dramatically recount whatever chaos had ensued in your classroom—kids throwing crayons, glue disasters, the occasional crying over absolutely nothing. You were expressive, funny, and had this energy that James found… comforting.

You, in turn, asked about James—not just about Harry but about him. His work, his hobbies, things he liked. And James found himself telling you, actually enjoying your chats instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words like he thought he would.

But, of course, Harry noticed.

"Dad," Harry groaned one afternoon as James leaned against the classroom doorway, chatting away with you while other parents picked up their kids. "You’re doing it again."

James blinked down at his son. "Doing what, Prongslet?"

Harry huffed dramatically, grabbing his tiny backpack. "Talking and talking and talking."

You burst into laughter. "Oh no, Potter, you’ve been caught."

James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Maybe I like talking to your teacher, kiddo."

Harry groaned even louder, stomping toward the door. "Ugh, come on! We're always the last ones now!"

You laughed, nudging Harry’s nose playfully. "Oh, come on, am I that bad?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "No, but Daddy talks to you too much."

James cleared his throat. "Well, I just—y’know—parent stuff. Making sure you’re doing okay."

Harry squinted at him. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dad."

You smirked. "Guess I must be very interesting, huh?"

James ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Uh… yeah. I mean, no—I mean—"

You just chuckled and waved at Harry. "See you tomorrow, little tornado."

Harry grumbled something under his breath about adults being annoying and led the way out.

James followed, but not before sneaking one last glance at you.

Getting some advice (from the professionals)

By the time a couple of weeks had passed, James knew he had to do something.

Because this? This standing-in-the-doorway-every-day-for-way-too-long thing? This was not normal behavior. He wasn’t just talking to you about Harry anymore. He liked talking to you, period.

And that? That was terrifying.

You were the first person he’d felt anything for since Lily. It wasn’t the same—Lily had been his great, big, all-consuming love. But you? You were warmth, laughter, easy conversations, and teasing smiles. And that was something.

Which meant he was going to do the scariest thing he’d done since facing off against Voldemort.

He was going to ask you out.

Sirius and Remus, of course, had opinions.

"You just gotta charm her, Prongs," Sirius said confidently, lounging on James' couch. "Lay it on thick—tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, maybe throw in a ‘your eyes shine brighter than the stars’—"

Remus snorted from his chair. "Yes, James. Do that. That definitely won’t make her think you’re a lunatic."

Sirius furrowed his brows at his boyfriend "Hey! I think it worked wonders when i charmed you to like me"

Remus gave him a look "When did exactly you charmed me, pads?"

Sirius was quick to answer "Second year, of course, and it worked!"

Remus was trying not to laugh "Do you actually know that it didn't work, i just liked you back?"

Before Sirius could even snap back, his face surprised, James groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don’t need to charm her. I just… need to not make a fool of myself."

Sirius smirked. "Well, that’s impossible. But, hey, shoot your shot."

James was pacing his living room, gripping his hair. "I can’t do it. I can’t do it."

Sirius was looking deeply amused. "You, the James Potter, too scared to ask a woman out? This is history in the making."

Remus, sitting in an armchair, gave a long-suffering sigh. "James, it’s just coffee."

"Just coffee? Moony, I haven’t dated since Lily!" James threw his hands up. "What if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a terrible father for even thinking about dating?"

"Mate," Sirius said, sitting up. "I promise you, the last thing she’s thinking is that you’re a terrible father. She likes you."

James scoffed. "She doesn’t like me."

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yeah? Then why does she always smile at you? And laugh at your terrible dad jokes? And talk to you for an eternity?"

"That’s just—she’s nice!" James insisted.

Remus gave him a knowing look. "James. Just ask her."

James groaned. "Fine. But if I make an idiot of myself, I’m blaming both of you."

He was really going to ask you out.

Taking actions

It was a Friday afternoon. James had spent the entire day hyping himself up. This was it. No more standing around like an idiot. No more pretending he was just talking about Harry.

He was going to ask you out. Casually. Coolly. Like a totally normal, smooth person.

(He was absolutely not smooth.)

"Hey, y/n," James started as he leaned on the doorway of the classroom, trying to look relaxed.

You, who was organizing a chaotic pile of paper, looked up and smiled. "Hey, Potter. You’re right on time for the usual end-of-the-day complaints from your son."

Harry, currently sulking with his backpack, threw up his hands. "They played ring around the rosie today! Do you know how boring that is?!"

You laughed. "What, not exciting enough for you?"

"No!"

James smirked. "That’s tragic, mate."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can we go now or are you gonna talk for twenty years again?"

James cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Actually," he said, looking at you, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime."

You blinked. "What?"

James internally panicked. "Casual coffee. Like—like two people, drinking coffee, talking, existing in the same space—"

You raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out?"

James wanted to die. "I—I mean—yeah? But, like, you don’t have to—"

You grinned. "James."

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"I’d love to."

James froze. "Wait. What?"

You smirked. "I said yes, Potter. You good?"

James stared at you, processing, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh. Well. That’s… good. That’s great. That’s—"

Harry groaned. "Finally!"

James turned to him. "Oh, what now?!"

Harry threw his hands up. "It took you forever to ask her! I thought you were never gonna do it!"

You laughed. "Seriously?"

James groaned. "Can’t anything be a secret in this family?"

You just smirked. "Apparently not."

James, still grinning, nodded. "Alright then. Coffee it is."

And for the first time in a long time, James felt something that wasn’t just surviving. He felt happy.

[thefairywithboots]

Sweet Rest (Loki x fem!Reader)

As requested by @stilleobjection, I present to you Sweet Rest.

Summary: Loki helps you relax after a stressful day at work.

Ratings: General audiences

Warnings: Just pure fluff. Lots of cuddles.

Word count: 1.4K

This is my first non-smutty Loki fic. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Tag list in comments

It was well after midnight when you finally got home from work and unlocked the door to your apartment, wanting nothing more than to sink into your bed and just forget the day.

Your boss had insisted that you stay overtime and finish the extra paperwork that was left behind by your coworker, causing you to leave five hours later than you normally would.

When you finally got back to your apartment, your head was pounding against your skull. You went into the kitchen and filled the teapot with water to brew some tea. You left the pot on the stove to boil before going into the living room.

When you switched the light on, your heart gave a jolt when you saw a familiar figure sitting in your armchair.

"Christ, Loki- couldn't you give me some kind of heads up that you were coming over?" you breathed out, placing a hand over your heart. You had given him a key to your apartment but had not expected him to come over while you were gone, and just wait in your living room with the lights out.

Loki was sitting there, his arms on either armrest. His long black hair which was usually slicked back hung loose past his shoulders. Even through your stress-induced headache, you could not help but notice how gorgeous he looked right now.

"Well, you weren't answering your phone," he said while standing up from the chair. His tall frame took up a large portion of your living room. You had to crane your neck back to look up at him. "And you're usually not gone for this long, so I thought I would come and see what was wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," you said while rubbing your hand over your forehead to try and ease the pain in your head. "My boss was just making me work enough for both me and my coworker since she left work early today."

Loki's gaze softened as he tilted his head to the side, humming softly. "That doesn't really seem fair to you, does it?"

You shrugged. "I'm getting paid more by the end of the week, so I suppose it's worth it."

The sound of the teapot whistling in the kitchen caught your attention, and you ran back in there to take it off the stove.

While you were tending to the tea, Loki followed you into the kitchen, his tall frame towering over you as he leaned over your shoulder, and placed his hands on your arms. "I think I have a good idea as to how to help you relax." His voice had a way of slithering into your mind as if he were using his magic on you when it was just his voice alone. He kissed down your jawline and to your neck, pulling you against his chest.

Any other night, you would have melted into him and dragged him off to your bedroom to get lost in him completely. But now you felt like all you wanted to do was have your tea and go to sleep.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lips against your skin for a moment. You would have let him kiss you all over all night if you thought he would stop there, but he was already massaging your breasts through your blouse.

You shook your head slightly, pulling away slightly. “Not tonight, Loki… I have a headache and it’s been a long day.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not in the mood? You’re always in the mood… are you ill?” He dramatically put a hand to your forehead as if to check your temperature.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “It’s just been a long day, and I’m really tired.” You leaned against his hard chest, laying your head on his shoulder. “I’d like it if we just sat and cuddled for a while.”

Loki’s arms wrapped around you, his chin resting against the top of your head. “Of course, darling… I just want you to feel relaxed.”

Loki told you to go and make yourself comfortable on the sofa and he would bring you the tea. You dimmed the lights, the slightest light making your brain want to jump from your skull.

He brought the tea into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you before pouring you a cup.

“Here you are, darling…” he said while handing you the cup and saucer. You took a sip, the familiar warmth of chamomile relaxing you slightly.

“I really hate my boss…” you muttered.

“Oh? And why is that?” he asked while walking around to the back of the sofa. For a moment, you thought he was going to grab a blanket until you felt his strong hands on your shoulders.

He began to knead the sore muscles in your shoulders, and you resisted the urge to moan out loud. His touch was deliberate and skilful, loosening the strain that had been building up in you all day.

“It just… feels like he expects me to cover up for my coworker when she takes off early… and… she never has to make up for any—“ You cut off, letting out a sigh as he massaged your shoulders more rhythmically. “Loki, that feels so good…”

He hummed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. You turned your head towards him at the last moment, causing him to kiss your lips instead.

Heat rose in your cheeks once the kiss broke, and you knew it didn’t have anything to do with the tea. His lips trailed across your cheek and to your neck as his hands continued to work your shoulders. The feeling of his lips made you want to melt into him and forget the rest of the world.

Once your muscles were loose and relaxed, Loki finally came around to sit beside you as you were finishing off your cup of tea. He pulled you into his arms, leaning back against the armrest of the couch. You sighed, snuggling into his hard chest as you settled between his legs, allowing him to envelop you in his warmth.

You could have laid there in his embrace all night, feeling so safe and secure with him wrapped around you. The sound of his heart beating could be heard gently as you rested your head over where his heart was.

“I’m sorry for startling you when you first came in…” he said gently while twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

You hummed softly, inhaling his scent; a warm, earthy aroma that had floral undertones. “I’m glad you’re here…”

One of Loki’s arms reached behind him as he took one of the books that was lying on the table next to the lamp. He turned the lamp on the dimmest setting so as not to disturb your eyes as his eyes scanned the cover.

“Jane Austen, huh?” he mused while flipping through the giant tome. It had four novels in one volume.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling as you saw his blue eyes scanning over the pages.

“Loki?”

“Hm?”

“Can you read to me?”

The feel of his lips against the top of your head felt soothing. “I thought you had a headache.”

“I like the sound of your voice… it’s soothing.”

A small smirk came across his handsome face, as his hand began to idly massage your scalp. “Very well. Which of these would you like for me to read to you?”

You hummed. “Whichever one you want. I’ve already read them all.” You buried your head into his chest.

You felt as if you could feel him smirk as he flipped through the book, trying to decide which one appeared the most interesting to him. Every move he made was soft and delicate as if he were afraid of disturbing you. Even the sound of the pages turning was soft and quiet.

Loki began reading to you in a low, gentle tone, and you recognized it as the beginning of Sense And Sensibility. The sound of his voice made his chest rumble against your ear, and you could already feel yourself begin to doze off in his arms.

You must have fallen asleep before he could finish the first chapter, because the next thing you knew, he was pulling a blanket over your shoulders before wrapping both arms around you, holding you close. After pressing a kiss to your forehead, he whispered “I love you.”

He clearly thought you must have still been asleep. He had never told you that before, your relationship having been casual up to this point. But the moment of vulnerability made your heart swell. You kept your eyes closed and your head on his chest as his breathing slowed, and he fell into a quiet doze himself, before allowing the welcoming tendrils of sleep to pull you back under.

[kekewrites]

LADS Caleb x pervert!reader

Tw: just reader being perverted and gross, reader is going through it, reader being nasty, weird thoughts, horny thoughts, tension

Thinking about a pervert!reader. Being a high schooler and entering a new stage in life where your hormones goes rampant, making you more aware of the opposite gender. It doesn't help how you're currently living with someone so handsome, caring, kind... and so... manly.

Wait- you shouldn't think about your childhood friend like that!

You didn't know when it started. It just happened one morning when you came to the kitchen to eat breakfast, his back seems broader than usual, his tank top showing off his big juicy biceps, and his tall frame-

"Oh, you're awake pipsqueak? Why are you standing there?"

His voice snap you out of your thoughts, shaking your head to rid of them before settling down on the chair. Trying to act normal and totally not conscious of him, you grumble how cold it was in the morning.

Caleb's eyes swept over your form appraisingly, a flicker of something unreadable sparking in their purple depths as they lingered perhaps a moment too long. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest, the fabric of his tank top stretching taut against his biceps.

Damn...

Something in your demeanor struck Caleb as... different. A faint blush colored your cheeks, and you seemed to avoid his gaze. He quirked an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Cold, huh? Well, why don't ya come over here and let me warm ya up then, short stack," he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately—though his touch lingered perhaps a heartbeat longer than usual. 

Why does his hand feel bigger than usual? Or were they always that big?

Thinking about a pervert!reader. Staring at the toothbrush innocently sitting in the cup along with her own. The blue toothbrush and her pink one beside each other, just like those married couple have. The blue toothbrush that had been inside Caleb's mouth. The blue toothbrush that soaks up his saliva mixing with toothpaste.

Caleb's saliva...

I wonder how it taste like?

Your mind snapped as you stare at the blue toothbrush in your hand, your subconscious already grabbed the toothbrush now currently sitting in your hand.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

Nervously gulping, you opened your mouth ready to use his toothbrush not until, the person you're currently crazy about walks in, making you freeze on the spot.

"Hey, did you see where I put my notebook? Huh? Is that my toothbrush?"

Heart pounding, you quickly switch the toothbrushes, your face burning with embarrassment as you turn to face Caleb. You try to keep your voice steady, but it comes out in a panicked squeak.

"N-no, of course not! I mean, I was just… I got confused and grabbed your toothbrush by mistake." You let out a nervous, slightly manic laugh. "You know how much of a ditz I can be in the mornings!"

You turn away, hiding your flushed face from sight as you begin scrubbing your teeth with fervor, hoping Caleb didn't notice the way your hands shook slightly.

He raised an eyebrow, "Ok? So, have you seen my notebook?"

Pausing your toothbrushing to glare at Caleb's reflection in the mirror, you huff in annoyance, "No! I didn't see your stupid notebook."

That was close...

Thinking about a pervert!reader, being extra moody and defensive when you're around him. Totally not because you're starting to see him as a man. Totally not because you're starting to realize how attractive he is.

Starting to feel guilty about imagining some inappropriate thoughts just be staring at him. It would be just a normal hangouts with him, eating popsicle stick with him. Your eyes darting at the way he licks the popsicle, his adam's apple bopping down.

"What's up?"

You froze as you realized Caleb had caught you staring.

"N-no, it's nothing!" you stammered, tearing your gaze away. you could feel the heat rising in your skin.

You fidgeted in your seat, suddenly hyperaware of every little detail—the way his tongue flicked out to catch a drip of melting ice, the flex of his broad shoulders as he raised the treat to his lips once more.

Why is he doing that?!

"It's just... it's cold in here, that's all," you avoided his probing gaze, staring down at the half-eaten popsicle stick in your own hand. You swallowed hard past the lump forming in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Why am I always having those thoughts? I don't wanna be a creep!

Caleb's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied your face, not entirely convinced by your flimsy excuse. The blush staining your cheeks and the way you couldn't quite meet his gaze spoke volumes.

Thinking about a self-aware!caleb, who knows the effect he has on you. His hidden smirk every time he knows what you're thinking about.

Caleb sits across from you, his expression unreadable, eyes shadowed by something you can’t quite place. You tell yourself it’s just your imagination, that the way his gaze lingers is nothing more than coincidence. That the way he angles his body ever so slightly toward you isn’t deliberate.

You shift in your seat, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. It’s ridiculous, really, how easily he manages to throw you off balance. The way his voice lingers in your mind even after the conversation has ended. The way his presence alone feels like an invisible tether, pulling your attention back to him no matter how hard you try to resist.

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything.

Just sits there. Watching.

You convince yourself he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to his lips when he speaks, the way you fidget under his gaze. You tell yourself he isn’t aware of how your pulse betrays you when he leans in just a fraction too close.

But then, just for a split second, there it is. A barely, there shift in his expression, a flicker of amusement, gone before you can catch it.

You don’t notice the smirk he hides behind his next words. You don’t realize that every stolen glance, every shaky breath, every fleeting moment of hesitation and he’s seen it all. And worse?

He knows exactly what it means.

And he's enjoying it.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture.

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.

[bi-writes]

Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.

When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.

As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.

Or something like that...

mail-order bride (18+)

simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."

he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.

you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.

what's so wrong with that?

he's so pretty.

he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.

a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.

condoms. fucking condoms.

no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.

he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.

he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.

it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.

"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."

you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.

"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."

fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.

can you carry this for me, simon?

oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...

can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.

the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?

ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--

your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.

"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."

"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.

"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."

"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"

you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.

you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--

"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.

"baby--"

"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."

when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.

your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.

it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.

you don't stop then either.

some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.

"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"

"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"

simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.

"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"

you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.

"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."

"wot you deserve?"

"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"

"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."

"you promise, simon?"

"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."

[pseudowho]

"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."

Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.

"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."

Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.

"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."

In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.

"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."

Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.

"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."

Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.

Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.

"No smiling, Yuuji."

"H-huh? How did you know?"

"Was I wrong?"

"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."

As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.

"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"

Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"

"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"

"Uh...I guess. Why?"

Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.

"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"

"Nanamin...what's this about?"

"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."

"...so you're just...checking up on me?"

Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"

Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"

"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."

"God, yes, please, I'm starving."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.

Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.

At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.

"Nanamin?"

A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"

Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"

Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."

Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--

"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"

Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.

"Yes. Are you ready?"

"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"

"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."

A pause. "...Nanamin."

"Yuuji."

"Are you fucking with me?"

"Language."

When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.

"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.

Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.

"Darling, we're going to be la--"

"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"

"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"

"--hush. I'll have words with you later."

Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.

"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."

Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.

"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"

You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.

"...you haven't told him."

Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."

You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.

"...a...passport?"

"...Kento didn't tell you."

Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"

Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.

"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."

Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.

Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.

"Our flight...to where?"

"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."

[mintmatcha]

Continuation.

Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.

And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.

He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-

He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.

Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.

Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.

"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.

You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.

"I'm retired."

Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.

"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."

"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."

Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.

"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"

You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.

"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."

Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-

"You twitch like one too."

"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.

"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.

"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.

"Soda water with lime."

"No alcohol?"

"I like to keep my wits about me."

The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.

"You scared the fuck outta him."

"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."

Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."

"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"

He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."

"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."

That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-

"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.

"I do.'

"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."

"It's better if you don't know."

Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-

A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."

"You kill people?" he whispers back.

"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."

It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.

If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.

"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."

"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"

You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."

There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-

So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.

"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.

Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.

[jackmanwife]

Professor!Logan has always been professional, but you can’t ignore the way he looks at you during his lectures anymore. It’s subtle— a look that lingers on for far too long when you raise your hand or a small smile when you answer a question correctly— but it’s enough to make your cheeks grow hot. He leaves you little notes on the papers he turns back to you, too, and you save every last one of them. Study material. “You're smarter than most of my other students,” he praises, but you just giggle out a small "Thank you."

Professor!Logan is starting to catch on. Sitting in the front row, you're doing all sorts of things to catch his attention. Twirling your hair around your finger a little, biting the tip of your pen, crossing and uncrossing your legs. When he looks your way, you make sure to hold his stare, letting your eyes drop to his lips before flashing a small smile. After class, he orders you to stay behind, but you know this isn’t about the paper you turned in. “You’re not just interested in the material, are you, sweetheart?” When he walks around his desk, he doesn’t sit. Instead, he stands in front of you, towering, and you look up at him, keeping your eyes on his. “You’ve been distractin’ me for a while,” He steps closer, and your back presses against his desk, “You want me to show you what happens when I stop holdin’ back, darlin’?” His hand slides up your thigh, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt, teasingly close to where you’ve been needing him all this time.

Professor!Logan knows you're back for more. He’s got his reading glasses perched on his nose, running his hands through the stack of papers in front of him, “This couldn’t wait until office hours?” he asks, not looking up as he marks a paper and flips to the next one. You take a slow step forward, shrugging, “No, I…” He looks up now, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I wanted some extra help.” Logan’s eyes narrow slightly. You swallowed, “I just need to understand the material you taught today better,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your voice wavered. Logan chuckles softly, lips curling into a smirk, “Is that so, darlin’? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems like you’ve got a…” His eyes take you in, looking you up and down, “different kind of help in mind.”

Professor!Logan is usually calling you back to his office after a long lecture. You’re sitting on his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he stands between them, his hands running up your thighs. “You sure you understood everything, sweets?” His lips brush against your ear before he presses a kiss onto it. One of his large hands slips around your waist, his fingers pressed firmly on your back, pulling you closer to him. You nod, leaning into his touch. “That’s good,” his thumb brushes gently over your cheek as he tilts your face up to his, “Been thinking about you all day, you know that?” He murmurs. You nod again, barely able to find your voice as his thumb brushes over your lip, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s just started.

Professor!Logan likes to keep you around now. You walk down the hallway to his office, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. You noticed the light still on under his door and couldn’t help but think about him working alone, grading papers into the early hours. Knocking softly, you step inside when you hear his short “Come in.” When you do, Logan looks up from his laptop, brows raised in surprise before they rest as he smiles. “What’re you doin’ here this late, darlin’?” He sounded so tired. You hold out the cup, and he takes it from you, his hand lingering on yours. “Thought you could use this,” you murmur, watching as he takes a sip, his eyes never leaving yours. He sets the cup down on his desk and shakes his head, “Always lookin’ out for me, huh? Come here,” he pats his open lap, “Keep me company for a while.”

[suncoved]

SALTWATER BLUES ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

CHAPTER ONE — ENDLESS INTERACTIONS!

pairing; childhoodbestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: You return to the outer banks after moving away with your mother at 13, leaving your best friend Rafe, alone and confused with no way out. Now you're back, 6 years later.. and it's an absolute shit show.

series masterlist !

Rafe threw his head back as he snorted his first line of the night, the rush quickly making its way to his brain as his body relaxed. He sniffed more from the intrusion, scanning his eyes over the crowd of people at the party on a normal night in the outer banks.

"My boy knows how to party!" Topper enthusiastically claimed, walking up to Rafe who was sat around the glass table on the balcony.

"Shut up topper" He grumbled in reply, glancing over at the girl following behind his blonde friend. "Rafe, this is Marley. Said she wanted to get to know you"

The girl batted her eyelashes at Rafe, her legs glistening in her very short skirt. "not happening" Rafe replied, preparing the next round of his supply as he waved his hand at the pair in front of him to go away.

"Well, the king has spoken. Sorry Marls, he's been a bit grumpy for well.. always."

Rafe rolled his eyes at Topper's words, not even bothering to watch as the girl walked away begrudgingly.

"When are you gonna move on man, I mean we all loved her but.. she's not coming back." Topper sighed, sitting on the chair next to Rafe. "Shut the fuck up, you don't know the first thing about me and her. " He snapped back, his blood boiling at the mention of you, as it always did.

He was so angry.

So angry that you had left him without a goodbye. So angry that he couldn't hold your hand or cuddle you. So angry he couldn't just have you back.

But what made him the most angry, was that it wasn't angry at all.

He could never be angry at you. All he wanted was you back in his arms, but he knew that was never happening.

And he was yet to make peace with that fact.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"I've missed you so much!" Kie squealed as she ran into your arms, pushing you back as you giggled and hugged her. "I've missed you too Kie. It's been too long," you replied solemnly, pulling back to look at her face for the first time in years.

"Outerbanks hasn't been the same without you" Kiara replied, squeezing you extra tight as she pulled back. You just smiled in response, taking a deep breath of the fresh Obx air you didn't know you missed so much.

"Well c'mon, we have swimming to do." You giggled, pulling off your shirt and shorts to reveal your bikini underneath, feeling the soft sand between your toes.

You couldn't wait for her as she shimmed out of her clothes, looking at her and smiling before running to the water.

You had only been back in the Obx for a matter of hours, digging through your suitcase to find the first bathing suit you could see before running out of your house.

The feeling of the fresh, clear, water on your skin as you dived under waves was unmatched to anything you had felt before. Like before this, you had never even lived before.

All the worries and panic about coming back home dissipating the second you touched the sea.

You don't know how long you were swimming, but the second you came back to consciousness the sun was setting over the horizon.

As you swam back to the shore, you heard a bustle on the sand in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at the commotion, your feet finding their way to the sand below you as you walked out of the water.

Having only spent about 6 hours back in the Outerbanks, you hadn't yet become acquainted with the nightlife of the teenagers of Kildare.

You heard your name being yelled behind you as you walked up the beach to your towel and clothes, turning around to see Kiara now fully dry and fully dressed.

"Oh my god, you were swimming that whole time? I thought you went home!" Kie gasped as you noticed a red solo cup in her hand.

"I always lose track of time out there. What's all this?" you questioned, looking around at the crowds of teenagers and music pumping in your ears at the once peaceful boneyard.

"Kegger, Wait! C'mon, The boys will be so happy your back!" She enthusiastically replied, pulling you towards the crowds while you were still drying off with your towel.

"Wait Kie!" you gasped, much preferring that she gave you the chance to put on some clothes first.

"Guys! Look whose back" Kiara exclaimed, pulling you out from behind her to see the trio of troublemaking pouges from your childhood.

"Hey, no way! The kook princess is back in town" JJ gasped, pulling you in for a hug as you smiled. "Hey J"

You were never that close with the Pouges, because well you were never in the same circle as them. Though, Pope's dad Heyward knew your father from childhood and was at your house from time to time.

After exchanging hugs with the rest of the boys, they soon went into a conversation about god knows what, letting you have the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

You sighed to yourself as you walked down the beach, attempting to escape the commotion of the Kegger. It wasn't dark yet, so you found yourself sitting in the soft sand, staring at the waves in peace.

You were yet to see or hear of the Cameron boy you had been thinking about your whole life.

Wondering what he had been up to for the last 6 years of your life. Was he in college? What did he look like now? Was he tall, handsome?

You had endless amounts of questions, but you were still undecided if you actually wanted them to be answered.

You brought your legs into your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself, letting your head rest on your arms as you stared into the horizon.

You looked behind you as you heard voices, watching a girl climb onto a red buoy that had washed up on the shore. You squinted your eyes as you saw a familiar boy lend her a hand to get down.

Topper.

As Sarah looked over the shore from her view, she noticed you sat alone. And i mean, you're someone people never forget, and along with the fact she hadn't stopped hearing about you from her older brother since she could remember.

You hear your name from behind you as you turn, seeing Sarah run up to you with Topper following cluelessly behind.

"Hey Sarah" You sigh, trying to be as enthusiastic as possible but you can't help but crave silence right now.

"What're doing back here, I thought I'd never see you again" She exclaims, leaning down to hug you. "Can't get rid of me that quick"

"Hey Topper" You spoke, watching as he nervously peered at you behind Sarah.

As much as you loved Sarah, you guys were never close. Sure you could have a good conversation with her occasionally, but you were always closer to Topper, because well, where you went, Rafe went.

You watched as someone called Sarah's name, making her turn around and walk towards the voice. Leaving you and Topper alone on the shore.

Instead of following her, he took a seat next to you on the sand.

"We've missed you a lot y'know" He sighed, shuffling closer to you as you turned to him "He's not doing good, at all. He needs you"

You felt a tear making its way down your cheek at the mention of Rafe, turning away quickly to wipe it off your face. "See him soon alright, please"

With his last statement, he got up and left you to your thoughts.

When your mom decided to whisk you away back to the mainland, you didn't only lose your father and all you knew, but the love of your life as well.

You and Rafe were inseparable, and you had always wondered what your life would be like if you never had left.

You looked over the crowd at Kie, who was having fun and laughing with her friends. Deciding against having the whole 'I'm going home now' conversation where you knew she was going to try to get you to stay, you walked the length of the beach back to your house.

You didn't even know how you would go about seeing Rafe again. Were you gonna show up to his house and offer milk and cookies, or hide from him for the rest of your life until you could have plastic surgery to change your face so he couldn't recognise you?

Probably the latter.

You held your shoes in your hands as you walked up the staircase to your room, your dad nowhere in sight, and the house as quiet as it was in your childhood.

You sighed as you flicked the light on in your room, the sky outside now pitch black.

You immediately start pulling off your shirt and shorts which were over your bikini. The mixture of the sand and the still-damp swimsuit making you squirm.

You look over to your balcony and realise your curtains are still open, making the wise decision that you should probably shut them before completely stripping, you walk over to the window.

You reach to each side of the fabric, beginning to pull them into each other before your eyes are cast to the light in front of you from outside.

You look over to the bedroom opposite yours out the window, clothes strewn across the floor, the bed unmade... Oh! and your childhood best friend staring right at you in utter shock.

Shoot, there goes your master plan.

[navybrat817]

You're a Firework

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're all set to watch fireworks with the gang and Bucky can't keep his hands to himself. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, semi-public sexy times, pet names, inner monologue, established relationship, humor, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I KNOW it's Steve's birthday, but my muse demanded Stud and Smartie. ❤️ I'm so sorry, lovelies. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You know,” Natasha began as she handed you a drink. “You and Bucky could've had your wedding today. No one would have objected.”

“With Steve's birthday right around the corner? And take away from Sam’s amazing barbeque? No way,” you smiled, stepping out of the way as Clint walked by with sparklers in each hand. You refused to take attention away from either of them. “I’m glad we’re all hanging out though.”

Today was a good day. Not only was the weather as close to perfect as it could get, not too warm or too cold, it was a chance to get together and mingle since everyone had a few days off. Between the sunshine, food, and games, the gang had a lot of fun. You imagined your wedding reception would be fun, too.

Maybe the two of you could even have sparklers to celebrate, if only to entertain Clint.

“Bucky called you his wife earlier,” the redhead commented.

“He did?” You smiled, your heart swelling.

“He did. When you beat Sam at horseshoes, he looked right at Steve and said, ‘that’s my wife' with a huge smile on his face.”

Yeah, I am. Almost.

You nearly swooned, giving your fiancé a glance as he set his chair by the fire pit. “And that’s my husband.”

Natasha lightheartedly rolled her eyes and nudged you. “Better go and join him then. The fireworks are going to start soon,” she said, heading to her seat beside Clint. The town was shooting off fireworks in the nearby park, but you all decided it was better to hang back. The yard was a great spot to view them and no one had to worry about the crowd.

“Be right there,” you said, shivering as a light breeze rolled in. Sam had the fire going, but you hadn't realized how chilly it was now that it was dark. Grabbing your blanket from your bag nearby, you also realized as you walked over to the gang that there wasn't a place for you to sit. Bucky looked your way with a gentle smile and patted his thigh before you could ask if there was an extra chair available inside. You caught a glimpse of heat in his eyes as you made your way closer.

You loved that look.

“Is that my seat?” You asked.

“This could be your seat.” Bucky pointed at his face as you bit your lip. If everyone wasn’t around, you’d consider it. “But this one might be more comfortable to watch the fireworks,” he added, patting his massive thigh again.

His face. His thigh. Both were incredible places to sit.

“Yeah, comfortable. That’s the word,” you teased, shrieking as he dragged you onto his lap once you were within reach. You were lucky you didn't spill your drink. “Easy, tiger.”

He growled and nuzzled your neck once you situated yourself and placed your drink the cup holder. “This tiger will also keep you warm,” he promised.

“Aww. You two are just the cutest,” Sam said, swigging his beer with a chuckle when Bucky huffed.

“Yeah, we are. And in case you forgot, my girl kicked your ass earlier. Beauty, brains, and brawn,” he boasted. You didn’t have to look back to see the smug smile on his face. “Proud of you.”

I will not get giddy or aroused from that praise.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll get you next time,” Sam scoffed, looking over at you with a smile to let you know it was in good fun. He was a good guy, like Steve. You hoped they each found someone who made them feel the way Bucky made you feel.

“Or she’ll kick your ass again,” Bucky said without skipping a beat.

Oh, boys. So endearing. So competitive.

“Enough of that. Sam, I’m pretty sure I got lucky and I’d love a rematch. Stud, you just concentrate on keeping me warm,” you teased, draping the blanket over both of you. His embrace was always warm. “Surprised we don't have s’mores.”

“Those are for after the fireworks,” Steve said from the other side of you.

You smiled over at him before tilting your head back to gaze at Bucky. You weren't sure if the guys did it on purpose, but they each wore the same tight fitting T-shirt in patriotic colors. They all looked handsome, but your man looked look sex on legs. The love of your life would always turn your head.

“Not for us,” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your shoulder as his hand rested possessively on your hip. “We’re going to bed.”

You giggled and snuggled back against him when the rest of the gang protested. “But what if I want a s'more?”

“I’ll personally make you one and feed it to you in bed,” he half growled.

“You’re really not going to stay up with us?” Steve asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Oh, I’m sure something will get up,” Natasha deadpanned, making everyone laugh. She wasn't wrong.

“On your birthday, we’ll stay up as late as you want. Tonight, we’re watching the fireworks and going to bed,” Bucky grumbled, brushing a finger over your engagement ring. “Unless you really want to stay out here.”

You giggled again. Bucky had to share your attention with everyone all day and was still sharing it now. He was more than ready to have you all to himself. You understood the feeling.

“I’m fine with going inside after the fireworks. We’ll check on the cats and then go to bed,” you assured him.

With everyone drinking, you all decided it was better to crash in the same place instead of going home. Neither of you wanted to leave Alpine or Soot at your place though in case any neighbors decided to shoot fireworks off the roof, so you brought them over. They had a space set up under the guest bed with some white noise to help block out some of the sound. Anything to help put them at ease.

Bucky tilted your chin a bit more to place a soft kiss on your lips, the tension crackling like the fireworks had already started. “Thank you, Smartie.”

“You’re welcome, Stud.”

As if on cue, the show began.

You looked up at the sky in awe as the first firework rushed into the air. An explosion followed by a vivid display of light, they were like rainbows in the night brightening the darkness with color. They were beauty and wonder, a form of art that faded almost as quickly as it was created. Watching with loved ones made it all the more special.

You tilted your head and smiled when you caught Bucky staring back at you. “Why aren't you looking at the sky?”

“Why aren't you?” He teased, bumping his nose against yours. “Besides, I don't need to watch the sky when I have the most beautiful view right here.”

Your cheeks warmed. So did your heart. “You flatter me so,” you whispered, looking back at the sky again.

Bangs, crackles, and thunderous sounds continued to fill the air with the gorgeous display. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You almost regretted not having your phone beside you so you could take some pictures.

Though you likely would’ve dropped it when you felt Bucky’s hand move from your hip to under your skirt.

“Stud?” You gasped, quickly looking around as his hand trailed up your thigh. No one was looking your way. They were too occupied with the fireworks.

“Just keep looking at the sky, Smartie,” he said against your ear, your legs opening more as his hand found its prize. “And I'll keep touching you.”

Oh, fuck.

You shivered in his grasp despite the blanket and his body providing more than enough heat. His touch was possessive yet tender and you could feel your body turn to jelly as he rubbed you through your panties. You tried to concentrate on the colors above you, the material damp from his expert touch. And you couldn't stop your heart from pounding in your ears, adding the explosive noises around you.

More fireworks went off, but you blocked out the “oohs” of your friends as he pushed the wet fabric aside. “Bucky,” you whimpered, biting your tongue when he traced a finger along your slick pussy.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he whispered against your neck, teasing your folds. Your hole clenched before the fingertip even touched it. “I can't believe you’re mine. Keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

I’m the lucky one.

His finger breached you, making you gasp and grip his arm. His palm pressed against your clit and you couldn’t help but push your hips down, seeking out more friction. You wanted to take care of him, too. Maybe when the two of you went to bed…

Another finger slipped in, curling and thrusting quickly. If you were at home, he’d take more time in taking you apart. He wouldn't stop until you soaked the sheets and even then he might keep going. And he'd make sure you were a quivering mess, mewling and begging for mercy or reprieve.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, babydoll?” He asked, static pleasure coursing through your body as you climbed higher.

Orgasms were a lot like fireworks. Some tumbled slowly in the sky, like a slow fire that coursed through your veins. Others exploded, so large and powerful that you couldn’t keep the sounds of awe in. Then there were small bursts, the ones that got the job done and still felt good.

You wondered what kind of orgasm Bucky would give you tonight.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, colors dancing behind your eyes as you shut them.

You wanted to shout how much you loved Bucky Barnes. You wanted your love for him to burst through the sky like a shooting star. But you didn’t need to put on a show for him to know you were his. He knew you belonged to him.

But you’d still have to try and keep quiet as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please,” you whispered, ready to fall over the edge as his palm rubbed your clit again.

Your head turned and his mouth slanted against yours to swallow down your moan. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his fingers curling once more as you listened to his command and watched the colors light up his blue eyes. “And come for me.”

Your walls pulsed as the finale began, your cry drowned out by the rapid booms. Your wetness coated his fingers, every nerve cell vibrating as brilliant hues illuminated the sky. The hues swirled in your dizzying head, too. You were flying. Sinking. Floating.

You were a firework.

“Beautiful,” Bucky whispered, guiding you back to him.

Your body stayed lax against his, wishing he didn't have to take his fingers out. “You’re beautiful,” you exhaled, watching him subtly bring his hand to his mouth to taste your release. “Menace,” you added.

This man. I really just let him finger bang me with everyone sitting around.

“Yeah, I am,” he smiled, placing another kiss on your lips as Steve and Sam got up. Natasha and Clint were already up, too, to get more drinks.

If anyone knew what happened, they didn't draw any attention to it.

“Those were even better than last year,” Sam said.

“They were. And now we can have s'mores,” the blonde smiled, stopping to look at his best friend. “I thought you two were going to bed.”

“In a minute,” Bucky said, shifting his hips under yours to let you feel how hard he was. Getting you off turned him on. “Think I need to relax a bit more.”

Yeah, so no one sees you walking around with a raging hard-on.

You wiggled your hips, smiling when your fiancé quietly groaned. “Yeah. Relax,” you sighed, feeling him squeeze your thigh in a warning.

Well, he wanted your attention before and now he had it.

And I’ll make him see fireworks before the night is over, too.

Stud and Smartie need to talk to my muse and make sure Steve has a good birthday. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rafeandonlyrafe]

reserved chair

words: 10.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, past car crash, anxiety/ptsd, shy!reader, virgin!reader, soft!rafe, fingering, female recieving oral, p in v sex, protected sex

you take a deep breath before pulling open the door, eyes scanning the lecture hall. despite being ten minutes early to class, most of the seats are already taken. you turn quickly towards the stairs, climbing them slower than your feet want to, desiring to speed up the stairs to stop being able to see everyone's eyes and just the back of their head.

you let out a second deep breath when you get to the top, only a few students in the back row. you walk until you're as far away as possible from any other students, sinking into your chair the second you're sat down. you allow yourself a moment to breathe before working on getting your stuff out, placing your head down to just focus on lessing your anxiety.

upon picking up your head, you swear everyone's eyes are on you. you glance around towards your fellow classmates, but they've almost all turned to stare at the back row, not even trying to hide looking at you.

“wh-what is it?” you whisper to the girl in front of you, the one closest who thankfully looks nice.

“that's rafe camerons seat.”

“who is rafe cameron?” you question. it's the first week of classes, how could he have already claimed a seat? 

the doors open before she can respond, and despite other students entering without anyone caring, everyone's attention shifts, his energy and presence entering the room before he does.

you instantly know that he must be rafe cameron. his eyes land on you before you can scurry to a different seat, trapping you in place, a slight smirk on his face as he casually makes his way up the stairs, and then down the aisle until he is hovering over you.

“is-is this your seat?” you manage to mumble out. “ill move.”

“nah, pretty girl, you stay right there.” rafe grabs the chair next to you, pulling it closer than the allotted distance between work areas before sitting down, so close you can practically feel his leg hovering close to yours, making you shrink even more in your seat.

you can feel his eyes staring at you, paying no mind to anyone else in the classroom, even as the professor enters.

“do you need a pencil?” you ask, reaching down to place your bag on your lap, knowing your voice just came out pathetically timid and weak.

“nope.” he hums, placing a laptop on the desk from a bag you didn't even realize he was carrying onto the table. you should have known he was the type to write notes on a laptop. you wish you had that kind of funds, but you have to head to the library every time you need to use a computer, already struggling just from the tuition alone.

you nod, keeping your head turned down as you get out your notebook, favorite mechanical pencil, and the syllabus you pre-printed out and highlighted.

“what's this?” rafe questions, reaching over to tap your finger, making your eyes widen at the touch, even though he just taps the bandaids around three of your fingers.

“oh! um…” you move quickly to hide your hand. “i write a lot. i get sores on my hand from holding my pencil if i don't bandage them.”

“shit.” rafe laughs. “that's intense.”

you're not sure if he's making fun of you, if he's mocking or sincere. “yeah.” you just whisper.

“what's your name?” he questions, head tilting to the side out of curiosity.

“y/n.” you mutter out. he's probably the first person you've introduced yourself to at college, even going as far as to manage the extra money to get a single dorm, knowing you'd need the privacy and silence to recover from the social interactions.

“im rafe. rafe cameron. where you from y/n?”

“norfolk.” you whisper your answer, your professor starting to introduce himself, but rafe keeps talking as if he isn't going over the syllabus, and for some reason the professor ignores him.

“ah, nice. im from the outer banks.” rafe nods. “you must be pretty smart to get into duke.”

“i guess.” you shrug. you know your test scores are impressive, and you had plenty of time to start dual enrollment since you were homeschooled for high school. it's why you're technically a freshmen in a class full of sophomores and juniors.

“whats your major?”

“general literature.” you shrug. at least thats your major for now, you are considering changing to research psychology, knowing you have to figure it out soon.

“good class for you then.” rafe chuckles, looking at the screen on the wall, words blown up large to show the name of the class LIT 290: SPECIAL TOPICS IN INTERNATIONAL LITERATURE AND CULTURE.

“what's your major?” you question, whispering while rafe talks at a normal volume. you wait for the professor to scold him, occasionally giving him angry glances, brows furrowed together, but the shushing never comes.

rafe shrugs. “just kinda taking classes for now. i guess im technically in government. gonna take over my dad's development company once i graduate and he retires.”

“oh, like real estate development?” you quirk your head to the side, half listening to him, half listening to the professor as you scribble down notes.

“yup. you've probably heard of the company.”

your brows furrow as you think, not sure why he's so confident about having heard of it before, it's not like you can really name any real estate- oh.

“rafe cameron. cameron enterprises.” you mumble, eyes widening.

“exactly right.” he smirks. “you stay in one of our dorms?”

you nod, you do in fact. there's several cameron sponsored dorms around campus, you're in east campus: cameron.

“i guess that explains a lot.” you take a deep sigh. no wonder everyone was staring at him, why the professor refuses to say anything to him, his family's company practically sponsors the entire school.

“ill let you focus now.” rafe sits forward, hands coming to his keyboard as the professor begins the actual lecture.

you furiously write, nervous to miss any information, not wanting to waste the scholarship money allowing you to take this class.

“y/n.” rafe says, making you jump slightly, forgetting he was next to you, so focused in paying attention to the professor.

“yeah?” you hum, putting your notebook into your bag as the professor ends class, reminding everyone to review the syllabus and get their reading done.

“sit there next week.” he says, tapping the table in front of you before standing, striding out of the class without a care in the world, people stopping in their tracks to let him pass.

--

you can hear their whispers and footsteps, breaking the silence of the evening as you sit on front of your window, desk pushed up close as you take notes, textbook opened up, the lamp on your desk switched on as the setting sun turns the sky a warm orange with hints of pink, making the fall colors in the campus trees looking even more red.

there's a knock on your door, making you jump as the pencil clatters to the floor. you expected the whispers and footsteps to pass. certainly they must be at the wrong room.

you consider staying silent, but want them to go away, not try to knock again thinking that their friend just didn't hear them.

“hi.” you smile as you open the door. “i think you have the wrong room.”

“no, we've got the right one.” you recognize one of the three girls as the girl in front of you in lit 209, the one who told you whose seat you were in.

“im angie. this is chelsea and veronica.” she gestures to the girls behind her. “we saw you talking to rafe. i… kinda overheard some of your conversation. chelsea is also from norfolk and im also studying literature. i thought we'd invite you out to join us at the dining hall.”

it takes you a second to realize what she's asking you. finding commonalities, inviting you out, basically asking you to be friends without the direct words.

“yeah.” you nod. “let me just grab my bag.” you step into your dorm to grab your bag off the book, double checking that your student id is inside to get into the dining hall. you shove your phone into your back pocket before stepping out, not letting your anxiety stop you from making friends, you need at least one person to confide in and hang out with.

“so, where did you graduate from?” chelsea asks, the one also from norfolk.

“oh, i was homeschooled.” you hate having to explain it, but the reason why you had to drop out of public school is the same reason your heart beat is skyrocketing as you head towards the elevator, palms sweating and nervously swallowing.

“oh, nice!” chelsea smiles. “i graduated from maury high.”

you're thankful it's not the high school you pulled out of, there's no way that she would have heard about you, about your intense anxiety after you were in a car crash, then sudden disappearance from school.

the conversation shifts to the other girls high schools, veronica telling a funny story from her graduation. you occasionally chime in, but the girls seem happy to keep the conversation flowing between each other as you head out of the dorm room and through the walkways to the dining hall.

the conversation doesn't shift until you until you're sitting down at a booth.

“so, rafe, huh?” chelsea asks.

“i don't know him.” you shake your head. “i just sat next to him and offered him a pencil, really, that's it.”

“you do know who his dad is right?”

you glance around the cafeteria, even that has signs of cameron enterprises sponsorship. “oh, i know.”

“that's why he goes here.” angie says. “he wouldn't have gotten in if it wasn't for his dad.”

“he's so hot, right?” veronica giggles before taking a bite of her pizza.

“yeah, is he even better up close?” chelsea turns to ask you.

you shrug. “i mean, i wasn't really paying attention.” it's a half truth. you absolutely were aware of how attractive rafe was, but you spent all of the lecture and most of the conversation trying to avoid looking at him for fear of eye contact.

“i heard he's such a bad boy. apparently he broke like five girls hearts last year because he was sleeping with them all at the same time.”

“oh, jeez.” you cringe. you should have guessed rafe was a player, but you also don't know the truth behind the rumors.

the conversation shifts from rafe to about other boys at the school, allowing you a moment to breathe and center yourself, calming down slightly. the girls make you feel comfortable enough that you finish dinner and bid them goodbye without a major anxiety attack, but the second you get back in your dorm, you collapse into the bed and pass out.

--

you stare at the seats, wondering if you really should sit in the same one. angie looks back at you with a gentle smile, mouthing a quick “sorry.” as there's already people sitting on either side of her.

you shake your head. it's fine, you tell yourself, and pull out the chair and sit down, right in the same spot you were at last week.

rafe walks in moments later, a real smile on his face when he sees you. you glance at him quickly before looking down, fiddling with your pencil and writing random gibberish until he's sat next to you.

“so i didn't scare you off?” rafe questions, setting his laptop down and fishing out his cord to charge it. you notice the outlet inset into the table is directly in front of you, rafe having to lean over into your personal space to plug it in.

“we can switch spots.” you blurt out, despite the cord being plenty long enough to reach.

“nah.” rafe shakes his head. “you look pretty in my seat.”

you're not sure how you looking pretty relates, and how you would look any different sitting in the opposite chair, but your face blushes and you stammer something intelligible, making rafe smirk.

“you're real cute, you know that right?”

“oh, i um- noooo.” you chuckle awkwardly.

“even cuter when i make your face all red like that.”

you don't say anything in response, not sure you can even form words as you reach to press your fingers over your cheeks, willing them to cool down.

“i got something for you.” rafe reaches into his bag. he pulls out his computer and then a second laptop, making your brows furrow as he sets it in front of you, along with a charger and bluetooth mouse.

“what is this?” you question. you’ve heard of loaner laptops through the school, but this brand is way too nice to be the one they’re handing out to dumb college kids to give back at the end of your semester.

“a laptop. for you.” rafe says, like it’s obvious.

“i-i can’t!” you shake your head as the professor begins his lecture. for once, you don’t even bother to pay attention as you pick up the laptop and move it back towards rafe. “i can’t afford it.” “it’s already paid for.” rafe places it back in front of you, opening it up. “the password is my name.” he smirks as the screen turns on, illuminating your face. 

“its too expensive, i really can’t accept this.” your hands go to the keyboard despite your words, typing in his name rafecameron. you click enter, the computer unlocking for you to a clean home screen.

“its pennies to me, really. i want you to have it.” he glances at your still bandaged fingers. “so you can stop wrapping your fingers.”

“i-i don’t know how to thank you.” you shake your head.

“oh,” rafe reaches back into his backpack. “i got this for you. its touchscreen.” he sets the pen for the computer next to the mouse. “in case you prefer to write over type, but please, try typing for the sake of your fingers.”

“thank you.” you smile at him, opening up a browser and logging into your email, quickly opening up google docs to take notes, attention turning only half to the professor, the other half of your mind stays focused on rafe smiling at you.

--

“how did i know i’d find you here?” the voice makes you jump. it’s strange to hear rafes voice outside of the lecture hall, even as the weeks have gone by and you’ve hung out occasionally with angie and the few friends you’ve made, you’ve never seen rafe outside of class.

“no one is ever here.” you look around the empty room. it’s a study room, technically met for literature majors, but you’re sure no one would say a word about rafe being inside.

“thats how i knew you’d be here.” he plops down on the seat across from you. 

“do you need help with your homework or something?” you ask. your professor assigned you an essay, maybe rafe is seeking out your help.

rafe lets out a scoff, looking at you with an exasperated expression. of course. you should have known he didn’t need to really try on his homework to get straight a’s.

“i want to take you on a date, come on.” rafe cocks his head toward the door.

“oh!” your eyebrows rise in surprise. sure, rafe has always been flirty before and after class, but you thought it was mostly out of teasing you, riling you up, not serious enough to actually ask you on a date.

“your choice. now or in two hours.” rafe glances at the clock on the wall.

“now is fine.” you also look at the clock. you don’t want to stay out too late, needing to get back in your dorm and work, and you also don’t want to end up at a party, it’s probably your worst nightmare to be surrounded by drunk college kids shouting and dancing.

“perfect.” rafe picks up your bag when you put your stuff away, slinging it over his shoulder as you follow behind him, having to pick your pace up to keep up with his long strides.

“taking you to dinner off campus.” rafe says, leading you out of the building and towards the parking lot. you freeze ups, eyes widening. rafe doesn’t realize you’ve stopped following him, stuck in place on the sidewalk, until he’s feet away from you.

“hey…” rafe says softly, approaching you carefully. “you alright?” “i-i-” you hate how much you’re stuttering, you can’t help it when the nerves take over and your hands start to shake. “i don’t like- um. i don’t like being a passenger.” just uttering the words make that night come back to you, you trusting your friend, getting into their car, only for them to roll it repeatedly, somehow all walking away, but the scars inside of you are mental ones.

“you can drive then.” rafe holds his keys up like an offering. “or we can eat dinner here, whatever you want.”

“im okay driving.” you trust only yourself. maybe someday you’ll learn to feel safe with someone driving you, but it took you weeks to get behind the wheel with even your mom, having to use calming techniques every time you’re on the road.

“perfect.” rafe stays pretty quiet, only making small comments about how to turn on his car (you’ve never been in a push to start before) and how to get to the restaurant. he doesn’t even turn on the radio, seeing how nervous you are, letting you concentrate fully on driving. you do feel better when you’re in control of the vehicle, but the fear of a rogue driver hitting you is always there.

“i want to tell you something, rafe.” you say shyly, now sat at your table at a nice restaurant, wishing you would have changed into something fancier, but rafe doesn’t seem to care, so you don’t either.

“okay.” he nods.

“i was in a car accident in high school. that’s why i don’t like being a passenger. thats why i have…” you take a deep breath. “so much anxiety.”

“hey.” he says softly, reaching across the table. “its okay. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i like you just how you are.”

the comments angie and chelsea come to the front of your mind. “why do you even like me? everyone says you’re some sort of bad boy.” you don’t have to point out that rafe has only ever been nice to you, ridiculously kind and generous.

“when i walked into the classroom that first day and saw you sitting in my seat, looking at me like that…” rafe shakes his head. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. i love that you’re shy. it’s cute, i swear.” “you like my anxiety?” you giggle, sure that no man could actually mean that.

“well, no.” rafe shakes his head, his eyes bright. “i like that you’re like a puzzle, waiting for me to solve.” “i-i don’t know what to say. im not mysterious or anything.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“maybe not, but i want to figure out what makes you tick. how you like to be kissed, held…” rafe raises an eyebrow and you don't need him to say the next word as you're suddenly very interested in staring at your food.

“there's that blush i love so much.” rafe smiles. “you're so gorgeous.”

“there's like, way prettier girls than me at the college. i don't get your interest in me at all. awkward and… shy.” you shrug.

“don't sell yourself short.” rafe reaches across the table, squeezing your hand in his. “you're beautiful. plus, half the girls just want me for my dad's money, and the other half hate me for sleeping around last year.”

“yeah, i kinda heard about that.” you admit, trying to concentrate on your palm to keep it from getting sweaty. “angie told me you were sleeping with five girls at the same time.”

“they were all just hookups.” rafe shakes his head. “never went farther than that with any of them. it isn't like that with you.”

“well… it's nice to know you're serious about me.”

--

“hold your hand out.” rafe says, still sat in the same classroom, the rest of the students long gone, and with no other classes scheduled for the rest of the day, you feel like you could stay here with rafe all night.

you cup your hand and wait for whatever surprise, unsure how anything could beat the laptop he gifted you.

rafe unclips his gold chain from around his neck and drops it into your palm. “for you to wear. if you want of course.”

“is this the college equivalent of giving me your letterman jacket?” you giggle, perception of high school skewed towards idealized versions in books and movies since you missed out on most of the personal experience.

“i would love to call you my girl.” rafe smiles softly, so genuine it makes you almost want to lean forward and plant your lips on his.

“like… exclusively?” you wiggle the chain in your hand, feeling the weight shift around. certainly real gold.

“of course. i told you, im serious about you. i want you and only you, but im willing to move at your pace. if you're not ready yet, ill wait.”

you take a moment to think about it. weighing the pros and cons. con, you're inexperienced. pro, you really like rafe. con, rafe could get bored with you after a week. pro, you really like rafe. con, a boyfriend would distract from your schoolwork. pro, you really like rafe.

you hand the necklace back to rafe, watching the way his face falls, thinking it's a rejection, before you pull your hair up. “put it on for me?”

rafes smile is brighter than the sun as he strings the necklace around you, fingers gently teasing your skin, grazing against you anytime he can while he does the clip.

you smile back at rafe as you turn back towards him, feeling giddy. “so, what now?”

“what do you mean what now?” rafe chuckles. “now i kiss you.”

rafe leans in as your eyes widen, heartbeat skyrocketing as you suddenly shout out. “im a virgin!”

rafe sits back in surprise and confusion.

“im a virgin, ive never had a real boyfriend and ive never had a first kiss unless you count one that happened in second grade with a boy named lincoln on the playground-” you know you're rambling, so you're thankful when rafe cuts you off.

“that's okay.” rafe says. “i like that you're untouched. just means i need to do things right for all your firsts.”

you nod, not really understanding what he means, but knowing that you like the sound of it.

“as much as id love to lay you out on this table and wreck you-” your eyes widen at that very image. “your first time will not be in an empty classroom, and your first kiss definitely won't be either. are you free tomorrow night?”

“im… kinda free whenever.” you admit. you only have homework and studying, but you're willing to move those around for dates with rafe, as long as your grades don't slip.

“well, im about to make sure you are a very busy lady.”

--

rafe doesn't try to kiss you the following night. or the date a day later. or at your next class when you end up staying after again. you expect it to be that moment every time, but rafe keeps it slow, almost too slow.

he started with holding your hand. then wrapping his arm around his shoulder. he finally advanced to kissing you on the cheek, and while you appreciate his thoughtfulness, you're starting to go crazy.

“you're lost in thought.” rafe says, making you shake your head and refocus on him. “i just hope it's about me and not about your upcoming assignments.”

“it's always about you.” you smile. your grades are still perfect, you just spend all your study time working hard to complete everything perfectly and quickly to get back to rafe.

“just what i like to hear.” rafe is sat on the end of your dorm bed, twinkling fairy lights above your head as you just relax, both in casual clothes.

“do you think you could stay the night?” you blurt out before quickly going to explain yourself. “not to… have sex. but just to sleep in the same bed.”

“are you sure? you don't have to-”

“rafe!” you squeal. “i want this! i want you!”

rafes eyes widen at your outburst, probably the loudest he's ever heard your voice, before he dissolves into laughter. “ive been taking this too slow, haven't it?” rafe asks as you pout and nod.

“jesus, ive been trying so hard to hold back and not fuck it up, i ended up just fucking up in the other direction. im not used to caring about girls, or anyone, this much. im sorry, y/n. you dictate the pace, not me.”

“i want you to kiss me. tonight. and i want you to stay over and cuddle and hold me.” you allow the sudden rush of boldness to loosen your tongue.

“then that's what we will do.” rafe nods.

he doesn't kiss you immediately, he waits for the perfect moment. the lights are still on, now set to slowly fade in and out.

rafe is laying facing you, not touching you at all, but you can feel the presence, practically itching to reach out.

you're nervous, but you're not letting it stops you. as the lights dim again, your hear the movement on the bed, and then feel rafe move closer.

the second the lights begin to turn back on, rafe is on you, his lips pressed against yours. he doesn't let your first kiss be a simple peck as an arm rounds your back and pulls you into him. he leads the kiss, leaving you just to follow his movements and not stress about being perfect.

rafe slows the kiss down gradually until he pulls away, both of you taking a deep breath.

“that… was amazing.” you giggle, watching the way rafes eyes light up as you laugh. “oh my god! how have i been missing out on that?”

“wanna do it again?” 

“yes!”

rafe kisses you until you start to feel dizzy, having to remind yourself to breathe as he holds you close, but it's still not enough.

you sling a leg over his hips, attempting to pull your bodies flush together when rafe suddenly turns onto his back.

“i don't think you want to do that, baby.” 

“why- oh!” you're about to question the sudden change of attitude when you look down rafes body and see how your kissing has affected one particular part of his body.

“i can't help that you're really sexy, but we aren't doing this tonight in your college dorm. i need to lay you out and make you cum many times in a place where you can be as loud as you want.”

“should i… put on a tv show until it's gone then we can cuddle and sleep?” you offer, trying to ignore his words despite knowing your face is now beet red.

“i don't know if ill ever be fully soft when laying in bed with you, but that will definitely help.”

--

“you have to tell me everything.” angie says, a plate of fries pushed between you to share.

“oh my god he's just… such a gentleman, which i never expected just based off-” you wave your hands around. “everything.”

“that's good because i don't care who his dad is or how rich he is, if he was treating you bad id kick his ass.”

you let out a soft giggle. “i don't think he's gonna mess this up but if he does, ill remember that.”

you both groan as you glance at the clock. you can only spend so much time talking with your new friend when you're supposed to be studying.

“alright.” you pull out your textbook along with the laptop rafe gave you. rafecameron. you didn't even think about changing the password.

“how many words is this essay supposed to be again?” angie hums, also powering on her laptop.

“2,000.” you roll your eyes. “which is just so ridiculous you know the professor isn't reading everyone's.”

“he probably puts them into some ai grader shit.” angie agrees. you both quickly get to work, even getting a refill of fries. you've found that when you have a friend with you you prefer working in the dining area.

“hey baby, i figured you were down here.” rafe slides into the seat next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “how's the essay?”

“actually im pretty much done.” you shrug. you know you have a talent for writing, but its when the topic genuinely interests you. “just don't really know how to end it.”

“can i help?” rafe asks. you nod and angle the screen towards him, letting him read over the words.

“oh my god.” angie mouths to you, glancing between you and rafe.

you blush and duck your head, resting your shoulder against rafes as he reads, watching as he types out a couple sentences to finish off your conclusion paragraph.

“wait, shit, thats perfect.” you pull the laptop back close, checking the word count quickly to confirm you've hit your minimum amount.

“jeez, can you help me with mine too?” angie asks, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“ill read over it.” rafe shrugs. “afterall,” he looks to you. “y/ns friends are my friends.”

--

you gasp when you get back from your shower to find rafe laying in your bed. he immediately tosses aside his phone that he was mindlessly scrolling on.

“missed you.” rafe tugs on your hips as you step closer. your mouth presses against him, the kisses calming your anxiety rather than spiking it like you originally worried it would.

rafes hands stay on your hips as he pulls you down onto the bed, allowing you to fall forward against him, bouncing softly on the springy mattress.

“you're gonna end up missing me a lot over break.” you chuckle softly, knowing a week off is coming up soon.

“about that…” rafe flips so you're both on your sides, facing each other. “what's your plans? driving home to norfolk?”

“actually, i was just gonna stay here.” you shrug. “the college let's out of state kids stay in their dorms during the holiday breaks and i applied for special permission.”

“well, you won't need that.” rafe says. “that is, if you want to come to the outer banks with me.”

“oh- oh my god! yes.” you nod quickly. despite not living far away, you've never actually been to the area before, and you've grown used to rafes constant presence. you're not sure what a week would be like without him.

“my family is out of town until friday anyways, so we will have the place to ourselves for most of the time…” rafes hand moves to your lower back, tugging you in close to him. you understand the implication and despite everything, you only feel excitement and anticipation.

--

“here ya go.” rafe hands you his car keys. you never had to reiterate your need to be in control of any vehicle, rafe just went along with it without pushing.

“actually…” you swallow harshly. “you can drive.”

“baby.” a smile breaks out on rafes face as he talks softly, carefully helping you into the passenger seat, making sure to keep everything slow and relaxed.

“i trust you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “just… don't speed.”

“i wouldn't even think about that.” rafe says, kissing your forehead. “ive got special cargo.”

you giggle and roll your eyes, surprised how corny rafe has become as you both fall further.

rafe seems to have a sense of when your anxiety spikes. he moves to the drivers seat and just stays there for a moment while you breathe, not even turning the car on until you give him a slight nod.

you can tell he's going the long way, turning around a couple side streets to avoid getting onto the highway home too soon.

“ill go this speed the whole way if that's what you need.” rafe says when he pauses at a stop sign.

“just a little more around the neighborhood and ill be fine.” you assure him. you reach over and lay a hand on rafes arm as he drives, the physical connection allowing you to take a deep breath.

when rafe eventually pulls onto the highway, you find yourself breathing regularly, mind racing through all the coping mechanisms the therapist who saw you after the car crash taught you.

“im… im actually doing okay.” you admit to rafe, leaning forward to turn the radio on but keeping the music turned downed low. “thank you.”

“im just glad you trust me.” rafe reaches over and squeezes your thigh before quickly putting both his hands back on the wheel. “it's a long drive for you to do solo.”

in truth it's not much longer than the drive from duke to norfolk, but you're glad that you can relax as the hour passes. 

everytime your mind wanders, or worry strikes about a crazed driver hitting you, you just look to rafe and allow yourself to breathe.

you even manage to lay your car seat back. 

rafe smiles over at you as he watches your eyes blinking slowly, recognizing the sure signs of sleep as you end up napping the rest of the way to his house.

“darling…” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your thigh.

you wake up with a start, gasping and sitting up, looking around rapidly.

“hey, hey.” rafe says softly, pulling you into a somewhat awkward hug over the center console. “it's okay. you're safe. we're at my home.”

you press your face into rafes chest and inhale his familiar scent. he doesn't bring up the anxiety spike as he gets out of the car.

you're about to step out when you look at your surroundings, jaw dropping at the stunning house in front of you.

“rafe- this. this place is beautiful.” you allow rafe to help you stand, stretching your legs out. your bags can come in later, you need a tour immediately.

“welcome to tanneyhill.”

--

“we'll have to go out on the boat tomorrow.” rafe twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “what do you want to eat? we can make something or we can order in…”

you let out a yawn, the nap on the drive just making you more tired now that the excitement of seeing rafes home has worn off somewhat.

“pizza is fine.” you hum, snuggling closer to rafe on the expansive couch. “your house is very pretty.”

“but…”

“but what?” you look up at rafe. “i mean it's… it's so grand.”

“but impersonal, right?” rafe reads you so well. “it's just not my families style. no pictures of us kids on the wall or sports medals hung up. it's gotta be kept perfect.”

“that's not how i want our house to be one day.” you frown, eyes widening when you realize what you just said.

“relax, princess.” rafe says when he feels you stiffen up. “i imagine what it'll be like to live together some day too. in fact, i think for next semester you can ditch your little dorm and stay with me.”

“move from east campus: cameron to cameron hall?” you giggle at how everything is named after his family.

“exactly.” rafe hums. “because just the walk to the east side of campus is too far from me.”

“you're… too damn sweet.” you press a kiss to rafes lips, groaning when your phone buzzing distracts you from deepening it.

“who is it?” rafe asks, confident it's probably angie or veronica.

“my… my friend from high school.” you quickly sit the phone face down on the coffee table.

“the friend?”

“yes.” you say bitterly, knowing it's not rafe you're really snapping back up but rather the “friend” who still has the audacity to message you even after causing the car wreck that ruined your life.

“it's the anniversary coming up and… i know she's said sorry a million times already, but i just don't want to hear it. i just want to put everything behind me.” you let the words out in a rush.

“maybe what your friend needs for her to heal is to know you've heard it.”

you look at rafe, blinking at him as your mind works. “what are you doing being so wise?”

rafe breaks the tension with a laugh. “honestly, im just quoting back shit my dad has said and hoping it works.”

“can't wait to meet your dad then if he's anything like you.” you smile, trying to keep up the light attitude when rafes face drops slightly. there's such a small difference you barely even pick up on it. 

“rafe?”

“my dad… isnt my biggest fan.”

“but he's your father.” you question, laying back down, slotting your arms around rafe instead of the usual other way around.

“yeah, and therefore anytime i differ slightly from him, it's a huge disappointment.”

“well… then fuck him.”

rafes eyebrows raise up at your bold words, not used to sharing you cuss often and definitely not against someone.

“you're the best and if he doesn't see that, then that's his loss. if he doesn't completely love you, he's out of his mind because he's known you all your life and ive only known for a couple months and i love you.”

rafe launches forward, lips pressing harshly against yours, a mix of tongue and lips sliding over each other's as you kiss. the passion rafe is putting in is unlike any other time, and you know what you want.

“take me upstairs, rafe.” you nod as he looks at you for confirmation.

rafe picks you up, carrying you effortlessly up the stairs until he's in his bedroom and placing you gently down on the soft sheets.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, hovering over top of you.

“im sure. i love you. i want this.”

rafe nods, then gulps. “why am i the one nervous now.” he ducks his head, and you swear you see the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. “i love you too. ive never said that to anyone before but… i love you. i am in love with you. i want you and only you.”

“oh, rafe.” you coo out, sitting up to kiss him. you intend for it to be a soft kiss, a gentle caress but it quickly turns fiery.

“god, you've turned me soft.” rafe says, making you laugh.

“not all of you…” you can feel a certain part pressing against you that is not soft at all.

“yeah, but he'll have to wait. not his turn yet. first…” rafe smirks at you. “i need to worship you with my hands. then my mouth. and then ill take you properly.”

rafe gives you no time to complain as his hands delve under your shirt, stroking the soft skin of your stomach, eyes staying on your face in case even a flicker of doubt comes across it.

his hands slowly move up until he's cupping your chest over your bra, keeping everything concealed by your shirt as you get used to the feeling of his large palms engulfing your breast.

“take my shirt off.” you tell rafe. “im okay.” 

rafe nods, but his movements are still slow as he peels your top away. “you're a lot better than okay, baby.”

you can feel rafes eyes on your chest, but it just makes you happy, wanting to share this with him and only him. you make the next move, reaching behind your back to unclip your bra.

“shh, slow down.” rafes hands cover yours. “i know you want this, but let me just… appreciate you.”

rafe nudges your legs apart and lowers himself in between, pressing kisses against your stomach. his movements are so soft, covering your entire belly before moving up.

rafe kisses over the swell of your breast that's pressing against your bra cup, tongue occasionally flicking out to tease underneath the fabric.

rafe picks his head up to ask if you're still doing okay, but upon seeing your face, he knows he doesn't need to. 

your eyes are already glazed over, blissed out and mouth ajar as you slowly blink down at rafe. “more.”

rafe smiles and tugs your bra away, mouth dropping over your nipple with his fingers find the other side, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the bud as his tongue does the same.

his movements continue until your nipples harden. he pulls away only to quickly switch to the other side.

“feels good.” you whimper, hands finding the back of rafes head, holding him to your chest.

“not as good as it feels to have my mouth on you.” rafe moans against your skin, tongue flicking out to press against your breast like he can't get enough of it.

“you can… you can touch me um…” you're about to say down there which just sounds stupid, but rafe thankfully understands you, his hand reaching down to graze his fingertips over your thighs.

he continues teasing, sweeping every time closer to your center until he delves between, finger rubbing against your covered clit as you gasp, back arching off the bed.

“does that feel good?” rafe asks, a smirk gracing his cheeks.

“y-yeah.” you nod quickly, spreading your legs slightly, ignoring the urge to clench them together and trap rafes hand there.

“can i get these leggings out of the way then?”

“take your shirt off first.” you giggle, looking between your exposed body and rafe still completely clothed.

“yes ma’am.” rafe jokes, making you roll your eyes.

you've seen rafe shirtless before, but this is the first time you've been able to unashamedly check him out as your eyes take in every inch of him, every line of muscle and smattering of hair.

rafe is well aware of your eyes on him, subtly flexing his muscles to make them appear bigger as he peels your leggings off your body. you let out a sigh of relief.

rafe presses himself onto the mattress on your side, partly leaned over you so he can continue to play with your chest.

you allow your eyes to close as his hand rubs against your underwear, swirling over the growing wet patch before moving up to your clit, tapping against it before rubbing.

you let out a soft moan, unable to hold back as a high builds inside of you. rafe suddenly presses forward, his hips thrusting against thigh, needing some sort of relief for his hard cock.

“you… you can fuck me now.” you tell rafe, not wanting to have him suffer in waiting.

“two orgasms first.” rafe says, focusing back on rubbing your clit, determined to get you there once before diving between your legs, even though he could drool right now just from the thought.

“i- ohhh.” whatever you were going to say in protest is forgotten as rafe adds a second finger, working them in sync around and over your clit.

“come on baby.” rafe says, breath hot against your neck as he moves up, pressing kisses and nipping gently at your sensitive skin. “i need you to cum for me.”

rafes mouth connects with yours, swallowing your moans as your arms wrap around his shoulders. it only takes a few more moments of his intense rubbing for you to feel something break. your high rushes over you as you cum loudly, squealing and hiding your face in rafes neck as your entire body shakes, surprised by how intense the feeling is.

“i got you.” rafe says softly, his fingers slowing to take you through your high, not stopping until your body slumps against the mattress.

“god, that was beautiful baby.” rafe kisses your forehead, not caring that there's the slightest sheen of sweat covering it. “if you need to stop now…”

“no!” you say quickly, eyes shooting open. “absolutely not, i need you.”

“gonna take your panties off then, yeah?” rafe makes sure you nod before moving lower, sighing with happiness as he pulls the last barrier away. 

you don't even hesitate for a second before spreading your legs wide, letting rafe see every single part of you.

rafe looks up at you, a sense of seriousness in his eyes and tone. “you're beautiful. you're absolutely beautiful.”

rafe leans forward, and all it takes is a quick lick through your wetness to have you screaming out in pleasure.

“delicious.” rafe mumbles, pushing his hips into the bed for some relief as his tongue explores your pussy, purposely avoiding your clit knowing you're still coming down from your high.

“i- oh my god.” you squeeze your eyes shut as your hands grip onto the sheets. “i never thought it could feel so good.”

“only because you're with me baby.” rafe presses kisses to your open thighs. “no other man could make you feel this good.”

you chuckle and shake your head. “relax rafe, im not thinking about anyone else, trust me.”

“just making sure.” rafe grins up at you.

his attention quickly returns to your cunt as his tongue makes broad stripes through your folds, flicking over your clit every time he reaches it.

you're almost sure that you can't cum again so soon, that your body surely isn't able to, but your high builds steadily with every swipe of rafes tongue.

despite pressing his hips forward into the bed, rafe barely pays attention to himself, too wrapped up in swirling his tongue to taste every inch of you, wondering how he managed to hold off so long when he's spent so many nights in the same bed as you.

rafe refocuses on your clit, lips suctioning around it as his eyes flicker up to you, watching the surprise and pleasure across your face.

rafe knows he can't let you cum too soon as he raises his hand to prod a finger against your entrance. rafe can tell by how wet you are that opening you up should be easy and painless, and he couldn't probably enter you right now with no issue, but he won't risk it.

rafe keeps his eyes on your face as one long finger pushes inside of you, feeling your gummy walls clench around him at the sudden intrusion, but your face doesn't change from the consistent moans.

rafe begins to pump the finger as his tongue surges forward to press against your clit, tapping the bundle of nerves in the same rhythm as his finger entering you.

“oh- oh my god im close!” you squeal, only spurred closer when rafe fits a second finger inside, your slick making it easy and seamless.

rafe picks up the speed, occasionally scissoring his fingers and feeling your walls give way to his movements.

you thighs attempt to close, the pressure suddenly sending you over the edge, but rafe lays a hand against your leg and keeps them open as your high hits, body shaking as you scream out, clenching repeatedly around rafes fingers.

“mmm.” rafe hums against your clit, pulling away only to press a kiss to your core. “can't wait to feel you squeezing ‘round my cock like that.”

rafe kneels between your legs, watching your chest rise and fall, your nipples perky and pink from his attention. your body is completely slack from the intensity of the two orgasms as rafe undoes the buttons on his pants.

“do you want me to… do anything?” you ask.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “this is all about you baby. ill teach you exactly how i like to be touched some other time.”

“okay.” you nod, glad that you can just relax and let rafe do all the work, especially knowing he's far more experienced than you are.

“you can touch me if you want though.” rafe offers, tugging his pants down so just his underwear is covering his cock, tight against his thighs and clearly bulging against the material.

“i- yeah.” you sit up, forcing your tired body through with the excitement and adrenaline of finally doing this with rafe.

your hand pets over his thigh, moving closer and closer until his cock twitches like it's calling out for you to touch him.

you place your hand firmly over his length, squeezing gently as rafes jaw drops open. such a simple motion but he's surprised how much better it feels having it be you touching him rather than a random girl he has no feelings for.

“god, baby.” rafe groans as you open your palm and stroke it over his length from base to tip. “you're already making me feel so good.”

“want me to keep going?”

rafe is so lost in the feeling he doesn't even realize you've asked him a question until a minute later when his hand rests over yours, stopping you. “no, in fact, i need you to stop before this ends way too soon.”

you can't help but giggle, wrapping your hand around rafes neck and giving him a kiss. “how do you want me?”

“you can lay on your back, or hands and knees, however you want. you can be on top too.” rafe offers as he reaches to his nightstand, digging out a condom.

“um… ill just stay like this.” you say, laying back, knowing you can change your mind later if you need to.

“perfect.” rafe smiles at you, leaning over to press a kiss to your tummy. “you're so perfect.”

you're about to respond when rafe pulls his underwear down and all other thoughts leave your mind.

“like what you see?” rafe smirks, his cock hard and seeming even bigger now that its not hidden by any fabric.

you squeeze your thighs together, and it's the only cue rafe needs to see to understand how much you want this. he wastes no time rolling the condom over his cock, sheathing himself in the latex. it's a non negotiable for your first time, not wanting to overwhelm you with worry about getting pregnant or not liking the feeling of his cum inside you.

rafe is excited for the day when he doesn't need a barrier, but he can wait for you.

“just relax.” rafe says, laying himself down over you. “it'll be better if you don't tighten your muscles. if it does hurt at all-”

you interrupt rafe with a kiss. “ill tell you. i know.”

rafe smiles at you, his cheeks stretching even further when his cock pushes forward and rubs through your folds, covering the condom in your slick.

rafe reaches down to line his cock up with your entrance, pushing in very slowly just in case you change your mind at any minute. he pauses when he feels your hips rise up and body tighten, only for you to take a deep breath and relax a moment later.

“feel so good, baby.” rafe says earnestly, pausing fully pushed inside of you, letting himself enjoy your warmth.

“i- just give me one second.” rafe pushing against your walls feels good, but you need a moment to adjust, hips moving up and down then side to side. “okay.” you nod. “you can move now.”

rafe presses a kiss to your lips as he begins to move, the make out turning into open mouthed moans as his hips swing back and forth, fucking into you with a steady rhythm.

“ohhhh!” you moan out as rafe speeds up slightly, your hands coming to hold onto his biceps, bulging as he keeps himself held up above you.

“that's it, baby.” rafe praises you as your thighs spread further apart, opening your pussy further for him. 

“i really like it.” you whine, back arching as rafe digs his cock in deeper, pausing every couple thrusts to circle his hips and grind into you.

“i like it too.” rafe hums. “best ive ever had.”

you roll your eyes, certain any of his other hookups are more experienced and a better time than you, but rafe won't let your doubts slide.

“im serious, baby.” rafe says, not pausing his thrusts as he speaks. “it's because i am completely in love with you.”

“come here.” you pull rafe into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close.

“you're so good i don't know how long ill last.” rafe admits.

“i-i already think i could too.” you giggle. “if you just touch me down there.”

“im gonna hold off as long as possible though.” rafe vows. “wanna give you the best time.”

“you already have.” you kiss rafe deeply, obsessed with the taste of his lips, the way they slide against yours and his tongue pokes out to enter your mouth, exploring every inch he can.

rafe picks up his pace and depth of his thrusts, knowing now that you've had plenty of time to get used to the feeling. despite wanting to give you the best experience and focus just on the pleasure of being together, he has to put his mind elsewhere to not cum too soon.

“so wet.” rafe groans, head tipping back as the sounds of your wetness gushing with his every thrust, the sound invading his ears along with the slapping of skin.

“ive never felt like this before.” you admit shyly.

“you're gonna feel this a lot more often.” rafe laughs softly, swallowing thickly when he realizes just seeing your smile and the light in your eyes pushes him closer to the edge.

“gonna touch you now, baby.” rafe shifts his weight slightly to one side, hand ghosting down your stomach before he places the pad of his thumb directly over your clit.

“oh, oh!” you squeal. “rafe!”

rafe keeps pumping into you as you moan, your high suddenly bursting forward, unable to hold back even a second longer as your legs wrap around rafes hips and pull him in.

rafe let's out a sigh of relief as he cums as deep inside of you as he can, bodies pressed flush together.

--

“do you have sunscreen?” you ask. “i know it's autumn and we aren't going to be swimming but it's still pretty bright out.”

“yeah, already got some in the bag.” rafe had woken up early and stayed cuddling you in bed for as long as he could before knowing he needed to get the day started.

while he let your body recover from last night activities, he prepared every single boat anchored on the dock so you could choose any one you wanted, as well as prepared a bag and cooler for the day.

by the time rafe crawled back into bed, you were blinking your eyes open.

“perfect.” you smile and give rafe a quick peck, taking the bag from his hands so he can carry the cooler. you shot down his protest with a quick look.

“fine.” rafe grumbles. “you can carry this one thing.”

“considering i don't even have to lift a finger when you're around, i really don't mind.” you chuckle, following rafe out the back door and across the patio to the long expansive dock stretching deep into the water.

“so…” rafe begins. “there's a smaller speedboat, a pontoon and then obviously the yacht.”

“is it okay if we take the pontoon?” you ask.

“anything you want.” rafe nods. “we got the pontoon for wheezie and her friends, but it's a nice smooth ride and a lot of space. when it gets warmer out im absolutely taking you for a swim.”

“that actually sounds really fun.” you admit. you swam in the ocean a lot in norfolk, always going to virginia beach to be alone with the sand and the calming waves whenever your anxiety levels got too high.

“mhm.” rafe nods. “fun for me too, get you out in a tiny little bikini, away from all other people…”

“oh my god.” you roll your eyes as you laugh. “we had sex once and you're already fantasizing!”

“i was fantasizing about you since the moment i saw you in my seat.” rafe takes the cooler and sets it on the pontoon before taking the bag from you. “i was just gentlemanly enough to keep it to myself.”

“sure.” you roll your eyes again, but it's all in jest, rafe knows you find him hilarious and love his silly jokes. rafe, to prove his gentleman status, reaches a hand down to help you up onto the boat.

“so…” rafe gives you a quick tour, showing you where towels are stored, even though you're not planning on swimming, and lifejackets, just in case.

“but seriously, it's basically impossible to sink a pontoon. you're very safe.” rafe stresses.

“it's okay.” you say. “i trust you, really.”

“my girl.” rafe pulls you onto his lap as he sits down in the captains seat.

rafe navigates easily through the waters, pointing out different landmarks along the coast. “thank you for showing me your home.” you tell rafe, pressing your back into his chest as you round a cove and the wind picks up slightly. “ill show you norfolk one day but it's not as pretty as here.”

“i can't wait to raise kids here.” rafe says. “teach them how to fish and golf and drive the boats.”

“you think about kids?” you turn on rafes thigh to look at him rather than the scenery.

“our kids.” rafe winks at you, causing you to giggle and press your face into his neck, but he really means it, especially bringing you back to his home. he could imagine toddlers footsteps running around tanneyhill.

“you're sweet.” you kiss his cheek.

“don't let that get around.” rafe squeezes your hip as he steers with one hand. “it'll ruin my reputation around here.”

“oh yeah?” you raise your eyebrows. “tell me more about this reputation…”

you happily listen to rafe talk until your stomach starts to growl. he picks up on it quickly, moving the boat further out so you can float down the coast while you eat.

you continue to talk all through lunch, snacking on what rafe had packed.

“there's a million things i want to show you around the island, which means you'll have to start spending all your breaks here if you're not going home.”

“let's see how your family likes me first…” you mutter, giving rafe a look.

“relax. they'll love you. my dad will just be happy i found someone serious. that was the main point of him sending me to duke, was to get my shit together. and i look at you… and i want to be perfect for you. i love you so much.”

--

“this movie is boring.” you groan. “how can you make a movie about sharks and have it be boring as hell?”

“we can change it.” rafe offers, going to grab the remote when you stop him.

“no, im too deep into it now. i just want to complain.” rafe nods at your explanation and cuddles back into the couch, pulling you in tight to him.

“well…” he whispers in your ear, breath causing you to shiver. “since you're bored, how about i entertain you?”

you're not sure what rafe means until his hand pushes between your thighs, three fingers pressing against your core and rubbing.

“ohhh.” you moan out softly, eyes fluttering closed. 

“sorry, love.” rafe says. “i couldn't wait until we got up into bed, not with my family getting home tomorrow. i need you too bad.”

“in… in my pants, please.” you take rafes hand, moving quicker for him to slip it below the hem and into your pajama pants, where rafe is pleased to find you aren't wearing any underwear.

his fingers stroke through your folds, feeling your wetness steadily growing before his finger prods against your entrance, slipping in with ease.

rafe watches as your eyes open to watch a scene playing out on the television before they close again when another boring part comes on, another monologue when you expected action.

“feel good?” rafe asks, glad that you aggressively nod. 

“don't you dare stop.” you spread your thighs a little wider, having to lift a leg over his to give him even more room to press into you, hand pressing in so his palm can rub against your clit.

“as soon as this stupid movie is done im taking you upstairs and fucking you so hard.” rafe growls the last words, putting all the effort he can into fingering you and massaging your clit that he possibly can.

his eyes light up when your back arches, mouth opening as small moans fall from your lips before you turn into a shaking mess as your high breaks, reaching down to stop rafes hand as you immediately become oversensitive.

“yum.” rafe says, pulling his hand away to lick your wetness off his fingers.

“ill just read the synopsis later, come on.” you tell rafe, standing up off the couch and pulling him up the stairs.

--

“please, call me ward.” rafes father says, graciously giving you a hug.

“well, it's nice to meet all of you.” you say with a wide smile on your face to hide your nerves, looking between rafes step mom rose and his littlest sister wheezie who looks genuinely excited to meet you. “and thank you so much for letting me stay in your beautiful home.”

“we were so glad when rafe told us he met someone.” rose lays a hand over her chest. “and my goodness, you're just even better than we imagined.

“she's a keeper for sure.” rafe places an arm around your waist, smiling down at you as you tuck your head down, cheeks tinging pink.

“so, you've got to tell us all about yourself.” ward sweeps his arm towards the living room, and soon you're all chatting on the couch that rafe fingered you on the night before. you push the memory to the back of your mind as you answer all of wards questions (and occasionally a few from wheezie).

“im a duke alumni myself.” ward says.

“oh, im well aware.” you chuckle. “your name is plastered all over the school. i think it's amazing that you invest in your alma mater.”

hours go by, rose insisting you all eat dinner together, before rafe finally has you alone in his room.

“god, they love you.” rafe says, watching you while you changing into pajamas, making him promise he wouldn't try anything with his parents under the same roof.

“i was trying to say all the right things.” you giggle. “i really like wheezie though, she's sweet.”

“im sure she won't argue if you want to take her out shopping tomorrow.” rafe offers.

“id actually love that. maybe ill invite sarah too so i can actually meet her.” sarah had ward drop her off at her boyfriend's house before they even came back home from their vacation, but you can't blame her for being a teen in love.

“ill give you my card then.” rafe says. you roll your eyes. rafe pays for everything, not that it even makes a dent in what you know he's being given as an allowance from ward and cameron enterprises.

“thanks babe.” you climb into bed, snuggling under the covers as rafe sets an alarm on his phone and makes sure both of yours are plugged in and charging.

“come here.” rafe opens up his arms once he's also under the covers, and you're glad to snuggle into his chest, heart rate instantly slowing and breathing deepening just from your cheek being pressed against his tshirt.

--

“rafe.” you hum, placing a hand on his thigh as he starts up the car.

“yeah baby?” rafe is fully prepared for you to ask to drive, or tell him you're not ready to go yet. he's willing to make whatever concessions needed to get you back to duke.

“can we make a stop in rahleigh? that's where my… friend from high school lives now, and id like to stop by quickly and just tell her im okay and that i accept her apologies.”

rafe nods, blinking away a few tears as he reaches over to give you a tight hug. “im so proud of you baby.”

you press your face into rafes neck, knowing you can do this when you have rafe by your side.

-- four years later --

“are you nervous?” rafe asks, watching you adjust the cap on your head.

“actually, no.” you admit honestly. “and if i do get nervous,” you turn away to face rafe. “ill just look at you.”

“oh god, come here.” rafe pulls you in tight, kissing the top of your head. 

“alright, come on.” you step out of the hug before it can go any further. “i dont wanna be late to my own graduation.”

“ah, you know i can delay it all with one phone call.” rafe tugs on your hand, tempting you back towards the bed.

“show off.” you roll your eyes, allowing rafe to pull you back to the mattress.

[blbyena]

boyfriend!mark x reader , friend!jaemin , coffee date

Fluff - 2,293 words

-

You're at a café with mark and jaemin, and the waiter has a crush on you...

It’s a rare free afternoon, and you, Mark, and Jaemin decide to grab coffee at a cozy little café. The place is warm and inviting, the scent of roasted beans and sweet pastries filling the air as you settle into your seats. Mark sits beside you, scrolling through the menu, while Jaemin is across from you, lazily stirring his iced americano.

A young waiter, probably around your age, comes over with a shy smile. “Hey, welcome! What can I get for you?”

You glance at Mark, who’s still busy looking at the menu, before turning back to the waiter. “I’ll have a caramel latte, please.”

He nods, then hesitates for a second before speaking again, his voice softer this time. “Good choice. But, um… I feel like someone as sweet as you would probably like it extra caramel-y, right?”

You blink, caught off guard by his tone, but before you can respond, Mark’s head snaps up so fast you think he might get whiplash.

“What?” Mark blurts out, staring at the waiter like he just heard the most unbelievable thing in the world.

Jaemin, snorts and looks between the two of them, already amused.

The waiter, clearly flustered but still trying, nervously chuckles. “Uh, just saying… I can make it extra sweet for you.”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh at Mark’s face. His eyebrows are raised so high they might disappear into his hairline, and his jaw is slightly open, like he’s struggling to process what’s happening.

You can feel the energy shift immediately. Mark leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, and scoffs under his breath. “Wow.”

You thank the waiter politely, trying not to make it more awkward, but as he walks away, Mark turns to you, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Are you—did he just—” He gestures toward the waiter, eyes wide. “Did he really just flirt with you right in front of me?”

Jaemin, always one to stir the pot, smirks. “He definitely did. That was bold.”

Mark shakes his head, looking personally offended. “No, because what was that? ‘Someone as sweet as you’? That’s actually insane.” he says, mimicking the younger boy.

You giggle, nudging him playfully. “Aww, are you jealous?”

Mark scoffs again, but the way he grips his cup a little tighter gives him away. “I’m not jealous,” he grumbles. “I’m just… shocked. Like, the audacity to flirt with my girlfriend while I’m literally sitting right here.”

Jaemin, absolutely loving this, leans in. “To be fair, you weren’t paying attention. He saw an opportunity.”

Mark shoots him a glare. “Not helping.”

You, feeling a little playful, decide to tease him further. “Well, maybe he just thought I looked cute today.”

Mark lets out a dry laugh. “Oh, I know you look cute today. But that’s not the point.” He leans in closer, his voice dropping as he stares at you. “You didn’t even shut him down.”

You grin. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, I only let my boyfriend call me sweet’?”

Mark pauses, eyes narrowing. “Yes?!?.”

Jaemin bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but giggle too. “You’re ridiculous,” you tease, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

Mark huffs, still sulking a little, but when the waiter returns with your drinks, you feel Mark subtly scoot closer, his knee knocking against yours. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he slides an arm over the back of your chair—casual yet very obvious—makes his message crystal clear.

When the waiter places your latte down, he gives you another shy glance. “Hope you like it,” he says softly.

Before you can even respond, Mark beats you to it. “Oh, she will,” he says smoothly, his voice just a little too firm.

The waiter blinks, glances between you two, then quickly nods before scurrying away.

Jaemin, nearly choking on his drink from laughter, claps Mark on the back. “You’re so dramatic.”

Mark ignores him, turning to you with a victorious smirk. “What? I was just making sure my girlfriend enjoys her drink.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you take a sip. “Mmm, extra sweet. Just how I like it.”

Mark watches you for a second before leaning in, his voice lower now, teasing. “You do know I’m the only one allowed to make things sweet for you, right?”

Your heart flutters, but you play it cool, sipping your latte. “Mmhmm, of course.”

Mark leans even closer. “Good,” he murmurs,

eyes locked on yours. “Just making sure.”

You stand up from your seat, brushing crumbs off your lap as you head toward the counter to grab some napkins. Mark watches you go, still pouting slightly from the waiter’s earlier attempt at flirting with you. Jaemin just smirks, sipping his drink, clearly enjoying how riled up Mark is.

As you wait for the napkins, one of the café employees—a girl this time—approaches you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey, sorry if this is random, but… my coworker over there,” she subtly nods toward the waiter who had taken your order, “thinks you’re really cute. He was too shy to ask himself, so he wanted me to see if you’d be down to give him your number or socials.”

You blink, taken off guard, before letting out a small laugh. “Oh, that’s cute, but I actually have a boyfriend.” You glance back toward your table where Mark is still sulking, completely unaware of the conversation happening right now. “I’m really not interested."

The girl nods, smiling. “Ah, gotcha. No worries! I’ll let him know.”

You grab the napkins and make your way back to the table, still giggling at the absurdity of the situation. As soon as you sit down, Mark glances at you, still brooding.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, voice flat.

You slide the napkins onto the table and lean in, whispering just loud enough for him to hear. “You’re never gonna believe this, but one of the workers just came up to me and asked for my number.”

Mark’s face drops instantly.

Jaemin, who was mid-sip, actually coughs from laughing. “No way. Again?”

You nod, still grinning. “Apparently, the waiter from before was too shy to ask himself, so he got his coworker to do it for him.”

Mark just stares at you, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He leans back in his chair, running a hand down his face before crossing his arms again, looking even more sulky than before.

Jaemin cackles. “Bro, your girlfriend is a magnet today.”

Mark ignores him, his jaw clenched as he looks at you with an expression that’s half disbelief, half pure frustration. “So let me get this straight… Not only did that guy flirt with you right in front of me, but then he actually sent someone else to try and get your number?”

You bite your lip, stifling another laugh. “I mean… yeah, basically.”

Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s insane. I—I don’t even know what to say right now.”

You reach for his hand, trying to soothe him. “Baby, relax. I told them I have a boyfriend, and I’m not interested. I shut it down immediately.”

Mark doesn’t look convinced. He lets you hold his hand, but he doesn’t squeeze back, still sulking hard. “Yeah, well, it’s not you I’m mad at,” he mutters, glaring toward the counter like the poor waiter just ruined his whole day. “It’s them.”

Jaemin, still thoroughly entertained, grins. “You should go up there and ask him for his number, just to even it out.”

Mark shoots him the most unimpressed look. “Not funny.”

You giggle, leaning closer to Mark, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Come on, don’t be mad. I only want you.”

Mark exhales through his nose, still not looking at you. “Mhm.”

You pout, leaning into him more, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Baby…”

He sighs, shifting in his seat, but still refuses to look at you. “Not talking to you.”

You grin at his childish response and decide to push your luck. You nuzzle against his shoulder, kissing the corner of his jaw this time. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

Mark groans, turning his head away from you, but his ears are visibly red. “I hate you.”

Jaemin snickers. “Lies.”

You giggle, sliding your arms around Mark’s waist now, pressing yourself against him. “You don’t hate me. You love me.”

He exhales sharply but doesn’t pull away. “Whatever.”

Jaemin leans back in his chair, watching the two of you with pure amusement. “This is better than the coffee.”

Mark finally glances at you, his pout still in full force. “I swear if one more person flirts with you today, we’re leaving.”

You smirk, kissing his cheek one last time. “Okay, okay. But for the record, I love when you get all jealous and pouty like this.”

Mark groans again, but this time, when you squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

As the afternoon winds down, you and the boys finish up your drinks, chatting lazily about random things. The café is quieter now, the warm glow of the setting sun spilling through the windows.

Just as you’re about to get up, the same waiter from earlier approaches with a small, shy smile. He quickly tidies up your table before glancing at you. “You can pay with me at the counter whenever you’re ready,” he says, his tone light but clearly directed at you.

You don’t respond, just nodding slightly while keeping your focus on your phone. Meanwhile, Mark—who has been tense this entire time—grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers, and pulls you up with him. You hold onto his bicep with your free hand, leaning slightly into him as you walk toward the counter together.

The waiter is still smiling at you as you approach, but you don’t return it, pretending to be distracted. Mark, however, doesn’t pretend anything. He tightens his grip on your hand, jaw clenched as he glares at the guy.

“I’ll pay for her,” Mark says flatly before you even have the chance to reach for your wallet. His tone leaves no room for argument.

The waiter hesitates for a second, then nods, punching in the total while Mark pulls out his card. You keep your eyes on your phone, but you can feel Mark’s lingering annoyance in the way he stands so close to you, his presence practically shielding you from the guy’s view.

As the transaction processes, Mark glances down at you, his tone shifting into something softer, more familiar. “You warm enough?” he asks, adjusting his stance so you’re even closer.

You glance up at him, smiling a little. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Mark hums, looking at you for a second before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. It’s casual, instinctive—like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

That’s when the waiter finally puts it together. His eyes widen slightly, realization dawning on his face as he looks between you and Mark. “Oh…” His voice is quiet, awkward. “I—I didn’t realize you two were… together.”

Mark doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Yeah,” he says simply, sliding his card back into his wallet. “We are.”

The waiter swallows, clearly embarrassed now. “Uh—sorry about earlier, man. I didn’t mean to—”

Mark just exhales through his nose, finally looking at him with an unimpressed expression. “It’s fine,” he mutters, though his face says otherwise.

You, still holding onto Mark’s bicep, decide to break the tension before things get more awkward. “Have a nice day,” you say politely, giving a small nod before turning back to Mark. “Let’s go?”

Mark doesn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm protectively around your waist as he guides you toward the exit. Jaemin—who has been silently enjoying the whole thing—follows behind, barely holding back his laughter.

Once you’re outside, Mark lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “I swear this was supposed to be a chill coffee date.”

Jaemin finally cracks, laughing. “Chill? Dude, I haven’t seen you this worked up in months.”

You giggle, squeezing Mark’s hand. “At least he apologized?”

Mark huffs, clearly still a little annoyed. “Yeah, after watching me kiss you.” He pauses, then mutters, “Should’ve done it sooner.”

Jaemin whistles. “Next time, just kiss her as soon as we sit down. Establish dominance.”

Mark gives him a deadpan look, but you can’t help but laugh. “Noted,” you tease, leaning into Mark’s side.

Mark sighs, finally shaking off his sulky mood as he tugs you closer. “Whatever. As long as you know you’re mine.”

You smile up at him, squeezing his hand. “Always.”

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[h0neylevi]

I feel like Levi would like indirect acts of affection the most.

Instead of cuddling together in bed at the end of the day, he lays close to you, curled on his side so that you’re able to snuggle up against his back and stay warm.

If you’re sitting together, he’ll do the classic arm on the back of your chair. Not exactly around your shoulders. He isn’t pulling you into his side, but the space is still there for you. His body language is still open to your presence.

When you're walking together in a crowd, his hand finds the small of your back. It isn't in a 'you're dragging behind' kind of way either, but more of a 'we're a unit and I don't want to lose you in this crowd' type of action.

And that's not even to mention the things he says.

'Good job' could be used either genuinely when you do something remarkable, or sarcastically when you do something that he thinks is funny. He doesn't crack a smile, but it's all in the tone.

"Here, eat/drink this..." for when he's concerned you've been overworking yourself and you need a break.

Levi's an attentive man too, so things that you need just sort of have a way of showing up without you having to ask. A blanket will be draped over the sofa or your favorite chair if you shiver even once. If you're the forgetful type, he's stocking extras of your favorite little things like pens/chapsticks/gum/hair ties/etc.

He's never really been the type to explicitly say he loves you, but you know he feels it just from his actions alone.

[aurorawritestoescape]

HARDER THAN YOU THINK

Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,7k

Written together with @milla-frenchy

Summary: It’s your first day at work and you feel nervous. But what can go wrong if your boss is your dad’s best friend, a person you’ve known and trusted for years?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CON, Dbf!Joel, boss!Joel, dark!Joel, power imbalance, blackmail, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), oral (f), pussy slapping, use of a sex toy, degradation, unprotected piv, gangbang, creampies. Reader wears a skirt.

A/n: @milla-frenchy and I wrote this story for @romanarose ‘s Dead Dove December. Thank you for this event, celebrating dark fic, Roman❤️ Milla, baby, it’s always a pleasure to write with you! ILYSM🫂💖

Heed the warnings! If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. We are not responsible for the content you consume. This is not for everyone and that's okay. We don't condone the actions of the characters.

MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST

Day one at your first job started horribly. You overslept, got in a traffic jam and arrived at the office panting and apologizing. Fortunately, your boss, Mr Miller, didn’t tell you off for your tardiness. Instead he greeted you with a wide, most charming smile. You’ve known him for a few years, him being your dad’s good friend and his employer as well as yours now.

Mr Miller was a successful businessman and your parents owed everything to his generosity and kindness. He helped your father out when your family was about to lose the house and your dad always talked highly of his ‘best bud’. You’ve been calling him Joel all these years, but wishing to show respect at the workplace, you decided to call him Mr Miller.

Now you’re attending a company meeting in a spacious conference room, taking bullet points of the discussion on your tablet. Mr Miller is sitting at the head of the desk, leaning comfortably in his chair, his thick thighs spread, piercing eyes narrowed. His perfectly tailored blue suit which probably costs more than your future year salary accentuates his broad powerful frame. Throwing glances at him from time to time, you can’t help but admire the way the fabric stretches over his arms and shoulders. You’ve never thought about Joel like that, he was much older than you, but it was hard to deny how handsome he was.

Joel is listening to an employee’s report, pouting his lips from time to time. Knowing him quite well, you read his face easily, so it’s evident to you that he’s not pleased with what she’s telling him. Joel’s always been nice and kind to you and your parents, but right now you feel like a volcano is about to erupt.

“Are you happy with all this, sweet cheeks?” He asks but doesn’t let the woman reply. "I’m definitely not. I hope I won't hear these numbers ever again. Or you're gonna lose your job in a heartbeat. I doubt your family will be happy with you getting fired. You just had a baby, right?”

The woman swallows loudly and nods.

“Get your shit together!” Joel barks and the employee looks terrified. You feel bad for her. You’ve never seen Joel be so mean before but that's probably part of the character trait that goes with his job.

When the meeting is over, some people leave but three men stay behind with Joel, still chatting to each other. You get up, ready to sneak out, but your boss stops you at the door, calling your name.

“Sorry, I thought the meeting’s over”, you explain, coming up to him with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, the main part’s done but we have something extra on our agenda today.”

Joel gets up and walks over to one of the cabinets. He takes something out of a drawer and puts it in the pocket of his suit pants. You raise your brows with a silent question and he turns his face to the managers,

“Gentlemen! Today is this young lady’s first day at our company and I’d like you to give her a warm welcome.”

You feel overwhelmed when all the attention is focused on you but, fearing to seem rude or disrespectful, you turn to the men and smile nervously, fumbling with your fingers. You wonder what Joel put in his pocket. You didn't expect to receive a gift on your first day, and you don’t know how to thank him properly.

The men hum approvingly but soon you feel uneasy noticing their eyes slide down your body and take you in with something more than simple curiosity. One of them smirks and your face falls. Fortunately, Joel steps up to you and his wide smile relaxes you a little. Knowing him for so long, you feel that he has your back. He takes your hand and holds it in his big warm palm.

“Sweetheart, we have a tradition in our company. We call it “Initiation”.

“W—What is it?” you mumble, smiling and blinking at him with confusion, while your stomach churns. You hope he won’t ask you to give a speech of some kind. You’d die of stage fright.

Joel explains, “Some of us gather here to celebrate our new employee and I’m happy that today it is you.“

Joel inches closer and you instinctively take a step back but he pulls you to him gently yet with unyielding determination.

“Usually one of our top managers does it, but of course, with you it had to be me. Also some of these gentlemen sent me messages during the meeting… Seems that they want to take part, now that they saw you.”

His face is inches from yours and he lowers his voice to tell you, “to be specific, we all are going to celebrate you and your body. Teach you some new things while we’re at it, too.”

Your gaze darts between his darkening eyes as you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You can’t comprehend what he’s saying but your instinct is screaming for you to run.

Joel gently cups your cheek and turns to the other men in the room, “she’s adorable.” With that he places his hands on your hips, and mumbling “c’mon”, moves you to the head of the desk.

“Joel, what are you…?” Your voice is shaky, your palms placed on his broad chest push him off you but he’s too strong and soon your ass is perched up on the surface, your back turned to the other men.

“Joel, please, what are you doing?” you mumble as panic rises in your chest.

“Shh, we’re just gonna have some fun, you and me at first, then I'll let the others join us.”

He looks behind you, and you hear the other men react.

“Fuck yeah.”

“I think I will.”

“Give it to her, boss.”

You hear their words and you start to understand what’s happening. Or rather, you start realizing what your dissociated mind was trying to hide.

“Joel… You’re scaring me…” you stammer, eyes wide.

“Fear is a good thing. It means I'm in control. And I want control over you."

Now you feel Joel’s hands rubbing your thighs, covered by tights, slithering up and under the hem of your skirt, while his gaze is set on your chest.

“No, Joel, please,” you plead, searching for his eyes, hoping to keep his attention on you, break the spell that turned these people into wild animals, turned this office into a cage that you can’t escape from. Trying to make him come back to his senses and remind him that it's you, the person he's known for so long, that he is your father's friend, who you thought would protect you from all dangers, if he had to.

But his eyes remain black, cold. The more you beg, the brighter an unhealthy spark shines in them. As if he likes it, likes you begging.

“You’re my dad’s friend, don’t do this to me,” you whine, overwhelmed by his big body caging yours against the desk, terrified to your core at the realization of what he’s about to do to you.

“Yes, you’re right,” he stops, giving you a glimpse of hope, and looks into your eyes. “Your dad’s a great guy but he has a big flaw. He has this pretty little thing for a daughter.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him, your hope is dead.

Joel leans closer and you pull away but he grabs the back of your neck and holds you still, brushing your lips with his.

“If he only knew how much I want to stretch your little holes. And you know me, baby,” he pecks your lips and whispers, “I always get what I want.”

The men behind you chuckle, loving this display of power. The smell of Joel’s perfume hits your nose and your head spins for a second as part of you still struggles to understand what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes.

Your new boss, a man you’ve known for years, wants to fuck you in front of other people on your first day here. You try to make your mind work, get you out of the situation.

“I’ll tell my dad. I’ll tell everyone,” you cry out, making your voice firmer, but Joel just laughs, enveloping you in his tight embrace. To your horror you hear the sound of the chairs moving behind you and then footsteps. You’re surrounded now.

“If you start yapping, sweetie, you and your dad will lose your jobs in a second and I’ll make sure no one ever hires you both.”

His voice is calm, his breathing steady, as if he were telling you the most mundane things in the world, and you shiver.

“Besides, your dad owes me a lot of money. Your family will lose everything.” He searches for your widened eyes and whispers, “you work for me now so it means I own you.”

Suddenly his lips latch onto your neck. His hold is too tight but the kiss is slow and gentle.

“No, no,” you start sobbing and Joel pulls away and takes your face between his big hands.

“Honey, calm down, imagine there’s only you and me here. No one else, uh?” His eyes are obsidian and full of lust and you understand that you won’t get out of this. He will have you.

“Please, Joel, I don’t want to…“

“But you do, baby, you want me,” he kisses your cheek. “You want my big cock in your little pussy. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He drags his stubble over your cheek and you whimper when his hand snakes between your thighs.

“You really think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, the clothes you wear, when I have lunch at your parents’?”

“What? No!!”

“Shh…” he cuts you, brushing your lips with his finger. “You wanna get fucked by a man older than you. A man who will give it to you good.”

Through the material of your tights and panties you feel his hand caress your folds and you close your eyes shut, trying to escape the horror of the situation.

"Girls your age want that. A mature man,” he adds.

You mewl a quiet “no” again and he uses the moment to kiss you and push his tongue past your lips. With one hand keeping you close and the other gently massaging your pussy, Joel claims your mouth, licking into it, swallowing your soft cries.

As soon as he parts from you, your hands push him away but his strong physique overpowers you in seconds. He grabs your wrists and makes you lie down on the desk. You’re pressed to the wooden surface by his heavy body as his breath fans your cheek when he growls, “Don’t fight it. It’ll be my way or bad way, baby. Choose wisely.”

In your peripheral vision you notice the men next to the desk, one on the left and two on the right. Like hyenas they are waiting for their turn when the main predator is done with the prey.

You begin thrashing around on the desk and Joel slightly lifts his torso but holds you down with his hand wrapped around your neck. You freeze as panic grips your heart. He’s not squeezing it but the threat is swimming in his blown out eyes.

He smirks when you stop moving. “Good girl. Made the right choice.”

Joel straightens up, his figure looming over you, and then starts pulling up your skirt. You try to stop his hands but in vain.

“Let’s see what we have here. White lace. Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Innocence looks good on you. I know you’re not a virgin though,” he laughs and continues, “I remember a boy used to come to your bedroom all the time. Your old man was scared that you’d get pregnant. Fuck, I wanted to kill that little shit for touching you.“

You take a sharp breath, terrified of how long his obsession with you has lasted.

“I know you’re single now. It’s good. Now you have me. I’ll fulfill all your needs, baby. And will fill all your holes.”

With that he rips your tights between your legs, and you squeal scared to death. You try to slide off the desk but he presses his forearm over your belly, not letting you move away.

You hear the murmur of the others, watching you sob and fight the man twice bigger than you like it’s some twisted show.

When Joel grabs your hips to keep you in place, you turn your head, pleading eyes darting between the men but their expressions scare you. There’s not a trace of sympathy on their faces, not a chance that this vile group will help you.

With tears streaming down your cheeks you look back between your spread legs and find Joel’s hungry gaze there. He’s sneering at you, noticing your fruitless attempt to seek assistance from his employees.

“What’s that, baby? Looking for anyone to call an HR? He’s over there. Say hi, Steve.”

You hear a gruff voice somewhere from behind you.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Aww, isn’t he nice?” Joel mocks and dread spreads in your chest. There’s no way out. You’re trapped. Your only hope is the man you thought to be a friend.

“Please, Joel. Stop. I won’t tell anyone. Let me go.” Your voice is barely audible, you sound pathetic, and Joel’s face softens. His brows knit together as he looks between your legs and talks while his fingers slowly pull your panties to the side.

“I think I’ve made a mistake.”

You gasp when his fingers graze your exposed folds and try to close your legs but he’s holding you securely.

“I haven’t explained your position in this company yet. It will help you to understand what’s happening and accept it.” His fingers stroke your seam and then push inside between your folds, leaving you shocked and breathless.

“From now on you’re my office whore. I tell you to suck, you suck, I tell you to bend over - you do exactly that.”

His voice is gruff and cold, eyes focused on the place where his fingers swirl around your hardening clit and you squeeze your eyes closed, fighting the fire in your core that’s burning brighter with every second of his caress.

“She loves it, your pretty pussy,” Joel smiles, looking up at you, “do you hear how wet she’s getting for me? You should relax, and let your body take what it wants. Stop fighting it, baby.”

He sinks two thick digits into your soft hole and you tighten your muscles, eyes wide, surprised by a heat spreading through your body.

You hear it too. When Joel begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, lewd squelching noises reach your ears, the sign of your body surrendering to his horrible act. A moan crawls up your throat and you muffle it with the back of your hand.

A sharp flick of Joel’s fingers lands on your clit and you cry out.

“Don’t. Don’t hide it. Wanna hear you enjoying it, little slut. I wouldn’t make my cock wait if I didn’t wanna hear some sweet moans from you.”

His hands leave your pussy and he places his palms on your inner thighs, spreading them wider.

“Now— Let’s have a taste.”

You watch him lower his head to your cunt and he licks a stripe between your wet folds from your clenching hole to your sensitive clit and sucks on it for a few seconds. Your back arches involuntarily.

“Delicious,” he mumbles, wet lips against your folds, and the vibrations send shivers down your spine.

You want to hate the sensation his mouth is giving you, but your whole body treacherously buzzes when his hot tongue laps away your slick. Joel kisses your pussy, his gentleness is a striking contrast to the situation. He’s eating you out to make you come, hungry to claim your pleasure as well, and you grit your teeth, fighting it with all your being.

He feels you holding back and growls before focusing all of his attention on your puffy clit, flicking it and rubbing it with his tongue, sucking it in between his teeth, and you can’t help but explode under his ministrations. You begin shaking against the desk, and through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears you hear cheers and clapping from the heartless audience.

“Good job, boss!”

“What a slut!”

“You’re the man!”

Their reaction makes your heart shutter into pieces.

Joel gives his employees his million dollar smile, pride lighting up his dark eyes, and absentmindedly rubs his hands over your thighs still partially covered by tights, ripped at the crotch.

He gets up from the chair and when you try to close your legs, he yanks you to the edge again, pushing his hips between your thighs.

Joel slowly unbuckles his belt with one hand and unzips his suit pants, talking to you, “I thought about asking you out on a date, honey. Making you my girlfriend.”

He chuckles and pulls his boxers down.

“Could be nice. You, waiting for me at home.”

His cock springs free and you feel even more scared if it’s even possible. His manhood is huge, long and thick, bigger than your ex boyfriend’s for sure. He holds it at the base and continues, “you’d greet me with a home-cooked meal and a wet pussy.”

You know what he’s about to do and all your being rises in protest so you slap his hand off and slide off the desk in a fast motion.

“Hold her!” Joel barks and a few pairs of hands grab you and push you down. Your back hits the desk and someone’s holding your wrists over your head, their hands keeping you still, at the same time gliding over exposed parts of your body - your neck, your chest, a slither of your naked belly.

Joel doesn’t stop them. His eyes are fixed on your bare cunt, glistening with the signs of your body’s betrayal.

A sharp slap lands on your mound and sends a bolt of pain through your body, and you squeal.

“Don’t do it again, naughty girl. Or I’ll let these heathens fuck your ass raw.”

You sob, trying to ease the steel grip on your wrists. Through tears in your eyes, you see Joel bring the head of his stiff cock to your pussy and in a second you feel him push it in, slowly, but not for the sake of your comfort. Only for his enjoyment.

His head falls back and he groans, “fuckk, she’s tight. You can’t find a pussy like that in an escort.”

Joel looks down at you with a hazy smile and you plead for him to stop but he ignores you and thrusts into your core. He takes out what’s in his pocket and brings his hand close to your stuffed cunt. You hear a “buzz”, when he turns on a bullet vibe.

“No, Joel, please…” you cry.

“I want you to come on my cock too. And with this little helper, I’m sure you will, baby.”

He begins rolling his hips, pushing his fat cock in and out of your dripping pussy. You whine, feeling your walls spread around his girthy member and your belly is heaving with a mixture of fear and arousal. Meanwhile Joel starts fucking you faster, talking to you like there’s no one else in the room.

“Your dad would mind if we started going out but who gives a shit? I could just throw some money his way. Money can buy everything.”

He winks at you and you sob, sliding up and down the desk with each mighty thrust.

“But — It’s not the main problem. I spend most of the time here. I work hard—Aahhh— and it’s nice to fuck someone between the meetings, right, guys?”

You hear sounds of agreement around you and squeeze your eyes shut, scared to see the faces of the monsters around you.

Joel’s cock is rhythmically brushing your g spot and you hate that behind the horror there’s pleasure, nauseating and terrifying, but pleasure nonetheless. Joel tilts his hips and you cry out when he grazes something ecstatic inside your core.

“You gonna come again, honey?” he coos at you and the pet name he used so many times before, visiting your father, cuts your heart with a sharp blade.

A river of fresh tears rolls down your face but your misery is not noticed by Joel who explains, after a loud grunt, “office affairs take too much time and effort. But you. You’d be perfect as my pretty cum dumpster.”

With that he grabs your sides, nails digging into your soft skin, and starts snapping his hips into you, violating your pussy with his fat cock.

“Fuck, gonna come soon. Pussy’s too good. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The men around you cheer again. Joel presses the vibrator to your clit and you whine, your walls clamp around his manhood and it sends him over the edge. With a loud grunt he begins spilling his hot cum into your pulsating pussy, pumping you more and more, pushing his cock deeper, while holding you with the iron grip of his hands.

You start sobbing again feeling the warmth spread deep in your core and it freezes your heart with another terror. You’re not on the pill.

Joel stays buried inside you for some time. You are so shocked that you don't react. You ignore his cock pulsating inside you. Ignore its last twitches. Until reality hits you and you cry harder. Your body betrayed you. Joel betrayed you.

“Joel, please… let me go.”

He finally pulls out and you feel some of his cum slide to your ass. You try to sit up but he grabs your wrists in his hands, keeping you down on the desk, leaning over you. His hazy gaze fixed on yours.

“Not so fast baby… we’re not gonna waste all this cum, are we? I want these men to remember who you belong to and fuck it back into you.”

You realize with shock that he really intends to throw you to them.

“Steve? You worked so hard this month. Enjoy your reward.”

Looking down at you, he adds, “come on, baby, be a good girl. Steve deserves it. And we already know you're a little slut. You clenched so hard on my cock, mmm?” He wipes away a tear running down your cheek with his thumb and steps away.

You try to close your legs but Joel clicks his tongue.

“No, no, no. I made myself clear, didn't I? Jim, didn’t I make myself clear?”

“Yes, boss, very clear.”

“If you're difficult, your father can say goodbye to his income. To his job. Your parents almost got divorced that time, didn't they?” His dark eyes are fixed on you. Even colder than before. There’s no hesitation or remorse in him. “So if you don't want your father to end up under a bridge, and your mother to whore around with her slutty daughter, you're gonna stop whining.”

He points his finger at you. You remember the meeting earlier. How cold he was, how sorry you felt for that woman. But now, it’s you who is facing this terrible side of him.

“And you’re gonna let them take their turn. Final warning.”

You suppress a sob, even when Steve settles between your legs and places one hand on your thigh and the other around his cock.

“Go on Steve, give her a good fuck.”

You hear the men cheer when Joel's employee pushes his tip in your already sore hole.

“Come on man, give it to her good!”

“Fuck that bitch!”

He thrusts in, grunting. Excited by the cheers of the other men. He fucks you hard as soon as he grabs your thighs and buries his length in you. You keep your eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze, and unwilling to give them any more of yourself by letting them see your frightened eyes.

“Well damn, Steve, you got great moves!”

The man puts his hands on your hips for a better leverage, jerking you forward with each thrust.

“Fuck, she's tight…”

“Yeah? Tighter than your wife?”

They all laugh, and you feel nauseous.

“Come on, Steve. Shoot your load. Don't enjoy it too much. I just lent her to you.”

Steve obeys and comes in your cunt, mixing his cum with Joel's.

Then Jim uses you.

And finally, Paul. He turns you around and bends you over to thrust into you from behind. He’s already groaning, when Joel’s phone rings.

“Oh!” he chuckles when he sees the name on the screen. He picks up and, looking at you, brings his index finger to his mouth, ordering you to be quiet.

“Hey, man! Calling to check on your daughter?” He walks around the desk to sit at your side and starts jerking his cock as he watches you getting fucked by the third man.

You can’t hear what your dad is saying, and your mind dissociates again.

“It’s going great. She’s already showing some serious skills!”

Joel smiles in response to what your father’s saying, his hand still fucking his shaft.

“No, sorry, she’s with Paul. He’s showing her some new procedures, they will be very useful to me soon.”

Paul is growling, rutting into you, and you hear Joel say, “Yeah sure, I’ll tell her you called.”

Paul spreads your ass cheeks and spits on your ring.

“No!” Joel gruffs in a low, menacing voice, after hanging up. “No one fucks her ass.”

“Sorry, boss, she takes it so good, I got carried away.”

“Don’t forget your place. Fill her up, and then get out, all of you. She’s mine, got it? We all… welcomed her, but now she belongs only to me.”

After using you like a fuck doll, the three men leave the office chatting happily.

Joel gets up, his hand working his fat cock.

“Gotta fill you again, baby. I can’t stay like this, with a hard-on, it’s painful, you know?”

You can’t believe he’s telling you this.

“Pussy’s already ruined, anyway,” he says as he thrusts in and fucks you hard and fast in all men’s cum, until he sends his load into your owerflowing core for a second time.

You’re lying on the desk, not even realizing they all left, that Joel has pulled out, until you feel a jacket covering you. Joel pulls down your skirt back over your thighs and grabs your arm to help you up. He fixes your shirt and looks at your face, your makeup smudged, mascara running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna need some rest, baby. Come back next week. I’ll be the only one playing with you, from now on. Don’t forget - a pretty girl like you needs a man like me.”

You shiver. His voice pulls you out from the depths of your mind, that is lying to you that none of this has happened.

“Are you on birth control?”

You shake your head, eyes empty.

“I’m gonna give you an after pill, I don’t want you knocked up by one of the guys. You’re too precious for me. Now get your stuff and go home. And don’t think of telling anyone. No one will believe you anyway.”

As you grab the handle, he adds “Oh, before you leave. Add to my calendar, tomorrow, ‘a barbecue at your parents’, at noon. Your dad’s just invited me. It’s gonna be great, baby. Can’t wait to pay you a visit in your bedroom.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Other fics by @milla-frenchy and me

Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark fic

The Burglary -Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

Bad Girl - Joel x f reader x Tommy - dubcon

The hounds of hell - Series - Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy

MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST

Tagging some lovely people who showed interest in the wips: @koshkaj-blog @604to647 @megangovier @tateypots @sunshineispunk @thundermartini @pedge-page @mountainsandmayhem @iamasaddie @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @evolnoomym @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40