#and it was soon after that i woke up and i was like

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (29/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Another glimpse of Charles' mind - and honey, that boy is down bad.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of dry humping, sex and oral sex), angst, but make it hot

Word Count: 3k

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A/N: LETS FUCKING GO LANDO!!! CHEERS BABE I LOVE YOU! feedback is appreciated!

Charles is so glad to be sitting in the rickety Renault again. He can feel the individual springs through the thin fabric of the seat and the few cracks in the steering wheel feel wonderfully familiar in his calloused hands. As soon as you both arrive at his mother's house, he would text Andrea and thank him for picking up the car with him at the old apartment.

It takes immense willpower for him to let his hand rest either on the gear stick between you or on the steering wheel, because he'd love to slide his ringed fingers over the fabric of your jeans on your thigh. Or hold your hand. Touch you somehow. 

It's as if he's addicted to your touch. As if the warmth of your skin, the softness of your body were a drug that he couldn't get enough of after the first real contact. And all he can think about is how good your skin felt against his. 

He regrets a little that the first time was in a terrible situation that both he and you would like to forget. He remembers how your body shook as you lay on your bed in just your underwear and cried. How you didn't even realize Charles had entered the room because literally everything was out of control. And for sure, after what he did and the words he threw at you, Charles had no right to comfort you and hold you in his arms. 

And although his head warned him to stay away from you, his body fought back and, without hesitation, lay with you, pulled you close and held you while you cried yourself to sleep. And when you sobbed his name, with a broken voice and a deep-seated, audible pain, his brain had completely shut down, which is why he couldn't say anything other than "I'm here as long as you'll let me".  

But he had already realized beforehand that there would be no turning back. He already knew at dinner with his friends that all he would ever want would be you as soon as you touched him. When you pressed your leg against his to show him that you were there for him, when he was asked about Annika, and for a moment it felt as if he had caught a spark of fire and it had sunk through his jeans and burnt him. But it was just the warmth of your skin that he could feel despite the layers of fabric. And when he wasn't sure if it was actually you, he'd suggested sharing the tiramisu so he could be closer to you. 

And when he not-so-accidentally pressed his chest against your back to reach the tiramisu in your hand, he got so warm he thought he was going to have a heat stroke. 

He had a similar experience the night he woke up because you breathed his name in your sleep and pressed your butt against him. The morning when he had to flee from bed because he feared he would provoke a heart attack if he allowed you to rub against him and then had to suppress his urge to touch you. There's no question that he was only thinking about you in the shower when he touched himself. 

But nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. When he wrapped his arm around you and intertwined your fingers to show you that he was there for you. The warmth he'd felt earlier through the clothes you'd been wearing had been pleasant. Your skin on his felt more like a burn, as if he'd put his hand on a hotplate that was switched on, as if he'd been lying in the sun too long without sunscreen and got burnt. As if you were the sun he got too close to. You burned into his skin with your touch - and never in his life has he loved heat as much as he did at that moment. 

That night, he held you as tightly as if he could suck the pain from your body and absorb it into himself. True, Charles had struggled just as much after realizing that the man who hurt the woman in his arms was the very man his own girlfriend had cheated on him with, but he'd swallowed that and shrugged it off the moment he'd seen the fear in your eyes as he climbed the steps to the apartment and saw you both standing in the hallway. 

You had been his priority and he wanted to protect you as best he could, even if he couldn't undo any of what had happened. He can't change the fact that Raphael betrayed you and he can't take away the pain that this breach of trust caused you. He can't undo the fact that he said all those cruel things to you because he was jealous of Lando, because you took him to your heart so quickly - who you touched without hesitation - and he couldn't keep his feelings under control. Charles can't change any of that. 

But the night he held you while you cried all the tears you had inside you, he vowed to protect you from anything that could hurt you. He swore to take care of you as best he could and to make your life easier if he could. He swore that he would never be the cause of your pain again. 

And even though your touch feels like a warm sunburn to him, like a hot ray of sunshine and like happiness itself, he vowed to see you as none other than his girlfriend, his roommate, who deserves far better than a jealous Charles who can't give you what you need to be happy. 

He can't assure you that he'll always be there for you when you need him. His job doesn't allow that. There's no way he can always be with you to hold you when you're sad. It's so incredibly unfair to ask you to wait for him. He can't give you the time the both of you need to build an adult, good and above all healthy relationship. And it would be irresponsible to plunge you into this life where the public would run their mouths about the couple just because you were a couple. He would give you anything you asked of him, but never would he put you in a situation that would hurt you.

He would protect you. The girl who lay quietly in his arms and cried until she fell asleep. The girl who turned his whole world upside down in the space of a few days. The girl who his mother thought was his girlfriend, which he didn't want to correct because he secretly wished that was the reality. 

The girl who was gracious enough to forgive him for his actions and stayed by his side despite his name and the hurdles his friendship would bring, even insisting on staying there come what may. The girl who helped him move on from his toxic relationship with his ex by burning it all. 

The night had been cleansing. With each piece of the relationship you both threw into the flames, the weight on Charles' shoulders lightened until it disappeared completely with the last burnt petal. He thought it was only fair to tell you that Raphael was the guy who had destroyed both your relationship and his. And although Charles could tell you were more upset by this fact than you might like to admit, he felt closer to you than ever before. 

You promised him that there would be a soulmate for him in this world. Someone with whom he doesn't have to pretend and can be who he really is. And after his body once again asserted itself against his brain and pulled you on top of him so that you could cuddle - strictly as friends - you fell asleep on top of him. And while he scratched your head, felt your warm breath on his neck and enjoyed the weight of your body on his, he wondered why he got the feeling that he had already found this person when he looked at you.

"Is she asleep?" Joris asked quietly and stood in front of the fire bowl, his hands outstretched to get some warmth. Charles nodded barely perceptibly. He would never risk you waking up and pulling away from him because of one of his movements. His heart couldn't take that. 

"Yes," he breathes without sound. 

Joris looks into the fire. "She's good for you. And you seem to be good for her too." When Charles looks at him, a little confused, Joris shrugs. "She just said to me that you're her best friend."

Charles couldn't explain why his heart momentarily stopped working, only to break into many pieces on the next beat. Although he had decided for himself not to let your relationship go any further than a friendship would allow, and the constant closeness and constant touching was certainly not exactly conducive to that, somewhere deep inside Charles had had a small spark of hope that perhaps something else could become of you at some point. 

But that spark had gone out. 

Charles avoided his oldest friend's gaze, staring into the blazing flames. Why did it hurt him so much? Wasn't that exactly what he wanted?

"Charles?" Joris tried to catch the Monegasque's gaze, but he stubbornly refused to look away from the fire. "Do you love her?" 

Charles didn't know whether it was the hot fire in front of him that was making his eyes water. He felt the drops burn on his lash line before he blinked and they rolled painfully down his cheek like acid. 

He didn't look at Joris. 

Best friend. Two words and a bitter aftertaste that stuck so disgustingly to his tongue when he said them to your face. They made his stomach ache and he would have liked to break away from you so he wouldn't have to endure it anymore. But he is your best friend. And he swore to himself that he would never hurt you again. So he can't help but endure this burning closeness, this torture of being with you but not being able to do anything. 

He fell asleep with you, body pressed against body, and he would endure that heat for all time if it meant you were safe. And even though he was aware of the fact that he was nothing more to you than your best friend, that didn't stop his heart from doing a little skip when he tried to break away from you to go jogging and you wrapped yourself around his arm. 

He blamed it on your tiredness, that you wanted to keep him there. That you weren't in your right mind when you reminded him that it was his suggestion to share a bed because it would help you sleep better, and then you kissed his bare chest. Kissed. 

His brain, which must have had a bit of a lapse as a result, didn't seem to be working properly when he admitted that he'd even said he'd always hold her in his arms. And it wasn't working properly when you wrapped your leg around his waist to pull him closer to you. It seemed like a miracle that he had finally managed to pull away from you and get dressed after all.

First the left sock, then the right. The shirt is on the -

When you wrapped your arms around him and called him Sharl, it was over. Something inside him had short-circuited. He's not even sure what exactly he said to you anymore. The only thing he remembers is how he pulled you onto his lap. How he hoped you'd give him a sign so he could give you back some of what he'd stopped dreaming about. 

And you moaned his name as he rocked you over his erection. Clinging to him like he was all you would ever need. Charles would have loved to throw you back on the bed - the bed you share as friends - and kiss you. He would have undressed you and let his mouth roam over your body, hoping that his touch would burn on your skin as much as yours burns on his. He would have devoured you, latching his mouth onto your pussy and tasting you until you came on his tongue. You would have clawed your fingers in his hair, rubbed your pussy against his mouth and moaned his name. And then he would have taken you, slowly at first so you'd get used to him, and meanwhile he would have kissed you so you could taste yourself on his tongue before he ruined you for any men who might come after him who weren't your best friend. 

But the only thing he could do was cup your chin and make you look at him while you moved back and forth on his hard-on yourself. He would never forget the look in your eyes, that pleading look as his cock bumped against your clit and lightning flashed through his veins, electrifying him. 

You begged him and he vowed to give you anything that would make you happy. And if that meant splitting you in half and making you come on his tongue, his fingers and his cock so many times until you couldn't remember his name or your own, he would have given it to you without hesitation.

And then his fucking phone rang.

He would have loved to slam it against the wall and kill Andrea for interrupting that moment. But when you slipped off his lap, he dressed quickly and his blood rushed back into his brain, he was even a little grateful. What if you had slept together and you hadn't wanted to be friends with him afterwards?

He was so happy when you reassured him that everything was fine between you. And he would have loved to hug you, but somehow it didn't seem right for him to be so close to you after you dry humped. So he let it go and went for a jog, relieved that Andrea had so much to talk about with him. 

The more he talked about Ferrari, his training and the upcoming trip, the less he had to think about you while running. 

But when he walked into the apartment with full shopping bags and Andrea in tow and saw you standing in the hallway all dressed up, all his blood went south again. The jeans that accentuated your every curve to the extreme and the top with a slight neckline that he wanted to pull over your head. 

The fact that Andrea had to leave quickly played into his cards and the fact that he had to take a shower was also ideal, because he wouldn't have been able to hide his boner, which was certainly visible through the shorts, for much longer. In the shower he had sorted the situation out, biting his lower lip as his hand closed around his cock, imagining it was yours. 

"Charles, please," your voice echoed in his mind, and in circumstances where he'd actually slept with you, he would have been ashamed of himself for coming within two minutes. But he felt better and was ready to look you in the eye again after imagining you pressing your tongue flat against the tip of his cock. 

What also helped him keep his blood where it belonged - in his brain - was leaving the bathroom and hearing his British friend's voice. 

He also doesn't know what got into him when he rested his chin on your shoulder to make it clear that you belonged to him. Which, by the way, is not true either. Only a short time ago, he had decided not to let this go any further than a friendship - so why did he feel the need to behave so possessively towards Lando - especially Lando?

Lando, who gave him a hard time for treating you badly. Lando, who Charles knows is only approaching you in a friendly manner because he knows how much you mean to the Monegasque. Lando, who saved your friendship when it was about to shatter into a thousand splinters?

But Charles couldn't help himself. Jesus, he even put his hand on your hip to signal that Lando should please keep his hands off you. Like a horny dog, he had needed to show that you were his. 

And now, as you sit next to each other in your old Renault, he has to clutch the steering wheel so that he doesn't get any ideas about indulging his addiction to your touch. He misses the heat that burns through his skin when you touch him. He doesn't even dare to look in your direction. 

He takes his hand off the gear stick and stretches out his fingers, which have clenched painfully around the plastic, almost steering the car off the road as you place your hand under his to intertwine your fingers. 

His whole body burns as you place your hands in your lap and play with his fingers like it's the most natural thing in the world. As if you weren't just best friends sharing an apartment. As if you hadn't dry humped just a few hours ago. And it takes all his strength not to stop at the next corner and fuck you in the tiny back seat of the car until your lungs are hoarse from screaming.

He concentrates on steering the car properly. He concentrates on the springs he can feel through the thin fabric of the seat. He concentrates on the cracks in the steering wheel that he can feel in his calloused hand.

Charles is so glad to be sitting in the rickety Renault again.

[nicksbestie]

Dress - C. Sturniolo

Summary : AU where Chris is a frat boy, you're his girlfriend that he brings to their formal, and he's obsessed with the dress you chose.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. smut, makeouts, p in v, fingering, overall very loving/sweet scene

Word Count : 3758

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : @bratzforchris and i were discussing this idea... and so it was born! hope you enjoy!

You had sworn to yourself in high school that you were never going to be the person who was always at parties in college.

It wasn’t your scene, you weren’t going to be that reckless, and you didn’t like being around drunk people. You’d promised yourself and your family that you would be safe and responsible, and if you were to go out, you wouldn’t take things too far. So how did you end up in a frat house every weekend, drunk out of your mind, stumbling back home? The college pressure has gotten to you. You didn’t feel well, you were struggling in your classes, so you turned to the one thing that got you to get a normal amount of sleep, and that just happened to be passing out drunk way too often than you should have been.

It wasn’t helping you, but it was keeping you from having to think about it too much, because instead of laying awake in your dorm, staring at the ceiling until three in the morning, the taste of alcohol was coating your lips, and all you cared to think about was the next cup you were picking up. It didn’t even matter what was in it. As long as it wasn’t laced with anything, you would down it easily. You were going down a terrible path, and everyone who encountered you for more than a couple nights in a row could see that. Your roommate had tried to talk you out of going out so much, but you had ignored her, choosing to brush her advice to the side as you continued to do what you were doing. She had resorted to keeping you as safe as possible, knowing that she couldn’t control you, but she was always there after the parties, helping take care of you and making sure you got home safely.

She was there every morning after as well, holding your hair back when the alcohol hit you as soon as you woke up, helping you clean the makeup from the previous night off of your face. She would lay out medications for you, making sure you drank water to help soothe your unavoidable headache, and all of the care would come with a gentle reminder that you shouldn’t be doing this. You would always listen but never actually take it to heart, and luckily, she was still always there. She didn’t give up on you, but she knew pushing you could risk pushing you farther into the state you were already in, so she took care of you in all the ways that she could. But eventually, she wasn’t the only one doing so. You were always at the same frat house, so a lot of the boys knew you by your face, not much by your personality, or even by your name. There was one boy, however, who always made sure to have his eyes on you. 

Chris had noticed you since the first time you had ever showed up to a party hosted by his fraternity, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. You were beautiful, but he was way too drunk to approach you. His confidence was definitely increased by the alcohol, but he also knew from experience that hitting on a girl while he was wasted probably wasn’t the best choice, and he saw that you had someone with you, even though it was another girl. He had seen you every time you came into the frat house, and he had stayed sober solely for the reason of eventually talking to you. He noticed just how drunk you had been getting, and he kept his eyes on you so that if you needed help, he could be there. And eventually, his moment came. Your roommate hadn’t been there for you one night, because she didn’t know that you had come to a party this night, having had an evening class. So when you were basically stumbling down the front steps, he had rushed to make sure you didn’t fall. 

It had all started there. He walked you home that night, making sure that you were okay, and when you had slurred over the words that invited him in, he accepted, solely for the purpose of not leaving you drunk and alone. He knew how it could look, so he kept his distance, laughing with you and spending time with you until your roommate got home. When she did, she couldn’t deny that she was shocked to see someone she didn’t know sitting on her dorm floor, but Chris rushed to explain that he had only come in to make sure that you didn’t wander off the second that he left. He introduced himself, leaving as soon as he was sure that you were safe, and every time you returned to the frat house, he was making sure that you were always within his sight range. He walked you home multiple times after that, really getting to know your roommate, and they became good friends. 

The two of them combined had been the reason that you stopped partying so much. You still went out occasionally, but you were stone cold sober, and you only went to hang out with Chris. After a couple more weeks of this, Chris finally got the urge to ask you out, and you had accepted with a wide smile. It had been an amazing night, complete with him walking you home, having the route he had walked so many times memorized, dropping you off with a promise to see you the next day. You were infatuated with him, admiring the way he had kindly taken care of you for longer than you had ever noticed. He genuinely seemed like a good person, and he had taken everything so slow, knowing that you didn’t take very well to things moving quickly. He had been so supportive in your journey to get sober, and he and your roommate were everything to you. 

So that brought you to now, your roommate helping you curl your hair as you were getting ready for Chris’ fraternity formal. You had finally decided that you wanted to go to one of them, and your anxiety was racing, your heart pounding in your chest. When you had really begun to get to know Chris, you realized just how popular he really was, an incredible contrast to your social life. You weren’t a nobody, but you certainly weren’t one of the people who was recognized in every class you stepped in, giving out high fives in the hallways, and having hundreds of people show up to your parties because they wanted a chance at speaking to you. However, he never let the popularity get to his head, and that was one of the things that you loved the most about him. He was genuinely a good person, but dating someone who was so popular as being someone who was not still made your heart sink. 

People knew you were friends with Chris, but they didn’t know that you were dating him. The only people who knew that you and Chris were dating were you, Chris, and your roommate, as you had kept it very under wraps. You weren’t going to lie, you had heard some of the drunk comments that the frat brothers in Chris’ fraternity had made about him hanging out with you, and sometimes they stung, so you hadn’t come out about the true nature of your relationship with him. Chris had understood, and had no problem keeping it between your close group, knowing that regardless of who knew about the two of you, you were still his girl, so the approval of other people didn’t matter to him. You were a hopeless romantic, and Chris really was everything that you had ever dreamed of, but you were also a firm believer in the fact that relationships flourished better when they were quieter. 

This was the first time that you were going out publicly as a couple. You had actually suggested it, knowing that Chris had asked a couple of times if you would ever consider it, and originally, you had said no. But now, you felt like you were ready, feeling like as long as you were with your boyfriend, it didn’t matter what anybody else thought or said about you. It may be cheesy, but you had the people who mattered to you the most, and everybody else could deal with it. Chris had been over the moon when he heard your decision, excited to take you out, and knowing that you would look absolutely stunning in whatever you chose to wear. Your roommate was careful not to burn you with the curling iron, touching up your makeup for you before leaving the bathroom to pull your dress off of the hanger, handing it to you for you to slip on. You zipped it up as far as you could, it catching on the fabric near the top, so you stepped out of the bathroom to have your roommate finish zipping it up for you. She smiled as soon as she saw you.

“You look beautiful, babe. Chris is going to lose his mind.” 

You smiled back, turning around so she could help.

“Do you mind? I couldn’t get it all the way up.” 

“Of course not!” 

The second she went to finish zipping your dress, there was a knock at the door. Your dress was zipped up enough to stay perfectly positioned on you, so she went to open the door, smiling when she saw Chris. 

“Oh, you should let him do it. Come on in, she’s almost ready.” 

Chris stepped into the room, immediately seeing you as soon as he got through the doorway. His jaw seemed to hit the floor, eyes widening as he took in your appearance. 

“Baby, you’re stunning.” 

You smiled at him, waving him over. 

“Can you finish zipping up my dress?”

He nodded, immediately moving behind you and making sure that he didn’t pinch your skin as he slid the zipper up to the top of the slit of your dress. He noticed the dress was backless, and he would’ve lied if anyone had pointed out that his hands were shaking. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten so incredibly lucky. He didn’t know what he had done in one of his past lives to deserve such a perfect person in his life, but he would do it a million times over if it meant that he got to have you for eternity. You sat down in your desk chair to put on your heels, and when you were struggling a little bit, he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and help you, since your dress was making it difficult for you to see the straps on them. He stood back up, offering you his hand, and pulled you into a kiss the second you were steadily on your feet. He smiled, pulling back, eyes looking directly into yours.

“You’re gorgeous. I got so lucky.” 

You smiled, playing with the lapels of his tuxedo.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

It was at this point that your roommate rolled her eyes, coughing to get you to acknowledge the fact that she was still here.

“Alright, break it up, or get out of here. Go have fun, okay?” 

She pulled you into a hug, whispering a reminder to be safe, as well as a reminder that she was so happy and proud of you. Before you left, she threatened Chris that if anything happened to you, she would murder him, before you pulled him out of the door, yelling back at her to stop scaring off your dates. The walk to the fraternity house was a good time for you and Chris to spend some quiet moments together. The sun had slowly started to go down, but it was still warm enough out for you to really enjoy it all. Your anxiety was fading as you walked with him, knowing that he wouldn’t let anybody do anything to hurt you. You tried to completely squash all the remnants of your anxiety, reminding yourself that you’re going to go enjoy a party with your best friend and your boyfriend all in one, and you were going to remember it this time.

You would be a liar to say that you didn’t feel the eyes on you, that you didn’t hear some people whispering about you, but most people were very kind, a lot of the other girls at the party complimenting how beautiful your dress looked. Chris reminded you every two minutes that you looked gorgeous, placing a kiss on your head or lips every thirty seconds. It really was one of the best times you had ever experienced at a fraternity house, and you were completely sober to enjoy it all. You were on such a high from having a good time with your boyfriend that you felt like you could be drunk, like nothing could bring you down, like nothing else mattered. Walking out of the party a little early, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night privately, you two began the walk to a common green on your campus. You checked your phone, smiling when you saw a text from your roommate. 

bestie <3 : i’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight. figured you guys would want some alone time. i  love you!

You showed it to Chris, noting the way he smiled at you, laughing at his boyish reaction. You spent a little more time with each other, enjoying the general peace of each other’s presence, before getting up to go home. Walking back to your dorm, giggling like school children, with your hands clasped together, you felt like there could be nothing better than this. Confirming that Chris was with you as you entered the dorm building, you both moved quickly up the stairs, you having to pause to unlock the door. He pulled you into a kiss as you entered, shutting the door behind the two of you as you both stumbled towards your bed. You were standing in front of it, breaking the kiss to breathe, and to take your shoes off, as Chris’ hands now had one holding your side, and one toying with the top of your zipper.

“Can I take this off?” 

You nodded, kissing him passionately before answering.

“I only bought it for you to take it off.”

You could feel the shaky breath than left his mouth against your lips as he fumbled with the zipper slightly, finally getting it and gently but firmly pulling it down. The straps of your dress loosened around your shoulders but didn’t fall, right on the edge of slipping off, and you felt warm hands move up and slide them down, removing your dress completely as he helped you step out of it. You hadn’t needed to wear a bra with this dress, since it had internal padding, and you could hear another breath leave your boyfriend, though this time it wasn’t shaky, and instead, was one of awe. He’d seen your body before, as you’d changed with him near multiple times, and this wouldn’t be the first time that you had slept with each other, but Chris would swear that you got more beautiful the more he saw you. He adored you, every part, and he tipped your head back so that he could start placing blooming bruises on your neck, loving the way you reacted to his motions. 

Your knees eventually went weak, sitting down on the edge of the bed before the two of you moved fully onto it, albeit slightly ungracefully. You weren’t very adventurous people, keeping your nights together quite simple, as Chris hovered over you, placing kisses down your chest. You pulled him off only to remove his clothes, nearly tearing them in the process. Chris’ fingers played with the hem of your underwear, slowly removing them from your legs, continuing his trail of marks all the way down to your lower stomach, right above where you were growing desperate for his touch. You lifted your hips, a small gasp leaving your lips as he gently sucked another hickey, this time on your inner thigh. He left a couple more, running the tips of his fingers over your clit, alternating gentle taps on it to listen to your pretty whimpers. When you raised your hips again, whispering a plea for him to stop teasing, he took mercy on you, moving back up to kiss you again.

He smiled against your lips as he swallowed the moan that left your lips as he used his lips to heighten the pleasure of the firm movements and pressure on your clit, caused by his thumb. He messily made out with you, making the transition from simply touching you to fingering you, starting with just one, warming you up, loving the sounds you were making, feeling them vibrate against his mouth. It wasn’t long until your hips were pushing back to meet every movement he made, and he pushed in a second finger, beginning to curl them as he detached your lips, wanting to hear all the noises leaving your mouth. He didn’t stop moving his fingers, loving how beautiful you looked when your eyes were fluttering shut, your head slightly tipped back, and your back beginning to arch. He smiled at you, kissing your neck again.

“God, baby, you’re soaked.” 

You whined at his words, a little bit louder than you would have liked to, and Chris quieted you down by kissing you again, increasing the speed of his fingers, feeling your hips lift against his. It took all of his effort not to grind down against your touch, kissing you harder. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your mouth, enjoying just how reactive you were. He kept his ministrations going until he felt you clenching around him, pulling off of your mouth to hear your moans quickly rise in pitch, before removing his touch. You whined, pushing your hips down to try and chase the feeling, but he didn’t let you.

“I want you to cum on my dick, not around my fingers.” 

You pulled his body impossibly closer to you, feeling him push his boxers down to relieve some of the immense tension in his pants. He removed them as quickly as possible, adjusting how he was on top of you, a hand coming up to run his thumb along the side of your face, holding your jaw, admiring just how pretty you were under him. He’d seen this sight before, but he would never get tired of it. He brought his hand back down to rub at your clit, giving you pleasure to distract from the slight pain of him slowly pushing into you. He kissed you deeply, not daring to move faster than you were ready for. He let out a deep groan when he bottomed out, feeling you echo a moan against his lips. He stayed as still as possible, fighting the urge to bury himself in you, giving you as much time as you needed to adjust to the stretch. As soon as you gave him the okay to move, his breathing was shaky, overwhelmed by just how good you felt around him.

“Oh my god, baby.”

You could only whimper in response, the drag of his cock against every perfect spot bringing you to tears of pleasure. You felt full, your sweet spot being abused as he slowly built up his pace, gaining speed. He was groaning into the side of your neck, his hips building a steady rhythm as you fell apart on his dick. He knew exactly what angle to hit, bringing back the stimulation on your clit. As he did so, he felt you tighten around him for a split second, gasping at the unexpected pleasure that rode through him, his hips jerking of their own accord before returning to the rhythm he had set for the two of you. As his perfectly angled thrusts gained a little bit more speed, you could feel your orgasm swirling in the pit of your stomach, what felt like a coil crunching down and getting ready to snap. Chris knew the signs of you being on the edge, and he added more pressure to your clit, feeling the way you were beginning to consistently clench around him, speaking into your ear.

“So good for me, baby, make me feel so good-” 

His voice broke against your ear, a whimper of his own slipping through as the rhythm of his hips began to falter. The praise that he kept trying to speak, the breathless “good girl” that slipped from his lips, did it for you. Your finish felt like it knocked the wind out of you, tightening around Chris’ dick, back arching harshly as you cried out his name. He completely lost control at this, hips desperately jerking as he chased his own release, you whining as you felt it inside of you. He was breathing heavily, but so were you, as you basked in the glow of your orgasms. After a couple of minutes, he slowly pulled out, whispering apologies as you winced in sensitivity. He kissed you to distract you, before grabbing some of the wipes off of your nightstand and beginning to gently wipe the evidence of your night off of your legs. You were exhausted from the party and now the sex, mustering up the energy to speak.

“I love you.” 

He pulled back, smiling at you.

“I love you more. Let me take care of you, okay?” 

His aftercare was short but sweet, rubbing your legs so that they hopefully wouldn’t ache too much in the morning, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you down on the toilet, gently helping you and himself clean off with a damp washcloth after you peed. You were both spent, and a shower could wait until the morning, but at least this way you weren’t tired and gross. He had you back in bed quickly, but not before helping you into some soft clothes. He had a couple pairs of sweats, boxers, and shirts at your dorm, so he pulled clothing back on, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You laid in comfortable silence before he spoke, the last thing that would be said before you fell asleep.

“I love that dress.”

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[mystellenia]

sleepy late nights with ellie ୨ৎ

summary: both you and ellie wake up in the middle of the night and cuddle your way back to sleep.

content: answer to this req!! nothing nsfw :] just fluffy and ellie being stupid

notes: sorry i havent posted in a while.. but yes finals are coming up so i’ll prob kms soon. but i have this class where i hate the teacher and after finals i'm done with him FINALLY YESSS

(wc 1.0k)

a loud coughing fit came from over your shoulder where you slept in bed, making you open your eyes to see if it would stop. it did not, instead intensifying after you look over your shoulder to find a hunched over ellie sitting up with her legs swung over the edge of the bed. she notices that her coughing woke you up and she quickly palms her mouth, hoping to muffle the volume of the coughs. 

she tries—and fails—to get an apology out in between her coughs: "fuck- i didn't mean- didn't mean to wake you up." 

you simply watch with your eyes wide and brows drawn in naked concern. finally, she calms down and lowers her voice to a whisper. "sorry baby." 

rolling onto your back, you extend your hand out towards her and then stop it midair, shocked at how unconcerned she seems at her previous death hacks. 

"um, hello? are you okay?" you whisper-yell. 

she lifts the covers to get back into bed, trying to rub her eyes of the sleep that was so violently interrupted. "i woke up with the worst cotton mouth so i just drank whatever was on my nightstand. it was soda. squirt to be exact. i think i just asphyxiated." 

"stupid- why would you drink soda for thirst? drink water," you scold her. 

"it was right there- i just needed anything! i would've drank chocolate milk if it was right there!" 

"dummy," you huffed. the blinking led lights of the clock on ellie's nightstand catches your eye—it was just past two in the morning. yawning, you say, "just come back, let's sleep." 

she didn't resist—she looked exhausted. ellie was anything but a morning person, and she got cranky if she didn't get a full night's rest.  

scooting down to get under the blanket, she pulls it up to her chin and turns on her side to face you staring back at her. she moves with a shimmy to get closer to your body, pushing her legs in between yours and tangling them as she nearly presses her nose to yours. with a content sigh, she nuzzles into her pillow and closes her eyes. 

softly chuckling at her apparent routine to get resituated, you huff out a laugh, making her open her eyes. 

"what?" she murmurs, confused at what you were laughing at. 

"el, what do you mean what? i'm exhaling right into your nose and inhaling your breath." 

"just say you don't love me," she pouts, theatrically turning over to face her back to you and yanking the blanket. 

"you're so annoying," you say and roll your eyes while sitting up to litter her face in kisses. "please come back so we can share germs?" 

"that's more like it." she returns to her previous position with her legs tangled in yours and face a centimeter from yours. 

her head pushes forward for a second to drop a kiss on your lips—just a quick goodnight. "'night, baby." 

you laugh, "good night, ellie." 

you settle into your pillow and close your eyes to begin to drift off to sleep when you feel the weight of ellie's head lift off of her pillow. after a second or two, you open your eyes to a squint to see ellie looking at you in disbelief. 

"can you give me a kiss back or should i roll back over and social distance again?" 

"oh my god, ellie, can we sleep?!" she raises her eyebrows in expectation, giving you her cheek to kiss. "my stupid big baby."  

you plant your hands on either side of her jaw, speaking and punctuating every few words with a kiss. "yes, i love you,"--kiss--"yes, i wanna exchange microorganisms with you,"--kiss--"no, i don't want us to sleep six feet apart,"--kiss--"...but... drinking squirt three seconds after you open your eyes is actually insane, baby." 

you see in her eyes how badly she wants to throw something back at you, but her cheeks are barely containing her suppressed smile, so instead she just giggles and lays her head back on her pillow, the tip of her nose tickling yours. 

"good nighttt," ellie whispers in a sing-songy tone, kissing your lips once, twice, three times before settling back in her nose-to-nose position. 

"you're so cute," you blurt out, pulling the blanket up and tucking it under your chin. 

her words started to slur, her syllables beginning to blend together by exhaustion. "d'you wanna order food tomorrow morning for breakfast in bed?" 

"it is tomorrow—it's, like, 2:30 now." 

she kisses her teeth in irritation. "you fuckin' smartass," she murmurs, a long yawn following. "do you want to or no?" 

"duh i want to. i can't wait to get fat together." 

she takes so long to respond that you think she's dozed off until she mutters out, "perfect," a sleepy smile taking over her face. 

"can... can we get caprisuns in the cup for him, too?" she adds on nonsensically. 

"baby, what?" you question, unable to make any sense of her... request? her statement? she's too tired to be speaking. 

ellie's breaths slow down again, making you think she's actually fallen asleep until she hums to get your attention. you hum back at her to show you're listening, and she starts to speak. 

"can we get a liter of squirt tomorrow with breakfast?" 

"what the fuck. bedtime now. good night," you say, shutting down her meaningless rambling to go to sleep. right before your eyes shut, you notice her soft pout at you silencing her, but it fades off into a smile as you fall asleep. 

@picklesarenice69

i dont have much to say!! gonna post now bc i have an appointment rn 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?

But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.

What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?

Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words. 

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned. 

He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.

You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.

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

Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.

Dear Lt Bradshaw,

It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them. 

Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon. 

Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable. 

Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.

He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.

"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle. 

He tapped on the email from his best friend first. 

Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat

He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.

I got my water bottle from your house.

"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox. 

"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.

Bradley,

I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night. 

You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.

Your giddy pen pal

Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.

Gorgeous,

You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one. 

I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.

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

You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.

Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.

You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.

It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes. 

"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.

He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.

At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."

Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.

You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.

"Bradley?"

There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous." 

The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.

You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.

"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.

"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."

You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"

"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"

You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."

Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."

"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.

"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."

You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."

He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."

You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.

"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."

You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."

"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."

"Oh," you gasped.

"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"

He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

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

This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.

"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.

"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"

Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him,  "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.

"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego." 

Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered. 

"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."

You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"

"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."

Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."

"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."

Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."

The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.

"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.

"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."

"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"

You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"

He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."

You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"

His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"

"Yes."

"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."

After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."

"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"

You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."

"Send me a selfie?"

"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."

He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"

That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."

You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."

"I'll be ready when you do."

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

I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[maximotts]

Number four with cowgirl Wanda please 😵‍💫 My free use queen

cowgirl Wanda my love my life 💖 uhmmm have some not so secret barn loft sex

cw: 18+ minors dni; smut, dry humping, strap-ons, previously agreed upon free use/dubcon if you really squint hard

"Do you want them to hear?"

“It was real sweet of you to come all the way down here just to bring me lunch.”

Wanda shouldn’t have been able to sound so innocent while tearing at your clothes, tugging the thin straps of your sundress from your shoulders just to let it fall and bunch at your waist. You also should’ve known better than to think she was innocently asking you to sit on your lap to ‘rest’ after finishing off the sandwich you’d brought her from the house.

Truly you’d known since she led you up to the barn’s hayloft, but Wanda left so early that morning, her side of the bed cold by the time you woke up, and you’d missed her terribly ever since. “Well I haven’t seen you all day, Wands. I needed to make sure you weren’t working yourself to death down here- ah!”

The brunette’s mouth latched onto your breast then, free hand coming to massage the other as you scrambled to keep yourself balanced. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t let you fall.”

The pair of you continued on like that for a while, Wanda keeping busy with sucking your tits as you tugged her tied back hair and stammered out praises. Impatient as you were, shaky hands fell to your girlfriend’s jeans, fumbling through unbuckling her belt just to grind your hips down to hers hard, silently begging for the strap on nestled between her legs.

“Always so needy to be filled, is that what you want?” Her hand snuck under your dress and, upon searching for underwear and instead finding your bare pussy, Wanda nipped at the underside of your breast. “Came down all by yourself with nothing on under this thin little dress? Naughty little bunny.”

There was no denying it, having hoped that one way or another, your midday visit would result in the sex you’d missed out on this morning. But who could blame you when your girlfriend was always so enticing? “I need you so bad, please.. I’ll beg so prettily for you.”

You’d put on your best pout, stroking Wanda’s cheek much too gently for the carnal need buzzing between you both. She lined the toy up to your entrance without another word, dying to fuck you just as much as you needed to be consumed by her. “Go on and beg, baby. Let me hear you.”

“Oh fuck, yes!” You moaned, sinking down onto her cock in one fluid motion. Your knees shook against the old wood of the loft, head falling into the crook of Wanda’s neck as she bucked up into your tight hole. “Feels so good, don’t stop—“

“That’s it, take what you need, pretty thing.” Wanda held your hips in a relaxed grip, allowing you to ride her however you pleased while she enjoyed the show.

It was just as you’d set the perfect pace that the large barn doors below opened, Natasha’s and Carol’s voices filling the otherwise empty building. Instinct had you backing off, but Wanda wouldn’t let you, fingers digging into your sides. “Stop it, we can’t! Someone’s here!”

“Shhh,” Wanda smirked when you shook your head, gripping your ass so roughly you yelped- much louder than you’d have liked. “Do you want them to hear?”

She didn’t stop there, refusing to be denied when she’d been so looking forward to this loft rendezvous, and soon your back met a scratchy bed of hay, Wanda driving into you more determined than ever. Wanda couldn’t care less if her friends heard what was happening up here; it wouldn’t be the first time they’d accidentally overheard and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “I bet it only turns you on more, thinking about everyone wanting to listen in on how pretty you sound getting fucked dumb.”

“N-No, I-” Realistically you didn’t stand a chance, tiny whimpers already escaping despite your best efforts to keep quiet. She held your hands above your head, keeping your body on display as she had her way with you and damn it, if it wasn’t so hot, you wouldn’t be struggling so intently to meet her hips with each thrust.

Wanda started to circle your neglected clit then and the last of your performative defiance faltered, legs falling open with a wanton moan. “You promised to beg, so you’d better not have been lying or I’ll leave you here with an ass so red you’ll be crying for me to carry you home.”

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your Alpha in the King's Dungeon

A/N: This was someone's request, but I lost the request, so I'm sorry but here it is!

(Alpha) Riordan x GN Omega Reader

General Summary: You've been summoned to a magical world to soothe beast they call Alpha.

Word count: 6.5K

TW: cozy alpha/omega dynamic, kidnapping to another world, gentle alpha, mention of war and a small bit of violence, alpha/omega smut, nesting, knotting, and biting

You woke, your back cold. This wasn't you bed. You smelled something burning, maybe sage or thyme. It smelled herbal. 

“Open your eyes, pretty, I know you're awake,” a nasally voice said. 

Your eyes blinked open, and you squinted at the light. Sitting up, you found yourself in a well-lit room. It looked like a sort of lab with glass vessels filled with brightly colored liquids. Sunlight poured in the large windows. The glass was thick and uneven, making the world outside blurry. It had to be old and crudely cast to look like that. 

“Welcome to my world, little omega,” the voice said. 

You turned to see an old man in a purple robe, looking at you expectantly. He was rather short but had oddly long fingers. His face was gnarled with wrinkles, and his teeth were jagged and yellow as if they'd been broken. 

“Omega?” you murmured, trying to make sense of the place. 

You'd gone to bed as you did every night, yet you woke up here. Where was here? 

“Where am I?” You asked. 

“I'm sure you have many questions,” he chuckled, “but I don't care to answer them. You may not live long enough for it to matter, and I'm short on time.”

“What?” You gasped, instinctively hopping up, but your body was not yours. 

The old man waved a gnarled claw, and you rose off the stone slab where he’d laid you and drifted behind him through a heavy wooden door. 

“Hey, where the fuck am I? Who are you?” You snapped at him, wriggling, desperate to escape. 

It was no use; whatever…magic he'd used on you kept you bobbing aloft just behind him. As he descended steep stone steps, he mumbled to himself. 

“I'm sure I've gotten the signature right this time,’ he muttered. “The last specimen’s pheromones were muddled. Theirs is much more pure. It has to work.” 

He stopped at a heavy iron door with a guard beside it holding a pike. 

“Help me! This guy is kidnapping me!” you shouted to him.

The guard's eyes slid to you for a moment, and you detected the slightest bit of pity. 

“Open the damn door!” The old man snarled. “The king will have all our heads if this doesn't work!” 

The guard gave you another somber glance before finding a ring of keys on his waist and unlocking the door. 

You did not want to go into the dark, smelly place he was taking you, but you floated like a feather on the wind right after him. 

Around you, large shadows loomed behind thick bars. Red eyes peered at you from the gloom. It was quiet at first but then…whatever they were started beating at their cages, howling like beasts. You could only see flashes of sharp teeth and claws. Fear silenced you and you only let out a miserable whimper. 

“Ah, here we are,” he said, stopping at one cell. 

The creature inside roared his outrage at the sound of the old man’s voice. 

There was the sickening snap of wood, and what must have been a bunk came flying at the bars. 

“Now, now, Riordan,” he clucked. “I have a new toy for you to play with. Don't rip this one to bits this time, hmm? If this works, you'll see sunlight soon.” 

The old man, swifter than he looked, opened the gate and tossed you inside. You landed in a pile on the floor and heard the ominous click of the metal lock behind you. 

You crab-walked back towards the gate, terrified of what creature he’d trapped you with. Were you to be food? He'd stolen you from your bed just to feed this…thing?

In the dark, you could only see red eyes, glaring at you, set in a massive form. It must have been eight feet tall and two times the width of a linebacker. 

“Please, please,” you whimpered. “Don't eat me.” 

The creature parted its lips and you could make out massive, sharp teeth. Instead of pouncing on you, it lifted its nose, sniffing the air. 

Staring at it, petrified with fear and confusion, you watched its red eyes dim to a soft glowing green…like sunlight filtering through leaves in spring. They were…pretty. 

The creature took a heavy step forward, his wide feet emitting a deep thud. He seemed interested in you. 

“H-hey,” you stammered. “That's a good…whatever you are…I'm a friend, not food.” 

His eyes narrowed on you, and a large hand emerged from the shadows. You held your breath, ready to be torn apart, but he only patted your head, as if you were a kitten. 

“Fascinating!” The old man said. 

At his voice, the creature growled, then let out a loud roar that sounded more desperate than angry. You shrieked and jumped out of his way as he rushed the door, throwing his shoulder against the bars. A blue light flashed in front of you, and the creature flew back into the far wall, collapsing into a pile with a heavy thunk. 

“I think it's worked!” The old man muttered. “He hasn't torn the arms off of the specimen. Further observations are necessary, but I must report this to the King!” 

“Hey!” You shouted as he scurried away, careful not to touch the bars. “You can't leave me here!”

The old man ignored you, and with a slam, the heavy metal door swung shut behind him. 

Around you, other creatures growled in the darkness, pacing the length of their enclosures. Unsure what to do, you tiptoed towards the shadowy figure slumped against the far wall. 

“You okay, big guy?” You asked. “He didn't kill you, did he?” 

Even though the creature was terrifying, you felt for him. No wonder he was in a bad mood being locked up in a dark, smelly cage.  

He let out a low groan, and you extended a hand, brushing his hair. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see he looked more human than monster. His teeth were far too large to be truly human, and the features of his face were too rugged, with harsh lines and a pronounced brow. Still, he wasn't ugly. He had an attractive cut to his jaw, and his hair, though it needed a brushing, was soft and maybe blond. It was hard to tell in the dark. 

A heavy hand grabbed your wrist, and you screamed, trying to yank your arm back. It was no use; he was too strong. Was this when he ripped your arm off? You braced for pain, but he only lifted his head and sniffed the inside of your wrist. 

“You…smell…amazing,” he said. 

His voice was low and rough, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. His eyes opened, and he looked up at you. They still glowed, but the red hadn't returned. 

“Y-you can talk?” You gasped. 

He let out a chuff devoid of humor. 

“I was human…once,” he said. “I can remember now. I used to talk a lot.” 

“If you're not human, what are you?” You asked. 

“An experiment,” he growled, squeezing your wrist. 

You whimpered, and he looked up at your hand, suddenly letting it go. He looked slightly ashamed. 

“I'm sorry, I,” he muttered. “I'm nothing but a monster now.” 

“Did that old man do this to you?” You asked. “Who is he?” 

He tipped his head back against the stone wall behind him. 

“The King's chief sorcerer,” he said. “He took us all from the army, injected us with Goddess know what, and we became like this.” 

He clutched his head. 

“I don't know how long it's been,” he moaned. “For so long, I could only see red, and then you came along.” 

His eyes focused on you. 

“I'm just a normal person,” you said. “I’m not sure what I could have done.” 

He leaned forward, burying his face in your chest. 

“Oh!” You squeaked. 

“Your scent,” he murmured. “the world becomes clear when I’m near you. You chase the red away.” 

His big arms circled you, and he pulled you into his lap, tucking his nose behind your ear. You felt the heat of his breath grazing your skin and shivered in his arms.  

“I like you here,” he murmured. “Well, not here…but with me.” 

“O-Oh,” you stammered. “Well, just your luck then, huh? Seems I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.” 

He let out another dry chuff. It was as if he'd forgotten how to laugh, but he was trying to remember. 

“Where are we?” You asked. “I went to bed somewhere else.” 

He hummed, thinking as he ran a heavy mitt over your head. 

“We must be in the South, near the Capital,” he said. 

“But where?” You asked. “I'm from Earth…(Y/C)? Heard of it?” 

He shook his head. 

“No, this is Swarin,” he said. “I've never heard of Earth or…(Y/C). Is it across the sea? Only pirates go that far.” 

“I don't think so,” you said. “The old asshole called me Omega. Do you know what that means?” 

At that, he nodded. 

“I don't really understand all the alchemy behind it,” he said in a low grumble. “But I'm an Alpha. A monster. And you…are soft and delicate, an Omega. We…are compatible…I think.” 

“Compatible?” you hummed. 

“The sorcerer has been looking for Omegas. There aren't any in Swarin. He's brought down samples…but they never did…what you do.” 

“What happened to them all? The samples?” You whispered. 

He let out a low groan. 

“I don't know, but I can guess,” he said. “I only remember screams…and blood.” 

His deep voice cracked. 

“What I did…” he sniffled. “What have I become? Why won't they destroy me?” 

He pressed you to him like a teddy bear, and you felt moisture on your neck where he'd tucked his head. 

Your heart raced, but you reached up and rubbed his cheek. 

“It's….it's okay,” you said. “That wasn't you. The old man, the sorcerer, did this…you have no control. When I first saw you, you were out of your mind.” 

“I would have killed you,” he sobbed. 

You patted his head. 

“But you didn't,” you said. “I think …I hope it's okay now.” 

You both looked up as you heard the rusty squeak of the metal door open. 

“This way, your Radiance,” you heard the sorcerer say. 

“This better be good, Elias,” another voice grumbled. “God, this place smells like rotting meat.” 

“Don't mind that it's the beasts. They tear apart rats for fun. Come, come. This way,” he replied. 

A man with a crown appeared next to the sorcerer in front of the cell. He wasn't quite so old but had a white beard and a regal countenance. 

“Look, your Radiance,” he said. “See how the beast is soothed? He clutches the specimen like a pet.” 

The king looked at the two of you with interest. 

“And you have a source for these…Omegas?” He asked. 

“Yes, your Radiance!” He said, clicking his long nails together with delight. “I've found a world through the ether filled with Omegas. This is only the first. I can bring many here. Once we pair the Alphas, they will become useful.” 

“They’d better be,” the King snarled, obviously annoyed. “This whole project has been a mess from the start. You promised me super soldiers, and what I’ve gotten is uncontrollable monsters. Can the thing speak?” 

You frowned at his description of Riordan as a “thing." He was monstrous, yes, but he had been human once- he still had a soul. 

“Riordan,” the sorcerer snapped. “Greet your king!” 

Riordan let out a low growl that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. 

The King looked unimpressed. 

“If you don’t cooperate, I will take your new pet from you,” Elias hissed. “You want to keep them, don’t you? If you are good, you will not be separated. You’ll have good food and sunlight. You’ll leave this dungeon, but you must speak like a man, not a beast.” 

Riordan bared his teeth, but you patted his hand. 

“Speak to him, Riordan,” you whispered. “It’s a step forward. You’re not alone now. We’ll figure this out together.” 

His jade eyes flicked to you and then back up to the King. 

“Your- Your Highness…apologies,” he ground out. 

The King smiled and patted Elias on the back. 

“Excellent work,” he said. “Secure the beast and bring him to our war camp for a demonstration in the morning.” 

He looked a little sickly. 

“I can’t spend another moment in this filth,” he grumbled, turning on his heels and marching out of the door.

The sorcerer looked at the two of you hungrily. 

“You heard the King,” he said. “Time to return to the surface. Guards! Bring the collars!” 

A handful of guards appeared holding two metal collars. One big and one small. 

“Go in there and apply them!” He told them, and they all looked horrified at one another. No one moved. 

“Go in now,” he snapped, clapping. “you're going to comply, aren't you, Riordan? Because you want to keep the Omega?” 

Riordan narrowed his eyes, but you squeezed his hand. 

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Maybe they'll give us some real food.” 

You tried to sound positive. Riordan looked at you, then lowered his head. 

“I will comply,” he said. 

The guards slowly entered the cell, the one holding the collars first. 

“Don't mind the collars,” the sorcerer told you. “They are a good thing. They keep you tied together with an invisible tether so your enemies can't separate you on the battle field.” 

“What else do they do?” You asked, not believing the sorcerer for a moment. 

“They also have the same energy as the bars,” he said. “If either of you misbehave, you can be punished.” 

You looked warily at the soldier holding your collar, but you reasoned that the collar may be easier to escape than the dungeon, so you remained still as he snapped it around your neck. The cold metal was uncomfortable but could be tolerated. 

The soldiers were eager to get out of Riordan's way as he rose, stepping heavily towards the gate with you in his arms. 

The sorcerer looked pleased. 

“Now to the baths,” he said. “You can't perform for the King stinking like you do.” 

Riordan gave you an uncertain look, and you nodded just slightly. 

“It's okay,” you whispered. “Won't a bath be nice?” 

You watched his jaw twitch, but he followed silently behind Elias as he led you past the thick iron door. The baths were across the building you were in. Outside of the dungeon, it was quite nice, with potted plants and paintings of flowering meadows decorating the stone walls. Sun filtered in through leaded glass windows, giving you a glimpse at the land you’d been summoned to. From what you could see, there were more stone buildings with people going about their days. 

“You have thirty minutes,” a guard barked sharply, drawing your attention back to the task at hand. 

He opened a door, and steam scented like lavender drifted out. The room was tiled with a blue and white motif, with a large blue pool in the center. Riordan set you down, attempting to lift your shirt from your back.

“Hey! I can do that!” you snapped. 

His eyes flashed, but not red, a rich gold, and he looked contrite.

“I can’t help it, Omega. My instincts tell me to tend to you.” 

You huffed. You weren’t sure what to make of this dynamic, but Riordan seemed bent on caring for you. If it kept the red away, you figured you ought to allow it. 

“Fine! Go on, but ask next time.” 

You eyed him carefully. 

“I’m not used to your size.” 

A smirk grew on his lips, and a deep noise rumbled in his chest. It sounded like…a happy cat, but deeper. More of a rumble, like thunder from far away. 

“Are you purring?” you ventured. 

“I think it is natural to calm my Omega…the wizard told me many things I didn’t understand until now.”

He tugged your shirt from you, then your pants, and paused, his fingers skimming the underwear you wore. Though you weren’t used to being naked in front of a stranger, you couldn’t bathe in your underwear. You leveled him with a stern stare.  

“Continue, but don’t get any bright ideas.” 

He nodded, slipping the small garments off of you. When you were ready, he dipped you in the hot water, following close behind when he’d removed his own clothes. The second he got settled in the water, he scooped you into his lap and started to scrub you. 

“What are you doing now?” you rasped. 

Underneath you, you could feel all of his power; the massive muscles, hard planes against your soft skin, and something…large poking you in the back. 

“You smell…like strange things. I will wash you, then I will scent you.”

You figured that if he had a better-than-average sense of smell, he would probably be able to smell the cheap soap you used, which was filled with chemicals. 

“What does ‘scent you’ mean?” you asked as he lifted your arm. 

As the smell of rot from the dungeon washed away, you were suddenly aware of a sweet cinnamony smell coming from Riordan. 

“I need to mark my Omega, so others know you’re mine,” he said, seeming proud that he could recall such facts. “It will not hurt.” 

“Oh…Okay…” 

He was very methodical, making sure every inch of skin was cleaned. When he was satisfied you were spotless, his nose dipped to the crook of your neck, and he purred. 

“You smell so good, Omega,” he breathed into your skin. 

The thick shaft pressed against your body thickened and hardened, drawing breath from your lungs. 

“We need to clean you,” you stammered, swirling around to straddle him. 

His cock patted your most sensitive spot, and it took some effort on your part not to look down. He watched you with wide eyes as you carefully scrubbed his hair with the lavender-smelling soap sitting on the rim of the tub. When you rinsed it away, you found he had pretty wheat-colored hair. Scraping it back with your fingers, he looked a bit more tidy, though he needed a trim. He didn’t wait even a minute after you were done helping him scrub the years of dungeon nastiness away, snuggling into your neck, running the spot just under his ear down your arms. 

You yelped, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Riordan!” you squealed, and he looked up, his cheeks ruddy. 

“I have to rub my scent glands on you,” he informed you matter-of-factly before diving back in.

You tried to ignore the heat that pooled in your stomach as his cinnamon scent filled your lungs. Your breath drew short, and every sensitive spot on your body perked up under his touch. You weren’t sure if you were compatible with the giant, but your body certainly believed you were. As he rubbed himself against you, his cock gingerly brushed your stomach. Closing your eyes, you desperately tried to think about anything but sex. 

Riordan’s head rose suddenly, cocked to the side. 

“The guard is back,” he muttered. 

A moment later said guard appeared in the door, grimacing. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going at it in the bath, fucking beasts.” 

“W-we weren’t-” you started to say, but your words were cut off by a growl. 

“Don’t shout at my mate,” Riordan grumbled as he scooped you out of the water. Standing at his full height, looking down on the guard you saw the annoying intruder’s eyes widen, and he took an instinctive step back. Clearing his throat, he waved the pile of clothes he held at him. 

“Come on,” he tried to assert, his voice cracking. “The King is waiting.” 

You quickly dressed in the light cotton pants and loose shirt he’d provided, having to pause for a moment so Riordan could refresh his scent on the new items. 

Though you could walk, you found your legs swinging in the air as your Alpha tucked you in the crook of his arm. 

“Where are we going?” you whispered to him as the guard led you out of the building. 

“We are at war…or we were. To a war camp, I assume.” 

Around you, a pleasant, medieval village buzzed with activity. As you passed, people gaped at Riordan’s size. He was at least a foot and a half taller than the tallest among them. Your eyes danced around the archaic scene with wonder. Where had this wizard spirited you off to? 

Ahead of you, a shrill grinding noise drew your attention. With five guards on each size manning lever handles the massive gate of the city opened to a sprawling wilderness. An overgrown cobblestone road cut through the forested hills, flowers blooming through the cracks in the stones. Dappled sunlight spotted the forest floor, lighting falling leaves like sparkling emeralds. In Riordan’s arms you felt him suck in a heavy breath. 

“Nice to breathe fresh air, huh?” you asked and he smiled. 

Despite the collars, this was far preferable to the stinking dungeon. Your body shook with the pleased purr emanate from his chest. Hours passed, marching along the winding trail. You could only assume it was early spring by the crisp, cool air and the early blooming daffodils growing from every spot of sun. 

As you turned a corner Riordan grunted and you glanced up to see him frowning. 

“What is it?” you whispered. 

“I can smell the camp from here. It’s much closer than it used to be…not a good sign.” 

You blinked at him. 

“Do you think the war has been going on for all the years you’ve been captive?” 

He nodded, jaw ticking, as he held you close.  

“I smell blood and rotting flesh.” 

You swallowed hard, sniffing the air. Your scene of smell was not any better than it had been and all that you caught was Riordan’s cinnomin and cardamom musk. The Omega emerging inside of you had you cuddling your head into his chest. It was hard to believe you were some magical creature, designed to compliment this massive beast, but your body and instincts were already caught up. 

His purr soothed your anxiety and you wanted to roll around in his scent. You wouldn’t have liked them under any circumstances, but the longer you bonded with Riordan the more bloodthirsty thoughts about his captors filled your mind. 

Freedom, your Omega crooned, Freedom to mate, to nest, to rear his pups. 

Before you could catch yourself, you were fisting his shirt, the urge to rearrange it to your liking driving your fingers. 

“Soon, Omega,” he purred. “Soon you can make your nest.” 

The impatient, emerging Omega huffed at him. He chuckled, allowing himself a moment of amusement before his attention returned to the road ahead. The sounds of metal clanging and shouting soldiers signalled your arrival. 

The camp was an ugly, dirty place. Smokey bonfires smothered your breaths and soldiers, some clearly injured, covered in blood scuttled around. Your guard guided the two of you through the hastily erected tents. Some were merely a bit of leather stretched between some odd poles. The one you stopped at was the finest of them all, made with lengths of canvas and gold and silver threads. 

“Gold threads at a war camp? A waste,” Riordan scoffed quietly, following your eyes. “Money would be better spent on bandages and rations. The enemy doesn’t care for such indulgences.” 

You blinked up at him. 

“You know a lot about war?” 

His eyes narrowed as he thought. 

“I believe I ranked captain when I was taken.” 

“Wait here,” the guard ordered before he entered the tent. A moment later the king emerged surrounded by his entourage. 

He smiled up at the both of you, not a friendly smile. It was calculating and cool. 

“Enjoy the walk, creature?” he asked, his lips carrying a smirk. “Nice to be out in the sun again, isn’t it?” 

You felt the growl building in your Alpha’s chest and patted him to calm him. He glanced down at you and you flicked your head just slightly to tell him not to fight this. Instead, he gave the King a half bow, careful not to jostle you. 

Pleased, the King smacked his hands together. 

“Now is the time to work for your supper,” he announced. “You’ll be accompanying a regiment to flank the enemy in the hills. If you make it back and do as your told, there will be food for your return.” 

“We will not be fed now?” you asked. “He will need energy to fight your enemy.” 

The King scowled at you and one of his guards slammed his spear into the dirt.

“Learn to show your king proper respect,” he snarled. 

You felt Riordan’s arm tighten around you, but he gritted out an apology. 

“Please excuse my Omega. They are not used to our ways.” 

He set you down, patting your head. 

“Stay here where it’s safe. I’ll be back soon.” 

The King laughed outloud. 

“Oh no, your little Omega will be going with you. I’ll have no mishaps if you go rogue.” 

At that Riordan growled. 

“It’s too dangerous. They are not a soldier!” 

This time the guard rubbed a strange crystal he had around his neck and Riordan spasmed as his collar shocked him. 

“Silence creature, you’ll do as your King wills!” 

You tugged on his shirt, asking to be picked back up. King’s edict or no, you didn’t want to leave Riordan’s side. He gave you a wary glance before he scooped you back up, panting from the shock. 

“Aye, your majesty,” he finally said on a heavy breath. 

The King gave Riordan a haughty look, high on the idea that this creature served him, only. 

“Escort them to the battlefield!” he announced before returning to the comfort of his tent. 

The soldiers around you looked wary, be it from Riordan’s great size or what lay ahead, you couldn’t tell. However, this time you smelled your destination long before you arrived. The scent of death was on the wind. 

As you drew closer, the scent wound around the sound of screaming and metal clanging. In either realm, you’d never seen a battle before and it was nothing like the movies. All of the parts were there, dead bodies, swords, shields, sweating soldiers, but it was all so much more. At the back, some captain shouted orders, but nothing about this seemed orderly. The soldiers had long broken whatever formation they had been in and it was clear the enemy had them pressed. 

“This is no good. The King will be overtaken by nightfall,” Riordan whispered to you. 

The captain seemed acutely aware of this fact, a bit of hope in his expression when Riordan appeared. 

“Into the fray beast!” he shouted. “Drive them back or we’ll all be skewered!” 

Needing his hands, Riordan reluctantly put you down. 

“Stay close, Omega,” he murmured, his large jaw setting. 

Your heart pattered in your chest, holding on the the back of his shirt as he waded into the bloody mess. Enemies flew at him swords raised, but he threw them back with little more than a wave of his arm. You tried to stifle your screams, lest he be distracted, shuffling behind him. The enemy was thick, bearing down on the two of you from seeming every direction. 

You jerked a dagger loose from one of the bodies you past, swinging it at a soldier who’d gotten too close. 

The enemy’s face was hidden by silver armor carrying a massive sword. A desperate scream emerged from your chest as he bore down on you with the sharp end of the blade. Riordan turned to come to your rescue, but it was too late. The sword made contact with the collar around your neck, knocking you sideways. Riordan roared, grabbing the soldier and ripping his sword arm off. You gasped in the bloody mud of the battlefield, prepared to meet you maker. Only, you didn’t die…in fact, you weren’t hurt at all. The collar around your neck slipped off you, sliced clean in half. 

Free, you sat up, eyes wide with confusion. Riordan, however, was quick and sharp, prying the sword from the disembodied arm’s grasp. 

“Elven metal,” he gasped, green eyes glowing. 

Before you could question him, you’d been tossed over his shoulder and he made a B-line to the forest’s edge. In the chaos, your guards hadn’t even noticed, busy fighting back the enemy the best they good. As soon as you were safely past the treeline, he turned the sword, which looked like little more than a cooking knife in his hand, to his own neck. The collar popped off with little trouble and Riordan massaged the sore skin where he’d been burned. 

“What now?” you gasped, still eyeing the battle behind you with concern. 

“Now we run,” he announced. 

Before you could respond, he picked you back up and sprinted into the forest. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as trees flew by. 

“The mountains, it ought to be safe there.” 

There was little you could do but hold on tight and peek over his shoulder to be sure you weren’t followed. You must have dozed off, because you woke in a strange place…on a bed. The sheets were itchy wool, but warm enough. In fact, you were quite warm. Blinking you looked around. A cheery fire roared in a stone fireplace and the scent of the stew boiling in a pot filled your lungs. You found yourself in a little cabin. There was only one room, but it came furnished with the bed you were on, a rocking chair, and a small table with a log bench. 

“Riordan?” you called, though you were the only person in the room. 

A few moments later the door opened. You could see it was snowing outside and a puff of icy air hit your face. 

Your alpha brushed snow off his shoulders before he smiled at you. 

“You slept a long time Omega,” he chuckled, handing you a pile of what looked like linens. 

“What’s this?” you asked. “Where are we?” 

“In the mountains.” 

You looked down at the pile he’d set on your lap. 

“What are these?’ 

“Some blankets for your nest. They’re not very nice, but I’ll get you better ones soon.” 

“Where did they come from?” 

“The orc village next door. After I dropped you off here, I went looking for food and stumbled on some very surprised orcs.

They have no great love of humans, so when I explained our situation, they asked if I would join their patrol in exchange for some supplies to get us started. With my size, they see me as one of their own, I suspect.” 

“They don’t mind we’re staying in this cabin?” 

He shook his head. 

“It’s a patrol cabin, we’d be staying in it anyway. We can stay as long as we like, or move into the village if we want.” 

He grinned, pleased he could provide for you. Your Omega side purred in your head and without thinking you started organizing the furs and blankets to form a proper nest. It came instinctively to you, where everything ought to go for maximum comfort. While you were busy with that, Riordan shuffled about the cabin, straightening things and finally spooning two bowls of stew for you. 

“C’mon Omega,” he said, setting your soup on the table. “You can fuss more with your nest after dinner.” 

"Your eyes are still green? I thought you'd go red without me."

His eyebrows jumped as he considered that thought.

"I think with your scent all over me, it held it off. Perhaps it will work even better when I've given you my bite."

Your cheeks warmed at the prospect of his teeth on your neck.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the warm food filled your stomach. After all you’d been through, you felt safe. The cabin was already filled with Riordan’s comforting scent. Belly full and your nest on it’s way to a proper state, your Omega mind turned it’s attention to other matters. Your eyes drifted over Riordan’s strong shoulders, down to his thick hands. You’d always liked hands and his long strong fingers, lined with stiff veins sent heat pooling in your core. 

He looked up from his soup suddenly, sniffing the air and giving you a wicked smile. 

“Are you ready for me, Omega?” he asked and you didn’t have to wonder what he meant. 

Your body already knew. Purring, he abandoned his meal and gently set you in your nest, examining your features closely. Your cheeks burned under his careful inspection and some feral part of you wanted to tear off his clothes. 

His green eyes flashed gold and a smug smirk spread across his lips. 

“Present yourself to me, Omega,” he purred. “Invite me into your nest.” 

Those words in his grumbly bass, flicked a switch inside you. Your logical self slipped into a fog of lust, your instincts telling you to undress. With trembling hands you tugged your shirt over your head, then slipped off your pants, finally your damp underwear went. As nature told you, you scooted to the back of your nest to make room for his big body, then tipped your head to expose your neck to him. 

He thundered his approval with a deep growl. 

“Sweet little Omega,” he hummed, crawling across the sheets to you like a hungry panther. Your first kiss was soft and sweet, but was soon followed by his greedy mouth, eating you up. Your tongues and teeth clashed. He seemed desperate to taste you, pushing you onto your back to pin you to the bed. 

“Let me out,” he growled, his husky demands making your spine arch. 

Your most secret place wept for him, smearing your desire across the blankets you’d arranged. You carefully unfastened his pants, his cock bobbing to greet you. Precum dribbled down the length of it and you gave it a curious stroke. It was so big, hot, and ready for you. Under your touch, he hissed in pleasure, egging you on. It seemed impossible that that would fit inside of you, but you wanted to try. You wanted to please him, seduce him, so he’d give you his bite. 

The concept echoed in the haze enveloping your mind. 

His bite? He’s going to bite me. 

You weren’t afraid. You knew in some primordial corner of your consciousness that his bite was good. It was exclusive. With his bite you were his and he was yours. 

When your gentle teasing became too much, he flipped you on your stomach, big hand fisting your hair. 

“You were made for me, omega, but I won’t force you,” he informed you. “Tell me now. Do you want my bite?” 

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, eyelashes fluttering at the pressure on your scalp. 

“Be a good Omega and say the words,” he chided. 

“Yes, Alpha…I want your bite,” you whispered. 

“When we are like this, you will always call me Alpha.” 

“Yes, Alpha,” you moaned, body lighting up as you did what was natural to you and submitted. 

He let out a possessive chuff and you felt him nudge your legs further apart to accommodate his width. You were already plenty wet, but Riordan needed his scent in your most secret place, spreading his precum on your clenched channel.

His sticky fingers drifted over your body, covering you in his essence. You were his and he needed you to know it. 

“All of this is mine,” he hummed in somewhat of a trance, stuffing his fingers into your mouth so you could taste him. 

Unable to speak, you whimpered and sucked, the flavor of his spice on your tongue. While the fingers of one hand pushed into your mouth, the other tested your slick tunnel. Your muscles clenched at his intrusion, pleasure and need forcing you to push your hips back to seek your pleasure. 

“Good omega,” he purred, pushing another finger inside, “You’re going to take me just fine.” 

After thrusting and scissoring until your arms collapsed under you, your face pressed into the pillow and you ass sticking up, you felt the round head of his cock pushing against your core. 

“Relax. You can take it.” 

Tears slid down your cheeks as he entered you. He was large, extremely large, but your body performed some kind of Omega magic, stretching to accommodate him. He let out a gutteral grunt as he bottomed out inside. 

“So tight and hot.” 

He gave you one small thrust, to test you. 

“Do you like that?” 

“Yes, alpha!” you wailed into the pillow. 

You’d had sex before, but it was nothing like the sense of sheer domination you felt with his massive cock moving in you. Your pleasure was his, your body was his, your mind was his. 

“Show me your neck.” 

You tipped your head to bare your skin to him. He settled a hand on the spot where your throat and shoulder came together, holding you open for him as he slowly revved up his thrusts. With every ragged drive your mind unwraveled. 

Your alpha was fucking you. Your body gave him pleasure. Your cheeks burned with a sense of Omega accomplishment. You’d lived your whole life not knowing that this was what you were made for. Your heady mewls filled the little cabin as he rutted you. He curled his hands around your body, playing with your sex with his fingers. His touch drove you deeper and deeper into madness and you whimpered for more, pleading and begging into the pillow. 

He pushed you higher and higher until you were ready to implode. Seeing the time was right, Riordan bared his teeth, sinking them into your neck. It was impossible to tell if he timed it just right to bite as you came or if the bite caused you to cum, but it really didn’t matter. Suddenly you were in the stars, a sensation beyond an orgasm rolling through you along with the heat of your Alpha’s cum spilling into you. 

It felt good, and right, and explosive. You let out a yelp as colors sparkled in your vision and pressure built in your channel. 

“Wh-what?” you could only stammer. 

“Shhh, shhh, Omega, all is well. You’ve taken my knot.” 

He rocked the engorged rock into you as he stroked the most pleasurable spot with your fingers. The pressure turned into bliss and you melted into him as he licked the bite on your neck. 

“You did so good, taking my bite and my knot,” he purred, calming you. “You are a perfect Omega…so perfect.” 

He rolled on his side, smoothly taking you with him so as not to disturb the shaft linking the two of you. 

“I’m yours now?” you squeaked, thoughts still scattered. 

It was the only thing you could put together. 

“Yes, sweet one. You’re mine.” 

You let your body relax, his scent perfuming your nest. You were safe, marked, and all was as it should be. 

Bluesky -- Carrd -- Commissions -- Instagram -- Threads -- Subscribestar -- Art

[thefangirlfever]

Stress relief (Miguel O'hara x AFAB reader, 18+)

Minors Do not interact

Summary: Sometimes all the self-care you need is a good drink, a bath, your favorite toy...and your boyfriend.

Tags: F/M, smut, PIV penetration, mention of masturbation (M/F), shower sex (it's a bath but you get the idea), condom use, use of toys, doggy style, slight nipple/ breast play, established relationship, very self-indulgent, no plot just smut, mirror sex, hint at slight body dismorphia/ insecurity (it's very light but please be careful and prioritize yourself)

See the end for notes

Word count: 4111

It has been a long day today and you definitely needed to relax. When you got home and found the apartment alone, you decided to indulge into some self-care. You had taken your favorite vibrator, a drink and ran yourself a bath. As the water warmed up, you removed your clothes one by one, letting out a huge sigh of relief when your bra fell down the tiles of the room. After dipping a toe into the water, you finally adjusted the temperature and waited a few seconds before fully diving into it. At this point you didn’t care about the temperature being more of an aggression to your skin than anything else. In fact it even made you feel good and woke you up a bit after this whole day feeling a bit numb. You liked your job but there were some days when you felt like the whole universe was testing you out. Today was one of these days.

A few minutes was all you needed to adjust to the temperature and you soon felt very relaxed. You even closed your eyes a bit as your head rested against the cold wall behind you. Your every movement would create small ripples through the water and you would move your arms from time to time watching the way the small droplets would trickle down your skin or how the foam of the soap was making you look like you were on some cloud. It truly felt like this somehow. Finally a time where you could just exist. Simply existing without doing anything.

But you had prepared yourself in case you would still get bored. With a swift motion you caught the pink toy resting on the corner of the sink and looked at it. Its round shape and soft edges made it look quite unassuming but you knew that as soon as you would push on that small button on the bottom of it, it would only take you five minutes to orgasm.

Just when you were about to enjoy yourself, you heard the front door opening and soon a voice called for you:

“Y/N?”

Miguel must have seen your shoes lined up in the hallway when he came back. You were not expecting him to come back home this early but it was a rather pleasant surprise.

“I’m right here.” He followed the sound of your voice and soon you heard him knocking at the door of the bathroom. You didn’t even bother fully closing the door but he still cared enough about your privacy to not come in directly.

“It’s alright, you can come in.”

Miguel’s silhouette soon filled up the door frame. He was still dressed in his work attire, black slacks and a white shirt. He couldn’t hold back a grin when he saw you wallowed in your bath.

“Getting cozy, I see…”, he commented with a grin while leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. You couldn’t stop your eyes from trailing up and down his silhouette, especially around his broad chest, squeezed tightly between his crossed arms making the fabric of his shirt cling to his skin even more.

“Let me guess, rough day?” You nodded your head and leaned against the edge of the bathtub with your arms crossed, your chin resting on them, which mimicked his own posture. If it made him chuckle at first, his face took a different expression when he saw how the water was trickling down the curve of your body.

“It was...a long day.”, you replied. With a nonchalant look, he untied his tie and made his way to you. You didn’t miss a single one of his movements as he then sat down the edge of the bathtub, being careful enough to not get some water on his clothes.

“Well, that sure is a way to relax.” He dipped his fingers onto the bathwater. It was not as hot as it used to be but he still winced a bit.

“How are you not burning in this?”, he joked. You simply shrugged your shoulders which had for a result to make more water slide down your skin and to move a bit the foam of soap covering you.

“I don’t know. I think it’s the perfect temperature.”, you finally replied as Miguel’s eyes deviated from your soaked figure to the edge of the sink. His gaze locked on the pink toy and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Did I interrupt something?” You rolled your eyes at his cheeky grin and shrugged again. This time, his eyes followed the road the drops took as they slide down the curve of your bust before disappearing inside the water, right where he could see the top of your breasts clear of all soap.

“You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Oh good then.” He wasn’t sure if he should leave you alone and give you some privacy but since you didn’t seem to push him away, he decided to stay. It’s not like he ad anything better to do and the view was enough for a reason for him to stay here.

“So...you wanna talk about today or…”

By the way you buried your face into your arms, he had already guessed the answer. Since you had decided to go non-verbal he stayed quiet too. Either way, he was a firm believer that actions could speak louder than words. He slid a bit closer to you and pushed your hair away from the water so it wouldn’t get soaked. His fingers lingered a bit around your nape, gently tracing the curve of your slender neck, ever so slightly running down your spine which made you squirm a bit.

“Sorry...forgot you were ticklish.”, he apologized in a low voice, watching the water ripple around your body and your form peeking under the clear surface.

“It’s alright. You can keep doing this…”, whatever that was. Miguel’s eyebrows rose slightly but he didn’t question this for too long and his fingers soon traced your spine and this time he began massaging your scalp softly, trying to ease the worries away.

“Better?”

You almost purred out of delight which made him definitely feel like he was doing the right thing. When he was done massaging you this way, he grabbed a washcloth and began rubbing it along your shoulders and back. This time, your body was fully relaxed and he almost thought you light have fallen asleep. This didn’t stop him from washing your skin minutely, still making sure your hair wouldn’t get in the way of his work. Your skin soon glistened under the bathroom’s lightning and he found it a bit harder to keep his touching innocent, especially since the soap had dissolved, leaving you practically bare in front of him.

“You didn’t tell me about your day?”

Your voice took him out of his contemplation and he collected himself as quick as he could, looking away from the tantalizing sight that was no longer out of reach.

“It was a pretty boring day. Nothing extraordinary.”

From leaving your silhouette, his eyes soon landed on the shape of the toy. He must admit that this little thing...intrigued him. He knew you were using a vibrator and quite frankly, he couldn’t care less. Miguel was confident enough in his abilities to not feel frightened by such a small thing. However he did find it a waste of money for something that could be done… manually but he could definitely see the appeal of it.

His curious gaze toward the toy didn’t go unnoticed and you grabbed the toy, took the lid off and showed it to him. He was definitely not expecting such a shape. Even in your hands the toy looked...small. It was nothing more than a pebble.

“Here, take it.”, you said with a smile while putting the toy inside his palm. This thing didn’t stop to surprise him. It was quite light and...very soft. As he brushed his thumb against it, he encountered what he supposed should act like a mouth on you. He felt a weird sensation tracing the outline of the ‘mouth’, thinking about how many times it has ended up stuck to your clit.

Okay, maybe he was feeling a bit insecure… and jealous. God, he must be really pathetic for being jealous of some piece of plastic. But you didn’t help at all when you said just how powerful that little thing was:

“It has 10 different variations and it’s made to make you reach an orgasm in five minutes.”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh when you saw his expression of horror.

“Five minutes? But...what’s the point?”

“I’m sorry, what?”, you asked while looking at him. You had shifted your body in the water which made it ripple around you and now there wasn’t much covering you.

“What’s the point of this? Where’s the fun?”, he replied.

“Hum...in cumming?”, you replied sarcastically while cocking an eyebrow. You must have missed something or he didn’t understand the purpose of a vibrator. “You know most people enjoy that.”

“No, I know...but...what about the rest? The anticipation, the undressing, the foreplay...you can’t talk with this thing like you do with your partner… you don’t feel things the same way…That’s not what I call making love.”

Miguel almost immediately regretted what he said. He must have sounded like an idiot and he was waiting for you to tease him about this...and you delivered:

“Well, you sure have a lot of opinions about this…”, you replied after a short silence. But as much as you were teasing him, his speech did have an effect on you. You knew Miguel and how he was about those things. The man never even considered doing a quickie so he would never simply take an orgasm as enough of a reason to use a toy. He was rather old school and you couldn’t complain. For a lot of people, sex was just a way to release some tension, it was barely more than a pulsion. It was just ‘fucking’ and you’ve lived your life this way until you’ve met him.

“And what if I do?”, he replied with quite the attitude, “You wouldn’t dare telling me I’m wrong?”

“Oh I would never…”, you replied with a sly smile. Your hand was now dangerously close to his knee and he didn’t dare letting his eyes roam anywhere lower than your chin. “I just find this weird given that you didn’t even try this thing…”

Miguel almost choked on his spit: “Try it? How am I supposed to use it? In case you didn’t notice I do not have a vagina.”

“Oh trust me, I did notice.”, you replied with the same sly tone. “But this toy can be used by two people and no matter your biological sex... You could use it on your nipples for example…”

As much as he wanted to look offended by this idea, Miguel couldn’t help but look down at the slit in the toy. Could that thing really… Just how powerful was this toy? You watched his cheeks flare up with great satisfaction as he stuttered:

“That’s...crazy…”

“Or you could use it one me.”

Oh...now he could see where this was going. And quite frankly, the idea was rather tempting. A mental image of your body spread for him while you writhed around and moaned louder and louder flashed through his mind and he could definitely see the appeal of it. However he shook his head:

“I don’t need this thing.”

Your smug snicker made him regret his words immediately as you explained the perks of the toy:

“It’s not a question of need. The toy is not your enemy but your ally.”

He continued to observe the toy quite curiously, with a bit less of animosity in his gaze. Finally, after a few seconds, his small voice broke the silence of the room: “You would let me use it on you?”

“Absolutely.” Your blunt response didn’t leave any room for doubt...and he liked that. The prospect of making you feel good combined to the sight of your soaked body made his cock strain against his pants and a devious grin crossed his face. The sight of your fingers wrapping around his tie and pulling him closer made that grin grow into a full-on smile and he could only oblige and kiss you as you wished.

Your body smelled absolutely divine with a mix of your lotion and soap, a sugary mix of vanilla and argan oil that made your skin glisten. His free arm wrapped around your back, not caring one bit if he might get wet in the process and your hands cupped his face during your kiss. Your nails scratch around his five o’clock shadow and then traveled lower down his body. The water made the fabric of his shirt cling to his chest, making his pectoral and abs visible under the now see-through material.

He was on his knees in front of the bathtub to reach you better, in a position that could only be qualified as one of devotion. He has seen the exhaustion in your eyes, your tired face… he had now only one mission, making you feel good. Making you forget all about the ups and down of your day and focus only on your pleasure.

One of his hands tugged at your hair, tilting your head back so he could have an easier access to the delicate skin of your neck, which he quickly nipped at. You could be sure you would find a few marks there the next morning…

“Can I take you out of this bath?”, he murmured against your skin, his lips tickling your flesh with their slow, languid dance.

“You better get me out of here.” And the small grin on your lips was enough of a motivation. His arms wrapped around you and he scooped you up until your body was pressed into his. His shirt was definitely ruined now, the fabric drenched but that was the least of his concern when he had every single inch on your skin pressed against him...especially against a very sensitive part of him.

Miguel gently put you down the bathroom counter which made you wince. The cold marble was quite the unexpected sensation after the welcoming warmth of the bath. In fact your whole body shivered in contact with the cold surface and the cool air of the bathroom.

“Something wrong, honey?” You shook your head at Miguel’s concerned tone.

“It’s just...a bit cold…”, you chuckled awkwardly. His brows frowned and he mumbled under his breath: “Sorry about that...I didn’t think of this…”.

He quickly brought a towel for you to sit on and wrapped an other one around your shoulders, using into rub your goosebumps-covered arms:

“Better?”

His small apologetic voice, the rise of his brows when he asked you that question and the strong friction of his hands definitely made you feel better.

“Better.”, you replied while placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When he felt your fingertips toying with the small curls around his face, a groan escaped Miguel’s throat. In a few seconds, his face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he breathed into your delicate fragrance. His hands rubbed your sides and his warm breath could soon be felt down your chest.

“Let’s warm you up a bit…”

His lips kissed the slope of your breasts, feeling how warm and flushed they were after the bath, almost tender. His tongue flicked one of your nipples while his hand toyed with the other one and an idea popped in his mind. With his free hand he reached for the toy. In one swift movement he removed the lid and he pressed the on-button. A soft buzzing sound could filled the bathroom and he swore he could have seen you clenching your thighs almost in a Pavlovian reflex.

There’s no way this little thing could have such a hold on you. Could it be?

“May I?”, he asked with your nipple still in his mouth. You could definitely hear the amusement, the smirk in his voice. Your hand guided his wrist holding the vibrator between your thighs. If he thought your breasts were alluring, it was nothing compared to your lush thighs. Was it just the water or...were you already wet?

When the mouth of the toy pressed against your slit and began to massage your lips, he could feel the direct effect on your body. Your whole being tensed and your back arched, pushing your breast deeper in his mouth. Maybe he liked this thing.

He kept the toy on your for a few seconds until he felt a strange movement coming from you. You were...almost humping the toy. No, you were definitely humping it. And that’s when he understood why it was shaped like this. The little mouth wasn’t doing all the job. There was this small bump under it, as wide as a thumb that would...rotate and rub at your entrance providing a double stimulation.

His scientific mind was in awe of such a technology.

His horny side greatly enjoyed the show.

“You can...increase the speed…”

At first he thought he had misheard your words but when he saw your fingers fiddling with the buttons, he thought he was in some sort of dream. His cheeks flared up, seeing you so needy and hungry, not afraid to show your needs… He could practically feel his cock twitching down his pants. It would be a miracle if he didn’t come undone just from the sound of that toy sucking and penetrating you at the same time.

“Oh God…”, he moaned before taking your breast in his mouth again, suckling on your nipple again. The combined stimulation of his mouth and the toy quickly brought you to an orgasm and Miguel definitely felt like he was close too from the sight of your body shaking and your voice chanting in pleasure.

He released your nipple as soon as you came but chose to not turn the vibrator off. He had to admit that the buzzing sound was quite...comforting. That after-glow on your face from your climax made it harder for him to resist his urge and his hand was now rubbing the bulge in the front of his pants, trying to ease the uncomfortable pressure.

“Miguel...do you want to…”

“Yes.”

You both didn’t need more to know what to do. His hand unbuckled his belt while you grabbed a condom from the bathroom counter. He swiftly put it on and his eyes stopped on your fingers as you were about to turn the toy off.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, quite confused.

“Mhh...turning it off since we are going to..you know…”

“I want you to keep it between your legs...please.” He thought you would reject his idea but your devilish grin let him know you had understood his idea.

“Looks like you’re now a fan.”, you teased him as he pushed your hair aside to kiss your neck. His tongue grazed your sweaty skin as he murmured: “How could I hate something that makes you feel good? Something that makes you look so good…”

“Wait...you mean to tell me I look good in this moment? I always thought I would make some pretty weird faces.”, you chuckled.

“But I like your weird faces.”, he whispered like a secret while kissing your neck up to your jaw. “I like how focused you look in this moment...how you always bite your lip...how your tongue stuck out a bit...how you arch your back…” His mouth pressed against your shoulder and he hummed softly against your skin, the vibration resonating with the one between your thighs.

“I think you should see for yourself…”, he teased you and you understood what he was hinting at. The large mirror just behind you… his fingers gently rubbed your sides in a silent request and when you nodded your head, he helped you turn over.

You were now facing the large mirror of the bathroom. The warm light didn’t make any secret of your every imperfection, dilated pores after the heat of the bath, the lines of your clothes when they had cut through your skin over the day, the marks, the cuts… And yet there was Miguel and his loving gaze, looking at you like you were a painting. One of his hands was holding the toy between your legs, not being disgusted in any way by the small pudge of your belly, whether there could be stretch marks there, body hair, scars or even no trace of feminine curve he would still love it. His thumb was drawing lazy circles over your skin; his lips were kissing your shoulder blade and his other hand drew the curve of your breasts.

“You’re gorgeous.”

His low voice made a shiver run down your back, the same way his fingers did.

“Just look at you. I want you to see for yourself…” His fingers gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head up so you could see your reflection. And now, in this tiny fraction of time you could see yourself through his eyes. You didn’t see the imperfections anymore or rather you had accepted them… and they looked so vain compared to the rest, compared to all you had to offer.

“You’re even more beautiful when you start moving…”, he whispered into your ear while his cock rubbed against your back. And you immediately understood what he meant when he entered you, when your back arched against him, when your waist whined and swayed languidly...as if you were dancing.

You barely noticed him increasing the speed on the vibrator but you definitely felt the pulsating air blowing with more intensity on your swollen clit. You were a sloppy mess down there, your walls clenching out of your control, your slick juices coating your thighs, your musky, dizzying scent filling up both your senses, overpowering everything else…

“Shh it’s okay...just breathe in...you’re doing so good…”

Miguel’s voice was only a murmur, a plead the longer your act lasted. He was now panting, groaning into your ears every time he would pull out before diving into you. His slow, deep thrusts contrasted with the steady and fast pace of the toy and you were slowly feeling dizzy. Your breath was more labored and heavy as if you had to use every last ounce of your strength even for this.

“You can lean on me, baby...it’s okay...you’re almost there…” Miguel’s praise and support, literally, guided you through these last moments before your orgasm. It wasn’t a sudden outburst but rather a slow and steady walk, like a hike through a mountain and when you reached the top of it… Your voice rose a bit higher as you whimpered incomprehensible words and your whole body turned into some mush as your vision was clouded by the relief of your vision.

Miguel’s lips were wrapped around the spot on your neck where your pulse was beating, too busy sucking on your already existing hickey when he felt your inner walls clench and spasm around his cock. The tightness made him groan and he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

His chest was pressing tightly against you back and his hands held your hips in place as he finally came into one last thrust. The two of you were now skin to skin, trying to catch your breath when you heard the sound of an electronic device shutting down.

The vibrator had just ran out of battery.

This was usually very frustrating for you but this time, you could only chuckle, amused by the timing of it all and by Miguel’s reaction.

“Gosh...that’s all?”, he asked in a slightly disappointed voice and this time you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, did I say something funny?”, he asked with a confused expression that slowly turned into a teasing grin. His lips brushed against your ear and he nipped at your earlobe all while giving your butt a small squeeze:

“Not gonna lie, I’m kinda disappointed in this thing’s...stamina.”

“As if you weren’t tired yourself…”, you nudged him in the chest while laughing. He rolled his eyes back but he couldn’t deny how he enjoyed this small banter. His lips pressed a small kiss on the side of your face and he replied:

“Okay okay. I admit that I might need to rest a bit but...maybe later?”

His fingers hinted at something nice as they resumed stroking your stomach.

“I could definitely use some stress relief later tonight…”

“That’s what I was thinking…”

================================================

Notes: Youhou! I'm not late publishing it!

That was very self-indulgent because I’m stressed out, on my period and college is kicking my butt.

Thanks for reading!

My masterlist

[mrsmarinara]

So excited for the summer series! The prompts you chose were perfect! It was impossible to just pick one! May I please request 5 with Jack?

Hazy Clarity || Jack Hughes x reader

Prompt: 5. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

WC: 2.1k

A/N: I really am trying to get through these requests. Promise. Anyways I hope you like this.

Warnings: drug use (for medical reasons)

Summary: You thought you knew what you were getting into when you volunteered to take care of Jack after his surgery.

When you volunteered to be with and take care of Jack after his surgery you thought you knew what you were getting yourself into. Dating Jack for a year and knowing him for a year beforehand meant that you had seen him injured before and that usually, you would skip going to your apartment in favor of spending your time in his to make sure he was okay. Perhaps being there after Jack had his surgery was more so to calm your anxious mind but even though he wasn’t completely awake and coherent, he still seemed to appreciate the company.

Antsy. That was the best way to describe Jack. Since you met him it seemed like he always had to be doing something, even if it was just sitting down, if he wasn’t talking he would bounce his leg or constantly tap his fingers. It was like watching a child try and contain a sugar rush. So it was a little off-putting to watch as Jack sat on your couch, still as could be. He had several pillows cushioning his arm as he dozed quietly.

Quietly, so you wouldn’t wake him up, you grabbed the thickest throw blanket you had and covered Jack with it. He barely stirred as you tucked the blanket loosely around him. You stifled a giggle as you watched him twitch his nose at your actions before going still again.

When it was clear that he wasn’t waking up anytime soon you checked your phone only to see several dozen messages from his teammates, friends, and family. They ranged from asking how Jack was feeling and if he was doing better to asking how you were managing. You replied to all of them, letting everyone know that Jack is doing fine and recovering well. When you got to Jack’s family you gave a little more detail, telling Ellen that there was no need to worry and that he’s mostly been asleep because of the pain medication. Luke had asked if he should come to visit after the season ends to help with everything but you reassured him that he would see Jack soon and that you had everything under control. You wished him luck on the few remaining games the Devils still had to play and made sure to let him know that you and Jack would be watching them.

Once you managed to respond to every text you plugged your phone into the charger in the living room and made your way into the kitchen to make something for dinner.

When he was awake, Jack proved to be rather ravenous. It didn’t surprise you at all, even when he was healthy and uninjured he could still eat you out of house and home. You didn’t want to test the limits of his medication and end up having him throw up the food you made later. So you finally landed on making the salmon you had just recently bought and tomato cucumber avocado salad.

Your apartment wasn’t all that big. If you poked your head out of the kitchen you could see directly into the living room. So halfway through cooking you heard it when Jack woke up. You didn’t immediately rush to him, choosing rather to stay in the kitchen and finish the meal you were making.

You were filled with anxiety since the moment he got injured. I’m fact, you felt rather positive that if you went back to the hospital waiting room, where you sat as he had surgery, you would see a hole in the floor that you caused from the nonstop pacing you did as you waited to hear from the surgeon. Even when Jack was finally allowed to come home you couldn’t stop your mind from racing. Was your apartment clean enough? Did you have enough space for him to get better? What if he tried to do something that only made his injury worse?

You weren’t a nurse or a doctor. You had no background in medicine so the task of taking care of your healing boyfriend was daunting, to say the least. What you did have, though, was two years of knowing Jack. You could read his mood and body language better than anybody else. You knew when he was hurt, stressed, or upset and you knew exactly what to do to help. At least most of the time.

So when you heard some light shuffling from the living room and a quiet cough you knew he was awake. When you heard the television being turned on and the soft noise from it you were only proven right.

It doesn’t take you long to finish cooking and once you’re done you make two plates and head back out to the living room. You smile at the sight that greets you. Jack added another pillow to prop up his arm and found another throw blanket the wrap around himself. He blinks a bit sluggishly from underneath the blankets but the soft smile that adorns his face when he sees you makes it feel like butterflies are fluttering around in your stomach.

You smile back at him and set the plate of food on the coffee table. When you sit down you immediately feel Jack's cheeks and forehead for any warmth. The doctors told you to keep an eye out for any signs of a fever in the first few days after his surgery. His cheeks were warm but nothing that should have you worrying. It was only the warmth of sleep that still clung to him and made his cheeks rosy red.

Before you could pull your hand away Jack nuzzled into your touch. His eyes slipped close again and a sigh left his mouth. You ignored the way your heart beat faster and pulled your hand back gently.

“Hey, pretty boy, how’re feeling?” You asked softly.

Jack quietly groaned before forcing his eyes back open. His eyes were still red and glossy from sleep and when he spoke his voice was husky and his talking slow. “Still in a lot of pain.”

You glanced at the clock you had hanging on your wall to see how much time had passed since the last time you gave him any pain medication.

“You can have more medicine if you eat,” you gestured to the plate you had brought out. Jack followed to where your fingers were pointing. “It’s not good to take medication on an empty stomach.”

Jack hummed in acknowledgment before trying to sit up to eat. You watched him as he winced in pain but he didn’t say anything so you decided it was best for you to not bring anything up.

Halfway through eating and watching a rerun of The Office that was playing Jack sighed and put his fork down.

“I love your cooking,” he said almost wistfully. You glanced down at his plate and saw that only half of it was eaten, which was better than yesterday when he refused to eat anything.

“I would say thank you but I know that you routinely eat cold leftover pizza,” you huffed out a small laugh. That didn’t mean that Jack didn’t know how to cook. He could make something to sustain somebody but you couldn’t count on both of your hands the amount of times you had gone over to his apartment and saw a fridge with no food and just Gatorade and beer.

“I’m pretty confident you're the best cook I know.” He said as he burrowed himself back into the couch and under the blankets.

When he winced again you didn’t hesitate to reach over to the end table and grab the bottle of medication that he was prescribed. When you gave him the pills he immediately tipped his head back and swallowed them without water.

“I’m probably biased, though,” Jack said once he could.

You raised your eyebrow in curiosity. You finished chewing the food in your mouth before asking, “Biased how?”

“I love everything you do.”

Warmth floods your cheeks at his declaration. You hoped Jack wouldn’t notice it or that the medication would make him forget about it tomorrow. It’s not that you were embarrassed to let him see the effect he had on you, you just knew that if he was more coherent and present he’d probably tease you and perhaps it was self-absorbed or vain but all you wanted was to bask in his affections for you right now.

“Oh?” It was all you could think to say. Jack wasn’t the most affectionate when it came to words. It was obvious that his love language was physical touch so it’s not as if you had much experience in dealing with him saying sweet things randomly.

Jack hummed and nodded his head slowly. The pills you had given him were starting to kick in, you could tell as his eyelids grew heavier with every blink and the way his head slightly bobbed around as if he was trying to keep himself awake.

“Yeah,” his voice was low and slightly stirred but he kept his blue eyes trained on you. “I love everything about you.”

A bashful smile bloomed on your face and you didn’t try to hide it from your boyfriend. You placed your plate back on the table and kissed his cheek, “I love you too, Jack.”

When you pulled away and looked at Jack you were surprised to see a frown on his lips. He didn’t look upset or angry at what you said. Instead, he looked like he was thinking hard about something.

You didn’t lean back in for a kiss but instead, you lifted your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb over the wrinkles on his forehead. “Tell me what you’re thinking about otherwise you’ll end up with wrinkles from all that frowning.”

“You don’t get it, baby,” he spoke so softly you had to strain to hear him. “I love you. I love everything about you and I know you love me but it’s not even a comparison because I know I love you more than you love me.”

“That’s not true,” his words had left you feeling breathless but despite his sweet words, you needed him to know how much you loved him. “I can’t even put into words how much you mean to me.”

Jack’s eyes slid close but his soft and sleepy smile stayed. “You don’t get it, you’re like…” he paused for a long moment to find the right words. “You’re like the sun and I’m like a plant. I’m always seeking you out and I wouldn’t be able to survive if you were gone.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. A part of you wished that you had gotten it on camera because even though Jack was never one to shy away from talking about anything, he had never said anything remotely close to what he just told you.

However, it didn’t seem like he was looking for a response because less than a few seconds after his head dropped onto one of the many pillows behind him.

You say still on the couch for a moment waiting for your racing heart to go back to its regular rhythm. Once you felt stable again, you grabbed the plates as quietly as you could to not wake your boyfriend. When you stood from the couch to bring the dishes to the kitchen you were startled by the light grip on your arm. You looked down to see Jack had reached out to stop you from leaving.

“You know, I meant what I said right?” He asked, his eyes were still closed and his grip on you was becoming more and more loose by the second.

You grabbed his hand and set it down on his chest. “I know, Jacky.”

When he spoke again his words were slow and slurred, “Good, because you're the best thing to ever happen to me.”

The last few words were almost inaudible and before you could reply Jack was asleep. You smiled down at your sleeping boyfriend with a fond smile.

You brushed a piece of hair that was in his face away and leaned down to kiss his forehead softly.

“Trust me, I feel the same way.”

You know he couldn’t hear you but it felt important to you to say it out loud. When you finally left the living room and placed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher you couldn’t help but think that volunteering to take care of Jack after his surgery was a better decision than you originally had thought.

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 5 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: the morning after

a/n: i love making people cry so some pretty angsty stuff up ahead 😁 forgive me for turning paige into a slight asshole

word count: 1.8k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO

The green LED light on Paige’s alarm clock blinked 3:07 AM. Paige had been up for the past two hours. Tossing and turning seemed like the right phrase, but she didn’t want to wake you, so all the turmoil stayed inside her head.

A burst of warmth ran through her body and flooded her senses whenever she looked at you. You were curled up against her side, lightly snoring. You looked so soft in the moonlight, and Paige wanted to take a photo of you like this and ingrain it inside her brain. But her mind’s been running non stop for the past 120 minutes, overcome with regret over what you two had just done.

Paige had always known of her tendencies. She wouldn’t call herself a player, because she never intentionally led girls on. She always made it clear to her one night stands what they were - a hookup, with no strings attached. But some girls never seemed to get it. Every so often there would be someone who got attached to Paige after just one night together and ended up leaving her apartment in tears, cursing her name. She hated when that happened, hated seeing them cry.

So she vowed to herself never to sleep with you. Not because she didn’t want you, because God knows how many sleepless nights she spent in this very bed, dreaming about the pink of your lips and the curve of your hips. But because she knew how complicated things would get. Your friendship was the one thing that had remained stable in Paige’s life the past few years. There mere thought of losing you made her heart pound and head throb.

So Paige had stayed strong. Never mind all those moments where her hands had lingered on your waist a little too long, or the fact that the wallpaper of her lock screen and home screen were both pictures with you, or the fact that you were the only person pinned on her messages app besides her family. She knew she couldn’t have you.

Paige brushed a strand of hair from your eyes, letting the pad of her thumb trail down your cheek. You stirred in your sleep, a smile drifting faintly across your lips, and shifted closer to her, burying your face in her abdomen. And in that moment, Paige realized two things.

#1. She was in love with you. Yeah, she’d always loved you as a friend. You were thoughtful and supportive, a best friend a person could ask for. But beyond that, you made her feel seen. To you, Paige wasn’t just a basketball player or a pretty face. You had broken through her barriers and made the effort to know her on every level, and that was what Paige in love with you.

#2. She didn’t deserve you. Paige thought back to all those times she’d canceled on movie nights because somehow she’d ended up again at the bar with her teammates, flirting with pretty girls while the prettiest girl sat alone in her room. Or when she’d briefly dated Anna, who had apparently been cold to you for their entire relationship, always making snide comments when Paige wasn’t around. But you had saw how happy Paige was (but not as happy as she was whenever she was with you), and had kept silent, not wanting to ruin Paige’s relationship. And even though Paige had broken up with Anna as soon as she’d found out about her behavior, she couldn’t quiet the voices in her head blaming her for letting someone treat you like that. You were the best person in the world, Paige thought. And you deserve someone who can give you all of that. Not me.

So after having come to those two conclusions, Paige knew what she had to do.

——————————-

You woke up in a daze. Checking your phone, you realized it was only 8 AM. Tired, you slumped back into the pilllow. The events of last night only came back to you when you moved the sheets of Paige’s bed and saw your bra.

You couldn’t help but smile as memories of fisted sheets, shaking legs, and hands intertwined in each other’s hairs came flooding back. You pressed your fingers to your lips, the lips that Paige had kissed over and over again just hours before. You and Paige had slept together, and everything had felt so right. And god, that was the best head you’d ever gotten.

Getting up, you heard clattering in the kitchen and footsteps outside. Assuming it was Paige, you didn’t bother to cover up when the door swung open, but your mouth fell open when you came face to face with Azzi.

“Oh my god!” Azzi shrieked. Both of you stared at each other for a second before you grabbed the comforter off Paige’s bed to cover your body. “Get out, get out, get out!” you yelled.

Azzi slammed the door. Heart beating fast, you rushed to find your clothes. “Did I just see what I thought I saw?” Azzi yelled from the other side of the door.

“Azzi Fudd, I will smack you,” you yelled back as you started to pull on your jeans.

“Did you and Paige sleep together?” She screamed. “Oh my god, she’ll kill me if she finds out I walked in on you like this.”

You fiddled with the buttons on your jeans. “That’s why we’re gonna keep this a secret. You’re not gonna tell anyone we slept together.”

“What?! But now Aaliyah and Nika owe me twenty dollars,” she complained.

You tugged on your shirt. “I’m gonna pretend that you didn’t just tell me that three of our closest friends made a bet on us sleeping together.” You opened the door and glared at a sheepish Azzi. “Now where the hell is Paige?”

“I dunno. I heard her leaving an hour ago. I thought I was home alone. You scared the shit out of me,” Azzi side eyed your sex and bed hair, and you ran your hand through it, trying to make it look less messy. “So, how was it?” Azzi leaned towards you with a sly smirk on her face. “Was it good?”

“Oh my god, Azzi.” You pushed her out of the way and grabbed your purse from the couch. “I’m leaving. You better keep your mouth shut.”

“No promises!” Azzi called after you, cackling as you left the apartment.

—————————

5 DAYS LATER

“Open the fucking door, Bueckers.” You rapped on the door of Paige’s apartment, impatiently tapping your foot as you waited.

After you heard noises from inside but she still refused to open the door, you knocked even harder. “I know you’re in there, asshole. Azzi told me you’ve been in here the entire day.”

Finally the door swung open, and I laid eyes on Paige for the first time since we’d slept together 5 days ago. Her hair was in a messy low bun, and she was wearing her grey UConn sweatpants and a sports bra. You ignored the blush that rose from your neck from seeing her bare abdomen, all sculpted and taut, and instead glared at her.

“What the fuck, Paige? You haven’t responded to any of my texts and calls in the last week. Are you seriously ghosting me?” You pushed past her into the apartment.

Paige stared at you, still not saying anything. The last five days had been hell. You knew that sleeping with your best friend would change things. It would be awkward, and unsure, but you and Paige have always been able to figure everything out. So you didn’t expect for her to drop all communication with you, leaving you alone in bed the morning after and then ignoring all your attempts to talk to her after.

Paige smirked at you, but it wasn’t tantalizing and seductive like the last time you saw her. It was sharp, calculated, like she knew something that you didn’t. “Damn, I was that good, wasn’t I?”

“Paige, I need you to be serious right now.” Your voice was rising in pitch, your frustration showing. “We need to talk about us.”

Paige folded her arms, and she had never looked so distant. “What is there to talk about?”

You pushed her, not hard, but enough for her to stumble back. “Okay, so you fucked your best friend, and now you don’t even wanna talk about it?”

Paige swallowed, and she looked away. “We lost in the Final Four that night.”

“Yeah, so?” Your face was flushed red with anger, and you felt hot all over. “What’s that gotta do with anything?”

She turned back to look at you. Her face was impassive now, and you wondered at who this girl in front of you was. It seemed like you didn’t even know her, this version of Paige. “It was a tough game,” she said curtly. “I needed to blow off some steam, and you were there.”

I needed to blow off some steam, and you were there.

You physically recoiled. Those words resounded in your mind, ricocheting from every corner, repeating itself until you went numb. You tasted something bitter in your mouth, a confirmation of what you had been worrying yourself sick about 24/7 for the past several days. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Paige regarded you coolly. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you thought that night was a declaration of love or something. I mean yeah, you weren’t bad for your first time, but it was just sex.”

A jumble of something terrible and bitter began brewing in your stomach. It was a mixture of anger, and horror, and shock and pain, threatening to spill over. You didn’t know whether you wanted to sob or throw up. That night you had basically admitted to Paige that you had wanted her for so long but…had you been so foolish to believe that she actually liked you back?

“You’re really nothing but a slut, huh,” you scoffed. You felt like a dagger was stabbing you, brutally piercing you in the heart as those words were spit from your mouth, but you were so angry, so furious, you couldn’t stop. “You don’t care about anything but getting laid. You’re so fucking shallow.”

For a moment, you thought you saw hurt flash through Paige’s eyes. But she quickly recovered, and her face turned stony again. “I’m not the one who was like a little fan girl, so desperate that you jumped on me as soon as I gave you the chance.” Her lip curled.

We, whatever we were, were over, and we both knew it. We were throwing out insults, maiming each other in an attempt to mollify our own hurt. We were drowning, and you knew it, god you knew it, your lungs felt on fire and you felt like you were losing everything in my life all at once. And you were too weak to stop it. Too cowardly to apologize, to take all your words back, to tell her you loved her so much, that you would be willing to stay friends and only friends and ignore the fact that you were heads over heels for her, just so she would stay in your life and you could go back to what you were before you made the most stupid decision of your lives.

But none of that came out. Instead, you said words that you didn’t mean.

“Don’t talk to me ever again, Bueckers. I fucking hate you.”

“Gladly.”

[emmasbrain]

Miscommunication (the fun kind) Part 2

This is part 2, trust when I say it makes very little sense without part 1.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Synopsis: You meet him for your date, but it’s cut a little short.

Warnings: None I can think of other than cringe writing.

A/N: This took ages man, I don’t know what happened but I just felt a block so many apologies for taking so long.

As you click the little green button, you feel unnecessarily nervous. “Hello.”

“Hi.” He replies, and the smile that graces your lips can be heard from the other end of the phone.

“Doc. I’m glad you called.” You try to play it cool, but you know he can sense your excitement anyway.

“I’m glad you asked me to. Look, I’m on my way to a case right now, but I was thinking that when I get back we could do something? Go for dinner, maybe?” He sounds as nervous as you feel, and your heart spikes a little.

“Dinner sounds great. Have you thought of a place?” You do a little spin in the living room of your small apartment and you hear chatter in the background of the call.

“There’s this little restaurant that I normally get takeout from. I know them pretty well so they’ll keep me a table on short notice. They’ve got everything so statistically there’s bound to be something you like.” The way he speaks reaches a spot in your brain, fast and passionate, even about the most mundane things.

“I know I’m gonna like it because you do, and I trust your taste.” You bite your lip, wondering if that was too much.

“You should, I’m very particular.” His voice betrays the fact that he’s grinning, and you match his expression.

“I like particular. Particular is good.” Your voice has dropped a little subconsciously, and he’s about to reply when you hear the familiar voice of Agent Hotchner alerting Spencer that they need him.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you when I’m home?” You almost sigh in contentment at just the sound of him, but you snap out of it quickly to reply.

“I’ll be waiting patiently, Doc. I’ll see you.” You hang up, and stand in the middle of your living room for what seems like an hour but truly is only a few minutes. Why are you so attracted to this guy you only met a few nights ago?

But you feel as though you know him, from the way Penelope has talked about him, from the time you spent together. You feel as though you know them all.

—

You just sent in the final draft of your latest article. This one had been an absolute nightmare, being asked to write a piece on climate change. Your editors loved you for your fresh takes, but after so long there was no angle on climate change that hadn’t already been written. They seem fairly happy with it, but you can’t help the nagging feeling of wishing you could have done the proposed piece on how tourism is ruining the economy like you had wanted.

Through the annoyance of knowing you could have done better, you still feel slightly more at ease knowing the article is finished and out of your hands, and that you can relax and drink your fourth mug of coffee for the day. It’s eleven am.

But as you stand to stretch your achy muscles and make some fresh coffee, your phone rings. You know who it is before you even pick up, but make sure to check anyway just in case.

‘Spencer’ flashes on your screen, and you immediately sit down on your sofa, hitting the answer button and taking a readying breath.

“Hey Doc.” Your voice is unintentionally airy, but he doesn’t seem to notice - or he pretends not to - as he replies.

“Hey. I got back from work late last night, but I didn’t wanna call in case you were asleep. I was just wondering what you had planned for tonight?” The grogginess in his voice is evident, and it raises a question before you can even think about answering his.

“Spencer, how long ago did you wake up?” The simple question makes him go quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“I woke up just before I called you.” He sounds nervous to admit it, like he’s embarrassed to be caught thinking of you so soon into his day.

“Must have been thinking about me in your sleep then. And to answer your question, I’m free tonight.” You can’t hide the tinge of satisfaction knowing he thought about you maybe as often as you thought about him.

The small breath he sucks in doesn’t pass by you. You may not be a behavioural analyst but you are a damn good journalist, and you know what that little breath means. It says “you caught me”. Was he really thinking of you in his slumber? You note it down in the back of your head to try and slip out of him later.

“Would you like to go for dinner to that restaurant tonight?” He seems to have composed himself as he asks his question, and you try not to sound too enthusiastic as you eagerly say yes. “Okay, great- that’s great! I’ll pick you up at six… I don’t drive.” The defeat in his voice makes you laugh.

“How about I pick you up?” You suggest, calming his nerves. “You can tell me where to go.” Truthfully, you had already planned to drive him. Penelope told you once how he doesn’t drive, and you called her two days ago to reconfirm. This information, however, is not something you feel the need to tell him, because it seems a little obsessive - but you were just thinking logically of course - and you don’t want to weird him out quite so early.

He seems to be okay with the idea, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t take it as a blow to his ego like most men would. The call ends after a few short pleasantries - that are actually pleasant - and you immediately get to work.

You throw open the doors of your wardrobe and go straight to the dresses, very slowly narrowing it down to two options. A flowy red dress that you almost go with, and a simple black silk dress that ends just below your knees.

This one is for special occasions, and you deemed this a pretty special occasion. As you rummage through your box of shoes and stack of earrings trying desperately to find earrings and heels in the same colour, you come across a pair of purple strapped heels that you know you have drop earrings in a similar shade to. You just can’t find them.

Suddenly you notice that it’s 12:30 and your brain short circuits. Your entire room is thrown upside down and inside out until you find the earrings you’re looking for, and then neatly arranged back to its original state, all within thirty minutes. Now you have your little purple dewdrops and your outfit is complete, but you have four and a half hours until you need to leave and you know you’ll need it, albeit mostly to panic.

Four hours passes and you’ve showered, shaved, styled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your nail polish is just dry and you have your dress on, so you buckle your heels and stand. Twenty five minutes before you can leave. That’s not bad. You just have to wait twenty five minutes… But what if traffic is bad? You should probably leave fifteen minutes early for that, right? And if you think about it, the time between leaving your house and getting to the car wasn’t considered in the time it would take you to get there, and if you drag it out that’s a good five minutes. So really you only need to leave in five minutes. But what’s the point of waiting five minutes really? You should just leave now. Good idea.

As you park at his apartment building you realise you may have been a little over eager. The drive was ten minutes shorter than expected, so you’re around thirty minutes early. Which is embarrassing, so to speak. But you decide to head up early, a gut feeling telling you that it’ll be beneficial.

As you knock, he immediately opens the door and then a sheepish look comes over his face. “I saw you get out of your car.” He nervously rubs his hand on the back of his neck and it makes you smile. Then you take in his attire. He looks similar to when you met him in the bar, although he’s wearing white converse to match a white shirt underneath his brown suit. He’s also sporting a watch, and - most importantly - glasses. Damn those fucking glasses.

You realise you haven’t responded and are now intensely looking at his eyes, and he looks a little uncomfortable.

“Shit- sorry. I was just looking at you- I mean you look good- Great! You look great. You look… pretty. I like your glasses, do you wear them often?” Although you can feel yourself rambling into oblivion, you somehow can’t stop the flood of words that come out of your mouth.

His mouth opens for a moment as though he might speak, and then it shuts again. He stands aside to let you come in. “I never let you in.” He comments, sounding apologetic.

You shake your head in reassurance. “That’s alright, I wasn’t sure if you would even be ready since I’m so early. I never meant to be, I just kind of over thought it and now I’m here.” You wring your fingers together. Spencer noticed that you do it as a nervous habit when you met in the bar.

“I was ready an hour ago, I’ve just been reading while I waited for you. You can sit.” He motions to his sofa, and you sit next to the armrest so that you can turn and lean your back against it to face him sitting a little away from you. “You look beautiful. You remind me of a painting called ‘Madame X’, you probably know it. You could almost be a modernised retelling. Did you know that the painting caused an extreme public discourse as people thought the artist, John Singer Sargent, made the woman look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed.” He says all this with a little grin, and you can’t help but grin along with him.

The decision to tease him comes before you can truly think about it. “You think I look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed, Doc?” As the words come out of your mouth, he pales slightly.

“No, of course not! You remind me more of the principle. The woman was so beautiful she was renowned for her looks. Painters had all but begged her to do a portrait before, but she declined until she found Sargent. But even then, the people of Paris thought the painting didn’t do her beauty justice. Despite this, the painting became famous and beloved for hundreds of years around the world, and to this day is still considered a work of true historical art. A timeless beauty. That’s how I think you look.” His passion for little things shines through again, and your mouth is left slightly agape from his words.

“That was…” You can’t even think.

“A lot, I know. I tend to ramble a lot. I don’t really notice that I’m bothering people until it’s too late.” He rubs the back of his neck again, and the thought of people being bothered by him sends multiple emotions running down your spine.

You reach over and grab his hand with one of yours, the other going to touch his face. “I was going to say, that was awfully considerate of you. Never assume that you’re bothering me. Talk quite literally as much as you please, I want to know what you want to say… If we weren’t on our first date I’d readily teach you exactly how much I enjoy when you talk, but that can be saved for another time, maybe.” Your voice drops nearer the end, and he picks up on it as he sucks in a breath and nods vigorously.

“Definitely- I mean yes, sure. I will keep that in mind.” He’s still nodding as you smile at him, a proper smile.

“You’re pretty when you get flustered. You get all red, from the tops of your cheeks all the way down your neck.” You silently wonder if it goes further. You wish you could check. The hand on his face trails down his neck as you speak, emphasising what you mean.

He gets redder. How can he get redder? “Pretty. You’ve used that word on me twice now.” The comment seems to be more of an observation than a question, but you answer it as though it is one.

“I think you’re pretty. Handsome is a word I dislike. It reminds me of Ken, like Barbie and Ken. You’re not a doll, you’re a man, who just so happens to be pretty. I could call you beautiful instead, I’d say that adjective very accurately describes you too. Gorgeous, if that’s something you prefer.” You relent as the redness gets impossibly worse, and it makes you feel a little guilty. “Sorry, Doc, I just like seeing you flustered. I’ll call you handsome or something more masculine if you’re more comfortable with that.” You give him a little smile and pull your hand from his face.

He wouldn’t say it out loud but he wishes you would keep it there. He grasps your other hand tightly in his, and he shakes his head. “I don’t mind. You can call me whatever you feel like… You’re wearing purple. Purple is my favourite colour.” He looks away for a moment, and it warms your heart.

“Purple suits you, as a favourite colour I mean. Mine is green.” Your voice holds a gentleness in it that comes with caring for someone. It’s baffling. You’ve known him days. A week at most. You shouldn’t feel so… warm around him.

“Green makes sense. I think purple looks best on you though, which is definitely coming from a place of bias.” This makes you laugh, small and breathy, but he smiles at the sound.

You don’t realise how much time has passed until you hear a buzzing noise, and you both realise it’s a phone ringing. It’s coming from the other room so you assume it’s Spencer’s and he quickly gets up to answer. You can’t hear much from the wall between you, but when he comes back through looking thoroughly disappointed, you can tell it’s a work call. “Serial killers don’t stop for first dates sadly.” You remark, and he looks a little surprised.

“How did you know?” He questions, coming closer to you and you stand up to face him.

“I may not be a behavioural analyst, but I can tell what that face means. It means ‘I’m so sorry but I have to go stop murders’.” You smile to try and reassure him, but you can see the cogs whirring in his brain.

He seems to be thinking too many thoughts to process, but suddenly he dips down and kisses you. It’s short, but it’s soft, and you have a look of surprise on your face as he pulls away. “I wish we had gotten to go on our date, but I really wish that this doesn’t stop us from going on another one.” He looks at you in anticipation, and you melt.

“I wouldn’t pass it up for the world, Doc. Why don’t you go get ready and I’ll drive you there. We can plan the next one in the car.” You kiss his cheek and go to sit back down, and he shuffles away to his bedroom with a stupid smile tugging at his lips.

A/N: So… thoughts on part 3 with newly established relationship reid x reader ? Equally, thoughts on me adding smut somewhere along the line?

[thoughtidtry]

Dress pt.1 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. First time publishing my fanfics so I’d love to hear what you think! Almost 2K..... I'll do a pt.2 cause I still have more thoughts on Lando with this song.

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"Our secret moments in a crowded room. They got no idea about me and you"

Lando couldn't stop smiling at his phone in the paddock, not when you were the one texting him. All the drivers knew about his best friend, who they never got to meet.

"She's a busy person"

He would declare anytime they teased him about meeting you or asked if you were coming to a race. It wasn't that he didn't want you to come or that he didn't want you to meet the other drivers, more he didn't want to share your time. He wasn't lying to them per se you were busy and had moved to America for university as soon as you both had graduated secondary school. It didn't matter he had never actually invited you to a race.

"I'm spilling wine in the bathtub. You kiss my face and we're both drunk"

He could remember the night or well day you left like it was yesterday. The night before your flight, he had stayed over to spend as much time with you as possible. The giggles you made sneaking back into your room after your parents had gone to bed were almost as intoxicating as the wine you had brought back. You both stayed up drinking and reminiscing over the years you had spent together.

Somehow you had both ended up in the bathroom attached to your room. Too drunk to sit let alone stand, you had made yourself comfortable in the bathtub while he was seated beside you leaning up against it. He doesn't remember what was said or how it happened, but he will never forget how soft your lips felt against his or how you sighed after the kiss with a dopey grin as if a weight had been lifted off your chest.

The next morning he woke up in your bed but you were nowhere to be seen. A note on the bedside table along with some pain meds was all that was left.

Tried to wake you to say bye before my flight, but you wouldn't wake up. I don't know how much we drank but I've got a killer headache and can't remember anything so thanks for that. Text me when you wake! Love, Y/N

You had always kept in contact but he never would tell you what happened that night. He didn't want to lose you even if that kiss would haunt him every time he closed his eyes. You managed the time difference well, never judging the other for being up or asleep at random times throughout the day.

Late-night calls when you wanted to tell him something funny between classes changed to funny things your friends had done once you graduated from university. Even the early morning drunken messages he'd get around the time he woke up were moments he cherished. He missed having you next to him. Wished you would come home, but you have your life now in America and found a good job after university.

"All of this silence and patience. Pinning and desperately waiting"

Little did Lando know, the other drivers had stolen his phone and gotten your number long ago just waiting for the right moment to use it. Daniel was the first to reach out and introduce himself explaining Lando had wanted to let you know his phone had died.

You had shrugged it off, with how much Lando talked about the other driver it didn't seem that surprising to you that Lando had given your number to him. It was no surprise to Daniel how friendly and kind you were, but how smart you were was a shock. He never would have imagined their little Lando was friends with a lawyer.

Carlos and Oscar followed soon after hearing more about you from Daniel. They both said they wanted to get some stories of Lando as a kid to make fun of him so they begged Daniel for your number and to not tell Lando. You had a laugh retelling stories to them both that you knew Lando would be embarrassed about.

Max and Charles on the other hand had respected Lando's privacy when it came to you until they were added to a group chat with you made by Oscar without Lando's knowledge.

You didn't speak to the other drivers much in the group chat so you had forgotten it existed most of the time. They would send you pictures of Lando doing goofy things every once in a while, but that was about it. Never once did you think to mention it to Lando, it was a little secret look into his world and the photos gave you a way to know he was having fun. They reminded you of all the good times you both had shared together.

"Flashback when you met me. Your buzzcut and my hair bleached. Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me."

Secondary school hadn't started out easily for you, having moved away from all of your primary school friends. As a farewell, you all decided to color each other's hair. You had ended up a platinum blonde which made you stand out even more on the first day of school. Making new friends was hard at first. Most of the time you felt alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

It was probably the worst time of your life looking back. At least until a boy with a cheeky grin and sassy comebacks made it his mission to befriend you. At first, you didn't know what to make of the boy. Turned out his friend group had done something similar to yours but had buzzed all their hair off instead of dyeing it. He saw the girl with good grades who sat alone every day not as a freak like everyone else but as someone worth taking a chance on. You had no right to fall as fast as you did, but you couldn't help it. He was funny, kind, and well perfect.

"Flashback to my mistakes. My rebounds, my earthquakes. Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me."

As secondary school went on, Lando changed, not as a person but physically. No longer was he the straggly, small, buzzcut kid. He got taller, grew his hair out, and even became charming in a way you would never have imagined. Looking back he could remember getting his first girlfriend and how excited he was only to have his heartbroken.

He dated around more from then on, never getting attached to another girl. By developing a confident and flirtatious appearance he could avoid being hurt again. It worked on everyone as he gained popularity, everyone except you. You saw him for who he really was, always there to catch him when the mask slipped off and he shattered on the ground. Something he would always appreciate you for.

"All of this silence and patience. Pinning and anticipation"

When the drivers had first approached you with their plan you were skeptical.

Would he even want to see me after all this time?

You thought. You two had always talked about meeting again but your schedules never aligned. He always had a race or you had a case that you could miss. They talked about how Lando had seemed down the last couple of weeks while you had been busy with a case, how they thought he missed you, and that they had a race in America soon. Blow care to the wind you agreed. How could you miss the chance to see him again.

Clutching the hem of your shirt as you walked into the paddock for the first time, Daniel was waiting past security to show you around. Oscar had been able to pull some strings and get you a Race Day VIP pass without Lando knowing. You texted in the group chat and Daniel had been sent to come get you so Lando wouldn't notice. He couldn't stop talking about how excited he was to see the look on Lando's face as you two walked.

"Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend."

Soon enough Lando's laughter fills the air as Carlos holds his shoulder while bending over in laughter as well. You stood still for a moment watching to carve this memory of him into your mind before moving closer.

You smiled a bit to yourself, he was always the life of the party, always finding a way to make everyone around him laugh, and as always oblivious to his surroundings. He was still the same Lando you had fallen for all those years ago.

"Hey, Lan."

You said once you were a few feet away. Lando froze for a moment before turning around to look at you in shock. He couldn't believe you were here. Really here standing in the paddock only a few feet away next to Daniel of all people. He decided he didn't care how it happened only that it did.

Your hands started to shake as he stared at you. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, do something, but you were stuck. Stuck looking at him with hope in your eyes that he would say something, do something. Anything.

Carlos chucked at Lando's state before patting him on the back.

"Well, are you just gonna stand there? You know it took a lot of planning to get her here."

Lando snapped out of his trance, looking in between Carlos and you before breaking out in a sprint straight for you with the biggest smile on his face. He lifted you up by the waist spinning around with you in his arms.

It felt so good to have you in his arms again after all this time. At that moment, he realized it didn't matter how long it had been you were his home and he wasn't gonna let you go again.

[kooqitas]

always useful... ★ with: knj

#pairing: namjoon X f.reader #synopsis: you are always useful to your boyfriend, even when you are sleeping #tags: pwp(!), vaginal sex, free use, somnophilia, cnc, spit, humiliation, overstimulation, creampie, squirting, dacryphilia, a little of aftercare (<3) #wc: ~600 #notes: namjoon please wake me up like this.

★ m.list | inbox

you woke up in the middle of the night and felt the impact of his large body on top of you. it took you half a second to realize it was namjoon, your boyfriend.

“even when sleeping you receive my cock… that pussy is already open, god!” he said as soon as he noticed you woke up. “you are my cumdump.”

“n-namjoon” you moaned, feeling his balls hitting you.

you looked down and your nipples were completely exposed and red, you wondered how long your boyfriend had been playing with you, and that only made you more horny.

“such a dirty slut, you look like a bitch in heat ready to be fucked... well, actually, you are that"

namjoon turns you against the bed, placing your face against the pillow and suffocating you without any care while he punishes your ass with heavy spanks.

you loved all of this, you loved when he treated you like an object, when he made you whimper while he fucked you tirelessly.

“don’t cum now, don’t be pathetic!”

namjoon says pulling your neck, at this point you were just drooling on the pillow while moaning and screaming inchoherently, feeling like he could split you in half.

he just keept pounding deeper and deeper into your tight hole.

your boyfriend pulled your hair while he fucked you hard, stretching your needy hole. your body was shaking now. 

"i will play with all your holes until they are no longer useful."

"i'm... i'm always useful..."

"are you? yeah, maybe you are, anyone take my cock in their sleep like you do"

the slap he gave your ass was what made you cum.

namjoon laughed, turning your back against the mattress again and now rubbing circles on your clit as your entire body shook on his cock.

you throw your head back, drool slipping past your mouth.

you're so overstimulated, that you started to cry.

"i love when you cry at my cock, you know what is better than tears on your face, hm?"

namjoon spat on your face. once, twice. you lost count after the fourth time.

he twisted one of your nipples and you screamed incoherent things again, making him spit in your mouth in an attempt to make you close it.

and then he came, the hot liquid hitting your uterus and bringing you one of the best sensations in the whole world, his balls all emptying inside your open pussy.

yet he didn't stop, he continued fucking you as the bed turned into a mess of cum, his own juice dripping onto his cock as he continued to pound your pussy hard.

"you know what i want, and if you don't give it to me, i'm going to make you cum again and again."

your body was shaking and you felt like everything was spinning, his hand didn't stop rubbing your clit and when he hit your breasts you finally squirted.

strong, wetting the entire bed.

so hard that you pushed his dick out, your legs shaking as he tried to hold you by your thighs so you wouldn't close them.

the bed was completely wet, and namjoon bent down to suck you.

"no, too much, please!" you pushed his head.

he laughed, raising his eyebrow and giving you a small kiss on the forehead.

"you were great love, i love you! you know you're my only and favorite!"

he waited for your body to calm down completely, and carried you in his arms to the guest room, it was common for you to use each other there, it always happened when you ended up having 'too much fun' in the room.

namjoon cleaned you up while praising you and telling you how much he loved you, until he saw that you were falling asleep again, and then he lay down.

"good night, princess, sleep well!" he said hugging you from behind.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: when i started this chapter i had intended for it to go in a completely different direction but as i began writing it, i let the words flow and wrote it this way instead. i really hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback and remember to send in things you'd like to see in this series. xoxo

This story contains: mentions of handjobs and blowjobs, slight angst, pillow talk, cunilingus, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - friends to lovers trope - softrry }

word count- 3,459

While making arrangements to introduce your friends to Harry, he seizes the chance to ask about your abrupt departure after your intimate encounter earlier that day. This conversation unexpectedly leads to Harry performing oral sex on you for the first time.

As you make your way around the street corner, you are greeted by your friends, Mave and Charlotte, who are waving you over to the table they had set aside for your brunch. The cafe features a beautiful outdoor space, perfect for the current time of year. Upon joining them, they quickly pick up on your more upbeat attitude. While you typically don't appear gloomy, you have been feeling rather indifferent for the past year. However today, they observe a slight improvement in your mood.

"Hi, Hi." you lean in to kiss each of their cheeks and sit down at the round table.

"We've ordered you a mimosa. Wasn't sure what you wanted to eat so we haven't ordered our food yet though." Charlotte explans.

"Oh, well thank you." you take a sip of your mimosa and moan at how delicious the drink is.

"What's making you so cheerful today? Is it because of Harry?" Mave questions with cheeky smile, aware of your growing connection with your housemate and the recent revelation of your mutual feelings towards one another. Your friends are genuinely happy for you, knowing how long you've been single and how it affected you.

Brushing them off, you answer, "What? A girl can't look happy on a Sunday morning without there being a reason?" But they know you better then that. The aurora you're giving off is one of a girl who's in love. Though they wouldn't tell you that this soon in your relationship with Harry.

"No it's just," Mave starts, "look, we want the details. Did you guys have sex this morning? Because you look like your glowing and it's not from your skincare routine." Her and Charlotte stare you down, waiting for an answer and you know you must give them one. Otherwise they'll never let this conversation rest.

"Alright, alright. We did do some sexual stuff this morning. But not sex. I just kind of gave him a handjob which then turned into a blowjob."

Your two friends are smiling ear to ear at your confession. "And.... what else? Don't tell us he left you high and dry after you literally had his dick in your mouth." Charlotte utters in a hushed yet audible tone, ensuring that you can hear her amidst the bustling traffic and crowd, while hopefully keeping your conversation private from others.

You express with annoyance in your tone, "It wasn't as you think. I woke up to find him cuddling me and noticed he was aroused. Therefore, I chose to assist him. Once he woke up and realized he was hard, he eventually agreed to my help. I began by giving him a handjob under his briefs, but then decided to go further with a blowjob. And he didn't reciprocate because I left quickly after he came. So, I'm unsure whether he would've wanted to do something for me in return."

Mave reaches across the table and playfully swats your arm. "You fuckin' idiot. You should have stayed to see if he would've pleasured you as well. You could've gotten an amazing orgasm out of him."

"Hey," you spit back, "I did have an amazing orgasm this morning. Just... with my vibrator in the shower before I came here." Though you're sure Harry would beat every single one of your toys if you gave him the chance to prove it.

After chatting for a few more minutes you realized just how hungry you were and decided to order your food and another round of mimosas. You catch up on each others lives and make plans for them to come by the house to hang out one night. They have yet to meet Harry and you thought what better way to introduce them than to invite them over for some drinks and maybe a card game. You'll just have to ask him if that would be okay.

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

Upon returning home later that evening, you notice Harry seated on the sofa, engrossed in a pile of papers and his laptop resting on his lap. Presumably grading tests, you assume. After placing your bag in the entryway, you make your way over to the couch. Surprisingly, the atmosphere doesn't feel as awkward as you had anticipated, considering the events that unfolded earlier in the day.

"How was your brunch?" Harry questions, shifting to set all of his work onto the coffee table.

"Great. Really fun." you answer before continuing, "So I have a question."

"Hm, so do I actually but go on." Harry replies, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn't know what your question is but he knows his question is in reference to why you ran off so quickly this morning after you gave him that blowjob. It's been eating at his mind all day and he'd really like some closure so he can relax.

"Okay, so I was thinking we could have a little get-together with my friends, Mave and Charlotte. They're eager to meet you, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to invite them over this upcoming weekend. We can enjoy some drinks and perhaps even play that card game I purchased some time ago but haven't had the chance to play yet."

Harry nods in agreement. "Yeah, sounds great. How about this Friday night? I can stop by the shops on my way home from work and grab some alcohol. Just let me know what kind they prefer." He is genuinely excited to finally meet your friends. Since becoming your housemate, you've kept your personal life mostly private from him. As a result, he hasn't had the chance to meet any of your family members and has only heard stories about your friends.

"Fantastic," you declare, jumping up from the couch excitedly. "I'll call them right away and let them know. They'll be so happy." Just as Harry was about to remind you that he had a question as well, you've already disappeared from his line of sight. Your sudden departures today seem to be a trend. He reckons he'll have to wait a bit longer to find out the reasoning behind your quick exit this morning.

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

At approximately ten o'clock at night, you and Harry are lying in your bed, watching reruns of Friends while trying to stay awake. The room is dark besides the glare of the tv and his cat Pixie is nestled in the middle of the bed, sleeping soundly. Although she hasn't always been allowed in your room, ever since Harry started visiting so frequently, you have embraced her presence as well.

Right as your eyes began to shut, you remember how Harry had a question for you earlier but never got to ask it. You didn't mean to run off like you did. You just got excited to call your friends and let them know they're welcomed to come by the house this Friday for the small gathering. Which in turn made you totally forget he had a question in the first place.

"Harry," you say aloud. The call of his name startles him. He'd just dozed off to sleep and your voice pulled him away from the unconsciousness he was about to enter.

"Mhm, what?" he grumbles, eyes half open as he tries to stay awake in order to hear you speak.

"What's your question? You said earlier you had a question but you never got to ask me it."

Harry found himself more awake as he thought about how to bring up his question. To be honest, he was feeling a bit nervous to ask. Even though this question had been on his mind all day, he hesitated to ask, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or create any distance between you. "Um, was just gonna ask why you left so suddenly this mornin'. You know, after you gave me that blowjob? It seemed like you were ashamed of your actions or somethin'. I was plannin' to return the favor, but you left before I had the opportunity to ask."

With heart shaped eyes, you coo softly, "You were?"

"Well yeah. It's only right that I returned the favor you did for me. I'm not a douche bag like some men can be."

"Awe, that's so sweet of you. But um, I don't know. Guess I remembered how I'd just woke up and maybe didn't smell the best down there or that I may have tasted bad from the hours of sleep I was in prior. Just didn't want to disgust you in any way."

With a gentle tone, Harry expressed, "Y/n, your scent or taste wouldn't have been an issue for me. Even if it was there, I wouldn't have mind. Because it's you, and I genuinely care about you. I would have found pleasure in it regardless. If anyone has ever made you feel insecure about the natural smell of your vagina, they are truly right dicks"

Breathing deeply, you sadly admit, "Yeah, I've had some men attempt to go down on me first thing in the morning but complained about the way I smelt or tasted and so, I just didn't want you to do the same as them."

Sliding impossibly close to you, Harry responds back, "Well I'm not those other men. I respect women more than that and I may just have a thing for oral sex. Givin' and receivin'. Plus, it feels even better when you really know and trust the person."

You giggle shyly and except his closeness, the two of you laying on your sides facing each other. "Dick or pussy though?"

"What?" Harry asks with a sleepy smile, unsure of what you're questioning.

"You said you had a thing for oral sex. So do you prefer sucking dick or eating pussy?"

"Mhm, depends on who the person is and my connection to them. Both are great but it also depends on what mood I'm in to give you a solid answer." It's no secret Harry likes men as well. When you first moved in with him he had a short fling with a guy and you assumed he was gay for like the first month. But then when you heard a girl moaning through his bedroom walls, you realized that wasn't the case. The next day you questioned him and he confidently came out as bisexual to you.

Deciding to continue these questions just to see where it could lead, you keep going, "And, what mood are you in right now?"

Harry suddenly became aware of the dense atmosphere, yet he responded truthfully. "Considerin' that I'm currently in your bed, nearly cuddling you, and you happen to possess a vagina, I would say 'pussy.' However, if I were to discover that you possessed a penis, the answer would be 'cock.'"

He moves one of his hands up to cradle the side of your face. It's so incredibly close to his that he can just about taste the mint of your toothpaste. "Good thing I have one of those two options then and I'm not some alien with no genitals at all."

What Harry wants to say is that he'd love you just the same, even if you were a genitalless alien, but he can't. Not yet anyways. So he responds, "Wouldn't change how I feel about you." With the close proximity, you get the sudden urge to surge forward and clash your lips with his. As if he felt this coming, Harry didn't react surprised at all and accepts the kiss. You both realized this is the first time you've kissed each other. You've shared your feelings, your beds, and you've gave him a blowjob. Yet this makes your first time kissing.

Harry intensifies the kiss by gently prodding his tongue against your lips, and you grant him permission to enter. The kiss is wet, rushed, and somewhat messy, yet incredibly enjoyable. After a minute of exchanging saliva, you pull back to take a deep breath and confidently state, "Prove it then. Prove you're in the mood for some pussy."

With surprise written on his face, Harry leans back a tiny bit to make sure he's reading you correctly. "You sure? I don't have to if......" He'd be more than happy to eat you out right here, right now, but he doesn't want you to ask because you feel obligated to agree or because you're in the heat of the moment.

Responding eagerly, you assert, "Yes, I'm sure. But please be quick before I change my mind." The mention of urgency and the potential for a change of mind prompts Harry to swiftly toss the covers back and carefully positions himself between your legs. He gently lifts Pixie from the bed and places her on the floor where she discovers her cat bed near the window sill and resumes her peaceful sleep.

At this very moment, Harry finds himself surprisingly nervous as he positions himself between your legs. Although he has longed to perform oral sex on you, both this morning and in his countless fantasies, the actual prospect of doing so fills him with apprehension that he may not satisfy you adequately. Additionally, he frets over the possibility of being unable to bring you to orgasm.

Curiosity arose within you as to why Harry was taking such a long time, prompting you to prop yourself up on your elbows. From this viewpoint, you observed him fixating on your bottom half, which was concealed by some skimpy shorts you typically sleep in. However, as soon as he notices your gaze upon him, he swiftly reaches up and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. To his astonishment, you're not wearing any panties which causing Harry to let out a moan upon catching sight of your naked pussy.

Despite the room being enveloped in a soft glow from the television, it remained dimly lit and quiet. Harry couldn't obtain a clear image of your exposed cunt but he could perceive enough to develop a strong liking to it already. However, this attraction isn't solely based on the physical appearance of your vagina, but rather because it's a part of you.

Harry looks up once more to ensure your approval for his actions. With a nod of reassurance from you, he eagerly begins. His mouth envelops your entire pussy, as his tongue moves from your wet entrance to your sensitive clit. The flavor of you on his tongue almost brings him to climax instantly, hands free. This is undoubtedly the best cunt he's ever had. Your skin is incredibly soft and inviting, with only a few short hairs littered around your bikini area from the shave you did two days ago.

As your elbows grow weaker, you find yourself sinking into the comfortable bed below. Harry's tongue skillfully laps up your arousal before focusing on your clit and experimenting with various flicking patterns. Each time his tongue glides over the sensitive nerves, your entire body responds with a powerful jolt of electricity. It's no secret that your clit is extremely sensitive when receiving attention from the right person.

"Oh fuck, Harry. Feels so good." you moan aloud, reaching down to grab onto his curly locks.

You fear he'll tell you not to touch him, but as he briefly moves his mouth away, he commands, "Tug my hair, baby. It feels amazing." Could it be that he just referred to you as 'baby' for the first time? You believe so, and it heightens your arousal even further.

Listening to Harry's wishes, you pull his hair tightly in your fists, causing his face to be nestled against your pussy impossibly closer than before. You begin to move your hips, creating a subtle rocking motion. Although he may feel a slight burning sensation on his scalp due to the intensity of your grip, as he mentioned, he loves the sensation it gives.

A minute more goes by of Harry munching down on your wet pussy when you feel your orgasm nearly bubble over. "I... I'm..." you try to warn but can't even get the words out from how much pleasure you're in. Harry doesn't say a word back, just goes in even harder, more determined to bring you over the edge.

You finally achieve orgasm when he seals his lips around your clit, applying firm and forceful sucks. Your clitoris pulsates within his mouth, causing you to release an animalistic scream as your orgasm sweeps through your body. Your entire body trembles, compelling Harry to firmly hold your hips to keep you in place. He continues sucking on your clit until your orgasm begins to fade and overstimulation sets in.

The hands that once laced in his hair start trying to push his head away. "Har.... Oh God!" you gasp when he gives your tiny nerve a few more kitten licks to make sure he's pulled every ounce of pleasure from you that he can. You lie there trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm as Harry sits up on his knees, breathing heavy with a glossy mouth.

Eager to know, though the answer should be evident with how you look right now, Harry asks, "So.... was I any good? Did that prove what mood I was in to you?"

You glance forward to see a devilish smile plastered on Harry's face and just know he's proud of himself. Which, he should. You don't think you've ever came so hard in your entire life. "Yes," you heave, "Oh God, yes. I'm...., that was, God. That was the best orgasm I've ever had."

"Yeah? You just tellin' me that to boost my ego or are you tellin' the truth?"

"Harry, I quit literally can't feel my bones right now. They're like jello. No man nor any one of my strongest vibrators have made me come that hard. No wonder the ladies liked you."

With the awareness that it's already very late and he has work the next morning, Harry decides to rise from the bed and make his way to the bathroom in the hallway to fetch a damp cloth. Your exhaustion prevents you from mustering the energy to question his actions. When he returns, you immediately recognize what he has and instinctively close your legs, still experiencing discomfort.

Harry takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and lightly taps your thighs, silently requesting you to open up. Reluctantly, you comply. As you feel the damp cloth glide over your swollen pussy, you try to pull away, but he firmly holds you in place with one hand on your hip bone. "Shh, it's alright," he reassures you in a gentle tone. "I'm just gonna clean you up, and then we can sleep, okay?"

As you lie on the bed, you notice Harry's erection prominently displayed through his black briefs and a pang of guilt washes over you for not pleasuring him. "But.......what about you? You're still hard. I could give you another blowjob or handjob. Whatever you want." Despite the tempting offer, Harry is too exhausted to engage in any additional activities tonight. Prior to this moment, he was on the brink of unconsciousness. Consequently, his drowsy state has returned as the explicit actions have ceased.

"It'll eventually go away, Y/n. I've got work in the mornin' and it's past midnight as is. Plus m'too tired to do anythin' more tonight. But, if I wasn't so tired and didn't have work so early, then you bet your ass I'd take you up on that offer."

Harry finishes cleaning between your legs and helps you slip your shorts back on. He then turns the TV off and crawls back into your bed beside you. Though your limbs are still weak, you manage to slide over until your head rests on his bare chest and your top leg is thrown over his hairy thigh closest to you.

As the moonlight glows through your bedroom window, sleep takes over both of you as the world around becomes quiet. The only sounds that can be heard are Pixie's soft purring from her location on the floor, the steadiness of Harry's heartbeat, and your exhails of breath.

In your dreaming state, you're still excited for the arrival of this upcoming Friday where you eagerly await the moment when your friends will finally have the chance to meet Harry. With high hopes for a successful gathering, you envision a joyous time ahead. Unbeknownst to Harry, the card game planned for the small get-together holds an R rating, implying that it will serve as an opportunity for everyone to bond and deepen their connections without the need for uncomfortable conversations in the future. Plus, mixed with the alcohol, you can't wait to find out some of Harry's dirty secrets.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part 5: Wherever You Take Me

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The cookout gets hot and dinner with Sy is a revelation. Plus, you get to see his place. 😏

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Fluff, Angst, Reader has PCOS, talk of infertility, talk of war, daydreaming about shower sex, anal play, natural hairstyles, clothes kink if you squint, voice/dirty talk kink, Graphic depiciton of sex. Woman on top, size kink, slight choking, squirting, nipple play, begging, raw p in v, copious amounts of cum. I did not mean to disparage yoga in any way.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the fifth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

———-

To say Sy had you shook was an understatement. You woke up expecting to find him there, but then you remembered saying a groggy ‘goodbye’ to him almost as soon as you hit the bed after the workout he gave you in the shower. 

You lay in bed as your anxiety spiked and wondered if he took that as a dismissal. You hoped that he didn't think that you didn’t want him around. But you didn’t want him to think that you were going to just fall into his arms.

You just didn’t know what to do with these old/new crazy feelings for Sy. How well did you really know him? You knew the kid from 20 years ago, but he broke your heart. How careful would grown ass man Sy be with your love? And would he still want you if he knew the entire truth?

You decided to relax and stretch and clear your mind of all the clutter. Yes, yoga was the perfect antidote to Jacob Syverson.

—---

Yoga failed you miserably.

You found yourself checking for Sy as soon as you arrived at the cookout. You socialized as you lowkey searched for him at the function, and when you realized he wasn’t there yet, you inhaled a whiff of the shirt you were wearing for the dopamine hits. It was his dress shirt from the night before that you tore off of him and that you were wearing over your tube top and jean shorts. You couldn’t help it if he left it there and it was the perfect complement for your outfit.

It was well past noon and he hadn’t arrived. You chewed your lip and let anxiety in again. You avoided questions from Carla and Tiffani about what happened, and your mind drifted to how he’d handled you last night. 

Sy’s soapy hands were all over you, pulling on your wet nipples, grabbing your wet hair as his mouth attacked your neck, and sliding over your body under the hot stream of water. He was a quick study, and at the point of your fifth orgasm, it felt as if he knew your body better than you. 

And you let him take possession. 

His slippery fingers toyed with and penetrated your ass as he fucked you senseless against the wet tile, ramming his thick cock inside you again and again as you begged for more. You came again, harder than you ever had, and afterward your energy drained out of you just like his cum streaming down your legs. He had to dry you off and carry you to bed, all the while leaving sweet kisses all over you.

You’d never felt so…loved...and in trouble.

As soon as your towel covered head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. You didn’t see Sy’s look of adoration, didn’t feel the kiss on the forehead that he gave you as he whispered “Sweet dreams,” and his chest puffed out with pride at having put you to sleep, a cocky smirk on his face as he let himself out and strode toward the Bronco. You were snoring softly.

You were busy reliving the experience of the night before, relishing the slight soreness of your body as Carla and Tiffani chattered around you. You weren’t really present until fingers started snapping in front of your face.

“Come back to earth…”

“Oh shit,” you giggled, “sorry, Carla. What were you saying?”

Both of your besties laughed at you.

“Umm hmm. Yeah. Well you answered the question without answering it. That dreamy look on your face says it all.”

You just smiled, rolled your eyes and sipped your cider.

“I’m just chilling. Sy and I had a good talk, and a good time last night. We buried the hatchet.”

Carla and Tiffani exchanged looks.

“I bet you did. I bet you buried it hard. And deep.”

You scoffed at them both, but Carla was unswayed. 

“Tell us, Buttercup. Exactly what size hatchet does Jacob Syverson carry?”

You shook your head and took another drink, rolling at your friends’ ridiculousness.

”Well, if you don’t want to give the details about Sy’s dick, you’ve got to tell us the story of that hair.” 

Carla nodded toward your thick cornrows.

“Did Sy mess it up so badly that you had to detangle in the shower, or did you get tangled up with Sy in the shower?”

Your cheeks heated as you took another swig and scanned the park to avoid answering your intuitive friends. And when you saw the Bronco, you almost choked.

You put your beverage down and straightened up, patting your head. Sy had arrived.

“Does it look alright?”

“It looks dope,” Tiffani looked around to see Betty Bronco pulling into a parking spot.

“Oh shit, she is sprung. This is gonna be good.”

Their teasing faded into the background as you watched Sy unfold out of Betty Bronco and were reminded of the night before as he ran his hand over his beard. That beard. How wet that beard got last night. Both in and out of the shower… 

You took in the vision of this man who indeed had you sprung after one night. You sighed when you saw him come toward you. Although he was dressed simply, a dark grey t-shirt and jeans, he looked like the best thing you’d seen in ages.

Damn, he was hot. Or was it that you’d just spent too much time in the sun? He strode toward you and the way his body moved was dangerous. You felt that you would hit your knees with the slighted signal from him. 

Sy was indeed hot. And you may have also had sunstroke. Both things could be true. What else would explain the way your heart was beating and the weird feeling in your stomach?

Yes. Sunstroke it was. And lust. And nothing else.

Your friends’ laughter pierced your reverie and you got up to meet him before he reached the group.

—------

Sy got home that morning and fell into his bed, daydreaming of having you in it. It was 4 am, and he fully intended on sleeping just a few hours, then waking up and sending you a good morning text.

Soon he was dead to the world.

The next thing he knew, it was 11:30, too late for a morning text. He would just have to greet you in person at the cookout. He got out of bed to get ready, taking extra time with his hair and beard. He hadn’t cared this much about how he looked since high school. He hadn’t cared this much about anything since you. He wanted to be the one that you wanted. If it was a quarter of the way he wanted you, he’d be a lucky man.

Plans rolled around in his head as he rolled toward you in Betty Bronco, but also uncertainty. Was this just a trip down memory lane for you? Just a whim of a weekend, a chance to experience everything you didn’t 20 years ago? 

Whatever this was, he wasn’t going to waste any time. 

When Sy pulled up at the event almost an hour late, lo and behold, there you were. His eyes fell on you, a vision in his white shirt, your lips wrapped around what looked like a beer bottle. Your hair was different. Sexy. But then again, every look was sexy on you it seemed.

“Well, ain’t that a daisy.”

His heart did a thing and he took a beat, trying to be cool. Sy thanked his lucky stars before he got out of the Bronco, his destination not even a question.

—--

You met him under a live oak tree, a few feet from the picnic tables. Carla and Tiffany and a couple of other people called hello to him, but he just nodded and waved at them as he focused on you.

You in his shirt was one thing, but the tube top and shorts you were wearing, he felt as if he hit the jackpot as his eyes feasted on your curves. He licked his lips as if to recall the taste of some of them.

You stood there as Sy’s eyes roamed your body possessively, and although it was 82 degrees, you shivered. Maybe you were getting the flu.

“Hullo there, Buttercup.”

Sy beamed down at you and you screamed at him in your mind as you flushed hot again. ‘Where have you been!? Why did you leave!?’

But instead you just said, “Hello, Sy.”

You grinned back up at him, suddenly okay. More than okay. Sy’s attention was a powerful drug and you’d forgotten that you were an addict. You wanted it all the time. 

“‘D’you sleep well?”

You bit your lip and grinned again as you played with the collar of the shirt you were wearing. Sy could glimpse a hickey that he’d put on your collarbone and he felt the urge to take you behind the tree and give you more. You had some powerful magic.

“Yes. Very.”

He took off his sunglasses then and stepped closer to you. His smile was contagious.

“I’m glad. You were knocked out when I left. Seemed tired.”

Your smile dropped as you chewed your lip.

“Yeah, about that. I didn’t mean to kick you out.”

Sy shifted his stance closer to you.

“You didn’t kick me out, Buttercup. You were exhausted. I said I was going to give you space.”

“You did?”

You stared at him, wide eyed. He chuckled.

“You don’t remember that, do you?”

You sighed in relief and looked at the ground, cheeks heated.

“No.”

Your voice was small and Sy’s heart lurched, He had hope. Maybe you did have feelings for him other than lust if you thought you’d hurt his. He reached for your hand, just your fingers really, and caressed them softly. He smiled at you when you looked up at him again.

“It’s okay, Buttercup. Really. I got some rest. And If I’d stayed, I have a feeling that we would still be in bed right now.”

The deep timbre of his voice and the affirmation of what you already knew had you shook, imagining a morning in bed with Sy. You went silent, staring up at him with those eyes. His cock stirred. Shit, you were so hot when you went lust-mute. He cleared his throat.

“I like your hair.”

Sy nodded at you.

“Thanks. Got a little wet last night, had to do something…”

Sy smiled at the shower memories.

“Looks great. Like your outfit, too.”

He adjusted the collar of the shirt you were weating, eyes sweeping down your form to get a look at you underneath it. He knew that all he had to do was hook his finger in your tube top and your breasts would spill out. He licked his lips as he regarded you, eyes shining with need when he looked back up into your eyes.

Your mouth opened as if for air as you stood stock still, like a deer caught in headlights. You wanted the same things he did. Damn. You were dickmatized.

“I can see what you’re thinking, Buttercup. But everyone is watching us.”

You huffed out a breath, moved closer, grabbing his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. You heard some people murmur and your friends high five and laugh behind you.

Sy felt triumphant. He grabbed your waist and kissed you back. Thoroughly. Then you pulled back, out of breath.

“You’re right. Everyone is watching.”

Sy brought his hand up to the back of your head and looked into your eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

The gruff whisper went straight to your cunt as he pulled you back in for another kiss. 

He finally pulled away and you were still holding on to the stainless steel chain of his dog tags. You looked up at him, ready to ditch the cookout on a word from him.

“Didn’t you get enough last night?”

You were posing the question to yourself, as well as Sy.

Sy inhaled oxygen, because he was drowning in your vibe right now. He grunted.

“Hm. I thought you understood, Buttercup. I will never get enough.”

Another kiss. You whimpered and he just knew that you were wet for him.

“I just want to haul you in the back of Betty right now, but we’re gonna do this thing today. Tonight we’ll go out for dinner, right?”

You nodded, licking your lips as he released your waist and took your hand, leading you back to the table.

—---

You all were sitting around the table playing cards a couple of hours later with your old friend group when someone pointed at Sy’s arms.

“What happened to you, Sy? Did you get attacked by a wild animal?”

Sy looked down at the scratches you left on him with pride, smirked and started to answer, ignoring the look from you.

“Well… Sorta. Kinda. You know I like to live dangerously.”

The wink he threw the questioner was for you, however, and you knew it.

“Sy, you’re too much!”

“Funny thing. Someone said that to me recently.”

You tugged on Sy’s hand.

“Excuse us for a minute, please.”

You gave them your best dignified smile, even though you hot. Sy was chuckling as he followed you back to the live oak tree out of earshot of the group. All they could see was that he was laughing now and everyone could tell that you were giving him the business.

Your friends watched you two and smiled.

Sy put his hands up and nodded, still laughing. You turned away from him, but he grabbed your hand as you tried to walk away. You turned around, annoyed, but then he pointed to his lips, suddenly serious. You gazed at them, smiled and then reached up to kiss him, then pulled away and flipped him off. He laughed again.

"Promise?"  Sy called after you. 

You flipped him off again but grinned as you rejoined the table and Sy went to get more beer. 

“So, when’s the wedding?”

“Shut the fuck up, Carla!”

—---

You let Sy pick you up that evening, and the mood was subdued. He complimented your dress and kissed you on the cheek, careful of your makeup, which you’d carefully applied. Your hair was curly again, the braid-out giving you the look that you wanted. You were quiet as you looked out of the window.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buttercup.”

You looked at him, anxiety written all over your face.

“Today was a lot.”

Sy looked back at you.

“Today was fun.”

You sighed.

“It was. A lot of fun hanging with our friends. It was like we were a couple. Carla asked… Well, I think people think we’re a thing. They expect us to…”

Sy understood. You were spooked.

“I see. Well, if you want to know, Buttercup, in my head we are a thing, but I know you aren’t there yet. I know you’re scared.”

“I’m not…!”

“It’s okay to be scared. We’ve been through a lot. Name it for what it is. I am not into bullshitting. Especially with someone I love.”

That sentence shut your mouth.

“And I don’t give a fuck what people expect us to do. I want to enjoy any time you grace me with. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

Sy picked up your hand from the leather seat and brought the back of it to his mouth. The tender kiss went straight to your soul.

“Just be here now. I mean, we can talk about the past, or the future if you want. But let’s take it one step at a time.”

You smiled at him as he pulled you closer to him and as he kissed up your arm.

“Okay.”

Somehow, you wound up with your head on his shoulder as you drove to the restaurant.

—--

The restaurant was nice, Meyers on the River, and it was a great atmosphere as you and Sy ate on the deck overlooking the lake. You chatted, filling in some of the blank spaces of your lives.

You asked a question that had been nagging you as you ate your salmon.

“Did you- did you go all in during the war? Did you agree with all of that? I mean, almost 20 years Sy. I feel like you had to have a certain kind of mindset to do that.”

Sy shook his head, leaned back, and sighed.

“It was a job. With good benefits. And my family had been enlisted, my uncle Mike. I went and after I found out about Jeremiah, I just dedicated myself to my job over there. I channeled the feelings that I had in order to prepare myself to be a father to being a leader. My men were under my care. It was hell. Hot, sweaty, full of hate. So I became Syverson, the asshole Captain who got the job done. I survived.”

Sy shrugged and toyed with his napkin. 

“There were problems to be solved. And most of the time we solved them.”

You took in what he said and saw there was something deeper there.

“I’m glad that you are back home now.”

He smiled at you.

“Me too. Everything happens for a reason, Buttercup.”

You smiled back and thought about what he said. He was right.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

You sat back in your chair, trying to prepare yourself.

“How do you feel about never having kids? I know about your losses, and you don’t have to talk about it….”

This was part of the reason why you were so hesitant with this relationship. You took a deep breath and decided to name it.

“No. We need to talk about it. It might change your mind about me… us…

You fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“Doubt that.”

“Just wait until I’m done, Sy.”

“Okay.”

“I have PCOS, Sy. It’s a condition that makes it very hard to get or stay pregnant. I’ve been through surgeries and meds, natural methods. The stress of my relationship also didn't help me to have healthy pregnancies. We were going to do in-vitro, but when I found out about the second mistress, I was done. Scott and I divorced and I was content to be by myself. The condition can be progressive. It’s why I take the pill everyday.”

You looked into Sy’s eyes.

“I don’t know if I will ever be able to have a baby. And I’m certainly not getting any younger.”

“I’m sorry, all that has happened to you Buttercup. But none of this changes a thing about how I feel about you or us. I still want you. I still kinda feel like forever with you.”

Sy had your hand across the table now and watched as the smile spread across your face. Something shifted inside you. Sy knew everything and he still wanted you. Maybe this could be a thing. You wanted to say so much, but instead, you just nodded at his plate.

“Finish your steak.”

Sy grinned at you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The conversation different, lighter after that. The chef came out and you spoke, then he comped your meal.

“I will never thank you enough for helping this place to happen Mr. Syverson.”

You looked at Sy quizzically.

“We solved that problem, didn’t we Ben?”

“Yes! Come back and bring your beautiful lady any time!”

“Will do, Ben. Will do.”

Sy stood up and shook his hand, then left what he would have spent on dinner as a tip. You walked out hand in hand as you looked at his profile. 

“I haven’t told you about my business. I used my payout from retirement and my injury to start a construction company. Captain Construction. We make a pretty good living. And we help folks out when we can.”

You scooted closer to him on the seat.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“I don’t know. I feel like you are in my soul though, so…”

You gave Sy a peck on the lips, and he chased you for more.

“Want me to take you back to your place? Or would you like to see my house? Built it myself.”

You looked up in the air, as if it were even a choice.

“I want to see your house. You’ve got me curious.”

Sy grinned and started the truck. Then he shook his head and turned it off again.

“Ok, no bullshitting. If I take you to my place, I’m not gonna wanna take you back until daylight tomorrow. And maybe not even then.”

“I’ll go wherever you take me, Sy.”

—-

“Please Buttercup. I’m just a mere mortal. I can’t take this.”

You loved the way his voice broke and how Sy’s eyes were glued to your body, your glowing skin, your breasts swaying with each movement, your hand which was clutching him between your luscious thighs, which were on either side of his pelvis. You were pumping his engorged and weeping cock, teasing him, and yourself, by bouncing on just the tip, your small fist preventing full penetration. 

Sy’s hands were grasping the steel bars of his headboard, stuck there by the promise he made you when you began the end of his house tour. It was a beautiful home, and now you were about to fuck his beautiful cock.

But you were testing his patience. His knuckles were white, and his biceps and pecs were flexed, forearms straining to hold back. His abs were tensed and he was gritting his teeth as he tried to respect your request, but he didn’t know that his struggle was the sexiest part.

“Hmmmm. I think this feels as good to you as it does to me, Sy.”

Sy looked to where you were connected, silently willing you to let him enter you fully. He growled.

“Please, it can feel so much better. Fuck me, Buttecup. I’m yours.”

You keened as you worked yourself open on him.

“Loot at me baby. Please. Need to see your pretty little fucked out face.”

You moaned and did as he asked. You spoke with him, halfway incoherent with pleasure as you slid down his cock.

“So, fucking hugeee. I love this big dick, Sy.”

Sy groaned as you clenched around him.

“It’s yours.”

He licked his lips as he gazed at you opening up for him. Your slick cunt clenching his cock was the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I love that tight little pussy. Is it mine?”

You reached up and grabbed his shoulders as you adjusted to his size again. You looked into his dilated eyes and gave him a kiss in response.

“Shit is so fucking big. Ah.”

Sy was quivering beneath you, still holding back from going crazy on you. While he wanted to fuck you silly, he also wanted to savor this slow sensuality with you.

“Feels amazing,” you stared down into his blazing blue eyes as you slowly circled your hips.

“Yes, it does. Holy shit it does..”

You leaned down, kissed him and started moving. Sy watched your breasts as you arched backwards and he planted his feet to fuck up into you better.

“Oh! Sy! Feel so full. So good.”

Sy growled and let the bed go, causing a grin at his loss of control. He wrapped his arms around you and held you in place as his hips moved at the devil's pace. The sound of his dick breaching your wet pussy was everything. Skin slapping on skin was the music of your heartbeats at the moment. Sy’s hand found your clit and traced wicked circles there as he pounded you out, making your eyes spark as if with stars. 

“F-f-f- u-u-u-ck! I’m- I’m coming!”

It was embarrassing how quickly he had you there.

“Give me that shit, Buttercup.”

He stroked you through your peak as you gushed around him.

“Fuck. Got my balls dripping with you. This is my dream come true baby. Gimme more.”

He sat up, grabbing your ribcage and moving you up and down his now even slicker, impossibly bigger, cock.

“Shhitttt you feel so good!”

Sy looked down and then up at the ceiling, eyes rolling at the sight. He was about to cum. He manhandled you like a rag doll so that he could kiss you. Hard.

“You are hotter than the desert, Buttercup.”

Your hands moved up his abs to his pecs, rubbing your palms on his nipples as he growled and reached for you. He pulled on your sweaty breasts until your nipples remained pinched between his fingers.

“Ahhhhhh, Sy!” 

You moaned and rolled your hips as he pulled on your sensitive nubs.

“Love your fucking sounds, Buttercup.”

His hand was sliding up the column of your throat now, manhandling you in the way you’d come to love in such a short time. You moaned and Sy felt the vibrations of your voice box on his palm.

“You are so goddamn pretty when you are impaled on my cock. Can’t get enough of you.”

Sy leaned back on one arm so that he could pound you the way he wanted. 

“Fuck, want my cum, Buttercup?”

You were circling your own clit and squeezing your breasts at the same time. 

“God, yes, Sy. Give it to me!”

“Here it comes, godamn….!”

You felt his ropes of cum spurt against your cervix as he came forcefully inside you. Sy looked down to see it and your own juices eek out of you as he kept pulsling inside you.

“It’s like it’s never gonna end, fuck! Got so much for you Buttercup.”

You reached down and played in your combined slick as he pulsed again, bringing your fingers up to taste as Sy finally finished coming.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?”

You grinned and kissed him, as you collapsed on the bed reveling in your wet, sweaty bodies as he held you close. You wriggled out of his grip.

“Time for a shower, Sy.”

You smiled as you walked into his en suite, seeing him hot on your heels.

“Damn if I don’t die a happy man.”

You laughed at Sy as he got your hair wet again.

------

Hit Reblog if you like it!

[plant-based-feeder]

At first, you thought I was just a guy who liked bigger girls.

I let you eat whatever you want, and never told you that you’ve had too much.

I loved your curves, and was happy to help you add to them.

We went on cute dates, with chocolate, flowers, and even cute gifts to show that I loved you.

We were active. We went to the gym, loved going on vacations, and always went out on the weekends.

After a few month, you had changed from a curvy girl with a big ass and tits with a slimmer waste into a chunky girl with an ass that jiggles with every step and a belly that always seems to form a muffin top.

Then, the day came when I admitted that I was a feeder. You loved me, so you decided to go along with it.

Now whenever we get food, I always add an extra entree, or dessert, or at least make sure you get snacks afterwards.

I don’t just love your curves. I want to see you expand. I love the stretch marks, and the cellulite, and the new rolls forming all over your body.

Every date turned into a buffet trip. No more flowers or chocolate. Just me delivering plate after plate to my porky girl until she can’t even squeeze herself out of the booth.

Every activity now revolved around making sure you were fed. Every vacation was now just an opportunity for me to fly you to a new city with new restaurants to try. Our weekend club visits turned into us getting wasted and ordering 5 pizzas for you to stuff down your gullet. The gym wasn’t even an option anymore.

You were already fat before we started this feedism thing, but now you were straight up obese. You were wide, with a shelf of an ass and a belly that had grown down past your fupa. You were easily five hundred pounds. You could barely walk twenty feet without getting winded, and I’m pretty sure you hadn’t drank anything but coke and milkshakes in months.

At this point, you were fully into this feedism thing. You wanted it just as bad as I did. We talked for hours about how big you could get, what meals you would eat, and how hot it was to destroy your body like this.

Finally, we decided it was time to go all in. All you wanted to do was gain weight, so that’s all you would have to do from now on.

You no longer ate meals. Every day just consisted of a torrential onslaught of food that I would force down your throat from the time you woke up until you fell into a food coma.

All we wanted was to see you gain. Folds on top of folds, stretch marks across your entire body, and a triple chin that covered your entire neck.

No more dates, just feedings. We would get creative. Sometimes I would force feed you until you were just a morsel of food away from popping. Other times I would let you eat an entire cake off your massive belly while I ate you out.

At this point, you never left the house. You could barely walk, so why bother. No clubs, no gym, no vacations. Just the inside of our house and a mountain of food.

You were absolutely, grotesquely massive. It was a miracle that you could still move at all. You were so fat that you covered our queen size bed from corner to corner. You massive tits spilled over the sides of your belly, and your fupa was now as large as your belly was when this all started.

You were gorgeous, but not perfect.

One day, while you were locked away in your food coma, I brought in a machine. A large container with a tube. As you slept, I slowly inserted the tube down your throat and into your stomach. Then, with one flip of the switch, your fate was sealed. You awoke with a jolt, grabbing at the hose with a panicked look in your eyes, but soon you realized what was happening. Our eyes met, and I knew that this is what you wanted.

For however long you would live after this point, there was never a moment you weren’t packed to bursting. Your belly was now so accustomed to being full that it ballooned up above you like a deep red mountain, weighing heavy on your insides. At this point, your mind was so focused on how close you were to bursting that you could no longer think for yourself.

It was pure bliss

[twisted-king]

Salve!:D. I'm curious on how the vice-dormleaders would react(hc) if their S/O being like Silver. Not in a literal sense but in a "Always sleepy/sleeps in random places" sense. It would also be pretty funny if their S/O still aces their academics HAHA(￣▽￣)~*

omg!! YES!!!

Vice Dormleaders x Silver-like!Reader

Trey Clover

He's a little worried... Like do you get enough sleep?

Are classes too stressful?

Trey finds it cute if you fall asleep on his shoulder while studying or having afternoon tea. He'd chuckle and give a "Is my shoulder that comfortable?" line as soon as you wake up.

Yes, you've heard it hundreds of times.

Trey kind of insists on studying with you, he (wrongly) thinks you might fall behind due to all the napping you do.

of course these study sessions are comfortable for you so you're usually lulled asleep by his voice

So imagine his suprise when he asks you about your text scores.

He's here, all ready to console you with your favorite tart, arms open to prepare to be a good boyfriend and hug you when youre sad

Only to be met with "Oh the midterm..? I aced it, why?"

HUH???

WHAT???

You share the tart, he laments...

He likes to suprise you with little treats every now and again, he buys special little boxes to put them in all the time too.

one day, he happened upon you sleeping underneath the table in your dorm (he knows where to look at this point).

You woke up with a light weight on your chest, It was a small green box with a letter attached to it:

"A sweet treat after your sweet dreams,

XOXO

- Trey Clover

Jade Leech

"Oh? How interesting..."

Jade is a little weirdo, so I think this unique trait of yours REALLY facinates him!

He kind of develops a sixth sense for your eepiness. Like he'll be in a middle of a shift and just randomly take a break, just to be there for you when you wake up.

Jade BEGS you to try a bunch of (non poisonous) mushrooms to see if they make your drowsiness worse or better

"Would you not consider it at leas.." "No." "please.." "Just once.."

He's really convincing (6'5 and in a suit).

If you fall asleep in the monstro lounge he is NOT stopping Floyd from doodling on your face

He isnt too suprised by your competency with grades, but then again he lives with Floyd, its kind of hard to suprise him.

He still rewards you with a lil kiss on the forehead

Jade LOVES when you fall asleep on him, it lets him know you feel safe around him!! He keeps a pleased smile on his face when youre near him and sleepy in any capacity.

He wants to go on hikes with you SO BADLY.

You agree one day, it kind of ends with you being carried when you eventually fall asleep on a particularly warm rock.

"Whatever will I do with you, Angelfish..."

-Said while lovingly scooping you up

Jamil Viper

Sigh...

How you two got together is a mystery

But he feels a bit calmer with you around.

He's pretty busy with Kalim, so a lot of time spent together is during school, school activities, and while he's cooking.

Jamil gets a little anxious when youre out of sights. like... what if you're sleeping somewhere dangerous, or you suddently decided to persue mountain climbing?

You go to a lot of his basketball practices, he claims he plays a little better when youre around anyway, even if you fall asleep in the middle fo the game

Stops both Ace AND Floyd from doodling on your face during practices.

Now, as for grades. He isnt too worried about you, he's got kalim to deal with an an exam to underperform on.

After midterms, he does ask about how you did (as seems to be customary)

"I did pretty well... got a 98" "You what"-

He's...pleaseantly suprised! one less thing to worry about (despite that not being his responsibility)

Jamil likes cooking spicier and spicier food for you, both to see if you can handle it (he's a little competitive), and to wake ypu up a lil <3

He presses a kiss to your cheek for every "level" you complete

"What do you think, Flower?... ah, you fell asleep"

Rook Hunt

I'm sorry.... he's a little weird about it.

He has a LOT of pictures of you sleeping in odd places

Rook's favorite is his homescreen on his phone, it's you sleeping in an impossibly high tree kind of just.. hanging there. Its in super high quality though.

He likes leaving little notes about how cute you look while sleeping around

its like a little gift for when you wake up!!!

When he isnt watch you sleep he keeps a bottle of water and some fruit snacks to munch on. Sleeping this often must be tiring after all, you need your energy!

You know you can call for him just as easily as Vil can (if not easier... you bagged a SIMP)

So, sometimes you jokingly put a hand to your forehead and Rook comes SPRINTING.

His arms are outstretched ready to catch you into a fall and dip you into a kiss

Sometimes though, it is not a joke, and Rook dutifully scoops you up before you make eye contact with him.

It's Rook, so he kind of knew about your good grades already, but every time you tell him he gives you a little "Magnifique~" and kisses your knuckles.

Your dates are very odd. one week it'll be a romantic picnic he preapred for you, the next you're hunting for Leonas together, and after that? movie night!

"Ah~ how delightful it must be to be graced with your beautiful viasge. How I long to be the lone tree stump that captured your affections so.

<3

-Rook Hunt"

Lilia Vanrouge

Another one of them "ara ara?? how interesting" types

He's a father, whose had practice with Silver

Lilia always encourages you to do your best, he usually knows when to stop pushing you to study or focus by looking into your eyes.

He's huge on affections (touch starved Lilia HC my beloved), so Lilia sometimes conveniently floats on by if you start to get drowsy.

He would rather stroke your hair to sleep over you resting on the uncomfortable wooden desks

Also kind of a weirdo who isnt tooo suprised about your high grades. He kind of assumed you were studying in your free time without him.

However, that does not mean he doesnt want to reward your great scores!! He'll cook for you :)

"I was thinking of making a lovely lasagna, with some cinnamon and jalapeño for color.... oh dear, you seem to have fallen asleep."

"honk shmimimimimim" -you, clearly faking it

He always feigns hurt when you reject his cooking, but he knows of his reputation in the kitchen.

Lilia often takes you to new places, usually museums, but sometimes your dates are in a forest he recently discovered within Diasomnia's grounds. like a goth picnic

He has a photo album of your dates together, although he has a page or two dedicated to his favorite spots you've napped on.

Lils is super accomodating, as long as you dont mind his suprise hugs and some light jumpscaring

"Haha got you, little bat!"

-Lilia, after successfully scaring the HELL out of you