rainstts · 9 hours ago
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Holy Sins.ᐟ
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after one too many nights having dreams more explicit than he could ever imagine, Nanami finally found the woman who was making him question his faith and purpose
✰ pairing. Priest!Nanami Kento x succubus!reader
✰ warnings. MDNI, fem!reader, corruption kink, chastity breaking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, praising, creampie, pet names, fem dom, virginity loss (Nanami’s), sex lessons, oral (male), edgeplay, orgasm control/denial
✰ word count. 3.6k
✰ A/N. The costume of the day is Fleabag! Happy Halloween!!
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It has been weeks since it started. 
Those demonic, explicit dreams with that mysterious woman he had never seen in his life. You. You were making Nanami try hard to stay in control of his body and mind, even in his unconscious state. He had tried to sleep earlier, later, he tried to stay awake only to be taken down by his exhaustion, and there you were again. Even when he slept holding his chaplet bathed in holy water, you were there to take him from his quietness to experience pleasure one more time. 
Nanami would wake up later on, in the middle of the night, body covered in sweat, breathless and forced to take a cold shower with his mind in shambles, trying to forget the things you did to him in his sleep. He had been reading books, praying, trying to find something to keep you away from him, but nothing seemed to work. Not even the words in Latin from his ancient, sacred book. 
You weren’t leaving. You were his succubus.
The angel of doom, who would corrupt and absorb the energy of those who were visited. And Nanami couldn’t help but worry about that too, but it was so hard to think straight when his mind could only remember those sensations he never felt in real life. But you made him want it. Crave it. 
Lost in thoughts, he walked down the empty hallways of his small house at the end of the chapel. It was a stormy night, the rain was still pouring outside with the occasional white glow of a thunder, and all he needed was a cold glass of water to calm his mind and body so he could get back to sleep. But he knew that would be impossible as soon as he stepped in his kitchen and saw you standing there, smiling sweetly, waiting for the man in your see through red dress with nothing underneath.
You looked so… human. Fragile like a marble sculpture, an ethereal glow over your skin, spreading your cherry scent all over the room. He was expecting something more close to the image he had seen in the books, the exaggerated descriptions of disheveled, dark wings and horns, crimson eyes and sharp teeth. 
No. You were different. Beautiful, even when he knew what you were. The curves of your body guiding his gaze when he had no intention to stare. Your eyes called his attention back up, and that goddamn sadistic smile on your lips, knowing too well what memories and images were in his mind now. 
“I thought you would take longer to come in person,” Nanami broke the silence, his eyes focused on your face while he walked closer, his steps determined. “You already know who I am, or do I need to introduce myself?”
“I know everything I need to know about you.” You finally speak, two calculated steps taking you to stand face to face with the man. And moved your hand gently, waiting for a polite handshake. “I’m your succubus.”
“Why… mine?” He asked after silently denying the handshake, putting both hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Well… You started having erotic dreams, and that attracted me here, like a blooming flower to a hummingbird.” You walked around his body in silent steps, circling the man like a predator until you saw the sweat on his back from his recent dream. “It surprised me. A man so pure, chaste, untouched, thinking these kinds of things…”
“You put those things in my mind!” He replied, looking at you over his shoulder, fighting the urge to look down and take in the sight gifted to him.
Clicking your tongue in denial, you felt his body tremble and shiver when your hands touched his waist, almost hugging him from behind, while keeping him close. 
“You know damn well what triggered your profane thoughts, Nanami,” You stated, hands traveling up his torso and back down to his abdomen, moving lower, slowly feeling his muscles. “It wasn’t a coincidence that you dreamt with the pleasures you never felt after your cheating little lamb confessed the unholy things she did with her lover.”
Your voice sounded almost hypnotic, falling on his ears like a damn tease, while Nanami was fighting hard to not let you win that silent conflict, but it was hard. The dream was still too fresh in his mind, and your hands were too close to the waistband of his pants. And, even when he finally felt the courage to hold your hands and forbid you to touch him any further, it wasn’t enough. 
The feeling of your nails on his white skin, moving up to his abdomen and leaving red marks, made him grunt and close his eyes. 
“You thought about it, about her, fantasizing, consumed by the desire to see, to know how it felt. You wanted to touch, to taste,” Your voice was almost a whisper at this point, amidst the rain falling outside. “That desire brought me to you. But the dreams weren’t enough, right?”
Nanami cleared his throat when he felt your hands sneaking under his pants, with his eyes closed he didn’t stop you. The smile on your face only widening now, knowing it was the only piece he was wearing. But when you didn’t touch him any further, he seemed to remember the question you asked, and opened his eyes forcibly, trying to ignore where your hands were.
So close.
“No,” He replied after holding back a groan. “The dreams weren’t enough.”
“That’s right. It wasn’t. Because what you feel, Kento, is too much to be satiated so simply. And that’s why I’m here.”
“I… Can’t.”
“You want to. You called me in your sleep, wanted me in the shower,” Your body was now fully pressed against his, letting him feel the thin fabric of your dress and your body against his skin. “And, deep down, you know only I can fulfill your need.”
Your voice accompanied his breathless moan when your right hand finally touched his aching erection, feeling each other’s warmth. He felt too fascinated by the excitement the touch could provide, his eyes were heavy from the slight pleasure, his hands were closed in fists, fighting with himself to let you touch him more or to pull you away.
“I can’t. I vowed my chastity to my purpose.” He breathed out, the words almost like a mantra, more for himself than for you. It made you smile. 
“Then tell me to stop.” 
Your voice sounds like an order, keeping the firm tone and the soft strokes on his cock, bringing him a slight idea of what you could and wanted to do to him, it makes him shiver and close his eyes again. Pressing your index on his leaking tip, you can feel how he’s already lubricating, the warm, sticky feeling makes you hum in approval.
“I’ll stop if you want. Just say the word.”
With your free hand, you slowly pull down his pants, your right hand now able to move freely back and forth, applying pressure to his warm flesh. He breathed in deep again, eyebrows frowning, lips parting when the desire was stronger, grasping his moans out, the sounds of it echoing in the silent kitchen. 
It all sounds like music to your ears.
“Don’t stop.”
His words were enough to make your grip tighten around him, feeling the man almost freeze under your touch. Slowly, you turned his body to make the priest face you, pushing the man backwards so he could lean on the side counter. Nanami placed both his hands there, keeping himself free for you and avoiding touching your body, unsure of what to do.
His lack of experience was what most attracted you. The idea of taking away his innocence and making him feel everything he forbade himself to feel for all his life was deeply exciting. Every moan and grunt you took from him made you pulse around nothing in a contained need, making it hard for you to control yourself while jerking him off, painfully slow. 
Nanami helped when you started pulling the sweatpants down, passing the fabric off his feet and tossing it aside, at this point, unbothered to show you what you so much wanted to see. His large frame naked for your eyes only, and the huge arousal, almost feeling like a shame to keep all that hidden.
“I want you to tell me how you like it,” You start, increasing the speed of your movements ever so slightly, caressing his red tip with your thumb. You loved how that made his breath hitch. “Don’t forget that I’m here to satisfy you, Kento.” 
As you knelt in front of him, he nodded, even though his mind was already clouded from the pleasure he felt. His breath got caught in his throat as you, without a warning, licked his twitching cock from the base to the tip. He trembled, hands still in tight fists as he held back that sudden, strange need to feel your hair against his fingers, to guide you, even if he didn’t know how.
You noticed the doubt in his movements, and smiled while letting his leaking tip slide into your mouth. You kept eye contact, seeing him close his eyes when his cock hit your throat, deep enough to feel your moan vibrating against his sensitive skin. When he moaned again, Nanami let go of his self-control and moved his hands to your hair, feeling it in between his fingers as he moved his hips just a little, enough to enjoy the feeling of you deep throating him so good. 
“Oh my- T-This is- Good.”
“Do you prefer it this way?” You asked, stroking his length with both hands while catching your breath. 
“It makes me feel sensitive, but…” He cleared his throat, barely believing he was confiding that to you. And while he seemed to try to find words to complete his statement, you welcomed him into your mouth again, tongue moving down to push him further as he went deeper in you. “Feels so good! Oh, God, I-”
And, to his frustration, you pulled out again.
“Relax, Kento. Hold my hair tight, I’ll teach you how to fuck my mouth.”
“B-But- I-”
Soft touches of your hand above his made him tighten his touch, allowing you to move your mouth against him, his insanely hot girth stretching your mouth as it went deeper and deeper, saliva running from the sides of your mouth with each movement, keeping him warm and soaked. Nanami kept his hands in your hair, grabbing a handful when his head fell back from the pleasure as you hummed against his length. 
After increasing that stimulation, you finally started moving your head back and forth, mouth wide open as the sounds of your gagging echoed in the kitchen along with his desperate grunts. Every time he clenched his fist and pulsed in your mouth, you pulled away, not allowing him to reach that dangerous pleasure just yet, edging the poor, desperate man to handle more of your insatiable mouth. 
“Please, please l-let me- I need to c-cum, please!” His voice was low, his whimpers sounding like a prayer as he looked down at you with teary eyes. 
“Not so soon, Kento.” You denied, but continued moving your hand at the same fast pace, pressing tight around his dick, taking more grunts and breathless moans from the man. His body started shaking again as he felt that wave of pleasure building up inside. 
“I’m close- Ngh, please! I’m gonna c-”
His words turned into a whine when you moved your hands away, denying him another orgasm. You stood up, ignoring his pleas and cleaning the sticky mixture of saliva and pre-cum from the corner of your mouth, the sight making his pupils dilate. With lazy movements for him to watch, you slid down the thin sleeves of your dress, the red fabric falling at your feet.
Now, naked, in front of the holy man, you took his hand, switching positions while he was hypnotized, staring at your body, drinking in every curve. You leaned back on the counter, seeing him look up to your eyes, curious. 
“Do you want me to…” Shy, he left his question unfinished, but his hands resting on your waist and his lost gaze staring down at your thighs said enough. 
“I’m wet enough, darling,” Your voice was soft, a lewd smile on your lips when you turned on your back. “Can you see it?”
With both hands on the cold marble counter, you leaned your torso above it, until he could see perfectly well how your glossy cunt called for him. Nanami nodded in silence, too caught up by the heat spreading across his chest, the distraction good enough to allow you to move closer. Moving your hand closer to him, you reached his throbbing cock, rubbing his reddish tip over your pussy, spreading your lubrication on your lower lips. 
“Can I keep going, Nanami?” 
“Y-Yes, please.”
“I love how responsive you are. So obedient.”
“You l-like it? I-”
You moved back, your hip hitting his as his cock slid into your hot, gummy walls. Your moan was soft as you clenched around his girth, Nanami grabbed your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, feeling your soft flesh as his heartbeats increased. The priest was slowly giving into the newfound pleasure, his eyes closed when you watched him over your shoulder, waiting patiently. 
Only when he softened the grip, you continued. Feeling Nanami pulsing deliciously inside when you moved forth, leaving only the tip inside, and back all at once, making him fill you again, spreading your slippery folds around him. Your moans sounded in unison, and you nodded slowly, allowing him to move. 
“Just your hips,” You said it when you noticed his hesitation, and moved your left hand to touch his hip, feeling how his muscles twitched under the amount of feelings. “You can start slow.”
Nanami nodded slowly and obeyed. His movements started reluctant, just like you imagined, the man letting his needs control him and that devilish euphoric pleasure. Slowly, he started pacing up, faster, rougher, harder. Hands on your hips kept you in place as he moaned for you, not minding how promiscuous he sounded. 
He was yours. 
“Ooh! Is- Is it like t-this? Hmph! My- G-god!”
“Fuck, Kento! Just like that, yes, yes!” 
That feeling in your chest only seemed to increase, the pleasure, the sweet pain of his lengthy cock hitting your cervix over and over and over, and so deliciously wet. The obscene sounds of him reaching your right spots so easily echoing along with both of your moans, making you arch your back, supplicating for him to keep going, and going. 
“You’re doing s-so- Fuck! So good, Kento!”
“Am I? F-For you only!” 
Your praise only made him twitch more inside you, while your tight pussy continued milking him, sucking him in, making him go deeper, hit deeper, harder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hands gripped his waist. His own hands keep you steady, even when he could feel his strength fading, being taken by the indecent thrill. 
“Mh- I can f-feel you cl-ench-ing! Feels so good!” He stuttered, heavy balls hitting your sensitive, reddish clit, increasing the stimulation. 
“You’re gonna make me cum, Kento,” You stated, hearing his grunts and pleas for you. 
Your right hand touched his, guiding his touch to your clit, showing him how to touch you, even if it was raw, edging mean, his rough fingers doing right to make you moan louder, clench tighter around him, the feeling of the imminent orgasm now uncontrollable. 
“F-Fuck! You love this, don’t you? I know y-you do!”
Nanami closed his eyes, head falling back again without stopping his movements. Hips hitting yours, hands making your clit throb, both of you moaning louder, immoral sounds while diving into a sea of pleasure.
“This, what, priest?” 
You teased, biting your lip when he pressed your clit in a scissor movement with his index and middle finger, making you clench tight around his cock. The feeling made Kento tighten his grip on your hip with his free hand, his hips moving harder against yours in an attempt to fill that pleasure none of you could control. 
“This tw-i-isted pride for m-making me break my- Fuck! My chastity vow!” He can’t control when he whimpers, choked moans leaving his throat as he keeps slamming his hips against you, hitting all the right spots even being a virgin. “Only y-you could ta-a-ke my s-sanity, m-making me- Hgh! Fall on my k-nees- To this desire of my-y flesh. That’s why y-you’re sooo fucking- fuck! wet!”
His deep voice was now replaced with those sweet stunned groans, hoarse, Nanami was unable to form a sentence without moaning, cursing or choking on his words, that deep desire fueling his mind as he slammed his hips against yours, yanking your hips to hit his body. Your moans filled the room as he squirmed, both with mouth half open as he pressed his digits harshly against your clit, grasping that high you were reaching and bringing it to you in gradual, heavenly movements. 
You moaned as your cunt clenched around his cock, the tightness and wetness of it only increasing the sinful sounds around you two, as your spasming pussy milked his cock for more. Your overstimulated body rocking back and forth as Nanami continued hissing and groaning, trying to control his own high as he felt your pulse.
But it didn’t. If anything, the way he continued fucking you so mercilessly only made that feeling build up in your core again. 
And fuuuck you couldn’t deny his words. You loved that. The way your body was hot, and your mind was heavy ever since he accepted your touch. Nothing would take away the satisfaction of corrupting a holy man, of being his first cunt to fuck, to hear him cursing under his breath as he felt his heavy balls aching to fill you up. 
“Mhn! Yes!” You finally admitted. “Makes me feel p-powerful, and it’s so good, Kento!”
The priest smiled, even with his body shivering and trembling from the endless pleasure taking over. It was a twisted, perverse feeling to fill his chest, he would be damned giving in to that temptation, but it made him feel in a paradise. A distorted heaven gave to him from a succubus like you.
But there he was, fucking himself into your hot, wet walls, the sticky sounds fueling that fire in both of you. Both sensitive, too close to an orgasm to hold back now. Your pussy tightened around his throbbing cock as he let the pleasure take over. Nanami held your hips with both hands as he fucked you, savoring the sounds of your moans as your cumming cunt sucked him in, reaching another high as he shoved his dick inside you, not stopping when he came.
“Mph! Oh, fuuuck! Fuck!” His guttural moans filled your ears as you felt the hot seed leaking as he continued pumping himself into you, bringing both of you to another overwhelming wave of sensations. 
“Na-nami! Fe-els s-so- Ahgn!” 
Your words died in your throat as he slammed his hips against yours one last time, releasing his last drops deep inside against your cervix. And stayed there, leaning his body against yours as his forehead rested on your back. 
That luxury bliss quieted down as you two could finally relax, and you felt Nanami’s right hand moving.
“Bless me, Father…” Kento started, moving away from your body. 
Hearing those words, you smiled. When he pulled out, your hands moved back to spread your lower lips, letting him see how you were still twitching from the recent pleasure, and how his whitish, warm seed escaped, leaving you dirty and wet, drops falling on his wooden floor. 
Nanami’s breath hitched with the sight, body shivering as the repressed desire was set free. He knew he would have many more dreams about that.
“... For I have sinned.” He finished his statement, closing his eyes. 
The priest only looked back at you when he heard your footsteps in his kitchen, as if you owned the place, finding your dress tossed aside and leaning down to grab it, giving him a last private show of what he had done to you, under your command. 
“You will…” He got lost in his words as he put his sweatpants back on. Kento was unsure of what to ask, or how normal people acted after sex. “You will come back again, won’t you?”
“Is that a question or an invitation?”
Your words made the man roll his eyes and chuckle, shaking his head. 
“A question. Rhetorical, almost.”
“I will come back if you ask for me, if you call me.”
“I don’t think I should.” Nanami cleared his throat, his hands finding its way to his pockets as he felt uneasy with the farewell.
“Don’t feel guilty. That’s just a way of controlling you.” You stated, touching his chin. “I can come back just to talk too, you know?”
“I didn’t… Know that.”
“Well, whenever you need any kind of company on a stormy night, you can call your morally wrong friend. I will listen.”
“Deal.”
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✰ A/N. This was a lil rushed so I could post something for Halloween, idk if I like it but hope u enjoyed, sweets
I DO NOT authorize plagiarism of any kind.
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ᥫ᭡
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thepoisonroom · 5 months ago
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What's the most recent thing you've been obsessed with? x
my girlfriend being, like, a cis woman of they/them experience
#i really admire when people who are cis have like#thought about and explored their gender a lot in order to arrive there#i know i was in deep denial about my gender and sexuality for years and like#only properly interrogated them out of necessity because i felt like i didn't have another choice and couldn't go on as i had been#i really admire when people have the courage to ask questions about that kind of thing#knowing that whatever you find out about yourself could require your life to change#i was really scared for a long time about how my life might have to change if i ever admitted that i like#was a lesbian or wasn't cis#i think deliberately seeking out that kind of self-knowledge knowing that it could change your life is like#very brave and self-respecting and intelectually honest in a way i admire a lot#i think something i've had to accept about myself is that as much as people tend to react to me as a bit eccentric or unconventional#i do have a strong reflexive urge to fit in and not stand out in any way#and if i were actually good at acting or passing or whatever i could have lived very comfortably in denial for a long time#like i'm not a particularly brave person when it comes to any kind of nonconformity i just didn't have a second option#i admire people who actively choose to explore their identities the same way i admire my friends who like#grew up really christian and deconstructed even though it must be really frightening to question something that structures your whole like#life and worldview#it takes a moral and intellectual courage and honesty that i just really really admire and draw a lot of inspiration from#sorry for the ramble i bave insomnia#anonymous#ask and receive
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rowanwolf · 2 years ago
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Well, it's been a day. Worked today and we had a massive storm. We kept losing power. (Unfortunately all the shouts of "If the power goes out we get to go home!" every time the building went dark and everybody's computer died were false. This is a hospital, we don't close for shit. Think the storm's gonna get us out of work? Nah. Did you forget about the backup generator?) Anyway, massive storm. There was a good solid 30 minutes where it was raining so hard we couldn't see the building that's like 50 yards away. Storms like that always make me feel shifty. And I've been missing my phantom limbs horribly. The rain started and I felt gryphon-shaped again and oh my god was that a relief.
And then I got home and opened my closet and the ceiling had fallen in and I could see daylight and I now have to wash practically every article of clothing I own, but you know. This is fine. Everything's fine. My wings are back, I'm gonna just focus on that and not the fact that I cannot sleep in my bedroom tonight because mildew and wet leaf smell. (For some reason there were a shitton of leaves up there. I don't even know.) I'm about ready to cry over all the laundry - of course I've been crying at the drop of a hat all week, so take that with a grain of salt - but my wings and my tail are back and I missed them so fucking much.
I just want to be me. I want to have my own phantom limbs. I want to be correctly the wrong shape. XD I am coming to appreciate my headmates more with each shitty thing that goes on (I know I posted about my cousin on my system blog, but Idk if I put that here) but I miss being me sometimes. Just me. I miss my wings and all the ridiculous things I do to accommodate the size of them, I miss the urge to roll around the yard every time I go outside, I miss the wanting to just curl up in the full bathtub and sleep there. It's the stupid, inconvenient things that I miss and I think that says a lot.
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buggachat · 23 days ago
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legitimate question ....... why do people like to tell me all the reasons they don't like miraculous ladybug? i know i complain about the fact a lot, and i find myself on the defensive a lot, and i keep telling myself i'll stop and let it go, but it really is hard when people are always coming onto my posts, in my replies, in my comments, on my art and my fics and my text posts and anything i make, and telling me blatantly all the ways that they don't like the thing that i so blatantly find enjoyment in. "the show is bad". okay? good for you? why are you on my post about it? why don't you make your own? why are you telling me, specifically, this, on the art/fic/analysis i made that i assume you found by searching through the tag?
it's kind of a behavior that i legitimately don't understand. I'm a human being and I hate a lot of things, too. there are things i've loved at first and been disappointed by and have strong opinions about. there are things i like to complain about. so i'll complain about them to my friends or my family or my cat. but i have never, once, not even for a single moment, thought, "oh let me go into the tags of this media, find a positive post about it written by someone who's having fun with it, and make it that random stranger's problem". never once.
i just don't get it. i really don't get it. i sometimes worry that i come across like i'm heavily critical of people who just personally don't like the show, when really i'm just trying to defend my interests to the droves of strangers who are always coming specifically to me to tell me all the ways they hate the thing that makes me happy.
just.......... why? where does the urge come from? what do you get out of this?
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azzibuckets · 5 months ago
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want you for myself [paige bueckers]
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: some cute fluff where paige gets jealous of all the attention her brother is getting from you
a/n: i kinda rushed this so😭 it didn’t turn out the way i wanted
word count: 1.3k
masterlist
Normally, Paige loved how good you were with Drew. How whenever he started talking about school or basketball, you always raptly paid attention, asking questions and making jokes. She loved how gentle you were with him, how when he was being too loud you always managed to bring his energy down to a more appropriate level without yelling at him.
But right now, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how focused you were on Drew when you were supposed to be focused on her.
“And Dad bought me three new skins for my birthday! Here, let me show you all of them.” Drew scrambled to find his iPad, and for what seemed like the millionth time, Paige leaned into you, tugging your shirt sleeve at the elbow.
“Can we go now?” she whined. “You said we would watch the wolves game together.”
“Just give me a few more minutes,” you whispered back, not even bothering to look at her. “Let me see Drew’s skins.”
Paige loudly huffed. She was bored out of her mind. “The game’s starting in five minutes, you know,” she urged, widening her eyes to show her eagerness.
“I know, you just said that two minutes ago. You go on up first, I’ll be there in a few,” you said dismissively before enthusiastically throwing yourself into yet another conversation with Drew about Fortnite.
Grumbling under her breath, Paige went up the stairs, making sure to aggressively stomp to get her impatience across. When she reached the top, she turned around, but you didn’t seem to have noticed her attitude at all, eyes totally glued to Drew’s screen.
The Timberwolves vs Mavericks game started, but Paige couldn’t enjoy it without you. Her annoyance grew as she heard you and her little brother’s raucous laughs echoing from the basement. She clenched her jaw, wondering how you were more interested childish things like Fortnite (as if she hadn’t played that game for hours every night the past month) than a basketball game with your very sexy girlfriend.
Paige was able to ignore her frustrations momentarily and get lost in the game, but when Anthony Edwards scored a buzzer-beater three to end the first quarter and she jumped up and down, instinctively going to grab you out of excitement, she realized again that you still hadn’t come up. With a groan, she headed back downstairs.
This time, you and Drew were playing on the Nintendo, both of you fully zoned in on building your Minecraft world. “Hey.” You felt a flick on your head and turned around to see a grumpy Paige. “You just missed Ant’s best moment of the season,” she declared, hoping you’d feel disappointed at having missed the highlight.
But you only said, “Oh, damn,” before turning back to the screen.
Paige sighed and decided to try again. “He shot from full court to put the wolves up at the end of first,” she prodded, hoping you’d get excited. But you merely nodded before turning to Drew and asking if he wanted to switch to creative mode.
Paige switched tactics. “Drew,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I think your screen time is up.”
Drew wrinkled his eyebrow, not tearing his gaze from the TV. “I don’t have a screen time.”
Paige stepped in front of the TV, forcing both of you to finally look at her. “Do either of you want ice cream?” she tried, smiling hopefully. “I’ll drive us to Baskin Robbin’s.”
“I’m still pretty full from lunch,” you said, “but thanks babe.”
“Yeah, me too,” Drew agreed. “Can you move now?”
Paige begrudgingly moved aside, jaw tightened as she grinded her teeth. Returning back upstairs, she watched the rest of the NBA game in a brooding silence. She felt slightly immature for being jealous of the attention her brother was receiving from you, but she’d had a long day and all she wanted was to be in your arms, watching her favorite team play.
During dinner, Paige stayed quiet as you and Drew continued your conversation about whatever new game you’d moved onto playing. You were totally oblivious to her irritation of being neglected, thinking she was just sleepy. Paige perked up after dinner, thinking Drew would fall into a food coma and escape to his room, but instead he insisted on showing you two the clothes he’d bought recently.
“I saved the best for last,” Drew announced after twenty minutes of giving you two a detailed and intricate fashion show. He ran to the bathroom, then quickly reappeared in a neat black tuxedo, with a navy pin stripe tie finished with shiny leather oxfords.
“Oh my god!” you squealed, bending down to squeeze his cheeks. “You look so adorable.”
Drew blushed at the attention as you continued to shower him with praises. Paige’s mouth dropped as she glared at the two of you. “Are you serious?” she complained. “You never react like this when I show you my shopping hauls.”
You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend. “Maybe that’s because you buy the same grey sweatpants each time.” Drew snickered and gave you a fist bump as Paige fought back a smile, trying to mask it under feigned annoyance.
“You two are unbelievable,” she declared. “I regret letting you guys meet.”
“You’re just mad your girlfriend likes me more than she likes you,” Drew shot back, earning another high five and round of giggles between the two of you.
Paige made a show of getting up from her seat. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone since you guys hate me so bad,” she said dramatically.
It was almost 1 AM when you silently crept up to Paige’s childhood bedroom. You and Drew had stayed up gaming for hours, long after Paige had gone up to finish some homework and study. You expected the blonde to already be fast asleep, but when you opened the door, she was using her phone in bed.
“P?” You whispered, startling her.
“Dude.” Paige fixed you with an unforgiving look after recovering from her shock. “It’s literally one. What were you guys doing that took so long?”
“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, letting the door quietly shut behind you. “We were really getting into it.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Paige said, rolling her eyes. She plugged a charger into her phone and set it on the bedside table, clearly ready to go to sleep. You shrugged and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. But when you climbed into bed and leaned over to give the blonde a kiss, she dodged it. Ignoring your confused stare, she rolled over, turning her back on you.
“Woah.” You tapped her shoulder. “What’s up with you?”
“What’s up with me?” Paige suddenly shot up straight in bed. “You spent the entire day ignoring me. I’m starting to think you’re only dating me to become friends with my little brother,” she complained.
A small smile slowly worked its way onto your face as realization dawned on you. Paige hadn’t been tired all day. “Aw, Paige,” you teased. “Are you jealous of your 10 year old brother right now?”
Realizing how ridiculous the situation sounded, Paige avoided eye contact with you, instead concentrating on pulling the comforter around her. “No,” she said unconvincingly, her voice tiny.
“I know you’re lying, baby,” you chuckled. You reached over to cup the blonde’s face in your hands, giving her an adoring look. “You’re so cute.”
“Stop it,” Paige blushed, swatting you away. “I’m still mad at you.”
“Hey, I never see your brother!” you defended. “You can’t get mad that I’m excited to see him.”
“I know,” Paige whined. “But you don’t have to totally ignore me.”
You felt a slight pang of guilt as you thought back to how you’d completely forgotten about the Timberwolves game that Paige had been so excited to watch with you. Granted, she was excited about every wolves game, but still. “Paige Madison Bueckers,” you intonated slowly, clasping your hands together. “I am immensely sorry for the pain I have caused you today.” You planted a big and sloppy kiss smack in the middle of her forehead, causing her to groan and wipe away the slobber. “You are the light of my life,” you said solemnly. “The apple of my eye. My favorite person on earth.”
Paige pursed her mouth, trying to prevent the corners of her lips from curving upwards. “And?”
“Never again will I ignore you or miss a wolves game.” You hesitated. “Wait, can I take back that last part? You watch so many of their games it’s hard to keep up-”
Paige’s eyes narrowed and you decided to cut yourself off before you dug a deeper hole. “Nevermind!” you said brightly. “I will never again forget to watch a wolves game with my beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, incredible girlfriend.”
The blonde beamed up at you. “That’s more like it.”
You toyed at the collar of her shirt, letting your fingers brush gently across the soft skin on her neck. Looking up at her through your lashes, you said as seductively as you could, “Now can I kiss you?”
“Fuck yeah,” she muttered, grabbing your hips and pulling you in.
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jockbroski34 · 6 months ago
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The Bro Cap
Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.
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I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.
Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.
“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.
The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.
“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.
“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.
“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”
“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.
Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?
And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.
After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.
“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.
The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.
Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.
Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.
Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?
Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.
Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude
I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.
“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.
Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.
I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.
I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.
Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.
Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.
We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.
I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.
“Later, Moore.”
Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.
In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.
I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.
“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.
“Practice?”
“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”
“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”
“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.
As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.
My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.
No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.
Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.
Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?
I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.
“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.
“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.
“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…
“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”
“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.
“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?
“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”
As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.
“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.
“What hat?”
“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.
From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.
Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.
“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”
“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.
“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.
What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.
At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.
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theemporium · 9 months ago
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[3.5k] married life has perks that you hadn't ever imagined. and it came with duties you never considered to exist in a totally fake, accidental marriage with a three time world champion who was not what he seemed.
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As stupid as it sounded considering he had messaged his confirmation, you hadn’t actually expected Max to show up. At most, you expected the question for your address was just going to be him sending the McDonald’s to you with a note saying ‘just this once’.
So when someone knocked on the door a little past ten o’clock, you really weren’t expecting to find Max standing on the other side with a bright smile on his face and two bags full of groceries in his hands. 
You stood there, dumbfounded and blinking at the world champion in front of you. “You were serious.” 
His brows furrowed together slightly like you were the one being out of character. “Yeah, I was,” he said, waiting a few moments before he continued. “So, are you going to let me in or—”
“Oh, yeah!” You flashed him a shy smile as you stepped to the side, pulling the door open a little wider as he stepped into your apartment. You made a brief, noncommittal noise and muttered something about a kitchen in the direction you waved your hand, but Max walked in the right direction almost like he owned the place. 
Like he knew his way around your apartment with ease. 
The thought shouldn’t have pleased you as much as it did.
You glanced down at your attire with a frown, your cheeks burning at your chosen outfit but, in your defence, you really hadn’t expected Max—or anyone—to come over tonight. The shirt was an old one of your father’s you had stolen from his closet many years ago, the pyjama bottoms were from a Christmas set your family had got a couple of years ago and your hair was pushed back from your face in some messy hair-do that probably wasn’t the most flattering.
And definitely not the outfit you would have chosen if you knew Max was coming over. 
But you pushed down the urge to grab a hoodie or a blanket or anything else to cover yourself up, and instead made your way towards the kitchen. 
There was something oddly domestic about the sight: Max standing by the counters, emptying the contents of the bags as he murmured away to himself like he was accounting for what he actually bought. He was dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie (a Red Bull one, unsurprisingly). His hair was messy, dishevelled even, like he hadn’t bothered to put any product in it today. 
You decided you preferred it much better like that.
“Are you okay with quesadillas?” 
You blinked, looking at Max with raised brows. “You can make quesadillas?” 
Max glanced at you over his shoulder, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “You say that like it’s a hard dish to make.” 
“I still burn toast,” you admitted with a shrug. “So anything that isn’t charred is impressive to me.”
Max snorted, almost like he thought you were joking. It was embarrassing that you weren’t, and almost impressive itself that you had managed to stay alive this long by yourself after you moved out of your mother’s house.
“Yes, I can make quesadillas,”  he said, finally answering your question as he began to move through the kitchen like he belonged. “It won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes at most.” 
“I may starve to death by then,” you whined, a playful tint to your words as you pulled yourself to sit up on the empty counter space on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. “McDonald’s would have been faster. And I would have eaten by now.”
Max turned to glare at you, his eyes narrowed. “You hadn’t eaten all day. I wasn’t going to let your first proper meal be McDonald’s.”
“And you said you wanted to be husband of the year,” you murmured, returning the glare and you could see his lips twitching upwards. “Plus, I was too busy to even attempt to cook for myself!” 
“Too busy to eat?” He questioned, not quite convinced. 
“I got wrapped up in my work,” you admitted, feeling your face burn as he watched you closely. You waited for him to get the same look on his face—the one your brothers’ or your mother always gave you—that screamed ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’. But it never came. 
Much to your surprise—something Max had been doing consistently over the last few weeks—he looked intrigued, interested, fascinated. 
“What work was it?”
You told yourself it was a throwaway comment. That he was just being polite. 
“Are you trying to stall the fact you don’t actually know how to make quesadillas?” You teased, head tilted slightly to the side as Max smirked in response. 
“I can multitask,” he assured you. “I can listen and cook.”
“Max Verstappen? Being the listener instead of having people listen to him?” You let out an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Now, that is just unheard of.”
Max rolled his eyes, though you didn’t see the fond action. 
“Maybe everyone else just isn’t interesting enough to listen to,” he stated simply as he began to work, collecting the vegetables he had chosen and taking them to sink to wash. 
You watched him closely. “And I am?”
“Always,” he said, flashing you a smile over his shoulder before his focus returned to the food.
Despite his offer, you changed the conversation to something that was…well, more of a two way conversation rather than you talking about yourself and your work uninterrupted. Though, you pushed down that kernel of something warm and fuzzy and kept it hidden safe, even if his words were just a polite offer covered in sweet words. 
Around forty minutes later, you sat beside the boy on the counter as you both happily ate your quesadillas, a bright smile on your face as he began to retell some old story about him and Charles back in the karting days. Once you had both finished, you took his empty plate and waved away his offer to wash the dishes as you assured him you had a dishwasher that did the job just fine. 
Your back was turned to him as you loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher, not seeing the way his eyes drifted to some papers hidden under a pile of magazines. 
“Did you do this?”
“Do what?”
“These drawings.” 
You froze for a moment before you turned around, finding Max spreading a few sheets across the counter. Your body burned in realisation when you noted they were some of your more recent designs, the ones that didn’t fit the pretty box your professors and teachers wanted, the ones that you liked to just draw for yourself in between projects.
“Those are nothing,” you waved him off, resisting the urge to rush over and snatch them from his hands like a mad woman. “Just silly, little—”
“They are amazing,” Max interrupted, the sincerity in his voice knocking the rest of the words from your throat. “Like, insanely good.” 
You put your focus back on cleaning up, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted—almost pleasantly—at his words. You felt like you were moving in a trance as you cleaned down the counters and turned the dishwasher on before you made your way towards Max. 
His focus was still on the sketches, his eyes scanning every little detail like it was important for him to memorise it all. You don’t think anyone outside of your teachers had ever looked at your work with such…focus.
“They really are nothing,” you said to Max as you stood beside him, fingers tracing over the drawings like they were gentle strokes of a pencil. “Just some fun on the side.” 
“Charles mentioned you went to school for this. Fashion, no?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together like he tried to remember the sliver of information he learnt about you years ago.
“Fashion designing and business management,” you said, letting out a sigh. “I love it, I do. It’s just…” 
His attention focused fully on you. “Just what?” 
“Constricting, I guess,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. You turned to look at him, expecting judgement but there was nothing but understanding in his eyes. “I know in the long run these classes will help be but sometimes I just…”
“Want to do what you want?” Max finished, a small smile gracing his lips and it looked so pretty with his flushed cheeks. “I get the feeling.” 
“One too many team orders ignored?” You questioned, your voice light and teasing and you were glad when he laughed in response. 
“Something like that.” 
A few moments passed with neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t silent, it never was in Monaco. There was still plenty of noise outside: cars revving, people laughing and cheering, the distant sound of music playing from some party who knows how many streets away. It was never quiet in Monaco, but there was something comforting about the blanket of outside noise when you were in your apartment with Max. 
“Come with me.” 
He had blurted the words out so suddenly that it took you a few seconds to realise what he said, what he was asking. You blinked once, then twice and still your brain was confused. 
“Come with you where?” 
He paused before his cheeks burned a light pink colour, like he realised he hadn’t given much explanation or context before he blurted the words out. He cleared his throat, his shoulders looking a little tense as he tried again.
“Come with me to the FIA ceremony,” he said and, if you didn’t know better, you would have sworn he was nervous. Max Verstappen—three time world champion—looked nervous. “I mean, you’re my wife and…stuff.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And I want you there.”
Your lips parted in surprise, taking a few moments before the shock washed away and the questions started. “I—don’t you already have someone as your plus one?”
He looked a little embarrassed when he shook his head. “I honestly planned to go alone.” 
Your heart lurched a little at the idea. “Don’t you have to tell them in advance?” 
“I’d say a few days is enough,” he replied, a small smirk on his lips once again as realisation dawned on you.
“Oh my god.”
Max frowned a little. “What—”
“I only have a few days to find something to wear!” You hissed, your eyes widening as Max let out a loud, boisterous laugh. You slapped his arm, a wave of panic washing over you. “Max, this is serious! I have nothing!”
Max tried to fight his laughter. “It’s not that big of a deal, you don’t have to wear—”
“Yes, it is a big deal! It’s the official ceremony! I am the world champion’s date!” You said, looking at him like he had grown another head. “Oh my god, I am going to have to go shopping tomorrow.”
Max’s nose wrinkled. “Please tell me husband duties end at quesadillas and don’t extend to shopping trips.”
...
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...
“When you said to come visit you in Monaco before heading home for the holidays, this isn’t what I had in mind.”
The curtain pulled back enough for you to poke your head out and glare at the blond sitting on the purple velvet futon. However, Logan just stared back at you with an absolutely bored expression on his face.
“You said you didn’t mind what we did,” you argued back.
“That was before we knew we would be sucked into dress shopping,” Oscar muttered under his breath, his focus on his phone screen. However, Logan quickly nudged his ribs with the point of his elbow and the Aussie let out a hiss as he snapped his head up. “What? We are, like, the two worst people you could have brought with you.”
“And it’s not fair Arthur got out of it,” Logan added with a pout.
“Who else could I have asked?” You retorted, looking between both boys with an expectant look. “Plus, I want to spend some time with my best friends before Christmas.” 
“I know you are only saying best friends to butter us up but I have to say it’s working for me,” Logan admitted with a sigh, ignoring the way Oscar rolled his eyes.
“Charles likes his fashion,” Oscar supplied lamely before frowning. “But not…good fashion.”
“Understatement of the century,” you snorted before pulling the curtain shut again and surveying the pile of dresses you had dragged into the dressing room less than an hour ago. This had been your fourth shop of the day and you still hadn’t found anything to wear for the FIA ceremony. “I don’t think he would have taken so kindly to me asking him which dress he thinks Max would think I look the hottest in.”
“And we would?” Oscar grumbled.
“Is he still pissed?” Logan asked, ignoring the Aussie before you poked your head out and took even longer to get through the dresses. “I thought he was playing nice at the dinner with Pascale.”
“He did,” you confirmed with a nod, even though they couldn’t see you as you frowned at the orange dress you had just slipped on. Definitely not the right shade. “But he has also been forwarding me divorce lawyers and articles on American Marriage Laws.” 
“Yikes,” the blond muttered. “He really hates the idea of you being married to Max.”
“He is an overprotective brother, he always has been.” You sighed as you glanced at yourself before shaking your head, moving onto the next dress which was an odd shade of moss green. “I think a part of him just blames himself for not stopping everything back in Vegas, so he feels the need to fix the mess now.” 
“Do you wish someone had stopped you?” Oscar asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.
You paused, unsure how to answer. 
“It’s not like you could have stopped her, grandpa, you were in bed before the sun had even set,” Logan snorted, breaking the few seconds of silence as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 
“And where were you?” Oscar retorted. “If you were up, why did you not stop her?”
“I was busy myself.”
“Doing what?”
“None of your business, Piastri.” 
“Out making your own mistakes?” 
“Excuse you—”
“God, maybe it was a mistake to bring the two of you,” you commented as the curtain was pulled open again, and you stood in the entryway of the dressing room. You looked at them, your hands on your hips and a grin on your face. “If I had to guess, I would have said the two of you got married in Vegas with the way you bicker.” 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “As if I would marry him.”
“Uh, people would love to marry me,” Logan frowned before his attention shifted to your dress, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “Yeah no, puke green looks good on no one. Next!”
...
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...
“Holy shit.” 
With the FIA Ceremony being held in Baku, it meant that you and Max had to fly his jet out to Azerbaijan the day before. You hadn’t even thought about the logistics of the trip until after you had bought the dress and Max had sent you confirmation that Christian had managed to book an extra room at the hotel so you didn’t have to share with him. 
It was incredibly stupid for you to be so nervous about the whole event when it wasn’t even about you. Yet, Max looked the splitting image of calmness as he sat across from you in the plane, tapping away on his phone as he played some stupid game Lando had got him addicted to.
His nerves remained calm once you landed, his hand on the small of your back as he led you towards the car that was designated with taking you to the hotel. He was a gentleman all throughout dinner as he kept one arm around the back of your chair as he indulged in small talk with Christian and Checo. He even walked you to your hotel room door—though it was next door to his—and pressed a chaste kiss on your cheek and walked towards his room before you could even say anything. 
Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, was completely unfazed by the fact he was about to step in front of hundreds of cameras with his new wife.
You, however, were two steps away from shitting yourself. 
You had practically clung onto Oscar the next day, needing a sense of normalcy before you had to start getting ready. Though, in an annoyingly predictable turn of events, even Oscar wasn’t fazed by the upcoming ceremony and the award he was about to collect himself. If anything, he found your freakout to be highly entertaining before the boring trophy ceremony began. 
You had paced up and down the hotel room more times than you could count as you rushed around, desperately trying to look as put together and elegant as a last minute invite could. Your heart had been in your throat in the minutes leading up to Max knocking on the door. 
And for the first time, he didn’t look so sure of himself. 
Max stood on the other side of the door—a sight that made your heartbeat pathetically fast as the memory of him showing up the other night at your apartment came to mind—with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was dressed in a suit, his hair styled to perfection, and yet there was a flush on his cheeks as he took in your appearance. 
“Good ‘holy shit’ or bad ‘holy shit’?” You teased, though you tried to cover up your own doubt as you glanced down at the floor-length red dress you had finally picked after dragging Oscar and Logan to seven different stores around Monaco. 
“Good,” he breathed out, his eyes glazed over like he was in a trance as he took you in. “Definitely good.”
You didn’t even try to hide your grin. “You aren’t mad that it’s Ferrari red?”
“You could have chosen any colour and I’d still consider myself lucky that you’re standing next to me,” Max admitted, something sounding in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before you could ponder for too long, the boy cleared his throat and quickly offered the bouquet to you. “I know a boring awards ceremony isn’t exactly an ideal first date but….here.”
You took the bouquet with a wide smile, leaning down to smell the flowers appreciatively before stepping back into the room to place them on your bedside table. “Thank you, Max, they are beautiful.”
“So are you,” he said it so quietly that you almost swore you made it up. 
You turned back to him, mouth open and ready to say something before you paused as you took him in, blinking in surprise. 
Max frowned. “What?” 
“Is that the same suit you wore last year?” 
Max glanced down at himself before shrugging. “Yeah, and the year before that. And the year before that. And—”
You blanched. “You wear the same suit every year?” 
“I don’t see why I need to get a new one every year,” Max argued back, clearing his throat a little. 
“Max, you’re a three-time world champion. You are going to collect your third world championship,” you continued as you walked back towards where he was standing. “You should be wearing something special to commemorate the day.”
“I won the championship weeks ago though,” he said, his brows furrowed together like he didn’t understand your point. “What’s the big deal about collecting a trophy?” 
“You made history this season,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as though you were trying to size him up, trying to understand him. “You should be wearing something more special than a suit you’ve worn years in a row.” 
Max nodded like he understood what you meant but his lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Next championship, you can design my suit then.”
You blinked once. And then again. 
“You would wear something I designed?” You asked, almost wincing at how soft your voice sounded when you spoke.
“Of course I would,” he said before he offered his arm for you to take. “You have a year, so you’ll have plenty of time to work on a good suit. One appropriate for a four-time world champion.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “And you’re so sure you’ll win next season?” 
“Oh, I know it, baby,” Max grinned back at you, and something about the way he smiled made him look so young and mischievous. “Maybe you can make one of your own designs for yourself as well. We could be matching.” 
“Maybe,” you said with a smile, letting the hotel door close behind you as you tried to pretend like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest at his implication of doing this again.
...
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 372,947 others
yourusername 3x world champion and great personal carrier. would 10/10 recommend this verstappen guy
view all 21,930 comments
maxverstappen1 the stairs were steep, you would have decked it
oscarpiastri you would have
yourusername i take my thank you back
user SHE WAS HIS DATE KWEBFKBEFJWEF
user omg this keeps getting better
user it's like a fanfic irl
user the tiktok povs could never
landonorris you are so-
yourusername what did i do now?
landonorris you told me you picked the papaya dress
yourusername i said that so you would shut up
landonorris your wife is bullying me maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1 good
user i can't believe this is real
user THE FACT SHE POSTED HIM WITH THE TROPHY TOO
user has anyone checked on charles?
arthur_leclerc he is currently breathing into a paper bag
user ARTHUR-
charles_leclerc i'm glad your loyalties still remain with ferrari
yourusername well it is RED bull so...
charles_leclerc i am blocking you
redbullracing our favourite wag!
charles_leclerc i am blocking you too
.
3K notes · View notes
0o-junebug-o0 · 4 months ago
Text
Something New and Wonderful
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summary: Spencer has some questions he wants to ask you. Neither of you thought it would result in this.
genre: fluff and smut
cw: 18+ mdni! early seasons spencer (season 1 or 2), coming out, talk about sex and relationships, sub!spencer, kinda softdom!reader, dirty talking, praise, use of good boy, begging, couch sex, oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), gn!reader (reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit)), handjobs, cumming in pants, no use of y/n, autistic!spencer reid (because every spencer is autistic!spencer)
wordcount: 4.2k (I finally caved to writing this and surprised myself)
Spencer has been anxious recently. In the time you’ve known him you’ve never seen him act like this. You can see him gnawing on the inside of his cheek in your periphery. You look between him and the TV and you can tell he isn’t paying attention. He always pays attention when you watch Star Trek together. You’re halfway through watching The Next Generation and even though he’s seen every episode multiple times he always looks just as enraptured by it. But not tonight.
You’re concerned for him. Clearly, something is wrong and it must be big for it to be bothering him this much. After a moment of consideration, you reach forward to grab the remote off the coffee table and pause the episode. 
Spencer sits upright almost immediately. His brow is furrowed and he looks back and forth between you and the paused TV with a confused look on his face. “Why’d you pause it?” he asks softly.
You set the remote back down and, tucking one leg underneath you, rotate to face Spencer. He doesn’t speak but you can see the way his mouth contorts slightly as he starts chewing on his lower lip.
“You weren’t paying attention.”
“Yes, I was,” he protests weakly.
You shake your head. “No, you weren’t, Spencer. You weren’t even looking at the screen. You’ve been preoccupied by something, I don’t know what it is but it’s making you nervous. You’ve been chewing on the inside of your mouth all night, you only do that when something’s bothering you. And every time I’ve seen you recently you’ve been anxious.”
He pulls his lip from between his teeth. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry,” he says shyly.
“What? No, no there’s nothing to be sorry for, Spencer. I’m just worried about you, okay? You can—you can talk to me, you know that right? About anything?” 
He nods and you search his face for any sign that he isn’t being truthful and find none. 
“You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it I’m all ears.” You smile at him, hoping to reassure him. You really want to know what’s been bothering him and if there’s anything you can do to help, but you’re not going to make him talk if he doesn’t want to.
You can see him start to chew on his lip again but he notices himself doing it and stops, wringing his hands together in his lap instead. He bows his head and a strand of hair falls from behind his ear. You have to resist the urge to tuck it back.
“Have you, um, have you ever been with a guy?” he asks, still facing forward and looking down at his lap.
You tilt your head at him, confused. Is this what’s been bothering him? 
“Or–or anyone who’s not a woman?” he continues, nerves making him stutter slightly.
“What do you mean by ‘been with’?” you ask. 
His leg starts bouncing. “Like been in a relationship with. Romantic or sexual. Either.”
“I have. Both, kind of.”
He looks up at you at that. “What do you mean ‘kind of’?”
You chuckle lightly. “Well, I’ve dated a guy. We never had sex though. At least not by the classic definition.”
“Vaginal sex?” he asks simply.
You can feel yourself flush and you have to fight the urge to hide your face. 
“Yeah. We had oral sex though.” You intend to stop there but Spencer is looking at you so intently that you keep talking. You’re not sure why he wants to know this stuff but if it helps him feel less anxious, you’ll tell him. It just feels weird talking about the sex or lack of sex you had with your ex to the guy you have a crush on. “He, um, ate me out like twice, I think. I tried to suck him off but I wasn’t ready for that yet so I just gave him handjobs. Mostly we just made out though. Why do you ask?”
Spencer turns bright red and looks away from you, wringing his hands so aggressively some of his knuckles crack. You reach out and rest your hand on his shoulder.
“Spence?”
He freezes for a moment and turns his head until he’s looking in the complete opposite direction of you. “I think I’m bisexual,” he whispers.
Suddenly this all makes sense. “Okay. Thank you for telling me, Spencer.”
He whips back around to face you. “What?” he asks, surprised.
You cock your head at him, confused. “What?” you parrot.
“That’s it? You’re not—you’re not upset?”
“Of course not, Spencer,” you say. It seems ridiculous that he would even think that was a possibility but you know him and you know he’s been running the worst case scenarios over and over again in his head.
“Oh, okay. Good. Um, that’s good,” he says awkwardly, finally turning his body to face you on the couch.
You smile at him. “Why’d you want to know if I’d been with someone who wasn’t a woman?” you ask.
His entire face turns red and you have to fight the urge to tease him. “I was curious. I wanted to know what it was like,” he admits.
“It was good,” you say honestly. “We dated for a little over a year.”
“And you, um, are you dating anyone now?” he asks nervously.
“No. Why? Do you want to ask me out?” you tease, unable to resist. 
Spencer opens and closes his mouth without speaking and bows his head, fidgeting in his seat. 
Oh. You stare at him with wide eyes. He wants to ask you out? He likes you? Your world feels like it was flipped on its head in the best way possible. 
“Spencer?”
He lifts his head slowly, cautiously, like he’s afraid you’ll run the moment he looks at you.
“Do you want to ask me out?” you ask again, moving slightly closer to him.
“I-I, um, I—“ he stutters.
You plant your hands on the couch just in front of his knees and lean forward until your face is less than a foot away from his. You smile at him and his eyes widen. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish his sentence. When he doesn’t you can’t help but tease him a little. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
Spencer’s eyes widen even further and you can see his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. He looks adorable like this. There’s movement at the bottom of your vision and you dart your eyes down to see Spencer covering his crotch with his hands. You look back up at his beautifully flushed face with a knowing smile. He looks down slightly, clearly embarrassed. 
You can’t have him doing that, not when you want to see his pretty face.
You reach up and hook your fingers under his chin, gently lifting his head to look at you. “C’mon, baby, what happened to that big brain of yours?”
Spencer gasps and whimpers quietly and you have to fight the urge to kiss him right then as arousal pools in your gut. 
His mouth opens and closes soundlessly like he’s unable to think of what to say or even remember how to speak. God, he looks gorgeous like this. You notice his gaze fall to your lips and you crawl across the couch, stopping just before climbing into his lap, waiting to see if he's okay with it. You don’t want to push him or make him uncomfortable, that’s the last thing you want to do. 
Spencer’s breath hitches in his chest and his hands dart from his lap to gently grab your hips. “Please,” he whispers desperately.
You have to swallow a groan at the sound as you settle onto his lap, straddling his thighs with your own. His fingers dig into your hips and it’s a struggle to not grind against him. You reach up and tuck the loose strand of hair back behind his ear before draping your arms around the back of his neck. “Do you want to take me on a date, baby?” you ask. “Yes or no?” 
Spencer nods frantically, his eyes roaming all over your body like he can’t get enough of looking at you. The thought turns you on more than you can believe.
“Words, baby,” you tease. You want to hear him say it. You want to know for sure that he wants you. You’re also curious just how much he’ll surrender himself to you. How easily he’ll let you take control.
“Y-yes,” he gasps. His mouth hangs open and you can feel the rise and fall of his shoulders with each panting breath.
“Good boy,” you say, and he outright moans. Fuck. The sound goes straight between your legs. “I’d love to go on a date with you, sweetheart.” I stare directly into his eyes. “Do you want me to kiss you? Yes or no?”
“Please,” he whimpers. Unable to resist any longer you cup his head in your hands and pull him into a kiss. He kisses you back hungrily. Like he’s been starving for it. God, how is he so good at this? His hands twitch awkwardly at your hips before he seems to find a bit of confidence and slides them up to your waist, hiking up your shirt slightly. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his hands touching your skin. You’ve been dreaming about this for months. 
You slide a hand from his cheek around the back of his head, curling your fingers into his hair. You don’t even pull but Spencer lets out an almost pathetic whine and starts kissing you with desperate, open mouth kisses. His teeth nip at your bottom lip and you open your mouth.
You kiss him back just as hungrily, tugging ever so slightly on his hair. Spencer’s head falls back, breaking the kiss, as he moans desperately. The sound of his moan and the look on his face has heat building fast between your legs and you can feel your underwear starting to get wet. You pull him into another kiss and rock your hips against his.
His back arches and one of his hands slides up your back to press you closer to him, hiking your shirt up to your chest. The other slips down to your thigh, gripping you tightly just inches away from where you want him. You moan into his mouth as his hips buck up slightly. You continue to rock your hips and drop your hands to his chest to start fumbling with the buttons of his shirt without breaking the kiss. He gasps into your mouth as you unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. You need him now. You’ll have him in whatever way he’ll let you but you have to have him.
Eventually, you manage to finish unbuttoning his shirt and he leans away from the arm of the church so you can slide it off his shoulders and toss it to the side. “Please,” he whimpers into the kiss. You pull away and grind your hips harder against his dick, relishing in the way his head falls back and his eyes flutter closed as he moans. 
“Please what, baby?” you tease because he seems to like it.
His eyes open and he stares at you, his pupils blown wide with lust. His eyes dart down to your chest as he slides his hands to your sides, slowly pushing up your shirt. “Can—can you take this off? Please?” he pants.
You smile at him and grab the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. You toss it somewhere to the side and when you look back at Spencer he’s just staring at you, his hands hovering just above your skin. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 
The brief pause gives you a chance to look at him too. He’s gorgeous. His hair is messed up and sticking all over the place. His lips are wet and swollen and his face and neck are flushed red. He’s thin but toned and the only body hair you can see is a small happy trail leading down into his pants. You press your palms against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each gasping breath he takes, and rub your thumbs over his nipples.
Spencer gasps and his eyes snap shut as his head falls back with pleasure. His hands quickly find their way back to your waist and hold on tightly.
You maneuver him until he’s lying down fully with his head resting on the throw pillow against the arm of the couch, your fingers never leaving his nipples. He whines and gasps desperately, arching his back and bucking his hips, causing his bulge to rub up against your clit. You moan softly with each thrust of his hips and grind back down against him once you have him situated. 
You lean forward until your mouth is hovering next to his ear. You roll your hips down against his and press a brief kiss behind his ear. “So pretty,” you whisper. 
“Please,” he begs in a whimpering voice. “Don’t stop.”
You chuckle lightly against his ear before pressing kisses along his jaw and neck. “Of course not, baby,” you say. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
You move yourself down and latch your mouth around one of his nipples, pinching the other between your fingers. He lets out a pathetic moan as you toy with him. You groan in response and shift your hips so that each thrust rubs his dick against your clit. You can feel your underwear soak through and wetness sticking to your thighs. Arousal pools in your gut and you can feel the heat climbing up your back as pleasure shoots through your body.
“Fuck! Feels so good!” Spencer gasps. You pull your mouth away and start kissing your way back up his chest and along his neck, until you reach the shell of his ear. You nip at his earlobe and his hips buck up hard, pressing right into your clit and you moan into his ear. His hands reach around you to grab your ass and push you back down against him. “The things I want to do to you,” you whisper breathlessly.
“Please!” he begs. “Tell me! Please!”
You smile and nip again at his ear. “I want to fuck you until the only thing you can do is scream my name. I want to make you feel so good, baby.”
Spencer groans loudly. “Fuck, please. I want that. Please fuck me. I want you so badly. I need you. Please.”
God, the way he’s begging. You love how desperate he is, how needy. He wants you so badly he can’t even control himself. You want to see just how desperate you can make him, see how long it takes until he’s begging you to let him cum. You roll your hips against him, groaning at the thought and the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine—another time. But you will make him beg for you.
“Good boy,” you whisper. His back arches, pressing his chest against yours. You shift until you’re only straddling one of his thighs and reach down between your bodies to palm him through his slacks. His hands fall from your ass and scramble frantically at the couch cushion.
His hips buck up into your hand and a long, raspy moan falls from his lips, his eyes fluttering shut. “Thank you! Thank you!” he gasps. At the sound of his pleasure, you start rocking against his thigh, unable to stay still with how turned on you are.
You smile and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Such a good boy, using your manners.”
“Fuck! Please! Please!”
“Please what, baby? Use your words, remember?”
“Please touch me!” he gasps.
“Aww, but I am touching you,” you tease.
He shakes his head frantically and stares at you with desperate, hooded eyes.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Spencer.”
“Please touch my cock!” he gasps. The sound of him saying something so dirty makes you moan and you grind faster against his thigh. 
“Good boy, Spencer,” you praise, undoing his belt and slacks. “Such a good boy for me. I’ve got you, baby, don’t worry.” 
You slip your hand down the front of his pants and the moment your fingers touch his cock he whimpers pathetically. He’s so wet that your hand glides up and down him with ease and the thought that he’s this turned on because of you drives you crazy. His hands shoot up from the couch and pull you down into another deep and hungry kiss. 
You continue to stroke him quickly despite the awkward angle of your wrist, swallowing all the whimpers and moans he makes. His hips buck up into your hand rapidly until he’s practically fucking your fist. He pulls away from the kiss to breathe, gasping like he can’t get enough air. With each stroke he lets out breathy little moans that go straight between your legs. You groan as you grind against his thigh in time to the movement of your hand.
“Oh fuck!” he gasps. “Please! Please! I’m gonna— I’m so close! Please! Please can I cum?”
You lean forward and press a kiss right below his ear. “Good boy,” you whisper. “Come for me, baby.”
As soon as you finish speaking, as if he was holding it back until you gave permission, he cums crying out your name. His head tilts back and his mouth falls open as his eyes screw shut and his face contorts. And fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His thighs shake and his hips jolt as you stroke him through it, kissing gently all over his face and neck. “Such a good boy,” you whisper. “Did so good for me.”
You keep stroking him, only pulling your hand away once he starts to squirm. He stares at you with big wet eyes. “Th–thank you,” he gasps weakly, turning his face into your neck. “That—that was amazing.
You smile and press another kiss to his jaw. “I–I’m glad, baby,” you say, your voice catching on a groan as you grind your clit onto his thigh.
His hands slide to your hips and hold them tightly, moving with you as you rock against him.
“What about you,” he asks softly. “You haven’t cum yet. Do you want me to touch you?”
You gasp at his words and bury your head into his neck. Yes. You want that so badly, more than you’ve ever wanted anything. But you don’t want him to feel obligated.
“O–only if you want to,” you gasp.
“I want to,” he insists. “Please. Can I touch you? I want to make you feel good.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as a spark of pleasure shoots up your spine at his words. “Fuck,” you groan. “Please.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Spencer stills your hips and guides you off his thigh. You open your eyes in surprise and groan at the loss of friction, rubbing your thighs together to try to make up for it. He gently flips your positions until you’re lying on your back across the couch and he’s settled between your thighs in just his briefs. At some point while he flipped you he managed to get his pants the rest of the way off. He looks so beautiful. Your eyes trail down his chest to the wet patch at the front of his underwear from where he came in his pants. Your hips buck against the air, desperate for him to touch you. 
His hands rest at the waistband of your shorts, his thumbs just barely slipping under the elastic as he rubs soft circles into your hips. “C–can I touch you?” he asks nervously. 
You nod frantically and lift your hips as he slowly pulls down your pants and underwear. You curl your legs up to allow him to pull them off fully and his breath hitches when he sees you. He rubs your thighs and guides your legs back down around him. As soon as you’re flat on the couch, he reaches up to tug at your nipples and presses his thigh between your legs. You moan loudly, grinding against him, desperate for any kind of friction. 
“So pretty,” he whispers, sliding one hand down your stomach. It slips between your legs and you moan as he rubs gentle circles against your clit. 
You pant heavily, overwhelmed with pleasure as he touches you so perfectly.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, sounding pleased with himself.
“Yes! Yes! Please! Feels so good!” you cry, rocking your hips up into his hand. He smiles sweetly at you and your stomach flutters. He presses a kiss to your chest and slips further down the couch until he’s lying on his stomach with his head between your thighs, just inches away from your clit. He looks at you for a moment, gripping your thigh hard with one hand and continuing to touch you with the other.
You stare at him with wide eyes. Is he really going to eat you out? You never imagined that would be something Spencer would want to do with his aversion to germs. Part of you is worried that he’s just doing this because he thinks he should but that concern is swept the way the moment he whispers a desperate and needy, “Please?”
Your eyes practically roll back into your head and you nod frantically. Spencer immediately removes his thumb to wrap his lips around your clit. You gasp in pleasure at the feeling of his mouth on you. His tongue darts out and swirls around your clit before he pulls it back and sucks gently. Your hands shoot to his head, your fingers curling into his hair, making him groan against you. The vibration of his moan against your clit causes your hips to buck into his mouth and in response, he drapes one arm over your waist to hold you down. The action makes you dizzy with arousal. With his other hand, he gently presses one finger inside you. 
You moan loudly as he laps at your clit and slowly thrusts his finger in and out of you. “Oh, fuck, Spencer!” you cry out. “So good! Such a good boy!”
He moans around your clit and slips another finger inside you. The combination of sensations makes you whine desperately. Arousal coils in your gut and jolts of pleasure shoot through your body. You can feel heat rising up to your neck and you can tell you’re getting close. You’re about to tell him when he curls his fingers up and hits the spot inside you that you’ve never been able to reach yourself. The words disappear from your mind and the only sound you can make is a broken moan. Your thighs shake with pleasure as he continues with his mouth and hits that spot with his fingers over and over again. His tongue swirls around your clit and somehow you manage to gasp, “F-fuck, baby. I’m so close.”
He pulls his mouth away from you slightly but keeps it close enough that you can feel his breath against you. He continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot every time. “Cum for me, baby, please,” he whispers. “I wanna taste you.”
His mouth latches back around your clit and with a moan you come hard, clenching around his fingers and curling your hands into his hair. You gasp and tremble with pleasure as he works you through it. When you finally come down, he removes his hand and presses a soft kiss to your clit that makes you gasp before kissing his way up to your neck. You roll onto your side and move over slightly so he can slide between you and the back of the couch. He brings the fingers that had just been inside you up to his mouth and licks them clean with a groan. 
“Fuck, Spencer,” you gasp with shock. “You can’t just do that.”
“Do what?” he asks innocently but with a smile that shows he knows full well what you mean. He chuckles softly. “You just taste so good, I couldn’t help it.”
You can feel your cheeks burning and you bury your head into his neck with a groan. He laughs at your embarrassment.
“That was amazing,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “You’re so beautiful. I wish we could stay like this forever.”
Butterflies swarm in your stomach. You smile and press a kiss to his neck. “Me too, baby. You’re gorgeous.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I never want to get up,” he whispers, almost whining.
You laugh and pull back to look at him. “Well, you’re going to have to if you ever want to go on that date,” you tease.
He smiles at you and you feel your heart melt. “Where do you want to go for our date?”
“Tonight?” you ask, surprised. 
“If you want to.”
You nod. “How does Indian food sound?”
Spencer’s eyes light up at the suggestion and he presses a soft kiss to your lips. “That sounds perfect.”
______________________________________________________________
ok, so I've never written smut before but this was just tumbling around in my brain. hopefully I did alright
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capslocked · 1 year ago
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 3
[prompt: fingering] male reader x kim chaewon 2.5k words
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Chaewon hates that you’re actually good at this.
To be clear, there’s plenty more that Chaewon hates; it’s not exhaustive, just that bit.
She hates losing. Hates whenever anyone talks over her or doesn't give a second's worth of attention to whatever it is she's trying to say. She absolutely loathes it whenever her friends insist on complimenting her appearance when she doesn't have her clothes or makeup or hair or attitude down just yet.
But the thing she hates most? There's reason to believe it might be that her friends laugh at your jokes, or that when you roll up your sleeves and smile, they all notice things they normally wouldn't (and like it), even when Chaewon fixes them a look just this side of sour and scowly.
Realistically however, and Chaewon doesn't seem to mind admitting this part out loud - especially once you stop teasing her thighs with kisses that tickle the crease where her legs meet her hips - you really are good at going down on girls.
This, is absolute truth.
"Fuck," and "me," she breathes out, harsh little syllables coming with her fingertips knotting into your hair, right above the nape of your neck. She crashes down into the pillow behind her. Back and hips tensing - thighs all spread wide. She probably gives a bit too much, but Chaewon's the kind who gives, then turns around to take some more:
"You can-" is cut short when she gasps at the sudden, slow touch of a finger at the sensitive bundle of nerves atop her folds. There and back. "Ah - a little more, fuck, god. Again."
It's your mouth. The exact right movements - pulling and kissing, sucking gently, fluttering your tongue. Then harder and harder and harder, licking against the crease. That's what has her toes curling and feet flat to the bed. Little fistfuls of cotton sheets twisted up in her grip.
Actually, It's the flat of your tongue, soft and slick and moving on her clit in these long and languid sweeps that really makes the tears in her eyes begin to sting - like all that ache around her pussy is nothing compared to the one simmering in her stomach - like if only she could unwind around you a little bit faster and have her body turn to water and utterly ruin your sheets, she could catch her breath - and find her voice again.
You pull her puffy lips into a kiss, a devilish little suction, and her thighs press tighter and tighter together, around the sides of your head until you start to get a little dizzy. With a hand splayed open across her thigh - a tiny tickling gesture - you urge her to spread. Beg for breath.
Only to your surprise, she closes her legs completely.
"Asshole. Fuck," Chaewon sighs out.
"Did you think you'd lose me?" You kiss your way up from her hips to the flat of her stomach and grin into her skin.
"Was about to kick you," she rolls her eyes, then raises an arm and pushes her bangs off her forehead - wiping a sheen of sweat with the back of her palm. "No mouth."
"No mouth?" You cock your head, giving her an innocently questioning look.
"It's..." Chaewon is barely a hair's length away from what you expect. "Don't kiss me either. Unless you wanna make out, in which case actually, the answer's also no. I don't want to taste myself."
"Chae, you actually taste pretty good."
"Stop." Chaewon's sigh has a lilt, something obviously worried in the noise. Tucked into the shape of her half-lidded eyes. "I'm literally too turned on for this."
"So you want me to touch you."
Here’s to that what Chaewon doesn't say, "I want you to stick three of those fingers into my pussy and fill me 'til the knuckle and eat my ass while your thumb is tucked deep in my cunt. I want it to hurt, how badly I'm aching for you to fill and ruin and tear me the fuck apart."
She instead asks, "what the fuck do you think?"
"But no mouth," you repeat, slowly running your fingers down the creamy skin along her thigh, watching how she shivers when you brush a certain spot near her knee, and feeling a tightening grip on the opposite hip.
Chaewon groans a bit, lips twisting down.
"Can I perhaps, like, ask why?" you ask, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses into the flesh of her leg, down from her knee, over the curve of a thigh - but not, determinedly, into her where she's hotter and softer and practically melting, from all this pressure built up inside.
"Mind your own business," she mutters back.
You look. Chaewon's pussy is so, so pretty. Wetness gathering at the glistening, flushed hood. She's fluttering: desperate for the faintest touch. It's hard to imagine yourself doing anything other than making her writhe and gasp and wail on your mouth and lips and tongue, as your undoing - reducing her to an exhausted, sweat-drenched, wracked mess, the kind of spent that follows with long, long sighs and whispered curses under her breath.
With a fingertip ghosting touches around her cunt, Chaewon lets out an unexpectedly high-pitched whine. One that fades, bit by bit. Into an eventual murmuring - begging?
"Baby," you say, when you just can't resist. "I just want to make you-"
"I said, I wanted-I want-" and then with the pillow over her face, her groan, muffled, "look - it's fine. It's...great, even," is what you think she means by "amazing," but she continues, "you're literally the best thing I've ever felt, please. Fuck-come on. Keep touching."
You slow your hand, smoothing down the soft skin over her thighs.
And as soon as your lips cover her hole, from where she's wet and dripping and open, her hands fall to her side, pillow sliding into the corner of the sheets. "It's too good."
You're kidding. With a tip of your head, and your most self-satisfied little smirk, you ask, "too good?"
"Can you shut the fuck up, I hate you. I really fucking do," she says in what you figure was meant to be a dismissive sigh. One that's something stuck in a guttural moan and the squeak of mattress springs. "Please, you make me cum too fast otherwise."
You chuckle, trying your damnedest not to keep the mood going and actually get her to enjoy the moment - the best orgasm of her life, you want her to remember. To deserve the bragging rights.
“Odd complaint, princess.”
The stare she has fixed on you - over the space where her shirt is bunched up over the arch of her ribs - cuts right through you, if a bit hazy. And with her hands over her face, squirming her hips closer to you, she says, “don’t fucking call me princess.”
The implication is not lost on her. You let out an apologetic laugh, bringing your mouth, if briefly, closer to the peak of her hips and blowing a cold breath.
Chaewon just mutters something that sounds vaguely like, "fucking prick, just go back down."
Which is where she ends up. Or, starts. Because now she's lying back on the pillows with her hand slung across her forehead, leg up and bent and calf draped over the crook of your elbow, her eyes rolling back as you start to touch her - really, earnestly; work her up again, thumb rubbing the length of her clit. You can hear Chaewon's breath leaving her chest, in a broken pattern, until the sensations finally allow her to settle into one smooth inhale.
And then, slowly, just the length of one finger up to your first knuckle, the second - you slip inside her so, so easily. Then almost all the way. Her body tense, and her cunt, deliciously soft.
When you stroke and rub and slide your way back in, adding another digit, the noises she begins to make - your name, then god - sound raw, like a far-off cry and a drawn-out wail. There's a swishing sound whenever you get really slow and rhythmic, with the push, that turns slick-wet from the hot, milky way her insides get all sticky with her own want, before you can press more kisses into the bone of her hips and lap against the same skin - almost biting.
"Tell me if you want to stop," you whisper, the hot, humid breath of which does not fail to cause her spine to bend.
"Don't."
She's half-swearing, half-whimpering.
"Fuck you," is what follows next. As she wraps a hand in the hair around the base of your skull and pulls you close, right into her thighs and hips.
It's the small pleasures that have always gotten to you the most, the smallest, most vulnerable and unthinkingly personal acts, like, you think, when she presses the heel of her hand over her eyes and half-smiles, when the palm spreads out across the flatness of her stomach, as if, somehow, her whole self could not be any more delicate and devious at the exact same time.
And you are compelled, because of course, you are compelled: to be anything and everything Chaewon asks for in this moment, you tell her.
(Here's the embarrassing part. For her, really.)
You have your thumb tucked up along the muscle of Chaewon's thighs, opening and stroking a straight line from where your finger is still nestled all the way up the entirety of her folds, "so good and so," before circling the tensed point in a delicate, feather-touch, "tight, baby."
"Shit, oh, that's. You're." And all you do is hum, agreeing, adding another stroke and letting your lips fall into her open thigh. Your finger fucking her cunt a few times before twisting back and pulling out.
"You're making me feel so," and her whole body relaxes. Not only her voice. A shudder that breaks up her spine and spreads to her thighs, loosening. And looser and looser.
And at the exact same time she's saying: "hot."
Chaewon runs the pad of her thumb over her lip, bucking her hips into the flutter of your fingers. The soft, velvety heat of her cunt takes quickly to the slow circle-stroke, slide and curl, repeat, again. Her whine is longer, louder. More-so once her whole body tightens up once your fingers fuck into her, especially deep, in short-rhythmic staccato strokes, rubbing at her from the inside until she's shaking all over and can hardly breathe.
"Fuck, the way you're so-" Chaewon's heels digging deeper, "oh, deeper. Right there, please right there–."
This isn't even the worst of her embarrassment. When her stomach gets visibly tensed, muscles bunching and giving, and your free hand falls to rest on top of it. All this friction happening within her. Just beneath the surface of her skin and how that must be lighting every nerve along her spine and sending them all aflame, so overwhelmed and tightened, only relaxing in small increments whenever you move a bit too slow, to a bit more pressure - adding the extra touch, kissing her everywhere between her thighs, right into the dips between them. Close but not there. So frustratingly near, and she barely has the air left in her lungs to make a frustrated noise, but somehow finds the impetus to let the weight fall out of her body - let her limbs stretch open, give, release the tension.
Then all those incoherent twitching spasms: "God. Now-"
When the sudden ache inside her walls hits, it catches first in her chest, spreading out where the fist curling into the covers can't hide. "Right there, right there," she's panting, nodding her head in these tiny little shakes, rocking her hips into the movement and pushing them into your touch. And you just nod back.
Her orgasm hits her like a fucking lightning storm: blinding and thunderous, heavy. 
Chaewon simply cries out when she unravels, finally, and the sound is a little wrecked. Cursing your name, god's. 
Her hand is twisted in your hair, and she pulls, twists and wrenches, an arm tossed over her face when it feels like you're rushing, surging waves breaking all along her senses, the pads of your fingers pushing into the ridges, knuckles wrapping, knocking at her core, finger prints seared into her skin and pressing into that knot of pleasure, swollen and raw.
She just exhales into a groan and runs a palm down her face and throat, and breasts, rubbing a bit harshly at the tops of her shoulders. You raise yourself over her, until your head's just next to her collarbone, not speaking but watching how her breaths are slowing - the moment they become steadier, like a boat to shore.
You prop an arm over her, carefully, letting Chaewon twist her palm, finger the tips of yours. It's like listening to music, hearing how she laughs and swallows around this haze. Her whole body in the dreamy afterglow, writhing a little when the ache crawls back up through the space between her hips and she settles onto her side, curling up in your half-embrace.
"Oh, well. Look what you did to me, fuck," she murmurs. You can't help smiling.
"Too fast?" you ask, lowering your head, propping yourself up on a single elbow and gently placing a kiss along the top of her hair, tangling her fingers with your own.
"You're really annoying," she huffs. She tries her best not to blush, but the glow in her cheeks is quite apparent - especially once it reaches her ears. You laugh right into the top of her head, and she playful slaps a fist to your chest. "Go to bed, idiot."
"To think - you said you liked me."
"Said. Said, being the key word here."
When you roll over - slightly onto her and slip a thigh between her legs - Chaewon groans, and her hands press into your back. The touch is light. Practically nothing. Then you're grinning down at her, a sly smile playing in your eyes. "Maybe it’s my turn," she murmurs, "to make you squirm."
"No mouth?" you tease. "You might need the help sweetheart."
"Fuck that. Absolutely not." Chaewon rolls and turns until she's on top of your thighs, pinning you gently in place. She’s fixing her hair into a clumsy little ponytail, hallmark signs of impatience, that says, "if I want to suck your cock, I'll do it," she glares a little, but her smirk is turning the corner, and her whole face softens. 
"Shouldn't have laughed earlier, asshole."
(And here is the start and end of all you think you know, watching as she places a trail of kisses down your chest.)
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writella · 1 year ago
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The Confession
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Synopsis: Confessions shared with the wrong person gone so sinfully right.
Details: rick grimes x reader, afab!reader, smut—masturbation, unprotected sex, riding, both rick and reader being desperate in the dark. I made the exact reason for the confession and occasion very vague. 18+, wc: 2.6k. Proof read, but there might be some errors.
A/N: Not sure how much I like this one, but I had this idea back in early October and I wanted to finish it and give you guys something after a whole month.
I miss you, I’m sorry. Hope you’re all well!! With love from writella. ♡
Your voice is solemn and heavy as you sigh before starting, “I don’t do this very often,” you say, “I hope this is okay.” Your eyes lowering shamefully as you stop. It’s only the first sentence and you’re finding it hard to continue. It’s almost as if there are needles piercing into your throat. “I just feel so embarrassed,” you admit.
Then you pause.
No response from him comes after.
Only silence fills the dark and hallow space of the wooden confession box. Only your thoughts, every creak you made on the built-in bench, and the light wind that rustled from the cracked door were heard.
You wait a second longer.
Hoping.
But still, nothing.
Part of you was suspecting that Gabriel would have been more inviting, telling you it’s okay; and doing so with his kind and gentle voice, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t doing anything it seemed. You only saw the silhouette of his face when you walked inside— the outline of a nose and mouth, really. He seemed to be sitting as far from the small barred window as he could, but you didn’t dare look again. You didn’t even turn on the light fixture in the corner. Your fear was all too big, and his unwavering quietness made it worse.
Maybe you had come at the wrong time, maybe you interrupted him. You almost wanted to ask. But maybe confessions happened in complete silence… you didn’t know anymore, but at this point, you were hoping so. You had already wasted five minutes and managed only one sentence. Perhaps he heard the fear in your voice and was just trying to be a good listener… yes, maybe, you pretend as you urged yourself to start again:
You breathe in sharply, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The words come out in an uneasy, hushed whisper. “It happens a lot and I know it’s wrong. And you’re probably going to look at me differently after this, but I have to tell someone so I can stop.”
Your eyes screw shut, the next phrase coming out jumbled and continuous as you try to explain yourself quickly: “I’ve journaled about it and told myself it’s wrong but it’s not helping.” You start to weep, almost laughing at yourself, “I feel so stupid.”
You sigh and you almost think you hear him do so too, but you keep going.
“I’ve been thinking about someone,” you finally say. “For a long time. And I know it’s bad, I know it, but I do it anyway. It's all I think about.”
Another pause.
You catch your breath.
You wait.
But nothing.
So, you start again.
“I think I love him sometimes.” And if you couldn’t get any more timid, your cheeks flush, and your voice grows quieter, “I like his hair, and his eyes, those button-downs he always wears…” you smile at yourself, these were silly things, “Even his beard.”
And then you hear him shuffle, and a light sound is emitted.
It startles you, but silence ensues again thereafter. Maybe you imagined it.
“I like his kindness too. People would usually say strong or giving, but that’s what I like to tell him— that he’s kind. I think he’s kinder than other people give him credit for. He’s just protective. Everyone, and especially himself, we put a lot of pressure on him to make the hard decisions, but, really…” and there it is, “that's not the only way I think about him. There are things–” your throat tightens again– “ things that I think about. And things that I do.” Your eyes screw tight as you force yourself to say it, “I touch myself.”
Another bout of silence comes before the question.
One you’d never suspect.
“Can you describe it?” The voice asks, dark and curious.
The cool spring air of the night turns cold, but it adds no relief to the summer heat that burns in your heart as it begins to beat painfully. The texture in his voice, the inflection at the end that lined the sentence as a request, it rings through one ear and out the other and back again in a cycle.
You knew who it was.
“What?” You shriek so lightly as if playing dumb would help you now. He knew who you were talking about, you made it so desperately obvious.
“Can you,” he repeats steadily, “describe it?”
“I… shouldn’t.”
“What other better time could there be?” You can’t tell if he truly means it. His voice remains firm and lets out no hints of his true intentions, but despite doubt, you start anyway. He’s right after all, you’re in here because there hasn’t been a better time.
“I- I start by touching up my thighs, trailing up slowly… I always get so nervous… I never do it fast because I know I shouldn’t do it while thinking about you- about him,” you correct yourself, squeezing your thighs together, your hands gripping the bench tightly.
“But you do it anyway.”
“I do,” you reply meekly.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“I can't.”
“What happens when you finally reach all the way up?”
“Gotta touch myself.”
He puts his hands on his knees, making sure his voice stays leveled. “Where do you start?”
“Rubbing my clit.”
“Do it.”
And then you do. You truly can’t help it. Your fingers slide down your hips to the front of your heat, chilly fingers pressing up against your lips over your underwear.
He hears the little sigh as you finally allow your finger to reach your clit in between.
“How does it feel?”
“My fingers are cold right now, so,” a quick breathy laugh leaves you, “ good, really good.” You rub your fingers in slow circles, but your hand and hips jerk, forcing you to speed up, but you try, try to not seem so pathetic to yourself as if there was any attempt at going back now.
His voice’s a slight strain as he asks, “And what do you think about?” He starts to rub his thighs, feeling his cock stir to the side of his jeans, making the material feel tighter than it truly was. His fingers trail closer, knuckles brushing against his erection. He’s pretending like he can stop himself too. “What does he do in your head, sweetheart?”
“He watches,” you say as your movements speed up again. You really can’t help it now, his voice edges you on. Your hand goes under the band of your underwear, fingers collecting wetness below to bring up to your clit, “He’s standing at the edge of the bed,” you tell him, “he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and then he starts taking off his belt… He’s smiling.”
If only you knew that hearing how bad you wanted him was making him do the same thing on the other side.
You’re panting now, one foot comes up to the bench as you slide yourself over to press your back into the corner of the wall, your head tilting back as well, using the assistance to grind into your hand. “He thinks I’m pretty.”
“That's cause are.” He’s lowered his pants now and takes his cock out from under his boxers. Your words make his mouth gape and his eyes close as he begins to stroke himself. “You really are.”
His smile fades as he bites down on his lip lightly. You’re so needy for him and so desperate to admit it. It makes him feel powerful. Almost God-like, despite you both starring as the other’s tempter. So sweet and sinful the sounds you’re making are. How could he not give in? How could he not make you wet for him even at church and stroke his cock as it happens? You’re making it so easy with every whine and little moan you try to withhold. He could hear you getting restless, but he wants to make you want it more, “Keep goin’,” he tells you. “What’s happening now?”
“I put two fingers in,” you whine, “not big enough. Never enough.”
You let your two fingers stay inside you as you press your palm down on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the underside of your hand. You stop for a moment to take off your pants and underwear entirely, discarding it on the floor before you return to your spot. You put one leg up on the bench as you continue to finger yourself.
“I want him so bad.”
“How bad, sweetheart? What would you let him do?”
“Anything, Rick.” You say it louder than you intend, you’re losing yourself. “Anything for him.”
“Anything?”
“Everything.”
After that only nonsense comes out, simple sounds of desire and pleads. It was becoming too much to talk.
Rick felt the same. His hand on his shaft made quick and short movements, his lips parted and pink, more red on the bottom than the top from when bit his lip again at the words anything and everything for him. He repeated it in his mind, listening to your sweet little whines in the present. His head tilts so far back that it bangs on the wooden wall and he hisses.
It reminds him to compose himself.
Even after you let out another moan of his name, and he swears he could almost hear just how wet you are now, the squish of your fingers going in and out, louder and louder.
He swallows hard and takes a breath before he says, “What if I say I want you in here right now?”
That’s when your movements completely stop. You can hear the wind swirling again. You were speechless.
He turns to the netted window. You two can’t see each other but you know he’s looking. “C’mere.” He says slowly. “Now.”
And after that, your body takes control. Swift and instantaneous you move from your door to his, shutting it hard. You don’t even take a moment to look at him, it was too dark anyway, and that’s not what mattered. You’ve already dreamed of his curls, and the pierce of his blue eyes. You knew what he looked like. It’s time to know how he felt.
Rick takes off his shoes and fully lowers and discards his pants. Before he could even consider his shirt, you’re on top of him. You’re kissing his face, your lips and tongue missing his lips by just a little, but it doesn’t matter.
You begin to rock, your wet pussy making the length of his cock and thigh slick before it's even inside of you. You couldn’t help yourself and it makes him laugh, all cocky and proud. Something that you’d cross your arms to, even quip back at in any other situation but right now, it’s so fucking hot.
His hands latch onto your hips, his legs slide back to hit the wall. He raises your frame and you grab him. Your sticky fingers lace around his dick and then you both lower yourself down onto him.
You try to bottom out fast, but his nails dig into you, slowing you down. Your face reaches back with a pout and a whine as he says, “Wait,” even after he’s inside of you.
Your pussy quakes around him. You’re both trying to hold it together, but he’s faring much better than you.
His hand holds your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks and a tear falls from your eye, all the sensations becoming too much.
His eyes trail the sight as it rolls down and he tells you, “You’re right. I do think you’re beautiful.”
And he kisses you. Tongue slipping past your lips just as quickly as they depart, going to whisper in your ear: “Go on now,” he smiles, “show me everything.”
You begin to rock against him instantly. Initiating the kiss this time, your tongue slips into his mouth but his goes on top of yours. He grabs the back of your neck, deepening it, and you continue to take charge below as you ride him.
You squeeze around his cock tightly with every movement forward and you hear a strangled groan come out of him as his dick twitches at the sensation.
It makes you moan so loudly, you could wake somebody up.
But it doesn't matter.
You could even come right now just from feeling him inside you for the first time.
And it doesn’t matter.
“I've wanted you for so long, Rick!” You tell him.
He’s all that matters.
“You’ve got me.” He tells you breathlessly, kissing down your neck with his hand tugging on your hair. “You always could’ve.”
Now you know you’re all that matters too.
Your head tilts to the side, eyes closed, and mouth open for each pretty sigh and slight hiss that come out as he bites and kisses.
His hands lower to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it off. You start to undo the buttons on his too.
It’s fast and rushed and messy, but now your chests can meet. You press into him. Your hips are rocking hard. Your clit meets his pelvic bone making you whine and moan again. “Really good,” you say.
Rick’s hands slide to grab your ass, helping you go faster until they rise to your hips again. His thumbs press into the crevice of your hips and legs and he starts to bounce you on him.
You grip onto his arms, assisting him in his efforts. Your eyes are still closed, you’re smiling— already in a state of bliss, yet relishing in the fact that he was pushing you further and further into the dream-like feeling that was to come: your orgasm was close, and the string of airy moans made it evident to you both.
The way his hands move to caress your waist, trail up your back, roll over your arms, and back down again feels like gliding on ice. You felt him everywhere.
“Come on,” he tells you.
“I'm trying, I want to.”
“I know,” he affirms. He takes hold of your upper arms, letting his hands slide down to yours that tightly gripped his biceps and placed them on his shoulders.
You bounce yourself down on him harder, switching it up to rock on him and give your clit attention, then repeat it again.
Once you’re back to bouncing Rick takes one hand on your hip, helping you go faster while the other rubs your clit as vigorously as he can.
Your mouth is open wide, pants and squirms, and pleads coming out wildly. You almost feel like you’re making the whole box jump along with you as you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, and then… there it is: you shout his name and he speaks back to you, you both come together and ride out your high.
A glow emits as you smile, your head crashing into his as you catch your breath.
Then a noise erupts.
The church door closes.
Steps become louder and louder until they reach the open confession box door.
Rick puts his finger to your lips, silently quieting you both. Your eyes are owl wide knowing what the person in the next section would find in there. You almost squirm but Rick slots his finger into your mouth to stop it. “Quiet,” he mouths as the person next to you drops the wet garments they just touched, almost running out of the place as fast as they could.
You lower your face to his shoulder. Embarrassed, you sigh, “What are we gonna do now?”
Rick is unfazed: “Well,” he starts, picking you up by the hips, securing your legs as you wrap them around him, “we could do this one more time.”
He locks the church door and then walks you down the aisle and onto the podium, placing you gently on the ground. He’s standing above you. Just like it all your daydreams.
It was his turn now.
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st4rfckerz · 1 year ago
Text
give into us | gf!sam monroe x reader
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word count: 2.7k
warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, praise, mild knife play, pet names (nothing crazy), dry humping, choking, loss of virginity, breeding kink
summary: you're home alone and you receive a call from an anonymous caller.
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it was a brisk october night. the kind where you curl up with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and a scary movie. so that's exactly what you do. you choose to binge a few of your favorite horror movies because you have the whole night to yourself.
you put the old vhs tape into the vcr and start the movie. as the movie began to play, the phone unexpectedly started to ring. the shrill ringing of the old landline phone broke the peaceful mood set by the flickering old tv.
"who could that even be?" you think to yourself before heading to the kitchen to pick up the phone.
“hello?” you answered the phone apprehensively. there's a lengthy pause before an unsettling, breathless voice answers back.
"who is this?" the voice questions. you raise your eyebrows in confusion.
"who are you trying to reach?" you ask, a little perplexed that the person who called you was inquiring who he called.
a slight chuckle was heard on the other end. the caller was so excited to talk with you.
"do you really have to guess who I'm trying to reach?" his tone became very charming. this was the kind of voice that could woo people into trusting him "i've been trying to reach you all night." you hear a hint of desperation.
"ok, come on, who is this?" you ask sternly. you look at your surroundings, not seeing anyone around.
“who i am isn't important, sweetheart.  what you need is a little companionship - i can help with that.” he paused for a moment, the silence stretching between the both of you.
"you just gotta want me.” your body froze at the sound of his words, like though a switch had been flipped, in a way that you were unable to articulate.
"you're crazy." you scoff. you hang up the phone and return to your movie.
"freak." you mutter to yourself.
after a few moments, the phone rings again.
“you keep calling me crazy yet, you’re the one that’s talking to the voice on the other end of this phone.” you could hear the snicker in his voice.
"and you're the one that won't leave me alone." you snap.
"how can i leave you alone when you're wearing those adorable little shorts?" 
you pause for a second and gaze down at your baby pink shorts. whoever this was has been clearly watching you. in a fit of panic, you rush to the kitchen counter and grab a knife.
“your little knife isn't gonna save you doll, might want to think of something a little better,” he taunted, a dark chuckle following soon after. the sound made your skin crawl and you held the phone tightly, fighting the urge to hang up.
"why don't you just show yourself huh? don't be a coward." you can feel yourself getting more scared and nervous.
“show myself?” his voice shifted, any sign of cockiness gone and replaced with a cold, calculating tone. “you keep asking questions like that and you’ll soon find out just how brave i really am.” 
you hang up the phone once more and start dialing 911. the lights suddenly go out. you take a breath to settle your nerves, but the moment you do, a hand is placed around your mouth. your chest is securely wrapped by powerful hands, but you immediately wriggle free and proceed to flee through the back door.
running seems to clear the fog around your brain, the adrenaline coursing through your body helping you overcome the shock of what just happened. you hear footsteps running after you, gaining on you - getting closer and closer with each passing second.
your body slams into the concrete, your head slamming against the hard surface. as stars form and dance at the edge of your vision, you can faintly see a dark figure looming over you.
the mysterious figure holds you down on the ground, but you manage to escape. soon after, you sprint up to your room, lock the door, and hide inside your closet. he slowly began following you, his pace was casual but his movements were calculated and precise. you were his to play with now.
you hear the running footsteps come to a stop right outside your bedroom door. you hold your breath as you hear the handle of your bedroom door rattle and move, someone trying to open it. you stay completely still you can hear footsteps pacing outside your door - whoever this was, is standing out there waiting for you.
after a brief pause, the door to your bedroom crashes open, and the shadowy, cloaked figure slowly makes its way into your room before stopping in front of the closet door.
you keep your hand pressed to your mouth, the silence and stillness in the room giving you goosebumps. you hold your breath as tight as you can, your eyes locked on the closet door.
suddenly the closet door flies open.
"boo."
the masked man pulls you forward and holds you tightly against his body. his chest was flushed against your back. your muffled screams are covered by a big gloved hand. you struggle to fight back, but your hands are flying everywhere, hitting everything all at once. you become even more panicked when you catch the glint of a knife out of the corner of your eye.
“shhh i only want to talk. can we at least speak without you screaming?" his voice was low and husky now, but calm. too calm. it was unsettling.
while his hand is still covering your mouth, you regain your composure as you feel the knife lightly graze your throat.
"good girl," his voice a low purr against your skin.
the glove-clad hand gently pulls away from your mouth and clamps around your throat.
the combination of the cold knife against your skin, hand squeezing your throat, and the adrenaline surge brought on by your fear sent a strange wave of pleasure down to your core, causing you to subconsciously clench your thighs.
"we can either have a civil conversation or things can go a completely different direction, it's your choice." you can feel the knife dragging gently as it moves from your neck to the valley of your breasts. as he's drinking in your presence, he notices your thighs tightly pressed together.
"does this excite you pretty girl?" the knife moves further down your body and slips under your underwear. you shudder slightly at the sensation of the cold blade pressing against your warm cunt. you were fighting it, you were going against your own desire to feel something for him, but he knew. he could sense it.
"fuck you." you say through gritted teeth.
you received no more than a slight head tilt from the masked assailant before being thrown onto your bed and pinned down, completely unable to move. your vision returns in a haze, and as you gain your bearings once more, your eyes lock onto the face of your aggressor. his hand is still wrapped tightly around your neck, but you do manage to move your free hand to remove his mask.
the person you thought would never hurt you appears in your vision as your closest friend.
"sam?" your eyes well up in tears. you couldn't believe this.
"no, no, no, no." you sob. it was impossible to accept what was happening. you would never think he would do something so insane after everything you and sam went through.
“why’d you have to go making things so difficult?” he asks, his voice dropping from the menacing tone he was using to the casual, friendly tone he often spoke in.
"you know i just wanted us to be together.”
"sam you're being crazy right now, ok? now please let me go-" you plead.
"just listen to me!" sam yells, shaking you harshly. your lips quickly clamp shut as you look up at him in absolute horror.
“i-i feel like you’re fighting something inside. you’re scared but underneath that fear, you’re feeling something. can't you feel it?" sam's eyes were wild and blown wide. the only thing you could make sense of amid all the craziness that raced through your head was that he wanted you.
how were you so blind? how could you miss it all these years of knowing him? you were utterly unaware of how he treated you, how he looked at you as though you were the only person on the planet.
"i'm so sorry sam...i just didn't know." tears begin spilling out your eyes. his face softens, his grip loosening around your neck. he touches the tears on your face, wiping them away with his thumb.
“it’s ok, it’s just us now," the intensity in his eyes was almost other worldly. his stare seemed to pull her in like a magnet. "i just didn't want you to have to see me like this, but i need you to understand how much we need each other." sam spoke to you in a sugary tone that made the hairs on your arms stand up.
"i understand but..." you trail off. "this isn't right."
“yes, it is. don’t you feel how right it is? don’t fight this, it’s always been meant to be.” he moves his face close to yours, his free hand lightly brushing your cheek. "i'd do anything for you, i'd kill for you." his vacant stare almost gave you the impression that it had already been executed.
you lock your gaze on his, your eyes pleading.
for a moment, something about his face softens, a sadness passing through his features. then he leans forward, his lips pressing against yours.
it’s the most gentle kiss you’ve ever known, making your body melt against him as if he weren't just chasing you through your house in a mask with a knife.
"sam, i can't..." you speak against his lips. he pulls back from the kiss, his fingers still brushing against your face.
“don’t make this harder than it has to be. give into us. just be mine, you and me together. please.” his smile falls, and he frowns as he watches your expression.
you stare up at him and think for a while.
you'd be lying to yourself if you said you never had feelings for sam. despite the fact that you fantasized about being together and even about him taking your virginity, you never imagined it would get this serious.
this time, when his lips find yours, it isn’t gentle and tender. he devours you in a kiss that says ‘we are one’, his lips moving feverishly against yours as he pulls you against him, making you moan into the kiss.
“there you go.” he murmurs, his voice breathy with desire. heat spreads through your body as you press closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body and pulling you close. his hands find their way to your hair, pulling your head closer to his as he bites your lower lip and sucks it into his mouth.
your hips buck up to meet his, the newfound friction spreading a heat across your body. his mouth pulls away from yours as he lets out a deep groan, his eyes filled with desire.
his breath comes in panting heaves, his eyes moving down your body.
"you don't know what you do to me." his hand move over your body, caressing every inch of you with love and desire.
his fingers find their way underneath your shirt, making you press closer to him for even more friction.
your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the feeling of sam's prominent bulge rocking against your aching core.
sam's eyes are full of hunger and desire, his breathing coming in shorter and shorter gasps as he locks his gaze with yours.
a moment passes between you and then his lips find yours once more, devouring your flesh as his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth. you let out a loud moan, gripping his body tight as he continues to kiss you passionately.
sam pulls away again, his eyes searching yours before he speaks, "i need you." his voice a raspy whisper as his eyes drink in the sight of your body.
his mouth finds yours once more, his hands moving to your shorts, roughly yanking them off along with your underwear. his hands grip you on either side of your waist, the heat in his grip only intensifying as you feel him lean forwards, pulling you closer into his body.
you hear sam fumble with his pants before you feel his tip graze against your slick folds before sliding in.
"sam...it hurts," you whine, feeling a sharp sting as he thrusted into your cunt. sam was so big that you didn't even need to see his cock to figure out how big he was. you could just feel it.
"just take it baby, you'll be ok." he says breathlessly. with each stroke, sam becomes more attuned to your body's responses, adjusting his movements to bring you pleasure while respecting your boundaries. the pain begins to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and an intoxicating mix of pleasure and vulnerability. your whimpers of discomfort are slowly replaced by moans of pleasure, surrendering yourself to the desires you never thought you would explore.
"so perfect," his voice is hushed as he continues to whisper into your ear, his lips close to your neck.
"n-need more..." you mewl. the feeling in your body is completely new. given the fact that you had touched yourself countless times before, this sensation was you ever experienced. you can just feel how much he loves and adores you - it almost seems as if you two were made for each other.
"i know you do sweet girl," he whispers, his tongue finding the space between your neck and your ear, licking and sucking the skin with passion. "and i'll give it to you, all of it. you're mine and only mine." you want this, you yearn for more of his touch, and he wants to give it to you.
you begin bucking your hips up to meet his harsh thrusts. sam revels in your reactions, his own sadistic pleasure fueling the intensity of the encounter.
“that’s it, baby, you're doing so good.” he runs a hand along your back, the skin under your shirt growing warm and tingly.
sam's touch intensifies, his thumb pressing firmly against your sensitive clit with an almost aggressive force. the friction between his thumb and your throbbing bundle of nerves sends waves of both pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that elusive climax. every sensation seems to be intensified, amplified by the dark aura that surrounds you.
"sam- m'gonna cum..." you whimper. your fingers grasp the hairs at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan from him.
"come on baby, cum on my cock...make it yours." his breathing was shallow, and his speech was harsh. he places his head on your shoulder. his whimpers and moans grew stronger, indicating that his orgasm was also nearing.
and then, it happens. a surge of pleasure floods your senses, radiating from your core and rippling through your entire being. the world fades away as you succumb to the overwhelming intensity of your orgasm, your cries of delight mingling with the echoes of the room.
sam's movements becoming slow as a low, guttural groan escapes his lips. you feel his thrust become weaker, the fervent grip on your skin tightening for a brief moment. the sound of his release echoes through the room, his cum spills inside you, warmth combining with the heat of your own desires. a primal satisfaction overtakes him, leaving him momentarily spent.
as the ripples of pleasure subside, you find yourself breathless, spent, and oddly satisfied. sam collapses on top of you, fatigue weighing heavily upon him, and he lays his head upon your chest. you can feel his warm breath against your skin, hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.
the lines that once divided you into predator and prey are now blurred, and you start to see him as more than just a threatening presence, a constant reminder of the thrilling taboo that has bound you both together.
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papercorgiworld · 6 months ago
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Two idiots in love
A Theodore Nott imagine
I’m back! Apologies for my silence. Especially to the ones who’ve been sending me love, but I was really busy and barely had any time to open this app or my phone in general. I got this post and a few more coming in the next few days. I had a very productive evening and day so, yey me. Sending you lots of love! Happy readings!
— The request —
Plss do a Theodore fic where he tutors the reader in potions or something and he’s a bit rude but like sweet at the same time??? Idk like he thinks she really cute but can’t believe someone can be so dumb
— The writing —
Theodore was a quiet guy and not one to make a move on just any girl. Unless drunk, then he might end up in a bathroom with some equally wasted girl for a little make out, but actively searching for a girlfriend just seemed like so much work to Theo. He much rather just hang out with his friends and skip class to have a smoke. 
However, this did not mean that he was immune to having a crush. Oh no, he had a crush and the worst case of crushing. He was constantly thinking about you and stealing glances whenever he could. It wasn’t on him, you were just too damn perfect. It was almost annoying Theodore how amazing you were. 
“Hey, Theo mate. I have a question.” Enzo quips as he takes a seat opposite of Theodore and reaches for some toast. “No.” Theodore answers without looking up from his plate, making Mattheo and Blaise smirk, but Enzo isn’t fazed at all. “Fine. Your loss. I’ll just have to tutor (y/n) myself.” Theodore’s eyes shoot up to meet Enzo’s with a piercing look to determine whether his friend was bullshitting him or not. Enzo’s smile reveals his amusement but also that he was telling the truth. “She needs a tutor?” Theodore says with a calm voice, though there is an obvious hint of excitement in it. “Yes, apparently she blew her last potions test… like big time. And she’s so desperate to fix her grade she asked me to ask you, apparently ‘the smartest guy in class’ - her words not mine - to tutor her. I’m assuming you’re interested?” She thinks I’m the smartest guy in class. So she’s noticed me. She knows who I am. She knows I’m smart. That’s good. Really good. She knows me. “Theo?” Enzo askes breaking Theo’s train of thoughts. “Uhm-Yeah-I… I’ll think about it. If I have time. And stuff.” Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo stare Theodore with wide eyes. “Someone hit him.” Blaise finally speaks and Mattheo nods before raising his hand to smack Theo’s head. “If I have the time, bloody idiot.” Theodore pushes Matt’s hand away and narrows his eyes at Mattheo’s mockery and insult. “Just say you’ll do it.” Enzo urges and Theo looks at him for a second before nodding in agreement.
***
Pretty. Perfect. Potions-Peanut. Theo thought as he watched you screw up a simple brew for the third time, like he hadn’t just explained to you step by step how to do it. He was falling in love even more as you sighed and stared at your cauldron and back at your instructions. “I think I messed it up again.” Theodore chuckles at your sad and defeated expression. “You think?!” Theo jokes, but immediately worries that that might be a bit rude of him. “But uhm-do you know where it went wrong?” He asks and you focus on your instructions again in search of which step you screwed up. Your eyebrows knit together even more and Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. “You really don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?” You drop your head a little. Great, I'm making a total fool of myself in front of Theodore Nott. Not only am I ruining my fantasy of ever having a chance with him, now he and his friends will be laughing at me for the rest of the year… 
“You can’t be this dumb? Check again, you’ll find it.” Theo breaks the silence and your eyes meet his with a hesitant look, before quickly searching for an answer on the list of instructions. Yes, I just called her dumb. Good work, Theo. Theodore grits his teeth as his anger with himself grows. After a few seconds of you searching for how you screwed up your potion and Theodore searching for something right to say, you are the first to speak up. “I give up, I suck at potions.” You let the paper in your hands fall on the desk in front of you and turn to look at Theo who gives you a surprisingly sweet smile. “Yeah you do, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll explain it again…and better this time.” 
Your heart melts at his sweet voice and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You really don’t have to waste your whole evening explaining potions to me, I’m sure you have better things to do.” Theodore smirks at your blushed cheeks. “I’m sure I won’t be teaching you potions all night. At some point you’ll get it and successfully brew this… and then we can move on to more interesting subjects.” You look back at the papers on the desk and press your lips together to keep yourself from smiling like a love struck fool, while Theo's smug eyes scan your face with satisfaction. “Dumb, but so adorable.”
“What?” You look up at Theo and he looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.” He chuckles awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh. “I might be dumb, but you’re a first class idiot as well.” Theodore rolls his eyes, while an amused smile tugs on his lips. She’s right about that. I am an idiot. He reaches for the books on the desk, forcing his smile into a line. “Let’s just focus on potions.” You chuckle at his flusteredness. “Sure.” 
Both flustered your glance over at one another only to catch the other one already staring. The potion might not have been right, but the chemistry definitely was.
***
“Sooo, how did the tutoring go?” Mattheo asks as he catches up with Theodore in the hallway. “Great.” Theodore answers, but avoids eye contact with his friend, making him suspicious. “Great? What does that mean, she understands the material now?” Theodore chuckles and his tongue darts in his mouth. “No, she still doesn’t get it. Which means she needs another session. So, it went great.” Theodore explained, unable to hide his happiness now that he gets to spend more time with you. Mattheo just shakes his head in amusement. 
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sister-lucifer · 2 months ago
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One Must Stake His Claim: Prologue 
Or: How It Started 
[Chapter One] [Masterlist]
Nightbringer Diavolo + Lucifer x Male Reader 
Genre: ? (Hard to say, it’s not really sweet enough to be fluff or harsh enough to be angst).
Summary: The first sprouts of a rivalry start to emerge when Diavolo makes his attraction to the new human painfully evident. 
Content/Warnings: Slightly suggestive but not really, just some sly implications, jealous Luci, smug Dia, oblivious MC, MC is referred to with he/him pronouns, this takes place at the beginning of Nightbringer when there’s still tension between Dia and Luci
A/N: This is stupidly self indulgent. Literally just me indulging in a fantasy i’ve been marinating in for days. I know for a fact I will be made fun of for this /lh
NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY ERRORS!
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“I want him.”
The words come out of Diavolo’s mouth so suddenly that Lucifer nearly chokes on air. 
They’re said with such a casual joviality, yet they feel so heavy, falling from the prince’s lips and crashing onto the pristine white tile at Lucifer’s feet. 
“…Y…You what…?”
“I want him,” Diavolo repeats simply, “He’s quite cute. I’m inclined to keep him for myself.” 
He nods in the direction that you just walked off in, and Lucifer looks down that hall just in time to catch the last glimpse of you before you disappear behind a door. His mouth hangs open in a terribly undignified manner as he slowly turns back to Diavolo. The demon prince laughs heartily, patting Lucifer’s shoulder as though he’s just said something hilarious. 
“What’s the look for, friend? Are you surprised that His Majesty could ever find time for genuine attraction between lavish soirées and keeping his nose in the air?”
He laughs again, rather fond of his own joke, and this time the sound makes Lucifer’s hands tremble as they resist the urge to ball into fists. 
“No,” Lucifer forces out, “I’m just surprised at your…” 
He pauses, fishing around for the right word. 
“…audacity.”
There’s a brief pause, then, before Diavolo’s laughter resumes, even more raucous than before. The prince simply can’t help himself. 
“Oh, Lucifer!” he manages through his fit, “You never were all that good at hiding your true feelings. Tell me, what about that bothers you so much?”
Lucifer is silent for a long few moments—partly because he despises trying to talk to Diavolo when he’s laughing so hard, and partly because he’s struggling to find the words to explain himself in a manner that will save his pride. 
“You talk as though you’ve some sort of…claim to him,” Lucifer begins, but he’s not sure how to continue. The last few notes of Diavolo’s laughter stop short as he quirks a brow curiously. 
“I only mean that…I wouldn’t expect you of all people to speak of him that way,” Lucifer finally says. 
“…You lie,” Diavolo says slowly. A sly grin slowly splits his face, and Lucifer swallows hard. 
“You lie,” he repeats, “there’s much more to it than that. You can hold a stone face all you’d like, old friend, but your eyes give it away. You’re angry, Lucifer. Why is that?”
Something in his voice says that he already knows, that the question is pointless and he simply wants to hear Lucifer say it for his own satisfaction. When Lucifer is silent, Diavolo only presses more. 
“Are you truly worried for the human’s dignity? Is that it? I haven’t even insulted him, and yet you scowl as though I’ve said something terrible, as if I’ve insulted his entire lineage. You’d never jump at the chance to defend your brothers that way over something so minor, but you do it for a mere human, a species you used to feel only apathy towards.  So, what is it? Do you know something about him that I don’t?”
It’s a stupid thing to even imply, that Lucifer may be privy to any knowledge that Diavolo is not. The demon prince knows all that goes on in his kingdom. 
The silence that settles over them is heavy. Diavolo is smiling with a horrid expression of self satisfaction, and it only makes Lucifer’s scowl deepen.  
Finally, Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and he can hardly hear his own voice. 
“You have no right.” 
You have no right to take him from me, that’s what he means, I deserve him more than you do. He doesn’t say it, but they both sense the unspoken words hanging in the air. 
Suddenly, Diavolo’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes. 
“Oh, but I do, old friend,” Diavolo says matter-of-factly. He places a heavy hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 
“If I have no claim to him, then neither do you. Surely we can agree on that, no? After all, you’ve hardly done more than frown at him every moment he’s in the room. If that was your way of courting him, I’m afraid it’s failed you.”
Lucifer growls and pushes Diavolo’s hand away. 
“I won’t let you take him that easily,” he snaps. 
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Diavolo responds without a moment of hesitation, “I just hope you know what you’re getting into challenging a demon.” 
“You don’t scare me, don’t even try.”
Diavolo only hums in reply before promptly turning on his heel to leave. 
“In that case,” he says with a shrug, now standing in the doorway, “you should prepare for quite the spirited battle.”
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Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated. 
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azrielhours · 1 year ago
Text
I want you to rest
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 1.9k
Synopsis: Reader has a nightmare while on a mission w the boys. Azriel comes to the rescue, brings her to his room to comfort her. She doesn’t want to sleep so he stays with her through the night.  
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Rhys! You shouted internally, paralyzed in your nightmare and unable to rouse yourself. Rhys!
A horrible oppressive weight pressed down on your chest, and you were glad for the darkness in the room blocking any potential sights to further scare you as you tried to keep your panic abated. A sinister force seemed to seep from the corners of the room, and you couldn’t even tremble from the paralysis. It advanced further and you wanted to shrink away—
A hand rested on your shoulder, startling you—breaking you free from the immobility. You gasped, head whipping to find the perpetrator as you yanked your body up the bed and away from—
“It’s okay,” a voice spoke calmly. Rhys. Thank God. “It’s just me. You’re safe,” he soothed. You halted your scrambling, eyes wide. Rhys stood by the side of your bed. Azriel was close behind, weapons drawn and his shadows snaking across the room, seeking the invisible threat.
“I—I couldn’t move,” you choked, searching the room for the things you felt, the dread milling in the air. “I’m sorry I called you, I couldn’t wake myself,” you explained, turning back to face Rhys.
“It’s okay,” he repeated. “Don’t be sorry.” His eyes scanned down your startled form, how you fisted the sheets. You turned to look at Azriel in question. Did Rhys wake him too? Your face burned in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” your voice shook, and Azriel stepped closer at the sound, concern furrowing his brows.
The two warriors exchanged a look before Azriel spoke softly to you. “Would you like to come sleep in our room?”
You stared at him for a beat, trying to find the courage to turn down his offer, to gather any semblance of shame and stay put, but your head dipped in a bashful nod.
Rhys squeezed your shoulder, stepping away to walk back to their room. Your group was staying at an inn during a long-haul mission with you situated in the room neighbouring theirs. Azriel waited patiently as you slipped out of your bed, bringing the sheet with you, and he walked behind you as you followed Rhys.
In their room, Cassian sat awake in his bed; his eyes surveyed your form for harm as you entered the room. More embarrassment coursed through you, but before you could apologize again, Azriel placed a gentle hand on your elbow; “it’s just warrior instincts. Don’t be embarrassed.”
You nodded without turning, trying to suppress your shame. Cassian offered a warm smile and a wink before returning to his slumber, though you suspected his haste was a means to soothe your anxiety more than a need to rest.
“I can bring your bed here,” Rhys offered gently. “Only if you’re comfortable with that.”
You scanned the room, weighing your options before shaking your head at the High Lord. “I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight. I’ll just—I’ll sit on the couch til the morning. If that’s okay.”
Rhys’s worry was still visible, but he nodded, making his way over to his bed as well.
That left you and Azriel. You turned to face him, curious as to why he wasn’t retiring like his brothers. The crease between his brows was still visible. “You take my bed. I can sleep on the couch.”
You shook your head quickly. “No Azriel, please. I feel awful for—I’m sorry I woke you. Please, I want you to rest,” you insisted softly.
The Shadowsinger still looked troubled, and you fought the urge to thumb away the crease.
You stepped closer. “I really don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” you added. “I promise I already feel better being here. I’ll just watch the stars or read until the morning.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he dipped his head, reluctantly making his way to his bed, and you made yours to the couch. You did feel safer being in the room with the boys, but the vulnerability you felt had you tugging the sheet up further to self-soothe. After a few moments of breathing deeply to calm your heart, your eyes began drooping; but when remnants of that oppressive sensation trickled up, dragging you back into a nightmare, you snapped awake again. You clamped a hand over your mouth when a gasp escaped you despite your effort to be quiet.
Shit. It seemed like a long night awaited, and the last thing you wanted was to disturb the boys’ sleep. You covered your face with your hands, frustrated and restless. Should I leave the room? With your eyes closed, you missed the lurking shadows that noted your distress, that curled near the Spymaster’s ear.
Azriel silently rose from his bed and approached you. His shadows gently caressed your hands to warn you of his approach, lest he add to your fear by startling you. Your shoulders sagged in unexpected relief. His fingers gently curled around your wrists, tugging your hands away from your face. You looked up at him wide-eyed for the third time that night, a look that etched itself into his mind as he sat next to you.
You glanced at Rhys and Cassian’s sleeping forms. Azriel spoke softly. “I put up a shield around us. They can’t hear anything.” Your gaze returned to his, which was swimming with concern. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, but tears warmed your eyes. “I’m fine,” you whispered.
“You’re safe,” he whispered back.
“I know.”
“It’s okay. I get nightmares too.” He continued to speak gently despite the sound barrier up, and it somehow made it harder to keep the tears abated.
You nodded again, and neither of you commented as a few tears fell.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said.
“I want you to rest,” you said, but his offer was like a salve.
He shook his head. “I already made up my mind.” A kind smile graced his face, and if he was beautiful in the daytime, he was utterly devastating in the moonlight.
You didn’t have the heart to fight him on it. “I’m sorry I woke you,” you repeated, but your tears stopped.
His smile faded. “I scented your fear through the wall. I thought something happened to you.”
It was your turn to reassure him. “I’m okay. I’m safe.”
Your heart skipped a beat, finally not in fear as his gaze remained fixed on your face. You tucked away the thought of him being as comforted in seeing you as you’d been by seeing him before it drew up any hope in your heart.
Perhaps your vulnerable headspace inhibited your better judgement, but you reached forward and looped your hands around his elbow, tugging yourself closer to him. “You make me feel safe,” you admitted quietly.
His brows rose wistfully at your admission, fondness replacing any unease as he glanced at your linked arms. The relief softening his features soothed you as much as it tinted your cheeks pink.
“Are they really sleeping?” you asked, cocking your head in the direction of the other two Illyrians in the room.
Azriel grinned. “Not yet, which is why I put up the shield. Busybodies.”
You laughed, looking over their still forms. You knew they were feigning sleep for your comfort, to ease your embarrassment. You turned back to find Azriel surveying your face. “Thank you, Azriel. You’re the sweetest thing in the world.”
His head dipped bashfully, though you caught his small smile. “Most people find me intimidating,” he countered.
You shook your head, letting your adoration show as you smiled. “Well, you take my fears away, so everyone’s got it all mixed up.”
His look of reverence stole your breath. Then he chuckled. “Right. We’ll have to correct everyone, then.”
“Mhm,” you smiled cheekily. “We gotta tell everybody.”
You continued to smile at each other for a beat, the nighttime making it easier to bare the vulnerability at hand. Then you imagined Rhys or Cass turning and spying the sight, making you blush harder. “I still think you should sleep,” you murmured.
His teasing demeanour softened. “I’ll only sleep if you do.”
You playfully rolled your eyes but patted your lap brazenly. His gaze followed your silent proposition, then returned to your face, brows rising in question. “Bats sleep on their bellies, don’t they?”
He cracked another grin, nodding once wordlessly. But when he still hesitated, you continued. “I feel wide awake now, I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep. But I really want you to rest.” His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “Please, Az,” you whispered.
The edges of his mouth tugged up in an involuntary smile. You thought your heart might burst from the softer side he reserved for your eyes. “Okay,” he whispered, shifting to rest his head on your lap at the end of the couch. He brought his legs to lay on the remainder of the couch, wings dropping to either side of his body. Immediately, you carded your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails gently across his scalp. His eyes fell shut, and a breath of contentment huffed out of him.
You continued to stroke his hair, watching as he fell asleep. You truly intended to hold up your end of the arrangement, basking in his security while he willingly rested, but the peace his presence brought quieted your mind. You couldn’t tear your eyes from his face, the elegant planes softening as he was slowly lulled to slumber at your hands. His shadows began stroking down your neck and arms. Then Azriel’s hand grasped your ankle, and he traced gentle patterns into it, not letting up even as his movements grew slower when sleep claimed him at last.
The fear and panic from before were a foreign contrast to the intimacy soothing you at Azriel’s hands, the shelter he brought bodily and in spirit. You watched his back rise and fall deeply, watched the space between his wings, freed up by their spread. You didn’t fight the drag of sleep, not when the world tipped on its axis as shadows guided your heavy head down to the guardian angel in your lap.
~
Cassian woke to sunlight filtering through the room. He sat up, searching for his friends when he noted Azriel’s empty bed. He found the two of you on the couch before the window, and Cassian’s eyes widened.
Azriel lay across the couch with his head resting on your lap; your legs hung off the couch, but your upper half was folded delicately across Azriel’s back with your head resting between the base of his wings. One of your hands lay on Azriel’s head, the other clutched the projecting curve of his wing near your head. Azriel had one hand cradling your ankle while his free arm was snaked beneath your knees near his head, holding your legs to him like a pillow.
He couldn’t tell who was shielding who, with the way both your bodies rested on each other. Gone was any trace of the subdued panic he’d noted on your face the night before, no more wide-eyed fears or trembling hands. Even Azriel—Cassian couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen him appear so young.
When Cassian turned, he found Rhys wide awake, perched on his bed contently watching the sight of his brother letting his guard down, cushioned between your smaller frame over and under him. Rhys simply winked at Cassian, the two sharing a smile at the sight. Rhys held a finger to his lip. Let them rest, Rhys spoke in Cassian’s mind. The lovesick fools might finally realize how they feel when they wake up.
~
taglist:
@iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy
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lalal-99 · 8 months ago
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Sweet Thing {s.c.}
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9 “ That feels good…” 14 “Spread your legs, sweet thing.” 33 “Please, just let me come!"
Changbin x afab!reader | trope: strangers to lovers, regular hookup turns serious | smut | wordcount: 1.8k
Synopsis: You know nothing about the hot guy you've been hooking up with for months. You're not even sure about his name. Obviously, you need to change that. In the middle of sex is probably not the right time, but so what?!
Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18
Smut Tags: Porn with Plot | Explicit Sexual Content | Making Out | Hook-up in Bathroom | Bathroom Sex | Fingering (reader rec.) | Oral (reader rec.) | Edging | Overstimulation | Teasing | Some Dirty Talk | Slight Praise Kink | Dom/Sub Undertones (Dom!Changbin) | Mirror Sex
Note: Well, I don't know what to say for myself. The prompt event happened in March/April 2022. And here I am, 2 years later. Some requested prompts are still in my inbox, and I do think I will write something for each eventually. For now, please enjoy this one :) Also, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due ;)
Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness
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“Spread your legs, sweet thing.”
Against every fibre in your body, you disobey and further the distance to the unbelievably attractive man instead. Much to his dismay.
“Hey,” he tilts your gaze towards himself by the touch of your jaw. A sweet gesture, seeing you were heavily making out seconds before. “What’s going on?”
Hidden away in the small bathroom of your favourite bar, you find yourself perched on the counter. Most definitely the product of the alcohol intoxicating your system.
“Sorry—” you excuse yourself, wiping your hands down the sides of face. “I’m good. Let’s keep going.”
Expecting him to continue where you had left of, you’re surprised to find him leaning against the wall. “Not until you tell me what’s going on in that stunning head of yours.”
A light blush spreads over your cheeks towards your ears and your lip wanders between your teeth. Because the reason for your distraction is so stupid.
“It’s just, we’ve been doing this for a while.” Hooking up at this very bar every weekend for the past few months. For the life of you, you can’t remember how it even started. Possibly with a conversation and his hand on your thigh. Probably with a few shots while celebrating your birthday. “And I don’t know anything about you.”
“Which hasn’t been a problem until now. So, where’s this coming from?”
The first few times were fun. Hooking up in the bathroom, words limited to the absolute necessary. If anything, it made it even hotter. Being with a stranger whose name you hardly remember. But then the comments started. You don’t know which of your friend was the first to say something. It might have been Seungmin, questioning how you could keep hooking up weekly without knowing the first thing about him.
And now you can’t shake the comment out of you if you try. The voice is a constant tenant of your metaphorical head-apartment. Living rent-free.
“My friends. They’ve been asking questions about you. None of which I can answer.” Which is stupid, because it shouldn’t matter. What matters is the incredibly handsome and muscular guy in front of you. Changbin— you think.
You’re surprised when he doesn’t laugh at or dismiss their concern. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
Cocking an eyebrow, you look down at his hands as they begin travelling up your thighs again. Leaving goosebumps as they burn into your skin.
“Do what?”
“Get to know each other. Might as well play 21 questions while we’re at it.”
His lips brush against your jaw before he urges them against your neck. Checking the quickening of your pulse as he licks at the veins.
“Come on. Hit me.”
But you can’t think. His touches are a true distraction, moans tumbling out of your mouth as you finally spread your legs for him. He slots between them, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle.
“You do know how 21 questions works, right?”
His hands grope at your flesh, pulling you closer until you can feel him against your most sensitive part. Why’d you have to speak up? He could have been inside you by now, but you had to open your stupid mouth.
“Yeah— Just— Can’t think.”
“Fine,” he gives in, pulling at your lip as he kisses you. You’re so hot, you wonder whether you’re nursing a fever. “I’ll tell you three things about me, then. Speed things up. ‘S that alright?”
“Please.” You’re begging now, nails digging into the skin of his bulky arms as he’s dragging his clothed crotch against you. “Feels so good.”
“First one.” Changbin pulls your top up over your breasts, freeing your bra. His thick fingers brush against your nipples, forcing a shudder through your body. “I go to the gym five times a week.”
“Obvious—ngh,” you agree turns into a throaty moan as he nibbles at your left breast. Your panties soaked already as you mumble into the night. “Deeper.”
“I’m not even inside you yet.” His chuckle vibrates through your torso. Then he grazes his teeth against your second nipple, and you might as well have lost your head.
“No. Tell me— fuck— tell something deeper. Something not— not everyone knows.”
You’re entering heaven when his hand wanders down your side and towards the hem of your skirt. It wiggles below the fabric, setting flames to your loins. You’re burning from the inside out as this stranger handles your body like he created it himself. Knows how to make you go absolutely insane. And that’s with his clothes still on.
“I call my mom every day.” That definitely fits the category of deep talk. Although, the thought of Changbin’s mother doesn’t exactly fit the moment. “Number three, I’d like to take you out one of these days.”
When the tip of his thumb reaches for your clit, you see the realisation hit his features in real time. You’ve ruined your panties and he can feel it. He has ruined you, and he can see it. From your rolled-back eyes to your tossed-back head. You’re in absolute ecstasy.
Changbin thumbs at your nub, drawing circles with your own wetness. Smirking with pride like a lunatic.
“Your turn, sweet thing. Three things about you, then you get to come.”
No words describe the hatred you feel for yourself when you realise he’s serious. The trajectory of earning your orgasm is as much arousing as it is frustrating. If only you hadn’t said a thing.
“I’m—” You tumble forward as his middle finger enters you. And him? He cocks his head at you, playing confused.
“Sorry? I don’t understand you. Can you speak up?”
Asshole.
“Music,” you mumble, breathless. “I like music. Listening. Making.”
“That’s one. You’re doing so good for me.” A kiss swallows the whine as he enters another finger. Your walls are clenching around him as his thumb practically attacks your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not enough and Changbin knows. “I tell you what. Give me a second, and I’ll give you a third. Sound good?”
You nod, frantic, needing—nay, craving—another one of his fingers.
“I’m good— good at— oh, God.” Hands are clawing at his shirt, the black and red fabric almost ripping from the strength he ignites in you. Your stomach is tensing tight, and he slows down. It’s an alarming promise, Changbin threatening to leave you high and dry if you don’t give him another one. A second fact about yourself. “Maths. I’m good at maths.”
You’re all but howling when he enters a third finger and curls them up against your spot. That’s when you loose the rest of control over your body. None of your movements are under your own command anymore, Changbin’s the sole reason you’re even still sitting upright.
“That’s two. I thought you were good at maths. You’re one short of earning my mouth, sweet thing.”
The promise alone almost makes you fall of the edge. His mouth on you. Coaxing you to your sweet, sweet release. It’s not far, but Changbin is the only one who can make you reach it. You don’t doubt he’ll leave you on the edge if you don’t give him a third fact.
It’s unfortunate that you can’t form coherent sentences anymore. Let alone think of a third fact about yourself. Absolutely pathetic.
“Please—” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stare up at him, begging, pleading. “Please, just let me come.”
“Nuh-uh,” he teases with a smirk. A soft kiss hits your nose, then your lips. “That’s not a fact, sweet thing. Don’t you want to come on my tongue?”
Again, the thought alone has you clenching on his fingers. You’re so full, so close, and yet, can’t think of anything.
Maybe if you copy one of his facts, he won’t notice, right? But what was it he said? Oh, right. Gym, mom, date. But, you don’t go to the gym and you don’t talk to your mom daily.
“So, what is it?”
“Date!” you blurt out and he looks confused. “Take me out.” But that’s a prompt, not a fact, so you correct even further, teetering on the edge of heaven and hell. “I’d like it, I mean.”
Changbin debates for a second whether your words count as a fact. You can tell he wants to tease you some more, relishes in it. Thank God, he decides against it.
A sigh of relief escapes you when he finally leans down, pushes your skirt up and connects his lips to yours. And that’s all it takes.
One second his tongue prods against your clit, the next you’re coming on it.
And come, you do. You’re sure you’re squirting all over his face as he swallows up every bit of your release. Cleans you with his mouth until you’re glistening in spit and overstimulation. It doesn’t seem he wants to leave the space between your thighs and you have to drag him away when it becomes too much.
“Sweet, sweet thing,” he teases with a smile when he comes up, licking his lips. His hair is a mess, likely from your hands tugging at the strands and he looks like sex-on-legs. Cheeks dark pink, lips just as, and eyes blurry from arousal. He’s so, so hot, and you’re heating up again already as he’s kissing your lips with pure passion. “So, about that date…”
“Name a place and a time. I’ll be there.”
He chuckles, pulling you from the counter and turning you around. You will never tire from him, treating you like a doll. Bending and breaking you as he pleases. Those damn muscles flex as his arms wrap around your body and he pushes you up against the sink.
“We’ll get there. In fact…” he pulls your skirt over your asscheeks, giving them a delicious squeeze as he hums. Next thing you know, he frees his cock, reaching into his jeans to pull out a condom. And you wonder how Changbin is still so hot while wrapping himself in the latex. “How about you come three more times.”
You gulp at the thought, finding him in the mirror.
“One for a time and one for a place.”
That’s only two. You’re good at maths, or at least you think you are. Changbin might have fucked that brain right out of you.
“And the last one— one— fuck, you’re tight,” he praises as he enters you from behind.
Once he bottoms out, he collects himself, flicking your nipples as he watches you through the glass. And yet again, you’re a chaotic mess in his hands. With your head thrown back against his chest, you’re sent straight back to your own personal nirvana.
That’s when Changbin finishes his prior statement, a proud smirk glued to his face. “The last one’s simply for good measure.”
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Masterlist Leave your thoughts!
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bluee08 · 1 year ago
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Astr observations 《4》
Disclaimer: I am not an astrologer. This post is only for entertainment purposes, so whatever I have mentioned, if it is reasonates, well and good, and if it doesn't, then please take it with a grain of salt. Thankyou.
🛖 Aries in 3rd house may have a very reckless yet mature behind the scenes relationship with their siblings. They also fight a lot with their siblings for no reason. Surprisingly, this usually goes physical more than verbal. Very playful relationship. There is always a strong urge to hit the other person and irritate them to death. It gives them pleasure. When injured, you might immediately stop the fight no matter how serious it is and take care of each other. Oh, and if someone else dares to trouble any of you, hell would break loose. They can't hear anything bad about each other. In certain cases, this could also apply to mars in 3rd house.
🪵 Dirty mind, Dirty mind, Dirty, Dirty, Dirty mind~ Heard the song? Yeah it's made for those who have their personal planets or ascendant conjuct asteroid Prevert. Trust me, the dumb way to die is by sneaking a glance in their minds. You will be traumatized for the rest of your life and will never look at them the same way again. At any given moment their thoughts are always in gutter. Yeah I am calling myself out at this one. Do I care? No.
🛖 Mars in 10th house folks are really good at dancing. They dance so well.... like you can see the passion in their steps. Dancing can be one of the hobbies in their lives. These people can also be known for dancing professionally and being captivating as hell on social media.
🪵 Lilith in 7th house could indiacte having seen a lot of failed marriages in their life. This could be in their immediate family or even include their own parents. Hence these people have a really different mindset when it comes to marriages. They might even resent the idea of getting married and often question, what's the point?
🛖 Moon in 1st house are babies. Literally babies. Like they look so damn cute and adorable that I just can't help myself but give them a huge hug. They are the most genuine type of people I think because its rarely when what's on their mind is not on their faces. They look so innocent and naive (even if they are legit not.) People just wanna protect them at all costs. They bring out the maternal instinct for them from the other person naturally. But no matter what their warmth is the best comfort zone and their arms are home <3
🪵 Mars in 5th house would definitely be that uncle/aunt/cousin/sibling who spoiled small kids to death and taught them to do weird stunts and create a headache for other family members.
🛖 Transit Saturn in 1st house is really frustrating. It feels like you are doing nothing progressive for yourself and just wasting time. Your efforts go in vain and its really hard to maintain consistency. Sometimes you also realize what mistakes you are making but you find it difficult to correct them. Mental state is always fluctuating and self-confidence is very down. This mainly goes on until the very end when you realize that now you gotta be serious. But when you really do hardwork and break the cycle of laziness, it pays off. Its like an immature, careless kid suddenly becoming a responsible and serious person. Remember, our beloved saturn plays mind games with you. Its either you break free from this if you want the prize or pay the price.
🪵 The people that I have seen to be most likely get cornered, misunderstood and targeted are people having chiron in their 1st house. Its really concerning and hurtful. Because of other idiots these babies get hurt on a very deep and subconscious level. They occasionally have identity crisis and depression is their bestfriend. They try to be happy but life always seems to push something in their way.
For example, I have this relative of mine and she lost her brother a year before she got married. She thought if she starts fresh, it would help. But unfortunately turned out her in-laws were not good people. She was gravely misunderstood by everyone. Even if people knew that it was not her fault, they took great pleasure in gossiping about her, blaming her and literally named her a psycho. Which she is not ofcourse. She was just mentally fragile and instead of understanding her, supporting her, they made her more unstable for no reason.
🛖 Leo venus folks love Cats. They are an animal lover by heart and soul. They are someone who might stop their car in the middle of the road because they saw a really cute cat walking on the sidewalk. Just to go their and mingle with it while thinking, If only I could take it home....
🪵 Cancer moons in 3rd house, please, please stop imitating that baby voice just to butter me up and get your work done. You might think its cute but no, I can see through everything and its so annoying plus immature. Ofc now it doesn't apply to everyone out there but those who do, please take my advice and stop it. Usually I have noticed only underdeveloped people do this but until they realize, its too late and others already find them so annoying. Honestly Cancer moons are so smart yet sometimes they.....*sighs*
🛖 Nessus aspecting Mercury could mean that you often end up hurting people through your words or the way you communicate even when you genuinely don't mean it. These people are really misunderstood a lot of times. Also this works the other way too. For example, you get easily hurt or offended when people speak ill about you. They might just share their opinion on your new home decor but instead you would feel insulted when in reality that's not the case. Not that you would hold a grudge, it depends person to person but you will definitely not overlook that. It would just sting a lot for no reason. You will always wonder, why did she say that?
For positive aspects, this could work out well too, for instance they know exactly what to say and what not to. They can be great negotiators, entrepreneurs and social influencers. They also know how to handle people embodying nessus qualities like a troll or opposition hell bent on creating trouble. Hard aspect people will slowly learn to overcome their problems in communication with time and experience.
🪵 Mars opposite MC screams suppressed anger. The thick tension between their anger and self-image is unbelievable. They don't like to get angry in public. They often gulp down their anger to the last extent because they don't want their reputation to get spoiled because of it. Sometimes its automatic they wanna get angry at someone but end up swallowing it anyway. But please don't test their patience. They might just explode unexpected at any time like a nuclear bomb and destroy everything within their range, not caring about their public image whatsoever.
🛖 Lilith in first house/Conjuct Ascendant are the infamous bad examples of the family while Lilith opposite Ascendant are the good examples with secrets darker than nightsky- always holding their sanity with a single string. Ironically, both are siblings, two sides of the same coin.
🪵 Remember, in one of my posts, I said that I don't relate with Aquarius rising and their unique fashion sense? Well, guys, I finally cracked the mystery! It's not our fashion sense that's unique. It's us. We are the aliens. Ok, that was a bad joke. But really, for example, a few months back, I wore a very pretty dress at my cousin's wedding. And istg people were looking at me like I was an alien, like I wore something totally out of the blue. As if It was not something improper or overdressed but very different than what everyone was wearing, which, of course, was not the case.
Now the funny thing is, if it was someone else wearing the same dress, I don't think anyone would've said anything about it. And voila! It happened. A few days back, I attended a family function, and I saw a girl wearing the same dress in different color and design. And fr nobody uttered a word. Those same people overlooked her as if it was totally normal. As if they didn't just make me talk of the town for a whole week because of that dress. So yeah, finally figured out, it's me, I am the problem.
🛖 Its not always true when they say Earth Mars people are calm and collected. I mean they are but suppose you have a virgo mars but you also have a Leo or Aries or Sagittarius stelium, your Virgo mars will be crying in the corner while that fire stellium will create a havoc and burn down the whole world in matter of some seconds.
🪵 North node in 11th house people are so likable. They are that one friend who knows the entire school and vice versa. So many connections and so many new friends. They just keep making connections left and right no matter where they go. People like to be in their contact. This gives me 'popular girl' vibe.
🛖 You sneaky little thing, you think no one knows how much you love reading smut? Yeah you, I am talking to you, Scorpio Jupiter/3rd house. Look me in the eye, I dare you to deny this.
🪵 Mercury conjuct Mars.... man, they literally spit fire when they talk. Can't win any argument against them. Ngl, I told my friend that I would leave her if she doesn't keep her hands off me special mention to her love language that is playfully hitting me at any possible situation. She just laughed and said, "Go, nobody would take you." Me: Cries silently. Her: I know baby truth hurts. Lemme give you a hug.
🛖 If you have no positive aspect to sun in your natal chart, it might be possible that people don't like your personality much. They think you are too egoistical or full of yourself. They might also backbitch about you a lot. Now this is just what I have observed so far. So it may not reasonate with everyone.
🪵 People with Sun conjuct Ascendant make very great leaders. They have a king/queen Aura surrounding them. And when they speak or share their opinion, people actually listen and take them seriously. When they walk in a room, they make sure everyone knows who has the authority.
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