#hold on a sec let me check

[theinfinitedivides]

ghum shuda is a entire f*cking bop how did i not know this earlier

[heich0e]

Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.

Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.

Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.

But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.

His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.

Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.

Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.

He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.

You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.

"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."

"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."

"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"

Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.

The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.

"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."

Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.

Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.

He turns to you.

"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.

You pause your show again.

"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.

Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.

Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.

Beside him, you don't unpause your show.

When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.

"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Slowly, he turns to look at you.

"Did you just post this?"

He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.

The photo blessedly has left those out.

You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."

Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.

Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.

You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.

His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.

"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.

"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.

Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.

Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.

"You're being weird," you mumble.

"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."

You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.

You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.

You.

Touya purses his lips.

It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.

You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.

"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.

He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.

If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.

You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.

Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.

Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.

He takes your face in his hand.

"How do you block someone on Instagram?"

[huskersbooze]

Part 2 of Who's in Control?

Cordial

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2(here!) | Part 3 |

Summary : You and Alastor are still struggling to get back on good terms, both coping, but you still can't forget what he had done. Meanwhile, things with your soul's contract is going downhill..

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here) , Huskerdust(?)

Warnings : Valentino(he doesn't actually do anything he just sucks)

Additional Tags : Still kinda angst(sorry), cussing

Ib : Cordial by Set it Off

Word count : 1.2k

A/N : By popular request, I think I have an overall plot for this originally-to-be-oneshot? There will be more parts to come in the future <3 thank you all for being patient with me

"Hey.. ya’ wanna open the door for a sec?”

You roll off your bed and lazily walk over to open the door. Without looking, you unlock the door and let him in, turning to curl back up in bed.

“How ya’ holding up..?” Angel asks, seeing you in such a state making his heart ache. “We’re all really worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Angel.” You wrap yourself in your blankets and sit on the bed, Angel following.

“You haven’t come down in days. Charlie asked me to check on you.” He says.

“Does she know..?”

“About you and creepy face? Sorta.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“They all know something’s going on between ya’ two. They just don't know what.”

“Great.. let's keep it that way.” You try to force a smile but to no avail.

It was quiet for a moment. Awkward at first, yes, but you both started to enjoy the company.

“We're really worried about you.. ya'know? I'm worried.”

“Thanks.” You hum. “I appreciate it.”

“You gunna’ come get breakfast..? It'll be quick, I promise.”

“Is Al down there?”

“No.” He simply replied. “We don't really know what he's up to lately.”

“What d’you mean?”

“He's also been isolatin’ himself. We don't actually see him much around the Hotel.”

You stay quiet.

“What are we waiting for? Don't want the food to get cold, do we?”

Angel perks up.

“I thought ya'd never ask.”

-----

You follow Angel down to the lobby, where everyone gathered and ate their breakfast.

The others were surprised to see you, to say the least, but they decided not to interrupt.

It was nice that Angel was able to have you out of your room, they wouldn't want anything to make you go back.

“Hey, kid.” Husk whispers, handing you a plate of pancakes. “Your favourite.”

“Thanks, Husk.” You reply, giving him a genuine smile.

“Ya’ doing alright?”

You shrug. “Could be better.”

“Just glad you’re here, kid.”

“Glad to see you too.” You laugh, walking alongside Angel and Husk towards the table where everyone was having breakfast. “Good morning, guys.”

Everyone stays quiet — everyone consisting of Charlie, Vaggie and Sir Pentious only. Niffty was off dusting the halls.

“I’m fine, Charlie. Thanks for sending Angel to check on me.” You catch a glimpse of Charlie’s worried eyes glued to you, reassuring her it was okay.

“We’re glad to have you back.” She says.

Husk takes his normal seat, Angel on the right of him, leaving one open spot on the left.. not that he ate breakfast much, he usually showed up just to keep you company.. Alastor…

“How’s the breakfast, my dear?”

“It’s amazing! I don’t know why you never bother to try it.”

“I work better on an empty stomach. Plus, I’m more fond of deer.”

“Deer? You actually eat deer?” You asked, bewildered. “Like the whole thing?”

“Well, not the bones, of course not. But yes, I enjoy eating deer.”

“Aren’t you like.. a deer yourself?”

Alastor shoots you a look, and laughs whole-heartedly.

“You certainly don’t see Angel Dust befriending spiders in the hotel, do you?” He lets out another chuckle. “You are such a charmer. Besides, venison tastes exquisite.”

“I’ll try it sometime.” You shrug, taking another bite of your pancakes. “When do you eat this.. deer meal of yours?”

“Oh, all the time. In fact, I’ll be on my way to have it for breakfast later.”

“What’s stopping you from going now?” You tilt your head, licking off the syrup on your fork. Alastor stares at the sight and smiles, genuinely.

“You are, darling. I certainly can't leave a guest unattended.”

“What? Is that why you’re always here for breakfast but won’t actually eat anything? To accompany me?”

“By all means, if I’m intruding, do let me know and I’ll leave.”

“What? No!” You immediately finish your last bite of pancake. “I just think it’s time I accompany you for breakfast, don’t you think?”

His ears twitch.

“Come along then, darling.”

…

“Hey, kid, you alright?” You feel Husk give you a soft nudge on the elbow.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you blink and come back to your senses, seeing everyone staring at you with worry laced on their faces.

“You can go back if you want to.” Charlie says. “No pressure being here, really.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You say, immediately taking a big gulp of your pancakes. “I was just lost in thought.”

“Look out for yourself, aight, kid?”

“Yes, dad.” You joke. 

Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, and you can already tell who it is.

You stiffen.

Everyone stiffens.

You feel him stiffen from behind you.

After a second or two, you feel the presence start to leave. Acknowledging the fact there were no open seats and he rarely came for breakfast, you let out a sigh and hoped you won’t regret this later on.

“Morning, Alastor.” It comes out barely a whisper, your eyes glued to your now empty plate. “I was just leaving, you can have my spot.”

“Thank you, darling.” He simply says, placing his plate down as you took yours and left towards the kitchen. You could hear his voice was audibly more tired and broken, but you couldn’t bear looking him in the eyes.

You finish washing your plate in the kitchen, and as you turn, you see Alastor, standing right in your face, nearly bumping into him.

“Jeez! You scared the shit out of me, Al.” You put a hand over your chest.

“Ah, sorry, darling.” He says, ears perking at the mention of the sweet nickname he secretly loved hearing. “It wasn't my intention to startle you.”

“It's fine.” You shrug it off, catching a glimpse of his gaze and immediately melting right into it. Fuck, you had to leave. Now.

“Dear, wait.” He calls after you, but you ignore him.

“Please. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“And? Are you asking for forgiveness or what?” You sigh.

“I just hoped to apologise. I'm deeply sorry.”

“Okay.” You turn to leave. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Darling, can we start over?”

“We can't get back to normal even if we both play pretend.” You don't bother turning to face him, your voice starting to shake. “None of this shit between us is cordial, Alastor.”

“But we're friends, dear-”

“Are we? Friends don't lie to each other and make one another sell their soul to them. Have a nice breakfast.”

Alastor shuts up, watching as your back turns the corner and like that, you're gone.

-----

“Alastor, how nice of you to join.”

“Valentino. Surprised you aren't taking care of the useless screen.” Alastor acknowledges.

“Vox didn't want to be here, so I thought I'd fill in.”

Alastor takes a seat next to Rosie as the overlord meeting continues on.

“Before we leave, Alastor, may we have an update on the girl?”

His eye twitches, gaze turning to face one of the overlords.

“I simply don't know what you're talking about.”

“Alastor.” They warn. “She's not just any soul.”

“Everything is fully under control, don't fret.”

“Just a reminder, Alastor~ If you fail, she's mine to take.”

“No need to remind me.” He smiles at Valentino, a bit too friendly.

Rosie sends Alastor a look.

Oh whatever is he going to do about this deal.

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 3 HERE

Taglist : @musicalsundrop @for-hearthand-home @saeran-g @smoky000 @otherthoughtsofbu @letmebeagreekstatueyoumotherfuck @hudiexiaoying @prettyboychoso @thonethatflies620 @alastorssimp @impatiencepersistonthinstring @speaker15 @zq13 @starr11111 @fokrilove @aloraaaxcrystalzx @simps-for-to-many-people @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @ohdarlingohdeer @sophiasrant @soyobi-wankenobi @karolinda007-blog @alastorsgirl48 @memymay @perrynina @john-kramer-0807 @preciousbabypeter @sugxryratz @polytheatrix @maksdust @96jnie @spirit-of-the-hollow @chirimeimei @itsukiestia @sky2lar (Tumblr hates me. I can't tag empty blogs (or is that a rule idk about?))

If you want to be on this fics taglist leave a comment! Please specify you want to be tagged or else I won't tag blogs that ask for another part cuz it doesn't seem polite- Thanks in advance <3

[itostea]

better than me?

Gojo comes home to find you fangirling over a book character named Aaron Warner

warnings: uni! au, reader is called pretty girl, fluff, idiots in love, idk what this even is

Unread messages. One Five missed calls. No good morning or good night texts.

As of late, Satoru thinks you’ve been distant towards him–ghosting him while he was suffering on a trip his parents forced him to go to. It gets to the point where he thinks he did something to upset you and before he can drive himself mad with far-fetched possibilities, he thinks he should check up on you.

“Honey I’m back!” He bellows out, discarding his shoes to the side of his apartment that you practically live in now. His brows furrow at the lack of response, a bit disappointed at the fact that you could’ve been out. 

It’s only when he catches a whiff of your shampoo and perfume that he allows himself to grin. His place was already overtaken by your presence: the scent of vanilla, the sweaters you leave neatly folded on the couch whenever it got too hot, the extra toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed you. 

He rushes to the living room, his entrance dramatic as his words. “There you are! Why weren’t you there to greet me at the door? Do you not love me anymore?”

“Oh ‘Toru,” You mumbled absentmindedly and it only took him a while to catch sight of the book in your hands–considering the fact his eyes landed on your (his) hoodie you wore. “You’re back. How was your trip?” 

He frowns, his lips parting to release a sigh. “That’s it?”

His heart does something funny when you finally look up at him, tilting your head in genuine confusion. “Hm?”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Wait one sec let me finish this chapter first, Satoru.”

It’s ‘Toru, 'he wants to say but settles on walking to where you sit, his eyes landing on the stack of books on the table–most of which seem to be of the romance genre. There’s a colorful display of sticky tabs decorating the pages of the book and a pen you keep close to you. He leans down to squat, his fingers playing with the book tabs–his mind wandering to the time you mentioned reading to him. “I thought you were reading literature. Like Shakespeare or I don’t know! Not sappy books about love.”

“Sappy books about love is literature. And who reads Shakespeare for fun?”

“Like I would know,” he mutters, standing up to walk behind the couch where he can get a peek of the pages–an offended laugh escaping his lips the moment he sees what scene you were reading so seriously. He easily steals the book out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “So Aaron Warner huh?”

“I was reading that!”

“Baby I can’t believe you were ignoring my messages for this,” he clicks his tongue. “This is worse than catching you make out with another man.”

“Okay that’s a bit of a stretch and besides, you go on trips all the time. Also, who would I even make out with?”

“Aaron Warner!”

You roll your eyes. “Satoru, he’s literally words on paper.”

He narrows his eyes at you and for a moment, you think he’s going to stop. Yet, he continues to observe the stack of books on the table all over again. “So that’s what my money goes towards? Books about other men–”

“Hey! I bought these books with my own money!”

“Oh,” he huffs, suddenly looking insulted. “So you don’t spend my money?”

Your lips release an annoyed groan and you roll your eyes for the nth time–wondering how his mood was all over the place. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Why do you need to read about Aaron Warner when you have me?” He says, climbing over the couch to sit next to you. You don’t object when he easily props you on his lap and discards the book to the side–his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Your heart clenches at the feeling of his hands gripping your hips as if it were second nature to him–how he looked at you like he had the world on his lap. 

You clear your throat, not able to resist the urge to tease him. “You know. I wish I had a strong, handsome man holding me right now.”

“What? Like Aaron Warner?”

“That’d be great actually–” Your words die on your lips as he begins his assault of kisses on your face–peppering them along your jaw and neck. Gojo can’t help but smile against your neck at the sound of your surprised laughter, his head coming up so he can flash you a boyish grin. 

“Still think he’s better than me sweetheart?”

“You’re jealous of literal words on paper!” You try to retort, your lips a bit swollen and your hair fairly all over the place. He can’t help but press another wet kiss to your cheek, laughing at your sound of disgust.

“So what if I’m jealous? My girl’s not paying attention to me squealing over–”

“I was not squealing–!”

“--Squealing over a book character,” he finishes, taking his hands off your hips to cross them.

You frown, heaving a sigh at the sight of him–a bit affected by the loss of warmth his hands provided. You open your arms, looking at him expectedly. “Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your messages or calls while you were on your trip, in your billion dollar vacation house by the way.”

He only huffs at your sarcasm but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch in amusement. “And?”

“And,” you roll your eyes again. “I’m sorry I said Aaron Warner was better than you. So you can please just hold me again?”

Your boyfriend watches you carefully, pretending to sulk at the sight of your teasing smile. You’re cold to the touch–your hands and feet always contrasting the warmth of his own. You still smell like yourself but he likes how he can catch a whiff of the body wash he uses on you. I miss you, is what his hug says. 

His arms easily flip you on your back as he presses his weight over you, his grin wide and lovesick. “You know what? I think I might read the book myself to see what’s so special about this Aaron guy.”

You laugh. “Are you being for real?”

“For real, real, pretty girl.”

Bonus:

It’s been a week since Satoru’s returned from his trip and you’re starting to think he likes the books a bit too much. And you’re still convinced he’s not over your petty argument about Aaron Warner–seeing as he rushes to you on a peaceful evening. 

“You wanna know something sweetheart?”

“What is it now ‘Toru,” you groan, having just woken up from your nap. 

“Aaron Warner’s only 5’9.”

“What about it?”

“I’m 6’3.”

“...” 

“...”

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“Add that onto the list “Why Toru is better than Aaron Warner.”

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Kiss Me*

————————————————————————-

Summary: Another Joe prank! After engaging with so many couple pranks and trends on Tiktok, your FYP just keeps giving you more ideas! This time it's wiping your lips after Joe kisses you…

Warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, smut at the end.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*no particular date for this blurb!*

(y/n’s pov)

Today was a slow, boring, rainy day. Joe was downstairs making dinner and playing with the boys while doing so. My parents were coming down for dinner tonight and Joe has always felt the need to make a three-course dinner for them every time they come over, even though he’s had their approval for several years now.

I sat upstairs on the bed. It was that time of the month and I was also coming down from a stomach virus, not fun at all. The only positive was Joe playing sexy nurse for me, bringing me soup, and tissues, checking my temp, holding my hair when I got sick, just all around being the best husband ever.

The sounds of giggles spewing from my twin boys playing with their daddy warmed my heart. Their laughing patterns had me guessing what was going on down there. My hypothesis was Joe was “chasing” the boys, catching them, trapping them on the couch, and tickling the daylights out of them.

I was contemplating going down there to find out but the giggling stopped, and before I knew it Joe was walking into our room. He respectively knocked and when I told him to come in he did.

“Hey. You doing okay, mama?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you softly smiled

“That's good. Do you need anything? If you're not feeling 100% we can cancel on your parents, I'll even call them myself.” - Joe

“No, I’m okay Joe. I appreciate your offering though. Can you come here for a sec?” - you

“Mhm.” - Joe

Joe softly smiled at me as he made his way over to the bed and got under the covers on his respective side.

I rolled over into his chest and got comfortable as Joe rubbed my back.

“I love you, J.” - you

“I love you more. I've got dinner mostly done, a couple of pieces of chicken aren't up to temp yet but the sides are finished.” - Joe

“Good job Mr. Chef.” - you giggled

“Mr. Chef? Sounds kinky.” - Joe chuckled

“Joseph Lee!” - you leaned up and gave him a dirty look only to find him laughing with his head back.

“Sorry, I had to. You should know by now that if there's an opportunity for a dirty joke Imma jump on it.” - Joe

“I know it, and your jokes are funny. Just get it out of your system before your in-laws are here, Burrow.” - you laughed

“Yes ma'am!” - Joe laughed along with you.

Joe went to lean down for a kiss and a memory flashed in my mind from this morning.

This morning when I woke up alone in bed the shower in the bathroom told me that Joe was in there, I scrolled on TikTok for a little bit and ended up in my collection of videos saved with the title “Do with Joe.”

It consisted of all the couple trends and pranks that I've already done on him plus ones I wanted to do but haven't yet.

Due to the gloomy weather outside, I felt like a prank would be fun to do today. This one specifically was going to be very fun.

Joe and I kiss maybe 10,000,000 times a day. That's definitely not an exaggeration either. Before we were even a couple we loved little pecks or even long make-outs; kissing each other was just essential when the feeling of each other’s lips felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

What this prank was is every time your partner kissed you, you'd wipe it off. Whether it be a hand kiss, a cheek kiss, a forehead kiss, or a kiss on the lips. It was to be wiped off.

Now that Joe was going to kiss me for the first time it was a perfect time to let the ranking begin.

His smooth pink lips were on mine softly and before I knew it he was pulling away.

Joe smiled down at me as he started to lean up from the bed but paused when I wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

The small smile on his lips faltered and he furrowed his brows at me.

“I've brushed my teeth this morning, so I don't have morning breath… what's up?” - Joe

I shrugged and Joe frowned.

“Are you worried you're gonna get me sick? Because you know my immune system is like a brick wall… even if you were still a little sick we could have a full make out and I promise I’d be fine.” - Joe

“Mmm, okay.” - you giggled

Joe smiled at me giggling at his response, hoping that meant he had convinced me to let him kiss me. It was a few seconds later that Joe leaned in again, pressing his lips with a little bit more force than the first time.

“I love yo-” - Joe stopped when you wiped his kiss off again

“Baby, I’m fine to kiss you.” - Joe

“I know.” - you

“Then why do you keep wiping my damn kisses off??” - Joe whined

“Just don’t feel like it today.” - you

He looked hurt and taken aback by my reasoning. Joe knew I loved kissing him so this was weird to him. Was it something he did?

Eventually, Joe walked out of the room playing with his bracelets anxiously. I'm going to absolutely smooch him to death later because even though I'm choosing to do these pranks, he always takes them personally and it makes me feel bad.

After getting out of bed and ready for dinner, I walked downstairs to find Joe setting the table. Tyson and Miles were already dressed in their usual matching fashion and their hair was fixed. My heart warmed since their hair had recently started getting curlier, and they now both had one singular blonde hair hanging over their forehead. They're just like their daddy.

“Thanks for getting the boys ready.” - you smiled at Joe

“Oh, you're welcome. I didn't want you to have to do it so I went ahead and did.” - Joe

I nodded and walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his chest after he put the last plate down.

“Have you heard from my parents?” - you

Joe laid his head against mine and mumbled a “Mhm”.

“They said they'd be here in around 30 minutes.” - Joe

“Okay sounds good. Do you need help with anything?” - you

“Nope, I've got it all. Dinner is done, the table is set, the boys are ready, and drinks are in the fridge.” - Joe

Pulling away from his chest, my smile gleamed as I looked at my man.

“You are the best husband ever, Joe.” - you

“I try to be, baby. You deserve nothing but the best and that's what I try to be.” - Joe

“Gosh. I love you so much. You make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, Joe.” - you

Joe was grinning and rubbing my back, he went to lean in and kiss me but awkwardly paused and pulled back.

“Sorry I… forgot.” - Joe

Fuck.

God I was supposed to be pranking him but now all I wanted to do was grab him, throw him on the couch, cuddle him, and whisper in his ear how much I loved him as I kissed all over his face.

“You make this so hard.” - you sighed

“W- what?” - Joe

“I’m supposed to be pranking you by wiping my mouth after you kiss me but now I just feel bad. You're too sweet and cute for your own good. I'm sorry for pranking you again. I think it's going to be funny but then you make me sad.” - you

“Sorry for ruining your prank, baby.” - Joe giggled

“You didn't ruin anything… you're just too… perfect.” - you

“Def not perfect. I'm not gonna lie though, I'm a little sad about your prank.” - Joe

“I'm so sorry. After my parents leave we can do whatever you want, I won't complain.” - you

——

“Bye guys, see you soon!” - you

“Bye, get home safe!” - Joe

“Bye, gamma!!” - Tyson

“Bye, gwampy!” - Miles

My parents waved bye at us one last time before Joe opened the front door and gently guided the boys inside.

“Mama, tuck me in?” - Miles

“Of course, sweetie!” - you grinned at your boy

“Me too mama!” - Tyson hugged your leg

“I’ll tuck you both in don't worry.” - you smiled

“Why do you guys not want Daddy to put you to bed?!” - Joe

Joe held his arms up in defeat, waiting for Tyson or Miles to answer as they hugged at my legs.

“You don't read as good as Mama.” - Miles giggled

Joe’s mouth hung open from how distraught he was that his boys were turning away from him. I giggled at the look on his face before bending down to rub the boys’ backs to get their attention.

“Say goodnight to Dada and then we’ll go upstairs.” - you

Tyson was the first one to detach from me and run up to Joe, who happily scooped him up with one arm. Ty laid his head on his dad’s shoulder and Joe leaned over to kiss his cheek. He ran his fingers through the light blonde hair that was identical to his when he was their age.

“G’night, Dada.” - Tyson

“Night night buddy.” - Joe handed him over to you

Joe squatted down and Miles immediately walked into his father's embrace, wrapping his tiny arms around Joe’s neck as he hugged him. Joe had one hand on Miles's back and the size comparison was insane, his hand covering his son’s entire back.

“Night, Daddy.” - Miles

“Goodnight, Mi-guy.” - Joe

Miles wiggled out of Joe’s arms and back over to me. Joe stood back up at his full height and towered over me in such a delicious way.

“Stay down here. I'll be coming back down soon.” - you

The smirk forming on his lips told me he read between the lines and he realized the promise I made earlier was more sexual than he had originally thought.

Anything I want, Joe thought.

——

The boys went to sleep rather quickly but before I went downstairs I made a beeline for the bedroom. I grabbed a hairband put my hair up, just in case, and took my clothes off. I slipped one of Joe’s shirts over my naked body and went downstairs.

Joe was sitting on the couch, manspreading in his usual fashion as he watched the TV in front of him.

The light from the TV showed off every beautiful curve in his face and accentuated his chiseled jawline.

After giving him a slow look up and down, my eyes lingered on his crotch where a clear bulge had formed in his slinky shorts.

He's definitely been thinking about what he wants to do.

Walking out of my hiding spot on the stairs, Joe’s eyes averted from the TV to my frame and a smile graced his lips when he saw my ponytail.

“Hey…” - you sat down next to Joe

Joe flicked the TV off, and now the room was only being lit by the small table lamps, this lighting made Joe look ridiculously sexy.

He looked over at me and licked his lips.

“What are we gonna do?” - you smiled

I watched Joe fist his shorts and pull the legs of them higher up, showcasing more of his gorgeous muscular thighs. God, those thighs.

“Since you didn't want those pretty lips touching my lips. We're gonna use them somewhere else. Sound good, mama?” - Joe

Nodding, a smirk formed on Joe’s lips as I lowered onto my knees.

I palmed Joe through his shorts causing him to groan, and satisfied I pulled them and his boxers down his long legs.

Joe’s dick was already hard, swollen, and slightly wet from the precum beading at the red tip.

Gesturing for Joe to lift his arms, I pulled his shirt over his head and almost moaned at the familiar sight of his erect cock laying against his chiseled torso.

Taking his base in my hand I finally did what Joe had been wanting, kissing his tip sloppily.

“Oh god. Fucking suck it baby.” - Joe groaned

That was all the praise I needed to take his length into my mouth, sucking on it as I bobbed up and down. Joe was groaning and cursing left and right.

“Your mouth baby… your lips, wish I could have ‘em around my cock 24 fucking 7.” - Joe

His words only made me moan around him, causing Joe to moan out himself.

Joe was letting me do the work, for now. It wasn't long after I thought that when he grabbed my ponytail and started moving me on his cock.

“Atta girl, mama. Makin’ me feel so good.” - Joe

Minutes later Joe’s hips started bucking, signaling to me that he was close so I doubled my efforts. My hand moved on his base to stimulate what I couldn't get in my mouth and Joe’s moans told me he appreciated it.

“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum.” - Joe moaned

It was soon after that, I tried to quicken my pace even more and Joe was an absolute mess. He was choking on his own groans and was so close.

“Baby! I'm cumming!” - Joe grunted out

Shortly after his warning he released in my throat. I stayed with his dick in my mouth as I watched him through my lashes.

Joe looked completely blissed out and his chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. His forehead was also sweaty and the veins that ran through his body were bulging out.

He pulled at my ponytail, telling me to get off, and when I did I grabbed a tissue out of the box on the end table to clean him up.

After I cleaned Joe up and slipped his boxers back on, I went to wipe my mouth off but Joe grabbed my forearm.

“Dont you fucking dare wipe your lips.” - Joe

Feeling the abundance of saliva and precum on my lips and chin, I sucked in a heavy breath.

“Kiss me.” - Joe

————————————————————————-

Authors note: guys even I'm giggling at the ending.

Request for this fic; (anon I literally took your idea and RAN with it. I actually have no way to defend myself on how this turned into a BJ.)

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[wosoamazing]

Sick

Summary: You get sick at training and no one can get a hold of Leah

Warnings: Sick, angst??, IDK

A/N: decided to give you all another fic. I hope you like this one, I don't know how good it is.... also please do send requests in, I want to make sure I'm writing things people will enjoy.

Training today just felt harder than usual, yes you had off days, but something was different, it wasn’t just that you weren’t playing as well, you were hotter, you were running out of breath quicker than usual, you head hurt slightly. Everyone around you noticed but didn’t want to say anything, your teenage hormones were at their peak currently, as Leah put it and you were quick to snap at anyone for no real reason. You stayed quite about it though and just tried to push through, that was until you felt like you were going to pass out and you decided you should probably sit down. So, you went up to Jonas.

“Y/N, how can I help you?”

“Umm, I’m just feeling a little hot, was just wondering if I could sit down for a bit,” “yeah sure why don’t you go inside to the dining room and sit down there, it will be cooler in there than out here, lunch is only 25 or so away anyway,” “Thanks Jonas,” you said, and you turned around, probably a little too fast as everything spun, you stumbled a little and shut your eyes, hoping that no one noticed you continued to make your way into the dining room and sat on one of the chairs, everything was still slightly spinning but it wasn’t too bad. Just as you were about to rest your head on the table you heard footsteps which grew louder, until they stopped, and Katie was standing next to you.

“Hey,” you mumbled.

“Hey, Jonas sent me in here to check on you. You okay?”

“No, I feel like crap” you replied. It was the truth. In an effort to feel better, you shut your eyes and rested your head on the table, it was cool to touch, Katie put her hand on the back of your neck, and she winced at the heat that was radiating off you.

“I think you need to go see a medic.”

“No, I’m fine.” you snapped.

“Okay, well I’ll leave you to it then,” she stood up starting to walk out.

“Katie,” you softly cried out, she looked back at you “can you stay?”

“Only if you let me get a medic to look at you,” she tried compromising.

“Fine.” You sighed. Katie messaged someone on her phone and a few minutes later one of the medics came in. “38.7, not too bad, get her to take two of these and try and see if you can get her sister to take her home, if she is still here in about 45 minutes, we will come check on her again. Also get her to drink the rest of that and another one at least” The medic said to Katie pointing at your water bottle, Katie nodded. “Oh, and have one of these,” Katie screwed her face up at the sight of the emesis bag she really couldn’t handle that type of sick, “look she shouldn’t need it but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Katie nodded agreeing with that statement. She got you to take two Panadol and to drink some water before you fell asleep. She did wake you every ten minutes to drink some more water however you didn’t really remember that.

“Hey, can you sit up for just a sec,” you look up to see the medic, she takes your temperature and checks your breathing. “39.1” the medic and Katie look at each other you place your head back on the table, and whimper slightly at the movement of your head, however the table felt nice on your head as it was cool.

“Where the fuck is Leah! Why isn’t she answering her phone,” Katie yelled becoming more furious with Leah by the second.

“Why don’t you just take her home?” Kim asked.

“Because Leah is a genius. Who doesn’t give their 16-year-old sister a key? and she refuses to let me take her to mine.” Katie replies

“You could call Sarina,” you decided to chime in.

“What’s her number though?” “Give it here,” you put Sarina’s number into Katies phone, Katie quickly pressed the call button and to her amusement Sarina picked up.

“Hi Sarina, its Katie McCabe, I am really sorry to be calling but we have Y/F/N here and she isn’t feeling well at all, and we have been trying to get a hold of Leah for 45 minutes but she won’t answer, and we understand she is doing important media duties however Y/N does have a temperature of 39.1C, and we think it would be best if she went home.” There was a pause, Sarina must’ve been talking “Okay, thank you so much, so sorry again. Bye”

“She’s coming,” everyone let out a sigh of relief, they hated seeing you so sick and helpless knowing that Leah was the one thing that might make you feel better.

“Leah?” you questioned, starting to cry.

“Yeah, she’s coming, like 10 minutes,” Katie said as she started to rub your back, you placed your head back on the table and continued to cry, you just felt so sick and wanted your sister.

“Hey, I’m here.” Leah said as she rounded the corner, her heart melting at the scene in front of her. You were still crying head on the table, Katie was still rubbing your back looking like she might cry at any moment, she just wanted to help, and she couldn’t.

“Oh, bug.” Leah cooed at the sight, and she continued towards you, you lifted you head up tears still falling. She kneeled down beside you and put her hand on your forehead, she winced and looked at Katie, “39.1 last we checked.”

“Bug, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” She said, ready to cry herself.

“Can we go home?” you whimpered, as she pulled you in for a hug, she noticed the slight dampness of your skin.

“Let me go talk to the medic first,” she said as she stood up.

“I’ll go get her stuff for you,” Lia said as she went to the locker room. The girls remaining all looked at each other, you couldn’t resist a smirk.

“Why do you have two bags Lia?” your sister questioned.

“Le, don’t do this, I’ve spoken to Jonas, and he agrees that you’re going to need help, come on I’ll drive you home.” She replied.

“Carry me?” you whined looking at your sister who sighed before picking you up and taking you home, the girls all made eyes at each other as the three of you walked out.

_______

“Le, I’m back” Lia said as she walked through the door. “We’re still in here.” Leah replied, she was sitting up against the head board of her bed, you had your head in her lap and your body laid parallel to the headboard, your training top was on the end of the bed and you were just in your crop top and training shorts, Leah had taken your shirt off in hopes of cooling you down, your sweaty body was making the sheets slightly damp, as she rain her fingers through your hair.

“Hey” Lia said softly as she walked into the room, carrying the bag of items she bought to help you. “What you got in there” Leah asked looking at the quite full bag.

“Just the essentials,” Lia pulled out some medicine first, then some hydrolyte, followed by a thermometer “I guessed you didn’t have one of these,” she pulled some more items out “Oh and I got some of these,” Leah’s brow furrowed at the sight of the emesis bags, “they might come in handy one day” Lia said as she shrugged.

“Thank you, Lia for everything not just for today” your sister replied.

“It’s no problem, how is she?”

“I don’t really know, she never gets sick it’s been years, I’m just really worried. Should we check her temperature again?” with of nod of Lia’s head they pulled the thermometer out of its packing and checked your temperature. “Shit,” Lia’s brow furrowed “39.5, what do we do Li, do we take her to the hospital, the doctor?” Leah said heartbroken a tear rolling down her check.

“She hasn’t had any medicine yet has she?” Lia questioned.

“I think they gave her some Panadol at the colony but other than that no”

“Okay well we’ll give her some ibuprofen, and help her take a lukewarm bath, and if her temperature hasn’t gone down or if it goes up after 30 minutes, we can take her to the hospital, how does that sound?” Leah just nodded agreeing with Lia, she just wanted to help you but in this moment she felt helpless. “You give her the medicine and I’ll start the bath”.

“Bug, can you wake up for me?” Leah said softly shaking you. You sat up, leaning against the headboard, resting you head on the wall.

“Here can you take this, it will help you feel better,” Leah said handing you two tablets and your water bottle, you took them and then went to lay back down on Leah, but she stopped you, as the bath was now ready.

“Bug we’re going to put you in the bath for a little while,” you groan at Leah’s words, she helps you up and places you in the bath still clothed. She let you sit there while she went to get the pair of you new clothes, nothing fancy of course, just some PJs. After your bath Leah helped you get changed before carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Oh, you didn’t have to Lia,” she said noticing Lia was just finishing off changing the sheets on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s all good, here have this” she said as she placed a pillow down for you and Leah. You laid between the two girls with your head resting on Leah’s arm, they rechecked your temperature and it was now back to 39.1, they weren’t super happy with it but happy enough not to take you to the hospital, you spent the next four days in bed sick, Leah and Lia both trying to help you get better.

[macfrog]

welcome home cowboy like me chapter five

he's back!!! and he's putting up DECORATIONS part v is yours, loves. if ya wanna read the first four (!! how did we get here) parts, you can check out my masterlist right here 😊 as always your support means the WORLD to me. i love talking with y'all & hearing your thoughts. lmk what we think of this one!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel requests your help to decorate his house for sarah’s return…and a few other things, too

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! the smut is smutting. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it the fuck UP), praise kink, lil bit of overstimulation, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), un poco consumption of alcohol, cursing, soft!joel at the end tbh i'm a sucker for him

word count: 5.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first. You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second? “I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

The two front legs of your chair scrape against the wooden floor as you lift it to sit down. Your dad had an early finish today, so said he’d cook dinner. From scratch.

He’d refused your help when you offered to keep an eye on the chicken, was more offended when you said you’d cook the asparagus, and now, looking at your scrunched nose as you stare down at the lumpy mashed potatoes, looks just plain insulted.

“Sit, eat, don’t say a word.”

“I offered to help.”

His fork hits off the porcelain plate and he sighs. “I had a lot to tend to, alright?”

“Chicken, asparagus, and…mashed potatoes?” you say, dragging your fork through the mash – though it’s more lump than it is mash.

“Eat. It.”

You tuck in, ignoring the rattle of the table as you tug your knife back and forth to cut the chicken. Your dad’s face reddens as you chew your way through his meal.

“How was work?”

You throw your mouthful back your throat with a gulp and take a big swig of water. “Good,” you try not to choke out, “Sal let me go early ‘cause it was so quiet.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Bill was in lookin’ for screws or something. Was Anna who helped him–”

Your sentence is cut short by your dad’s ringtone, and he leans back in his chair to the sideboard behind to retrieve it.

“Yep?” he says, and you know who’s on the other end. Yep? means Joel. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her. Well, she’s right here, gimme a sec.”

He covers the bottom of his phone with his palm, and nods toward you.

“You alright to head over to Joel’s tonight ‘n help ‘im with the house for Sarah comin’ home?”

You narrow your eyes, head tilting. “What…?”

“He’s got some banner or something. Joel, what is it you got? Yeah, a banner. Decorations.”

He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you blankly.

You slowly nod, teeth pulling asparagus off your fork. “I can help.”

“She’ll be over in a bit, Joel. Alright. Alright. Bye, now.”

The phone is thrown onto the table with a clatter. Your dad silently resumes eating.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal over something you feel very not normal about.

“You volunteerin’ me for things again? I thought we talked about this when you told Rita I’d fix up her flowerbeds for her.”

“Oh, we’re bringin’ up the past, are we?”

“Just sayin’,” you mutter, staring down at your lumpy potatoes.

“Wasn’t me, anyways. Joel asked for you specially this afternoon. Told him you were workin’, he said to ask you when you got back. Was his idea.”

Was it, now? That’s…interesting.

“What time’s he wanting me over?”

“Whenever. He’s in all night.”

Suddenly you’re not so hungry for overcooked chicken and not-mashed potatoes anymore.

You swallow down what you can – what’s edible, anyway – and head upstairs to get ready. Trying to act casual enough that your dad won’t sense your eagerness.

Sure, just grabbing my shoes. I just want the house to look nice for Sarah. It’s really her I’m thinking of. Okay, cool, see you, bye.

You throw a pair of sneakers on, check yourself once over in the mirror, and grab your keys.

“That was quick,” your dad remarks when you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still powering through his asparagus.

“Just…wanna get it done. For Sarah, y’know.”

He nods. “You lookin’ forward to havin’ her back? Your ol’ pal?”

“Sure. Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”

You practically throw yourself out the front door before he can get another word in, striding over to your car. You’re thankful when the late sun hits you to only be in sweat shorts and a vest top; it may be seven in the evening, but the heat is still stifling.

You pull up in Joel’s drive and climb out, giving the neighborhood a quick scan as you walk over to the front door, trying not to skip. Being handed an excuse to spend a few hours alone with him in an empty house feels like winning the lottery, you’re a little embarrassed to admit.

Joel’s in the living room laying out the decorations he’s bought when you walk in. He’s wearing a denim shirt and white Rangers tee underneath, his regular old jeans on the bottom.

His Hello is comprised of a glance up, a lift of his eyebrows, and a quick scan over your body as you approach. You take a deep breath to dissipate the bubbling feeling in your stomach.

“So, you asked for me specially, huh?”

He nods. “It was either you or your dad, and his ass ain’t as nice to look at as yours.”

“Oh, nice. Glad to be of service. Looks good,” you muse, nodding downward.

The supplies are sprawled out over the coffee table between you both. A huge banner folded up; the beginning of the word Welcome visible. A few packets of multi-colored streamers, balloons, and other gold and silver colored stuff lay around it.

“Probably won’t use it all,” Joel says, sniffing. “Just wanted to give her a big welcome home.”

“All my dad did was pick me up at the airport,” you scoff.

Joel looks up, misses a beat, then says, “Well, your welcome home gift is me.”

“Ha. Good one. C’mon. Let’s get started.”

You task Joel with blowing up balloons while you balance along the back of his couch to tape streamers to the top of the walls. It’s a struggle, though, since Joel keeps tying balloons and hitting them over to you, aiming for your head. He titters to himself when your hair begins to go static.

“That funny to you?” you yell, whacking the fifth balloon out of your face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles back. “You should see your hair, kid.”

By the time the streamers are suspended from the ceiling, dancing in the breeze from the open windows, Joel’s out of breath and sweating.

“Hard fuckin’ work,” he mutters, taking off his shirt. He throws it onto the couch without looking, but still, you suspect he knows exactly what you’ll do.

With a sideward glance to him, you lean back and fish it from the couch, throwing it over yourself. There’s something intoxicating about wearing his clothes, smelling him all over yourself, feeling the warmth from his body. Joel knows it. When he glances over at you to see his shirt hanging off your shoulders, he smirks.

“I think we deserve a break,” he says, eyes lingering.

When he makes off for the kitchen, you throw yourself down on his couch, head falling back against the soft cushions.

He returns with two beers, handing one down to you before laying back beside you. Your shoulders rub against one another as you both take a swig.

“Your dad really didn’t do nothin’? When you got home?”

“I guess you could say he did the barbecue,” you reply, shrugging.

“The neighborhood barbecue, that everyone takes a turn at hostin’? The same one he had you out buyin’ steaks and soda for, two hours before it started?”

“I don’t need a welcome home party. I am the welcome home party.” Your middle finger meets your thumb and you give your wrist a shake in the air, and Joel laughs.

“You deserve one.”

“You wanna throw me one?”

“Can do. If you want.”

You smile in response.

A few moments of silence pass. Comfortable silence. You lie, temple resting against Joel’s shoulder, listening to the trees in his back yard rustle, the birds singing. Peaceful, tranquil. Content.

You like talking with Joel. You like when he’s doing other stuff to you, sure, but you like just being around him. It’s different to spending time with anyone else his age. They all want to ask about your future, your career, are you dating anyone?

Joel just lets you be. Doesn’t push nothin’, doesn’t make you worry. Just wants to make you feel good.

Both mentally and physically, of course.

“Heard any more from Arthur Kennedy?” you ask, more just to hear his voice again than anything. You’re kinda worried he’s falling asleep over there.

Joel takes a deep breath, starts playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Nope,” he says, taking a quick sip, “and don’t wanna.”

“What is it with him, anyways? Why is he the way he is?”

“Just a dirtbag of a man. You get ‘em, y’know? Ain’t none of us really like him. I was pissed at your dad for askin’ him the other day.”

“What does he say at Frank’s? What kinda talk does he give?”

Joel shakes his head like he doesn’t even want to open his mouth. When you nudge him, he clears his throat and then speaks.

“Just all this, ‘I bagged this chick last week’, ‘I was messin’ ‘round with this little beauty’… ‘Tighter ‘n a’ this, ‘Wetter ‘n a’ that. We all know he’s just talkin’ load. The man’s too old to even get an erection anymore.”

You snort. “I bet I could run rings around ‘im, if I ever caught him talking like that.”

Joel half laughs, but it falls apart when his tone gets quietly serious again.

“Just…do me a favor, and stay away from him,” he says in a soft voice. “You’d have me up all night if I thought him ‘n his sleazy hands were anywhere near you.”

He turns his head to lean his jaw on your hair. You think over what he just said. The thought of Joel, awake all night with worry about some sleazeball being within a four-house radius of you makes your stomach flutter.

The idea of him being worried about you. The thought of what he’d do if he ever caught wind Arthur Kennedy had even so much as looked at you twice.

Before your stomach lurches out of your throat with the butterflies soaring around it, you decide to cut the moment short.

“Where’s the banner goin’?” You lean forward, placing your beer on the coffee table and taking hold of the sign.

“Was thinkin’ on that wall,” Joel nods to the wall across from the living room door, “so it’s the first thing she sees when she comes in.”

“Uhuh,” you reply, nodding.

“C’mere,” he says, standing up. “Climb on.”

“Climb on what?”

“My shoulders. I can’t reach all the way up there, what with the TV in the way and all.”

“You’re, like, six feet.”

“It’s a big banner,” he grumbles, kneeling to let you swing your legs over his shoulders. “C’mon. Up.”

“Pfft, okay, old man.”

“Old–? Did you just–? That’s not even funny.”

Joel straightens up and you clutch your stomach with laughter.

“Will you just get on, baby?”

“Alright, alright. Stay still.”

You carefully mount his shoulders and his steady hands wrap around your knees, holding you in place. You wobble as he straightens his legs, lifting you so high your head brushes off the ceiling.

“Alright, be careful. No sudden movements.”

“Right here?” you ask, positioning it.

“Little to the left,” he groans, craning his neck to see. “Right there, that’s it.”

You push the pin through the banner and into the wall, releasing your breath once it’s secured. Joel slowly shuffles over to the other side where you line it up and do the same there.

Once all four corners are in place, he steps back, your legs still wrapped over his neck, and you both admire your teamwork. Joel’s thumbs are gently rubbing your thighs.

“Looks good, huh?”

“Mhm,” you reply. “Anything else to go up?”

“Nah. That’ll do.”

“You just keepin’ me up here for company, then?” you ask, leaning over to look at his face.

He looks back up at you and snorts. “Sorry, darlin’.”

Joel slowly makes over to the couch and bends a little, letting you dismount him to stand on the leather cushion. You’re only slightly taller than him, even standing on his furniture.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning from your lips down to your chest, curtained by his shirt, then over your stomach and down your legs. You know that look. You’ve seen it enough by now. It means…

“What’s next?” you innocently ask, and his eyes snap back up to your face.

Instead of answering, he steps forward, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you against him. His chin tilts up and you smile as you dip your head, connecting your lips.

You immediately deepen the kiss, feeling Joel’s hunger, and satiating your own, too. Your arms drape over his shoulders, relaxing as his form holds you, allowing you to fold into him.

His arms take a grip of you as he bends at the waist, lowering you both down onto the couch, laughing against each other’s lips. He pulls your thighs apart to lean his hips between yours.

His hands begin exploring your body, feeling from your hips over your breasts, making you moan into the kiss, and settle on the collar of his shirt, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders to remove it. In return, your fingers find the hem of his tee and pull it up over his midriff, hunger growing with each hot second that passes.

He leans back, giving you room to whip the shirt over his head, before his naked torso is back on you. His fingers then dance along the waistband of your shorts, untying them whilst his other hand plays at the hem of your vest.

Your shorts lying loose on your hips, he peels your top off of your body, and your shoulders lift to let it over your head. Joel takes the opportunity while your back is off the couch to unclip your bra, throwing the article to the floor.

“Nice,” you whisper into his mouth, and he chuckles in response.

His bare chest, decorated lightly with dark brown hair, is against yours; his lips move to your neck, biting another mark into the sensitive skin. Your head tilts back and you let out a moan, wanting more, but Joel’s taking his time. He’s making every second count.

You buck your hips against his and he lifts his head, giving you a knowing smirk and obeying your silent request. He begins making his way down, not forgetting to stop off by your tits and run his tongue over your nipples.

Your hands find home in his hair and your back arches some as he caresses the hardened buds, lips forming an O shape to suck on one while tending to the other with his thumb and index finger.

When you whine and your hips lift a second time, he moves across your tummy and toward your lowering shorts.

Eyes glazed with lust, you watch as he yanks them down, your panties the only thing separating you from him now. You hear your shorts hit the floor when he drops them, and places a wet kiss over your clothed cunt.

“Joel,” you moan, head falling back against the cushion. He’s driving you fucking insane.

“Mhm,” he murmurs, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want.”

You writhe under his touch; he’s so close, and yet so far.

“Your tongue,” you whimper.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over your moanin’, pretty girl.”

“Fuck– Need your fucking tongue,” you say as clearly as you can, still whining some.

“Good girl.”

He uncovers your soaking cunt and tears – literally, tears – your panties off of your body, balling them up in a tight fist. You gasp, both delighted and relieved, watching him discard the ripped fabric by his side.

Neither of you give a fuck. You’re desperate to feel each other, be on each other, be in each other.

He dips his head to your sex, and drags a long stripe up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue as he does. His tongue runs between your folds, swirling around, licking and threatening to dip further, before he lifts away again.

You let out a long moan, hands still tugging at his hair, attempting to push his head harder on your pussy. He doesn’t budge.

“Patience, baby,” he’s whispering, lowering his chin again to place his soft lips against your swollen clit.

He knows what he’s fucking doing – teasing you and making you wait like this. He wants it to build, really build, before you cum. He’s not cutting any corners.

His lips center over your bud, tongue tapping against it as he sucks, and brings his fingers up to sift through your folds. Your cunt aches for him; your hips find rhythm against his mouth as you fuck yourself off of him, and he lets you.

Feeling how wet you are, he plunges two long, curved fingers into your pussy, and your back, sticky with sweat, peels off of the couch for the second time.

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of his fingers inside you.

He hums against you, the vibrations of his deep voice pleasuring you more. He’s loving it as much as you are; tasting you, hearing you, breathing all of it in like it’s fresh air to his lungs.

Your breathing begins to falter, your chest rising and falling, your entire body ignited by his touch. You’re panting his name over and over, whining every time his fingers hit the spongey walls of your cunt.

He’s so fucking good at this.

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips, mouth planted firmly against your pussy. You widen your legs and he pushes down on your thighs, keeping them apart to make room for his jaw against your core, tongue licking between your folds again.

“Tongue,” you remind him.

“I hear ya,” he mumbles, and opens his lips.

His wet tongue slips into your cunt like it’s made to be there. You screw your eyes shut, pushing your upper back into the couch to lift your ass to him. His top lip cups around your clit as he eats you out, moans strumming against your sex, tongue exploring your wet hole.

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he removes his lips for two seconds to tell you to “Keep goin’, baby.”

“Doin’ so well for me,” he laps at your juices, “taste so fucking good, beautiful.”

He inserts his fingers again to bring you nearer your climax, and your mind starts to blank. You know what’s coming.

You can’t even form the shape of his name with your mouth as you draw nearer and nearer to your high; all you can focus on is the feeling of his hand fucking you, pumping in and out of your tight pussy, the way his tongue soaks your clit, the rutting of your hips all over his face.

It’s so fucking filthy, and so fucking good.

When Joel’s voice breaks through the fog in your brain, telling you to “Let go, baby, I’m here,” you obey him.

The edges of the room start to bleed white as your body lifts, fingers gripping onto Joel’s hair, hips digging further into the cushion.

It’s only ten o’clock; for all you know, Joel’s neighbors might be out in their backyard enjoying the warm night breeze. Do you care? Fuck no. You cry his name loud enough that the whole street might hear.

He coaxes you through it, drinking in your orgasm, moaning when your walls lock around his fingers and you cover his tongue in your sweet wet.

He slips his soaked fingers from your core and you whine at the loss; Joel makes up for it by gently massaging your aching clit as you come down, spreading your cum all over you.

“That’s it, baby, did so good. That felt good, huh?”

Still coming to, you don’t reply; you feel his weight back on top of yours, his safe arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“’s okay, darlin’,” he coos as your sight starts to return. He peppers your neck with gentle, wet kisses, bringing you back to earth.

Before even you realize it, your fingers are grasping at his jeans, blindly trying to undo the button and zipper. Joel laughs, lifting his hips to give you better access.

You giggle, loosening them and hauling them past his hips, and he sits up to drag them down his legs and shove them off near your shorts.

“What now, sweet girl?”

Your voice is low, serious. Barely above a whisper.

“Fuck me.”

He almost looks taken aback. As if he never thought he’d hear those words escape your lips. Like he’d been pushing you, further and further, expecting you to always hold back, always bounce back from the edge.

And here you are, clutching his arms and hauling him over with you.

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first.

You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second?

“I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

Joel’s eyes darken just as his huge cock bounces free from his underwear.

He’s watching your lips breathe out the words like it’s all he ever wanted to hear, all he’s thought about since that first night with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him so innocently.

Just waiting to be fucking ruined by him.

You slur the words again. “F-fuck me.”

“Yeah? ‘s that what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He’s kneeling over you now, helping you tug the underwear down his legs, precum-coated tip of his cock drawing circles on your stomach.

When he’s fully naked, he presses his body against yours, speaking to you between hot, wet kisses.

“You sure you can take it, pretty girl?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, lust taking over any remnants of your orgasm. Just fucking fuck me.

Joel’s hips raise, and he looks down to guide his cock to your hole. You bring your knees up, positioning them just under his biceps.

“Good,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re so wet that when he runs his shaft through your folds, slicking himself up, his tip kisses the entrance of your cunt, drawing a gasp from you and a growl from Joel. You’re desperate for him to just slide in, make himself at home where he belongs, between your hips.

And when he does, it’s fucking euphoric.

He’s big. You knew this already. But feeling him inside you is different.

He pushes in halfway first, letting you get used to him.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod; your voice catches in your throat as he falls out of you, just to thrust in again and let his cock dive through your soaked, swollen folds straight into your warm cunt.

He’s so big that when he bottoms out inside you for the first time, your mouth falls open wordlessly, and your brain shuts down for a few minutes. Nothing but the feeling of him slipping in and out of your cunt slowly, fucking you dumb.

When he knows you can take him, he picks up the pace, dragging his hips back and forth against yours, filling you up until his tip kisses the edge of your cervix, and pulling out until he’s between your folds again.

You’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re hanging off a cliff edge. The feeling of his hot skin under your arms is the only thing keeping you grounded right now; the pressure between your legs with each thrust of his huge cock threatening to pull you off the edge of the abyss.

When his voice breathes in your ear between his groans, you snap back to reality. Thighs burning, nails scratching, pussy throbbing reality.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me hear you, pretty girl, tell me how good it feels.”

He’s going faster still, balls smacking against your ass every time he bottoms out, sighs and whimpers passing your lips.

You whine his name, telling him, “Harder,” and he obliges, hips snapping ever stronger. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he thrusts, the pressure spreading spots of pure bliss across your vision.

You look down to where your bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. It turns you on even more.

“We look good, huh?” his voice lulls from above, and you look back up to find him watching you.

He dips his head and kisses you, and you start to near your second high.

“Joel,” you mewl, the feeling so good you can’t even form the words to tell him.

He knows, anyway.

“So good, baby,” he’s panting, sweaty forehead leaning against yours, “gonna cum all over me again?”

You nod, eyes screwing shut. He’s fucking you so good you’re barely remembering to breathe.

“Let go, darlin’, let me hear you,” he whispers, and you fold.

Joel bites into the crook of your neck and lets out a loud groan as he feels your pussy clamp around him. He fucks you through it, only slowing for a few seconds to let it wash over you, then picks the pace straight back up when you quieten and your breathing calms.

You’re so fucking overstimulated, but he’s not done, and you know what he wants. You want something, too. Maybe you two could work together.

“Joel?”

“Mhm?” He’s gone quiet, chasing his own high. You hear his breathing stammer when you say it.

“Want you to do it from behind.”

“Beh–” He’s almost gasping for breath, but when he understands what you mean, he wastes no time.

Wordlessly, he loosens his grip on you and pushes himself up, dick slipping out. You moan at the feeling of emptiness as it pulls out of you.

He gives you space to turn over, helping you move further up the couch with steady hands on your hips. When you settle, he lifts your ass up.

“Not gonna last long, baby,” he tells you, and you nod. Your right ear lies flat, sweat sticking you to the leather, hands splayed out above your head gripping the cushions.

You feel him line up again, his thighs against yours. Your breathing jilts as his head pushes in, followed by his shaft, filling you up, deeper and deeper until his balls kiss your clit.

You let a deep moan pass your lips. Joel groans, hips leaving your ass, only to smack into them again as he fucks you even deeper from this position.

He’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, cock spearing into you, tears swelling across your half-shut eyes. The feeling, the pain, too good to ask him to stop, but so overwhelming you can feel every thought, every instinct, every other feeling, leave your body with every thrust.

Joel’s all you know. He’s all you want to know.

Your legs start to give, and he places his rough hands on your waist to hold you up, pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace.

“Joel…” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m there, too.”

You feel his weight pushing on the back of your thighs and open your eyes to see him leaning over you, hands placed either side of your head. You lace your fingers with his and let him fuck you, totally mindless to everything around you except for the man at your ass, pummeling his dick inside you so deep your cunt is aching.

It pushes you over the edge.

Your walls squeeze his dick, threatening to pull him over with you. Your vision blanks for the third time tonight; what energy you have left is poured into the filthy cry which escapes your lips as Joel’s hard cock splits you open.

“So tight, baby, good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel begins to falter, his thrusts become sloppy, and he pushes your ass off of him so not to finish inside you. You kinda feel disappointed, wishing he’d just stay inside and fill you to the brim with his cum.

Joel gives himself a couple more strokes before you feel his seed coat your ass, warm, dripping down the small of your back and the underside of your thighs.

You moan at the feeling of him spilling all over you, the grunts he lets slip as his orgasm washes over him. You smile dumbly at the thought that you’re the one doing this to him; you’re the one covered in his cum. You’re his, even if it’s only in this moment.

He’s panting behind you. He almost collapses on top of your back, propping himself on his elbows to keep some of his weight off.

He gently leans down and nuzzles his nose against your ear, eliciting a quiet giggle from you.

“You okay?” he breathes.

You nod. “Better than okay.”

“You sore?”

“A little.”

“Baby…” he coos, and pushes himself up.

You sigh as his weight leaves you, and you hear his footsteps pad into the kitchen. You stay put, in part to keep from staining Joel’s couch with…well, Joel, but mostly because you’re too fucked-out to even move. Too fucked to feel your thighs, your back, never mind between your legs.

Joel returns with paper towel, and softly wipes from your back to your thighs, cleaning up his mess. He massages your muscles as he goes, and your eyes shut over with the sweet feeling.

When he’s done, he rolls you over and takes hold of your ankle, pulling you down the leather to his grasp, where he puts his tee over your head and helps you feed your arms through the sleeves. The Rangers logo sits just below your chest.

He pulls his boxers back on, before taking your outstretched arms and scooping you up in his. Your head falls limp in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

He carries you, completely dazed and fucked, out of the living room and upstairs. He makes a right at the top, down the dim hallway, past the same closet he went down on you in just two days ago, toward a door at the end. He knocks it open and takes you through.

Even in your half-sleeping state, you know exactly where you are. You’re in Joel’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here before, maybe only a couple times, when Sarah’s needed something or you’ve accompanied your dad to help repair something for Joel, but it feels different now.

It’s dark, the sun almost set on the other side of the house and the streetlights’ glow a burning orange right above Joel’s headboard.

He carries you over to the left side of the bed and lays you down in his soft sheets. He tucks you under the comforter and bends to place a long, tender kiss on top of your head.

You begin to swim in and out of sleep, waking to find him folding your clothes into a neat pile by the bedside, then again to watch him set a glass of water on the nightstand.

Your eyes are glued shut with exhaustion when you feel him lift the duvet behind you and slip in, taking your waist under his forearm and pulling you flush against his frame.

You listen to the faint sound of a cell phone dialing, and then hear his voice; soft, hushed, but still normal Joel.

“Hey, man. Yeah, no, everything’s fine. We were pretty late finishin’ up with these decorations, and then The Shining was on TV, so we stayed up to watch it. She’s pretty exhausted. I let her take Sarah’s room, I hope that’s okay?”

Your dad’s voice is faint down the line as you begin to drop off in Joel’s arms.

“Sure thing, thanks, Joel. You kick her out first thing, you hear? Don’t want her holdin’ you up for gettin’ Sarah.”

When you hear him slide his cell back onto his nightstand, you mumble something incoherent into his arm.

“What, darlin’?” Joel asks, head lifting to hear you better.

“I said, great welcome home party. Thanks.”

His lips press lightly on your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. Whatever it is he says, you don’t hear it, already long gone to a deep, comfortable sleep.

----------

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[xzaddyzanakinx]

Cottage in the Woods

Stepbro!Anakin Skywalker x Female reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: sexual content, PiV (unprotected), oral, alcohol (no one is drunk), stepcest

Info: Established relationship, mechanic Anakin, college student reader, Anakin does have his mechnahand but it’s not actually mentioned

Anakin stirred awake slowly, his eyes still half-closed as he snuggled closer to you. His hand gently massaged your lower back, and a small smirk formed on his lips.

"Morning, Darlin’." He murmured, his voice deepening with sleepiness. "How's my favorite little princess feelin'?"

He yawned widely, exposing his perfect white teeth before sitting up straight, pulling the covers over both of you.

“M’feeling perfect,” You said as you breathed out happily.

Anakin chuckled, reaching over to grab his phone from the nightstand. He checked the clock before looking back at you.

"Well, we've got plenty of time to make sure you stay that way." He stood up, stretching his arms above his head, showing off his toned abs and muscular arms.

"Get dressed, dollface, it's Saturday morning, and I swear I'm takin' you somewhere special today."

He made a show of rummaging through his clothes on the floor, finding his favorite pair of jeans and a baggy T-shirt, which he threw carelessly over his head.

“You’re taking me somewhere?” You asked, immediately perking you up from your formerly subdued state.

Anakin nodded, grabbing his shoes from the floor and putting them on. "Yeah, you deserve a little treat don’t you think?"

"Get dressed, I'll be back in a sec," he said, heading towards the bathroom.

As he left, Anakin's steps were lighter than usual, almost bouncy, as if he couldn't wait to surprise you.

You changed quickly. Putting on baggy jeans and a black crop top with the oversized black zip-up jacket stolen from Anakin ages ago. You were pulling on sneakers just as Anakin returned from the bathroom.

His tousled hair wet and messy. He wore a pair of black jeans that accentuated his toned legs and a plain black T-shirt that clung to his muscular torso.

"You look fuckin' adorable," he complimented, walking over to you and running his fingers through your hair before kissing your forehead lightly. "Let's go."

He held out his hand for you to take, and together, you left your room, heads bent in conversation as you made your way downstairs.

Anakin chuckled softly, opening the passenger door of his car for you before climbing into the driver's seat. Slamming the door shut behind him, he started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

"Well," he began, turning the corner onto their sleepy suburban street. "We're heading about an hour away from here."

His eyes lit up with excitement as he glanced sideways at you, waiting for your reaction.

“An hour away?” You asked confusedly, wondering what the hell he had planned.

Anakin grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just trust me, alright? It'll be worth the drive."

You sighed, teasingly pretending to be disappointed.

As they drove, he began to hum a familiar tune, and you noticed the car's air freshener had changed from its usual generic scent to the sweet fragrance of lavender.

You spent the rest of the drive smushed against the center console to hold his hand and feel his warmth. Playing music low with the intent of just having background noise while you talked and caught up on things.

Anakin's hand squeezed yours back, returning the comfort with equal intensity. "Sweet girl," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.

"So, how was work yesterday?" He changed the subject, hoping to distract himself from the growing anticipation and an anxiety building inside him with each mile marker that passed.

“The worst.” You sighed. “I would rather sprint up Mount Everest than serve that large of a party again.”

You told him the drama and tidbits of conversation picked up from that large group of 25 people. The gossip was the only redeeming factor of waitressing that large of a group. It was hell while you worked it with one other waitress, but damn what an interesting conversation you had with her by the dumpster when you both took a smoke break later that night.

Anakin chuckled, his eyes never leaving the road. "That's what you signed up for, ain't it?" He teased, reaching over to give your leg a light squeeze.

“Just cause I signed up for it, doesn’t mean I can’t whine and complain about it occasionally.” You teasingly pouted, but shook your head and kissed his cheek in agreement after he made a quick redemptive comment about your shared luck in having each other to confide in.

"So, how's my little bookworm doing? Everything alright in school darlin’, any trouble with your classes?"

You shared some interesting highlights of the past week’s classes and lectures. Watching Anakin’s facial expressions while you spoke was just as entertaining as the stories you were telling him. The animated way he responded to practically everything you said was heart warming; he gave you that ‘only girl in the world’ feeling that you only ever heard of in books.

As he drove, the landscape outside changed from suburban neighborhoods to rolling hills dotted with trees and colorful wildflowers, signaling your departure from the city limits.

“What about you Ani?” You asked, turning in your seat alittle while you held his large hand in your two smaller ones, tracing his knuckles with your thumbs.

“How’s everything at the mechanic’s shop?” You continued. “are you still thinking about applying for that supervisor’s position?”

You were of course referring to his job as a mechanic, he’d used his two year degree in engineering to get him started in his career. His ultimate goal being owning a garage of his own someday.

Anakin smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Well, I got offered the supervisor's position actually."

"I accepted," he added quickly, as if anticipating your reaction. "It starts next month. More responsibility, more money, and more freedom to do what I love most—fixing cars."

He glanced at you briefly before returning his focus back on the road. The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky, casting warm rays through the windshield that danced across his features, highlighting his natural beauty.

“No way really?” You squealed out of excitement for him, dropping his hand to clap almost involuntarily. “oh Ani! I’m so proud of you!”

You picked up his hand again and laced your fingers with his, leaning across the console to lovingly place a hot, wet kiss on the softness of his neck.

Anakin's hand tightened around yours, squeezing gently in response to your excitement. "Thanks, dollface," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

"You know you're the reason I even accepted it, right?" He teased, reaching over to ruffle your hair playfully. "Without you, I wouldn't have found the motivation."

As he drove further into the countryside, dense forests stretched as far as the eye could see. Finally, your destination came into view—a small cottage nestled amongst the trees, surrounded by a tranquil lake and lush greenery.

“Ani you’re so sappy.” You teased, secretly extremely pleased that he would admit such a vulnerable thing.

“What are we doing here?” You asked in confusion. “it’s so pretty…” Your words trailed off.

Anakin parked the car and turned off the engine, grabbing your bag from the back seat.

"Patience, my love," he said, his voice laced with excitement. Opening the door, he helped you out of the car and led you towards the front door.

"Just wait til you see inside," he teased, unlocking the heavy wooden door and ushering you in.

Inside was a cozy interior, filled with vintage furniture and decorations. A fireplace sat unlit in the living area, but you could just picture it casting warm light across the hardwood floors and exposed wooden beams.

You looked up, seeing a loft with a beautiful iron spiral staircase leading up to it. You assumed that it was a bedroom or perhaps a small lounge room.

“Aw it’s so cute…” You said, doing a slow 360 to really take in your surroundings.

“Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing here now?” You turned to ask Anakin, tucking yourself against his chest as he chuckled.

Anakin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "I thought we deserved a little something—just us," he said, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"We'll explore the place later, but for now, I have something else planned."

With that cryptic statement, he led you to the living area, where the coffee table was set up with a bottle of champagne chilling on ice and two beautiful 70’s style crystal wine glasses. There was a small wooden box beside it the spread, adorned with a bow.

“What’s this?” You asked, head on a swivel as you looked curiously over at Anakin and back at the box. He pulled you down onto the couch with him, a rumble of amusement coming from his chest. Before he poured you both a glass of champagne.

He reached over to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles on your cheekbone. Watching how your eyes looked over that small box, how your fingers twitched with the impatient need to open it up. He knew you were horrible with waiting, he knew it was practically torture for you. His next statement only further confirmed that for you.

"Open it when we're finished with our drinks, alright?" he requested, raising his glass in to his lips.

You grinned at having been caught ogling over that tiny surprise. You cleared your throat before taking a sip of the bubbly drink. It was light and crisp, perfect for the setting.

You chatted, talking about how quaint the cottage was. He told you about the lake you’d seen as you drove in, how it was only a short walk away. How he wanted to take advantage of the secluded area to go skinny dip that night.

“It’s been a real long time since we’ve done that.” You giggled, remembering the last time you’d went skinny dipping. That was the night you’d shared your first acts of intimacy beyond making out with each other.

Anakin laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I know, I know," he teased, taking another sip of his champagne. "But this time, we'll make it special. I’ll get to take my time with you."

He said, remembering how rushed he’d been. How terrified of getting caught you were. How you both giggled and couldn’t stop smiling. How you blushed anytime you saw him for the next week after… and how that was the night that officially sealed your fate. After that, things were never the same again; you crossed a line that couldn’t be erased, and neither of you cared in the slightest. You were just happy you’d finally admitted the love you shared for each other.

You teased each other, joking around and bantering like it was second nature. It practically was, you’d always been attached at the hip and it only got more intense after deciding to say ‘fuck it’ and reject the title of step-siblings and mold yourselves into something romantic, into a real relationship.

Occasionally you’d glance at the small present box, fingers twitching in anticipation. Your impatience was getting the best of you and Anakin knew it.

“Anakin please!” You complained. “you’re killin’ me. I gotta know what’s in there.”

Anakin chuckled, setting his glass down and taking yours from your hands as well.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, standing up to retrieve the box. "But remember your manners, princess."

He leaned toward the table, then placed the box in your palm. Smiling as he saw you testing the weight of the box.

"Go ahead, open it slowly, alright?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was just a little tease of his. Finally, you reached out tentatively, steady hands brushing against the loose bow on the box. As you carefully opened it, a wave of anxiety hit your chest.

“Anakin… w-what?” You asked in confusion. “A key?”

You looked up at him, taking in his wide grin and devilish glint in his icey blue eyes.

“Wait… wait no way Ani.” You gasped standing up. “is this? Did you? Is this place ours?” You asked with your voice cracking in surprise as emotion squeezed at your throat.

Anakin nodded, standing up and wrapping his arms around you. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered.

"Yeah, baby girl, it's ours. I’ve had this place in the works for a while. I got it ready as soon as I could."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "I want us to start fresh, just the two of us. No more pretending, no more secrets. From now on, we're together for real."

He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. When you finally broke apart, there was a newfound depth in his gaze, a vulnerability that matched yours.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I know our love needs space to grow without the constant pressure of keeping things hidden for the sake of others. I can’t hide you anymore.” He said with a shaky breath.

Anakin's eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you close as he spoke.

“The dates where I can’t hold your hand or kiss you even though you look so pretty, so beautiful, so kissable, so deserving of proper attention; it’s torture. Having you so close but not being able to give you the love and affection you deserve, it’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes held an intense piercing gaze into your own.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against yours in another passionate kiss, one filled with need and desire. When they finally broke apart, he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes.

"I know marriage isn’t an option for us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together." he murmured, running his fingers through your hair. "Just us. No more lies, no more secrets. Just us living our lives together, just like we always wanted."

"I love you," he said softly, his voice softer, smooth with honeyed promises. "I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to prove that, not when I can prove it to you everyday on my own."

“Here, we’re away from everything. An hour from our hometown, close enough to go be with friends and family but far enough that we won’t have to hide. You’re closer to your college now, it’s only 40 minutes to the garage for me. It’s perfect.” He concluded his little speech with a tug at your waist to bring you closer so that he could bury his face in your neck and breathe in the scent of you.

“Anakin…” You sniffled, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks. “I love you. I love you, yes. I- I want this. More than anything.”

Anakin's heart skipped a beat as he felt your body tremble against his, your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours, seeking any trace of doubt or hesitation.

"Really?" he asked, his voice cracking with the weight of your response. "You mean it? You really want this?"

He didn't wait for an answer, instead, lifting you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist so that your legs were locked around his torso. As he carried you towards the bedroom, his long legged stride fueled by desire and need.

He panted, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. "Gods above, I fucking love you."

You sniffled, attacking his neck and throat with hot open mouthed kisses while he pushed the door open with his foot. Giving you a fraction of a second to see that he’d furnished the room and made the bed before he laid you softly onto the new comforter.

Anakin followed suit, falling onto the bed beside you, bodies pressed against each other. He broke the kiss long enough to crawl down your body, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at your cleavage to slip your shirt off your torso.

"Tell me," he murmured against your skin, his breath tickling the hills of your breast when he’d freed you from the confines of your bra.

His tongue flicking your nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, eliciting a moan from the both of you. "Tell me you mean it."

You squirmed beneath him, arching your back, begging for more of his attention. "I mean it. I want this new life with you."

“Then let’s break in the new bed the way it’s meant to be huh?” He teased in a low voice, his hot breath fanning over your throat as he forced you to wait in between each slow and sensual tongue-filled love bite.

Anakin chuckled against your sensitive skin as he licked down your sternum and up to each hardened peak of your tits. Releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He trailed kisses down your stomach before reaching your pants and unbuttoning them slowly, exposing your lacy black panties.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, his hands hooking into your waistband and lowering your pants and underwear simultaneously. His face hovered over your exposed pussy, his breath heating up your moist folds.

Your body twitched, begging for his touch, but he teased you mercilessly, trailing his tongue around the edge of your entrance before finally diving inside, flicking your clit with his tongue while his fingers teased your tight hole.

Ohhh…” You breathed out in bliss, keeping your hips as still as possible. Knowing he preferred for you to trust him to make you cum. He was always telling you that eating pussy is a privilege and that he’s going to make sure he earns it everytime. “Mmm Anakin, that’s s-so good.”

Anakin groaned, his tongue delving deeper into your wetness, seeking out every hidden crevice of your body. His hand reached between your legs, massaging your sensitive spot before his thumb pulled just above your clit, exposing it for the flat of his tongue to lave. Passing back and forth over it slowly, increasing the pressure until you were on the brink of orgasm.

His tongue slowed down, flicking your sensitive folds before retreating to your leaking hole, teasingly circling it before dipping inside, probing and stretching you with the delicate strokes of his tongue.

With each moan and whimper that escaped your lips, he knew he was getting closer to claiming what was rightfully his—your cum.

“Anakin,” you moaned in a way that felt like it originated from your soul. Anakin’s eyes fluttering as he hummed in response to your pleasured noises.

“Faster please I’m so close.” You whined, bucking your hips.

He didn’t verbally respond, he just smacked your thigh to make you stop wriggling and shook his head. He wasn’t planning on speeding up.

No- not at all.

He slurped at your clit louder than necessary before sucking it into his mouth to provide suctioned pressure as he continued to massage the sensitive nub with the flat of his tongue. His fingers keeping their steady and firm snail’s pace to rub circles into your spongy front wall.

It was a combination of all of it, the added sensuality of the act and the lewd noises that tipped you over the edge. He coaxed the bubbling orgasm into a rolling boil that had your back arching and your juices coating his face.

Anakin groaned, his own cock throbbing against the mattress. Savoring the taste of you on his lips and tongue. After a few moments of post-orgasmic bliss, he finally pulled away, his face messy and his eyes glazed over.

He stood up straight again, towering over you with an expression of adoration, worship. Like he’d discovered a goddess fallen from the heavens sent just for him.

"Feel good huh baby?" he panted, his voice hoarse from his efforts. "Never seen you so speechless."

His eyes gleamed with power and satisfaction in equal parts.

He brought his palm to his mouth while tugging his boxers down, wiping the mixture of salvia and slick from his skin. Using the fluids to lube up his hard, veiny cock.

He nudged his cockhead against your wet hole, testing its readiness and indulging in the satisfying warmth against his sensitive tip.

“Just relax doll, I’ve got you.” He murmured, resting his weight above you on his forearms that he slid beneath your upper back, one large palm cradled your skull while the other gently squeezed your shoulder in a possessive grip.

Anakin lined up his swollen member at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his cock as it pushed barely past your sensitive folds. He waited for your body to adjust to him, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing just in just enough to make you writhe in anticipation.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he groaned, unable to control himself any longer. With a single thrust, he plunged into you, filling every inch of your tightness. You let out a sharp yelp of pleasure mixed with pain that he loved hearing.

“Relax. Open up f’me.” He soothed with loving kisses, moans swallowed by his eager mouth. He pushed past your lips gently trading the flavors of your cum with that of your tongue.

“Gonna make love to you right.” He promised in the most seductive tone he could muster. “slow and deep.”

“Gods Anakin…” You whispered, bringing your knees up higher and spreading your legs a bit further to accommodate him properly and get comfortable with the feeling of being so full.

“Yes.” You whined, mouth hanging open in a silent moan as you felt every ridge, throb and twitch of his heavy cock. “you’re so deep Ani.”

Anakin grabbed your legs, holding them in place for you as he began to move in and out of you slowly, savoring the sound of your moans escaping your throat. Each thrust was deliberate and powerful, filling every crevice of your pussy with his length.

"Pretty girl," he groaned. "Y’keep squeezing me so tight. Let go for me doll, you can do it."

Catching his breath between each thrust, he continued to praise your body, telling you how much he loved feeling connected to you in this way.

“That’s my girl, just like that.” He nodded, looking down at you with pride written in the corners of his crooked smile. “Perfect. Good job darlin’ there we go.”

“M’gonna… gonna cum.” You mumbled against his lips, feeling the vibration of his deep groan as his response.

“Yeah you are, aren’t you babydoll?” He growled, eyes burning your blissful face into his memory for ever. “Almost there darlin’ I can feel it coming.”

“Uh huh.” You nodded in agreement, stomach clenching as the tightly wound coil finally burst and allowed your body to feel a heavenly warmth as your flesh pricked with goosebumps.

Anakin groaned, his thrusts becoming more sloppy as he felt your climax flood out around him.

"Oh god, I’m right there.” He mumbled, his sweaty forehead resting on yours, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

With one final stroke, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, holding you tight as his cock throbbed violently within your depths. A hot, thick stream of cum shot out of him, painting your insides with his seed. It was like fireworks as your bodies shook with shared ecstasy. His orgasm lasted long enough for him to pull out slightly, then plunging back in again, claiming every inch of you before collapsing on top of you, spent but satisfied.

“Mmmm Anakin.” You moaned softly. “Gods, I think you’ve ruined me.” You laughed quietly, a tear or two escaping your eyes from the intensity.

Anakin chuckled, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

"That's what I aim for," he panted, his voice raspy. "Never gonna let you forget how good it feels to be mine."

He rolled over onto his side, pulling you close against him, spooning your body against his, his arm wrapping around your waist protectively. "Rest now doll. You’ll need it.”

“I’ve got you all alone for the first time in a while. You’re not leaving this bed till I’ve made sure my little princess has been fucked stupid." he whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against your temple in a gentle kiss.

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch @cherrylooney @star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit?corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @slut-4-ani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Harvest Moon

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 4: Sex Pollen

Summary: Being Khonshu's avatar has some... unexpected effects.

A/N: I'm so sorry. Set before Steven knows about Marc.

Warnings: sex pollen - so dubcon (both sides are effected, Steven more than reader and both had a crush on the other before they were infected), love bites, cum eating, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, cuming in troursers, so much cuuuuummmm, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4073

Steven couldn’t concentrate. 

It was strange, a fidget just below his skin. Like every muscle was contracting and relaxing at random intervals.

He took off his reading glasses and sighed, rubbing his eyes to try to shift whatever was going on. Maybe he was tired. 

Which didn’t make much sense. He was always tired. 

Perhaps this was the accumulation of trying to survive on three hours of sleep or less every day for most of his adult life. 

He tried again to focus on the book in front of him, leaning an elbow on his desk. The words twitched on the page, flickered as if they were going to jump up and run off the paper at any moment. 

The strange thing was, he didn’t feel tired. Quite the opposite in fact. He was full of energy, jittery as if he’d just downed five coffees made with Red Bull instead of water and a handful of Pro Plus. (Though, he usually steered clear of coffee - for some reason it made him sleepy.) 

Still, the fidgety, restless energy seemed to only build. Grow deep in the pit of his belly and squirm around like he’d swallowed live eels that were now making a home in his large intestine. 

It almost burned, the blood in his veins boiling from the inside. He stood up, agitated and restless. Maybe, maybe he just needed to go for a walk. Use up some anxious energy, yeah, that was it. 

Steven glanced at his phone, it was 19:54, not late. He could maybe walk to the corner shop and back. The fresh air would help. Surely that would put him right. 

He stood, fighting the urge to shake his muscles, and put on his trainers. 

Yeah, go out, go to the shop, come back, he’d feel better. He’d feel so much better. 

“I’ll be back in a sec' Gus.” He gave the goldfish a little wave as he put on his jacket and checked that he had his keys. 

That restless energy, the burn of it seemed to increase, grow even as he moved. Buzzed behind his eyes. 

Slowly, Marc was pulled forward, woken from deep down. He watched Steven move from the reflection in the fish tank, confused for a moment until… he recognised that energy, those sensations that were running along their nerves. 

Panic gripped hold of him as he tried to force his way to the front, to push Steven back. 

But… nothing. 

He swore and tried again, not caring if Steven heard him, he needed to take control, get the body to the storage locker, steal the door and take those medical-grade tranquillisers he hid under the mattress. 

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have lost track of the days so badly? 

He pushed forward again, trying to seize control. But it was hopeless like he was separated by a thick layer of glass. 

This was bad, this was bad, this was bad, this was so very, very bad. 

There was a small breeze, cool air that made Steven turn, look over his shoulder and glance about the flat for a window he had left open. Nothing. 

Marc swore loudly. This was Khonshu’s doing. It had to be. 

The god had been uncharacteristically silent the last few days, and quiet the previous couple of weeks. Luring Marc into a false sense of security and letting him give more and more time up to Steven. 

Poor Steven, who had no idea what he was in store for. 

The first time it had happened Marc had thought he was going to die. The way his heart beat, his blood burned, every single muscle crying out at once. He’d had enough panic attacks in his life to know that this certainly wasn’t one, and for a brief moment, he thought that he had been poisoned. 

It wasn’t until Khonshu appeared and explained. The phase of the moon at that time of the lunar year. It had been a cause of celebration, festivals honouring new life. And due to Marc’s role as an avatar, he was ‘gifted’ with the effects. 

A gift he would very much like to return and never see again. 

Khonshu had been… displeased by Marc’s rejection, by his unwillingness to observe the traditions of the old ways. But had stayed quiet when Marc sealed himself away and knocked himself out.

Marc had wrongly assumed that the moon god had got over it. Realised that there was no way his avatar would take part. 

He didn’t think he would use Steven instead. 

Marc had to take control, had to stop him from going outside, from running into other people and experiencing the effects. He tried to push forward again to no avail as Steven stepped out of the flat, his mind buzzing. 

Steven blinked heavily, trying to shift the little spots of light that had started to dance just at the very corners of his vision. He fumbled with his keys for a second, sweat beading on his forehead. When had the corridor become so hot? He pulled at his collar, trying to cool himself. 

There was a warmth growing in his lower stomach, and heavy an uncomfortable weight, like lead straining at his muscles. He needed… something. There was an odd carving at the back of his throat, a constriction of his windpipe that seemed to pull at-

“Hi Steven.”

He turned suddenly, his body moving well before his mind had even caught up. 

You smiled at him from the other side of the corridor as you stood outside your flat, your bag pulled over your shoulder, keys in hand.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no. Marc screamed inside the headspace. Not you, not you, anyone but you. 

You had moved in a little over three months ago. Had smiled and chatted briefly with Steven when you both ran into each other in the lift. 

It was only four weeks ago when Steven had found himself outside in the streets of London late at night (sleepwalking again). He had managed to get back to the flat with the help of city mapper and it was only when he was outside the block of flats that he realised he didn’t have his keys. 

After a few nervous minutes, he had pressed your buzzer with shaking hands and stumbled out an apology. To his absolute shock and dizzying relief, you can come down to let him in with a kind smile. You had even invited him into your own home while he waited for the 24 locksmith to arrive. Served him cups of tea and vegan shortbread biscuits while you both talked. 

Steven had been quietly remorseful when the locksmith finally arrived. 

As he was leaving you had invited him to a live music event you were going to at the Fox and Firkin, but sadly Steven had been working that weekend. 

He had been steadily working up the courage to ask you out, something casual. Relaxed. Informal. So you both could talk and maybe he would get a chance to judge your interest on a proper date. But the longer he left it, the more awkward it seemed. The more nights he spent in the shower fisting his palm and moaning your name behind his hand. 

Marc pressed harder against the mental block, swearing under his breath as he fought for control. 

Steven’s pulse quickened, heat prickling all over his skin as blood rushed downwards. He swallowed, the embarrassment that he would normally experience completely swept away by a deep mind-numbing ache. “Hi.” He whispered. 

You frown a little. He looked like he was in a daze, his skin flushed and pupils wide. “You okay?” 

The softness in your voice, the genuine concern for him made Steven snap. A small growl escaped his chest. It was like all his senses had heightened and pinpointed, narrowed. He needed you. 

“Ste-”

He moves faster than you thought possible, surging forward and pinning you to the wall with a bruising strength that knocks the air from your lungs. You don’t even have time to gasp before his lips are on yours, his hands on your waist as he pushes his thigh between your legs.

You murmur his name into his mouth, your surprise cut off by the glide of his tongue and how his body presses into yours. 

Marc smacks against the barrier fruitlessly, unable to do much more than watch as Steven’s sensations begin to bleed into his own muscles. 

Steven’s skin is feverish, heat rolling off him in waves as he grinds against you. The hard outline of his cock presses against your stomach, you can almost feel his rapid heartbeat through the denim of his jeans. 

Instinctively you react to him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and neck as you kiss him back and slide your tongue against his as he kisses you greedily. For a second you’re sure you're dreaming. It’s the only possible explanation. There’s no way that your lovely, and seemingly oblivious to your every attempt at flirting, neighbour would suddenly jump you on a Thursday night and snog the life out of you.  

You pull at his hair, lightly at first, but increasing the pressure when that does nothing. You barely manage to yank his head back an inch before his lips are on yours again, all tongue and teeth as he nips a trail down to your jaw and sucks a messy bruise just below your ear. 

Somehow you manage to hold down your whimpered moan and speak, “Steven, what’s… I mean-oh shit-” You cut yourself off, biting down on your lip as his hand slide up to squeeze your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardening nipple. 

There’s a faint ghost of a breeze, though from where you’re not sure. For a second a small wave of dizziness and heat run across your skin. 

“Steven,” you try again even though you're pressing up against his every touch eagerly. “What’s going on?”

He groans against your neck. “I’m-I’m so sorry, I don’t know, I can’t, I need you so badly, I just,” he tries to halt his movements, to take his hands off your body, but the second he’s a fraction of a millimetre away from you an intense pain drills along his spine. He whimpers and presses closer, continuing to rub his heavy cock against your thigh. 

“Did you take something?” You gasp, breathless as you try (and fail) to not grind your hips in time with his. It’s the only explanation, right? Though if there was a drug that made someone intensely horny you were sure you’d have heard about it by now. 

He shakes his head, his mouth too preoccupied with sicking more love bites into your neck to speak. 

“Do you think someone could have drugged you?” 

Steven mutters something intelligible as he sinks his teeth into your skin and a strangled moan escapes your lips. This wasn’t right, none of this way right. Heat, stronger than anything you’d ever experienced before, began to burn in your lower belly. You had a crush on him, sure. You’d happily go on a date with him and be down for more after but this… You’d never been so desperate to fuck someone in your entire life. 

It was like you were starting to lose the ability to think clearly, and you were worryingly sure that if you let this go on much longer you wouldn’t have any issue with riding Steven right there in the middle of the hallway. 

“Steven,” you yanked his head back again by his hair, using an amount of force that would have normally been painful. 

Instead, Steven groaned, closing his eyes as he arched back exposing the taunt lines of his neck for you. 

“Love, please.” He whispered, though what he was begging for exactly, neither of you were sure. 

“Let’s go inside.” You muttered, rushing your words together in an effort to hold yourself together for a little while longer. 

You turn, just managing to struggle out of Steven’s grip to put your keys in the lock and open your front door. 

Steven moans as you move, but quickly goes back to grinding against you. Pressing himself up against the swell of your ass and sighing as he kisses your neck. 

You practically fall inside from Steven’s weight pushing against your back. But his strong hands on your hips keep you upright. His fingers slip under your top, greedily searching for your soft skin as you manage to close the door before he’s on top of you again.

He pushes you against the door, your chest pressed up against the wood as he pinches your nipples through the lace of your bra. He growls as you moan and arch back into him, your nails digging into the wood grain. 

He ruts against your ass, rubbing his clothed erection against your soft flesh with a burning vigour. The weeping head of his cock is soaking into his boxers, but he can’t stop himself, can’t break away for a single moment, can’t spare the few seconds it would take to undress. 

His little gasps and whimpers of air as he picks up his pace sends a flood of heat to your core and you gasp as he bites down on your neck hard. His left hand continues to squeeze your breast while his right snakes down and pushes under your leggings and underwear. 

There is the tiniest voice in the back of your head, a worry that you would normally have that things are going too fast, but Steven’s moans in your ears, the feeling of his hands on you drowns everything out. 

He presses his forefinger against your clit and moans at the wetness that he finds between your legs. Quickly, he circles your bundle of nerves over and over in time with the manic grind of his hips. 

His breathing stutters. Just being pressed up against you like this is too good, the burning along his veins turning into molten lava as he continues to buck like his life depended on it. 

The coil in his stomach starts to tighten uncontrollably, pressure at the base of his spine exploding outwards and-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He moans loudly as he cums in his trousers, the pleasure whiting out all other thoughts as his hips falter. 

You slow your movements down, coming to a stop as Steven breaths hard against your back. You open your mouth to speak, to ask him if he feels better. But you never get the chance. 

In a blur he’s spinning you around, kissing your mouth harshly enough to knock your head back against the door with a thud. You barely register that despite obviously cumming, (the wetness on his jeans that press into you) he’s still rock hard and sweaty. His pulse thumps under your hands, so fast that you can barely distinguish each beat. 

He pulls you to the ground, practically lifting you off your feet, and tearing off your clothes as if they had personally offended him. You try to undress him, barely getting his jacket off his shoulders and not even starting on his t-shirt before he’s kissing down your body and shoving his face into your core. 

You gasp as he places a long flat lick through your folds, groaning at the taste and grinding his cock against the carpet. 

“Steven-”

“Need to make you cum, please,” his voice is gravelly and wrecked, burnt out and desperate but he doesn’t stop the movement of his tongue, ending the lick by sucking at your clit and quickly slipping two fingers inside you. 

He curls them perfectly, looking up at you with dark, pleading eyes. Pleasure sparks along your nerves as he fucks you hard with his fingers, watching your every reaction as he keeps his lips sucking firmly against your clit. 

You moan loudly, enough that you’re probably going to get a noise complaint, and screw up your eyes, your back arching off the carpet. 

The stretch of his thick fingers makes you whine as they work you open, finding every spot to make you fall apart as quickly as possible.

You grab hold of Steven’s hair with one hand, pressing him firmly against you and another low growl erupts from his chest as he pulls your left thigh over his shoulder and picks up the pace. 

His tongue and fingers move in a hypnotic tandem, dragging you closer and closer to the edge with a dizzying speed. Your toes curl, your breath catching in your throat and all you can do is just feel that mind-numbing pleasure he is pulling you towards.

His name falls out of your mouth in a repeated jumble as you move against him thoughtlessly, your hips chasing every touch. 

Steven moans against you, flicking your clit with the very tip of his tongue before sucking on it ruthlessly and stars explode behind your eyes.

You cum against him with a sob as your strength rushes out of you like a dam has been broken, your muscles clenching around him in utter bliss. 

But all too quickly for your liking his pulling his fingers out of you and sitting up. You’re barely back to thinking straight as you lean up on your elbows, about to question him when you stop in your tracks, your mouth hanging open.

Steven groans as he shoves his fingers into his mouth, lapping up your creamy release. He pushes at his aching cock with the heel of his free hand, his hips jerking up into the touch. He looks like a god, skin flushed and sweaty, his hair dishevelled and sticking out at windswept angles. Your cum all over the bottom half of his face. 

He gives you a dark look, his eyes almost blind with lust as he struggles to undo his fly without taking his fingers out of his mouth. 

You lean up and quickly help him, marvelling at the strength in his thick thighs as he kicks them free of his jeans and boxers. 

Your mouth goes dry and you swallow at the sight of him, the tip flushed and needy. Thick and long and you pause. Fuck. He was big, really big. Clarity seems to flash in your mind for the first time since you both went into your flat. How the hell were you going to fit that inside you?

Steven growls, kisses your neck, scraping his teeth over your pulse point and already edging forward as you lift up his t-shirt over his head. 

Being away from you for a second hurts. Makes his stomach twist and nerves scream. His dick twitches impatiently, already smearing precum (and his release from before) all over your thighs as he pushes himself between your legs. 

“Steven,” you start to say. The needy whine in your voice hampering your words. 

“Yes love?” He forces you back down and takes himself in hand. 

“I just, I’m-oh!” 

He’s not even thinking about his actions before he’s already sheathing himself inside your tight, wet heat. 

You gasp loudly, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he pushes impossibly deep, making you fuller than you have ever been and still he’s pressing deeper. 

You whine out his name in a sob as he bucks against you, pulling out a little before he pushes further in, stretching you wide. 

He swears under his breath, his eyes closed, brows furrowed together as he pulls out a centimetre before sinking deeper. Out, in, out, in, out, in, until finally he bottoms out. And it's heaven.

Steven doesn’t even give you a second to adjust to his size before he’s fucking you hard, bucking his hips like he wants to completely destroy you. Needs you to shatter under him. 

You’re so full you can practically feel him in your throat, the stretch so deep that it’s like he’s pushed all your internal organs higher, limiting your lung space and not letting you take a full breath. 

He grabs hold of the backs of your thighs, snarling as he forces them towards your chest, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he positions you into a mating press. His hips never falter, continuing their deep, hard onslaught that hits at a part of you you didn’t know existed. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure up your spine, so perfect that it’s almost inhuman. Your slick coats his cock, smearing on his thighs as he fucks you within an inch of your life. 

“Steven,” you whine, your eyes rolling back as your second orgasm hurtles towards you. 

“Fuck, love,” he growls in your ear, biting at your neck. “So wet for me, so needy, I’m gonna break you, I’m gonna make you all mine.”

You moan loudly. Pleasure beginning to drown out every thought. His public bone grinds against your clit, making you want to scream.

“You know how many times I’ve cum thinking about you and what you’d taste like?” He growls as he snaps his hips in a relentless rhythm. “So fucking better than anything I could imagine.” 

You grab hold of him, your muscles tightening as his words send you over the edge. You cum hard, crying out as he ruts into you through it. 

He snarls as he cums, but his hips don’t stop as he pumps load after load of his spend into you and fucks it deeper until you're completely full. 

Your breathing starts to recover momentarily, but Steven is still rock hard and hitting that devastating spot inside of you so perfectly that it makes your head spin. 

Pleasure starts to creep back into your stomach and you whine, sobbing at the overstimulation. 

“Love, I’m so sorry,” he bites his lip, trying to slow his hips to no avail. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“It’s okay,” you manage to stammer out as his thrusts punch the air from your lungs. “Don’t stop.” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. Too much, but you needed more. The idea of him stopping now boarding on painful. 

“Won’t stop, promise.” He moans against your lips, pushing you closer to the edge again. “Fuck!” He pulls out quickly and you whine. 

But you're barely given a second to lament the loss before Steven’s pulling you up with him. Your limbs are like jelly and you’re thankful for his surprising strength as he turns you around. 

You expect him to enter you doggy style but instead, he kneels down, his hands on your thighs and under your knees, and lowers you onto his cock with a dizzying speed. Your moan catches in your throat as he fills you. The stretch of this angle is intense as the head of his cock presses perfectly against that sweet spot inside. 

Steven groans as your walls clench around him, your own slick mixing with his cum to let him glide in. 

He places your legs outside of his and grabs hold of your breast with his right hand, kneading and squeezing it in time with his deep thrusts as his left toys and circles your clit. 

He bounces you up and down on his cock as he mouths at your neck, adding to the love bites from before, his chest pressed flush to your back. 

“S-Steven,” you barely get the word out, your nerves flayed raw with pleasure as he keeps pushing you higher and higher. You’re weak, light-headed and desperate as he growls in your ear; as he plays your body, brings you closer again like he had every cell memorised. “I’m gonna,” you sob. You don’t even get to finish the sentence. 

Another deep trust and you cum, squirming on his lap in bliss as your orgasm overtakes you. 

Steven swears, bucking up into you and biting his lip as your wall clench around him, trying to squeeze out every last drop as he follows you into that mind-shattering ecstasy. 

He cums deep, some spilling down his cock despite how tightly he is pressed inside, your pussy just too full to hold anymore. 

As you breathe deeply, trying to recover he holds you tightly, his hips still bucking upwards. His hard length still pushing firmly inside you. 

“Love,” he whines, reaching down again to stroke your clit. “Please, just one more, just one more.” 

How could you ever deny him? 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! I'm not doing my normal tag list for kinktober as to not overwhelm anyone, please let me know if you'd like to be added/taken off.

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[chaussetteblanche]

hobie taking care of drunk!you

pairing : hobie brown x gn!reader summary : the ways hobie takes care of you when you've had too much to drink warnings : none word count : about 1k

You had been shocked when Hobie had agreed to come to the party. You’d been begging him for days to come with you, not only because you wanted him to accompany you, but also because there were a few people you were convinced he would get along with. Other anarchists and punks. His kind of people. It was one of your friends’ birthday, and a perfect excuse to drink just a bit too much on a Friday evening.

“Aight, I’ll come along, but the second they get some of that shitty modern music playin’, I’m outta there, you get me?” he’d warned the day before. You had just beamed, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to give him a sweet kiss. He had hummed, heading back to the couch to resume his Bakunin book.

He was now staring at you across the room, you were in the kitchen with a dozen other people, throwing back drink after drink. He had known it was over when you’d started mixing alcohols. He’d have to stay the whole night, even if it was just to look after you. But it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, a few friends of yours had interesting political views and made for rich conversation. He internally winced when he saw your behaviour alter, thinking of how shitty you’d be feeling the following day.

“Hobie!” you cried loudly, wobbling over to him. He had a hand out as soon as you were within reach, hovering over the small of your back in case you were to stumble. "You alright there?" he asked. You nodded happily and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, smiling widely. “How are you liking the party with these two?” You motioned to your two friends, who chuckled at the state you were in. “I told ya you’d like ‘em,” “I do, they’re very nice, aren’t they?” he chuckled as you swayed lightly besides him. “How ‘bout you come with me for a sec, luv?” You looked down, shuffling your feet which seemed unusually far from you. “Not here, Hobes, we can’t…” Hobie let out a bark of laughter at the way your mind worked. “Nah, luv, I’m not tryna have sex right now, but let’s ‘ave a drink, though, yeah?” “Oh,” you nodded, a twinkling laugh escaping your throat, “sure,”

You wobbled enthusiastically to the kitchen, Hobie catching up with you within a few quick steps. “Lemme get ya somethin’ to drink, alright, luv?” Whenever you were out together, he would always make you drink some water without ruining your fun. You didn't always notice. “Sure, baby,” you smiled, all wet lips and pretty white teeth. Hobie let his eyes roam your face before tearing himself away and getting a shot glass. He filled it up with water and handed it to you. “Here ya go, dovey,” You stared sceptically down at the clear liquid in front of you, frowning. “It’s tequila,” he added, hoping to make you take the shot, like the dozen you’d taken before. You met his eye, brows low. “Like fuck it is.” He held his breath, sucking his tongue. Curse you for being so attractive when you acted defiant. “I’m not that drunk, you know, I can still differentiate water from tequila,” you spoke, chin lifted high. Hobie scanned your face, holding back a smirk. Glassy eyes, slurred speech, no balance whatsoever. He knew you well. Of course you were very, very far from sober and of course you wouldn't admit it. “Just drink it, alright?” he pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose to cover his smirk. “Fine, I’m drinking it, but it’s only because you’re so pretty, okay? So, it’s kind of a ‘fuck you’, just so you know.” He chuckled and nodded despite not understanding what you meant.

You run off after that and he returns to his conversation about neo-anarchism. But he loses sight of you for a few minutes and excuses himself, wanting to check up on you. He finds you outside, trying to convince your even drunker friend to come inside rather than sleeping in the grass. You’re lightly shaking her shoulder, whispering to her. “C’mon, babes, come inside. You can sleep on the couch, just not here, okay? I promise it's so much more comfortable.” Hobie’s heart warms at the sight of you caring for your friend despite the state you’re in. “Look, if you don’t get up, Imma give you a real slap and see how you like that,” you finally threaten, fed up. Hobie laughs when your friend gets up, grumbling, and heads inside.

“There y’are, lovely,” he speaks warmly, “’was looking f’you,” You tear your eyes away from your friend’s retreating form and look up at him. He looks even more beautiful under the moonlight, his silver piercing reflecting slightly. “Were you?” “Hmm,” he hums, lifting your chin and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Was worried ‘bout you,” “I’m fine,” you assure, grinning widely. “Really?” he cocks an eyebrow. You’re about to answer and say that, yes, really, you’re fine, but your stomach lurches and next thing you know you’re hunched over, the contents of your stomach spilling out into your friend’s bushes.

Hobie lets out a curse and quickly gathers your hair and pulls it back at the nape of your neck, getting it all out of your face. He rubs your back soothingly, whispering sweet things into your ear. “It’s okay, let it out, let it all out, baby, you’ll feel better afterwards.” When you’re done, he hands you a Kleenex and wipes your teary eyes, pouting slightly. “I’m so sorry, that was so fuckin’ disgusting,” you moan. He would probably be disgusted with you for weeks and would never want to ever look at you again. Your eyes started to well with tears. “Luv, y’know I don’t care ‘bout none of that,” he grins, kissing your cheek. “How ‘bout we get ya home, yeah?” “Yeah,” you look down, “that’s probably a good idea,”

When you’re back at his apartment, you shower together, and he helps you into bed. You’re out like a light, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, placing an Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your nightstand for the next morning. He smiles softly when you turn around to face him when he slides between the covers, your gentle breath fanning his face. You were a dumbass sometimes, but you were still his dumbass.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.

Words: 3.4k

A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂

I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.

*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His stubbornness and stoic grace.  His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together.  The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares.  At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too.  Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.

Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration.  His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you.  Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.

You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness.  The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.

You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean.  Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection.  You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”.  Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.

Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable.  Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.

Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other.  Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.

Dean allows the contact, his head hanging.  “Cas made his choice.”  His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.”  You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.

“He knows where I am if he does.”  He states, matter of fact.  “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.”  Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh.  “You and Sam.”

“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.”  You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.

The words don’t come out, however.  Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.

Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala.  Shit!  Angels.  Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt.  How have they found you again?

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.

You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.

Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them.  You, however, are stuck.  With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres.  At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland.  You can lose them in the trees.

Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.

“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.

“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins.  Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.

You know he’s right about the car.  The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path.  You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood.  That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.

The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind.  You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.

“Hey, Sam!”  You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.

“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone.  “Sam is driving.  He said I’m too slow.”

You grin big.  That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do.  From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.

“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.”  Sam sighed with mild frustration.

“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!”  Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin.  You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.

“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain.  “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”

“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.”  Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.

“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.”  Sam offers.  “We can turn around and try to catch up.”

“No!”  Dean snaps.  “You’re both safe.  I want you to stay that way.  Get someplace and lay low.  We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”

“Dean…”  Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.

“I said No!  Okay?  For once, just do what I say.  We’ve got this.”

You hang up the phone without waiting for a response.  You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.

The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns.  It looks promising and Dean agrees.

The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals.  Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady.  Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.

You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle.  Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.

“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.

“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.”  Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.

Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax.  He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back.  The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode.  He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.

A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset.  You point to the sign and Deans nods.  He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.

As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you.  It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes.  You feel it too.  Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release.  You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better.  You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.

A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest.  Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever.  You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.

You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open.  Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear.  Your need to feel him.

You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed.  You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.

The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.

Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.

It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you.  The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his.  He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him.  Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.

Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks.  His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.

“You ready for me?”  You ask, breathless.

“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”

You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long.  Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.

Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance.  Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it.  He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.

When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.

You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.

“Fuck…”  he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.

“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.

“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now.  “We’ll get you for two.”

He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair.  He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.

“You feel freaking amazing.”  He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.

“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.

He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt.  Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby.  Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.

Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man.  Damn, he’s hot!  Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet.  Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure.  The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.

When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops.  There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you.  It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes.  You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.

His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him.  His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes.  With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.

As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged.  He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming.  He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.

“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell.  “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”

Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.

“I want it,” you almost beg.  “Want you.”

He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.

Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you.  Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body.  Everything feels so right, he feels right.  The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel.  It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.

Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest.  There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him.  Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.

“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips.  “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”

“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?”  You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.

He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal.  “Hell yeah!  Sign me up.”

You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam.  You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away.  You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.

After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.

“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.”  You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.

“Several.”  He says against your delicate skin.

“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?”  You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.

“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.

Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need.  Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully.  Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.

“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”

Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Washing Machine

After a long time of having a long distance relationship with Minho you finally return back home to him, but you need some time and Minho's reminders to realize that you were actually finally back together.

wc: 1346

domestic fluff and a bit of angst, crying, hugs

‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?’, Minho mumbled when he pulled you into his arms, squeezing you comfortably close to him.

‘I missed you’, you whispered back and snuggled into his chest, caressing his back gently in tiny motions.

‘Missed you too’, he spoke even quieter and a slight tremble was audible in his voice.

After a while you managed to let go of each other, but not further than still holding onto each other’s hands, every touch as proof of this being real necessary. Your bags were still spread over the floor around you, immediately dropped once you entered the apartment and basically flew into Minho’s embrace.

There was a momentous silence now, only you two staring into each others eyes, soft smiles appearing on your lips before you both go back to a serious expression, processing that you were actually in the same room, that you were finally together again.

It shouldn’t have felt so overwhelming. You texted every day, even made sure to call every night since you left for your studies. You knew about the other’s routines and small habits, made announcements the second something happened and laughed together for hours on face time. In the beginning, despite the big changes, it still felt like nothing much had to change between you two, but now experiencing the other’s presence again was the reality check you needed to understand how much actually had changed.

‘I made a list’, Minho shyly informed and pulled out a piece of paper that he kept in the pocket of his pants, his other hand held onto yours.

Clumsily, he waved the paper sheet around, so that it would unfold itself, making you giggle, ‘You can let go of me for a sec’.

'No', he simply answered, eyes glued to the paper until he managed to be able to read the list to you.

‘One, I want to hug you-’

‘Check, you did. Moving on?’, you laughed and weren’t surprised to see his annoyed expression papering on his pretty face.

‘I made the effort to work on a handwritten list and I won’t let you ruin this with your inability of showing any sincere emotional reaction’, he explained with a piercing gaze.

‘Go on then’, you chuckled, feeling your chest stinging. His thumb softly caressed your knuckles and he pressed his lips together into a forced smile.

'I want to hug you as often as possible. Let me finish my sentences, yeah?’, he continued and pulled you against him again, laying his free hand around your waist onto your hip, while holding onto the list with the free one. He gazed back and forth between you and the paper sheet.

‘Two,… I want to, you know, and, no, ahm, you know what? This is stupid’, he changed his mind with a final look at you and stuffed the paper into your hand.

‘Just read it yourself and then do whatever, whenever you want. I’m not saying any of it out loud’, he announced and left you standing there, so you could read the written notes, while he collected the bags and brought them to his bedroom to start organizing your belongings.

You followed him and leaned against the door frame, observing him opening and pulling out your clothes from one of the bigger bags, sorting them into different piles, before you eyed his list again. With a cough, clearing your throat, you started reading the bullet point out loud.

‘I want to kiss you for at least an hour every night for the rest of this week’, you chuckled and looked up to see his reaction. Minho didn’t show any hesitation in his movements, didn’t stop grabbing cloth after cloth to drop them on one pile on the bed, he didn’t even look up to you.

You continued, ‘I want to fall asleep with you in my arms’, you left a pause for the dramatic effect and read the next, ’I want to wake up and hold you in my arms for at least 30 minutes every morning possible- Did you also write an `I want to marry you!` somewhere?’, you laughed mockingly.

He walked towards you with a bunch of your clothes in his arms and passed by with an angry glare at you. Again, you followed him to the washing machine and sat down, leaning you head against the doorframe, a yawn rising in your throat that you quickly suppressed.

‘That’s my favorite sweater there. Please, don’t wash it’, you pointed at a simple black sweater.

Minho took it out of the washing machine again and inspected it closely, even smelling on it, raising and eyebrow at you with a smirk on his face. ‘It’s mine. I can wash it whenever I want to’, he huffed and put it back in.

You hurried towards the machine when he quickly closed its door. ‘No, Minho, don’t’, you panicked, but he held you back and pushed some buttons that activated the washing process.

Tears started forming in the corner of your eyes and you tried again to move forward to deactivate the machine, but still, Minhos arm hindered you from reaching it. When you saw the water rising in the drum, you panicked even more and added more strength to push Minho away and as strong as you were, he was still a bit stronger and you had to give up, sadly watching your clothes getting drenched in water and laundry detergent.

Uncontrollable tears finally ran down your cheeks and you realized that you were crying when a first sob shook your whole body. You held your breath and tensed up, hypnotized by the rotating inside of the washing machine, not hearing anything else but your pointing heart and screaming soul.

Only when Minho, who was quietly sitting on the floor next to you, leaned over to wipe away your tears, you recognized his presence and placed the list on his leg with the words ‘Good list.’

‘The sweater didn’t smell good anymore. You can have it back later’, he consoled and pushed some strands of your tear drenched hair aside.

‘I never washed it once’, you mumbled and tapped against the glass of the drum.

‘Need it with your smell’, you added even quieter and felt the pain of panic again.

‘Needed you.’

‘But I’m right here now’, Minho gently reminded and tapped your nose to make you turn your head, drawing your attention back on him. ‘I’m right here next to you’, he repeated and as if you needed to check if that was true, you reached out and let your hand wander from his shoulder down to his hand that rested on the cold floor tiles, proceeding to draw invisible patterns onto the back of it. Slowly, he turned it and maneuvered your palm in his, squeezing you once he held you secure by your hand.

‘Missed you so much’, you mumbled and gently got pulled into another hug. You had not strength to do anything, you couldn’t even hug Minho back, just slumped against him comfortably.

The list was somewhere crumpled between your bodies. You had no sense of time, so when Minho finally whispered that his legs are going numb and hesitantly helped you up, you wondered if you were sitting there for 10 minutes or an hour.

‘Help me’, Minho demanded with a sweet smile and stretched his arms up, so you could pull him up. The list fell down and Minho hurried to pick it up and went back to his bedroom, signaling you to follow him. In a hurry and with a shaking hand, he added another point to the list and then placed the paper on the drawer behind him.

‘Now, we cuddle’, he pulled you onto the bed forcefully and curled himself around you desperately. ‘And you tell me in which situations you needed the sweater, because now you have me again and I’ll make sure that you don’t need to depend on any material good to get through a day.’

-> pt.2

[libraryofloveletters]

Daddy’s Biggest Fan

Lance Stroll x Fem!Reader

Warnings: surprise baby!, babygirl is the star of the show and the gem of the stroll family, grandpa Lawrence is besties with his granddaughter, mentions of labour and giving birth (nothing graphic!), the vettel family is the cutest, soft uncle mick, uncle estie and auntie elena, some cheesy comments from lance, auntie chloe and uncle scotty for the win! 

Word Count: 6,210

Author’s Note: prompted by this video and this photo :)) enjoy soft dad lance! // also y’all know I cannot write lance without some mention of Canada lmaoooo forgive me please 

--- 

Weekend of the Canadian Grand Prix, 2022. 

The hallways were empty considering it was nearly midnight. Lance’s bag hung off of his shoulder, hitting his back as he ran towards the desk. “Y/n l/n, where is she?” He asks, fingers drumming against the counter as he waits for the nurse to tell him. 

“Who are you?” She asks and he huffs a sigh. “Her boyfriend.” 

“Oh, yeah okay. Uh, one sec,” she checked the charts to her left, “room 209.” She tells him and with that he’s off again, scanning all the door numbers before he finds the room. 

He walks in quietly, silently hoping he hasn't missed it. “Did I miss it?” Lance asks.

He finds you still very much pregnant on the bed. “You didn’t,” you smiled, your hand stretched out for him. 

The Canadian Grand Prix was this weekend which meant Lance was home in Montreal so the baby picked the perfect time to make their appearance into the world. The fact that you two were expecting was a bit of a secret, no one except your families, the Vettels along with Esteban, Elena and Mick knew. 

Seb only found out because Lance went shopping with him to pick up a few things for his kids and Seb was curious as to why he was so interested in baby clothes all of a sudden. As for Esteban, Elena and Mick, the 3 drivers were close and Esteban is bad at keeping secrets so that was that. 

Sunday was rolling into Monday and your contractions were closer together. Your sister in law was asleep on the chair next to your bed, Lance didn’t wake her but your groans did. 

“When’d you get here?” She yawns, looking at her brother. 

“An hour ago. Can you get the doctor though? Her contractions are closer together now.” Lance asked his sister, you and Chloe share a glance before laughing. Chloe squeezes her brother’s shoulder, “yeah, I'll go.” 

It was a few moments before Chloe returned, your sister in law beside your boyfriend as the doctor checked how far along you were dilated. “Alright, you’re just about ready to push.” The doctor gets up, letting the sheet back down. “We’ll get you prepped, who’s staying?” 

“I am.” “He is.” Chloe and Lance answer at the same time. 

You smile at the Stroll siblings, Chloe comes over to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be waiting outside. You've got this,” she tells you, and you nod. “I’ll see you after.” 

Chloe gives her brother a hug before stepping out.  

The doctor and nurses come in, it’s an overwhelming scene to anyone on the outside but you were relaxed, surprisingly. 

The room door was shut, the drape up between your lower half and you with Lance standing by your side, holding your hand the whole time. Your boyfriend whispered sweet nothings to you, praising you on what a good job you were doing. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, kissing your forehead. “Doing so good, baby. Just a few more pushes.” 

“Almost here,” Your doctor calls up to you, “few more.” She confirms your boyfriend’s theory.

Within the next few minutes, you had given birth. You looked a mess, hair matted to your forehead from sweat, your eyes teary and you were beyond exhausted and yet, he looked at you like you held the sun and the stars.

“So proud of you,” Lance whispers, pushing your hair away from your face as he kisses your forehead. The doctor was right next to you two, cleaning up the baby and doing her initial tests before wrapping the little baby in a white and pink blanket.

“Congratulations,” She smiles, placing the baby in Lance’s arms. “It’s a girl.” She tells you both, giving you a moment to coo over her.

The floodgates have broken, Lance’s face covered in tears as he sits by your bedside, resting the baby on your chest gently. This was probably the first time you’ve seen Lance cry this much, it’s quite sweet to see his daughter reduce him to a puddle to tears. His arm over the top of the pillow, the two of you looking at the baby you created.

Both of you crying, the little thing on your chest had her eyes shut. “She’s got your eyes,” Lance whispers, as if he would be disturbing the baby’s rest by being any louder.

“Her eyes are barely open.” You chuckled, looking over at your boyfriend. 

It was a little while with just the 3 of you. Lance already has a million and one pictures of his baby girl on the phone, changing the home screen from you to one of you and her. 

There’s a knock on the door, the nurse sticking her head in to let you know that you have visitors. Lance tells her to let them in, you were sitting on the bed, a baby wrapped up in a blanket being cradled to your chest with Lance sitting on the edge of the tiny hospital bed. 

Chloe held the first bag, a little stuffed lion and blanket in it and Scotty followed behind, some outfits for the baby in the bag. “When’d you get here?” you asked Scotty, the two of them coming over to see the newest addition to the Stroll family. 

“Chloe called me as soon as it was time for you to push.” He asks, watching as you hand the baby over to your sister in law. 

“You guys,” Chloe whispers, holding the baby like she was the most precious thing in the world. “She’s so beautiful.” 

Scotty and Chloe sat on the bench next to the window, the two of them cooing over their niece. 

“We didn’t tell you her name,” you look over at them, Lance snuggled in next to you on the bed. The older couple looks over, waiting for you to tell them. 

“Meet Elizabeth Chloe Stroll.” You tell them, glancing between Chloe and Lance. 

“Chloe?” The blonde asks, looking down at the baby in her arms. 

“Mhm hm, after the best auntie in the world,” you hold Lance's hand, the woman smiles. Scotty grins at his fiancé, you and Lance chuckling at her reaction.  

“Lizzie for short,” Lance says, a smile on his face. 

The two of you had wanted to name her with a name that started with L but you couldn't settle on any so you went with Elizabeth, Lizzie for short. Also because Lance wanted her to have L. Stroll like him. 

“She’s beautiful,” Chloe says once more, “like her mom.” 

“Wow, no credit for me?” Lance asks his sister, she shrugs. “Don’t worry, mate. I think you’re handsome.” Scotty says to his brother in law, earning a few laughs. 

--- 

The next few days had been a whirlwind of emotions. Lizzie was born on Tuesday just past midnight and you were released on the Thursday. Lance refused to leave you two, telling the team that he’d be missing media day and decided to opt out of practice on Friday as well. 

Perks of your dad owning the team you drive for I suppose. 

Lizzie was laying against her father’s chest, her little hand wrapped around his finger as he rubbed her back softly. You had gone to take a shower before Lance had to leave but the man was still on the couch, dressed for the track but he’s yet to move from his spot. 

“Lance.” You called, your hands on your hips. “C’mon, you can’t miss qualifying.” 

“Do I really have to go?” There’s a pout playing on his lips when you come over to take Lizzie from him. 

You’ve got the little girl in your arms when you stand between his legs. “Yes, you have to go.” 

Lance gets up, a pout on his face and you reach up to give him a kiss. You can feel his hand over yours, the one resting under Lizzie, holding her up in her little roots onesie. 

“Go on,” you nudge him towards the door. Lance begrudgingly makes his way to the door, picking up his keys and his phone before turning back to face his girls once more.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” 

“One hundred percent,” you smile at your boyfriend. You’ve got Lizzie tucked into your chest, an arm under her as your other hand rests on your boyfriend’s jaw. “We love you, now go.” 

“I love you,” he smiles before giving you a kiss. Lance leans down a bit more, kissing Lizzie’s head, “I love you the most.” 

You smiled at the man and his daughter, rushing him out the door before he missed the session. 

Lizzie was but a few days old, much too little for you to be taking her to a race. You’re certain there were rumours floating around that you and Lance had split after you not being there for a few months. Once you hit your 5th month of pregnancy, it was hard to find the bump under clothes and your doctor suggested staying in one place or only go to races that are much shorter flights. 

It was killing you to miss his home race this weekend but there was nothing you wouldn’t do for this little girl. 

You two sort of lay around for a bit. You take a million and one photos of her; new parents and not wanting to miss a moment. You had the tv on, watching as the sky sports crew made their way through the paddock, asking around while they set up for qualifying. 

Lizzie stretches in your arms and you decide to change her into the little outfit her grandfather had gifted her. 

The day after you two told Lawrence you were expecting, you received a basket of baby things; onesies, hats, shirts, little jackets and hoodies, a blanket and even a little car stuffie all in Aston Martin green with the little logo on it. 

The little girl was now in a onesie, the Aston logo across her tummy and the back had a number 18 on it. 

You put her to lay on the couch so you can take a photo of her. You send that on to Lawrence with a message attached; future aston driver ? 

Your father in law replied with a yes and a million emojis that he’s newly discovered and had come to love. 

“Your grandad is so cheesy,” you tell her quietly, picking her back up. You held her in your arm carefully, watching as they were doing last minute checks before the cars would be pulling out for quali. 

The two of you take a selfie, both you and Lizzie have on Aston Martin shirts with the matching 18 on the back. 

To Lance: good luck!! <3 *1 Image Attachment* 

From Lance: miss my biggest fan. 

To Lance: awh you miss me? how sweet. 

From Lance: you’re funny, you got booted. Lizzie is daddy’s biggest fan. 

To Lance: it’s not cute when you refer to yourself as daddy. 

From Lance: you love it mommy. 

To Lance: you’re sooooo gross. go race, we love you. 

Setting the phone down, you rocked the sleepy baby softly. The volume was low but the sound of the zooming cars and the rumbling engines lulled her back to sleep. 

You managed to stay awake through qualifying; Sebastian and Lance were starting one after another with the German in P17 and the Canadian in P18. 

Not the best but hopefully tomorrow will be better. 

Lizzie woke up at some point after qualifying. You changed her diaper, fed her, rocked her and sang to her until you two found your way back to the couch. It had been a repeat of the same thing for the last few days; sleep, eat, sing to her, take a million photos, change her and repeat. 

You tried to get a few minutes of sleep when she did which is what you were doing when your boyfriend walked into the apartment. The door shuts quietly, the man setting the keys down on the entry table softly before making his way over to his girls on the couch. 

Despite changing his clothes, you could still smell the burnt rubber and gasoline on his skin. “Hey,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss Lizzie’s head before sitting next to you. 

The girl in your arms and your head back against the couch cushions. Your eyes were shut but you open them when you feel him take her from you, giving you a break. 

“Weren’t you sleeping?” He asks, Lizzie’s little hand wrapping around his finger when he gently rubs over her hand. 

“Resting my eyes,” you hum, snuggling into his side. 

The man smiles, there’s nothing better than having his two girls with him. He rocks the girl in his arms back and forth ever so softly, calming her when she stirs. “Shh, go back to sleep angel. Daddy’s here.” 

You looked up from his shoulder at him, “what did I tell you about that daddy thing?” 

“I was talking to Lizzie, you freak.” He chuckles, kissing your head. 

---- 

Weekend of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, 2022. 

You and Lance have finally decided to take Elizabeth to her first Grand Prix. It only made sense to take her to Abu Dhabi, seeing that it was the final race of the season, and that you would get there early enough to give her time to acclimate to the environment.

Also, you had sweet talk Lance into thinking it was a good idea because you wanted to be there for Sebastian's final weekend.

Lawrence had been asking when he was going to see his granddaughter at a race and all the things just aligned, it made the most sense to go then rather than wait for the start of next season. 

Lizzie was now six months old, and she was starting to hit a few milestones. She can roll over and sit up on her own, starting to pull herself up and make efforts to crawl. She's starting to babble and make funny faces at you. She also is starting to recognize people and she loves when her auntie Chloe and uncle Scotty come over because Scotty spends 98% of the time making funny faces at her, and it causes the sweetest little giggles you’ve ever heard in your life. 

You had given her a shower, getting her dressed for the day and you were about to get dressed yourself, thinking you’d be leaving her with her dad but the man was knocked out in the arm chair, the baby bottle sat on his lap and dripping on his shirt. 

It was too funny to ignore so you set Lizzie in her playpen, taking a photo of Lance before posting it to your Instagram story. 

It’s the first post of him you've made since you suddenly vanished from the paddock. Of course you cover the baby bottle with a little heart emoji and tagged him before setting your phone down.

“Sweetheart,” you nudged him softly. Lance stirred a bit but didn’t open his eyes. You take the baby bottle off of his lap and sit on him. “Lance, c’mon.” 

The man finally opens his eyes, a scowl on his face. “Why’d you wake me?” He groans.

“You have dinner with the guys tonight.” 

“Noooo,” he whines, his arms wrapped around you. “Let me stay.” 

“I’ll give you Lizzie and have her drool on you if you don’t get up.” You give him a look and his brows raise, “you wouldn’t.” 

You get off his lap, going to get the girl out of her playpen. “Fine!” He shouts, grabbing you by the waist when he rushes over you, his arms around you once again as he hugs you from behind. Lance's chin rests on your shoulder, “I love her but she drools soooo much.” He sighs, earning a laugh from you. 

“Go change,” you wiggle him off of you. Lance nods, leaving you two to go change for dinner. 

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” He yells from the bedroom and you roll your eyes; you know he means well but sometimes you swear he forgets it’s just the two of you when he was away racing. 

“Chloe is coming over, we’re gonna catch up on our gossip.” You tell him, picking up Lizzie and swinging her around. The little girl giggled, her big brown eyes wide and her gummy smile on display. 

Lance comes out of the room, “and what do we plan to do with little missy when you two are catching up on your gossip?” 

There’s a knock on the hotel door and you walk over to open it, Chloe and Scotty arriving together. Lizzie babbles when her uncle reaches for her, smothering her cheeks with kisses when you hand her over. 

“Voila!” You show your boyfriend, his sister and her fiancé enamoured with their niece. 

Lance shook his head, “you’re something else, babe.” 

“It's called delegating, Lance.” 

“Whatever,” the man nods, giving you a thumbs up with a look of fake disappointment. He gives you a kiss goodbye before saying hello to his sister and Scotty. He takes Lizzie from Scotty for a minute to say goodnight to her, knowing she'd be sleeping by the time he got back from dinner. 

“I love you, sugarplum.” He whispers to his daughter, “sleep well.” He kissed her temple gently before handing her back over to her uncle. 

----

The final qualifying of the season and you two had just returned to the paddock after almost an entire year of you not being there. 

This time with a special guest. 

Lizzie was in her dad’s arms, pulling on his sunglasses every other second as he walked through the paddock. 

The little girl looked out into the swarming photographers then back to her dad who was whispering something to her. His other hand was holding yours, the obvious fact was that this was why you had vanished from the paddock. 

You make it to the garage and while you two settle in, Lizzie is going from hand to hand, basking in all the attention she was getting; she gets that from you, her father wasn’t the most sociable with people he didn’t know, while you were a social butterfly. 

Lizzie’s got a pair of clunky green headphones over her ears, protecting her little ears from the loud noises. She was currently on Seb’s side of the garage, Britta holding the little girl as Seb showed her something he had in his hands. 

“I think Hanna’s gotta prepare herself for the ‘I think we should have one more’ talk,” you joked with Lance, nodding towards Seb who was clearly enthralled by the little girl. 

Lance laughed, “Seb just loves kids, babe. He’s been asking me to bring her around.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” You smacked his arm lightly, “I would have brought her.” 

“Sometimes I think you like Sebastian more than you like me,” he gives you a pointed look and you smile, “I do.” You walked off to get Lizzie before the session started.

“Hey,” you wiggled your fingers at the girl, getting her attention.  Seb turns to see you, pulling you into a side hug, his arm over your shoulders. “She’s so cute, y/n.” He tells you, Britta had bent down so Seb’s daughters could talk to her. 

“Thank you, Seb.” You smiled, “I think she looks like her dad.” 

“No way, she's your carbon copy. She just has his eyes.” He says, “that’s why she’s cute, if she looked like him... well..” 

“Sebastian!” You laughed, taking Lizzie back from Britta. 

The German laughs, “I'm kidding. Hanna’s upstairs and that’s where you two are going, right?” He looks over at his daughters, the little blonde girls nod and hug their father before turning to you. 

“Can we play with her later?” The oldest asks and you nod, “of course. I’ll bring her upstairs in a few minutes.” 

The girls ran down the hallway hand in hand, back upstairs to their mother and little brother. 

“Good luck,” you tell Seb, “say good luck to uncle Seb,” you tell Lizzie, lifting her chubby hand to wave to the man before returning to Lance’s side of the garage. 

Lance takes the girl from you the moment you walk back over, sneaking in as many cuddles he can before he was needed in the car. You took a few photos of the two; Lizzie’s little green dress matches the colour of her father’s race suit and her chunky hands rested on her daddy’s cheeks, smacking his face softly as he pretended to bite her chubby cheeks. 

One of his engineers gives him the signal, time for him to get in the car. “I love you sugarplum,” he whispers to the girl, handing her back over to you. 

The moment Elizabeth is back in your arms, she starts crying. It was safe to say she was a daddy’s girl through and through, she had that man wrapped around her finger; Lance had a pout on his face like you had ripped his heart out and stomped on it the moment she started crying. 

“Don’t,” you warn him, your hand on his cheek when you kiss him. 

Neither of you seemed to notice the cameras flashing or the fact that they had gotten the whole sweet moment before Lance and his girls in camera. 

“Go before she wants you again.” You tell him, shooing him off while Elizabeth was looking over your shoulder, away from her father. He blows his girls a kiss once more, walking off to get his helmet and get in the car. You bounce Lizzie in your arms until the car pulls out of the garage and then you head upstairs to find Hanna and the kids. 

-- 

Quali had finished faster than expected but neither you nor Hanna were really paying attention; the woman was letting you in on the secrets of motherhood while the children played. 

The little boy was laying on his mum’s lap, his eyes shut and his blonde curls all over the place. You were sitting on the floor, Elizabeth on your lap while the girls showed her their toys, putting on a show for her. Lizzie had no idea what they were on about but the expressions on their faces along with the colourful toys captured her attention enough to get her to babble along, swinging her hands happily.  

Sebastian and Lance found their way upstairs to see their kids before having to go off to press. 

If you had asked Sebastian if he thought both he and Lance would be going up to see their children by the time he retired when he first started at Aston, the man would have laughed in your face. 

But it’s funny how life works and children change you for the better. Sebastian told his teammate as much. 

Lance find his way to sit behind you and you lean back on his legs. Sebastian is next to Hanna, sinking into the couch when he lets out a big breath. 

“How’d we do, boys?” You asked and Seb shrugs. “Could be better.” 

“Says the man in P9,” Lance laughed, his hands coming down to rest on your shoulders. “And you?” You leaned back, your head on his knee as you looked up at him. 

“P14.” 

“Tomorrow will be better.” Your hand comes up to rest on his, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“Ah young love,” Seb sighs, nudging Hanna. “Remember when we were like that?” 

“You’re still like that, Sebastian.” The woman gives him an exasperated look, earning a few laughs. 

Elizabeth was looking around now, instantly wiggling from your grasp and trying to turn when she heard Lance’s voice. You lean to the side, letting Lance hunch over and pick her up. She’s standing on his lap, hands on his face to keep her balance as she looks around. She sees Sebastian to her left who was making faces at her. 

The little girl babbles, her father’s hands being the only thing keeping her up when she reaches for Sebastian. Lance hands her over to Seb, Elizabeth sitting comfortably on his lap when you lean back to take a photo of her, Seb and Hanna. 

“Can’t believe both of my girls prefer Sebastian over me.” Lance grumbles, making you laugh. 

“He has 4 championships, how many do you have?” You asked your boyfriend, the man rolling his eyes at your comment. 

Sebastian looks down at the little girl, her hands tugging on the bracelet on his wrist. “Remember when the kids were this little?” He asked his wife and she smiled. 

“You could always have one more,” Lance suggests to the older couple. 

“No.” Hanna says, while Seb had a whole other answer; “yes.” 

You and Lance exchange a look, laughing at them. 

“Feel free to babysit Liz anytime you want another kid, she’ll change your mind.” You tell them and Seb shakes his head, lifting the girl when he looks up at her. 

“Mum says you’re naughty,” he gives her a look and she giggles. “Yeah, you’re not bad, you're a good girl.” He smiles at her, “I know you are, sweetheart.” He sets her back on his lap, facing him. 

At some point, Britta comes looking for Seb, both of the drivers having to up and leave for press. There’s lots of smooches, the kids wanting their fathers to stay and promises of sweets upon return. 

----

P8 for Lance and P10 for Sebastian. 

The Astons finishing off the season in the points and almost beating Alfa Romeo for 6th in the constructors was a good position to be in. 

You had joined the mechanics on the pit wall for the final lap, watching the cars cross the finish line. Lizzie was a few feet away, her chunky green headphones over her ears as her grandfather held her. 

Sebastian was currently doing his final donuts of his F1 career and you could see Hanna and the kids to your left, watching with the proudest looks on their faces. You smiled at them, a hand on your back pulling your attention away from the family. 

Lance stood beside you, his arm over your shoulders and his race suit rolled down to his waist. “Back so soon?” You asked, assuming he would have still been in parc fermé and yet he was here. “Wanted to see my girls.” He smiled, letting you lean in to kiss him. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his lips and he kissed you once more. 

“Where’s sugar plum?” He looked around when he realized you didn't have her. 

You nod towards the pit wall; Elizabeth was banging on all the buttons on the table, Lawrence laughing as he watched the little girl. 

The chaos on the track died down, everyone returning to their respective garages or off to watch the podium. The paddock was still packed; fans, crew, drivers, families, celebrities despite the fact that it was nearly 10pm. 

The two drivers were in the garage, the Vettel children running circles around their grandparents as Seb and Hanna made the rounds, Sebastian getting into a conversation with everyone he stopped to talk too. You and Lance were soaking in the last few moments of the season on track. Elizabeth was with her granddad, the little girl being carried around the paddock as he said his goodbyes and small talk with the other team principals. 

“Can I get a picture?” The photographer asks when he sees Sebastian and Hanna with you two. 

The 4 of you manage to find yourselves together after the few drinks you’ve had, all adorning dopey, happy grins on your faces.

It was a bittersweet moment; the start of a new adventure for both drivers.

Sebastian navigates retired life while Lance figures out how to be a father - something he knows he’ll be turning to Seb for when he’s at a loss. 

You two say your goodbyes to Sebastian, Hanna and the kids, as well as Seb’s parents and his brother. Lawrence catches the Vettels on the way out, letting Lizzie say bye to her new friends before they head out for the night. 

“Can I have my baby back?” Lance asked his father and the older man shook his head, “no. She’s my granddaughter.” 

“But she’s my daughter.” He bickered with his father. 

You let them bicker, quietly taking Lizzie from Lawrence without either of them noticing. When they finally stop fighting and notice you’re holding the girl, you smile. “You forget she’s still my girl before either of yours.” 

Lance packs up the rest of his things shortly after saying goodbye to everyone else in the garage. You three were on your way out when you got stopped by Elena shouting for you. 

“Y/N!” She starts running to you three. 

“ELENA!” you shout back, rushing over to give the woman a hug. Lizzie was squished between you two, Elena taking her from you. “Mon amour,” she fixed the bow on the little girl’s dress, “you’ve gotten so big.” She kisses her cheek. 

Esteban and Mick weren’t far behind. The Frenchman coos over the little girl with his girlfriend and Mick joins in. 

The 3 of them had come to meet Elizabeth post Canadian Grand Prix along with Sebastian. The 4 of them and Hanna, were the only ones aside from your families that knew you two had a baby hence her instant connection when she saw them again. 

Once again, Elizabeth is the star of the show. Esteban is forced to take a million pictures of her and Elena. One thing with Lizzie was that she loved the attention, she always found the camera in the room. Mick was passed the phone next, taking one of Esteban with the girls. You and Lance joined the couple, all of you smiling for the camera. Elizabeth was getting fussy so you took her back but she started wiggling, her little arms stretched out for her uncle Mick. 

Mick was holding the girl now and you asked one of the Alfa Romeo crew members passing by to take the photo for the 6 of you. 

You smiled, watching as Mick spun around with the girl in his arms. He was telling her something, tickling her side as he did. 

“We’re headed to the club, you guys want to come?” Elena asks, her fingers interlocking with her boyfriend’s. 

“Uhh,” Lance looked at you and you shrugged. “We’d have to get someone to watch Liz first.” He tells his friends. 

Esteban nods, “the joys of being parents.” He jokes. 

“Well, I'll text you where we end up, text me if you’re coming!” Elena tells you, saying goodbye as they head out. Mick joined them once he passed Elizabeth back to Lance, giving the girl a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Do you want to go?” He asks you, the three of you heading out. “It’d be nice but who’s gonna look after Lizzie?” You looked over at him and he paused, literally stopped in the middle of the parking lot. 

“I know exactly who.” 

It’s a short walk back to the hotel, you two pack up whatever you think Elizabeth would need for the night, putting her in the stroller before heading back to the elevator. Lance hit the button for the 16th floor and you know exactly what he’s thinking. Once you got off, you followed the man to the door. 

He knocks and Chloe opens the door. “Hey,” she smiles, leaning on the door frame. “Everything okay?” 

“I was wondering..” Lance starts. “Since you’re my favourite sister and all-” “Your only sister but go on,” she folds her arms, waving him on. 

“Can you watch sugar plum tonight? I know you two don’t have plans and we wanted to go out.” 

Chloe gives her brother an obviously look but she nods, “of course we’ll watch her. Do you have her stuff?” 

“Everything’s in her baby bag, thank you guys.” You tell her when Lance pushes the stroller into the suite. “No need to thank me, I know you two needed a night to relax. Go have your fun, we’ll see you in the morning.” She gives you a shove out of the room. 

“You’re sure you’ll be okay ?” Lance asked his sister and she smacks his shoulder, “duh, I used to look after you. We’ll be fine, I'll call if anything but I won’t need to, so go.” 

The two of you were a little hesitant to leave Elizabeth without either of you  for the night, seeing that it was the first time that you've actually done that but you knew she’d be in good hands with her auntie Chloe and uncle Scotty. 

You two ended up meeting Elena, Esteban and Mick at the club and had the time of your lives; dancing, doing shots, singing along to the horribly loud music that was playing.

It was the type of night that you wanted to remember forever that won’t be fully remembered. The best kind of night. 

It was nearly 8am when you found yourselves back in the elevator and on your way to get your daughter. Lance wanted to go back to the hotel room and sleep off the hangover he knew was incoming but you at least wanted to see Elizabeth first.

You knocked on the door quietly, Scotty opened it with a wide awake Lizzie in his arms. 

“You two look like hell,” he laughed, bouncing the girl in his arms. “Sorry we’re late,” you tell him, smiling at the girl who was still sleepy and drooling all over his shirt. 

He steps aside. “It’s okay, c’mon in.”

Chloe was knocked out on the couch, the baby bottle in her hand. “Lizzie put her to sleep?” You chuckled and Scotty nodded. “It’s hard work but it's worth it, isn’t it?” 

“So worth it.” You smiled. 

Lance has found himself to the spot next to his sister, dropping down and his eyes already shut. 

“You should stay for breakfast.” He says, sitting on the couch across from the one Lance and Chloe were on. “I doubt we’ll be having breakfast anytime soon,” You nod towards the sleeping siblings. 

“That's okay,” he smiles, “you should get some rest too. I can watch her.” 

“Are you sure? You guys had her all night.” 

Scotty waves you off, nodding towards the bedroom. “She slept through the night like a champ, woke up like 30 minutes ago. Go get some rest.” He sends you off. 

It was maybe 3 or 4 hours later when you felt the little hands on your side. Lance in bed with you and Lizzie between you two. “Hi sugar,” you picked her up, kissing her temple. 

“Sleep well?” Your boyfriend asks and you nod, “good enough.” 

“We ordered lunch, should be here by time Chloe gets out of the shower.” He rubs your leg, “she left some clothes for you.” He nods towards the t-shirt and pants at the end of the bed. 

After a few minutes, you got out of bed and changed, making sure to wash your face and brush your teeth before joining Lance, Elizabeth and Scotty in the living room. Chloe joined a few minutes after you just in time for lunch to arrive. 

All of you settled in around the table and started having breakfast, chatting away and you took a moment to make a post on Instagram for the first time in a long time. 

It’s a couple photos from the last few days in Abu Dhabi. 

The first one from race day, you and Lance leaning on his car with Lizzie peeking out from under the halo of the car while she sat in his seat. 

The next one is Chloe, Scotty and Lizzie. The three of them laying on the floor from the night they came over while Lance was at Seb’s retirement dinner. 

The next 3 are from post race before you went out; one of Elena, Esteban and Elizabeth, one of Mick and Elizabeth and finally one with all 6 of you in front of the Aston Martin garage. 

Lawrence had sent you a photo of Lizzie and him sitting on the pit wall that one of the engineers took, her big chunky headphones being tugged on while her granddad tried to fix them. 

The last group photo was on you, Lance, Seb and Hanna in the Aston garage before you all headed out for the night; arms wrapped around each other and big goofy grins on your faces. 

There were the final two pictures; One of you and Lizzie, she’s on your lap while you do your makeup and one of her and Lance in the pool, he’s holding her while they’re laughing at each other. 

The set was captioned with a perfect end to the season <3. 

You set the phone down, looking back at the people sitting around the table. Your boyfriend, your daughter, your sister in law and your brother in law.

The little unit made some of the best memories and had some of the most important people in your life there. 

It truly was the perfect end to the season. 

----- 

taglist: @timetoracewrites @diorleclerc @lickmeleclerc @dragon-of-winterfell @benedictscanvas @elisaa-shelby @hnmaga-blog @czechoslovakiandisco @dr3lover @troybolton14 @Lovingroscoee @compulsiveshit @somanyfandomsbruh  @damnyoulifee @barzysreputation @vickyofalltrades @yeolsbubbles @barzysreputation @thybulleric @valkyrie418 @ricsaigaslec @idkiwantchocolatee  @sessgjarg @molliemoo3 @bisexual-desi @sunf1owerrq @alwaysclassyeagle @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ + @lovelytsunoda​ because i know i love lance <3

[fluffansmut]

Eddie and crybaby!fairy!reader is back again for a part three!

This time featuring a special guest!

(Thanks for the idea, @hellfirefiend)

Part one & part two

You and Eddie was sat on the sofa, sharing a cookie, (with you picking crumbsized bits of his fingertips as he tenderly crumbled the cookie bit by bit for you), when there was a knock at the door…

You looked up at Eddie from your spot on the armrest, non verbally asking if he knew who it was…

”stay there baby” he said, and got up from the sofa to get the door.

You watched from your spot as the door flew open and how an excited voice instantly began chatting to Eddie, throwing his arms around him.

The stranger at the door spooked you a bit, cause you still were unsure about humans.. surely not all could be as kind as Eddie right?

You watched the two closely, hoping that the guy at the door would leave quickly, but when Eddie invited the guy into the trailer, your did what your instincts told you to.

You hid.

“Wait here a sec, imma have you meet someone but they need a minute” Eddie said.

But when he turned around to talk to you, you were gone, nothing but crumbs left at your spot on the armrest.

“Where did she go?” He muttered to himself, lifting a pillow, checking underneath it.

“Who?” You heard the guest ask.

“Okay, well, first off, can you promise me that you won’t freak out?”

“Eddie, your being weird… what’s going on?” The guest asked.

“Just promise okay?” Eddie insisted, whilst checking random hiding spots, trying to find you.

“Jeez, Kay I promise, you know I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, I’m sure I can handle it whatever pet you’ve adopted” he said.

“Well, uh, it’s not a pet, definitely not a pet…” Eddie began, scratching his neck. “It’s a.. she is a fairy”

“A what now?!”

“You promised you wouldn’t!” Eddie reminded.

The he guest paused for a second, before he glanced back at Eddie,

“So..a fairy?”

“Yes.” Eddie confirmed. “And she’s not super used to hanging out with humans, she has just about gotten used to Wayne… so my guess is that she’s hidden, and now we gotta find her.”

He agreed to help Eddie and they began turning over almost everything in search of you.

You watched them over the edge of the Garfield mug that you sat inside. They looked quite funny, as they rummaged around, just funny enough for you to let out a giggle.

The guest did react to it, but Eddie could recognise that sound anywhere.

“Hey Dustin? Could you check my desk? It’s a popular hiding spot..” Eddie lied, trying to get a moment alone with you.

Fortunately he agreed and stomped off towards the bedroom, and soon enough you felt the mug being lifted, and when you glanced up you saw a familiar face.

Eddie smiled down at you, instantly calming some of your nerves.

“Grew to nervous?” He guessed.

You nodded, shamefully admitting that you were.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, totally fine.” Eddie said, soothing your nerves. “It just my friend, he’s totally harmless, and he is looking forward to meeting you. Do you want to meet him?”

You pondered the question for a minute, but in the end you decided to trust Eddie and said.

“Okay, Eddie”

Eddie smiled down at you again, as he clutched the mug tenderly in both his hands.

“Hey Dustin! I found her” he called out, not taking his eyes of you.

The one who you now presumed was Dustin returned.

“Now, take it easy, she’s quite a shy little one.” He said, before holding out the mug and letting Dustin look down into it.

“Oh my god,” Dustin mumbled as you felt his gaze fall upon you. “This is awesome.”

You didn’t dare to look up at him, and instead stayed curled up in the mug.

Eddie could feel the apprehension and anxiety radiating off you, so he slipped his little finger into the mug. It took mere seconds until he felt you cling to it. He continued to talk to Dustin whilst he drafted a plan to get you to come out of your shell a bit more.

“Don’t you think you would’ve been more comfy in my hand, baby?” He asked.

“Yes please, Eddie” you said, taking him up on the suggestion instantly.

He plucked you out the mug by the wings and set you down in the palm of his hand, where you got to work with the activity you invented a couple of day before, spinning Eddies rings round his fingers. (Which was quite a task for someone your size)

The boys continued on with their conversation and you kind of zoned out.

“I know that I put an other dimensional monster in my tortious tank, but this, this is a new kind of weird.” Dustin said.

This made you look up, Eddie had promised that he was nice and now he called you weird…

You crossed your arms and huffed in his general direction.

“What’s got you all grumpy?” Eddie asked.

You didn’t answer, instead you shot Dustin a dirty look.

Eddie put the tip of his pointer finger under your chin, turning you to meet his eyes.

“I know you and somethings up, so can you please tell me so I can make it better?” Eddie asked.

You eyed Dustin who watched you in confusion and total awe, you didn’t want him to hear that the comment got to you. So instead of telling Eddie straight up you fluttered away and hid in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Sweetheart” Eddie said with a sigh.

Your eyes got all teary as you sat there clinging with both your arms around a strand of his hair.

“He called me weird” you mumbled.

“Oh, baby” Eddie said, picking you up, “ he didn’t mean it like that, right Dustin?”

You let your gaze slide between Eddie and Dustin.

There was some ruckus beneath that table and then Dustin exclaimed;

“Ow why did you kick …” he began before he made eye contact with Eddie, who lead his gaze to you. “I’m sorry, that true, it’s not you that’s weird, it’s the situation, you are truly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen”

You gave Eddie a look, as if to check if he was telling the truth, and when Eddie gave you a reassuring nod you smiled widely at Dustin.

“You should really come with Eddie to hellfire”Dustin suggested. “The others would go crazy”

“Now let’s take one thing at the time” Eddie said with a chuckle.

[devilat-thedoor]

Hands to Yourself

Hi loves🤍🤍

It’s currently 1:30am. I have been fighting to get this finished between my work schedule and life. It's barely proofread and shorter than I wanted it to be, but I can say that I’m quite content with how it turned out! I think I may keep the storyline going into a few more parts, but please let me know what you all think. I appreciate the feedback more than anything. Love you, babies💖

Word Count: 5.3K

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Alcohol consumption, Swearing, dom!Jake (that deserves a warning, right?), Oral (M!receiving), slight spit kink, f!reader x f!OC being flirty and touchy. i think that's it for now.

The music drifted through the room quietly while you finished getting dressed. Your hair fell in loose waves down your back as you untucked it from the neck of the pale pink crop top you pulled on. The blue bell bottoms you wore flowed down over your feet, drowning them in the denim. It had been so long since you’d taken a night off to go out and have fun. Jake had been busy with the boys, finalizing everything for their upcoming tour, so you took the opportunity to pick up extra shifts, to keep yourself busy. But when Jake crawled into bed last night, he offered the idea of going out for drinks tonight to unwind. All three of his brothers would be there. “It’ll be fun, you’ve been throwing yourself into work, you deserve a good night out, love.” He persuaded, his voice soft and sweet. He didn’t need to persuade though, you already knew you were going to agree.

Checking your lip gloss in the bathroom mirror, you called out, “Jake, can you come here for a sec?” He was standing in the bathroom doorway within a moment, his eyes raking over your legs, hugged so nicely by the jeans. You smiled to yourself, noticing the slight gape to his mouth, happy that they chose a casual bar for the night. “Can you help with my necklace?” You asked, handing him the chain that held a gold Wheel of Fortune tarot pendant. Your good luck charm. He waited for you to gather your locks into a hold before locking the chain around your neck, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder before pulling away.

His rough hands snaked around your front, pulling your back flush against his chest as he looked over your reflection in the mirror. His chin rested on your shoulder and you brought your hand up to cup his face. “I almost don’t want to go out anymore…” He trailed off, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants, “We could just stay in bed, they wouldn’t miss us.” His lips met your neck, enticing you to accept his proposition; and you would have had you not so badly needed time out of the house.

Your hands grabbed his, peeling them from your body, “We’ll have all day tomorrow to spend in bed.” You turned to face him and let your lips land on his in a soft peck. He pouted his lip when you pulled back to look at him, “Lover, I need a drink or two… or ten.” You smiled at him, batting your eyelashes until he returned the smile and broke away from you with an exaggerated huff. You followed him out of the bathroom, grabbing your jacket as you made your way to the front door to slip your shoes on.

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

Jake held the door open, ushering you inside the bustling bar room. It was a busy night, people moved in all directions, crowding the stools around the bar and the tables scattering the area. Some 70s or 80s music played through the speakers, you couldn’t quite make it out as your ears adjusted to the multitude of voices echoing throughout the room. The smell of cigarette smoke drifted through your nostrils, your eyes wandering over the crowd to find an empty table. Jake’s hand landed on the small of your back, forcing your attention to him as he pointed across the space to the pool tables, nestled in the back corner. You followed his finger to see the boys, waving you both over. A small smile curled at your lips, thankful that Danny had brought his girlfriend, Odessa. You absolutely adored her and were more than happy to have another woman there to keep you company while the guys were bullshitting.

As you began your walk towards them, Jake pulled at your hand, halting you. When you turned to face him, he leaned in, half shouting, “I’m gonna go open a tab, you want a gin martini?” He questioned, knowing your typical drink of choice. Your smile forced your eyes to crinkle, but before you could respond, he added, “Dry, of course.” His eyebrow raised with a smirk to his lip. Nodding your head, you pecked his cheek before moving towards the others at the pool table as he made his way to the bar.

Josh greeted you first when you stepped up to the table, wrapping you in a tight hug. “Y/N, it’s been ages!” He placed a kiss on both cheeks in his over-the-top, Joshy way. “You look absolutely radiant tonight!”

You couldn’t help but mirror his face-splitting grin. Just then, Odessa came up behind you, yanking you into her embrace. Her long, dusty red hair fell in a curtain around you. “Babe, you look so hot, what the fuck?!” She beamed, holding you at arms length to look you over. You took the time to admire how good she looked as well. She wore an oversized, faded black, vintage Fleetwood Mac t-shirt as a dress. It was riddled with tiny rips all over and she fastened a tan belt to cinch the waist and carve out her petite figure, pairing it with matching cowboy boots.

She was incredibly pretty, her red hair a stark contrast against Danny’s almost black hair as he came up beside her. “Dess, are you kidding me?” You held her hand above her head, forcing her into a spin, “you’re so fine! You need to take me thrifting with you one of these days. You always find the best stuff.”

Odessa gave you a toothy grin as you leaned in to Danny’s side, giving him a half hug. “Well if you weren’t working so much, we would be able to make plans…” She raised her eyebrows, giving an accusatory look. You put your hands up in defense, but before you could say anything, she piped up again, “OOOOH! Hang on, I need to introduce you to Sage!” She squealed before turning and rushing to the booth tucked in the corner behind the pool table. Your eyes followed her, catching sight of Sam, his back to you, leaning against the pool table, having a conversation with who you could only assume was Sage. Odessa hooked her arm around the other woman’s, dragging her in your direction. “Y/N, this is my best friend, Sage. Sage, this is Y/N, Jake’s lovely lady.” Odessa giggled and you could tell she was already a few drinks deep.

You smiled, reaching out to awkwardly shake Sage’s hand. She returned the gesture, before Odessa distracted her with light conversation, giving you the time to study her. She stood about 5’9”, her ashy brown hair hung straight, reaching the middle of her back. A light dusting of freckles, sprinkled over her nose and naturally blushed cheeks, making the green of her eyes pop beneath the low bar lighting. She was wearing a black, lacy bodysuit, paired with a short, red suede skirt that hugged her hips in a way that kept your attention for a moment too long.

Suddenly Jake was at your side, his voice snapping you from your thoughts, “Come back to earth, love.” He held your drink out to you as he sipped his beer. All you could do was meet him with a questioning look as you took the glass, hoping your face wasn’t too red. He chuckled quietly, “You just looked a little spaced out… You better not be thinking about work.” His hand found its place at the small of your back, leaning into you, and he left a kiss on your cheek, “Let loose tonight, babe. You deserve it.” He whispered before walking off to join his brothers at the pool table.

You decided to take your boyfriend’s advice and ‘let loose.’ But you may have overdid it a bit. You’d be cursing yourself with regret tomorrow, but when Odessa sent Danny and Sam to the bar for a few rounds of shots, you couldn’t help yourself. After about two hours in the bar, you’d scrapped the gin martinis after your second glass and opted for tequila sodas, per Josh’s suggestion, and whatever shots everyone was buying. You knew better than to mix your liquors, but you could’ve sworn everything was going great until Sammy had the bright idea for everyone to shoot a round of jagerbombs. That was when everything went downhill, though you wouldn’t reap those consequences until tomorrow.

The alcohol had your body buzzing. Danny and Odessa had left, calling their night early. Sage stayed, and you had hit it off pretty well with her, making friendly conversation, sharing jokes and finding mutual interests. She really was beautiful and funny and you found yourself enjoying her company quite a bit. It was a little after 11pm when the jukebox kicked on, Van Halen booming through the overhead speakers. You gasped, jumping up from the booth, nearly tripping on your own feet, “Jake, I wanna dance!” You practically fell into his arms, words slurring ever so slightly. “Come dance with me, pleeeease…” you drew out the plea, attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.

He straightened you to a standing position, laughing softly, “We’re in the middle of a game, but as soon as it’s over-” You cut him off, blowing raspberries in his face as you turned on your heel.

You leaned your elbows on the table, looking at Sage with glazed eyes, “You wanna dance?” The question came out flirtier than you intended, but she must not have noticed or wasn’t bothered by it. She grabbed your hand, standing from her seat and yanked you towards the crowded floor. The place was filled with middle aged men, eyeing the two of you as you swayed with the rhythm of the music. A few older women sat at the bar, giving you dirty looks, but you didn’t notice. The opening notes of ‘Feels Like The First Time’ rang out and it stirred something in you. You and Sage were pressed against each other, a mess of sweat and flowing hair and grinding hips. Her arms snaked around your neck as yours found her hips, pulling one another in tighter. As your bodies writhed together, you caught sight of Jake, his jaw clenched. He didn’t notice you watching him from over Sage’s shoulder, as he adjusted his dick in his jeans, looking around him to see if anybody else saw him do so. You caught your lip between your teeth, abruptly aware of the wetness pooling in your underwear.

Sage broke away from you, sweeping her hair from her forehead, as the song came to an end. “I’m gonna grab another round, be right back.” She half yelled over the music, allowing her fingers to graze your arm as she moved past you, towards the bar. You watched as she went, hips swaying with some intent. Of what, you weren’t sure. When you caught yourself staring, you shook your head, hoping to shake away the thoughts, before returning to your booth.

Jake stood, leaned against the pool table while Josh racked the balls and carried on an animated conversation with Sam. “Hi, lover.” You wrapped your arms around Jake’s torso, pressing your chest into him. You could feel his semi-hard erection in his jeans, causing you to add a little pressure with a roll of your hips. His hands shot up to grab your waist as he choked down a groan. You gave a sly smile, looking to see if his brothers were paying any attention, and dropped your hand to palm his length through the fabric, giving a light squeeze.

He gripped your wrist and forced it to your side, “Watch yourself.” It came out as a warning, but in your inebriated state, you didn’t pay it any mind and rolled your hips into him again. His arms wrapped around you then, locking you tight against him. He leaned down, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You practically fuck Sage on the dancefloor and then you want to come over here and try it with me?” He clicked his tongue, a low chuckle escaping his throat at the quiet gasp that fell from your lips. This man had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it. “I think you need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, love.” You felt his teeth nip your ear lobe and then there was nothing. Jake had let go of you, moving to pick up his cue and start the game.

Sage returned to the table with a tray of tequila shots. She handed you a small glass and you accepted it with a lazy smile. “Lime?” She offered, holding the slice up to you. Your eyes flicked to Jake as he stood, watching your every move. You don’t know why you did it, maybe his words from a moment ago had spurred you on, but you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to. You tipped the glass back, gulping down the burning liquid, and then moved forward, wrapping your lips around the lime wedge in Sage’s hand, sucking the juice from it while it sat in her fingers. She just stared at you. You couldn’t tell if she was mesmerized or shocked. Maybe both. But when you pulled away, she dropped the wedge onto the tray sitting on the table and reached to wipe the juice that dripped down your chin, her thumb grazing over your lip so softly. The world felt like it stopped, everything moving in slow motion.

“You guys gonna kiss or what?” Sam spoke from the opposite side of the pool table, breaking the tension. Josh smacked his arm and mumbled something under his breath. Jake had his eyes on you still, a slight incline to his lip, as he tipped the bottle of beer to his mouth. You couldn’t pull your eyes from his, standing frozen in place. You felt your skin heat under his stare and finally excused yourself to the bathroom. Flashes of Jake’s face plagued your thoughts. What was that expression? Anger? No… It was almost playful, challenging you. But what exactly was the challenge?

Taking a few minutes in front of the filthy mirror, you attempted to compose yourself. But as you reached for the door handle to exit the restroom, it was as though every drop of liquor you had consumed ravaged your body at once. You took your time stumbling back to the table. Your feet carried you without much help from your brain, driving your body into various people along the way. The muttered apologies falling from your lips were met with side eyes and angered frowns. When you made it back to the booth, you saw the long, chestnut brown hair and slid in next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He smelled so good, you nestled your nose against his neck, breathing him in. His scent forced your lids to flutter closed. Even after his warning to keep your hands to yourself, you just couldn’t. You let your hand land on his knee, slowly dragging your fingertips up his thigh. Weird. Wasn’t Jake wearing jeans… The thought left your mind quicker than it entered and you allowed your hand to drift further, now hovering over the bulge, prominent in his right pant leg. Your lips found the pulse point in his neck, leaving a kiss, before nipping at his jaw while your fingers lazily danced over his covered length. Just as a strangled groan crept up his throat, a pair of hands grabbed your waist, hauling you up and out of the booth.

You whipped around in confusion, your eyes landing on Jake. Wait no. That doesn’t make sense. How… "Jake, how did you-” You gawked at him, unable to finish your question. Slowly, your head turned back towards the booth that you had just been yanked from and fell upon the figure tucked in the back of it. There sat Sammy, his long, chestnut brown hair acting as a shield to cover the bright red blush overtaking his features. “Oh shit…” Were the only words to leave your lips before everything went black.

Your consciousness came back in blips, only allowing the smallest bits of memory to stick in your mind. Jake half carrying you out of the bar. “M’gonna be sick…” You murmured. He held your hair back with one hand and used the other to keep you steady. You’re not sure how long you spent emptying the contents of your stomach in the parking lot before it all went black again. Suddenly you were in the car, pulling into the driveway of you and Jake’s shared home. Then nothing. The last thing your conscious mind picked up was your boyfriend, rubbing calming circles on your back while you sat in bed, swallowing down the glass of water he’d given you.

——————————————————————————————

The morning sun glimmered across your eyelids, warming your face in the air conditioned room. You opened your eyes, acclimating to the bright streaks filtering through the window. Your limbs stretched out, and a soft hum vibrated from your throat as your muscles began to loosen.

Rolling over to find Jake, he was laying awake, scrolling through Instagram. “Good morning, beautiful.” He gave you a soft smile. You returned the smile and reached out to snuggle against him, but he pulled away, slipping out of the bed. Seeing your furrowed brow, he simply nodded his head toward the door, “I’m gonna take a shower.” He was padding out of the bedroom before you could argue.

The dull throb in your head was a lot more mild than it should’ve been, given the fact that you drank way more than intended last night. Dragging your body from the mattress, in search of ibuprofen, you made your way to the bathroom. Jake had left the door open, as if to invite you in. Stepping into the steam filled room, you went straight for the medicine cabinet, dumping four of the pills into your hand and tossing them in your mouth. You filled the cup that sat on the sink and swallowed the pills down, chugging the water to chase them. Placing the cup back on the counter, you picked up your toothbrush and turned to face the shower, mindlessly brushing your teeth. You could see Jake through the frosted glass of the doors, rinsing his hair beneath the stream, his fingers combing through his ends. Spitting the foam from your mouth, you put the toothbrush back in the holder and pulled your oversized sleep shirt over your head. You stepped closer to the shower, shedding your panties before pulling the door open. Jake rubbed the water from his eyes, turning to look at you. His eyes raked over your naked form and you felt a chill run through your blood at his hooded gaze, goosebumps prickling your arms. When he finally met your eyes, you could’ve sworn you saw a smirk on his lips. “Can I join you?” Your voice came out quietly. He did say anything, just turned to rinse the remaining conditioner from his hair. You took that as an open invitation and stepped in, closing the door. But as you reached to pull Jake towards you, he caught your wrist, dropping it to your side. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You questioned, the confusion evident on your face.

Jake moved back, pushing the shower door open and stepping out. “Nothing, love. I’m just finished up, you go ahead and shower.” He grabbed his towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist, leaving you alone, for the second time this morning, without another word.

You stood there, dumbfounded, for a moment. Why is he acting like this? Without even cleansing yourself, you turned the knobs, shutting the water off. Ripping a towel down from the rack, you stormed into your bedroom as you pulled the towel around your chest, securing it. Jake stood in front of his dresser, his own towel discarded on the bed. He was gliding deodorant on, when you entered the room. “Jake, are you mad at me or something?” Your voice echoed through the space, coming out louder than you meant.

“No, I’m not mad at you, Y/N.” He didn’t bother to look at you as he chuckled.

Moving towards him, you reached out to grab his arm and turn him to face you. But when your fingers hit his skin, he jerked away as though your touch burned him. “What the fuck, Jake?” You raised your voice, not allowing him the chance to answer, “Why won’t you let me touch you? What did I do?” Your pleading expression was met with his calm demeanor.

He took a slow step forward, eyes boring into you, and kept his tone even, “I told you that you needed a lesson in keeping your hands to yourself.” His fingers grazed your cheek as he tucked your hair behind your ear, “And after the shit you pulled last night…” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his hand moving to yank the towel from your body. “I think it’s time you learned.” The towel crumpled at your feet and Jake ran his index finger from your throat, down the space between your breasts, stopping just below your belly button and leaving a blazing hot trail in its wake. “What do you think, love?” His breath was warm, fanning over your face as he spoke.

The wetness that pooled between your legs was undeniable, causing you to squirm under his stare. “Whatever you want, Jake. I’ll do anything.” You whispered, aching to wrap your body around him.

He smiled at your response, cupping your cheek for a moment before his demeanor shifted. His eyes darkened, “Kneel.” He commanded. You obliged almost instantly, dropping to your knees, noticing that he was lazily pumping his growing erection. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. His hand stopped, falling to his side and you made a move to replace his hand with your own. “No hands.” He scolded, causing you to drop them into your lap. “I’ll tie them behind your back if I have to. Be good.” He waited for you to nod in understanding.

“I’ll be good, baby. Promise.” You knew how pathetic you sounded but you just wanted his hands on you. Wanted to taste him, feel him. You needed it and weren’t afraid to beg for it. “Please, baby…”

Satisfied with your plea and promise, his right hand weaved into your hair as you looked up to meet his eyes from where you rested on your knees below him. He brought his left hand to your chin, “You’re breathtaking.” he half-whispered, running his thumb over your plump bottom lip. “You know that, right?” You responded by allowing your tongue to roll out and flick over the rough pad of his thumb. Your gaze flicked from his face to his cock, resting at eye level with you. He was impossibly hard, every intricate vein visible and you ached to trace along them all with your tongue.

As if reading your mind, he tipped your chin up, forcing your eyes back to his. “You want it?” He questioned, a smirk playing on his lips as you nodded eagerly. His left hand dropped, “Then take it.” He nudged the back of your head toward him, right hand still tangled in your locks.

With your mouth practically watering, your focus went back to his cock. leaning forward, you pressed your lips to the head. but as you opened your mouth to take him in, his grip tightened on your hair, holding you back. Your brow furrowed, eyes searching his, silently questioning him, but his face only held a barely there, smug smile as he eyed you. Your attention returned to his length before you lunged forward, with more force this time, your lips just closing around the tip before he yanked you back, holding you in place. “Jake please…” You whined in frustration, the taste of his salty precum on the tip of your tongue from the short contact.

“I think you can do better than that, sweet girl.” he simply chuckled as he bent down to meet you face to face, that devilish smirk creeping across his features. “You want it so bad…work harder for it.” He spat the last part in a condescending whisper.

You continued to fight against his grasp, inching closer. His fist loosened, giving you a bit of slack which allowed your mouth to just barely wrap around the head of his length. Then he pulled you back again, your scalp beginning to ache from the tension. You were growing more impatient by the second and Jake knew that. “Y’gonna give up already, love?”

You wanted to slap the arrogant expression from his face when suddenly, a lightbulb flicked on in your head. No hands. You shifted your body, ass resting on the backs of your legs as you brought your hands behind your back, clasping them together. Looking up at him again, you kept direct eye contact, opening your mouth and letting your tongue hang out, leaving your throat open and relaxed for him.

Jake let out a sigh as he leaned down, “That’s my good girl.” He smiled, massaging his hand over your stinging scalp. Before he straightened to stand, he let a string spit fall from his mouth onto your awaiting tongue. Your body shuddered at the lewd action. Just as his spit began to drip from your tongue, he took his middle and ring finger and scooped the bead of saliva, forcing it into your mouth. His palm rested on your chin as his fingers slid deeper into your mouth. Your lips closed around his fingers, a gag threatening its way up. Jake could sense it and added pressure to the back of your tongue. “Relax your throat, Y/N.” He ordered. You closed your eyes, focusing on the taste of his skin, and allowed yourself to swallow around him. He hummed at the feeling, “Open up.” He pulled his hand away, tapping your cheek.

You complied, opening wide for him. He stepped forward, gathering your hair in his fist again, and taking the base of his cock in the other hand. You watched down the bridge of your nose as he pushed the tip past your lips. Your tongue flicked over the underside as he pushed further, a faint ‘fuck’ escaping his mouth. When he finally tapped the back of your throat he stilled, letting his head hang, his breath leaving in short huffs. You relaxed your throat the best you could, trying not to move out of fear that he’d pull away. You attempted to swallow the saliva pooling on your tongue, causing Jake’s hips to buck forward. His lips curled up into that evil smirk as he pulled your head back, slipping out of your mouth before driving back in with intent. He kept a steady pace, dragging your head back and forth by your hair.

When your eyes began to water, he pulled out for a moment, admiring the state you were in. Hair in tangles, face red and tear stained, lips and chin glistening with spit, chest heaving and mouth agape with heavy breaths. “You’re doing so well, pretty baby.” His touch was gentle as he praised you, cupping your cheeks. Before you could react, his hands grasped your head and drove his dick back into your mouth, more forceful this time. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to choke him down. His hips bucked relentlessly, fucking into your throat at a pace you could barely keep up with. Your hands ached to grab at him, to just feel his skin under your touch. But you held them back, opting to dig your nails into your own palms.

The spit was dripping from your mouth, coating your chin and neck and dripping onto your breasts. His cock twitched against your tongue and a violent gag roared from your throat. Jake groaned at the sound. He was close. Your jaw was starting to ache, but Jake’s thrusts were becoming sloppy. You timed his next thrust; When his tip made contact with the back of your mouth, you slipped your tongue out and flicked it over his balls. “Holy fuuuuck…” His eyes found yours as his mouth hung open. “Do it again.” It almost sounded like a plea leaving his lips. He drew out slowly before diving back in and you repeated the same gesture. His lids fluttered closed and his grip on your hair was almost painful as he buried himself in your throat. The short patch of hair at the base of his cock brushed the tip of your nose. A chorus of strangled moans and curses fell from his mouth as his climax overtook his body. The first string of his release hit you, forcing another gag to rip from your esophagus as you swallowed it. You hollowed your cheeks, gently bobbing your head to coax him back down to earth and he welcomed it. His hands rubbed over your scalp, a shudder rolling through his body.

When he finally softened, you let him fall from your lips. Jake moved to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing his breathing to calm. You sat watching him, you didn’t dare move until he held his out to you. “Come here, love.” It wasn’t a command, more of an offering. You stood, your legs shaking from being tucked beneath you, and slipped your hand into his. He pulled you down onto his lap, holding you close and placing a kiss to your lips. “Are you okay?” The question was laced with concern. He picked up the towel that sat behind him and wiped your neck and chest off.

You couldn’t hold back your smile as you watched him clean you up with the softest touch. “I’m okay, lover.” Your fingers trailed up his chest and over his shoulders before wrapping around his back. “But I don’t think I understood the lesson.” You giggled at his playful eyeroll, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “Maybe we can go over it again later?” He couldn’t stop the grin that cracked across his face at your inquiry.

He pulled you in for another kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Let’s talk about it over breakfast.” He stood up, placing you on your feet. “You need some food in your stomach before you get sick.” Jake pulled a t-shirt from his dresser, tossing it to you.

“Okay, but I want waffles.” You pulled the shirt over your head before moving to your dresser to grab a pair of underwear. “And maybe you can fill me in on what exactly I did last night that was sooo bad.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Uhhhhh…” You stared at the ceiling, trying to think back to the last memory you had of the night. “I remember asking you to dance with me, but you wouldn’t leave the pool table.” You stated matter-of-factly.

He smirked, “But you still got to dance…” He trailed off, waiting for you to finish his thought.

You thought harder, flashes of Sage’s body grinding with yours, creeping into your mind. “Oh. With Sage…” You searched for more pieces of lost memory, but came up short. “I can’t remember anything past that.” You raked your hand through your hair as you looked back at Jake.

He smiled to himself before strolling out of the room. He called from the hallway, “I’ll fill in the blanks while we cook. But I don’t think Sam’s gonna be around for a while.” Jake’s laugh echoed through the house.

“Wait, what happened to Sammy?”

READ PT 2

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Hi there if possible could we get a Monkey reborn where he is Jealous please?<3

I think that Reborn Wukong is the most easily jealous out of the four Wukongs that I'm going to write. Make this before the movie. Definitely will be making a fluff taking place after the movie and involving Fruitie. Enjoy!

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He couldn't help it. He was just… naturally territorial, especially when it came to you. In his defence, though… How dare that bastard even look at you like that? How exactly? With his eyes. That punk that ran the Inn you all were resting at for the past three days had no right to look at his goddess or have the audacity to openly flirt with you in front of him. 

Since you all checked in, whatever his name was had continuously given you the sweet eye, but you either didn't notice it or didn't care. In Wukong’s mind, your innocently pure soul didn't see it, since you didn't.stop.talking to what's his face. He wasn't anything to look at really, Wukong was taller than him and compared to the Monkey King, the human was a twig, and that was saying something.

I could take him out easily. He thought to himself as he watched with narrowed eyes as you spoke with the male with Wujing. His punishments would be limited considering his master already went to bed, so the only thing he had to worry about was your wrath. Sun Wukong, The Great Sage Equal To Heaven, the Monkey King, the Demon King… couldn't stop himself from boiling over with pure jealousy at the fact of human male audacity.

“(Y/n), can I talk to you for a second?” He asked through gritted teeth as he tried to remain calm. 

“In a sec,” 

You should've taken this as a sign, but the conversation with the mysterious stranger was too exciting, you didn't see the signs. The poor Demon King was seething and on the verge of dragging you away by force, but he knew better than to do that. 

“(Y/n),” he once again tried to get your attention. 

“Can't you see we’re talking?” the male looked at Wukong in slight annoyance, yet you still didn't see the red flags… not till it was too late. 

“Wukong!” you scolded and were about to run over to check on the poor guy who was kicked through three trees, but Wukong grabbed you by the arm and dragged you away. “Wukong, listen to me!”

“No, you listen!” he finally snapped as he turned to look at you. “I don't know if you realized this, (Y/n), but you're mine,”

“I know that,” you always got so flustered when he reminded you of that fact, especially when he said it in that growl that gave you goosebumps.

“That punk was flirting with you, and you let him!”

“What are you talking about? He wasn't flirting with me,” You were kinda oblivious to others flirting, getting used to Wukong being the only one to flirt with you. He sighed heavily and turned away from her. 

I should've known… He thought to himself. 

“It was obvious to everyone that he’s been flirting with you since we got to this piece of shit temple.”

“C'mon, Sunny, that's not nice,” you said and got him to release you.

That wasn't true… was it? You really did think he got a bit too comfortable with you, but you just thought he was being hospitable to a travelling guest… apparently, not everyone saw it that way.

In all honesty, since you started dating Wukong a little over a year ago, the advances of other men seemed to naturally filter out of your head. You only saw Wukong in that light, there was only him for you and you for him. Of course, he knew this, but he has had too many restless nights about some human man taking you away from him.

“What the hell was that for?!” The human looked at the Demon King with narrowed eyes as he stormed back over holding his arm. 

“You're getting too comfortable with my woman,” he snarled as he got in the male’s face. “So I gave you a light warning.”

“Light? You almost killed me!”

“But I didn't,” he tilted his head slightly. “Is that little body so weak it can't withstand a little kick?” he raised a brow slightly.

“Okay,” you immediately got between the two to avoid your boyfriend giving the male any more ‘gentle warnings’. “That's enough.”

“I'm just talking,” he looked at you with a much gentler expression. He turned back to the human male with a glare when he scoffed in disgust at the new information. Wukong’s manly instinct was right, the bastard was just trying his hand to bed you. 

“You're actually with this hairy demon?” he looked at you in scorn. 

“Pardon?” you couldn't help but question him. 

“I didn't think a beautiful girl like you would degrade yourself being with an unwanted mongrel-” Wukong's mouth opened slightly in shock as he looked from the male you'd just punched to you. 

“You better not dare speak ill of him ever again,” you warned, giving the man a menacing glare that pleased and made the Monkey King smirk at you. He could kiss you at that very moment. “Unwanted mongrel? He's mine. He may be a demon, but he is more wanted and loved than you could ever dream, and with a personality like yours, I understand why you're single.”

He'd never thought it possible, but he was immediately more in love with you at that moment than before. Yes, he was yours, all yours. Unaware, Wukong straightened up while his prideful expression turned to the man holding his now swollen cheek. He knew how it felt to be hit by you because he had been hit many times before. Even though you would feel bad and apologize when you hit him too hard, treat him like your little baby afterwards.   

“Whatever,” the male scoffed and walked away, not wanting to risk either of you hurting him more. 

“Big jerk,” you grumbled and puffed your cheeks slightly in frustration. He smiled slightly at your display before he took the hand you punched the guy with and kissed each knuckle softly… which not only calmed you down but made you extremely flustered.

“That's my girl,” he smirked a bit at you before he intertwined your fingers with his. He couldn't help that he was protective, he just didn't want to lose you. You were his everything, his anchor, his peace, and his love. 

“Wukong~” 

Oh, no… He knew that tone and, as he looked at her, that smirk. 

“What is it?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know what you were going to ask.

“You wouldn't happen to be… jealous, would you?”

“No,” he huffed and folded his arms. “I just don't like that some bastard thinks that he can flirt with you in front of me.”

“That's jealousy,” she chuckled, but hugged his torso and buried your face into his chest. “Foolish Monkey King. Don't you know that you're the only person I’ll ever love?”

“Yeah… but I'm not a person” he mumbled stubbornly, trying to ignore you, but his blush gave him away. He found comfort in both your words and your embrace. You could tell that the demon king was starved for touch and affection. He was weak against your simplest advances.

“Wukong, look at me. Come here,” you said as you reached for his face. Instead of lowering himself as you wanted, he picked you up by your thighs and brought you to his level.

“Hm?” He tilted his head, smug as ever to see your expression as he held you in his arms.

“Look, I don't care if you think you're just a devious demon that only does wrong… I know that you have the purest heart and soul. I love you, you stupid demon, nothing and no one will ever change that,”

You hugged him tightly, making him tense, but quickly relaxed and buried his face into your neck. You always knew just what to say to warm and make his stone heart, which he swore he didn't have, race and have him weak to you, just puddy in your hands. 

“I love you too, peach.”

“You don't need to be jealous, especially not of someone like him,” she assured, and though you doubted mere words soothed his worries, they did. 

“Good.” he tightened his grip a bit. Because you're mine.

“I am…” You smiled and held his face as you pulled back. “And you're mine.” That made him smirk at you before he carried you to bed to get some… sleep, and cuddle… a lot.