#They turned out so silly i love Joe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icallhimjoey · 2 months

Note

hi hello yes

sorry, SORRY, sorry! this took a second longer than originally anticipated, but, here it is, live from italy! enjoy! (tw: we get spicy, and we also cut our finger on a kitchen knife, but it's only minor, and it ultimately gets kissed better, so we're fine) Wordcount: 2.8K

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All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You laid on your side, face pressed firmly into your pillow, and looked at Joe who was doing something on his phone. Answering someone who should’ve gotten a reply hours ago, most likely.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, sheets loosely covering him up to about his waist, and his hair looked insane.

It always did, after.

You loved it like that. Frizzy, wild, completly unruly, every piece curling a different way.

Gorgeous.

Little shit.

Joe must’ve felt how you were looking at him, because you caught him sneaking a little look from the corner of his eye before he pretended he didn’t just make direct eye-contact with you and shifted focus right back to the small screen in his hands.

“I know what you’re doing…”

You saw how a slow smile grew on his face. One that he immediately tried to hide, which was of no use.

“Yea?”

Joe couldn’t lose his grin if he wanted to. Giving you another glance made him lock his phone before putting it down on his beside table.

“Wow. Fourth time.” Joe commented, and he phrased it like he was impressed, but you knew it wasn’t with you.

Joe was impressed with himself.

“You’re sick, you know that? Like an actual sociopath.”

It felt a bit silly how you hadn’t fully realised what was going on until just now. After the fourth time it happened.

Four times.

Joe laughed as he got comfortable in bed, tucking himself in for the good night’s rest his smug little face suggested he thought he really deserved.

“I’m just following instructions.” Joe leant over a little and planted a chaste kiss to your forehead before he turned over. “Night night.”

And you know what… you kind of agreed.

You were sort of impressed with him too, but you would never tell him to his face. Obviously. Although, in a weird twist of the truth, it was actually proving yourself right more than Joe probably thought he was doing.

You’d not been fucking around when you said that sex wasn’t just about the orgasm. And the first time, with hindsight, you kind of couldn’t believe that you hadn’t immediately known.

It was a couple days after you’d had that whole discussion with Izzy present, and Joe had challengingly said he was going to prove you wrong. He’d not said a word about it since, and so you’d forgotten about it.

You’d been play bickering all day - mild bullying that touched lines, but skillfully never crossed them.

You’d caught Joe looking into a mirror for a while, and had just watched him for a little bit before you went, “Just admiring, are we?”

He’d nearly jumped out of his skin. Hadn’t seen you were there.

“You fucking...” Joe said through his teeth before loudly exhaling.

You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you as you said, “Sorry, sorry! I’m clearly interrupting something. I’ll give you and your reflection some privacy.”

“Come here!”

He’d taken three quick steps towards you, but you were faster and scurried away before his extended arms could grab you.

To retaliate, Joe had very innocently asked if you could go grab his charger from his bedroom whilst he was busy cooking dinner, not mentioning that he’d seen a fat spider near it just mere minutes ago.

And who were you to deny him a little help when he was literally making you soup from scratch?

The way you’d shrieked from across his flat had made him smile into a taste-testing spoonfull of cooked veg.

It had gone back and forth like that for a bit, sly comments and inside jokes thrown across the table, silly faces and swearwords that ultimately only fed the joy that sparked.

That was, until you were cleaning up after dinner, filling up and already overfilled dishwasher, when Joe decided it’d be hilarious to jumpscare you.

He snuck up, moved real slow, got real close, and then suddenly grabbed you at the waist whilst you were bent over and gave a loud, “BAH!”

The sound you made as you jumped was immediately followed by a loud wince.

“Oh no,” Joe’s vice grip around your waist lost strength immediately as you curled in on yourself, one hand clasping the other tightly. “Did you cut yourself?”

You kept quiet and focussed on the sharp pain that quickly dulled and replaced itself with a light sting.

You hadn’t cut yourself.

Joe had cut you.

Indirectly.

On his huge chef’s knife that you carefully wanted to give a good spot in between all the dirty pots and pans.

“Let me see. Did you cut yourself?” Joe turned you around by the shoulders, but you fought against it and turned to the sink instead.

Water went from slightly red to a little more orange until it ran clear - the cut was only little, but from the way you’d fallen silent, Joe struggled with immediate onset guilt whilst deeply wishing to keep the mood light and playful like it had been all day.

He wished you’d turn and call him a dickhead.

He wished you’d turn and punch him in the bicep.

“Is it bad? Come on, let me see.” Joe tried again, softer and sweeter now, trying to look over your shoulder.

You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you just stared at each other. Joe sort of awkward and entirely unsure of what to do. You sort of blankly, figuring out your next steps.

Which was, be careful what you wish for Joe, an unexpected punch to the bicep.

“What the fuck, Joe – did I cut myself?”

The happy relief Joe felt at your small smile underneath the scolding saved the moment.

“You did that! Did this! Look at it!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry! But, who the fuck holds a knife by the blade?”

“I was trying to make it fit in there!”

“And you had to hold it by the blade for that?” Joe’s smile grew, and you used your shoulder to shove him in response, eyes crinkling from your smile, but gaze back on your finger.

“Can you grab me the scissors?” you asked, reaching for a drawer filled with a lot of clutter, among which you knew there were some plasters.

“Yea, of course,” Joe got you his pair of kitchen scissors, but before handing them over, he forced eye-contact and turned serious for moment as he said, “That was my fault. Sorry. Does it hurt?”

And it only did a little.

You were fine.

Joe helped wrap your finger up with a plaster and the rest of your evening had passed fairly uneventful.

Joe’s little accident had ended the streak of teasing you had going, and instead, he’d turned a little soft. By ways of apologising, you were sure.

And then that mood carried over into his bed, where you sat on the edge of the foot of Joe’s bed after you got into your pyjamas, whilst Joe climbed into his side of the bed. You inspected the plaster around your finger, squeezed and pressed over the cut to feel the slight sting there still. Joe’s foot that nudged your bum interrupted you.

You looked over your shoulder and saw how Joe leant an elbow into your pillow, head leant back against the headboard with a slow smile and eyes that twinkled with just enough cheek to let you know he wasn’t all that tired yet.

“Stings.” You said as let yourself fall back just enough to get your legs up on the bed before crawling across.

“Maybe don’t touch it.” Joe said, using a hand to push down covers for you.

“Maybe don’t scare someone when they’re doing you a favour.”

You were about to get under the covers, but then, Joe changed his mind.

“Okay, fine. Come here.” Joe sat up more, spread his legs, and used both his hands to pull you into the spot in between.

“Careful! I am wounded!”

“Yea, yea, yea…” two strong hands started kneading your shoulders even before you’d fully settled with your back against his front. You immediately relaxed and let yourself sag into him, head bumping against his collarbone as you did.

“I did say I was sorry, didn’t I?” Joe said softly, close to your ear.

“Hmm.. if I say you did, will you keep going?”

Joe huffed a small laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder before whispering, “Sorry again.” into your skin.

And this was the type of shit that you lived for.

Tender touches that were just firm enough to make you feel something, alternated with feather light touches from finger tips that trailed down your arms slowly before they found their way back to your shoulders again.

Across your back.

To your neck.

Up into your hair, a little.

Gave you goosbumps.

Shivers.

Joe’s fingertips dug into flesh, and his mouth would leave gentle kisses right in the spot where your shoulder met the side of your neck.

If there was any stress secretly housing somewhere in your body that you didn’t know about, Joe was finding it. Getting rid of it. Letting it leak right out of you.

You allowed your mind to go absolutely blank.

No thoughts.

Just Joe’s touches.

Pure bliss.

Joe’s fingers roamed all over, then slid into your hair to massage at your scalp and you let your eyes flutter closed as your breath hitched.

“Does that feel good?” Joe softly murmured, full attention on the soft noises you were making under his hands.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, but only slightly. Couldn’t muster up more movement.

“Here, wait,” Joe suddenly shifted and pulled you from your daze a little as he sat up more. But then you felt how his hands were trying to find the hem of your top, and you leant forward to help him undress you.

“Sit back,” Joe said after tossing it, and this time, his finger tips rounded out to your front where he let both his hands stroke the soft skin of your chest.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, pulling your shoulders back slightly to push your chest forward, presenting more skin for Joe to touch.

“Yea, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Joe softly commented after you let a shuddery breath escape you, and you could hear Joe’s smile in his voice.

You weren’t ignorant, but you were definitely actively ignoring Joe’s hard length that pressed into your back.

You had felt Joe get hard just after he’d started this.

“Y-yea,” you answered Joe, voice breathy enough to feel Joe twitch. “Feels really good. Never stop, please.”

“Hmm,” Joe hummed, fingers drawing shapes over your collarbones, up the sides of your neck, then down the front over the soft skin of your chest. Joe felt how your skin started feeling hotter to the touch. Heard how your breathing hitched at every inhale.

“Want to know what else feels good?”

Before you could even properly answer his question, he was already moving. Moving from behind you, hands that held you by the shoulders and moved you aside to he could slip out of bed.

“Wha– I said, never stop.”

But then Joe got his hands on your knees and placed himself in between on his stomach as he spread your legs, and he raised a stupid eyebrow before mouthing at your inner thigh.

And, yea. All right.

This view wasn’t all that bad.

Joe looked up at you as he let his mouth climb up your leg, and you could feel your chest bloom.

Joe was so pretty.

You loved his nose. Loved his eyelashes. Loved his stupid freckles and his stupid lines across his forehead.

“Come up here,” you surprised yourself.

“What?” Joe already had a finger hooked in your underwear, but paused and raised his head a little.

“I want you up here.”

Your lips were jealous of your legs; wanted Joe’s mouth for themselves. Wanted Joe’s weight on top of you. Wanted Joe inside.

“But…” you saw how Joe’s eyes flicked down before they looked up and made eye-contact with you again. “What about what I want?”

Your underwear got slid to the side, and Joe let his brow frown a little as you made a little noise of impatience.

“Do you need reminding of how we got here?”

And, Jesus, okay. Fine.

You knew Joe enjoyed getting his mouth on you, but it was somehow also always a surprise that sometimes he seemed to like it more than anything else.

Your underwear got removed, and Joe coaxed you to lay back.

“Get comfy. I’m going to be here a while.”

Had anybody else said that, it would’ve passed for a corny joke. But Joe said it, and he was serious.

Joe got his mouth on you and from every single move he made, he let you know he wasn’t in a hurry. He let his tongue swirl slowly, would suckle and lick and nose at your velvety-soft skin until you were floating.

Joe knew how to make you feel good.

He’d learnt very quickly how to make you feel good.

Took him one week, actually, to be precise.

And who were you to complain about something so lovely? About having a boyfriend that you had low-key bullied all day who desperately wanted to eat you out still? You could be kind. Be polite and let him have what he wanted.

But Joe was working himself up.

Was aching in his boxers.

Kept trying to find pressure by pushing his hips into his mattress. Knew his precum was likely leaving a wet patch on his sheets.

But Joe liked what he was doing too much to do anything about what was stirring in his underwear.

And he kept you on the edge.

Just far enough away from an orgasm, but close enough to feel that it was there.

Lingering.

Somewhere off in the distance.

Felt good.

You could live here forever.

And you felt like you did, a little. Because Joe was leisurely taking his time, absolutely in no rush of moving on from what he was doing. Joe went on until his own sounds became more pornographic than whatever you were letting slip past your lips. You then suddenly felt him wiggle, and looked down to see him struggle out of his own underwear urgently without letting his tongue lose contact with you.

“Joe,” you moaned, and you meant, hurry up.

With a final strong flick of his tongue, Joe sat up onto his knees and towered over you a second as he pulled himself free from his boxers.

“Oh, my God.”

Joe was leaking precum, more than what you’d expected. You wanted to tell him how you liked that. How that was stupidly hot of him.

How dare he get so turned on by eating you out?

But you didn’t get the chance to say anything, because quickly Joe let his mouth find yours, and you finally got what you’d asked for.

Joe’s kisses were feverish, almost desperate. He let himself slip inside of you, both ways, his tongue doing the most to find yours and his hipbones pushing forward until they pressed you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna come,” you’d never heard his voice sound so constricted as his hips bucked, refusing to let up.

It had literally been just a few seconds.

Like he couldn’t fucking help himself.

Like he got so worked up eating you out that there was no way back now.

And you fucking loved it.

A man who couldn’t control himself, turning himself on past the point of no return by trying to make you feel good?

What a fucking dream.

And he wasn’t joking, either.

Joe pressed his forehead against your cheek, his heavy breath warm on your neck, and then his panting turned into groans.

With shuddering movements and loud grunts, Joe orgasmed, pressing you into the mattress with so much strength, you thought he’d never quite been deeper inside of you.

After a few seconds, he stilled, and went lax. Let every single muscle relax as he caught his breath, and Jesus fucking Christ, you loved it so much. Heavy weight on top, blissed out boy. Bare back right there for you to drag finger nails across. Short curls, wet behind his ears, right there for you to play with.

After a while, you felt how soft wet kisses got pressed into your neck, and you smiled at how adored you felt.

Going to sleep after that, being held in his sheets, arms and legs tangled, faces close, feeling loved and lovely and so, so sleepy, you almost didn’t register Joe finding your finger, the one with the plaster, and bringing it over to his mouth to give it the smallest little peck.

This was the type of shit being together with Joe was all about.

Everything felt safe, and sweet, and sort of glorious as you slowly drifted off.

That was the first time.

The first time of the four of you not realising.

You hadn’t even cared, or had even noticed for that matter, that you hadn’t orgasmed.

Didn’t cross you mind once.

The sex had been good. You had really enjoyed yourself.

So, see?

Joe was wrong.

And he’d just given you the best example that proved you right.

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The Taglisted

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@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

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@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

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add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x Y/N #joseph quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #bet!joe #double or nothing #all the aces

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 month

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝? || 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary_ living the most perfect relationship turned out to be a sharp pain, your boyfriend Reed Richards was married and you didn’t knew, but thankfully, after the storm comes a rainbow.

Warnings_ age gap (not specified, but reader is in uni), ANGST, ANGST, implied smut, retro references, I hate home-wreckers but this is for the plot, DO NOT romaticize this shit irl.

Notes_ I HAVE A REASON TO ADD THE JOE QUINN TAG, PLEASE READ JOHNNY STORM LOVERS, and listen to how did it end?, please please please and Be My Baby with this, worth it.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | Reed + Johnny playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The subway was awfully quiet yet at full capacity. You assumed everyone was minding their business as usual, but you thanked them because you could perfectly hear the radio of an elderly man playing “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes, and it made you smile.

Reed loved when you casually hummed and danced to the song as you cooked.

Oh, you were so in love.

It was at the beginning of your third semester of university when you met him. Being so introverted made it sweet and easy when you stepped into the wrong classroom, expecting an art class. Reed Richards, the physics professor let you know you were not in advanced sculpting class. He was so enchanted by your beehive hairstyle matching purple skirt and top, with a lilac sweater that had tiny embedded jewels.

He went to look after you that afternoon, learning you were at least past your teenage years and that you were not a science person like him.

And the rest was history, after months of having casual dates, he visited you often, and even met your parents. You loved him.

Reed was extremely smart. Always brings you the right gifts although you never ask him for anything. Always suggesting the best places to have dinner. It was like he had everything perfectly measured to make you happy.

I'll make you happy, baby,

just wait and see

For every kiss you give me,

I'll give you three.

Your stop was next and you enjoyed the rest of the song as you savored the feeling of being in love.

Walking through the streets you realized you had nothing else to do for the rest of the week regarding academic stuff. You also were expecting to arrive before the sunset at your home to start dinner. Reed was coming and your parents were going to join you two too.

For a moment you don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before.

Your dad opened a bottle of wine when you heard a knock on the door and that had you already blushing. You placed more raspberries and sliced lemon pieces on top of the cake you started as soon as you arrived home.

Reed greeted your parents and they welcomed him kindly.

“Our girl is in the kitchen,” your dad said.

“On my way to her,” you giggled, hearing his footsteps.

Immediately his hands came to lock around your waist. Which startled you but soon made you laugh.

“Hello, my love,” he said kissing your cheeks from behind.

“Reed! I’m trying to finish the cake” Giggling and trying to get away from him, he made you spin around before pulling closer and finally plastering a big kiss on your lips.

You melt into his touch in a second.

“Too bad I have more appetite for kissing my girl” you gently pushed him, returning to finish the cake.

“Don’t be like that… I put my heart in this one” Reed got closer, admiring your cooking skills. He then moved his eyes to appreciate you. His smile grew as his heart started beating faster.

“You sing, you dance, you sculpt, cook and bake. Darling, you’re perfect!”

“Kiss me again and I might believe it, baby” his silly smile made you chuckle, accepting his embrace and another kiss. It took you by surprise when gently pinned you against the counter, making you let out a gasp after feeling his manhood brushing your inner thigh.

“Are we still up for dinner?” Your mother called, peeking through the door of the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Yes. Sorry, Mom” you apologized feeling a sudden sense of embarrassment. Reed let you go, immediately helping you to grab some plates.

“We’ll continue this in the studio, darling” his hand reached out and gave you a soft spank in the ass, making your eyes wide open.

“Reed!”

“I said what I said, dear”

You would never deny his touch. The way the mere brush of the tip of his fingers could set you on fire and he perfectly knew the spots to make your body burn. So you just smiled naughtily. When he turned to see you again, you gained the courage to show him the outline of your shiny mint underwear that was lying under your dress.

“You’re killing me, y/n”

“After dinner, you can do everything to stop me”

His face was priceless, he blushed and looked adorable being so.

“How does it feel this summer without teaching?” You heard your father asking Reed after you gently pushed him out of the kitchen.

Between the laughs of your family and boyfriend, and the soft music playing in the background, you feel very happy.

…

“Reed…” you moaned his name as you watched his face under the hem of your dress. His lips were constantly licking your wet folds and had you biting your own hand to prevent louder moans.

“Darling… you are so pretty moaning like that for me” his hands snaked through your ass to the back of your knees, opening your legs even wider.

You were so close, your eyes closed in advance and you grasped at his hair harder.

yes, yes, yes, oh!… oh no.

His watch oddly beeped. The bubble of pleasure exploded, leaving only ashes of what had been the lust.

“I gotta go…” you frowned.

“What?… Why?”

“A friend. From work… he has a deadline for professors, I promised I would send him some of my archives to save him time,” he said and it only made you frown more.

“Can’t you send him the archives at least after making me reach an orgasm?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to have breakfast at your favorite place. Then we can have some fun time in my car” he attempted to soothe your worries but it clearly didn’t work.

“Oh… okay, Reed”

He kissed your forehead before squeezing your hand and finally leaving.

The bitter taste of uncertainty hit you. And before you could even prevent it, you were distrusting Reed.

The next morning, while he talked about how lovely you looked and how great was his breakfast, you barely paid attention. While he took your body to the backseat of his car, more than pleasure you felt uncertainty again.

And no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you didn’t believe Reed.

…

It’s all in the past three weeks later. Everything went back to normal, dates were perfect again, and sex was pure gold again. You had no complaints about your relationship with your much older boyfriend.

Even better when he announced he got tickets to see The Beatles on Saturday.

You got your hair straightened. A black turtleneck dress, red seen-through tights, and matching red heels.

Your eyeliner was more perfect than ever. And Reed came to pick you up with a huge bouquet of flowers.

“How did you get the tickets, love?” you asked as he drove.

“Oh, I have a friend who works in the media. A dating show has its target audience set…”

You wonder what show he meant. There were some popular shows on the TV airing at the time. That’s long short story when you notice Reed had been watching you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I love the sight of you…” his words made you blush. Much more when he leaned to give you a quick kiss that you enjoyed as if it was the last. His beard tickled you and only made you smile more.

“I don’t want to die without seeing The Beatles, Reed” He started laughing and soon you followed with a giggle.

He pulled into a parking lot, and you already felt excited, seeing the crowds making line to go inside the venue, waiting for the concert to begin.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” You squealed, hurrying to apply some more lipstick before getting out of the car.

“Honey, you don’t need more makeup, you already look gorgeous,” Reed said.

“But it’s your favorite color” he looked, noticing it was indeed his favorite color, crimson red.

“Damn right… it is my favorite color” Both of you laughed as you started walking outside of the parking lot.

He placed his arm around your shoulders but soon you remember.

“Wait!… I forgot my coat” Reed hands you the car keys and you go back.

The last sun's rays hit the car when you open the backseat door. You leaned to grab your coat, but a shimmery item caught your attention.

Locked under the passenger seat, you struggle to grab the object, not being able to see just guided by the touch.

First, you felt a paper and a harder one, like a card. Then, with your pinky fingers, you felt a cold rounded object.

Your heart pounded as you fished the object with your pinky fingers.

An ID from the NASA that belonged to a woman, named Susan Richards aka Sue Storm. She was older, but extremely pretty; blonde, blue eyes, perfect nose, perfect hair, just some years younger than Reed.

A picture of your boyfriend with the same woman of the ID, both looking at the camera, her hand gently placed against his chest, a big diamond in a ring also positing for the picture.

And the ring. The solid proof of your sudden question.

“Darling, Why are you taking so long?”

“You are married?” You asked, handing him the golden wedding band with one hand and slamming the door of his car with the other.

“Darling…” he tried to reason, but you are enraged, red face and watered eyes.

“Why am I even questioning? Of course, you are married, Reed!” your hand dropped the picture and ID, and his attempts to calm you failed.

You can’t even process what is happening, you are just being consumed by the anger caused by his betrayal.

“We were going through a rough phase. And then I met you. I- I don’t even know what I’m doing right now” he admitted, sighing, accepting he was an asshole and a loser.

“AS IF I CARE!… YOU LIED TO ME!”

“Let me talk and explain, y/n”

You let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to keep the tears from falling. Your head started pounding, your body welcoming the stress.

“No. Don’t call me again, don’t get close to my university on campus. Just… don’t you ever try to come back into my life again.” he called your name plenty of times, and you heard his footsteps following you, but after leaving the parking lot of the restaurant, he stopped.

After a good time trying to prevent the tears, you started crying. You loudly sobbed, ignoring the few people you encountered while crossing the streets of the vivid city.

By the time you are seated in the subway once again, you don’t realize you have walked more than five blocks. You could only think about Reed.

Every moment with him felt genuine. He was kind, attentive, romantic, and… honest.

Never gave a sign to make you believe you couldn’t trust him, more like the contrary. And that was the worst part.

Maybe you just loved him so hard that it made you blind to see that his love was a lie.

…

The phone rang every day. You never answered. A month passed and you avoided the rest of your life on the beaches of Florida.

Your parents believed Reed took advantage of his P.H. D out of the city, so it was better to break up. But they could bear seeing their poor daughter going through some breakdown.

And when you came back to the city, the neighbor told you your ex-boyfriend had sent flower bouquets during your vacation, not knowing you were out.

It only made you feel worse. Questioning How could you have missed the signs of him being married?. And now that the damage was done. Did the wife know? Did Reed ever love you?

If he couldn’t be faithful to his wife, certainly not to you.

But those thoughts are the kind of thing that makes you go out with one eye covered in purple eyeshadow and the other in bright orange. Mismatched socks and disheveled hair. Some girls laugh at you when you enter a cafeteria but you honestly don’t give a damn. You just want a sandwich.

After paying, you’re once again daydreaming with overthinking about Reed. Without realizing a man had stood beside you.

“Hey... I saw the girls over there laugh but… I like the way you styled yourself” You turn to see the stranger.

“I’m so lost in the head, I did something bad that I didn’t even realize what I was choosing” you admitted, moving to grab some dressing and napkins while waiting for your order.

“Well, it must been really bad, with all due respect.”

“It was…”

“Is it too bad that I’m curious to know?” He asked and you shook your head, sighing.

“I was dating a married man and I didn’t know,” you said looking down, too embarrassed to look at the guy in the eye.

“It’s not your fault if you didn’t know” it took you by surprise.

“I know. But it pains me so much because it thought it was… real.” a lady called your name, letting you know your order was ready.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling my problems to strangers. Thanks for listening, have a great day” you said, walking away to grab your sandwich.

“Wait!” The man called you.

“I don’t mind hearing. My brother-in-law always says I’m an asshole but I can actually listen to people. If you had no plans… We could have lunch together” he revealed, making you smile gently.

“I was going to take this home and eat alone. So yes, we could have lunch together…” you finally analyzed him. Definitely closer to your age than your failed previous relationship. He was blonde and had kind eyes, that no matter what you wouldn’t trust at all after what happened with Reed. But this man seemed sweet, slightly cheeky, and too much extroverted, but you liked it.

“I didn’t catch your name before,” he said.

“I’m y/n…”

“Johnny… Johnny Storm” You remember it was the same name as Reed’s wife. But you can’t think this man had something to do with them. You can’t live continuing with mixing Reed with every step you took.

“I like your jacket”

“Thanks. I almost set it on fire this morning” You didn’t think he was saying it for real, so you laugh.

And oh, how much things changed after that.

…

Five months later, in the peak of autumn, Johnny and you celebrated your first month together. And accidentally you discovered he had some… abilities regarding fire.

Soon later, he was convinced you had to meet his family, so you agreed.

But when his sister opened the door, your face went pale. The woman in the ID you found in Reed’s car greeted you along Ben Grimm and soon you encountered with the cause of your endless midnights in sorrow.

Reed Richards looked the same. Wearing his usual clothes, the grey hairs above his ears, a charming smile, and an intellectual vocabulary.

Acting like strangers, he greeted you, pretending he never met you, never kissed you, never touched you.

Reed just slipped from you, but you weren’t afraid to walk away, just truly and messily hurt. Then you met Johnny, magically disappearing the weight of your broken heart. Even so, while walking inside the house, talking to the wife of your ex-boyfriend, you felt his eyes on you.

Reed was merely shocked, not knowing anything about you in months, then suddenly walking into his home as Johnny’s new girlfriend. He was horrified, but then he realized that he was no better than his brother-in-law. Reed always thought Johnny was an asshole for cheating on girls and being condescending. But you had truly changed him. Johnny followed you like a lost puppy, Reed questioned if you were a witch. And he accepted he wasn’t over you.

“How on earth did this happen?” Reed asked you in a brief moment of privacy.

“I don’t know, but I think I’m falling in love with him, Mr. Fantastic” you whispered in his ear. Reed saw how your eyes briefly glowed and he feared you, but more than fear, he felt panic about you completely forgetting about him.

As you walked inside the kitchen, following the conversation with Ben and Sue, Reed was witness of how you dropped a picture of his wedding with Sue, without touching it.

“What was that?” The blonde woman asked.

“A picture, the frame hit the ground very hard” Reed calmed her, but he grabbed the item, noticing how it left some of your strange energy. He would take that frame to run some tests and discover what the hell were you hiding.

Reed entered the kitchen finally, and saw how Johnny kissed your temple, his hand on the small of your back to lead you towards the table to have dinner. You weren’t lying, you were falling in love with Johnny, but you thought back at Reed, and couldn’t comprehend how did it end?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @raiyna-rred

Idk, I’m just excited for this movieeeeeee

#pedro pascal x reader #reed richards x reader #johnny storm x reader #joseph quinn x reader

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wandascrush · 2 months

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Meet cute

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nerves, money troubles, female reader, popular girls? A/N: In works to be a series, more parts soon! “I love you…but I will never stop hating you,” you practically whispered out the last line. The small phone booth you were in smelled like cigarettes and dust. You heard her breath on the other line, shakey. She said nothing. The endless rain created a waterfall on the glass windows, making your wife, Jamie, look like a blur of colors on the other side of the road, standing there with your two children. That was the last time you ever spoke to her.

1954-Junior Year- NYC

The first time you ever talked to Natasha was on the first day of Junior Year at Manhattan School for the Gifted. It was one of the most prestigious highschools in New York City and only few above a certain IQ were accepted. You were lucky enough to be above that IQ and be riding on a scholarship. You’d always seen her around the halls, classy, preppy, talking with her friends or teasing the poor boys that drooled over her (they didn’t stand a chance). Everyone knew her family, the Romanoffs, and her father, the head chief of the NYPD. To be frank, your opinion of her was nothing short of the rumors you’d been told- Natasha Romanoff was a rich bitch that only got into this school because of money. You know what they say, money makes the world go ‘round. So it shocked you when she gently tapped you on the shoulder as you were putting your books away in your locker, “Y/N right? I’m your locker buddy.”

“Yeah, Y/N L/N. Pleased to meet you,” you felt weird about shaking her hand but there it was, awkwardly waiting for hers to shake back. Being forced to look at her also made you realize what pretty eyes she had, as if someone took the greenest pieces of the forest and made them into her soft orbs.

She gently swatted your hand away, laughed, and pulled you into a soft hug, “I’m a hugger, silly.” The innocence of it genuinely touched you, and an unfamiliar feeling sprouted in your chest. That first day of Junior year, for whatever odd reason, she followed you around to break, lunch, and even got on the same bus as you after school, the fabric of her soft skirt rubbing up against your leg the entire ride home. As sweet as she was, the tension in the air was thick as you both knew her hanging around you was nothing short of unnatural.

Yes, you were beautiful in your own right with big e/c eyes and soft skin, bouncy hair and sharp intelligence, and you could easily fit in with someone like Natasha- but your friend group wasn’t exactly popular. You were all working class girls who had to catch a job after school, instead of hang around the popular spots like some of the other kids in your grade. The girls that were able to hang out at the vinyl shop or at Joe’s burger spot didn’t let the difference between you and them go unnoticed- and most of those girls were Natasha’s friends.

Natasha rode your subway all the way to Brooklyn, where you worked at the corner bodega, your parents shop. Right before she followed you in, you turned around, “Uhm- sorry, Natasha. It’s not that I don’t want to be friends and all, but you’ve followed me a whole 45 minutes to my job just because?” You saw the way she bit her lip and hugged her played with her hair out of nervousness, “Well, I mean I do want to be friends, of course…but I also heard you were pretty good in the STEM area. Look, Mr. Stark has a project for us that he’s going to show at our end of the year fair and I don’t know shit about robotics. I was thinking…maybe you could help?” She looked at you with doe eyes and a little smirk after her rather colorful language that told you maybe there was more to this girl. Maybe. The way she talked to you was different too, not necessarily just friendly- and anything but cold. You shifted your weight to lean against the wall, contemplating her words. A part of you wanted to say no, but she slowly pulled a small little envelope out of her book bag. Your heart leaped at the thought of it being what you wanted most…cold, hard, cash. Cash that your family really needed.

“This is just a starting amount, is $85 a week okay? You could come over to my house maybe twice a week for a few hours and we can work on it.” “I’ll start Monday.”

Later that night, as you tied your hair into rollers and tucked yourself into your cozy bed, Natasha lied awake in bed as she thought about your interaction. Her mind replayed your smile, nervous laughter, and the way you made your friends laugh so hard at lunch that they cried. She wished she enjoyed her friends that much. Each time her eyes closed, your face popped up in her mind. The redhead started retracing your features like a picture. What was wrong with her? A warm feeling blossomed in the pit of her stomach, slowly working its way up to her chest- but she stopped it. Not again. Natasha Romanoff is completely normal, completely perfect…and completely straight.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x female #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha Romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader

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yoongis-black-grilfriend · 2 years

Text

Crazy in Love

Summary: You enjoy taking care of a child with your boyfriend, Joe. Since he already had a son, you thought it best to wait to have one of your own. But Joe has other plans…

Warnings: This one is dark loves (beware). Hiding of birth control (and switching them out), Stalking, Jelousy, Forced Breeding, Bondage (handcuffs), Overstimulation, Pentrative Sex, Somnophila, Creampie, Descriptive Sex, and probably some more enjoy!

Y/n, my dear y/n, why must you attract attention everywhere you go? Why must you be so fucking beautiful? I watch as you walk around the Halloween store looking for a costume, and I've noticed that his eyes have been on you since you entered.

Who, you might ask? The clerk. The guy that is supposed to be doing his job instead of eyefucking with my son in your hands. You would think a baby would keep these assholes away, but they don’t. If anything, they make them worse. He must think you're a single mother in need of a man to fuck her because she hasn't been touched in so long.

He's wrong though. John, which I learned from reading his name tag, is so fucking wrong. He is still at his desk, yet it appears he is ready to make a move on you, my love. I walk over in my hat and glasses, feigning an interest in something.

“Hey man, do you know where I can find the masks?” He looks annoyed because he was just a moment away from tapping you on your shoulder and trying to take you away from me, and that is not going to happen. He looks annoyed, but I do not give one single damn.

I see you have found a costume. It's unfortunate that I was occupied with John over here and couldn't see it, but it's okay. I love surprises. You're now making your way home, and that's all that matters. John gives up once he sees you walking out of the store and rolls his eyes, pointing to the back of the store.

Now it is time for me to hurry home. With a smile, I make John's day even worse. “On second thought I think I might go to another store thank you buddy.” And he is off stomping back to his counter. Exiting the store, I enter my car and make my way home, back to you and henry.

The moment I walk through our door, I see you setting Henry in his highchair, getting him ready for lunch. I appreciate and adore you more and more every day because of the way you treat him like your own. As soon as you saw I was in the kitchen, you broke into a wide smile and instantly made my day.

“How was the Halloween store?” Even though I already know the answer, I still want to hear your gentle voice. “It was good, baby. I got us all costumes for your friend's costume party, we're going as the Flinstones.” You said, putting your soft lips in a kiss. I favor the moment as you slip your tongue in my mouth.

The kiss was about to turn into a make-out session until Henry started to babble when he finally spotted me. You break the kiss to look at him with the most perfect timing because your alarm for birth control goes off. You hurry off by giving me a peck on my cheek.

You are such a silly girl. Rushing off to go take your birth control. It’s a shame you don’t know that I have been swapping them out with pills that help you get pregnant. It's all a part of our future and I'm doing this for us.

I have already arranged for this to happen tonight so you can enjoy your last day of not being pregnant because this is definitely going to happen. Henry is almost through eating when you return to the kitchen and seat down next to me.

You pick up where you left off and start to eat the food that you prepared for Henry and yourself. I just can't help but notice how beautiful and breathtaking you look when you put the spoon to your lips, taking a bite out of your creation. The moan you let out when you taste it does something to me, something feral.

With each bite I watch as you lick your lips before they curve around the spoon. And it’s helpless for me to not imagine how they would feel against mine, so impossibly smooth. How velvety your tongue would feel licking up and down my- I am suddenly pulled from my thoughts as you stand to pick up a spoon henry dropped onto the floor. But just as quickly, I go back to them as I watch you bend down. I have to hold myself back from just taking you right there.

You return back to your meal. Once you've finished eating and clearing your dishes, you notice that Henry was done with his food as well. By this time, it was about 5 pm, which meant that Henery needed to be put down for a nap soon. I lift out of my chair, ready to clean him off, but you're always one step ahead of me. You order me to sit down before you take Henry to wash him off to lay him down.

You come back in about 10 minutes with a sheepish smile on your face. “He has been active all day, but I'm going to lay down a little bit. Do you want to come?” you asked me. How could I say no to a face like that? I nodded my head signally that I’ll take a nap with you as we made our way into our shared bedroom. You go to your dresser and I notice how you put on some shorts without any panties.

After you climb into bed and wait for me to join you, I take my shirt off and get into bed next to you, wrap my arms around you, bury your head in my chest, and immediately fall to sleep with light snores escaping your lips. I admire you while you sleep. How could I possibly not? I notice the way your chest rises and down. I can feel your nipples through the thin material of your shirt on my chest. I definitely can't help but notice your leg wrapped around mine. Every now and then you rub yourself against my leg and I feel myself harden under my sweatpants.

I let you sleep for at least an hour before I decide to make my move. I reach over and unlock my drawer, revealing two sets of handcuffs. I slowly push you to lay on your back. I take hold of your wrist and attach one pair to chain your wrist to the headboard before doing the same with the other. Grabbing a condom, I make sure to make as many holes I can with a tack before I turn my attention back to you.

Using my fingertips, I run them over your body as you still lay dead asleep. I pull your shorts to the side and pull my shorts off. I wrap my hands around my cock and fist it a couple of times. Collecting the precum on my fingers, I rub it onto your clit to give you some type of lubrication.

Rolling the condom onto my cock, I move in between your legs and enjoy the last few moments of your sleeping face before I move my cock inside of you slowly. You're still sleeping as I go inch by inch. I trust my hips slightly faster as I hold my groans in, not wanting to wake you up. The pleasure is way too strong right now. Even in your sleep your pussy fits around me like a tight sleeve.

You start to stir in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper. “Fuck”. That was music to my ears as I stroke faster feeling my cock twitch inside of you due to you and your damn walls clenching against me. “Fuck, y/n I could’nt resist, baby. You looked so fucking hot while you were sleeping, I couldn’t help myself,” I say as I notice you have woken up while you stare up at me, holding your moans back with your eyes glossy and mouth wide open.

“Joe, fuck” you whimpered. Your voice drives me to the edge, causing me to release along with you. The milk of my cum and it all going inside of you (little do you know). I pull out quickly, causing you to hiss at the loss of contact, and take the condom off, throwing it in the trash next to our bed. I can hear you breathing deeply as you close your eyes and process the orgasm you just had.

Once more, I slip between your legs and completely bury my cock inside of you. Your hands are raised over your head as you stare up at me, appearing as though your eyes would bulge out of your head. You are so fucking wet that I slip in and out of you quickly because of the ring of cum on my cock. “Baby your fucking me so good,” you say a little loudly. I cover your mouth with my hand as I feel you sob against it, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

Moving my hips faster, I pound into you as you cry. I can feel your tears on my palms and I see them coating your beautiful face. “Lovely, I’m about to cum again, are you with me?" I said, wanting to cum at the same time. You nod against my hand in reply. I detach my palm from your face. “Joe, make sure to pull out okay!” You say with a little desperation. “I will sweetheart don’t worry about it,” I say, knowing that I'm not. You clench around and start to shake as you start cuming on my cock. I can feel the warmth of your cum spread between us as I bottom out and cum so fucking deep inside of you.

“Baby I told you not to cum inside me!” you whine, highly upset, trying to free yourself of the handcuffs. “Calm down my sweet y/n, I have a plan b you can take.” I reassure myself knowing that the “plan b” that I’m going to give you is a sugar pill. We both put on our clothes and head out to check on Henry after I release you from the handcuffs and give you the pill. After seeing that he was okay we lay down and sleep for the rest of the night.

THE NEXT DAY

We at your friend's house and I were dressed as the flintstones as we walked around greeting everyone. You look so beautiful with your costume and carry Henry around in his I can't wait to see you pregnant walking around with Henry letting everyone know that you're mine.

After A while things started to wiehle down and we were all sitting around the couch playing games and watching movies. Until you aburty hand Henery off to one of your friends before you speed walk into the bathroom I follow you because I'm worried until I see you hunched over the toilet throwing up. I hold your hair back because I care about you and I care about us and our future together.

“Ugh I feel so horrible” you said sitting down on the bathroom floor catching your breath. “I’ll schedule a doctor's appointment tomorrow so we can see what's going on” I said as you looked up at me with a smile. “Thank you babe. What would I do without you.” you explained putting flutters in my chest.

I’m happy that you see a glimpse of what I would do for you…

Austin! Elvis post will be posted tomorrow thank you for all the love you guys have been giving my imagine. I appreciate all of you 😭🫶🏾

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slutouttanowhere · 26 days

Text

All Yours | C. Punk

Pairings: CM Punk x Sabrina Richards(oc)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: public sex, unprotected sex, oral(f) and (m) receiving, non-labeled relationship, age gap(oc is mid twenties), spiting, and vulgar language. A twitter p*orn link was included in this story. Not for minors

Authors note: this fic, listen this one beat my ass I cannot lie, but I threw that Normani on and I ended up having so much fun with it. This felt oddly therapeutic in some parts, and I was inspired by @harmshake to rip Punker a new one. The title was taken from All Yours by Normani, I hope you all enjoy, and as always follow me for more.

Sabrina is leaning against the door frame of Shawn Micheals’ office door, he called her in for a few notes he wanted her to hit on her interviews that night for the show. “Okay, Joe Hendry’s first appearance is tonight, so I’ll be sure to grab him, and make sure we get a camera on him right out of the battle royale.” She mumbled as she went over her list making sure she had all her notes. She said her goodbyes to her boss, and as she turned to make her way down the hall, she bumped into someone.

“Well today must be my lucky day, I was just looking for you.” Punk lied through his teeth, it would worry any normal person how easy it is to lie to peoples faces with such ease, but CM Punk isn’t a normal person. A tired expression crossed Sabrina’s face, CM Punk was in the performance center more than the nxt talent, and that annoyed her. Still, she couldn’t ignore the boost it did for ego that someone like Punk gave her so much attention. And unfortunately for her she did find his “charm” attractive enough to entertain him.

“Sure you were.” She said dryly, his hazel eyes raked her body, and shamelessly slowed at her breast. They ended up in a coat room closet entangled at TKO celebration, and she’s been trying to avoid him ever since. Leave it to CM Punk to be persistent.

Punk’s lips stretched into that classic smirk of his, despite her attitude, she hadn’t bothered to pick up her pace, or totally shoo him off. I do have a knack for toxicity don’t I? Punk humorously thought to himself, “so, word on the street is someone’s birthday is today.”

Sabrina’s heart jumped, she had stopped walking, it was then that she realized they ended up in a deserted hall, or was it that he had herded her in that direction while she was distracted? “What happened to your piercing?” She suddenly asked, her eyes fixated on the tiny puncture hole on his bottom lip where his lip ring used to be.

“You’re deflecting, so when’s the party?” His eyebrow quirked, he came to stand in front of Sabrina as she leaned her back against a wall. She really was gorgeous to him, but she just held back too much he felt. There were times when some of the other female talents were being so nasty to her, and he hated it, but it’s not like he could interfere with another woman’s business. He’d ask her about it, and she’d make up a lame excuse like, “it’s not worth the drama,” which Punk felt like if someone scuffed your shoe it’s definitely worth the drama.

“That’s what really made me fall in love with you when I was growing up. It’s just a silly little piercing, but it wasn’t just that, it was everything else added to it. You were everything that girls like me weren’t supposed to like.” She paused, her gaze not quite meeting his, usually he didn’t like her little anecdotes distracting him from what he originally was bothering her about, but this was more than she’s ever given him. He stood with his arms folded, interested in what she had to say.

She sighed as if recalling the memories of her early days exhausted her, “I was raised a good ole Christian girl, church every Sunday, and praying before bed every night. I wasn’t supposed to be watching things like wrestling but it was the one worldly thing my mom allotted me in exchange for my obsession with the occult.” Punk tittered, he looked at the woman standing before him now and tried to imagine a less…gray, version of her. She was just as tatted, and pierced as he is now. Perhaps that was his doing, oops.

“Back then, I wasn’t watching wrestling for John Cena, or Rey Mysterio. Nah, I was watching every Monday night for the Randy Ortons, The Undertaker…for you.” Punks eyebrows shot up in shock, he looked around and then pointed to himself for conformation.

Sabrina giggled, “yea you mister straight edge.” She wasn’t sure why she was spilling her juicy secrets to him, but anything was better than talking about her birthday. “You were a sacrilegious jackass who’s offenses knew no bounds, and that was the thing I loved about you so much.”

There was a long pause, “you’re a heathen, and you probably should have been taken to therapy.” He snorted, Sabrina rolled her eyes, “alright then let me have it, I can tell by the way you pinch your lips you’re holding back from verbally assaulting me.” Punk offered. His tone humorous, he was still unaware just how serious she was being.

“Okay fine.” She nodded her head decidedly, “you’re not used to compliments, and you could say it’s because you’re oh so humble. Or you could say that, because you’re so busy shitting on yourself with the constant woe is me bullshit you never see how much we adored you. You can’t see past your own self pitty, and how under appreciated you felt, you didn’t even realize when you walked out that door we all walked with you.” She only paused to take a breath, “but then as of the dramatic exit to end all dramatic exits weren’t enough, you took the company, chewed it up and spat it out. Then for some reason that wasn’t even the icing on the trauma cake, you didn’t just return once, you returned twice. God forbid you don’t outdo yourself. Point is…you changed, and if I’m being honest I don’t totally buy it. The clean boy act, the suits, the making amends, it’s bullshit.”

To Punk’s shock Sabrina’s revelation got under his skin, no one’s ever tried to hold him up to the light like this and he’s not sure if he likes it. “So what do you want from me? I’m 45 for crying out loud. I can't exactly start locker room fights.” He snapped at her, his voice raising above his normal volume.

“I want that lip piercing back, I want you to stop wearing those goddamn suits and be the Grinch I know you are.”

“What the fuck Sabrina, are you crazy.” He laughed, the way she looked at him actually made him feel a little nervous, she was being so aggressive, but he liked it. This is what he's been wanting from her, a little bite back, a little zest. Maybe I should ask her about her birthday more often.

She grabbed onto his tie, pulling him towards her till it was barely any space left between them. His hands hovering over her hips, his head craned around looking for any other talent, or officials that might come across them. Sabrina didn’t seem to give a fuck who saw them, which was news to him. Her eyes flickered to the arm brace that was tightly pinched over his suit jacket. “You don’t even need that arm brace do you?”

Turning his attention back to her, he grinned, “redacted.”

“Jade let it slip that Lash and Jakara are throwing me a surprise party. Everyone is invited, even old dogs.” She said playfully, Punk rolled his eyes, but he let her have it.

“Should I even bother bringing you a gift?”

She thought about letting him off the hook, but since he’s the one that started this conversation, why not get something out of it? “Wear the piercing.” She demanded in a soft voice, her arms sliding up his chest, and around his neck. She could smell his expensive cologne, she guessed it was something like Gucci, or Versace.

Punk let out a chuff of air, his minty breath fanning her face. “You gotta be kidding?” He was going to do it anyway, he didn’t need convincing, however, if she was willing to change her mind he wouldn’t be mad at that either.

Sabrina pushed herself off the wall which only brought them closer, Punks hands now gripping her waist, “think of it as cosplay, and if you do, we can have a repeat of TKO party…sober.” She ran her fingers through the curtains of his hair from front to back, and gripped his brunet strands. His growl mixed with laughter was all she needed. Before he had a chance to rebuttal, he pushed him away, blew him a kiss, and headed down the hall. Punk shamelessly watched her walk away, committing the way her cheeks bounced as he walked to his memory.

—

The party Lash and Jakar threw for Sabrina was every bit of wild as she expected. There was an even mix of people she, and people she didn’t packed their shared apartment. Music was way too loud to hear her own thoughts, which meant there would absolutely be a noise complaint from their tenant. She took a few shots to make everyone else feel like she was grateful to be there, but as soon as she was away from prying eyes she slipped off to her bedroom.

As soon as plopped down at her desk someone knocked on the door, “now who the hell?” She mumbled, reluctantly she crossed the room again, only to cuss out the person that was ruining her personal time.

“My bad, thought this was the bathroom.” Punk grinned, Sabrina was surprised he actually showed up, and in dress code. His red Ralph Lauren polo matched his Vans, and his dark blue jeans tied the whole look together. His toned, tattooed arms stood out against the deep reddish top he wore. So you have been spending more hours in the gym. Sabrina mentally noted the way his chest looked more elevated, she couldn’t see his physique well in those dreaded three piece suits. She grimaced at that stupid arm brace he didn’t need, she tried not to let it ruin the moment for her.

She shook her head, trying to fight the smile on her lips, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach, and the sudden ache of desire between her thighs. She always felt Punk looked handsome, but he brought some extra heat with him that she’s not used to seeing. “Well look what the scene dragged in, you look good.”

“Yeah? Not bad for an old dog.”

“Just shut up and get in here before someone notices I’m hiding.” Sabrina grasped his large hand in hers, the glint of his watch caught her eye as she closed the door, and locked it behind her. She pressed her back to the door letting out a breath of relief, as her eyes fluttered closed Punk took her in. Her outfit was very revealing, he’s never seen this much of her skin before, but then again he’s not down in Florida all the often. Her little black dress stopped mid thigh, it was strapless which didn’t help to support her large breast. Her legs and thighs were covered with black lace stockings that had pentagram designs on them. As sexy as the dress was on her, she decided to wear doc martens. A real Cinderella, Punk wasn’t sure if he should sit, though he was clean, her room somehow felt cleaner.

His eyes swept around the dark room, it was very strategically designed which told him more about her personality than what he thought he knew originally. “What, no poster of me?”

“I had a poster of you, I replaced it with Drew McIntyre when you pissed me off at Clash.” She was proud of that burn, the look on his face was worth the lie, but for now she simmered in his agitation.

“Cute.” He grumbled, that’s when she noticed it, the lip ring.

She crossed the room to him, she knew exactly what she wanted, and he knew it too. The game of cat and mouse was over for her, “you wore the piercing.” She met him where he stood in the middle of the room, one hand on his chest, and the other stroked his bottom lip with her index finger.

“Of course I did as told.” He smiled proudly.

“What good boy you are, come sit.” Sabrina plopped down on her bed, the blankets were pulled back to reveal Akatsuki, from Naruto, themed sheets. Punk wasn’t familiar, but he knew it had to be some sort of cartoon knowing Sabrina.

He watched her from where he stood, suddenly his skin felt hot, and he was sure his cheeks were flushed. She sat with her legs crossed, hands in lap, she looked so harmless, but he wouldn’t be fooled. “I can’t promise you I won’t bite, but I’m in a mood.” She purred, her hand patting the empty spot next to her, Punk breathed through his nose. Her room smelled like vanilla and chocolate, a contrast to her perfume which smells like cotton candy. Even if he wanted to think clearly he couldn’t, she had him surrounded.

He came to sit beside her, it was then he realized that he did have a gift to give her. “Oh, this is for you.” He dug a small, rectangular box from his pocket, it was covered in black velvet, and wrapped with a lavender purple chiffon ribbon tied in a bow. Sabrina was shocked, it looked like he put a lot of thought into it, all the other presents people brought her tonight were in dollar store gift bags. Not that she was complaining, she made it more than clear that she didn’t like to celebrate her birthday.

Her eyes slowly dropped to his tattooed covered hands, it was so small, but the gesture was so big. “Velvet, what a fancy gift.” She joked, she still hadn't taken the box from his hands, and a part of her didn’t. She wanted to skip this part all together, but she swallowed thickly, and took it from his hands. Neither of them spoke as she untied the ribbon, her heart hammered against her rib cage, and she wondered if he could hear it. She pulled the top off, and her breath caught in her throat.

“I know you’re really into spiders…for some creepy ass reason, but that’s who you are, a little weirdo.” Punk chuckled softly, inside the gift box, was a necklace with a spider made of sterling silver attached. Its abdomen had a shining red ruby in the center, and a single drop of pearl attached to its legs. What the hell made him buy me something so…intimate? She wondered, sure they flirted every now and again, usually when Punk was around all he ever did was annoy her. Sabrina understood that was his way of flirting, so she’d flirt back never thinking…

“Um…” Sabrina uttered, for the first time in his life, Punk felt uncomfortable. He just wanted to get her an actual good gift, Cody did warn him that maybe that’d be too much, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘Doing the most.’ Was in his nature.

He laid a hand on her wrist bringing her out of her thoughts, “it’s just a gift, I promise.” There was a sign of relief on her face, her body relaxed, but he could tell she was still confused by the sentiment. “Listen I’m an excellent gift giver, you’re lucky to be a witness of that…and besides you deserve to be gifted with something you actually like.” He smirked bringing the light energy back into the room, Sabrina chewed gingerly on her bottom lip.

Her gaze met him now, those pretty hazel eyes standing out against his dark, brunette hair. She reached out her hand, “I love it actually, it’s stunning. Thanks Phil.” Her smile genuine, he fought the urge to close his eyes, and take in her touch. She pulled away, took the necklace, and sat it on her night stand next to the bed.

“Listen, Sabrina—

She cut him off, “whatever this is between us, I don’t want it to end yet.” She cut right to the point, he didn’t question it, but instead pulled her into a hot kiss. Both of them needed to release the tension that’s been building over months. One hand held her to him, and the other gripped her thigh. They only separated to breathe, “I wanna use your face, can I sit on it Daddy?” Punk was already standing, and pulling his Polo off. Sabrina leaned back on her hands watching hold undress, a haughty smirk on his lips. Her eyes full of hunger as his hands slowly unbuckled his brown leather belt, and unbuttoned his pants. Her tongue slid across full, luscious lips. Punk stepped out of his Vans, set them to the side, and pulled his jeans down all the way, and kicked them out the way.

“All you gotta do is ask, Princess.” He teased, he ran a hand through his hair, this time he decided to not gel his hair down, he knew how much Sabrina liked to tug on it. “You see what you do to me, I’m so fucking hard.” He groaned, his hand gripped his dick over the fabric. As she stood to unzip her dress, Punk dropped to his knees before her, he kissed her thighs, and helped her step out of her boots. Her breathing was heavy, as the anticipation felt like it was killing her. It had been sometime since that company party. She’s been trying to recreate the way his tongue had traced her labia, but nothing would ever come close to the real thing.

He helped go tug her dress off, then threw it onto the bed behind them, and when he looked up he gripped his shaft harder. From this angle below her, he could see her curves even better than when he’s standing. “Fuck, come stand over here baby.” He directed her towards her desk, she faced towards the wall with her ass poked out, but when she peaked over her shoulder Punk was crawling towards her on all fours.

“That’s right, come get this ass.” Sabrina arched her back, she clapped her cheeks as she looked back at him, the friction causing her to ache more between her thighs. Punk hooked his finger over her lace stockings, as he pulled them down he trailed wet, hot kisses down her ass. Without looking he tossed her tights then eagerly pressed his face between her booty, and inhaled her deeply. “Fuck.” She hissed out, his roughly slapped her, then warmed her up before landing another thunderous blow down on her.

He pulled her panties to the side not even bothering to take them off, Sabrina was already too far from anything sensible, and once his tongue touched her clit, all decorum went flying out the window with the rest of her manners. He slurped her up all her juices, he covered his lips, nose, and beard in her essence. He reached his hand around her waist, his fingers made sloppy circles around her brown pearl. His tongue delved between both her holes, she held onto the desk with dear life, and twisted around to look at him. No one had ever eaten her like this. “Oh my god.” She cried, her fingers gripping his hair, his eyes looking up at her, he looked like a devil, “you're so nasty.” She moaned breathlessly, her hips rocked back and forth across his face. He held her by the hips so she wouldn’t lose footing, his lips caught her clit again, gently he sucked on her.

“Goddamn it, that’s so good.” She groaned she wasn’t sure when, or how the room had gotten so hot. She could feel sweat like her hairline, she could feel her baby edges peeling away from her forehead. “I’m so close, don't stop, please.” Sabrina begged, her hips bucked backwards, her throbbing intensified, and as her head fell backwards she was already done. A mix of her juices and his saliva sliding down her thigh. Punk wasn’t done yet, he slid his tongue back and forth between her folds until he felt like he had gotten every drop she had to over.

Punk grunted, “this ass is mine.” Then, disrespectfully spat on her pussy before trailing kisses up her lower back, to her shoulder. His thick, erected cock pressed against her as he held her by the waist from the back. “I’ve been thinking about this cunt of yours since I was on the plane here, all I’ve been wanting was to be so deep inside you.” He whispered in her ear, his hands found her breast, and caressed them gingerly. Sabrina swore she couldn’t see straight, or maybe it was from her eyes being rolled back.

“Prove it, fuck this pussy like it’s yours.” Sabrina breathed out, she could feel his tip slip over her entrance, he chuckled darkly, and kissed the shell of her ear.

“The only thing you’ll be craving for months is me sweetheart.” Before she could respond, he pushed himself slowly, and didn’t stop till he filled her all the way up.

“Ohhh fuck yes.” She cried out, the music too loud for anyone to hear them, Punk’s hand slid down to lower stomach, and held her against him. He pulled out of her, but leaving the tip in teasing her entrance.

He slapped her ass, “you want this dick baby? Let me fucking hear you.” This time he slammed back into her, over, and over till they were both fighting to catch their breath. His Instagram post of him doing hip thrust in the gym flashed in her mind, she couldn’t help but let out a giggle, mixed with a ragged moan.

“Fuck you.” She groaned, she leaned forward onto the desk, and hiked her knee up. She pushed back into him meeting his rhythm half way, peaking over her shoulder she could see him leaning back so he could watch her ass bounce.

He was grinning like a mad man. “That’s right, throw that ass back on me, just like that kitten.” Sabrina tightened around him, her knees weakened, and core aching so good. Punk leaned forward, one hand holding onto her waist, and the other wrapped around her throat. He filled her up perfectly, hitting all the right spots, and pounding her just the way she liked. He wouldn’t be back in Florida for a few months, so he put an extra special touch on it. Sabrina let her mouth fall open as moans, and whines of please poured out of her. “Fucking right, let that shit out, I wanna fucking hear it.” Punk encouraged her as he counted the steady rhythm, he could feel his own orgasam creeping up on him, but he knew she was closer.

“Ah! I’m gonna cum.” Sabrina breathed, Punks hand reached between them, his fingers massaging her clit. Her hand reached up and dug her fingers into her hair, “oh god don’t stop please.” She begged.

“I got you baby, I don’t care how long it takes, I’m not gonna stop.” His breath was warm against her, she inhaled his cologne deeply as she came undone underneath him. Had this been any other night her cries might have alerted her neighbors, but the bass of the loudspeakers made them unknown to the party goers. She took a second to catch her breath before spinning around, and now dropping to her knees. Mouth open, tongue out. “Look at you, such a good girl.” He praised, his hand massaging himself at a rapid rate, he held her head perfectly still. Milky white seman dribbled out of him, Sabrina took over, and wrapped her lips around his tip. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He changed over and over as she sucked him for everything he was worth, which wasn’t a whole lot in his opinion.

She swallowed without hesitation, Punk pulled her up from the floor, and pressed his lips to hers. It was sloppy at first, both of them too exhausted to do much of anything else, but it slowed to a softer touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck, a silly grin spread across his lips. “Happy Birthday Rin.” He hasn’t used that nickname since they first met three years ago. It was dumb but he was the only one that managed to get away with it.

“I’m gonna go shower.” Her own smile matching his, as she walked away, Sabrina thought this was the best birthday she had in years.

Tag list: @shes2real @joannasteez @plutokisss @naturallysunkisseddaisy

#cm punk fanfiction #cm punk smut #black!oc #wwe fanfiction #—tokio

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven

summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 5.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.

also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part six | masterlist | part eight

“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.

Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”

“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks.

“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you.

“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”

He smirks.

“And?”

“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time.

The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good.

As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction.

“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time.

“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.”

“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment.

It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze.

As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand.

“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned.

“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”

“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze.

“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking.

Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”

You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line.

You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area.

“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow.

This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”

“Jesper!”

“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own.

You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment.

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking.

“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment.

“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order.

“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd.

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans.

“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly.

“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way.

Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:

“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug.

“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”

It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with.

“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet.

“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”

“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously.

“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins.

“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response.

“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.

“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily.

“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”

It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”

“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”

It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind.

“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”

Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you.

He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”

“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his.

“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.”

“Skal!”

“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers.

“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca.

Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night.

You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:

“Eye contact?”

“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”

“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand.

“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet.

He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time.

And the more he learns, the more he likes you.

He really likes you.

Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you.

“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact.

You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you.

“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.”

You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction.

-------------------------------

In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had.

That anyone’s had, really.

“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear.

You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good.

“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully.

“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you.

Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss.

Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:

“Are you hungry?”

You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving.

“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back.

“Lead the way.”

Knowing it’ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.

You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.

“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.

But Luca doesn’t answer your question.

Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy.

“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time.

This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now.

“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk.

You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.”

“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is.

“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”

You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:

“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.”

You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this.

“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom.

-------------------------------

By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more.

You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island.

There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it.

“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining.

“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”

“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.”

You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.

“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”

Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story.

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously.

“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question.

“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing.

You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago.

“Is it okay… if I talk about him?”

“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.”

You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca.

“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”

“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”

“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly.

“And look at you now.”

“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”

“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes.

You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol.

“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time.

“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes.

“Mostly?” you question.

“Yeah um..” he trails off.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.

“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too.

“Okay,” you say, softly.

You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once.

“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours.

“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”

“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing.

“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”

You wait a beat before asking:

“And he never tried to keep in touch?”

“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically.

“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.”

“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”

“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it.

“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.

“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him.

“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands.

As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother.

“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him.

“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms.

“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily

“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips.

He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it.

As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words.

Permanent.

Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this:

If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

-------------------------------

As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you.

The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world.

Yep, that one.

You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom.

“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed.

Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him.

The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’

“Morning,” you reply softly.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name.

“Luca.”

“Yes, love?”

You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated.

“Touch me.”

No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration.

“May I?” he asks cooly.

You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it.

“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with.

“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily.

You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him.

“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?”

And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure.

“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan.

Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy.

“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”

“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you.

The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time.

“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you.

You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst.

It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax.

“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy.

And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time.

“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down.

You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly.

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here.

“Let’s get you some breakfast.”

-------------------------------

a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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bettysupremacy · 1 year

Text

Always There - Steve Harrington

Summary

w/c 3.9k

a/n based off of this song that drops me to my knees every time I listen to it. Lyrics are out of order, ignore it ♡

Request

You’ve been waiting for your lover, what you’ll discover, is she’s always there.

Long were the nights you once thought about Steve.

Seven and knee scrapes, you’d been there with a GI Joe bandage. Twelve and arguing parents, you’d been there with your palms, warm over his ears.

It was natural with him, always had been.

Fourteen and his first girlfriend, you’d been there with open arms during their break up. Though, he didn’t seem to mind she’d left him for Jack Thompson, a stumpy boy a year older than them. Like he anticipated it, like he knew it was coming. It’d always bewildered you that he wasn’t upset his first girlfriend was stolen from him, but he had you he’d said, and that was enough for him.

16 and Nancy wheeler, you’d stub the toe of your shoe into the ground when she came along, and pretend she didn’t get to you the way she did.

Steve with her was a lump in your throat, but what were you to do? He loved her, he told you, It was different than the other girls. You couldn’t inadvertently scare her off with your silence, or push her away with darting glares in the halls. She loved him too. Or, so he’d thought.

Steve didn’t know why it felt like he was forcing himself to love Nancy. It stressed him, weighing down on his tight chest when he’d thought about the way she proclaimed them bullshit. Like he was just some fling, some distraction.

Not her distraction. His.

“Bullshit.” Nancy had slurred. “We’re bullshit.”

And Steve wondered why it was you he wanted to reach for in the moment. He knew you’d be there to wipe the cold water of Nancy’s indifference from his face.

His body ached as you held him that night under silly confetti sheets he’d bought you. The same sheets you’d brought to your new apartment. Pent up stress leaving his body in guttural sobs, It embarrassed him, pushed him further into your own aching chest. You didn’t mind, preening from the attention he’s been lackluster with.

You toe at his hip now, under the roof of an apartment you two call your own. Thinking about it makes you a nostalgic Steve calls you silly for, so you sit quiet as he grabs your socked foot, thumb pressing into the soft middle. “Foot message?”

20 and grown up, you feel like he’s been taking care of you more lately.

He drops your foot. “You wish.”

You smile, all the cheek he loves, but he doesn’t look away from the blindingly bright TV. Your shoulders drop, wishing you’d catch him looking at you the way you looked at him.

Twenty felt nice on him. Twenty warmed his skin and broadened his shoulders. It was shown in the way his arms filled the sleeves of his crew necks, the way he carried himself with a new lightness.

You’d always known he’d look good grown up, and twenty was grown up when you were sixteen. Taxes and rent, grocery shopping and working a job, you’d always known it’d be Steve you’d do those arduous adult tasks with. You just hoped it’d be as his girlfriend, not his roommate.

It ached the 14 year old inside of you. Roommate wasn’t the best adjective for what you were, but it worked. He was your best friend, your diary, your Steve. Not your roommate. He hated it, correcting everyone in a 20 mile radius when they called you that.

Movie night with your roommate?

best friend

It’s only fair when you decide to push his buttons a little. The lack of attention eats you, and you know he doesn’t like to talk about his dates to you. “How was Carrie?”

“Hm?”

“Carrie?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out heavily. “She was fine.”

You nod slowly, though it still isn’t received, like the smile you had plastered on just for him 2 minutes ago.

He seems tired, though usually he’s able to muster a knock it off.

“There’ll be a second date?” You don’t know why you seek out this answer.

“Um,” his head lolls against the couch, turning to look at you. “No,” his head shakes, “I don’t think so.”

“What?” Your eyes squint. “Why not?”

His laugh is exasperated. “I don’t know, sweet thing.” Heat crawls up your neck, embarrassed at his unexpected attention. “Why are we playing 20 questions?”

“Sorry.” You murmur, drawing your knees up. Defensive, but he doesn’t mind.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs back, smile lilting his voice playfully. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes pop up to his. He’s grateful to make contact with them. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Cause we’re playing interrogate Steve.”

“I said sorry.” There’s a loose thread of the couch in between your fingers. You tie it anxiously.

“You didn’t need to.” He teases.

“I know.” You tease back, lighthearted. Just loud enough to hear, just quiet enough that you don’t have to use your voice, you’re scared he’ll hear the choke in your throat.

The couch below you crinkles as Steve turns back to his tv, and you’re embarrassed. So embarrassed.

He doesn’t know this, of course, but it still gnaws that he could see through your interrogation. As he’d put it.

“Y/N.” His voice is quiet.

The TV still plays, background noise though you pretend to pay attention.

“Hm?” You feign attention, or a lack thereof.

His hand drops from the couch cushion to your knee, squeezing concernedly. “Are you okay?”

Or maybe he does know. Maybe he knows more than you’d think.

“Yes, Steve,” There’s a weak laugh that makes him frown. “Are we playing interrogate Y/N now?”

“No,” he drags out, gently. “you just seem.. sad?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

“No,” he says again, a little more stressed. “I just mean- shit, I can tell you want to cry.” his chest hurts. “Did I do something?”

Your head shakes, words failing you.

He’s upset now. Not at you, of course, but at himself for being the reason you weren’t able to talk.

“M’sorry.” His head shakes, dismissing his earlier question. “Please don’t be upset with me, just.. tell me when you’re ready.”

You nod, knowing that he‘s still watching, though he’s turned back to Full House.

Something about him noticing your upset doesn’t sit right with you. He’s known you since you were 5, of course he can tell when you want to cry. Of course he notices the freckle next to your eye and the birthmark on your hip. Don’t all friends?

Your stomach stumbles and you get up, tripping to get to your small bedroom before Steve sees the tears. You and him had a small budget apartment shopping, but it was yours, and that’s what mattered.

You’re grateful when Steve seemingly doesn’t follow, though he stands behind the door petrified. He’s the reason you’re hiding away, he’s the reason he can hear racketing sobs, and he doesn’t know what he did.

He thinks for a moment, that you must know what he’s been thinking lately.

—

Stay while in your slumber, tumble under, and never wake.

Family video is cold without you.

Steve doesn’t think there was ever a Family Video shift he didn’t work with you, and your vanishment has completely left him an absence of a boy.

Not that you quit or anything drastic like that.

Called in sick, is what Robin had said, and when Steve didn’t believe her, he’d had no choice but to tell the nosy girl what had happened the night before.

She’d sympathized with him like a good friend should, but that didn’t mean she agreed with him. She sometimes wish he had more interesting drama. He’d make a better coworker best friend.

“I mean, how do you think she feels, Steve?”

They sit on the floor of Family video behind the counter. Besides the establishment being empty of you, it was also devoid of customers, like your light drew them in. And they weren’t going to stand a ten hour shift if they hadn’t needed to.

His attention catches, looking up from the boxes Robin hands him to snap shut and throw in a crate. “What?”

She, unlike Steve, doesn’t look up, focused on the repetitious task of opening movie boxes, and stamping their return. “She’s your best friend of, what, 15 years?”

He doesn’t understand where she’s getting at, eyebrows scrunched in pure confusion. So what? “What does that have to do with this?”

Robin heaves a sigh, letting the stamp clunk down onto the hardwood loudly. If she notices Steve cringe, she makes no attempt to apologize. “I’m sure it gets tiring watching you go on date after date.”

“I do not go on ‘date after date.’” His pointed glare fails to cut through Robin.

“How many boyfriends has she had, Steve?”

On a normal day these questions would be tolerated. Today, they are not. “I don’t see what you’re getting at, Robin.”

She sighs again, more exasperated than before. His heart trips meanly at his friend being frustrated with him. “It hurts her feelings, Steve.” His head turns, Robin marches on. “I mean, she’s the only constant girl in your life, besides me, and you haven’t made a move!”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” His head shakes. “I just don’t want to lose her.”

“Did you want to lose me when you told me you loved me in the Starcourt toilets?”

Won't you tell her that you love her? And you'll hug her, most every day.

“I did not tell you I loved you.” His eyes roll. “Besides, I tell her I love her.”

Robin nods encouragingly. “That’s great, but is it the same way you told me you loved me?”

Steve loves Robin. It’s a deep twisting love that Steve is not ashamed to admit to anyone who asks, but even he knows that’s not the same love he holds for you. It’s different. Your his person. He feels a little sick.

“I think you should see sense, Steve.” Robin shrugs.

His hand runs over his eyes. “Thanks, Robs.”

“You’re welcome.” She chirps. “I just miss her here is all.”

Steve let’s his first smile of the day slip. “Is all.” He mimics

She laughs louder than him. “Shut up and finish your pile, you’re slowing me down.”

—

Walk a while in her summer, she is the drummer, of your beating heart.

Summer days are so much better when your best friend isn’t acting weird.

Weird is harsh.

The sun beating down heavily, your warm foggy head lays in Robins lap. Her fingers work through your hair, untangling tiny knots your brush didn’t glide through this morning. It’s nice. You breathe through your nose softly.

“Getting sleepy?” Robin murmurs, quiet in contrast to the shrieks of happy teenagers fifty feet away.

“No,” you huff, adjusting comfortably on her thigh, “just bored.”

“Hear that.” She nods, though only Steve can see. They’d wanted an outside day, wanted to skate and run and work themselves in the heat of the sun. Who was Steve to say no to that?

The blanket a languid tangle of teenage young adult limbs, he stares at the notable gap between your thigh and his. It’s raging and wide as the Mississippi River. He can’t stand it.

“What’s for dinner?” Robin asks into the air, but you know it’s not directed towards you.

“I don’t know,” Steve yanks a blade of grass from the ground. It’s soft between his fingers as his thumb glides against the smooth surface. He chucks it at Robin. “Ask the children’s mothers.”

She sniffs out as it hits her nose, he grimaces as she gently pulls it from where it’s landed in your hair. “Come on, you’re not gonna feed them?”

“What kind of dad are you, Steve?” You murmur into Robin’s thigh, tickling her softly.

He watches you, eyes still closed, reach out and flick his knee. It’s the first time you’ve directly touched him this entire evening. It sets off something awful in his chest.

“I mean- shit you know we gotta pay the electric,” His head shakes. “Can’t exactly afford Happy Meals for six.”

You sigh, ignoring Robin’s displeased mumble as you sit up. “I already paid electric, Steve.”

He doesn’t understand, tugging the brim of his cap down confusedly. Love will keep us together, it reads. Robin teased him for it, but he knew it was your favorite. “But we usually split that?”

“Just wanted to get ahead of things,” you shrug, not quite making eye contact. “figured you’d have some extra money for things like this.”

He hates the sincerity in your voice, eyeing your fingers as they tug the hem of his shorts absentmindedly. “You didn’t have to do that, babe.”

You shrug again, dropping your head back into Robin’s warm lap. “Wanted to.”

His head thumps with heat, or longing. He can’t tell them apart, covering his cool eyes from the heat of the sun with his hat. If it helps, he’ll know which the problem was.

Lucas is the first one to come running hungry. His nimble fingers punch a yellow straw into his capri sun, sucking greedily. Robin swats his hand when it overflows onto sticky fingers, mumbling something about the blanket. He doesn’t mind, tossing it into the grass.

“I’m hungry.”

“Hi, hungry.” You smile, though you don’t look up from your resting spot. Robin snorts at the unfunny joke, Steve cringes.

“Is she okay?”

“Just warm.” You nod, peeking at him. His visor covers the run from his eyes protectively, your eyes glint in a tease you won’t let slip. “We’re getting food soon.”

“Food?” Max drops to the blanket, kicking Lucas in the ribs softly, teasingly.

“We’re getting Happy Meals.” You affirm, reaching up to pull her thick red hair from her sweaty neck. Mike displeases.

“We’re not kids anymore.”

“You love the apple slices.” Wills elbow knocks Mikes.

“I could go for a Happy Meal.” Dustin disagrees with Mike. Max hums something of an agreement.

“Dollar menu.” Steve corrects, fighting off the petulant whines of 16 year olds in his ears. He’ll be buying you something pretty.

—

Don't you try to push or shove her, Find another, Or she'll walk away

The days following slow Steve down. Mentally and physically.

He doesn’t want to get up for work, doesn’t want to be ignored by you, to get a small smile for something that usually gets him your shining laugh.

You paid the electric in full so he could pocket some cash. He’d called the company that night to double check.

Not that he didn’t trust the veracious words from your mouth, it just startled him. You didn’t have to do that. You shouldn’t have done that. You’re a team, teams talk about these things.

He can’t help but feel that he’s the reason you haven’t talked to him.

You go grocery shopping and he could be sick. You buy for the both of you. Your fruit, his protein powder. Your snacks, your snacks x2 so Steve can share without feeling guilty. It’s a low punch to the gut.

It kills him that you do these things. These little things that splay your love embarrassingly on a table. You remember he doesn’t like Dawn dish soap and get Meyers instead. What is love if not attention? He doesn’t deserve it.

So he makes it up to you.

He does the dishes while your away, cleans the kitchen and stocks your coffee pods when they run low. Tiny acts he hopes won’t go unnoticed by you.

Though, this new act is not so tiny.

Creasing in the palm of his hand, the rough material of a tote bag handle squeezes. It’s warm, and slightly wet, from the warmth of his nervous hand. Is this too much? He’d got the prettiest bunch there, wrapping it in brown crinkle paper, cause no girl wants flowers in plastic Nancy had told him once.

He’s grateful to the teenage memory of her. A mental note to thank her.

Standing in front of your closed wood door, he can hear the loud music of the vinyl Robin had gotten you for Christmas last year. A thoughtful present, really, though you had to buy a record player to use it. You’d made Steve promise to never tell her, accepting the gift in a warm hug. She’d seemed really pleased.

“She's a woman in a dream, one that makes you fall in love”

He knocks, low enough to play it off if you don’t hear. But you do, of course you do.

There’s a soft shuffle. A click and a sputter of a record player dying down, a bed being situation on, and then a “Yes?”

He breathes out, turning the knob. It’s cold, and the gold paint chips off every so often, but it’s in your apartment that you and Steve pay for with your grown up jobs. If you could call family video that.

He can’t make himself walk in, leaving against the doorframe anxiously with his arms over his chest. It was supposed to be natural with you, you were his person. So why’d this feel so awful.

“I got you something.” He chokes out.

“You did?” Your eyes peak down at the brown paper crinkling out the tote bag. The sight of Steve Harrington with a tote bag. Where is your Polaroid?

Padding into your room cautiously, he pulls the flowers out gently. They’re rough around the edges, you can’t deny. Cleaned and snipped, you can see the spots he hadn’t meant to knick, and the way the paper dents in places it shouldn’t. “Still your favorite?” He hands them to you, still so gently.

“Yes,” you whisper, shocked beyond repair. “And the brown paper.”

“Eh,” he scratches his neck sheepishly. “Nance once told me girls didn’t like plastic wrapped flowers. I hope it’s not too fancy schmancy”

“I love any flowers.” Your honest voice mumbles. He almost doesn’t hear you as you look up to him. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” He nods. He opens his mouth to say something, closing it silently. Your amused smile rings around his head.

“Yes?”

His fingers twitch. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You choke a swallow. “What are you talking about?”

“The dates.”

“The dates?” The space between your eyebrows crease like the paper in your hands. “Those never made me uncomfortable.”

“I just-“ He breathes out, dejected. “Never?”

Your brain sputters. “Did you want them to?”

“No?” He panics. “No, no!” His head shakes furiously. “Just, Robin said-“

He’s cut off by your loud laugh. “That was your first mistake.”

His head cocks.

“Taking advice from her.” You give with a shrug. He coughs, startled.

“Yeah,” he nods, serious, definite. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I mean, I love her, but this is the girl that had a crush on a Nashville wannabe for three years.”

He huffs a laugh that’s not all there. “Still don’t see what she saw in her.” His head shakes.

You squint, his dejected limpness detected quickly by your roaming eyes. “A voice only a mother could love.” You beg a laugh from him.

His shoulder shakes and his eyes flick to the posters covering the off white of your walls.

“Ok,” he breathes, patting his hip. “well I’ll get out of your hair.” He nods to himself. “Just wanted to give those to you.”

“Thank you, Stevie.”

The nickname pinches him and it hurts. He nods to you this time. “Anytime, bug.”

Ouch.

Crestfallen as a kicked puppy, he heads for the door. The sight stomps your heart.

Your weak voice stops him. “They never made me uncomfortable, but maybe a little jealous?”

He turns. “What?”

“I mean-“ your head tilts to the side, slowly shrugging. “It wasn’t fun hearing about Cass,”

“Carrie.”

“Carrie, and the other girls.” You pause. “Even if you never gave me the details.”

You tread a line of no return. Steve kicks you forward.

“But jealous?” He whispers.

You shrug, sheepish. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Your esophagus closes, no longer letting you swallow without a fight. That hurt. “Yeah,” you repeat. “Oh.”

The silence is deafening. Wow, you think.

You bring your fingers up to scrub tired eyes. They burn from your lack of sleep and the tears that threaten to front. “Maybe let’s just forget this?” Your shoulders deflate and he hates the crack in the end of the sentence.

“What?”

“Your ‘oh’ said a lot,” you breathe out self consciously. “So let’s just drop it before we can’t take back our words.”

Before we can’t take back our words.

“But I want that.” Steve frowns. “I want to not take it back.” He’s scared of tightness in his chest.

You pause. “Oh.”

He smiles. “Yeah,” he copies you. “Oh.”

It’s quiet after that. The whirring fan above you clicking with each turn. What do you say to that? This boy, the object of your affection for god knows how long, reciprocates your love.

“Wow.”

He laughs, his eyes squinting. “Right?”

“What wouldn’t you be able to take back?” You push lightly, daring a look at him. His hair mussed, his shirt wrinkled, you know he’s lost as much sleep over this as you.

“That-“ he starts slowly “That I’ve been into you since I was 14.”

You sit in quiet apprehension. The corners of his mouth ache from the smile he can’t wipe away.

“That I date to find a girl who compares to you,” His head tilts. “and they don’t.”

“We’re so stupid.”

“Just a little.” He grabs your arms gently and pulls you up to stand under him. The way he looks down at you kills the butterflies in your stomach and replaces them with something stronger. He tucks hair behind your ear, admiring. “You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever met, even when I don’t deserve it.”

You paw at his chest. “Stop.” You murmur.

He shakes his head. “You tolerate me to an extent I don’t understand, but I’m grateful.”

“I don’t tolerate you, idiot.” Your lips bend down. “I like you.”

He agrees quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment with his insecurity. “You know, before I talked to Robin I thought you were upset because you could read my mind?”

Your head shakes, amusedly disbelieved. “I take back what i said earlier, going to Robin for advice was amazing.”

“Shut up,” he pushes you back without letting go. “I thought you were hearing how much I wanted to kiss you.”

Your nose scrunches. “That’s so silly.”

“So silly.” He agrees, swaying you forward and backwards. “Is it silly that I want to kiss you now?”

“No,” you whisper. “I already knew that,” your face is stony faux seriousness. “I read your mind.”

He snorts, bending down to press his lips to your own. It’s soft and slow. His lips are smooth and if you didn’t know him like you do, you wouldn’t know he’s been using aquaphor since he was 18.

He pulls back gently and kisses you again quicker. “You’re so soft.” His fingers itch to slide from your waist and pull you in by your belt loops.

“Your chapstick.” You murmur, dazed.

“That shit is $9,” You know his annoyance isn’t real. “I need you to write me a check for what you owe me.”

“Can I pay you back in kisses?”

He pauses. “One kiss is .50 cents.” His eyes close, dramatizing his seriousness. “I need 18 kisses on the lips now.”

On the lips. You laugh at his wording. “I think we can make that work.”

She is what our love is made of.

#stranger things 4 #steve harrington angst #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem! reader #Steve x reader #steve harrington x you

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wileys-russo · 1 year

Note

blurb request: here me out right. Less begs you to go on a couples holiday with Beth and Viv and Ella and Joe at first you’re apprehensive because you only know ella, barely know joe and beth and haven’t even spoken to Viv. You’re quite a shy person when it comes to meeting new people but once you know them then that’s when you break out of your shell, Less finds it adorable, she assures you that everything will be fine and that everyone loves you, you agree to go on the holiday. you get there and everything’s fine, Less accidentally booked everyone an anniversary room even though it’s no one’s anniversary, so the room is all romantic for them and you couldn’t help but kiss alessia’s lips when her face looks so angelic in the light of the sunset, you all meet up for dinner and you’re say talking to viv and joe and that’s when you realise that everything’s gonna be okay. (and ella films it laughing at how “all the Wags are getting along”)

decided to add in leah and jordan because i miss them dearly

wag club II a.russo

"baby please say yes i promise you it'll be really fun." alessia begged trying her hardest to convince you as you glanced to her uncertainly, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.

"less i hardly know them i mean i know ella of course and i've met joe a few times, but the others-" you shook your head nervously, alessia staring back at you with a small pout from where she sat at the counter watching you cook.

"-the others really want to meet you, its why beth suggested a little holiday in the first place! and its a great opportunity for me to spend a little bit of time with leah and beth to talk about you know what." your both shared a look at her last few words, alessia having been open with you from the very start about looking into other clubs during transfer season.

you'd been by her side throughout everything that had gone down behind closed doors the last few months at united, and if alessia was honest she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to get through it without your unwavering support.

"alessia-" you began with a hesitant sigh, words falling short as her hoodie clad arms wrapped around you, pulling your back into her front as her chin rested on your shoulder.

"i know you're shy around new people and although its adorable you can't go through life just avoiding it." alessia mumbled into your shoulder, placing a tender kiss to your exposed collarbone.

"i am not shy! i just get cautious about what people think of me and the first impression i give off and then i overthink and close off a little." you defended with a frown, feeling the blonde wrapped around you smile into your neck as you moved the soup off the heat.

"you're shy and it's cute, but you don't need to be nervous they'll love you to bits just like everyone else whose ever had the pleasure to know you. i think the girls are just being extra supportive because you're the first real partner i've had since they've known me." alessia explained softly as her hands intertwined with yours and you messed around with the rings on her slender fingers.

"first real partner? okay miss independent." you turned around to face her, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck with a teasing smile. "very funny. soo.." alessia trailed off suggestively, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"okay!" you gave in with a defeated exhale, alessia's face lighting up at the simple word. "you'll come then?" alessia pushed her body further into yours, lips curled into a beaming grin as your stomach fluttered, adoring nothing more than seeing the italian so sincerely happy.

"of course, how could i ever say no to you." you chuckled, pecking her lips a few times. "true, silly of you to even try." the striker winked as you playfully shoved her away, grabbing out some bowls and dishing up dinner.

"its gonna be great and everyone will love you, i promise!"

and sure enough, of course alessia had been correct.

day one had gotten off to a rocky start and the first few hours had been uncomfortable to say the least. you hadn't said much when the others tried to engage you in conversation, and really only made an effort to speak with ella having known her as long as you'd known alessia.

though with a gentle push from your girlfriend, and some well timed excuses for her and ella to leave you alone with the group, you'd eventually mustered up some confidence and began to feel a little more at ease.

it had been an added bonus that alessia had accidentally booked everyone anniversary suites, misunderstanding the spanish translation for the rooms when she was planning everything.

you were sat on the floor finishing your makeup as alessia sat outside on the balcony sipping on a glass of wine, already ready to shortly join the rest of your group for dinner.

the afternoon bordering on dusk the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, the shift in light meaning that it shone a deep rich orange, bathing everything it touched in a radiant golden glow.

this had forever been your favorite time of day, you could sit in silence forever watching the sky slowly turn from a radiant cobalt blue to a soft cotton candy pink, the clouds a symphony of red and yellow around it.

your heart swooned as you glanced back to your girlfriend who had tilted her head back with her eyes closed, welcoming the tender touch of the late afternoon as is golden rays struck her face.

quickly on your feet your lover cracked one eye open hearing your footsteps approaching, opening her arms without a moments hesitation. feeling them wrap tightly around you, you leant your head on her shoulder, the two of you bathed in the gentle warmth of the fast fading sun.

you pressed a sweet lingering kiss to the blondes lips hugging her even tighter, the two of you unable to be any closer to one another unless you cut her open and climbed inside.

"i love you." alessia murmured as the two of you split, you repeated back her words without a single beat passing, the two of you staying there wrapped up in the cocoon of one anothers love for as long as you could.

admittedly the last ones to arrive to dinner not that either of you minded, you happily took the teasings from the group which followed.

by night two alessia was beaming with pride watching on as you cracked jokes and teased her friends which you were now happy to call your own, clearly out of your shell and carrying on as if you'd known them for years.

it had surprised both alessia and beth to see how much you and viv seemed to click, the two of you seemingly glued to one anothers side always engaged in some sort of passionate conversation, having quite a few common interests.

"you've got yourself a good one here less." leah smiled sincerely, leaning back in her chair as beth nodded along encouragingly, the three of them having stepped away for a more private chat at alessia's request.

"yeah she's absolutely lovely less, though you might need to be careful viv doesn't whisk her away. i've not seen her so enamored with anyone except maybe mccabe!" beth grinned, taking a sip from her drink as alessia hummed, too engrossed in staring at you like a lovesick puppy as her national team mates shared an amused look.

"so, have you spoken to anyone else about what you're thinking?" leah gently nudged the italian with her knee, returning her attention to their previous conversation. "just my family really, no one from united." alessia smiled sadly, the thought of having to have those conversations making her physically recoil.

"and..." beth nodded over to you, cocking an eyebrow curiously. "yeah she's been really supportive. i don't think i'd have been able to get through all of this without her, she's even said she'd make the move to wherever i end up." alessia smiled softly, watching as you threw your head back at something jordan said, you and viv clearly laughing at the poor girl rather than with her as jordan gestured her hands around defensively with a frown.

"really? just like that?" leah asked in surprise, alessia nodding and turning back toward the two blondes. "she works remotely so it doesn't really matter where she is, her families in manchester but that's...complicated." alessia hesitated at the sore subject, knowing you'd not want her talking about it as she quickly changed topic, resuming her questioning about arsenals program.

wrapping up their chat as to not arise any suspicions they returned to the group right as ella appeared having dipped off to the toilet. jordan and joe were busy in a heated debate about which of the mens teams they tipped to win the league this year, yourself and viv engaged deep into a conversation about astrology, alessias heart warmed to see you so comfortable.

"well well well look at all the wags getting along then!" ella teased loudly, filming the four of you as joe flipped her off and jordan scoffed. "viv and i play football thanks very much tooney!" she defended as leah sat down beside her, kissing her cheek with a grin and whispering something in her ear which seemed to appease the wound up midfielder as she fell quiet.

"if it means i need to do the cooking and the cleaning then i am already the wag in the relationship, beth does nothing!" viv quipped bluntly as the group errupted into laughter and beth argued the point with an offended frown.

"what about you then? happy to be a wag?" alessia slid in beside you, stealing a kiss and a sip of your drink. "if it means being your number one fan forever then sign me up." you grinned, a little tipsy as alessias face softened and she practically melted into a puddle right then and there.

"gag!" ella chimed in with a fake retch at your answer, you quick to point out that since joe also played it really made her the wag. the shorter girls face flushing red she began to argue your point passionately as you leant into alessia with a satisfied smug smile at how much the comment got under the brunettes skin.

it would seem that your unofficial wag club had officially been born.

#woso x reader #woso #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs

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sacklerscumrag · 1 month

Text

Sunshine (Part 1/2)

single dad!Clyde Logan x nanny!reader

1 of 2

Notes: Hi! I know I haven't written for the ADCU in some time but i have this dad!clyde brainrot and i might as well post it. part 2 is 90% done so I’ll post that sometime soon

I miss being here & I hope everyone is doing well, sending all of you lots of love & thank you for taking time out of your day to read my silly little stories, i appreciate you <3

Warnings: protective girl dad!Clyde, talk about kids, mention of abandonment issues, mother not involved (and will not appear at any point), no mention of y/n, fluff, pining, pervy thoughts from sasquatch, eventual smut in second part (tags will be added), no cliffhanger

Word Count: 7.1K

(this will go back & forth between Clyde's POV & readers POV)

The bar was filled with scattered conversations and the faint sound of jukebox music lingering in the background. It was an otherwise quiet Thursday night at Duck Tape. Clyde busied himself as usual, topping off the regulars and ensuring everyone was settled and satisfied. The calm before the storm, at least until the real crowd rushed in to watch the Friday night game. Being the only bar in a small town meant there was little else to do around here. Clyde never seemed to mind, though; catching familiar faces day in and day out was one of his favorite parts of owning Duck Tape in the first place. Regulars usually required minimal conversation, which was right up Clyde's alley. The most words anyone got out of him other than his siblings was Earl, but he didn't mind. Clyde quickly finished his last prep of the day and glanced around the bar, taking advantage of the slow pace and stepping away into the recluse of his office. He huffed as he shut the door behind him and sank into his lanky chair; a never-ending sea of papers he'd been dodging surrounded him on the worn-out wooden desk. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of another long day. Taking over the bar a couple of years ago definitely tested his limits. He loved it here, but it strained the already little energy he had left to go on about his day. So much had changed in Clyde's life in the past few years alone. From becoming a father to being the new proud owner of Duck Tape due to the Heist, plus there was-. The Heist, the words halted his train of thought as memories came and went.

The biggest risk any of them had taken in their life landed all three Logans with more financial security than they knew what to do with; plus, if anything was going to convince Clyde that the Logan family curse was finally broken, it sure as hell was how swiftly they had gotten away with all of it. But none of that really mattered. Sure, it was more than nice not to think about how he would pay off the next bill or where his next meal would come from, but he couldn't help but look around and feel like something was missing. Maybe someone to share it with woulda been nice, he thought to himself. Jimmy had Sylvia, Mellie had Joe, and well, he had his Sunshine. He mentally kicked himself at the apparent self-doubt clouding his mind; Clyde had more than enough to be grateful for. But a small part of him couldn't help but yearn.

It's not like Clyde was a stranger when it came to love. Sure, it's not something he thinks he's ever experienced, but he was sure he saw it with Jimmy and Sylvia. What they had was enough to convince him there was something more out there. Clyde just wasn't entirely sure he deserved whatever that was. He would live the rest of his life longing for something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and that's just another obstacle in his life he had come to terms with.

Clyde's train of thought quickly faded when he heard the office door click open behind him, making him turn in his chair. Dark, luscious curls crawled their way onto his lap, and small arms stretched around his waist. The discomfort from a long workday quickly melted away as giggles filled his ears. Mellie trailed into the office, following a giggling Lyla, who had already captured her dad in an embrace.

Clyde took a moment to tussle Lyla's hair slightly, making her giggle even louder. The way she fit into his lap took him back to a time when she was nothing but a wailing newborn cradled in his arms while the uncertainty of being thrown into fatherhood haunted him. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. It was not like his head was in the right place either, with the too-embarassing-to-admit heartbreak, confusion, and, no doubt, fear consuming him. A one-night stand he was sure he'd never hear from again turned into a small note tied with a pink ribbon to a baby carrier on his doorstep nine months or so later. He was young, dumb, and with no time to process any of it, but before he knew it, there she was. All big brown eyes and grabby hands, looking back at him like he hung the moon, and from that moment on, Clyde knew his life would change forever.

"Hey, Sunshine." Clyde drawled, and Lyla smiled while babbling to him about her day with her favorite aunt. Mellie smiled at the sight of her eager niece, sparing no detail of their girl's day spent at the salon.

"You good if I head on out?" Mellie said as soon as Lyla let her get a word in.

"Yeah, was jus' finishin' up here n' headin' home."

"Alright. Don't stay too late now. Night, you two." Lyla wrapped herself around Mellie's legs in a tight hug before saying her goodnight and reluctantly seeing her out the door.

"Ready to go, Sunshine?" Lyla nodded towards her dad and practically sprinted toward the front door. Something told him Mellie let her niece have more sugar before bed than he would usually allow, and something else told him he would be the one to pay for it later.

------------

As the busier weeks of the year followed with football season being at its peak, Clyde had just about had it. Another night at Duck Tape dragged on, minutes feeling like hours. Clyde was nearing his limit between the higher volume of patrons than usual and being understaffed with just two servers on the floor for the third night in a row. He hadn't even realized what time it was. And it wasn't just tonight; everything was starting to blur together as of late—never-ending odd hours at the bar in between quality time playing whatever princess Lyla was currently obsessing over, all while making sure he was always home just in time to read a bedtime story and tuck her into bed. Clyde was losing it. It's not like he thought things would get easier as Lyla got older, but damn, he could use a break.

And he sure as hell wasn't comfortable leaving Lyla in any sort of childcare yet, so help came from the people he loved the most. Mellie was always around to spend time with her niece, taking Lyla to the salon whenever possible, while Jimmy and Sylvia were happy to step in when they could. Clyde knew how lucky he was, having his family rally around him and step up whenever he needed them. He never did like to impose his troubles on them, knowing they had their own lives to take care of. Always making sure he was on time to pick Lyla up straight after work and spending his days off with her, attending endless tea parties along with movie nights where every stuffed animal she could fit would join them on the couch beside them in the small trailer they shared.

Clyde found himself overwhelmed by the daily chaos more often than he'd like to admit. But the truth is, he had grown to depend on her just as much as she did on him. Her smiles brightened even his darkest days. Listening to Lyla talk about the things she loves, whispering 'I love you, and snuggling before bed every night kept him going no matter how exhausted he was. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

But late at night, when Lyla was finally asleep and the world was a little quieter, Clyde's thoughts always seemed to be a little louder. It was the only time when he didn't have to have all the answers or act like everything wasn't weighing on him as heavily as it was, where not a single person depended on or needed something from him. Nothing else to do but sink into the couch, crack his favorite beer open, and drift off to sleep, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

"C'mon Clyde. A couple drinks with ya favorite brother, plus ya can use the night out. Syl's got her." Jimmy insisted, breaking Clyde out of his haze. Clyde huffed; the poor guy just wanted his brother to let off some steam, and he understood that. He was thankful his brother always looked out for him in his own way, but he couldn't give in. Not again. He winced slightly at the memory of the last time he indulged in a reckless drunk night out and how it ended with Lyla on his doorstep. Not that he regrets any of it, of course. He'd do it again a million times if it meant ending up with Lyla every time. But there was no denying the exhaustion that plagued him since that day. Long days and sometimes nights at the bar, followed by a never-ending list of chores, along with a more than needy kiddo constantly yanking at his leg, awaited him at home.

" 'S alright. 'M jus' stressed, been workin' nonstop, jus' wanna get home to Sunshine." Clyde put on a strained smile as he wiped down the bar top for the night. He couldn't bring himself to justify spending any of his spare time away from his girl. Having his family watch Lyla was always more of a necessity; how could he ask more of them? Just so he could kick back a few beers and feel like shit about it tomorrow? No, thank you, Clyde thought to himself. Jimmy let up as their attention was drawn away toward the door, chiming as Mellie sauntered into Duck Tape and scurried right up to the bar beside her brother.

"Guess what?" Mellies shoots Clyde a knowing smirk while bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"What?" Clyde managed to keep his tone steady, reluctantly ready to hear whatever Mellie was plotting after having to fight Jimmy off for the last hour about him 'loosenin' up,' whatever the hell that meant.

"I found ya a babysitter for the summer. Or is a nanny that ya needed? Oh well, whatever it is, I found her." She pulls out one of the bar stools and takes a seat. Clyde sets down the rag and takes a deep breath before looking back at Mellie, silently urging her to continue. "An' before ya say anythin', she's a real close friend; met her a couple years back at the salon, and she just moved back into town; she'd be perfect for this."

"Takin care of Lyla isn't something for one of your little friends, Mel." Clyde didn't mean to sound so condescending. Especially when his little sister was only trying to make his life easier, but he couldn't help himself. With the amount of time this person would spend with his daughter, Clyde needed someone he could trust. He prided himself in always wanting what was best for his Sunshine; her care was no exception.

"C'mon Clyde. Ya need the help, and she's a good one, I swear. Great with kids, and you can trust her." He sighed. "Just meet her before you make any decisions...please?" Clyde knew there was no talking Mellie out of anything, especially when her mind was made up like this. Plus, if he was being honest with himself, he was desperate. He didn't trust many people where Lylas was concerned, and that made the picking for her nanny or even a babysitter slim to none in this small town. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed this. And if Mellie trusted her, well, that would have to be good enough for him. For now.

"Fine. I'll meet her. When were ya thinkin'?" Mellie beamed a smile at him before checking her phone as a text message came through.

"Is now a good time?" Clyde's dazed look only amused Mellie further as she turned to the front door. "There she is!" Mellie hollered toward you, waving so you'd join them.

Clyde's eyes felt like they were damn near ready to fall right out of his head. If the word 'trouble' had a picture next to it in the dictionary, he was sure it'd look a lot like you, all dolled up in jeans that looked like they'd been drawn on and worn-down cowboy boots as you confidently strutted your way toward him. All bright eyes and delicious curves taking up all of his attention and then some. Clyde's grip tightened, practically digging his fingernails painfully into his palm. He couldn't remember the last time he reacted so strongly to someone. Pretty girls strolling in and out of Duck Tape were a rarity; he never bothered to give them a second look, let alone a first one. A hazy introduction later, you extended your hand towards him, and he swore he could feel lightning crackle through his veins at the warmth of your palm, immediately kicking himself for being so affected by you so quickly. Get it together, asshole, he told himself. This was going to be a long night.

---------

Mellie embraced you warmly and dragged you toward the two men staring daggers at you from the bar. It felt odd when she texted you out of the blue to meet her and the parent of the child you might or might not be taking care of this summer at some bar, but you didn't question it. Mellie always came with surprises. You happily greeted Jimmy, recalling the second Logan and his little girl from when you visited Mel's salon while he was fixing up the place last summer. In the short time you spent in this small town, the Logans always had their own way of making you feel right at home.

"Hi." You introduced yourself to the man behind the bar top, trying not to let his stern gaze affect you. His broad shoulders and handsome face made your breath hitch from the moment you first saw him. And if he kept looking at you like he was, you weren't sure your knees wouldn't buckle on the spot.

"Clyde, this is my friend I was tellin' ya about." Mellie cautiously glared at her seemingly rigid brother before looking back at you. "This is my brother, Clyde, Lyla's dad." You offered him a warm smile and extended a hand toward him. Clyde stiffened further, eyes darting between you; his large palm engulfed yours.

"Hm. Nice to meet ya." He offered you a tight smile and briefly shook your hand, practically snatching it away. Your skin suddenly missed his warmth, but you shook away the slight disappointment at his apparent disinterest.

"Clyde, don't be rude. Sorry, he's not a real people person." Mellie scolded him and turned toward you. "So ya still interested in that babysittin' gig? Lord knows my brother here could use the help." Clyde's eyes shot up and glared at Mellie, silently wishing the ground would swallow him whole so he could be spared the embarrassment his little sister was already putting him through.

"I don't know. Is it still available?" You glanced at Clyde teasingly, hoping to ease whatever tension had manifested between the three of you in the last five minutes.

"Yes. No." Clyde scrambled to gather his thoughts before continuing. "It is I just...I'd like to see ya spend time with her first. See how ya are with her n all that.'' He sighed. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go. He was supposed to find a nanny, get through the summer, and life could go on like it had been. Instead, he felt so flustered that he couldn't even string a simple sentence together if his life depended on it.

"I can come over sometime this week to spend some time with her. If it doesn't feel like a good fit for you, you have no obligation to hire me." You made sure to sneak in that last part before he could change his mind. Clyde nodded towards you appreciatingly.

"How's tomorrow afternoon? Round 1? I can drop her off after my shift." Mellie chimed in before Clyde could stumble over any more of his words.

"Tomorrow it is, then." You nodded and received a barely there smile from the grumpy bartender. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

-----

The next day arrived much faster than Clyde realized. He typically looked forward to his mornings off, sharing a big plate of burnt bacon with Lyla while sprawling on the couch watching morning cartoons. Instead, he spent most of his morning distracted. Even when Lyla rambled about what was playing on the television, Clyde's mind wandered back to you. It's not like he'd gotten much sleep either, with the thought of seeing you again running through is mind late at night. What was supposed to be a quick shower ended with Clyde's hand gripping his cock, images of you pressed up against him, droplets of water streaming down your breasts as he drove into you and pressed his warm body on yours. It wasn't long before he felt himself spill on his hand, and harsh reality set in. Clyde hated himself over it. He was going to be your employer, for fucks sake. He'd barely met you for more than ten minutes, and already he was over here pining and touching himself like some hormone-crazed teenager with a crush. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Mellie swung by to pick Lyla up, promising her another one of their girls' days at the salon. Lyla quickly got ready, and after seeing her out the door and waving the two off, Clyde managed to peel himself off the couch and headed over to the bar.

From there, the morning dragged like no other. Clyde spent most of it sitting in his office, trying not to think about the fact that you'd walk through those doors any second. He always found it easy to throw himself into work, put everything else aside, and focus on what needed to get done. But every time he tried, there you were. There was no way he'd be able to do this. Spending more time with you? If he felt this out of control after one day, how would he be able to be any sort of normal around you all summer? He couldn't; he had to end this today. You would understand; Mellie said this job wasn't all that serious for you anyway. You could go back to wherever you came from, and he could finally get something done without thinking about how your hand felt on his last night. Or how badly he wanted to trace the soft skin on your collarbone or how your smile warmed his heart with a familiarity he somehow already craved.

Clyde didn't get too far into his bar prep when the doors to Duck Tape swung open. Lylas skipped inside, Mellie following closely behind her. She stumbled while trying to climb one of the bar stools, making Clyde exit the bar quickly and taking her in his arms.

"Gon' hurt ya self there, Sunshine." Lyla giggled, the bar stool wobbling underneath her before Clyde set her on the ground. Just as Mellie said her goodbyes and headed out, the door opened, but this time, Clyde could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.

-------

Your morning had been nothing short of hectic after changing your outfit an endless amount of times. Not to mention spilling coffee on your shirt once you'd managed to settle on something. You quickly shoved that aside and mustered whatever courage you had left to head over to the bar. A short drive later, you walked into Duck Tape at precisely one o'clock to find Clyde standing beside an adorable little girl looking up at him with a guilty look on her face.

"Now I know Aunt Mellie gave ya candy at the salon; that's enough for today, sunshine." Lyla pouted slightly as you listened in. Clyde said a quick hi and crouched beside her when he noticed you standing there. Lyla wrapped herself around her dad's legs when she spotted you.

"Lyla, this is Aunt Mellie's friend. The one I told ya about." Clyde waited cautiously for his daughter's response. As you knelt on the floor in front of the pair, you were met with wild chestnut curls and doe-brown eyes on the cutest kid you've ever seen.

"Nice to meet you, Lyla." The little girl retracted shyly into her dad's embrace. Your eyes landed on the coloring book and plastic crayon box she cradled in her hands. "That's a nice princess coloring book you got there. Rapunzel is my favorite, ya know."

"Rapuzel's my favorite too." Lyla mumbled, chocolate button eyes hesitantly landing on you.

"No way! Her dress has both of my favorite colors, purple and pink."

"Those are mine too! Daddy got me a 'punzel dress, and he lets me wear it all the time when we have tea parties 'n stuff." You could've sworn Clyde's cheeks flushed slightly like the doting dad you could already see he was.

"I bet he does." You smiled over at Clyde. Thinking about this large man playing pretend princess and having tea parties with his daughter had your heart swirling with emotions you were sure shouldn't be there in the first place. You didn't know why that warmed your heart the way it did, but you brushed it off as you offered to color with her, and Lyla practically dragged you toward the back of the bar.

The next hour was spent with the both of you huddled in a corner booth while Clyde kept busy around the bar. You talked endlessly about her extensive knowledge of every single princess, colored a couple of pages, and even earned a few giggles.

Clyde wiped down the bar for what he was sure was the millionth time. There was minimal on the to-do list for today, but he would busy himself here as long as it took if it meant keeping an eye on you two. It's not like you needed it; he didn't need to be there to know you were hitting it off with Lyla. The chatter had been nonstop since you sat at the booth; you engaged seamlessly with her. Listening intently to every word while keeping her entertained. He noticed his daughter was just as entranced with you as he was. This was a good thing, wasn't it? He had to admit he miscalculated your ability in all of this when you first met. Clyde felt terrible about how closed off he'd been last night. Here you were, all bright-eyed and ready to help, and there he was, the usual grey cloud raining on everybody's parade the first chance he got. At least, that's how he assumed everyone saw him.

Clyde was refilling some bottles from the bar when Jimmy called, letting him know he was outside. He signaled over to Lyla, who was beyond excited to spend the rest of her day with her uncle and cousin Sadie. You helped her gather her things before Jimmy took Lyla in his arms. One "Bye, Daddy!" and a wave from Clyde later, and it was just the two of you in the ample bar space.

"So how'd I do, bossman?" you asked as Clyde stepped out from behind the bar. His large frame coming into full view was enough to make a girl swoon on the spot. You attempted to reign in whatever self-control you could gather, well enough to take a step toward him without feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. Clyde remained silent for a moment before you felt the need to speak.

"Look, I know it must be hard to just trust a stranger with all this. And I know I'm not the most qualified person out there. But I'm a hard worker and punctual; playing princesses and tea parties happens to be my specialty. Plus, I can make anything into a game." You could've sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on Clyde's handsome face.

"She seems to like you." Warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment. Lyla was a smart kid and funny, too. You knew it would be hard not to fall in love with the little rascal from the moment you met.

"Well, I like her too, so that's a plus." Clyde felt his entire body tense up at your newfound proximity. From here, he could see the flush of your lips and the captivating color in your eyes, like two pools he would happily drown in. Your warm smile drew him in until he found himself needing to be closer to you than what was deemed appropriate. And to hear you talking so sweetly about his sunshine? His heart felt like it could burst out of his chest, but he quickly compelled that away to unpack another day.

"Can ya start tomorrow? I have a late shift bein' a sports night n all." Clyde attempted to shake his thoughts away. He had to try at least to pretend like he hadn't spent the better part of his shift taking longing glances at you, admiring the way your white tee and jeans fit your curves in a way that made sure he'd have to walk around with a semi and adjust his pants for the rest of the day.

"Sure thing. Your place?" Clyde nods and gives you a time and address.

--------

The next several weeks were filled with endless princess gatherings, storytelling from faraway lands, coloring for hours on end, and whatever adventure Lyla would conjure up that day. She warmed up to you almost instantly; things were going great. Better than great, sometimes, you had to question if this was really your job with how much fun you were having. Lyla was witty, smart, and had an imagination to be envied. She seemed so free and unapologetically herself in the best way. You could tell she had been raised with an unconditional love any kid could only dream of. It wasn't like the occasional meltdown didn't take place from time to time, being a toddler and all. But you always find a way to bring that smile back to Lyla's face.

Things with Clyde hadn't simmered down in the slightest. Every interaction, every glance, every accidental touch had your yearning growing. Every moment spent together allowed you to quietly admire something new about him. The way his chest filled out those t-shirts he often wore, his hair that begged to have your fingers tangled in it, or even how he pursed his lips in that way that had your core clenching whenever he spoke. Not to mention, seeing him with Lyla made your knees weak. This gentle giant's soft demeanor melted your heart while twisting your insides in the most delicious way. Still, Lyla kept you more than busy; otherwise, you'd spend your days daydreaming about Clyde Logan. Today was no different. Building forts and baking cookies had been the first thing on the itinerary, and knowing Lyla, there was always more to come. When she'd finally fallen asleep watching Cinderella on the couch, you carefully tucked her into her bed and quietly exited the room, shutting the door just as Clyde entered the trailer.

"Hey." You whispered as Clyde set down his stuff and went to the kitchen. "I just put her to bed."

"Thanks. Sorry, 'M late. Bar kept gettin' crazy n' I just couldn't get away. It's-" You cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him tense under you.

"Clyde, it's okay. That's what I'm here for, remember?" You winked at him before walking toward the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes. Clyde headed to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Your cheeks warmed, watching him lean over with one sturdy arm on the fridge door, the muscles on his back rippling under the worn-down t-shirt while the two bottles fit snuggly in his large hand. Get it together, you told yourself, forcing your gaze away.

"Beer?" Clyde gestured toward you. "I was jus' gonna have one on the porch." The words tumbled from his mouth without realizing. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. You looked all comfortable, your books and blanket on his couch, standing here in his kitchen, in his home, moving around like you belonged there. But Clyde wasn't stupid; his head was definitely playing tricks on him. There wasn't a universe that existed where a woman as beautiful as you would be interested in a guy like him, and he understood that. Now the only problem was keeping his heart and dick in check long enough to be professional.

The night sky was decorated with stars against the black abyss, quiet and still. Just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. Clyde followed you outside, shutting the door quietly. You sat beside him, legs folded comfortably in the porch chairs as he handed you a cold beer.

"So, how was everythin'?" He said before taking a swig of his beer, the soft rumble of his voice activating those darn butterflies in your stomach already.

"Great. Pretty sure she tried on every princess dress in her closet and saw Frozen at least ten times. We danced, sang, and even built a fort." You found yourself smiling at the memory of Lyla with a mismatched dress and crown belting 'Let It Go' with you while jumping around her room. "Same old, same old."

"Mhm." Clyde relaxed further into his seat. The more time you spent with him, the more apparent it became that he was a man of few words. Still, you appreciated the ones he was willing to share with you.

"It was a good day; it always is." You noticed Clyde stretched his left arm before him as if irritated by it.

"Mind if I take this off?" The words tumbled out before Clyde could stop them, the beer loosening his tongue. Clyde wasn't sure why he suddenly felt comfortable enough around you to remove his prosthesis. He was pretty sure the people closest to him hadn't even seen him without it. Although it shouldn't surprise him, his sense of ease around you only grew within the last couple of weeks.

"Go ahead." Clyde hesitated for a second, then carefully removed his prosthetic, massaging the tender spot. Your eyes scanned the newly exposed skin. "Does it hurt?" Clyde paused his movement and huffed. You cleared your throat, the day's exhaustion clearly eliminating whatever filter you had left. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-forget I said anything."

"'S alright. Served two tours n' ended with this. 'N no, not really, not all the time, at least. Jus' bothers having this thing on all day." You nodded, understanding it was something still difficult for him to talk about.

"You don't have to ask, you know? To take it off. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for no reason." Clyde smiled while nursing his beer. When he looked over, he found your eyes tracing the scars left behind on his arm. Clyde reached for his sleeve, suddenly feeling the need to cover up, before you placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. "Is this okay?" Clyde gulped and gave a slight nod. He wasn't sure if it was the exposed flesh or how vulnerable this whole thing felt, but he swore he could feel every nerve on his body light up under your touch. Your fingers lightly outlined the scar for a moment before you smiled at him, settled back into your chair, and sipped your beer.

"Mellie dropped by today, and I meant to ask you if I should know of anyone coming by to see Lyla other than your siblings. Friends maybe? Her mom?" You snuck in that last part before you could stop yourself; the last thing you wanted to do was overstep. But you were curious. Lyla never mentioned her, and you didn't notice any pictures of her around the house. Was she a good mom? Was she pretty? She had to be to be Lyla's mom. Did she still hang around? Would she like you hanging around? Maybe she wouldn't want you getting all close to Clyde. Hush that is none of your business, you told yourself.

"Lyla's mom isn't in the picture. Never was. She jus' about dropped Lyla at my doorstep 'n we never heard from her again. Didn't want nothin' to do with her or me, said so in the letter she left." His words spliced across your heart, and tears welled in your eyes for the little girl sleeping soundly inside. Just thinking about someone walking away from an angel like that with such carelessness had you wanting to find this woman with your fist immediately.

"So, you two never?" Clyde shook his head almost as if you'd insulted him.

"It was a one-time thing. A drunken night full of bad choices, 'N then she disappeared. Popped back up again with Lyla, and that was it. Letters last I heard from her." Clyde said. "Not that I wanted her to come back. I don't. We've been jus' fine just us two."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

-----------

The following Sunday morning came with blue skies and warm summer air. Clyde insisted you'd take Sundays for yourself, although you weren't sure why. It's not like you had any other friends around here besides Mel, not to mention a social life being out of the question. When you weren't with Lyla, plans usually consisted of staying at home with a good book and getting chores done. You were gathering your things to lay out in the sun for a bit when Mellie called about being overbooked at the salon and Clyde having an emergency at the bar and asked if you could watch Lyla for the day. A few minutes later, you managed to put together an easy picnic basket, threw a shirt and shorts over your bathing suit, and headed out the door.

A short drive and only two knocks on the trailer later, Lyla ran out, wrapping both arms around your legs in a tight hug. She quickly pulled you inside to find Clyde sitting on the couch with cartoons playing faintly in the background.

"Hi." The morning rasp in his voice had your chest tightening and face flushing. He wore a faded t-shirt and simple dark gray sweats that you had to fight not to stare at. "I tried callin'. Ya didn't have to come, everythin's been takin care of."

"Oh. My phone must still be on do not disturb from last night or something. I was gonna take Lyla to the lake for a picnic and maybe a swim." Lyla's face immediately perked up as she squealed excitedly.

"I'm gonna go get my swimsuit on!" She yelled as she tried to run off into the hall before Clyde stopped her.

"Now, sunshine, today's her day off."

"What's that mean?" Lyla's disappointment grew along with the pout on her face.

"Means she's got stuff to do, stuff she's gotta get done today. She'll be back tomorrow, hm?" Lyla reluctantly nodded as Clyde placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Well," you interjected, unsure if it was your place to say something, but there was no way you could stand by and disappoint Lyla like this, especially when spending your days with her had become your favorite thing to do. "If it's okay with your dad, I'd love some company. I can't eat all these PB&J's and snacks I packed alone now, can I?" Lyla looked toward Clyde. A mix of 'please' and 'please, daddy' flooded Clyde's ears before reluctantly giving in to his daughter's whim. Lyla sprinted toward her room to change, mumbling something about showing her water tricks, making you chuckle.

"You're welcome to join us. I packed plenty of food, and it's too nice of a day out to stay inside." Clyde contemplated for a moment. Just the thought of seeing you prancing around in the water in a skin-tight bathing suit had his pants tightening uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he could control himself. But he had the day off and sure as hell didn't want to spend it without his Sunshine. Plus, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the two of you alone by the creek in the woods. It would be safer if he went with you. At least that's what he told himself as he agreed and slipped away to change into his water shorts.

The drive over to the creek went a little faster than usual, thanks to you and Lyla singing along to some of her favorite songs. Clyde spent the entire ride concealing a smirk at the sight of both of you breaking into song and then into a fit of giggles once one of you would get the words mixed up. Once you'd arrived, Clyde wasted no time unloading the truck and helping a restless Lyla get out of her seat. You found the perfect shady spot to set up the blanket and laid out some things from the picnic basket; once satisfied, you set your shorts and shirt to the side and settled in. Lyla wasted no time hitting the water, barely letting you slather some sunscreen before sprinting off with her floatie. You sat by the shore with your book, watching her splash around. The cool water around your legs is a nice relief from the sun's warmth on your skin. Clyde sat back against the tree, keeping his eyes on the two of you. He couldn't help but imagine if this was what it would be like—having someone by his side sharing moments like these with Lyla.

The afternoon passed far too quickly. A blur of splashes and fits of laughter ended with a sleepy Lyla slung on her dad's shoulders as you packed everything back into the truck and headed out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the fleeting colors of dusk began to fade away. Only the rumble of the truck and crickets chirping surrounded by the night sky remained. Lyla's soft snores could be heard from behind as you glanced over at Clyde. The soft moonlight reflected off his skin, hair still slightly damp from the creek. His eyes were trained on the road ahead, but you could tell something was on his mind as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

You sat comfortably on the passenger seat, your thigh dangerously close to his hand resting on the gear. His fingers itched to reach over, wondering how soft your flesh would feel under his touch. No matter how hard it was to keep a calm facade, he couldn't help but recall the silky skin over your bathing suit top, curves he would kill to trace every inch of it with his tongue teasing him from every angle. Even the way your teeth caught on your lip in the most sinful way was driving him insane. Everything about today was driving him insane. Not to mention watching you with his Sunshine. How you'd dramatically play along to every scenario Lyla created until you were nothing but a fit of giggles, watching in awe as you smothered her in hugs and kisses every time she'd swim into your arms. His sunshine was an affectionate girl, don't get him wrong. But she sure as hell didn't open up easily to strangers, yet here you were, winning her over from day one. Clyde shook away the ache in his heart at the thought as he redirected his attention back to the road.

A short while later, you'd arrived back at Clyde's. He hopped out of the car just after you did, carrying a passed-out Lyla in his arms into the house. You stayed outside, wondering if you should wait for him to return or count your losses and hurry home. Before you could make up your mind, Clyde appeared and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving the two of you uncomfortably close on his front porch.

"Thank ya for today." The faulty lamp above you did little against the night.

"It's no problem," you said before a silence fell between you. The dim light accentuated his nose and the plumpness of his lips in the most beautiful way. His eyes drifted up to yours as you took a tentative step toward him. Your heart began to pound, chests nearly pressed against one another, feeling a familiar desire spread in your core. Clyde's breathing grew heavier, suddenly aching to get you closer.

Just as the longing became unbearable, he closed the gap between your mouths, first with the utmost gentleness, then with the hunger of a starved man. You made a delicious little sound and responded with the same fervor, sparking a fire in his belly. He didn't want it to stop. The warmth of his mouth had you melting into him. Your lips parted slightly as his hand came up loosely at the side of your neck, holding you close.

"Daddy!" Lyla's distant voice rang in your ears. Clyde pulled away suddenly; a rush of frigid air replaced the warmth where his body was pressed up against you. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over the two of you, snapping you back into your harsh reality. Lyla began to cry from what was probably a nightmare. Clyde sighed as he looked toward the front door and back to you. You cleared your throat and wrapped your sweatshirt tighter around, unable to look him in the eye after he'd practically kissed you dizzy.

"I should go. Goodnight, Clyde." You offered him a warm smile and dashed to your car before he could say anything else. Clyde stood with his head slightly hung, ensuring you were safely in the driver's seat before heading inside. You lowered the windows in an attempt to let the humid summer night air free from inside, hoping a little fresh air would snap you out of whatever trance Clyde had just put you under. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you ran your fingers along your lips, the ghost of his kiss still buzzing through you on the drive home.

#clyde logan #logan lucky #adam driver #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x fem!reader #clyde logan fic #smut #fic #adam driver fic #adam driver smut #clyde logan smut #single!dad fic #kylo ren #star wars #fanfic

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keeponquinning · 1 year

Text

You guys are horrible enablers. I love you for that. @quinnsmunson , @choke-me-eddie , @quinnypixie , @live-love-be-unique, @stardancerluv , @feralgeek99 , @harley1608 , @hiscrimsonangel , @etherealglimmer , @hellfiremunsonn

WARNINGS — 18+ for SMUT. P in V, oral ( m receiving ), neck biting, cursing, RPF in general ( don't like it, scroll by or block me i guess?? ), fingering, dirty talk??, slight breeding kink if you squint, but overall smutty and fluffy. no use y/n, baby is used a lot???

What was supposed to be a small little drabble turned into THIS. Hope you all enjoy this!

word count — 9.4k

graphic by @quinnsmunson !!

Joseph Quinn x female reader

"Why are you not acting normal? Just show it to me already, like, you said it was a good shoot, right?"

"Yes, that's not....." He let out a sigh, "Fuck. I dunno. I'm just....very oddly self conscious all of a sudden." Fiddling with his phone, fingers tapping against it and pacing around the room. "I... I think it's good? But, well, maybe just biased, I dunno. I'm just struck with this almost unnatural desire for you to like it and I'm worried you won't and....my ego will take a hit and...fuck, that's a lot of run on sentences, but.... Yeah, not sure I'd recover from it."

You arched a brow, taking in the words, and of the nervous energy just seeping out of him. "Recover from...me possibly not liking it?"

"Yeah. Insane, isn't it?"

"Well, I mean... Yeah," you responded with a soft smile. "Fucking ridiculous, actually. It's you. Of course I'm gonna like it. Now... Just give me your phone, let me see. Then you won't be nervous and you’ll be normal again."

Joe seemed to relax a bit at that, knowing you were right, he was being silly about the whole thing. Taking a deep breath and handing you his phone, watching as you took it and tapped to play the video. His nerves coming back, the music playing, the queer sound of his own voice introducing himself. It was odd, even now, licking his lips as he watched you, well, watching him.

There was a small smile on your face, seeing your boyfriend on screen, all dressed in purple, a favorite color of yours, the sound of his voice from his phone, the softness endearing, almost soothing. Your smile widened, the little drum solo with the flowers in his hands, not knowing if it was part of the script but it felt so very him. Your brows rose, the video progressing, destroying the bed, the pillows, the—oh god. Your brows are rising higher. Oh, g o d, his neck. You didn't look up at him, instead, played the video again. And again. And again. "Jesus," you let out, dropping the phone onto the bed, looking up at him, to the phone, to him again. ".....good god."

"What? What? What do you—oh god, do you not like it? Oh, don't tell me that, was it cringy? It was, wasn't it? Fucking hell..."

But you shook your head, "Nope, no, not, not cringy, not..." You took a deep breath, looking up at him, eyes raking over him, the video playing over in your head now. Your eyes falling on his neck. "...It's um... I need you to take off your pants."

He burst into a laugh, chocolate colored eyes widened, his face colored in amusement and confusion. "I'm sorry—what?"

"I..." you started, letting out a laugh. "I just... Um... I'm dating a fucking model." He laughed at that, with his whole body, which made you laugh in return. "No, I'm serious! Like... I mean...that video like..... Baby, you're a fucking model! I... That's... Oh my god, do you know how beautiful you are?"

"Oh fuck off—"

"No! No! You fuck off!" you retorted. "That... Dare to be chill, like, oh, fuck you! Fuck you with that! Telling people to chill and then looking like that?! Baby! My love! No one is gonna fucking chill after seeing you like that!"

You're both laughing now, the pair of you, that ball of nerves completely gone from his system, falling into bed with you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His heart feels light, everything does, really, when he's with you. An anchor from the madness around him, preventing him from drifting aimlessly. He held you close, and you wrapped your arms around him, legs entangling together as well. "Fuck, I love you," he muttered before kissing the side of your neck. "You promise you're not just saying that?"

"Oh my god, you models are so needy," you teased, moving on top, draping your body against his, gripping his shoulders as you smile down at him. "Always with the constant need of validation."

He hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair, moving it from your face, letting him see more of you. "You knew what you were getting into. Can't be easy having this pretty face. Gotta put the work in if you want bragging rights."

You chuckled, "Good thing I'm a hard working girl," you uttered before slowly bringing your lips to his in a kiss. Soft. Warm. Starting in gentle little pecks, lips brushing against each other before they pressed on each other more. His fingers tightened along your hair, a soft groan as lips parted and the warmth of your tongues met, a hunger between you both. Tasting one another greedily, humming softly. "I wasn't bullshitting you..." you uttered between kisses. "You looked so great, baby... Hot... Sexy... Beautiful. So god damn beautiful, drives me crazy..."

He groaned at that, one hand remaining in your hair while the other roamed down your back, gripping your bum and pressed the hard bulge of his cock against you, "The feeling's very fucking mutual, darling..."

"Fuck..." your voice a hushed whisper, feeling him, sending a shiver to run though you, an ache forming between your legs, growing wet and needy. "Not fair... The man telling people to chill is so quick to lose his..."

A soft huff of a laugh escaped him, smiling against your jaw. "Yeah, well... Rather difficult when you're calling me beautiful and such. Gets to a guy's head, makes it swell up."

"Yeah, I'm feeling that against my thigh really well..." You slid off him slightly however, taking a moment to take him in, the version of him in the video lingering in your head as your fingers trail down his body, his shirt riding up, showing off his stomach, the happy trail that certainly made you happy every time you saw it. But you brush past it, right to the bulge straining against his jeans. Your smile widened, trailing over it, hearing his quickened breath and the soft whine from his throat. If you weren't listening for it, you would have missed it, but you loved that little whine of his. Spreading your palm over it and give a gentle squeeze.

He tilted his head back against the pillow, the soft whine a little louder this time, the squeeze a shock to his system. A surge of pleasure running through him, making his cock twitch underneath your hand. "Jesus..." Your eyes weren't on his aroused bulge, however, but at his face—no, his neck. You raised your lips toward it, and he let out a satisfied sigh at the feel of you, of your mouth brushing against the skin. Your hand rubbing against him, slow and steady, you could feel how his breath quickened, from his chest as it rose and fell. Though you felt it with your lips at his neck, as he swallowed hard, a soft little groan as your hand continued rubbing against him.

"You know what I noticed while watching you?" you asked, looking up to meet his eyes, darkened, almost black, his jaw clenched, a brow raised. "Your neck..."

The smile on his face widened, as did his eyes, a laugh wanting to escape but, fuck, he didn't want to stop you. "My neck?" he simply asked, licking his lips at the thought of your mouth on his neck, the bites, the marks, made him feel hot inside. Cock twitch under your hand, his mind going hazy. "Really?"

You smiled, fingers playing with the button of his jeans, an expert in unbuttoning it with a flick of your fingers as you bent down to give a soft, fluttering kiss along the side of his neck. "You have....a really slutty yet beautiful neck, Joseph Quinn... For Dior..." Both snorting at your words, but it died quickly, with amorous intent, his neck and the things you wanted to do to it filling your mind. Letting your lips linger, your tongue gliding along the skin, hot breath escaping as you find his pulse. Feeling it quicken with your actions, his hand gripping the back of your neck. Fingers entangling themselves in your hair as you suck and bite against a particular spot that...as you pull down the zipper of his jeans, your hand sliding inside and you can feel him more better. He's hard, even through his boxers, he's hard, making you squeeze your thighs together. Still needy, still wet, but as your teeth sink into his flesh with a harder bite and he groans, you set that fact aside.

"Fucking Christ..." he muttered under his breath, the sting of your bite claiming his entire body. Shooting straight to his cock, throbbing against your moving hand. His body helpless but to move against your hand, heart beating fast, hissing at your teeth, catching the flesh of his neck, tugging it, making him growl. "Shit... Love..." His free hand goes to the curve of your bum, squeezing it tightly. You let out a soft sigh, making him shiver, your hot breath fanned against the slick flesh. You moved in, though, sucking where you bit him and your hand on his cock stilled. That made him frustrated, moving, grinding against the stilled hand. A move of desperation, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Moving blindly as he closed his eyes, leaving no mercy on his neck, feeling himself start to sweat. "You're gonna....shit...you're gonna leave a mark, darling..."

"Mmm..." you hummed, the wet sounds of your mouth hitting the air, groaning softly as you sucked steadily, the feel of his pulse so defined, so clear and so quickened against your tongue. "Good," you muttered against him, teeth scraping against him, feeling him shudder. "Want everyone to see, baby..."

A soft huff escaped him, his fingers in your hair tightened as he pulled you from his neck. The sight of your lips slick with spit, swollen slightly, it thrilled him, leaning his head to press against yours, breathing deep. "...want everyone to see I'm yours?" You nodded, and he grinned, fingers scratching at your scalp. "...I am yours..." he uttered, and now it was his breath, hot with the light scent of the cigarette he had not too long ago, fanning against your lips. The desire to kiss him floods you instantly, his dark brown eyes on your lips, having the same desire rise up in him. His words soft, "I'm so fucking yours."

Your smile was warm, lips capturing his in a kiss, soft and sweet. A complete contradiction of what your body wanted. But it came out, as you felt Joseph kiss you back, deep and probing, his tongue, god, his tongue... His grip on your hair tightened, pain coming from the action but a moan escaped you, and he swallowed the sweet sound. "Let me..." you started, panting against his lips. "Let me prove it..." He seemed hesitant, though drawn to you, always so damn drawn to you. You smiled softly, giving a gentle kiss along his jaw. "Please, baby?"

The flash of his teeth was shown in his wide grin, letting his head fall back in defeat. "God, I hate how much I fucking love when you call me baby like that..." He chuckled, shaking his head, "It's so adorable. I can't say no." Though he should, he had a photoshoot in the morning, a smug little smile crossing his features. "You're going to give the makeup department hard work trying to cover your handiwork, love..."

"And you'll be grinning away, because secretly, you love it." You heard him hum as your lips went back to his neck, continuing their work. You could feel the slight vibrations as he moaned, a shiver running through you both. "You like how possessive I can be, don't you, baby? How much I want to show the world you're mine?" Your question punctuated with a bite — harsh and unforgiving, feeling him tense and shiver because of it.

"Fuck, yes... I do, I fucking love it..." He pulled on your hair tighter, a soft moan of your own fanning against his neck, he swallowed hard, felt the throb of his cock. "Do your fucking worst, please..."

There was no need to entice you more, your attention to his neck immediate. The feel of vibrations as his moans came one after another with each drag of your teeth against his skin made the wetness between your legs grow. You can't help it, the sound of him moaning was just so pretty, as well as the sound of his panting breath. The way his body tensed then shook, your tongue lapping against the feel of his pulse that steadily grew quicker, moving to bite his skin fully. Teeth catching a bit of skin, letting out a soft growl as you tugged and pulled, feeling his chest rise and fall as you did it. "Jesus fucking Christ..." his words, under his breath and slightly slurred. You weren't the only one getting drunk off this, truly getting intoxicated by each other.

Hands moved, away from your hair, your bum and toward his jeans. Pushing them down, groaning, letting out a soft whimper. You were making him needy and needed to feel you against his throbbing cock. "Love, please..." He pleaded, and you could feel him swallow, body tensing up, the tension of a rubber band about to snap. You hummed softly, sucking along his flesh. There was a flavor to him, something mixed with sweat, something you couldn't get enough of. He was right, you were going to give those poor girls more work while he sat in the makeup chair... But the thought gave you joy. "Baby... Baby, please..." came his needy whine, your saliva coating his neck at this point, kissing your way to his jaw, eyes meeting him as you smiled. Licking your palm, you made it nice and wet before going to his cock, this time not up for teasing him. The sound of his relieved sigh made you smile.

You love his cock, the way it throbs and pulse within your grasp. Making you squeeze your thighs for the littlest bit of relief. Your hand moving slowly from base to tip, his soft groans making your heart feel light, your eyes catching his neck, the faint markings making their presence known against his skin. You smirked at that, feeling powerful, especially as he started to buck his hips against your hand, essentially fucking himself against it. Your thumb brushing along his tip with a chuckle, moving to kiss his lips gently. "This what you needed, baby?"

"God, yes," he let out with a soft laugh, darkened brown eyes looking at you. A louder laugh coming out, the flash of his teeth in a grin. "Oh, you love making me so desperate for you, don't you?"

You couldn't deny it, not with your smile spreading wide as it did, your hand moving a bit firmer, letting out a soft hum. "It is one of my greatest joys, yeah," teasing him with a chuckle, which he returned with a smile. You took a moment, as this was quite the moment. Stroking his cock, feeling powerful as he looked at you with such darkened eyes... A breath released from you, capturing his lips with a kiss. Soft. Warm. You feel him kiss you back. Hungry. Hot. Wet as tongues meet and you tasted each other, feeling him groan, felt the vibrations of it cascade over you. Filling you with a shiver, shocks of arousal hitting you within your cunt, feeling your body start to heat up and a moan of your own pressed into his mouth. The kiss broke, and you were left with a panting breath and closed eyes, heads pressed together and you felt his hands in your hair. Opening your eyes, you swallowed hard, watching him look at you with that pure look of desire and lust. "You're beautiful, you know?"

He smiled lazily, a soft laugh falling from those smiling lips. "That's...very sweet. No, that's...the sweetest thing I've ever heard from someone stroking my cock so well."

"I'm serious," you say, chuckling, pecking at his lips. "You're really...fucking...beautiful... I'm sorry if I didn't say that before... I always thought so, you know, those big brown chocolate eyes and smile..." He chuckled, making you grin, not sure if he's convinced but it felt good to say. "I'm always floored by it... Seeing you in the Gris Dior video just sort of...put it out in full. Joseph... You honestly take my breath away... Every time..."

If he didn't believe you before, he certainly believed you now. His darkened eyes softened, cupping your face with his warm, rough, big hands, thumbs trailing your cheeks. You were making him feel sentimental, taking a deep breath and exhaling shakily. He felt a warmth that wasn't there before, his confidence in himself, while not dwindling before, certainly gained a bit of a boost. His smile widened, his heart beating against his chest a little stronger, shaking his head. "Then you know how I feel... Waking up and looking at you. I'm really fucking lucky. You mean so much and in...such a short fucking time... Thank you. Not... Not just for the words, though, those were fucking amazing," he chuckled as did you. "But for... For everything. Just...everything."

He kissed you then, and while the previous was filled with lust, and, okay, this kiss had a fair bit of that as well, there was something else. Adoration. Love. His teeth finding your lip and biting it, a soft groan pulled from you before you pulled away from his ivory grip and eyes went to his. "Lay down," you said, and his brows rose. As if in question, but also...knowing exactly what you were going to do. "I've never sucked off a model before... And while I've had your cock in my mouth plenty of times... Never as a model."

God, the excitement that filled him, his cock twitching already in your grasp. "...have I told you I love you?"

You gave him a smirk, kissing his lips with a moan. "You'll be telling me that a couple more times before I'm done with you." And he didn't doubt it, not one second as your kisses continued downward. You did away with his shirt, knowing it probably cost more than your wardrobe combined but tossing it to the ground anyway. Leaving his chest exposed, lips dragging across the flesh, when you got to his stomach, you couldn't help but bite him there. Earning a hiss and a groan from him, while you kissed, licked and tugged on the skin. You love his stomach, more than just for the happy trail, sometimes Joseph would be so self conscious about it, only alleviated by your love of it. Your tender care as you gave gentle nips, turning to less than gentle bites, kissing and squeezing with your hands. Hoping to mark him there as well. Every action he gave a soft little sound, whether an exhale or moan, you earned it, before lifting your eyes to his face looking at you, eyes dark, teeth biting his lip.

You know what he wants, because you want it, too.

With one last tug of his skin, you move lower down his body, between his legs, sitting up a moment to lift your shirt over your head, no bra underneath, causing his cock to twitch once again. His eyes on your breasts, licking his lips. You're beautiful to him, you said he was, but in his eyes... There was no one, not one thing, to match you. He had half a mind to ravage you then and there, but it was as if you could sense it and placed your hands at his hips, with that smile. That wicked smile that got him hard within seconds if you were out together. He gave a resigning smile, laying back, watching as you did away with his jeans, leaving him bare, his cock yours for the taking.

His cock always felt so perfect in your hand, though more than a handful, the girth of him always just a bit towards the intimidating side. Your thumb caressing the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock, and he let out a soft groan, watching as you lowered your lips and ran your tongue from his base, slowly, teasingly towards the swollen head of his cock. "Fuck..." you heard him utter, meeting his eyes as you swirled along his tip, squeezing him gently at his base. There was that flavor to him, that was just so...him. Indescribable but utterly intoxicating. Addicting, as your tongue swiped across his tip, bringing out a shuddering breath from his lips. "Jesus... Love..."

But when you bring your lips to wrap around the tip of his cock, that's when he loses all comprehension. "Oh, God..." When all he can feel is how warm and wet your mouth is, claiming his cock, inch my inch. The vibrations of your moans, the feel of him in your mouth, on his tongue, a pleasant one. The mere thought of that blows his mind a bit. His hand reaching for the back of your head, fingers in your hair as he lets out a hiss, as you're sucking on the tip of him. You could taste the small traces of his pre-cum, spilling on your tongue, just a small taste, a small preview of what you wanted. He's holding onto you tight, his eyes heavily lidded, watching as you lower down, it always surprises him how much of his cock you can take into your sweet mouth... More than most had, more willing than his past girlfriends though they may as well not exist as he rolled his eyes back, feeling the tip of him hit the back of your throat like that. "Oh, that's good... Oh fuck that's good... Jesus."

Every word fills you with pride, making you want to do your best in pleasing him. It was more for you than him, you'll admit. He just... God, he felt so good, making you moan as you take him deep, tightening your mouth around him as you bob your head up and down, hitting the back of your throat. Each time testing your gag reflex, sometimes you do, causing your eyes to water and mouth water. Spit and drool dripping down his length, but the way he panted, muttering your name, it made you squeeze your thighs, slightly rubbing against the mattress. You were wet, heated, needing attention yourself but, again, his cock felt so good.

"God, you're driving me fuckin' insane, baby... Fuck..." He could let you suck his cock for hours, and truthfully, you would. It amazed him how much you loved doing it, then again, he'd do the same to your sweet cunt. "You're my perfect girl, aren't you?" he hissed, closing his eyes, "...god, my perfect, sweet girl... Taking me so... Jesus Christ, you feel so good..." You both feel how pleased his cock is, pulsing, twitching inside your mouth, taking him in and out, over and over until he can't help but start to buck his hips against you. His fingers in your hair pull, keeping you steady as he fucked your mouth like the crazed animal you made him into with your perfect mouth. Making you moan, eyes looking at his face, as he tilted his head back, wanton moans leaving his lips, freely, without abandon, filling your mouth deep. Lost in the way you made him feel.

He looked even more beautiful than before.

Joseph could have easily filled your mouth with a load of his cum, so easily shot down your throat and he knew you would have swallowed so eagerly... But with a growl, he pulled you from his cock, his breath panting, watching with darkened eyes as your lips were swollen and cheeks flushed, wet with tears and spit. "Come here..." he uttered, bringing you toward him, grasping and cupping your face as you two so eagerly kissed. Rolling his tongue into yours, tasting himself off you, both of you moaning, his hands moving down your body, grasping your breasts, pinching your tits a bit, earning a soft cry into his mouth. "You sound so perfect, every god damn sound..." he muttered against your lips, you both sharing a laugh. His hands moving to your hips, gripping them firmly before he rolls you to your back with a soft gasp. Pressing his lips further against your own, moaning into your mouth. Hot and heated, much like he was, you as well.

Your head was swimming, filled with lust with every wet, probing kiss, every roll and feel of his tongue. Every touch he gave onto your skin felt like fire, electricity shooting straight to your core, silently begging for his touch. And he does, because when you're with him like this, it's as if you two share the same mind, his lips kissing yours and his hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers at the waistband of your bottoms, putting to light that of the two, you still had far too many clothes on. A shared grin between you, as his eyes bore into you as he pulled shorts and panties off you, lifting your hips to help him. His eyes flickered from your face to between your legs as your bottoms were tossed away, discarded much like the rest of his clothes.

The smile on his lips smug as you spread your legs for him, and he let out a soft hiss as his hand slid up your thigh, to your slick, wet cunt. Taking in a deep breath, he shook his head in awe. "Fucking hell..." he breathed out, biting his lip as he looked to your face, no hint of a blush, or any sign of embarrassment, just an almost proud smile and that was enough to make him smile. "I've got such a filthy girl, don't I?" he muttered before capturing your lips in a kiss, "Such a pretty," he said between kisses, going to your neck with a groan. "Filthy fucking girl..." Biting into your neck, making you let out a soft cry, the roughness of his fingertips at your clit, rubbing softly.

"Oh, fuck," you let out, the touch of his fingers sending such pleasant waves through your body, not to mention the harsh bites to your neck. Letting out a soft laugh, "Is this payback?"

He smirked, teeth tugging, sucking against your skin. "Just wanna match... If you claim me, I claim you. Just how it works, love." Giving you no time to really accept it, though your smile clearly showed it, his teeth busied themselves, biting into the flesh of your neck. The warmth of his tongue making you pant and moan, your hands gripping his shoulders, his fingers on your clit driving you insane. Normally he would have buried his head between your legs, licked you until you came on his tongue, tasting you for hours... But something about this time made him impatient, and he sensed you felt the same. You were already so wet... Teasing you, tasting you, making you cum first was a need if he had wanted to fill you with his cock. Thicker than your previous boyfriends — something that elated him to no end — but this time, there wasn't quite a need for it. You were ready, and as he sucked at your pulse, he wondered why, and suddenly, it hit him.

You wondered why he chuckled suddenly, hotly against your neck. "God, you're funny," he let out, his voice soft, husky against you. "You're fucking adorable."

Brows furrowed, in the middle of you being hot and bothered, he'd made you confused and you weren't sure if you appreciated that or not. "What're you... I mean... I am, but what are you talk—" And then you felt them, two of his thick fingers sliding inside you. "Fuck..." you breathed, your grip on his shoulders tightened as he bit you harder on your neck, growling, slowly burying those two fingers knuckle deep, curving them just slightly, caressing that spot, that easily sent a shock wave through you, trembling softly and your hand to reach to the back of his neck, just to hold him. "Baby... Baby, right there," though you didn't need to tell him, fingers already pulling in and out of her tight, wet cunt, hitting that perfect spot each time, drawing out a soft moan. "God, yes, that feels so... Shit."

Fuck, he loved the feel of you. Whether with his tongue, fingers, though yes, especially his cock, no matter how much he stretches you with each fuck, you always go back to feeling so tight around him. He could feel that now, the way your walls clench around him, squeezing him and yet moving so fluidly, so easily in and out of your perfect cunt. "You're so fuckin' wet, darling... So fuckin' perfect already... God, you're so ready for me, aren't you, angel? Don't even need a warm up, you’re so ready for my cock." You gave a whimper, you couldn't deny it, he could feel it after all, hear it as he went a little faster, a little harder, making your legs spread further. Making you pant and moan, his cock twitching in the anticipation of having you wrapped around it. Biting your shoulder, affectionately, his eyes like dark fire, kissing his way to your lips, biting them, looking into your eyes. "My darling girl's really that eager to fuck a model, hm? Or have a model fuck her with his hard, fat cock?"

"I..." You closed your eyes, your body involuntarily squirming underneath him, his thumb rubbing against your clit, working with his other fingers as they stilled, deep inside you, rubbing against that part of you, making you lose each thought out of your head, drawing you deeper and closer to that edge already. Him and his hands... Why did he have to be so good with his hands? "Joe..." you said in a whine, feeling absolutely in his mercy. And his fingers. Fuck, his fingers. "Joseph.... I... Yes... Oh my god, yes.. Please...? It feels... Fuck...."

"Should I be jealous?" He asked, his other hand cradling your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips, slipping between them. "You've never been this wet so fast before you saw this video of me... Do you want a model, instead?"

A groan leaves your lips, though you don't fail to miss the opportunity to take his thumb, biting it lightly before giving it a good suck, eyes melting into his. Watched as he slid it tentatively in and out of your mouth, against your tongue. His fingers in your pussy quickened, making your eyes hazy, squirming underneath him so pathetically. He knew how to touch you, entice you, since the first time you fucked, he was a quick study on your body, a thrill shooting through his body at every moan that left your parted lips. Thumb leaving your mouth, tracing along your lips as he pulled his two fingers from your cunt, sliding to your clit. "Baby..." you let out before a sharp moan with the quickened motions he made on your clit. Causing your hips to twitch, jerk toward them. "Oh, god. Jesus..." You looked so pretty to him, hearing him let out a growl, nipping and biting at your neck as you tilted your head back. "Fuck. Fuck.." His fingers are soft but rough at the same time. You felt like silk underneath his fingertips, his tongue licking over your pulse, sucking deep soon enough. "Oh, fuck, I want you..."

He let out a hum, mirroring your previous actions, biting into the flesh of your neck and tugged on it. Though he did it a bit harder, a sharp pain traveled through you, making him feel the pulse of your clit against his fingers. Kissing tenderly towards your ear, his panting breath felt, making you shiver. "You want to fuck a model, my darling girl? An actor isn't good enough, is it? No, this greedy cunt wants—"

"No," you let out with a soft laugh, prompting him to lift his face from the crook of your neck, chocolate brown eyes staring down at you, confusion clear on his face. "The only model I wanna fuck is you. Only actor I wanna fuck is you. You're the complete fucking package, Joseph. Yeah... I got soaked faster than usual..." You smile, looking over his face. "But only because seeing you in that video? Turned me on. Wanted to suck your cock... Wanna be filled by you... Because you, Joseph Quinn, for Gris Dior..." He snorted at that, though smiled, wide and warm. "You're amazingly hot," you grin as he kisses your lips gently, "...sexy..." another kiss. "Beautiful...everything I want and... I really want you to be inside me right now..."

The way he groaned, biting your bottom lip. "Fuck. There you go again, making my head swell up so much, my darling..." The way he called you that... While affectionate, there was a bit of something else. Of desire, of lust, emitted in a deep rooted growl that made you shudder, yet your eyes were on his, barely registering his hand grasping his cock, at his base, moving until his swollen tip meets against your slick folds. Your wetness coating it, his eyes softening as he let out a soft breath. "Fuck, I love how wet you get for me..." You let out a soft whine, both hands grabbing at the back of his neck, as he teased the head of his cock along the entirety of your pussy. "I know, darling, I know... Be patient, let me just..." He closed his eyes, you writhing beneath him. Groaning as you helped him in what he wanted, to glide the underside of his cock over your folds, rolling in the slickness of it, over your clit. "Jesus I can feel you forever..."

It was almost pathetic the moan you let out, but the feeling of his cock teasing you like this was too much. Your folds parting for the underside of it, the tip running over your clit sent little shock waves through you, tightening your hold on his hair, pulling it slightly and your body having a mind of its own. Moving without you even being conscious of it. Needing to feel him, wanting him so badly. Feeling his cock slide so effortlessly over you, giving you a taste, small little whimpers finding their way from your throat and out your parted, with panting lips. "Fuck, please..." Your heart skipped a beat when you heard him groan, your eyes were closed, surrendering to the feel of him. They opened now, looking into his dark brown eyes, looking as wild and lustful as you felt. His own lips were parted, ghosting over yours, the most pretty little sounds coming from him with every heavy exhale of his breath. Head swimming, every bit of friction between you two driving you insane with need. "Joseph, baby... You feel so good... Please?"

"G o d..." he breathed out, his lips turning into a smile. "Love it when you beg..." He was teetering on the edge of sanity himself, every slick feel of his cock over you was giving him that same wave of pleasure, his lips grazing along your jaw, kissing, letting you feel the tease of his teeth. "Fuck... You're already so wet, love..." Letting out a groan as he kissed hotly against your neck, feeling the sharp breath you took, his free hand grasping at the pillow above your head, curling fingers around it. "...the way it'd be...so easy for me to just..." he shuddered, "...slip inside you..."

"...p l e a s e. . ."

"Fuck..." the words breathed out hotly against your skin, you shivered, still so desperately squirming underneath him. His cock pulsed, throbbed against your actions. "...you're fucking adorable when you're so desperate for my cock..." You let out a whimper, a soft little whine following soon after. Your eyes finding him, the smile on his face wide as he saw your pout, your eyes pleading. Licking his lips, he captured yours, melting the pout away as you returned his kiss, tasting each other for only a moment as he pressed closer, the tip of his cock rubbing firmly against your clit. "...tell me..." he muttered against your lips. "...tell me how much you want it. My cock inside you..."

He was being unfair, you both knew. The way you squirmed even more, your breath hitched, whining softly against him. God, if you knew how much he loved it right at that moment, this attempt of control quickly dwindled with you underneath him. But you didn't. He was teasing you, that's all you knew. Moving the tip of his cock through your folds, parting for him as his kisses started again, on your lips, tongue rolling forward, sliding so easily inside to taste you. You could feel him, the swollen head just there, so easily could slip in and fill you. Making you pant softly against his mouth, your kiss breaking, dazed words leaving your lips. "...I want it..."

There was a groan, a deep hum from him, pecking against your chin, lips sliding across your jaw. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

"Your cock..."

Biting his lip, he smiled, the desperate plea in your voice stroking his ego nicely, making his body shiver, feeling his tip starting to slide inside you, forcing himself to stop. "...Jesus, so greedy and so eager to suck me in..." Biting kisses along your jaw, "Tell me how bad you want it..."

"Oh, god, Joseph..." You would have cursed him out, but the way you ached for him, you let out a groan, desperation claiming you. "...I want your cock so fucking bad... Okay? I want your thick...fat...cock...filling me so deep I can't even think, talk about anything other than you feeling...so good... I want you to fuck me so hard and deep... I want you, I want you, baby... Please... Stop teasing me..."

He practically melted right on top of you, words driving the last semblance of sanity far away, a growl emitting from his lips as his hips drove forward. A moan wrestled from his lips while you? It came out in a gasp, the swollen tip sliding into your heat with no resistance, "Oh, fuck," he let out in a shaky whisper, his now free hand grasping your hip, aiding in driving his length into you, not stopping until he was buried deep. "...oh, god, oh, fuck, that's it, my good girl... Shit..." You felt so like heaven, his cock pulsed with the way your walls stretched around him. Making him feel how heated, wet and tight you were. So utterly wet, dripping for him, yet still giving him that tight feel he so often loved in fucking you. "Jesus fuck, baby... Oh, is this what you want? Hm? Feeling so full with my cock?"

The girth of him stretches you so good, your hands moving from the back of his head to his shoulders, letting out a strained moan. He did feel good, he always felt good. "...baby...shit..." you hissed, the first push always knocking your breath away. Always amazed how you can suck his cock inside your cunt, feeling so tight around him, he was buried deep within you, making your stomach clench. Muscles tightened. The tip of him reached so far that you started panting, "...Oh, god... So... So deep, baby... I... Oh, god."

"I know, I know, it feels so fucking amazing for me, too..." The way he throbbed, pulsed so deep inside you, groaning as he moved down your neck, biting gently, rocking his hips against you, "...every fucking time..." He could feel your nails digging deep into his skin, the thought of you leaving marks delighting you both, a little smile on his lips at the feel of his cock dragging out of your cunt, squeezing him tight, sucking him as if so desperate to keep him buried so deep. The sound of your whine filling his ears, making him let out a groan each time he pushed himself right back in. Gentle thrusts, breathy moans against your neck, hand gripping at both the pillow above your head while the other gripped at your hip a moment before moving toward your thigh, "...wider..." he breathed, biting your skin, "Spread your legs wider, love... Wanna fuckin' split you open with my cock, alright, my darling?"

How quickly you obeyed his demand could have been seen as shameless, but he only smiled against your skin. His gentle thrusts from before transitioned to something harder... Deeper... The sound of your wet arousal coating his cock hitting the air, heard by the both of you. Soft grunting from him, from the depths of his chest as he moved, fucking the moans out of you. Soft, strained, your hands descending down his body, nails scratching their way toward his hips. "Please... Please..." were all you could manage before tugging his waist. A silent plea for more, making him groan in such a way before he's slamming into you. The sound of skin slapping against one another, his movements not even in the same realm as gentle. Led by desire and lust, there was no control, by either of you, chasing after that euphoric feeling. Of filling you so deep and being filled by him that nothing else mattered. His name falling from your lips in desperate pants and moans, the heat overtaking you, nails digging into his skin that you didn't know his soft little cry was from that or how tight your cunt was gripping him.

"...oh, she loves my cock, doesn't she? Your sweet little cunt..." His voice breathless, not stopping his movements, not even for a second. He swore he felt himself fuck you deeper and deeper, amazed at how well you take him each time. "...so...so fuckin' eager for me... Jesus fuck..."

A soft whimper flows past your lips, trying to have the mind to speak, but his cock is so good, hitting you so deep that it makes you struggle, "...she...oh, fuck, that feels so fucking good...." Getting lost in the feel of him, the tip hitting that special spot, making you pant and moan, the slightest quivering of your thighs, squeezing his waist tight. "...mm...fuck, she get's.... Oh, fuck… Fuck! …jealous....sometimes...."

His lips ascend from your neck to your jaw, biting his way to your lips, your words caught but taking him a moment through physical touch to respond with, "...jealous?"

"Mmhm," you utter out with an exaggerated pout against his lips. "The way you just...spread your legs all over the place..." He let out a snort, eyes looking down at you, smiling softly. "In interviews and photoshoots... Showing everybody a look at your perfect cock..." You shake your head, a smile bright on your lips. "The jealousy is just...awful."

Joseph kissed your lips hard, smiling, laughing along with you. "Oh, we can't have that... I can't have her being angry at me... Not this perfect pussy... Always treating me and my cock so nicely..."

You giggled, loving that even in the heat of the moment, you two could have this. Just…this, together. The teasing, the silliness, the things that made the two of you just right. Letting out a soft groan, “You can’t have her be mad, baby…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “No, no, no, we can’t… Mmm-mmm, no, can’t have that…” His lips turned into a full pout, making you laugh. “Not allowed, no. Erm… God, what can I do? What can I do?” The pout was gone, replaced with a wide grin, flash of his teeth showing, all the while not stopping his hips from sliding in and out of you, just a bit slower, as he thought of the next move. Though you felt so fucking good, it was driving him absolutely mad. He wasn’t joking, you cunt was always so fucking good to him, as he nipped along your jaw, he could feel her clenching around him. So tight and wet just for him… Sucking him in, making him growl as he slammed into your hips a bit harder, just for the feel of his cock so deep inside to make you cry out in a whimper.

Your hands gripping on his shoulders, lifting to bite him there as well, hearing him moan and feeling him twitch inside you. If he kept this up, you would be so close… The feel of him splitting you open too much. So easily you felt lost when he was inside you, only a shred of the person you are, mainly replaced by a needy woman that only wanted to cum for him. For yourself, a bit, but mainly for him. He drove you crazy, transformed you into this ravenous being, hungering, desperate for his cock, his kiss, his words and moans. No one had ever made you feel this way, and you doubt anyone else would. “Baby…” His lips came crashing on yours, his hand grasped around your neck, and he swallowed your moans while meeting some of his own. You felt light, thoughts both flowing and yet emptied themselves from your head. You smell his cologne, feel the wetness between your legs coating his cock, you hear the slap of his hips against your body… Taste his taste on your tongue. All your senses were focused on him and it took you a moment to realize his grasp on your hips, not until he rolled over, pulling you on top.

Amazingly your lips remained within your kiss, his hands roaming the small of your back as you settled on top of him. Cock still buried inside you, a groan leaving him as his teeth took your bottom lip between his, biting hard, his chest heaving as he gave a little thrust of his hips up into you. You gasped, a shuddering breath following and he hummed. “...I thought what to do…” he explained softly, his hands moving back to your hips, gripping you tightly, guiding you to rock your hips back and forth gently. His hot breath came out against your chest, his lips kissing a soft trail towards your breasts. “I want her to take the lead… Yeah? Mmm… Let her take as much as she wants… Take my cock just how she likes… Isn’t that—” His words stopped as you didn’t hesitate, starting to move your hips faster, taking him by gentle surprise as he let out a soft cry. “—Jesus…. Fuck….” A soft laugh came out, his hands leaving you and took to grip at sheets beneath him. “Oh, fuck… God, that’s it…” You were a fucking goddess to him sometimes, leaning back and looking at you properly.

It was always a thrill, seeing his cock so taken by your cunt. When you rise and he could see how you made his cock glisten, so warm and wet, the sounds from your lips making him throb as you slammed your hips down on him. Rolling his eyes back as he closed them, knuckles white as he grabbed the sheets. “God, yes... Shit, you’re fucking perfect…”

“Oh, god… B a b y…” your voice was trembling, lost within your panting breath, driven by the pleasure of bouncing on his cock. Hands desperate to touch him, hold him, grabbing onto the sides of his stomach, nails digging into his flesh, using that to anchor your movements. Faster and faster… Your moans sounding more unhinged, filling his bedroom, the very air around you, hearing his own as well. “You… You feel so good…” Swallowing hard as you feel him start to thrust up against you, a cry ripping from your mouth. “So fucking good…”

“She takes me…” A wave comes over him, his hands leaving the sheets and to your thighs, heavy breath past his lips as his brows furrow. “Jesus… Oh, she takes me so…fucking…good…” He could feel it, how your cunt clenched around him so tight, making him growl.

You smile, a tremble of a laugh as you squeeze his sides. “She fuckin loves your cock…” His hips snap up hard, making you close your eyes tight and body quiver, a wave of pleasure, white hot flashes through you. “You stretch me so good, Joseph… Get in so deep… Fuck,” you let out, bouncing on his cock harder, gasps leaving your parted mouth. He doesn’t move this time, but he grips at your thighs, letting you ride him, taking complete control and you could hear his moans as he twitches and pulses inside you. Eyes are closed, the sound of your moans, the slap of skin as you move harder and faster, chasing your high, pleasure mounting inside you. “Feel so fucking perfect inside me… So good… Oh god.” The sound of your wetness drowning his length was so crisp and clear to your ears. “So wet for you…”

“I know, I know,” he all but whimpered, squeezing your thighs, “Love it when you’re so wet… Just for me… Jesus fucking Christ, feeling my cock slide in and out of you so easily… But so tight… So warm and perfect, Jesus fuck… Can you feel it… How much my cock loves you… Mmm, love how you make such a mess…”

God, you could. Every twitch, pulse, throb… Always taking your breath away, but you nodded, only moving faster, harder on him. A seamless motion of your hips, taking him fiercely and you could feel your body growing tense, toes starting to curl and that white hot claiming you bit by bit throughout your body. “....I can feel it… I can fucking feel it… Oh, baby… Joseph, fuck, I… yes… Fuck… Yes, yes—”

“Fuck, I can feel it…” his voice own voice strained, nails digging into your skin as he groans deep. His own muscles feeling tight, the spark in his belly igniting. “My girl is gonna cum, isn’t she? Yeah, she is… Fuckin’ hell, gonna make such a mess on my cock, aren’t you, my love? Yeah? God, tell me…”

“I’m gonna… Gonna make such a mess…” Your thighs trembling, gasping for air, “Joseph, baby…! Shit!”

He was quick, lifting himself to pull you down on him, lips on your neck. His hands keeping your legs spread as he fucked you, hard, fast and steady. “Let go, sweetheart… Darling… Fuck, cum with me… I wanna feel you… Wanna feel so bad, please…”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” the last words you uttered until you gave him exactly what you both wanted, a primal cry leaving your lips, cunt clenching around him, squeezing him as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, screaming his name as you shook. You heard him groan, kissing and biting your neck with a growl once more. He kept growling, and the realization it was because of you sent you even more over the edge. Wave after wave went through you, feeling your release drench and pour on his cock. Your arms squeezing tightly, clinging onto him as you trembled in his strong arms, trembling, sobbing. Feeling his cock still slamming into your cunt, taking it, the sensitivity making your body rock and twitch on top of him, but not wanting to stop, sending you to that euphoric state of being only Joseph could get you to. None of your partners were ever close. Only him.

It wasn’t long after until it hit him, cock throbbing, pulsing, his panting and groaning mingled with his such desperate growls. Biting your shoulder, shutting his eyes closed, he savored the feel of you so tight around his cock, and the mess of your release. So wet, he could feel the mess and could only imagine what your pussy looked like. Art, he thought. He was fucking art, a masterpiece, groaning deep as he chased after his own pleasure, feeling the wetness of your mouth and possibly tears against the crook of his neck. You always felt so alive in his arms, making him shudder as he continued. The sound of your cunt sharper than before, driving him mad, absolutely fucking mad. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl, my best…fucking…girl…! Oh, god, so good for me, so…fuckin’.... Jes…Jesus Christ… Oh fuck! Yes… Shit… Oh, my girl, my precious fuckin’ girl, you make…” His chest heaving, feeling it, “...feel so good… You’re gonna take it, yeah? Take every…Jesus fuck…. Oh god, everything… Take fucking everything…” You nodded, prompting him to give your arse a good smack, earning a light yelp from you. “Say it.”

Whimpering softly, “...take it, I’m gonna take it… Take everything… Oh, god, please, give it to me…”

He groaned, “...good girl… Oh, God…!” A few more strokes of his cock in and out of you, taking your hips and one last thrust, making sure he was deep inside you as he spilled with deep, primal growl. Your hand went to his curls, fingers squeezing tight as you shook and trembled, crying out a moan and he bit into the flesh of your shoulder. Ecstasy filled him, cock pulsing, threads of his cum painting your walls, muttering your name over and over like a prayer. Body trembling with you, the white heat burning him from the inside out, stilling only for a moment until but you both felt so good, both of your bodies starting to move again. Your lips finding each other’s, kissing each other deep, moaning, whimpering into each other’s mouths, the sensitivity sending each other to a place of pleasure and a good sense of hurt, bodies quivering together. He wanted to fuck his cum deeper into you, and a part of you wanted that too. Not stopping him, a warmth cascading over you as his hand smoothed over your stomach.

After the daze had settled, you reluctantly slid from him, leaving his cock to drop to his stomach, your joined release dripping over him there. An immediate ache settled over you, your body, your cunt mourning the loss of his cock making you feel so full as you settled on your side, curled up to him and resting your cheek to his shoulder, both out of breath. Your clit pulsed, throbbing, and your cunt was still clinging to the feeling of when he came, the feel of his hot cum filled you, so much that he seeped from you even as he was still fucking you. His fingers came to your cheek, causing you to lift your eyes to look at his deep chocolate brown ones, looking at you in that soft sense of afterglow, with such adoration it made your heart sing. Smiling brightly, you raise your lips to kiss him, both humming with a smile on each other’s lips, his hand cupping your cheek, kissing each other deep before pulling away with a hum.

There was a comforting silence between you for a moment, eyes, hands, lips finding each other. Kissing your fingertips, knuckles, your wrist. You place your chin to his shoulder, tracing his lips, down to his neck—a snort leaving you. “Shit…” you let out, biting your bottom lip as fingers traced over your handiwork. “It’s already a bit purple… God, you bruise easily…”

He rolled his eyes, “Those poor makeup crew… All because my girl is feral for me.”

“Oh fuck you,” you laughed, settling closer to him, draping a leg between his and arm across his stomach, “You love it.”

Joseph couldn’t deny it, fingers sliding over your arm, “Yeah, I do. Fucking adore it, actually. Makes me feel smug and I’ll wear it with pride.”

You hummed softly, “And not bad that you’ve given me a few marks of your own…”

“Matching set, only fair…”

“True,” you concede, holding him closer as he turned, wrapping an arm around you. A soft, pleased little hum leaving as he kissed your forehead, the feel of his warmth a good comfort to you.

“So… The video’s good, then? Or…amazing, even? Like we’ve established I’m fuckable in it, clearly, got the mess on my cock to prove it, but—”

“Oh my god,” you let out with a pained laugh, laying on your back as you looked up at him. “You are so lucky I love you, you know that, right?”

A soft little grin settled on his lips, looking at you, that warmth and adoration from earlier only deepened right at that moment. “...I was actually thinking the exact same thing.”

#writings — words did come hither #writings — fade to grey #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn fanfic

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icallhimjoey · 4 months

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writing idea: group hang at a rage room/smash room that ends up in a meet cute.

eeeeeee thanks for this request! it's a quick lil thing, hope you enjoy! tw: mention of blood and a cut in your face Wordcount: 1.7K

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Not His Thing

Joe hasn't stopped feeling the uncomfortable flush of guilt in his face for the past half an hour. He feels awful.

Smash rooms, as so it turns out, aren't really his thing.

"Stop saying you're sorry."

"Yea, sorry. I'll stop. Sorry. Sorry." Joe jokingly takes all blame immediately, because he is obviously an idiot who can't do anything right at the moment.

You smile through watery eyes, your nose tinged red and half your face numb from the cold. You've been pressing a towel-wrapped ice pack to your cheekbone for over twenty minutes now, and it's done wonders for the bleeding and for the pain. Not so much for the panic and the lightheadedness that followed though, but all things considered, you feel fine.

Your fun day out with friends has been cut short, though.

"Does it hurt still?" someone asks you, and you expertly control your voice, give them a steady, "No, it's just cold, now." but your eyes are still watery.

When you remove the ice pack for a member of staff to have a look at you, they tut worriedly and tell you to just hold it in place a moment longer.

Joe did this. This is Joe's fault.

Joe tries his best not to wince at the swelling he can see. At the size of the cut he left in your face. God, your face. You are likely going to need stitches. He remembers getting a cut in his own face, right in the middle of his forehead, and how that bled for hours. The worst part though, is that it'd left him with a scar.

Joe can't believed he scarred someone.

"But I am sor–" Joe tries, not overly loud, he doesn't want to make you jump.

"Stop it. It was an accident. Accidents happen, don't worry." You reassure him once more, and you really mean it, but it does nothing for Joe's culpability.

He did this.

Joe had swung a bat at porcelain, and you'd been in the wrong spot at the wrong time. A shard of vase had gotten stuck in your cheekbone, just below the protective glasses you'd been wearing.

You imagined it'd just been a scrape, had only let a small, "Ow," pass your lips upon the impact, but then you'd gone to touch it, and felt something solid there still.

Stuck.

Skin wet.

The liquid warm.

Something solid.

Something sharp.

Your fingers painted red, and the sight of it had nearly made you faint. Joe had never seen colour drain from someone's face quite so fast.

Joe already knew that his fight or flight response was freeze, but being confronted with this cowardly personality trait like this was terrible.

Joe hadn't ever seen a girl panic the way you had from something he was responsible for.

He'd just stood next to you in his protective gear, big shocked eyes behind his plastic safety glasses, entirely unsure of what to do.

And then you'd wobbled on your legs, and he had just shot an arm out.

For the lack of strength you'd held in your legs, Joe was surprised by the death grip you had on the sleeve of his overalls.

Your blood covered hand went back to touch at your cheek again, but Joe was able to grab hold of that wrist just in time. And then, with weird tensed upper bodies that held onto each other, Joe'd lowered you down onto the ground because everyone around you kept repeating for you to sit down, to get onto the floor.

You sat down, and then only seconds later, lied down before you could lose consciousness all together. Your friend lifted your legs up and even though your eyes looked scared, the two of you were giggling. Laughing at the silly situation.

And Joe had just stood there.

Useless.

Your skin looked extra pale next to the bright red of the blood that dripped down your cheek right into your hair and it was... sort of beautiful. Awful thing to focus on when he should've actually been doing something helpful, but Joe just... looked at you, and thought you looked lovely.

Looking at you now, still teary, but smiling, he's still scared it'll flare up again. Your panic. It's unlikely, you're sat on the floor, leaning against the wall near the exit, but your cheek doesn't look good. He feels bad going back in to launch a hammer at a printer, or whatever, so he's hovering. Some of his friends are too, just like the staff is, making sure you're drinking your water, telling you to stay seated until your breathing has returned to normal.

Your friend has gone to get the car, and she said she'd be quick, but the second she was out the door, you'd cracked a joke. Said you'd see her in an hour if you were lucky.

You shudder through another inhale, and it makes Joe's eyebrows twitch up a little. You see it happen and release your breath in a laugh.

"If I were to go with just how you're looking at me, I'd believe I was actively dying," you joke, and everyone around you politely smiles through worried grimaces.

"I feel fine. I'm fine, honestly. It's just a minor cut. It feels," and like an idiot, you remove the ice pack and shove a dirty finger right into the cut on your face.

You feel how wide the cut is, and how deep into your cheek your finger sinks.

"Fi–..."

The wave of nausea is a surprise to you, and the way Joe shoots into action when you sag to the side because your head is suddenly too heavy is a real surprise to him.

"Hey, hey, okay, careful, careful..." Joe holds you by the side of your face that hasn't got a huge gash in and curls his fingers around as he carefully tries to hold you up.

"Maybe you shouldn't..." he starts, and finds the ice pack you've dropped with his other hand. "...play with that."

You kind of want to go to sleep.

Close your eyes and have a nap.

You lean into the hand that holds you and the instant comfort after shooting pain is nice.

But then the ice pack gets softly pressed against where your skin's broken and your eyes laser back into focus.

"Hi," Joe says when you make eye-contact. He smiles, though it's wobbly.

Maybe you aren't as fine as you thought you were.

"I'm fine?" you ask, feeling panicked like a real loser.

"You're fine." Joe assures you, voice soft but level enough for you to believe it. That's what's important, he thinks. If you believe it, you'll calm down enough until your friend gets back and she can take you to hospital.

"You're okay, focus on breathing, all right?" Joe redeems himself. This is what he should've done half an hour ago, when all hell broke loose. "That's all you've got to do. You're fine."

"I'm fine." you repeat after him, and force yourself to take a deep breath. "I'm fine." you're reassuring yourself now, and with one hand cupping your clammy face and another cooling where you're hurt, you press your own hands to your chest and ground yourself with your eyes closed.

It's awkward because there's other people there, but Joe's glad he gets to hold you for a bit. It's admittedly an unconventional way of being close to someone he's just met, and he still feels mortified, but... you're pretty. Even with dried blood covering half your face.

If this is how he meets the love of his life, it can be an embarrassing story he will gladly listen to at every single birthday party until he dies.

"That hurt." you say after a moment, and smile, eyes still closed.

"You're fine." Joe says again, but whispers it now.

"I'm sorry," you say like this is your fault. "I should've known not to agree to come to this," you confess, eyes blinking open now, and if you're startled by how close Joe is to you, you don't show it. "I'm not really angry enough for this. I don't think smash rooms are my thing..."

Same, Joe thinks, and he smiles, gets some of his confidence back when he sees the flush returning to your face. "Maybe there's some anger now?" he asks, because you should be angry. At him. Look at what he's done to you.

You don't understand what he means, this handsome stranger, and you frown in confusion. Before you can ask, and before Joe can explain, the door opens and your friend barges in, completely out of breath.

"Quick! I've stopped right in front and I'm holding up traffic!"

And just like that, Joe and staff help you move back up onto your feet.

You're fine.

You're helped out to the car, but halfway down the pavement, you're walking by yourself and are getting into the car without any help.

It is just a cut on your cheek.

"Can I, em," Joe starts, staring through the glass of the door at where you cup a loose hand over your cheek to protect it when you put your seatbelt on with the other. "Can I get her details?" he turns to a member of staff.

"Huh?"

"I'd love to send a card," he explains, and from behind him, he can hear one of his friends softly chuckle.

Joe'd forgotten he was even there with anyone.

"A card, or a bunch of flowers?" one of them starts.

"He's going to write her a love letter," one groans, already annoyed by the idea of it.

"Gifts her ten grand, just because he feels bad," another jumps in, and they're laughing, slapping shoulders. They're making fun, pretending to be Joe, mimicking the face he made, how he'd helplessly stood there, joking about how the one time Joe joins them for something, this happens. It's all shit they'd held in whilst you were there still, and it's all spewing out now, no holding them back. Joe doesn't even try.

"Come on, we've spent long enough not smashing TVs in."

And bats, hammers and axes get picked back up.

"You coming?"

And Joe smiles, though it's not very convincing.

"Nah," he says, and walks over to that staff member. He needs to get your details.

"I'm good."

There was no way he was going back in there, because smash rooms, as it turns out, aren't really his thing.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

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taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x Y/N #joe quinn x Y/N #not his thing #icallhimjoey

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