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#leave him be he needs to fix his mascara!!!!!!
ihavethedreamies · 21 hours
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Versace Royal | Hyunjin
Hwang Hyunjin - Stray Kids
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~4.3k
Pairing: Idol! Hyunjin x Idol! Older! AFAB! Reader
Genre: Request, Idolverse, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended)
Summary: Hyunjin and you are both international ambassadors for Versace and the rumors are put to rest when you announce you are both officially dating at a Versace event.
Author's Note: Got a request for this! I'm so happy that one of you liked my stuff enough to want me to write something for you!
Also I am working on the historical AU still, but I'm low-key working for my uncle doing something so...
P.S. I would have had this done and up earlier today, but I had to watch the Chiefs game even though I only watch for Pacheco (#10) and he got a broken leg.
Also, Winwin is in this! Just briefly, I like to wiggle him in where I can.
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Shit." You grumbled to yourself, looking in the mirror and scrubbing over your tooth with your finger to get the lipstick stain off.
"Here." Your stylist shuffled over to fix the error and as you held still for her, your eyes flitting over to Hyunjin. He was sitting in an armchair of the dressing room you two were assigned, scribbling on his tablet. He didn't have the jacket of his outfit on yet, sitting in just his tank top. Your eyes couldn't help but trace over his exposed arms, then back up to the slight furrow of his brow, the frown marring his beautiful face. Your stylist pulled back and she helped you get the dress you were to wear over the full-piece shapewear you had on.
"You don't need this you know." Your stylist whispered and you shrugged.
"I just wear it like a slip, I can't risk someone else trying to shoot up my skirt again." You looked at yourself in the mirror, not really loving your hair. It was pulled back into a tight low ponytail, and it made your facial features look too harsh.
"Sorry." The other woman whispered as she touched up your makeup. Your eyes flitted to Hyunjin again, his hair slicked back in a similar manner, but it looked good on him.
"Uh." His voice brought your attention back to him from your reflection in the mirror, a ding coming from his tablet.
"What?" You didn't bother hiding the apprehension in his voice.
"People already know we're here together." He sighed and you rolled your eyes so hard you worried you messed up your mascara.
"Not too surprising, we were on the same plane." You shook your head and when it was determined you were ready, the stylist moved on to Hyunjin.
"I don't wanna~" He whined, begrudgingly getting up from the armchair to sit at the vanity. As he shuffled toward you, you smiled at his bored look.
"Hold on." He paused you and so you halted, and he brushed something off the shoulders of your dress, then ran his hand over your smoothed hair.
"Careful, someone might think we're dating." You tried to hide your smile.
"We are dating." His deadpan tone nearly made you ruin your lipstick, but you halted your mouth before you stuck your tongue out like you had planned. Taking his place in the armchair, you couldn't help but glance at his still-on tablet. The article was open, and the title made you sigh.
"The Prince and Princess of Versace?" It seemed the name had left the K-Fanbase and had spread to even the international fashion press. It made you two seem more like brother and sister if you were the 'heirs' of Versace though. The article was topped with a picture of both of you with Donatella, but you two weren't in matching clothes in that one like you would be that day. Clicking your tongue, you grabbed the device and were about to look and see if there were any more articles, but you noticed his drawing app open. Looking up at him glaring at himself in the mirror, setting his intense expression for the night, you opened it, the image making you coo.
"You're drawing me?" You laughed at the glare he sent to you then.
"I always draw you." Hyunjin huffed and you giggled, wiggling in your chair and continuing to look at the news. Finding another article along the same lines, you drifted down to the comments, and your heart fell. Not only were there a bunch of his fans bashing you for what seemed like just standing next to him, even your fans were being mean too.
'He doesn't deserve her. She should date an actor.'
'He's the tallest in SKZ, but she still doesn't have to wear heels with him.'
'There's tons of other celebs and models there she could get, why go for another idol? Take some steps up girl.'
"I'm suing." You sneered.
"Stop reading comments." Your boyfriend scolded and you sniffed but relented.
"Don't wrinkle that, please, (Y/N)." The stylist then scolded you as well and you adjusted your posture. A knock on the door prompted a grunt from the man and a hum from you and his manager poked his head in the room.
"Donatella wants a photoshoot before the event." He announced and you sighed. Made sense. Your stylist hurried up her task and you helped her adjust and tweak Hyunjin's outfit once he got it on.
"Careful, people might think you like me or something." He teased you and you pinched him through the fabric of his tank top, and he yelped, making you giggle.
"Well, maybe I do…"
"Don't kiss him!" The stylist snapped and you halted. Yeah, red on his mouth would be a little too obvious, and she would have to fix both of yours make up as well.
"If some influencer tries to flirt with you, I'm going to scream." He grumbled, face still close to yours, also a bit cranky he couldn't kiss you.
"Same. But we just pretend I don't know English." You shrug playfully.
"You spoke with Donatella in English in the last video, good luck with that." You swore under your breath, finally letting go of his jacket that's gold and black fabric matched your dress's. Moving to go around him and start to leave the dressing room, he grabbed your wrists, pulling you back to him.
"No, no, come here one sec." He hauled you even closer, pressing you to him, nose barely grazing yours. His eyes met yours and the sharp look made you swallow hard, and the corner of his mouth twitched before he controlled it.
"Don't fucking wrinkle it!" The stylist more or less pulled him away from you and ran her hands over both of your garments to make sure they were fine.
"Go, and don't stop in a closet on the way!" She shoved you both out to be led away by your managers.
~~~
"Can you put and rest your arm on her shoulder, like with your elbow bent?" The shoot director motioned and Hyunjin followed suit, his forearm laying on your shoulder.
"Good!" You were glad that modeling shoots didn't want you to smile like all the pictures your mother took when you went home for Chuseok. Having him lean a bit on you made it harder to balance your own pose, legs crossed, all weight laying on one leg. You were in short heels, but they were still thin, and it made it harder to stay steady. You were glad the company never wanted your group to dance in heels, but your group had a more badass concept most times and so you got to wear boots or even sneakers.
"Careful." Hyunjin whispered in your ear, feeling your body shake a bit and he relaxed the pressure he was putting on you. You both followed the prompts of the director while the photographer continued shooting.
"What if we go with the prince and princess idea?" Your eyes flitted to Donatella, urging her with your gaze to shut up. She smiled playfully and your nose twitched.
"Like?"
"Get that chair, no, the fancy one!" The designer herself motioned and some staff started to move in a black velvet chair, and she came onto the set. She sat in the chair and then the director got the hint. You both were directed to stand behind and to the side of the chair, your hands on the back, postures straight. Just like the heirs to a queen.
"You saw that article?" You asked her when the shoot was done, and she smiled.
"Let's get going to the event now, I can be late but you two can't." She left to attend to who knows what and you gave Hyunjin a look and he huffed a laugh.
"(Y/N), Hyunjin." Your manager waved you over, his was on the phone.
"What?" He had spoken in a hushed tone, so you did too.
"The company wants you to announce your relationship tonight. They want to get ahead of the rumors."
"Tonight?" You hissed. There was no time to prepare, and the comments were already tearing both of you to shreds. The older man shrugged and finally Hyunjin's manager got off the phone.
"We're going to work with a few reporters that are here for Korean magazines, and they'll do a more or less scripted interview quick and that'll be it." The other manager informed, and you nodded, feeling a bit less nervous. You looked at your boyfriend then and he didn't look fazed.
"What?" You were still whispering.
"Maybe then guys will leave you be?" He was obviously still upset about the influencer that was flirting with you at the last event.
"Are you intimidated by a TikTok model?"
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't like them trying to get you back to their hotel room."  He was talking a little louder than you really wished for him to be, but he was using Korean so…
"You're getting me back to your hotel room, though?" You sent him a coy look and he rolled his eyes.
"No, we're going separate, then using the little door that’s in between them." He wiggled his finger back and forth and you exhaled a laugh.
"Let's just go to the red carpet…shoot…place." What did you call a red carpet than had no carpet, let alone a red one?
~~~
You waited to go up to get your photo taken at the Versace logo wall they had set up outside the runway hall, taking the chance to look around at who else was there. You recognized only a few people, and your heart sank a little not seeing a very familiar face.
"I thought Sicheng said he's done Versace shows before…" You clicked your tongue crankily, a group of three was better than just you two. Especially since Winwin was already a friend.
"(Y/N)." Hyunjin's voice caught your attention, and you strode forward to join him at the logo. The official and press photographers took a few pics and then Hyunjin moved on so you could do the solo shots.
"They could've put her in something shorter." You heard a voice murmur from the next spot in line and you shot a side glance over to look. Some guys with too chiseled of features and too greasy hair. Just pretend you don't know English. Just because your last interview with the designer herself was in English didn't mean everyone had seen it. They were probably famous or something, but they weren't even in Versace, so they were just guests or something. After the photographers thanked you, you nodded a bow and moved on, trying not to dash over to your boyfriend.
"Stupid dudebros." You huffed, adjusting your ponytail back behind you instead of over your shoulder.
"How old are you, noona?" Hyunjin teased and you shot him a look that made him laugh.
"I'm only a few years older, shut up." You told him not to call you that after you started dating since the other boys but Chan and Minho did as well.
"What'd they say?"
"Thought my dress could be shorter."
"Surprised they weren't wanting to see your tits."
"What tits?" You huffed, starting to lead him toward the actual runway hall and he scoffed.
"Just cuz' you're not stacked like Jihyo-noona doesn't mean you have no boobs." He sniffed and you shook your head, finding your designated seats at the side of the runway and sitting down. You adjusted your dress and set the bag they gave you along with it in your lap, crossing your ankles to the side. Every time you sat like that you thought of the Princess Diaries movie.
"You would know."
"I would know."
"Do you have any idea what the reporters will ask?" You moved on, still speaking quietly despite using a language most people likely did not know.
"No." He shot you a soft glance, "don't worry, we'll handle it together."
Through the fashion show, you tried to look genuinely interested, brain still looping on the press interview later.
"Stop looping." Hyunjin bumped you with his elbow as there was a gap between models. You took a deep breath and then let it out, genuinely noting the fabric of the purple dress the next model had on.
~~~
"You're shaking." Hyunjin wanted to just wrap his arm around you, or hug you, he could tell you were getting anxious. Normally press interviews were fine, but you were normally with your group, and you weren't the leader, just the eldest.
"I know." You desperately wanted to bite your thumbnail, that at least eased the strain on your teeth of your clenched jaw. But you had fake nails on and couldn't ruin them. You two were waiting for the specified reporters to show up and you wanted to bury and hide in his chest but couldn't. Even after the announcement you couldn't, it was too brazen of an act. Like it was muscle memory, when the press showed up, your shaking stopped, and you adopted a more even facial expression.
"(Y/N), how do you feel about being called the Versace Princess?" First question. Of course. Your manager got a look, and he shrunk a bit and you put on a practiced smile.
"I can't complain being called a Princess." Good.
"Hyunjin?" Same thing.
"Not the first time I've been called a prince."
"You two are matching today, did you know you would be?" The reporter was still looking at him.
"Yes, but I think five other people have the same pattern on." He joked.
"(Y/N), what was your favorite piece in the show?" A new reporter. You both answered a few more fashion-focused questions for the fashion magazine reporters, then you finally got the first nail-biter.
"There have been rumors going around for a while that you two are dating. Is there any merit?" You looked at your manager and he nodded.
"Well…maybe." You smiled softly, looking down and Hyunjin stepped a bit closer.
"We thought coming with matching outfits made that a bit obvious." Your boyfriend added and the flashes from the camera's increased and you felt more eyes than before going to you.
"So, you two are dating?" Deep breaths.
"Yes." The reporters started murmuring and you were led to believe they knew beforehand, but they clearly didn't. Some were already typing on their phones, and you swallowed hard.
"Okay, if there are any more questions, they can be referred to JYP Entertainment." Your managers stepped in and the motioned for you two to sneak off and head toward the after party that was in the next building over.
~~~
"Oh, thank you." You gratefully took the glass of champagne from the waiter that immediately came over as you both entered the building for the after party. Hyunjin took one as well and you took a sip, then grimaced at the taste.
"You've never liked wine." Hyunjin huffed a laugh, and you sneered at him, then downed the rest. You set the empty glass on another waiter as he passed and headed straight for the food.
"These portions are too small." You grumbled, not even knowing what most of the little appetizers were.
"Don't eat that one." Hyunjin stopped you, mouth full of something, before you grabbed what looked like a little sandwich.
"Why?"
"It's not good." He shook his head, and you ended up just grabbing what you hoped was a cookie. Tasted like one anyway.
"There you two are!" Donatella's voice caught both of your attention, and you felt immediately calmer with her there.
"So, it’s official? Everyone knows now?"
"You knew we were dating before?" Hyunjin asked her and she gave him a bored look.
"I just wish we didn't have to be the ones to announce it." You shook your head, looking around nervously.
"Keep an eye on her, some of the guests have been saying some…unsavory things." The designer warned and you shook your head as she moved on to mingle more. At the last event there was a bunch of horny internet celebrities, and it seemed they were present that  day as well.
"Hyunjin!" Your boyfriend's manager called to the man and waved for him to come over.
"(Y/N), stay there, it would be suspicious if you both went missing." He told you and you froze in place. Watching them leave with wide eyes, you huddled closer to the food table, hoping to appear invisible.
"So, you're a K-pop girl or something right?" You flinched, turning to look at who approached. You couldn't place his accent, and you had no idea who he was to go off of that.
"Uh, yes. You are…?" You really wanted a drink but there was only champagne and wine. He told you his name and when no recognition passed over your face, he scoffed slightly but readopted his ‘charming’ expression.
"So, you know Blackpink?" You tried not to roll your eyes, watching him pick something to eat. His suit looked too small for him, and he had an arrogant aura. He crooked an eyebrow with a smolder, and you forced a smile.
"Um, no. I don't."
"BTS though right?"
"Um, no."
"Isn't your friend in BTS?" He motioned vaguely to the side and your brow twitched in annoyance.
"No, he's in the group Stray Kids."
"They were at Coachella." He pointed to you like he figured it out, smirking around his sip of champagne.
"No. That was ATEEZ." You hated dealing with people like him and it seemed he was mixing his ignorance with arrogance.
"Were they the ones that had Ryan Reynolds in their music video?"
"Yes." You smiled a bit more; actually glad he figured it out.
"What is your group called?" You begrudgingly told him.
"So, you like sing and dance and stuff."
"Well, um, yes." You looked around you, hoping and praying that anyone would come, but mostly Hyunjin or your manager.
"You the leader?"
"No, the eldest."
"How old are you?" He looked you up and down and you winced, feeling nauseated. You felt a familiar presence behind you, and you relaxed some feeling them. He didn't say anything, and you turned, slightly surprised to see Sicheng and not Hyunjin.
"I didn't know you were here?" You asked in Korean then and he was staring the guy down. For being so cute and pretty he was good at looking mad.
"We didn't make the runway." He told you and the other man huffed.
"This your boyfriend then?" He looked at Winwin patronizingly. You rolled your eyes.
"No, I am." Both you and Sicheng relaxed, and the annoying man turned, taking a step away when Hyunjin shoved past him.
"Thanks, hyung." He whispered to Sicheng who nodded and took a few steps away to grab something to eat.
"Is Ningning here?" You turned to him then, letting Hyunjin block you from the jerk.
"No, sorry. Who is that?" He nodded at the offender, wrinkling his nose at the food options. You told him and he shook his head, having no idea either.
"If you ever want to know what it feels like to really be treated like a woman, Miss (Y/N), I'm always available." He called around Hyunjin and you hated hearing your name come from him.
"Fuck off." You hardly ever heard your boyfriend sound that angry; he must have learned the tone from Minho.
"Excuse me!" A girl's voice drew everyone's attention and a few younger women who were probably beauty influencers shuffled up with pads of paper.
"Can we get you three's autographs?" You were grateful for the distraction and you each took turns signing for the three girls. The jerky man tried to take the pen next from Hyunjin and one of the fans shot him a look.
"Who are you?" This put a hard blow on his ego, and you held back a laugh, thanking the girls as they trotted away.
"He left." Hyunjin sighed, stepping closer to you, pressing his chest to your shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Thank you, oppa." You smiled at Winwin, and he smiled back.
For the rest of the after party you were able to avoid any more assholes, they seemed to not want to come over with both of the K-pop boys with you.
"I'm so fucking tired." You groaned, tapping your keycard against the lock of your hotel room and your boyfriend hummed in agreement, entering his own room. The door between the rooms was already open and he ended up just coming to your side and flopping on the bed.
"You'll wrinkle it." You warned, and he whined, getting off the bed  and immediately stripping down to his underwear.
"Jinnie." You huffed in amusement, picking up the garments and when you stood back up from crouching, he was already wiggled under the blankets. He hadn't even untucked them from under the mattress. You shook your head, hanging up his clothes in the garment bag, then removing your own piece and adding it.
"I'm showering." You told him and he didn't respond.
"I'm leaving the door unlocked!" You called and you could hear him wrestling to get out from the comforter as you laughed. You had just let your shapewear fall before he shoved the door open and your back hit the sink counter when he pinned you to it. His lips quickly swallowed yours, no longer needing to care about the transfer of lipstick. You whined, fingers cascading over the skin of his base torso, tongue trying to keep up with his. When he pulled away you took the chance to spin him around and pin him to the counter, laying kisses over his neck and chest, leaving red lip marks all over his skin.
"Wait, (Y/N), you don't-" He sighed as you sank to your knees, leaving fainter marks on his tummy. His cock was half-hard, and you palmed over it through his boxer briefs, and he grunted. You kissed over the fabric making him nearly whimper, and you whined yourself when you pulled his undergarment down, his fully hard cock springing out. You hummed, licking your lips, then eagerly sucked the tip into your mouth.
"Shit." Sweat had already broken on his forehead, and he leaned further back to steady himself, the cold marble of the sink made him shiver. When the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, you used your hands to hold the other half of his cock, bobbing your head. Hyunjin reached out, managing to find the shower knob and turn the water on, getting it warm. His hand petted over your hair, then tightened, pulling you back. The sting at your scalp made you shudder in delight, your dazed eyes meeting his sharp ones.
"Get in, face the wall." He pulled you up and you were glad the shower was a walk-in. You sighed as the hot water met your tense shoulders, but you squeaked when he joined, pressing his chest to your back. Your breasts pressed to the still cold wall of the shower, and you squeaked as his fingers met your cunt.
"What got you so wet?" Hyunjin hummed in your ear, and you swallowed, trying to think of how to get words out.
"W-when you told that guy to fuck off."
"So long ago?" He chuckled, removing his fingers too soon, making you huff. Before you could even think of complaining or pleading for him, he had bucked his hips, burying his fat cock in one thrust all the way. Your breath left your lungs, the burning sting sending shocks of pleasure up your spine and down your legs. There was almost no room between you two as he pressed even closer, arms wrapping around your middle and holding your hip. He let you take a few breaths to adjust, kissing your neck, the heat of the water and his cock inside you set your blood on fire. One of hands moved to cup your breast, kneading the flesh and you whimpered.
“These are perfect.” He pinched your nipple and you squeaked, then whimpered.
"M-move." You were nearly up on your tip toes, body wound so tight.
"Oh, fuck!" You gasped as Hyunjin began fucking you in earnest, not building, battering his cock deep inside you. Your cunt spasmed as you gasped for air, fingers not able to find anything to hold onto on the slick wall, cheek pressed to the cold tile.
"You're just perfect, (Y/N). Your pussy was made for me, no one else can have it." His hand splayed over your lower tummy, the sensitive skin there twitching under his palm.
"I don't want anyone else to anyway." You managed to get out, his cock kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.
"Cum for me (Y/N), yeah?" He hummed as he felt the familiar clenching of your gummy walls, his fingers rolling over your clit, sending you over the edge. Hyunjin filled you as deep as he could, grinding into you to help you ride your high, trying to fight his own.
"Fuck, please Hyunjin!" You whimpered, your orgasm seeming to last for hours.
"Well," he chuckled breathily, "if you insist." He bucked his hips a few more times and you both sighed as his hot cum painted your core white. Panting, you couldn't tell whether his skin was slick from the water or his sweat, but either way you both needed to actually shower.
~
"You know, I don't mind being the Prince and Princess of Versace." He told you softly as you laid in bed together, bundled up in your pajamas. Round two and probably three would occur otherwise and you both needed to be up early for your flight.
"No?"
"It's more like Prince William and Princess Kate than us being siblings."
"We're not married, Hyunjin." You huffed and he nodded sleepily.
"For now."
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Master-Master List
Stray Kids Master List
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buwheal · 5 months
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Not sure if you ever mentioned, but what IS your favorite flavor? I can't tell from looking at the cake.
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dumbandfunn · 5 months
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how cowboy!rafe and spoiled!reader met
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it was a usual friday night in the local bar, the few regular rowdy ranchers and the occasional couple passing through just to grab a drink for their journey. it was nothing new. not until the door swung open more aggressively than usual and low and behold you stood in your pretty white sundress, mascara stained under eyes and demanding somebody to tell you “where the hell you were.” rafe had been on high alert the minute he lay his eyes on you, telling his usual drinking crowd to shut up while he took a sip of the whiskey he had been clinging to the entire night. you looked so helpless, fragile, rambling to the bar tender who seemed to not care about anything but how low the cut on your dress was. his eyes were trailing from where you had perched yourself back to the pervy wandering heads from the countless men who had all fallen silent at the chaos you had created from nothing. “are you even listening to me,” you pout, lip still wobbling whilst you slammed a hand down against the wooden counter. “i need somebody to help me, im lost and—” you sniffle.
an older man sitting across from you had piped up with an “ain’t nobody gon’ help you in these parts little lady, not with that attitude,” and that only made you cry harder. “but i’m lost,” you huff out, your tears quick to turn to the sweetest angry pout rafe had probably ever seen as you turn to the few people who were only watching in amusement, oh how they hated pretentious city girls. rafe’s eyebrows were raised, maybe it was then, as you started to bicker with a rancher twice your size that he needed to know more about you. and why the hell a girl like you was in a place like this in the first place. you left with a pretty loud bratty scream after nobody showed any interest in helping you, the distant laughs of the scene you’d caused echoing behind you as you sniffled back your tears and kicked at the car that had put you in the unfortunate situation in the first place. it wasn’t like rafe to follow, especially after someone like you, not that he came across anyone like that much in the first place. a clearly spoiled, city princess. maybe it was just the little white dress you were wearing, maybe he was just as pervy as the rest. he just couldn’t leave a little helpless thing like you to your own devices in a place he knew too well. or maybe he just needed you the second his pants got a little tighter when you were leaning across the bar a few minutes prior.
but less than two seconds after your tantrum he was hot on your heels, waving off the whistles that followed when the doors swung behind him. “so y’need help?”
a knight in shining armour, just a minute too late, it was tantrum city now after not getting your way.
“not from any of you anymore,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at the young man who took a small step closer, taking his hat off and raising both hands up in defense, “well, you didn’t choose the best place to come cryin’ for help, alright, s’all i’ll say doll.” “—so y’gonna tell me what happened or you just gon’ sit here cryin’ all night,” he mutters out. you frown up at him, clearly in a conflict about standing your ground or getting out of the hell your car had broken down in. maybe your stubbornness had gotten the better of you, how you turned your nose up at him and quickly looked away, only for a hand to land firmly on your jaw a minute later, squishing your cheeks and staring you down with those stern blue eyes. “i told you this not the place to come cryin’ for help, s’tell me whats wrong before i go back inside and leave you here all on your own, hm? you want that?”
you shook your head almost immediately, eyes widened and lips parted. nobody had spoken to you like that in your entire life. and the way your eyebrows creased and your lip started to vibrate again, rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you. “my car broke down, can you fix it” you whisper.
“they don’t teach you manners in the city?”
you managed to squeak out a please, just as his free hand reached to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, licking his thumb and swiping the clumps of mascara from under your eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard was it doll?” and you shook your head again, nervous and chewing down on your bottom lip. he really did have you right then and there, someone who could handle your tantrums and someone who could knock the attitude from your lungs with something as simple as an eyebrow raise.
everyone was shocked to see you curled under rafe’s arm the following friday in his usual corner of the same bar, feet swinging and dazed. nobody would dare say a bad word about you again.
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princessbrunette · 6 months
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rafe had been trying to pick a fight with bunny!reader all day due to his bad mood. however, due to her being a little ray of pink glittery sunshine — it just wasn’t happening.
first, the problem was the pink glittery dildo in your dresser that he found whilst snooping due to boredom, waiting for you to be done in the shower. he argues with himself whilst you sit at your vanity, giggling and happily doing your makeup.
“you tellin’ me you need that shit? ‘cus… ‘cus if that’s the case, don’t come begging for dick every thirty minutes when clearly you could be fixing your own problems.” he rants, huffing as you carefully brush mascara through your eyelashes.
“its not the same! pluuuus, i haven’t used that thing in ages. dont even know where you found it, daddy.” you’re clearly amused and it’s making things worse, locking eyes with your boyfriend through the mirror as he stands with his hands on his hips.
“think i’m stupid, right? if you weren’t still using this thing you would have thrown it in the trash.”
you spin on your stool, giving him a convincing pout. “i only use it when you go away on business trips with your dad, ‘cos i just miss you so much.”
he blinks, clearly not out of juice.
“you need to learn a little patience and self discipline, alright — you’ll appreciate this dick more without the fuckin’ silicone version.” he drawls and you giggle again at his word choice before bringing your manicured fingers to your lips to stop yourself.
“m’attached to it rafey. i like it. its pink and glittery and i’m not throwing it away.” you stand your ground, and his jaw ticks, looking around once more at the toy laying on your bed.
“cant do all the shit i do n’you know it… right? you call me when that toy fuckin’ chokes you out how you like it or spits in your damn asshole and shoves its thumb in there. yeah?” he mouths off before leaving the room, caring less and less about the argument as time goes on. now you really couldn’t fight him — he was playing dirty, and that made you horny.
his fighting spirit is given a new lease of life downstairs in the kitchen, when you accidentally blurt out the wrong name whilst speaking to him.
you’re giggling uncontrollably once more, grabbing at his shirt in the kitchen attempting to pull you closer as he holds his hands up, pretending to be totally disgusted.
“nah, who the fuck is that — huh? nate?”
“gosh, rafey — he’s from gossip girl! i was just thinkin’ about the show and your names sound similar! was an accident!” the fact you don’t sound sorry in the slightest is grinding his gears, not hugging you back when you manage to wrap your arms around him. “daddy hug me back.” you pout, and he peels you back with his hands on your shoulders.
“on thin fuckin’ ice today… alright?” he raises his eyebrows. you smile and nod, earrings jangling like there wasn’t a thought in your head.
it’s on the way to the country club that he’s really had enough, insisting on playing your music in the car, constantly winding down the volume to ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. your delicate hand reaches out for the volume toggle once more and he smacks it away.
“if you’re going to ask me if i’d still love you as a worm, or whatever bullshit you’ve conjured up — i suggest staying quiet, yeah? already told you that you’re pushing it today.”
he doesn’t have to look at you to know your smile is spreading.
“that wasn’t my question, but would you?”
the car pulls over to the side of the road with a swiftness, and he turns his body in his seat. you look unbothered as ever.
“why’d we stop?”
“you’re uh, you’re goin’ in the trunk. okay?” he rasps slowly, nodding his head like it would hypnotise you into agreeing. somehow, it worked — because your grin remains.
“okay!”
he marches over to your side and yanks you out before walking you round the back and opening the trunk. “i’m serious. get in.”
you do with no complaints — and by the time he is back in the drivers seat, he believes he’s taken it too far. however there’s no banging around, no crying, no screaming for him to let you out — so he drives away. the silence is rewarding, but he doesn’t feel great about it.
when he pulls up to the country club, he’s quick to walk around the backside of his truck and open up the trunk, relieved to see you happy as a clam — and lifts you out from under your arms. “that was fun! it was like you were a kidnapper, but also my boyfriend.” your eyes have a twinkle to them as he marches you towards his group of friends, gawking with questioning gazes.
“yeah you like that shit? ‘that turn you on?” he bites back sarcastically, but you nod anyway.
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mactavishsgfandwife · 6 months
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley and His Poorly Girl 🩹
i have tonsillitis right now and i feel so tired out, i’m purely writing this to make myself feel better
a short one
fluff with 1 sex reference, not proofread
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"Baby…" he mumbled, eyes closed, reaching a chunky arm across the bed towards you - but he doesn’t find you next to him.
Instead, you’re sitting in front of the full-length mirror in your shared bedroom, staring at your reflection defeatedly. Only half awake, a warm blanket is wrapped around your shoulders to keep you comfy.
Quietly, trying not to disturb him, you apply your mascara only to accidentally get it in your eye - you try to fix it up, but with your eyes watering it’s hard to see clearly. Soft ruffling from the bed takes your attention, your wet eyes turning to meet Simon’s.
"Come t’bed…" he grumbles, not quite noticing your downtrodden expression, "need y’, c’mere." Seeing Simon in the mornings is funny - his tone a little needier than he’d like to admit, slight grumpy and clingy, always needing to wrap his arms around you and not so subtly rock his hips against your thigh. He just needs to be near you.
"’ve got work," you turn back to the mirror, voice croaky and quiet. Cool air from outside the window seeps into the room, making all your hairs stand up on end. Your fiancé sits up in bed, ruffling his short blonde hair as he wakes up a little. As he moves, the soft bedsheets fall down to his hips, uncovering his warm chest - he’s strong, really strong, but also big, with a little fat cushioning his abs and his strong biceps. An unfairly tempting sight when it’s 6:30am and you have a job to do. :(
"You alright, love?" he places a broad hand behind his head as he stretches.
"Sick," you sniffle, looking a little pathetic in the corner of the room with a blanket wrapped around you and a cup of Lemsip on the floor.
"What the hell are y’working for?" he chuckles, lifting up the bedsheet to let you climb under it, "come t’me, baby." His voice is softer, empathetic - partly, he’s doing it to convince you to come and cuddle, but he’s also doing it because he can see how sickly you are and just wants to make you feel better.
"Can’t…" you whine, removing that mascara so you can just start over. God, makeup is a pain in the ass.
"Y’look like you’re about t’drop dead, you should call in sick."
"Nooo…" you frown, "I don’t want to get in trouble again."
"Hey, here," he sits on the edge of the bed and pats his lap, wrapping his warm arms around you as you sit down on it.
"Mmph…" you mumble, lamenting how easily you slip into his arms. This is only making things harder than they have to be.
"D’you even like that job?"
"Not really."
"I’m not letting you leave this house. Let me look after you," he pats your hip, nuzzling his face into yours.
"But, but-"
"Get in," he orders, almost commanding. All too easily, you give in, rolling under the sheets with him. The little pout on your face is only a surface-level protest, he knows you’re internally rejoicing.
"Poor girl," he coos, wrapping his arms around you and slowly rubbing up and down you back, all the while listening to your little groans.
"Thank you…" you mumble, nuzzling up to him.
"Shhh, you’ll lose yer voice too," he pats your head. "Stay ‘ere, let me go get a hot water bottle."
You wrap your hand around his arm, tugging him back as he tries to get up. On any usual day he would have just chuckled and pulled away from you - you hands don’t even reach all the way around his bicep - but today he leant back down you your level, letting you keep your tight grasp on him.
"You don’t want one?" he holds on to your hand, slowly caressing your knuckles with his thumb.
"Want you," you pout, "please."
"Little weirdo," he grins, climbing back into bed with you and pulling you onto his chest, "whatever you say, Mrs."
Gratefully, you wrap your arms around him and cuddle as close as you can get. God, he feels so warm. <3
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thanks for reading :3
masterlist
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kissitbttr · 9 months
Note
omgomgomg… a lil quickie w frat!miguel before his big game me thinks 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️
“do you think they have fries stall back in the booth? i want their seaweed one”
“my dick is literally inside you muñeca, and you’re talking about fries?!”
he has you pressed down against the locker room’s bench, where his teammates had already gone. snuck you in the moment he checked that the locker’s empty,
in which you were against at first, because it’s smelly and being in the boy’s locker room is disgusting. you told him that before. suggested to do it in the teacher’s lounge or library like you both always do it, where everyone is off to the game. but he couldn’t wait that long.
it has been pretty much a ritual for him and you to fuck before the game. something about being a good luck charm when he fucks you. especially when you look as good in your cheerleading uniform. that short skirt and skin tight top makes him go crazy. you can’t blame him.
“well i’m hungry! i only had that half of burger gloria shared with me and it wasn’t enough!” you protest with a huff, sliding your hands to his biceps,
he rolls his eyes, fingers running through his lightly dampen hair, stealing a kiss from you to get you to be quiet.
“i’ll get you everything they have there, muñeca, yeah? but now? i need you to shut up for a moment”
he hooks his arms underneath the back of your knees, circling them around his waist as he plunges deeper into you making you gasp at the sudden stretch, toes curling at the sensation
miguel smiles at your reaction, hoisting your skirt up just a bit more. “mierda.. you look absolutely beautiful, baby” he grunts, thrusting his cock a little bit faster,
you dig your finger tips into the skin of his arms as he fucks you, back arched deliciously as he watches your tits bounce inside the material of your top,
“oh fuck, miggy” your whine comes off high pitched, needy. one that he has find himself obsessed with. “d-don’t stop, baby—fuck, that feels so good”
hearing that makes him growl, resting his forearm above your head to help him press down his weight on you just a little bit. your jaw goes slack, eyes lulling to the back of your head and nothing miguel appreciates more than the sight before him,
“gonna come, sweetheart? hm?” his hand moves to your jaw, getting you to look at him. his thrusts going even more brutal and deeper making you whimper
“gonna coat my cock, aren’t you? be my good girl”
nodding fast, you bite down your lower lip. big wide eyes looking into him and he swears he’s not going to make it too. not when you look at him like that,
“y-yes! yes miggy, please let me cum!”
soon enough, you both reach your high. soft moans and loud groans escaped your mouths,
miguel stays in you for a while to catch his breath, forehead resting against your collarbone before chuckling. he presses a soft kiss on the soft skin before pulling out,
he watches you trying to regain your composure, breathing heavily with your arm above your head,
“earth to muñeca? you good?l” he heavy pants with a joke, patting your thigh,
your eyes snap open to look at him, giving him a small yet satisfied smile. “i’m good.”
he helps you get up slowly after that, not before pulling the condom off him and throwing it in the trash,
“miguel!” you slap his arm. “people will see that! throw it outside!”
“no one is going to! the janitor maybe. and i’m sure he had his fair shares of seeing used condoms” he shrugs, wiping his hands off the varsity
you brush it off before pulling your panties up and skirt down, fixing up the ponytail after. you eye yourself through the small mirror attached on the wall, removing any smudged mascara and lipstick,
“do i smell like sex? i feel like i smell like sex. ugh, i smell like you!”
he quirks an eyebrow. “and what is wrong about that?”
“nothing! i like smelling like you. but they will—“
“know that i fucked the shit out of you and that you’re my girl? yes” he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek,
you smile at that, looking over your shoulder before pointing your finger at his neck,
“also you have a hickey”
he widens his eyes. “what?! FUCK!”
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uc1wa · 1 month
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How about a Fratboy!dick but the reader is going on an actual romantic date with a guy, I want to see how possessive he would get since technically reader isn't fucking the guy, but she is seeing him....please
“Tomorrow there’s a party; already know what I want you to wear,” Dick speaks as he lays back in his bed, assuming you’d meet him there so he could take you back to his apartment. The sweat that layered a coat on his skin started to dry while he adjusted his boxers to be pulled just above his hip bone. His eyes watch your movements, the way you look at yourself in the mirror and fix your makeup to look like you didn’t just get fucked raw.
“Not going. I have a date,” you say with nonchalance in your voice, fingers fixing the mascara smudged underneath your eyes.
While you say it cooly, like there was nothing wrong with your statement, well, because there wasn’t; there was something so utterly wrong with that to Dick.
“What?” It’s quick; there’s a second between your words when he asks the question. “With who?”
“Some guy I met on Hinge. He doesn’t go to school with us. He’s grown,” and that irritates Dick even more.
“So are we gonna stop fucking or something?” There’s malice in his voice now while he stands on his feet, walking over to where you stand and looking at you more up close. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it to intimidate you or to read your face like you’re fucking with him.
But the question makes you laugh while he scoffs. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? We fuck. Isn’t that what you told me awhile back? All we do is fuck, Dick.”
It pisses him off. He wants to knot his fingers into your hair and curl them around your throat. He wants to remind you that no guy you go on a date with will treat you the way he does, but there’s nothing he can do when he knows you’re going on a date.
He can do nothing except sit at the bar you’re sitting at, directly across from you and your date. Dick’s shameless in his act; his eyes never leave you while he sips on a vodka redbull. Even when your date catches Dick’s dark ones, Dick only smiles back.
He wanted to get a vodka tonic, but he knew he was going to need energy for the amount of cum he was going to leave all over you tonight.
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rainylana · 5 months
Text
“It’s just a cut.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: too many times had eddie tended to your wounds and broken heart. he’s had enough.
a potential series if you guys want it! let me know!
warnings: extremely angsty and not for everyone! i tried to make this as real as possible for both sides and it’s not an easy read. please tread with caution. therefore warnings are: physical and emotional abuse by readers mother, wounds and blood, mentions of weighed and irregular eating habits, low confidence and self esteem mentions, language, very angsty fight between reader and eddie, broken nose, lots of tears, reader still loves her mother very much despite her actions. eddie isn’t a jerk, i didn’t try to convey him that way, but this is a heavy subject and it needed to feel real. i dated a jerk and know what some of this can be like. requested by @h-ness1944 i hope you like this dear! i hope i did it justice to what you wanted!
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Was he mad? You couldn’t tell. He hadn’t said anything in almost twenty minutes. Your heart was racing. The last thing you wanted was to loose him. You knew it was getting to him, seeing you all cut up and beaten on, but what else was there to do?
Your shirt was off, sitting on the couch in your bra and jeans as you sniffled, tears that had long since dried and left a sticky residue on your cheeks, mascara dark and streaked. Your mom had thrown a beer bottle at you again, a normal occurrence, they just didn’t usually hit you. It had sliced the skin on your back open. Luckily, it wasn’t bad enough to need stitches, but that didn’t matter to Eddie.
You regretted coming over. You shouldn’t have bothered him with it. You could feel the anger and hurt radiating off of him. You had sworn him to secrecy, and you could see the toll it took on him.
Your mom had increasingly got more creative when it came to dealing out punishments. She had ever since she started heavily drinking, when your dad had left her. You loved your dad and missed him dearly, but you didn’t blame him for leaving her. He had to take care of himself too. If he knew what your mom did, he’d surely come back to stop her. You couldn’t do that to him. At the end of the day, you could endure it, you just weren’t sure if Eddie could anymore.
“Please say something.” Your voice was hoarse.
You had your back to him, wincing slightly as he dapped a pad of alcohol on your cut, trying to make sure it didn’t get caught with an infection.
“What do you want me to say?” His voice barely conveyed any emotion.
When you had showed up, blood seeping through your shirt, he’d done what he did every time, debated taking you to the hospital, but your panicked state always talked him out of it. He’d sunk into protective mode, guiding you to the couch and pulling your shirt off, shushing you gently and telling you he’d get you fixed up. That was twenty five minutes ago. He was too quiet now.
His voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”
He sighed heavily, cursing himself. There was no need to be cold toward you. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He squeezed your shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”
He wiped your wound dry, covering it with a gauze and bandage. He’d stocked up on medical supplies a few months ago. One night he had cried when he realized just how quickly it was going. He was terrified for you, afraid one day, you wouldn’t walk through the door needing aid from your wounds. One day it would be Hopper, hat in his hands and offering his condolences. He had thought about going to the police so many times behind your back, but he’d loose you then. Was he being selfish?
“Please don’t hate me.” You cried emotionally, looking down to your shoes.
“Y/n,” He turned you gently, grabbing your chin. “I do not hate you.” His thumb traced your bottom lip, watching as you sniffled and cried, his other hand swiping away some tears that fell down your cheek. “Just calm down, honey.” He raised his chin to you, instructing softly. He didn’t want you to get yourself worked up like you usually did.
You breathed in the hands that held you upright, face beat red and blotchy. You body ached with pain and guilt. You wanted nothing more to curl up in his chest, but you fought the urge. He might not have wanted you too.
“What happened this time?” He said, reaching to the floor to hand you your shirt. “Was she drinking?”
You told him what happened, or lack of what happened. It was never really much of anything. She’d scream at you, call you names that you couldn’t repeat. Throw things and hit you. You said, nothing really, shrugging your shoulders. There was a time where Eddie would have demanded more of an answer, but he grew to realize that sometimes it never really was anything. That’s just how your mother was.
Eddie bit down hard on his lip, looking away from you to the kitchen. “Spend the weekend here with me. I don’t want you going back tonight.” He’d wanted you to move in with him for so long, but you never could leave your mother. He didn’t understand that, and your fought about it several times.
“Eddie?” You grabbed at his knee, eyes fearful and wide. “I really am sorry.”
He grabbed your hand and kissed it, but said nothing as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He couldn’t help it. With each time you came barging in during the night, day, whatever, it chipped away at his heart. He’d watched you change over the last year as your mother’s words became more harsh. You accepted the beatings more easily, but the way she spoke to you had taken it’s toll. He could see that clear as a bell.
Your self confidence had plummeted. You didn’t like to reveal any of your skin that you didn’t have to. You were much quieter than you used to be, only really speaking to him or some of the members of hellfire. Wayne, too, of course.
He was washing his hands, trying his best to not smash the mirror in front of him. He was being distant and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. How much longer until you’d have to undergo surgery? How much longer until the words hurt so bad you’d kill yourself just to get away from it? How much longer until he’d be standing by your grave?
He looked up to find tour reflection, tearful and afraid. He knew what you were thinking. You knew what he was thinking. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your lips to his back to hold him. He relaxed into your touch, hands still slightly wet from the sink.
“Don’t worry about me, Ed’.” You whispered. “I’ll be okay.”
His hands held yours above his stomach, staring at your sad reflection. “No, you won’t.” He answers honestly, a small shake of his head that you barely miss. “Don’t lie to yourself.”
You were always crying. You were always sad. You were always so heartbroken, a shell of what you once used to be.
“It’s just a cut.” You defended, causing him to shrivel under your touch and pull away, quickly drying his hands with a towel and leaving the bathroom.
“Don’t start that shit.” He said lowly, entering your bedroom. “It’s not a cut. It’s never just a cut. It’s so much more than that.”
“Okay, okay, well-” You started to rant, mouth opening but falling closed at a loss of words.
He waited for you to speak.
“I don’t know what to say.” You cross your arms defensively. “I just- I don’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I came here. I shouldn’t have.”
No. That’s the last thing he wanted you to think. You were always welcome and he would always look after you. He cursed under his breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Baby, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” He comes to you, grabbing your shoulders.
He pulls you into his chest, you’re a blubbering, whimpering mess. He’s careful to not touch your bandage. “I can’t not worry about you, angel.” His voice is full and close to breaking.
“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch you suffer like this. I can’t stand to see you wither away.” His eyes tear up, holding the back of your head. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep quiet, sweetheart.”
You’re sobs increase and you’re grasping on to him for dear life.
“I know you love her, baby, but she’s not good for you.” His voice shakes and so does his bottom lip. “God, I wish I could just take you away.”
You’re too distraught to say anything. You hold him and he holds you.
“I’m done, y/n.” Eddie’s got angry tears falling down his face, voice filled with a rage full venom he was dying to take out on something, anything. “I’m done with this shit. Either you go to the police or I will.”
“Eddie, please!” You’re begging him, practically on your knees as you sob hysterically. “Please, don’t! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear it!”
“You say that every time!” He says incredulously, flaying his arms about like you’d gone mad. “And every time nothing changes!”
It had been bad this time. Your mom had said absolutely disgusting things to you, taking about your weight, making remarks about the way you talked and how Eddie was crazy for being with you. You’d made the mistake of trying to stand up to her. Your nose was most likely broken from being shoved into the wall, the crunch still loud in your ears that made you cringe from the memory. The blood had dried, but it hurt to breath. Your tears caused you immense pain from the weight of your cries, the heaves from your chest making your face ache.
Eddie stepped back and sobbed softly, holding his head with a hand and cursed. “Fuck.” He couldn’t hold back his emotions this time.
You brought up your hand to your mouth, trying your best to calm down, but it wasn’t doing much good. “Eddie, please!” You whimpered. “You can’t say anything. You swore!”
“I know I did!” He snapped, throwing down his arm. “You swore me to something that you shouldn’t have! Now I’m stuck watching you get beat on every day! Do you know what the hell that does to me?” He was shouting now, tears boiling down your face. You turned away from him and bawled.
In the moment, he wondered if he was any better than your mother, yelling at you and making you cry. Maybe later, he’d hate himself for it, but he couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“Look at this picture.” He tore out his wallet and flipped it open, taking out the polaroid of you that he kept in the first sleeve. “Look at how happy you were there.” It was only a few years ago, back when the antics of your mother began. You were smiling with full teeth, wearing a pretty pink dress and face decorated with happiness and joy.
“You see how different you look?” He held the picture to your face. “You’re too thin. You don’t eat. You’ve got bruises all over you. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years.”
Your nose started bleeding again, you could feel the cool, metallic taste of blood on your upper lip. Eddie watched it drop down, his tear falling in sync with your blood.
“You can’t make me keep doing this, y/n.” He said your, shaking his head and grasping at the picture. “I love you too much to watch you get hurt. I’m giving you a choice, darlin’. It’s either you or me.”
“No.” You shake your head. “She won’t survive in jail, Eddie! She needs me to take care of her!” Your chest heaves through tears, a panicked anxiety making you hysterical. “Please, Eddie, please!” You fall to the floor at his feet, grasping at his knees, begging him to forget it all. You had snot and blood, hot tears falling down your face, making your skin red and blotchy.
You pulled at him and sobbed, and Eddie just didn’t know what to do. Both of your hearts were breaking. He held his hands at your head, and he slowly looked up at the ceiling and cried with you. “I can’t do it anymore, baby.” He whimpered. “I need you safe. I can’t wait until it’s too late. I won’t have you dying on me.”
“Eddie, please!” You’re hysterical, squeezing his legs.
“If you hate me it’s okay.” He sniffles, wiping a hand over his face. “I just need you safe. That’s all I need.”
You grow angry at his defiance, pushing yourself off the ground. “I said no, Eddie! She’s my mother, not yours!” You spat, a sudden change of emotion that had him reeling back.
“Y/n, please.” He begged, closing his eyes. “I- I can’t. I just..I just can’t anymore. You’re asking me to do the impossible. Do I have to watch you be killed!” He shouts at the end, eyes burning red with angry, hurt tears.
“I’ll break up with you!” You scream, the ache in your nose making you groan. “I swear to god, Eddie, if you tell anyone we’re done!”
It all went silent. Eddie cried. You cried. Hearts were racing and limbs were trembling. He took a slow, deep breath. “I have to.” It was all he said, keeping his eye on you, but it was enough.
With a cold glare, you were slamming the door on the way out.
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cheriladycl01 · 5 months
Text
Winning Gold in Life - Lando Norris x BritishOlympicFigureSkating! Reader
Plot: You and Lando will try to coordinate his helmet designs to your figure skating outfit, so that you guys can match and win together.
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"You looked amazing out there baby!" Lando grins picking you up and spinning you around as you got to the edge of the ice rink by the gate to leave.
You orange dress that had the Mclaren Logo all up the sheer see-through sleeves and on the back as if it were a tramp-stamp flowed around you hips as he spun you.
"Ah that was so nerve-racking having you watching me!" you exclaim, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. You both sat on the stands waiting for the results.
"Y/N, that was an fantastic performance. Think we have a chance for Gold!" your coach says coming over to you handing you your coat and gloves like she normally did after you'd been out on the ice.
"Thank you Maddie, I just hope it was enough!" you nod nervously. Lando rubs his hand up and down your legs in a comforting manor before pulling you into his hold.
"You did do well, no matter where you come... I'm going to be proud of you for just going out there today!" he whispers in your ear and tears start to build up in your eyeline. Some of you eyeliner and mascara had already started to melt off your face but Lando couldn't stand to see himself make it worse.
"Ohhhh, don't cry baby!" he laughs seeing your little pouty expression that he found adorable. You look at him is his thumbs wipe under your eyes trying to fix the black and brown makeup that had started to streak and make you loosely resemble a Panda.
As you waited for the results to come in, you anxiously bite your lips until you hear you name said by the Chinese commentator before the English one making you look at Lando and your trainer.
"Was that my name or am i tripping?" you ask looking between them and Lando has a huge grin on his face.
"That was your name baby, GOLD!" he exclaims and you crouch down into a sort of squat in shock. Tears streaming down your face.
"Y/N come on! Onto the ice!" you trainer grins and you take Lando's hand dragging him so he's as close to the barriers between the ice and the stadium seats as possible.
You see the camera on you and the other two medalists who you immediately pull into hugs, you'd gotten close to them since you guys landed here in Beijing.
You stake out to where the podium is and stand on the top place, getting help from someone to get up onto it. You smile at your flag, proud of what you've done for team GB.
The medal gets placed around you neck after the others and you get handed your flowers as you all stand listening to the British National Anthem, your hand on your heart and medal while you look up trying to keep the tears at bay.
You skate back and see Lando is filming your arrival making you make a silly face at the camera before showing your cold medal to him and the camera with a big cheesy grin on you face.
"Darling I'm so proud of you!" he smiles pulling you in for a hug and kisses your forehead as he takes a second to observe you.
"I love you so much, having you here for support was everything!" you admit, knowing you probably wouldn't have done as well if he wasn't here cheering you on.
"Well, now that you've got your first gold. I think it's time that I got my first win..." he smiles.
"Yeah? Will that be in Bahrain with your new matching lid" you grin at him and he nods.
"Need my good luck charm with me, if I'm going to win!"
And that was how you found yourself once again in the fuel scented paddock that you'd become accustomed too over the few years you'd been dating Lando for.
"Things have been looking promising babe! You guy's sandbagged hard!" you grin, knowing there was a lot more oophm to the car than what they'd let on in February's pre-season testing.
"Zac's orders. We'll be up there with Red Bull and Mercedes this year!" he grins and FP1 and FP2 proved that. He had a mega performance having the quickest time in the first and going third fastest in the second.
Sunday came around far to quickly for your liking and you were sat in the paddock in shorts and Lando's Mclaren Shirt for the warm weather Bahrain had brought. You even had to go to the merch stand to by yourself a McLaren hat because the darkness to you hair had started to burn the top of you head.
It was an embarrassing interaction, you asked for a Lando Norris McLaren hat but it was so busy and so loud they'd mistaken it for a Lewis Hamilton Mercedes hat so you were strolling through the paddock with that on your head.
"Ahhh, well if it isn't my biggest fan Y/N Y/L/N!" Lewis says catching you as he strides past on his scooter stopping to talk to you.
"They made a mistake at the merch shop. I didnt have the heart to correct them..." you chuckle and he laughs as well, he pulls out a pen starting to sign it while it was on your head.
"For my biggest fan" he laughs and you cant help but laugh as well. Only seconds later do the media catch on to the two athletes conversing and pull them up on it.
"Hey guys, how are we doing today!" one of the interviewers asks making you freeze a little like a deer in headlights.
"I'm doing great, just you know spending time with a fan!" Lewis jokes making the reporters laughs and turn to you.
"Yep, big fan of his work. Ppppft whose that Lando Norris guy in pole position. I don't know him..." you joke back knowing Lewis and Lando had the front row locked out.
"Y/N, all jokes aside it's great to see you back in the paddock now after all the training ... which clearly paid off congratulations" she smiles and you blush a little nod liking to brag or show off.
"Thank you, my team and I worked really hard. I obviously had the power of Mclaren and Lando on my side and I'm happy to have achieved Gold after my not so good attempt in 2018!" you cringe remembering when you were so much younger and naive that you hadn't performed as well, just missing out on a bronze medal.
"Well all the best to you and Lando!" she grins before keeping Lewis and letting you dash off back to McLaren.
2 hours later and you were anxuously biting your nails watching Lando catch up to the lead of the race after a slow pitstop and reclaim his P1.
It wasn't until the last lap, where DRS was enabled that he could overtake Charles and take back his P1 having an advantage on the final turn and straight for him to cross the finish line in P1.
His first F1 win.
You didn't have the most graceful reaction for a WAG, that was for sure but seeing Lando win after working so hard towards his goal, you couldn't contain your emotions.
You ran up to him, and you jumped on him not caring about the wetness of his suit from sweat and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as his gloved hands came down to support you holding just under your bum.
"You are amazing!" you cry pulling up his visor so you can see his own eyes that are full of tears.
You later watched on as he celebrated his podium with Charles and Lewis, and you saw the elated and happy expression on your face that you would do anything to keep on their permanently as your favourite thing about him was his smile.
That was your man... and he was forever your man.
y/user
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Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and pietra.pilao
y/user: Life recently! Winning Gold in all aspects of life ... McLaren Papaya inspired drip, and Lando getting a new lid for 2023 (I’m not allowed to show you guys till race weekend) <3
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landonorris: my gorgeous baby! I love you 🥰❤️
-> y/user: I love you more! Thank you for all your support recently 🫶🏼❤️
mclaren: when the drip is dripping 😦🤭🧡
-> y/user: always 🧡
fan1: it’s so cute how Lando and Y/N always match🥺
fan2: Y/N show us the lid we won’t snitch!
maxfewtrell: thank you for making it to the merch drop. We miss seeing you!
-> y/user: missing you too Max 🫶🏼
pietra.pilao: beautiful, gorgeous girl
-> y/user: no you 👆🏼☺️
-> pietra.pilao: let’s date ❤️
-> y/user: YES! Spa days for life 🫣🫶🏼
fan3: P and Y/N’s friendship is so funny 🥺🧡
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Back to training, without my mans 😭🫶🏼
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
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Summary: After making a scene and storming out of Eddie's trailer, you're left to wonder if you even have a boyfriend anymore, since he hasn't spoken to you in three days.
a/n: congratulations. you bitches wore me down. you all know how much i HATE angst with no happy endings so enjoy me fixing it.
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
word count: 3.3k
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  It’d been days since the fight in Eddie’s trailer. Days.
  You were mad as hell when you’d left, so mad you almost appeared calm. You’d angrily cried on the drive back home, hot tears leaking steadily past your lashes as you scowled and you were sure they left a trail of mascara behind.
  You’d dodged your mother when you got home, unwilling to face the barrage of questions she’d  send your way that would no doubt trigger a breakdown. The last thing you needed was anyone asking if you were okay.
  Besides, you thought you’d be fine. Eddie would get the point, come to his senses and be at your front door a little past dinner to apologize for hurting your feelings.
  You’d composed yourself to the best of your ability while you ate, forking the food on your plate down with the excuse of having not had lunch when your mother started questioning you and then hurried back upstairs to your room.
  Your landline was plucked from its place on your nightstand drawer and set on your bed in front of you. When half an hour passed, you assumed Eddie was still wrestling with his pride. When half an hour turned into an hour and a half, you started wondering if maybe he was still cooling down from the argument. He’d call.
  By 2 a.m., the tears were back and speeding effortlessly from the corners of your eyes, down the bridge of your nose to meet your pillowcase as you realized he wasn’t going to call.
  He didn’t call the next day, either. Or the day after that. 
  The two of you weren’t in school anymore, so you couldn’t track him down in the halls but you didn’t want to go find him. You wanted him to come find you, you wanted him to chase after you when you left his trailer, you wanted him to call you and tell you he loved you and you wanted him to not bring girls who wanted him the way you did over to his trailer. 
  You wanted Eddie. But you wouldn’t go crawling back, your heart may have been wailing in agony but your pride was howling at you, wounded and bleeding.
  Were you broken up? You hadn’t intended for your exit to be the end, but by day three, you were starting to get the feeling it was over.
  And despite how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t rot in bed. You had responsibilities, a job. You’d called into the arcade the first two days but you couldn’t put it off forever, couldn’t avoid leaving your house because you feared running into Eddie.
  Yes, you were desperate to see him, but under your specific conditions. What if you ran into him and he confirmed the two of you were over? What if he was with that girl you’d seen leaving the trailer? He said he’d given her a deal for flirting with him, had it progressed? Was he rebounding?
  The more you thought about it, the more sad you got. Samantha Stone, your former lab partner and current co-worker had stepped in to awkwardly comfort you when you kept dipping into the back room to cry and eventually sent you home with the promise she could handle the riveting crowd of three plaguing the arcade.
  You’d kicked off your shoes and thrown your bag onto the floor the moment you got into your room, but you hadn’t changed, just fell face first onto your bed as your tears mingled with your comforter.
  And that’s how you found yourself thinking about how long it had been since that damn fight. Maybe you were overreacting. Sure, Eddie had been a little intimidating in high school, but he’d also had no trouble in the romance department. He’d told you he’d been cynical about it, since it never went beyond sex, but he’d also said that had been before you had looked twice at him. 
  Unfortunately for you, the stupid ass curse that comes with having a boyfriend struck you. Now that Eddie had a girlfriend, all of a sudden he was a wanted man, even more so than he had been in the past.
  You’d seen girls overstep, had been waiting for him in the van during a deal while you watched one reach a hand out to caress his arm and it had taken everything in you to not storm out of the van to tear the offending appendage off and beat her silly with it.
  Maybe you really were just blowing things out of proportion because of your jealousy. Maybe you owed Eddie the apology. Would he even accept your apology? It had been days, after all. Maybe he’d take you back if you groveled. Tears were a no brainer, you were pretty emotional and aware you were in a somewhat manic state, so they’d come the moment you caught sight of him again. Your feelings, your love for him, and this stupid mess would overwhelm you.
  You glanced at your phone, still poised on your bed and taunting you without a single ring. Your mother would have mentioned it if he called. He hadn’t.
  You wanted Eddie.
  That singular sentence plagued you, wrapping around your heart over and over again, constricting like a boa until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were about to have a heart attack. You could hear the loud and insistent banging that was your heartbeat, beating in time with your much too fast breaths.
  Eddie was the last thing you thought of before you shut down, body allowing exhaustion to overcome you to stop your impending panic attack.
  You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, eyes prying open to your room shrouded in darkness. A lazy glance at the window confirmed night had fallen and you sagged further into your bedding, sighing when you remembered you’d fallen asleep in your work uniform which meant you couldn’t slip back under the veil of rest and peace until you’d gotten out of it.
  You sat up, fingers gripping onto the hem of your shirt to lift it. 
  A flash of movement at the foot of your bed caught your attention just before you raised your shirt over your head and you nearly had a heart attack as you fell back, quickly reaching for your lamp.
  The warm glow of it illuminated the room and revealed Eddie standing near the foot of your bed, hands up to show he meant no harm.
  “Sorry,” he gave a brief huff of laughter, mouth pulled into a nervous smile, “didn’t mean to scare you. Your mom let me in.”
  Your heart calmed instantly at the sight of him, but your anxiety made its presence known, sinking into your belly.
  He’s here to break up with you, it whispered.
  You pulled your shirt back down, smoothing it out to give you something to do. Suddenly, you were incapable of words, nonverbal as your mouth refused to part. Your heart had won the battle with your pride and was desperate to beg him to forgive you for overreacting, would say anything to get him to hold you but you were paralyzed.
  Eddie cleared his throat, a hand reaching up to scratch his head before he sat down on the edge of your bed and you took him in.
  The most apparent difference in his appearance was the dullness of his eyes and the bags under them. Eddie was usually so full of life, an eccentric being buzzing with a sort of energy at all times, even when he was pretending to be the cool, collected bad boy. Now, he looked tired. And he had a light dusting of scruff on his jaw and cheeks.
  Eddie never had facial hair. Hated it. He’d tried it out once, he wasn’t fond of not being able to feel your kisses directly against his skin, and it made him itchy so it didn't last long.
  He shaved everyday to make sure he could feel your lips on him and the reminder made tears pool at your waterline once more.
  “Look, I─”
  “I’m sorry!” You rushed out, cutting him off as emotion muddled your voice and made your throat thick with it. The tears followed, just as you’d predicted they would when confronted by Eddie, “I’m so sorry, you were right, I was overreacting! I was just jealous, you can bring whoever you want to your trailer, I know it’s just business. I was just stupid and jealous and upset, you were right to not call me, and I’m sorry!”
  Eddie’s mouth parted, eyebrows rising in bewilderment.
  Then he was kicking off his shoes and climbing onto your bed, softly hushing you as he pulled you into his arms and you sobbed against his shirt, relieved to finally have Eddie back.
  You hadn’t thought he’d ever hold you again so you clung to him like a lifeline.
  Eddie held you tight, hand rubbing comfortingly over your back as he pressed kiss after kiss to your head and nuzzled his face there, trying to make sense of what was happening.
  After you’d left, he’d trashed his room. Well, more so than its usual state. He’d wanted you to come right back after you stormed out, was hoping you would—but like an idiot, Eddie just stared at the door as his mind replayed the entire conversation, emphasizing the moment he’d crossed the line. By the time he finally snapped out of his stupor and ran out after you, you were gone.
  Eddie was frustrated with himself, so he took it out on his room. When that was done, he’d grabbed a beer from the fridge, a joint from his stash and got crossed on the couch out front as he thought about the fight.
  He had no interest in anyone who wasn’t you. None. And for some reason, you didn’t understand just how much he loved you, how not a singular fucking person on this giant rock could compare to you. Not Cindy Crawford, not Pam Grier, not Irene Cara, not a single member of Metallica, no one.
  You were Eddie’s favorite person. You were his person.
  And he made you feel like shit. The longer he thought about it, the guiltier he felt. It was easy to write off your behavior as jealousy, but your jealousy hadn’t been unwarranted.
  He couldn’t see the big deal about having her pick up weed from his place since she’d phoned to let him know she was already in the area, but when he imagined some random guy coming out of your home, you walking him out?
  Eddie saw red. The thought alone knocked the air out of him and it was a feeling he was keen to not experience.
  But you had. And instead of just owning up to his slip of the mind, he’d stuck to his guns and had promptly shot himself in the metaphorical foot, not before hurting you. You were upset, and you lashed out when you got like that. Eddie had realized a long time ago that you only made digs like that because you wanted him to tell you you were wrong without having to ask him.
  Only, Eddie hadn’t told you that no, he didn’t give her a deal for being ‘pretty and flirty’ as you’d accused. She had been flirty—yes, he felt even more guilty when he thought about it—but he’d been blunt and brief, exchanging the bag of nugs for cash before he was sending her back the way she came. You’d just been on the other side of the door when he’d opened it for her to leave.
  It looked fucking terrible. How the hell was he supposed to make this up to you??? He’d spent the remainder of the night lingering near the phone, picking it up and then putting it back on the receiver. Nothing he could think of was a worthy enough apology for you, and he assumed you didn’t even want to see him. Fuck, you’d been so upset.
  He ended up passing out on the couch.
  The next few days went the same, he tried to figure out what to say, how to to explain himself and dove for the phone anytime it rang. It was never you, but of course it was when Eddie was desperate to hear your voice on the other end of the line that all his usual customers had run out of weed and other things.
  And she had called. 
  Eddie wasn’t stupid, she’d smoked with him and a group of friends at a party once, she hacked up her lungs and coughed herself into delirium after one pull; there was no way she’d finished what Eddie had supplied to her that quickly. It certainly didn’t help that she knew Eddie had you, and she still kept up the flirting. You were right, Eddie knew what she was trying to do and he was a shit boyfriend for not turning her down outright. Eddie had nipped that problem in the bud over the phone.
  In his desperation, he’d done multiple drives by the arcade, too. You were never behind the counter, only that gothic chick that liked to curse people was.
  He got anxious fast, hoping like hell that you hadn’t broken up with him. When it became too much for Eddie, who missed seeing your beautiful face, he caved in and drove to your house, despite the fact that you might not want to see him. When your mom let him in instead of throwing pots and pans at him like he’d imagined she would, Eddie figured you hadn’t told her about the fight which gave him hope.
  Maybe you did still want him.
  There was no light under your bedroom door and when he knocked you hadn’t answered but Eddie walked in anyways, heart clenching at the sight of you sprawled on your bed asleep.
  God, how he’d missed you.
  Eddie found himself blinking back tears as he stared down at you. It was selfish of him, but he really wanted to wake you up, touch you, hold you, kiss you.
  And then he realized he was at your house uninvited, in your room, watching you while you slept. Could he get any fucking creepier? Jesus…
  Eddie had been in the middle of pacing a circle in your carpet, trying to play out how this conversation would go when you stirred and he froze.
  Then you sat up and he got a little excited when you started taking your shirt off, but Eddie was aware of how bad this could go if he didn’t announce his presence.
  You hadn’t started yelling at him like he expected, no. What you did was worse. You were apologizing. 
  He’d been inconsiderate, he’d put himself in a situation that would look bad to literally anyone who saw him knowing he was in a relationship, had hurt your feelings—even more so because you’d apparently been waiting for him, wanting him this whole time and he’d just been holed up in the trailer, phone in hand but never dialing. 
  “Baby,” he mumbled against your head, leaning back and moving his hands to frame your face, thumbs wiping your tears away as he angled your head up at him so you could see the sincerity on his face, in his eyes, “you have nothing to be sorry for.”
  You hiccuped and started, “But I─”
  “Shh, no. Let me say this okay?” Eddie waited for you to nod and when you did, he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead and another to the tip of your nose.
  “You didn't overreact or do anything wrong, sweetheart. You were right. I knew exactly how she felt, and while I promise you I had no intentions of letting anything happen, I still shouldn’t have had her over. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve been jealous, mad, and really hurt. She called, tried to come over again and I told her I’m in love with you and I’m not interested in her. If she needs to replenish her supply, she’ll have to get it from Rick from now on. And I’ve never given her a deal. The only person who gets free weed is you, pretty girl.”
  You sniffled and his thumb stroked over your cheek once more. He added, “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to, so badly, but I didn’t know what to say or if you even wanted me to. I've been dying to see you, drove past the arcade a ton of times just to see if I could get a glimpse of you—your coworker, the scary one, flipped me the bird whenever she saw me, by the way.”
  That got a laugh out of you and Eddie grinned victoriously, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, “I love you. I love you so much.”
  “I love you, too.” Your gaze dropped from his eyes, the brown in them now swirling with warmth, to his lips, “Can I kiss you?”
  “Oh, baby. You don’t ever have to ask.” Eddie didn’t wait for you to make the first move, closing the small distance to press a deep, chaste kiss to your lips. Once you were returning his kiss, he got a little more insistent, you realized this was Eddie’s way of asking for reassurance and you were more than willing to give it to him, parting your lips so your tongues could meet again.
  The two of you made out on your bed at a leisurely pace as you reaffirmed your love for each other. When things got heated, and you soon found yourself on your back with Eddie on top of you and between your legs, he pulled away from your mouth with a smack, and winced.
  “I really want to have makeup sex, baby, but I’m about to pass out. I haven’t been sleeping well.” Rarely has Eddie slept without you, add in you being upset with him and he could barely sleep at all. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out while he was inside you and leave you unsatisfied. 
  You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss, “That's okay. We can fuck in the morning.”
  Eddie let out the most pornographic moan at the mental image and you laughed again as you shushed him, “Eddie! My mom will hear you!”
  Reluctantly he rolled off you to undress, yanking off his pants while you shimmied out of yours, pulled your shirt off and discarded your bra. When Eddie yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it towards the ground, you’d intercepted it and pulled it over your own head.
  Eddie gave you a very appreciative onceover before he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his hard-on away, “Down, boy.”
  You snuggled up to his side, and he pulled you into his arms, throwing your blanket over the both of you and letting out a sigh of content as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “Fuck, I missed this. Missed you.”
  “Missed you, too, Eds.”
  “Next time you get mad at me, I’m sitting on the hood of your car so you can’t leave.”
  “That’s fine with me.”
  “Or maybe you can just kick my ass instead of leaving.”
  “No, I like it too much.”
  Eddie’s chest shook with quiet laughter and you smiled, eyes fluttering shut. 
  This time, when sleep finally overcame you, your heart wasn’t in pain or beating loudly in your ears. It was nestled against you, and snoring into your hair. 
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mariespen · 7 months
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Apology ༊*·˚
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Protective!Rafe x Fem!Reader ༊*· Summary: “Don’t need people seein’ what’s mine, a’ight?” Warnings: mild sexual implications
based on this request!
︵‿︵‿༊*·˚୧‿︵‿︵
You tapped around Tannyhill in your perfect little pink heels, trying to fix your hair before your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, decided that it was too far past the time to leave. He had offered to take you shopping today as a half apology for being home at 2am last night on ‘private business.’ You’re sure that you would get the other half of the apology tonight.
“Princess..” Rafe called, warning you of his incoming annoyance.
Admittedly, you were pushing it by delaying the trip by about 2 hours in the first place. You quickly put on a thin layer of tinted lipstick and covered it with a thicker layer of gloss. Looking in the mirror and making sure your hair was even across your shoulders, you finally gave in and decided to make your way downstairs.
Rafe made you feel like you were meeting him for prom whenever you walked down the arching staircase. He looked at you with his eyes wide, a proud smile on his face.
“Gorgeous as always.” He said with a smile, spinning you around and grinning when you giggled at the small gesture.
You planted a soft kiss to his neck, pulling back and realizing that you had left a mark from your glossy lips. Your eyes widened while you tried to stifle any laughter that could slip.
“Hm?” Rafe asked, looking down at you with a love-coated look of confusion.
“Sorry, Rafe..” You moved your hand to start to wipe the faint and glossy red lip stain from his neck.
Your actions clicked in his head and he grinned down at you, pulling your hand away and shrugging casually.
“S’okay.” He said, proudly wearing your lips on his neck and brushing hair from your face before walking away to grab his keys, leaving you with blush erupting across your cheeks.
The small, pink purse that held your most important shopping necessities (lip gloss, mascara, and your pink digital camera) was strung up on his shoulder. Rafe gestured for you to walk out of the door next to him, waiting patiently as you smiled and bit your lip.
“What’s all that for?” He asked with a cocky smile, watching your ass sway with you as you walked out of the door.
“Nothin’..��� You said with a giggle, holding his hand as the two of you walked to the car. 
Taking you shopping at expensive designer stores was something that Rafe had always taken pride in doing. His Prada sunglasses sat perched on his nose while he had your arm linked with his, keeping you close to him. Rafe was never good at telling you how much you meant to him, so he figured he would try and show you by buying everything you could ever want. After all, his most prized possession was practically skipping next to him, giving him a smile that melted his entire heart.
Rafe was never bored, trying his best to take mental notes of everything that you touched with any interest at all. Watching his girl thrive with happiness because of the small things that he was doing for you made him smile right along with you.
Every time that you would buy something, you instantly started to carry it in the oversized bags. You still weren’t fully used to this luxurious treatment, even after two years, so through muscle memory you always held your own bags. “Here baby, let me.” Rafe would insist every time without missing a beat.
At the end of your trip, his arms were filled to the brim with different bags from every different shop that you strolled into.
“I can take some, Rafe.” You said with a giddy smile, feeling guilty that your only baggage was the pink purse that you had insisted on carrying yourself.
It took you by surprise when he glared at you, almost as a warning. You were confused, not realizing how much he was against you doing the things that he wanted to do for you. Putting everything in the back of his sports car, you helped yourself into the passenger seat and waited patiently as he got into the driver’s seat. Without any hesitation, his hand was resting on your thigh the moment he got in.
“Thank you, Rafe.” You said with a smile, kissing him and letting him deepen it, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as your head went to the hazy place it always did when he kissed you like that.
The drive home was always his favorite part, your excited and rushed voice as you tried to tell him about everything you had gotten all at once. He let out a breathy chuckle as you stuttered over your words, smiling bigger when you laughed with him. 
Back at Tannyhill, Rafe had pulled in all of the bags and lined them up in the corner of your shared room. Out of excitement, you started to film a quick haul of your favorite items for your friends. Leaning the camera on a windowsill and preparing everything was easy enough, but being able to actually film anything was the bigger obstacle.
Rafe stood to the side, moving into the frame whenever you turned around or even to the side with the intention to block out your ass. 
“Rafe!” You whined, a pout showing across your face.
He raised his eyebrows at you, cocking his head in a look of warning.
When you finally cut the video and watched the whole thing back, you realized it was no good in the first place. Most of the video was Rafe’s leg blocking any view that the camera could have of absolutely anything. You let out an angry sigh as he watched over your shoulder.
“M’sorry baby..” He said, trying to hide his smug smile as he hugged you from behind and breathed in the Chanel perfume on your neck, “Don’t need people seein’ what’s mine, a’ight?”
You rolled your eyes but it was hard to be mad at him when you already felt his lips on your shoulder. 
“I forgive you..” You said, pretending to be annoyed as he flipped you around gently and kissed you again, this time on the lips.
“No baby.. let me show you how sorry I really am.” Rafe said with a smile, deepening the kiss and letting his hand run down from your back to your ass.
You let Rafe take control, knowing that the second part of your apology was playing out perfectly.
(lmk if anyone wants a pt 2!)
︵‿︵‿༊*·˚୧‿︵‿︵
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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED
pairing ✭ bf!yunho x gn!reader
word count ✭ 0.8k
genre ✭ fluff
rating ✭ pg (but please still mdni. it's a personal preference.)
notes ✭ this is 1000% based on my ungodly work/sleep schedule. i'm a barista who works the morning shift, so like four times a week, i have to wake up at 4am to get to work at 5am. it's a blast 🙂👍
✭ ✭ ✭
The dread you felt when your alarm blared at four o’clock in the morning was always the same, but it was just as terrible every time. Sometimes the feeling was nullified by the presence of your boyfriend, who for some reason still wanted to stay the night despite knowing the terrors of your work schedule. 
But even his soft, snoozing face, most of which was buried under your blankets anyway, couldn’t bring you enough comfort. Though you did have to admit he looked adorable underneath your puffy green duvet, and the pink floral pillow under his head was the cherry on top. 
He barely stirred when you removed his arm that was draped gently over your waist and slipped out from under the cozy sheets and away from the warmth of Yunho’s body. You kissed him softly on the forehead before sliding off the bed completely.
Turning on the lamp across the room from your bed in an attempt to not wake your sleeping beauty, you sat down on the floor next to it to fix up your hair and apply as much makeup as you had the energy for. 
Yunho, clearly unbeknownst to you, watched your every little move from under the covers. He watched your nose crinkle in the mirror when your concealer came out a bit patchy, and he had to stifle a giggle when you nearly stabbed your tired eye with your mascara wand.
He knew you hated these mornings, and, even though he hadn’t told you this, that’s why he was here. He wanted to be at least a presence for you when you left the house hours before the sun even came up. If he couldn’t remove the burden from you, he would at least be there to help you through it.
He watched you peacefully as you went through your little routine, and he did it all without you noticing for a good few minutes. Until you caught his eyes in the mirror. You turned around to face him. Only his messy brown hair and his eyes were visible, everything else buried by your covers.
“Go back to bed,” you spoke softly. He rolled over to the edge of the bed, certainly tempted by your demands. You watched as help slipped off the bed and approached you, still wrapped in one of your fluffy blankets. “Yun, what are you doing?” You asked as he sat down behind you, wrapping you in his arms (and the blanket that encased them).
He smiled when you leaned back into his chest. “What can I help you with, baby?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
Chuckling and pinching your thigh, “Help. Do you need it?”
You pondered it for a second. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that he could assist you with something as simple as trying to leave for work in the morning.
“Did you eat?” he asked, resting his chin on top of your head. You shook your head. “Ok. Let me grab you something to eat, and I’ll make your coffee, alright?”
A protest bubbled up in your throat instinctively, but you resisted. Because god it would be nice to finally eat something before work. You just nodded, watching as he left your bedroom, keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
You hadn’t realized until you started dating Yunho a couple of months ago, how much you enjoyed being taken care of. You had spent so much of your life fighting to prove you were independent and self-sufficient. Trying to prove to the people around you that you didn’t need help because you were strong enough to do things on your own. 
But something about the way Yunho cared for you without making you feel weak had been really freeing for you. He genuinely just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. And you never felt like a burden around him. 
He came back in with your coffee in a travel mug, he added too much cream but the thought was there, and a muffin he’d found in your pantry. “Does this work?” He shook the muffin in his hand.
You smiled and nodded, “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Of course, baby,” he handed you the items before sitting down facing you with his back to the wall. He placed a hand on your thigh, “You want me to drive you?”
You shook your head, “Get your sleep. I’ll be okay driving myself.”
“You sure?” You nodded. “Okay. I’ll make us lunch when you get home, and then we can cuddle for the rest of the day, okay?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” you said after applying the last bit of lipgloss. “Thank you, Yun. I really appreciate your help.”
He smiled, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, “It’s no problem at all. I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”
The smile on your face made his heart swell in his chest, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
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lgwifey · 7 months
Text
Constant Complications
fem!reader x caius volturi
Summary : a short lil conversation <3
Warning : a few words of Google translated Italian
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"Can you believe him !"
Y/n had to force herself to not let out a small laugh as she watched as her husband pace up and down the length of their bedroom, poision lacing his words as he ranted about Aro's decicions of that day's court.
"No darling, i can't."
“I mean, the Cullens have broke our main law, and he just lets them get away with it."
The blonde king paused his pacing, turning to watch Y/n calmly removing her makeup before reapplying it so it would be fresh for the next court opening in a few hours. She sat on her vanity stool, now applying mascara as he waited for her attention to be on him. It did remind her slightly of looking after a toddler.
Y/n placed the wand back in its tube and into the makeup bag before turning to him, waiting for his impacient self to start the questioning.
"Yes ?"
"You agree with me, right ? Even if you were at one time a Cullen, you agree with me ?"
“Of course I do Caius. You do well to remember that my loyalties lie with you and the Volturi, not my brother and his new covern."
His eyes softened as she pulled him closer, leaving a small kiss on his frowning features.
“They broke our laws and they should have been treated accordingly, but if Isabella is Edward's mate then she'll become one of our kind soon. We must maintain power by showing we do not kill irrationally."
"Of course." Caius stood, fixing his suit before moving to the other side of the room, Y/n furrowing her brows at his random leaving before carrying on with her makeup, finalising her look by fixing the ruby necklace which hung between her collarbones.
“Caius ?"
The blonde spun around immediately, placing his rings back into their box and giving his full attention to the woman facing him.
"Carlisle didn't know they were here, i'll be informing him next time we meet, he'll deal with them how he sees fit but i'll make sure it's proper."
"And when will that be ?"
A sour look filled the raging vampires expression, he wasn't a fan of his mate’s brother, after he left the Volteri in pursuit of his own covern, Caius lost what little respect he had for the doctor. If it wasn't for Y/n, the entire Olympic Covern would have been wiped out before it started.
"I'm not sure... but it should be soon, i haven't seen him for just over two decades, twenty three years. "
"That isn't that long."
She just rolled her eyes, pulling her cloak over her dress and giving him a small hug seeing how they needed to leave to the throne room.
"Maybe not for you old man, but i'm only three hundred and fifty eight."
"I'm not old, Cullen."
The use of her maiden name as an insult left them both holding back laughter.
"Scilicet."
A few months had past since the incident with her brother's covern and to say Y/n was shocked when a letter arrive in their post for her would be a lie.
"Oh what a surprise. A letter, from Forks."
The queen threw door between the chamber entry and her bedroom open, closing it just as quickly.
She found her husband to be layed down on their king sized bed, stareing up at the ceiling and probably deep in thought on new ways to hurt court arrivals. Her voice was heavily dosed in sarcasm which only intrigued Caius, popping his head up from the pillow. He was holding back his smile at the upcoming lecture about how ungrateful her older brother could be.
“What are the chances that it’s a thank you for saving his creations lives ?”
“Non Sunt.”
Her words came out like a growl, adding in the dramatic eye roll, the blonde could tell that his wife’s upcoming rant was going to be spectacular.
Y/n gave a roll of her eyes before dragging one of her long stiletto nails through the envolope top, acting like a knife.
Her eyes flicked over the inked words in less than a second, taking them all in before growling at the paper and throwing it at her husband.
“Fantastic (!)"
Caius took more than a second to read the page, pausing for a moment before looking up in a confused fashion. He flicked his eyes over it again, at least three times.
“I've never come across that language before. What does this say? How can you read that? "
"It's English Darling, doctor's handwriting. I've just become accustom to reading Carlisle's letters every so often."
She placed a kiss onto his forehead before laying him down again so she could lean on his chest, her brother tiring her out with just the letter. Oh if she could sleep so would’ve blacked out from exhaustion.
"Apparently someone is creating a newborn army in order to kill the Isabella girl, since their covern killed this woman, Victoria's, mate the other year to protect Edward's mate. A lot of mortals are becoming suspicious of the deaths and Carlisle asks if we can do anything about it."
The king let out a sound of complaint before muttering an annoyed "can't we just let them kill her ?"
She tried her hardest to push back the slime growing on her lips from his conclusion, lightly shoved his shoulder, a grin meeting her in reply. Y/n adjusting her head so she could look him in the eyes. They were turning black, reminding her that they both needed some food soon before they both ended up starving.
Caius slammed his head back into his pillow.
“I know Darling, but we have to maintain the first law."
She moved so she could run her nails through his hair, knowing he didn't want to be the one to have to go to his brothers to explain the current Seattle situation.
“I'll go inform Marcus of the news, should I ask him to send Jane and Alec ?"
Caius’ tired out eyes opened up from a slow blink, leaning closer to the comforting circles being threaded and swirled into his hair. His voice came out soft, a tone reserved for Y/n and Y/n alone.
“Felix and Demetri would be a better pair to go."
Caius mumbled before squashing his face under a pillow, hiding from his responcibilities.
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ginkgo-phyta · 9 months
Text
Tantalizing / Spencer Reid
PART TWO: Link
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
Words: ~8k
Tags/Warnings: SMUT!!! like pure smut, AFAB fem reader, no usage of "y/n", light footplay, light nipple play, humping, unprotected penetration, slight dom/sub themes (nothing intense, maybe more like switch?), secret relationship, extensive foreplay teehee ;]
Summary: You haven't had good, quality, playful time with Spencer in quite a while- the team's schedule having been jam packed with cases. Its been making you antsy, expounded by how good your boyfriend has been dressing lately. You decide late one night that enough is enough, and you had to dig your claws into him. Even if people end up finding out about you two.
Author's Note: inspired by spencer's s7 outfits...they're so good. they make me wanna bark. this is my very first time writing smut! ahhh!! also i didn't know wtf to title this.
“Hi Spencer…” Your alluring voice purred into Spencer’s ears as he held the hotel door open for you, the seductive timbre curling up the back of his neck, brushing against his warming cheeks and flicking the ends of the hair that tickled the shell of his ear.
“C-come in, quickly”. He ushered you in, closing the door swiftly behind you. The stammer caused you to grin mischievously and you watched Spencer pause in the middle of the room- just staring at you hesitantly, taking in your appearance as he played with the hem of his sweater vest. You donned a half-sleeved retro style black dress with a white collar and small buttons going down the front- his favorite on you. The belt hugged your waist beautifully and the skirt that shaped out your hips flared out a bit at the end, falling right at the knee. With it you wore an assortment of dainty jewelry, very sheer black tights and short forest green heels. He had seen you just a handful of times throughout the day, and each time he had to find some excuse to leave your vicinity in order to hold onto even a sliver of concentration on the case.
“I’ve missed you all day, baby.” you start to step closer to him, twirling the ends of your perfectly curled ponytailed hair between your fingers. The soft thuds of your kitten heels sent tingles down Spencer’s spine. “Did ya miss me?” you questioned him with a little pout. Now mere inches away from him you traced your manicured fingers down the lapels of his blazer. Reflexively, his hands shot up to rest ever-so-lightly on the curve of your hips.
He gulped, watching you playfully bat your mascaraed eyelashes up at him, “Of course, I did.” Spencer cleared his throat, trying to gain some sort of composure, “I wished you could have come out into the field with me, but you need to get better first.” His right hand shyly moved up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to fiddle with the small golden hoop on your lobe. 
A dramatic sigh huffed out of your plump, glossy lips while fixing the knot of his tie, “I knoooow,” tone almost childish in reluctance, “I just love seeing you work.” You threw your arms over his shoulders, flashing him the beautiful smile he loved oh-so-much to see, “Which is why I’m here. Wanna see what you’re up to.” The bite of your lip, the glint in your eye, and the glimpse to his own lips made it clear to Spencer that you held a different motive. “Show me what you're working on?” you turn to make your way to the desk where dozens of papers and multiple files were scattered around. The purposefully enticing sway of your hips left Spencer captivated.
You had suffered a pretty bad concussion a couple weeks ago at the hands of an unsub weidling a copper pipe. The proceeding vertigo refused to relent its choking grip on your inner ear resulting in being “banned” from the field until a doctor’s clearance- or two, if Spencer could have his way. Usually this wouldn’t be all that big of a deal for you, but the case the BAU team was currently working on had Spencer away from you for most of the day, profiling the suspected murderer’s house in an attempt to find details that could lead to the missing victim. You were left twiddling your thumbs at the precinct. Well, not really, but it sure did feel like it at times.
“Ooo, the coded messages. Have my analyses helped you at all?” your voice pulled Spencer out of his debauched thoughts. His gaze landed on your face, all traces of seductive tactics were gone, replaced by eager and adorable curiosity. The unsub had several coded messages in journals scattered around his apartments that were proving to be incredibly difficult to crack. Spencer let out a breathy chuckle as he excitedly made his way over to sit at the desk. 
“Yes, they actually did. I was able to-” and off he went down the rabbit hole of a tangent. Although normally you would have intently listened to what he had to say, this time watching him passionately ramble reignited the little flame in your bosom. You leaned against the desk, letting your eyes wander over Spencer’s expressive hands and fingers as he gestured to different pieces of paper. You interrupted his spiel by sliding into the space between his body and the desk, using the toe of your shoe on the seat to roll the creaky swivel chair back.
“The working day is over, Spencie, don’t you think it's time to focus on better things?” Spencer's head snapped down to where your foot rested on the cushion of the flimsy motel office chair, right between his legs and dangerously close to his clothed cock. He followed the line of your nylon clad leg, over the skirt of your work dress, across the prominence of your chest, up the slope of your neck, and finally to your twinkling eyes. “I don’t deserve any attention, baby?” you tilted your head ever so slightly, your hand coming up to delicately play with the single-pearl necklace resting in the Plender’s gap of your collar bones. A delicious, forlorn sigh passed your lips as your fingers glided over your shoulder, head moving with it to look down and pick at the papers laying under your tush, “You didn’t really miss me, did you? All you ever think about is the bad guys.” And there was that pout again. God, you really knew how to make Spencer a mess.
“That’s not true!” he exclaimed immediately, voice cracking slightly at the end. Your eyes snapped to his offended face. You giggled as his Adam’s apple bobbed- you loved teasing him, it boosted your confidence and only egged you further every time. His reactions would always be your drug of choice. “I’m-I’m sorry.” was all else he could spit out.
“What for, honey?” you leaned back on your hands, head tilting to the other side this time.
“For not giving you my attention. I didn’t mean to…neglect you. I really did miss you. I always do.” Spencer’s hands came up to lightly cup your calf, still very aware of its proximity to certain progressively-aching parts of his body.
“Good.” your voice was matter of fact as you straightened up a bit. Spencer watched you pull at your hair-tie and release your ponytail with a few firm shakes, his lips parted with a sharp draw of breath. The foot between his legs briefly moved as you kicked off your heels before it settled back into its original position, this time inching further under his crotch.
He let out a quiet surprised “Ah-” at the contact, his grip on your leg lowered as he squirmed in his seat.
“You like my outfit today? I picked it out specifically for you.” your words turned breathy as you leaned closer to the quiet genius, “You’ve been dressing sooo nice lately, honey, I wanted to look just as pretty as you.” You picked up one of his hands that had slid down to grasp your ankle, pushing his palm flat onto your led as you dragged it up the limb. Under your dress it went, enticing Spencer closer to you in response until his chest hit your shin. His fingers curled onto your thigh, analyzing the smoothness of your tights before you stopped. Instead, you took his fingers and pressed them into the lacey top of your sheer black thigh-high stockings. Another little move, press, and pause, allowing Spencer’s fingers to analyze. They were latched to a garter belt. The realization drew a soft groan from the back of his throat as his forehead dropped onto your knee. He loved when you would wear these. Spencer placed a few barely-there kisses where he could, using his hand to explore your thigh, taking in the difference between your warm skin and the cool nylon. You relished in the way he dug his fingernails into your supple flesh.
“So beautiful…” his whispers into your silked skin tugged a devilish grin up your cheeks. You felt his eyebrows furrow and you could tell his lips were pursed. You craved for his big hands and chapped yet moistened lips to press all over your body, but the teasing was just too fun to quit so soon. Instead, you wove your fingers through his hair, pushing back and coaxing him to look up at you. His cheeks were flushed clove-pink, eyelids drooping slightly as he gazed longingly at your mouth. Spencer’s body tried to jump closer to you, his hands respectively gripped your upper thigh and ankle in a failed attempt to hoist himself up to your hypnotizing smile. You swore you heard him let out a faint moan as his crotch grazed against your lower extremity. This sparked a match in your head.
Much to Spencer’s displeasure you moved away from him, leaning back on hands placed firmly on the desk. He tried to move forward to follow you, but your clothed foot left his crotch to land on his chest, effectively stopping his movements. Spencer let out a huff as it began dragging down his torso, pushing him back into his chair, before its path ended. Your foot hovered over the obvious bulge in his black trousers. “I love wearing these tights,” you started nonchalantly, “They make me feel so pretty and put-together; so hot,” you added a tantalizing emphasis, as if the word was naughty. Your lightly padded toes circled around where Spencer wanted them the most. Instead they avoided it a little longer, going to trace the design of his belt buckle. He screwed his eyes closed- whether to contain himself or simply feel your movements was uncertain. He let out an impatient whine. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” The sole of your foot finally flattened on Spencer’s covered cock.
“Yes, yes, yes” he earnestly groaned out, the hand on your ankle desperately pushing your foot further onto his bulge. That’s what you loved most about fooling around with your beloved- always so eager. You bit back the moan of your own that threatened to spill as Spencer threw his head back. You watched the pads of his fingers dig into your ankle, the other hand slid down the back of your calf to meet its twin as his hips lifted slightly off the chair to grind into your foot. His length hardening and extending could be felt against your sole, slightly ticklish. The scene before you was addictive, the sounds escaping his lips so dirty and provocative. He tugged your leg to press you harder to him, causing you to almost slip off the desk. 
“Tuttutut,” you chided, “slow down, big boy. I never said you could do all that, did I?” As soon as your light scolding processed in his mind, all of his actions stopped. Spencer quickly shook his head while trying to catch his breath. “Answer me.” you tried again. His eyelids blinked open, gaze meek.
“No, no you didn’t.” He removed his hands from your leg, running them through his hair before plopping them onto the arms of the chair as he panted, “I’m sorry, baby, you just feel so good,” he paused to look at you, swallowing hard. “God, I’ve missed you.” His words were smile-inducing. You dragged your foot off of him, deliberately using extra pressure to earn a deep and husky groan. Spencer’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head before they closed again. You could see tiny glistening beads of sweat forming at the edges on his hairline. His eyebrows furrowed and his Adam’s apple shifted a couple times, miniscule twitches plucked the corners of his mouth.
“What are you thinking about now?” you were clearly amused, feet slightly kicking out like a giddy schoolgirl. Spencer didn’t miss a beat in responding.
“You. I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about h-how good you make me feel and how much I want you to touch me more,” another gulp. “How much I want to touch you.” His hands gripped the plastic chair arms, causing them to squeak. You giggled at this. To Spencer, you sounded wicked. 
“You want to fuck me, don’t you baby.” Your words immediately caused him to squirm, whines leaving his throat. He didn’t dare open his eyes yet. It wasn’t a question, you knew for a fact that’s exactly what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say it like that. Not yet, at least. The team had back-to-back cases for the last month and a half, and the two of you haven’t had a chance to actually have sex in the same length of time. You snuck cuddle sessions in each other’s hotel rooms a couple times, but kept them to a minimum as to not arouse suspicion from your teammates. You couldn’t take it anymore, especially with how good he looked today- how good he has looked the last few weeks, really. 
It wasn’t always that you showed your dominant side in bed, but it was all you could think about doing lately.
“Say it. Tell me you want to fuck me, Spencie.” 
Another squirm. Eyes squeezed shut. 
“Be a good boy, baby. Look at me.” your voice was sterner this time, though the playful edge hadn’t fully dissipated. It took a couple seconds but Spencer’s eyelashes finally fluttered open, “There we go,” you cooed. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, still worming a bit in his seat with arms glued to their spots. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.” you leaned your body forward, hoping to come off a bit more domineering. 
Spencer took in a deep breath, eyes flitting around the room in an attempt to avoid your gaze. You didn’t want to ask again, residing to clearing your throat to get your message across. He understood what that meant- you were getting impatient and if you didn’t get what you wanted you would simply stop. He didn’t want that. It’s not like the statement was incorrect, it just wasn’t something that was ever in Dr. Spencer Reid’s ordinary vernacular and he wasn’t yet in the headspace for it to come out without a second thought. He didn’t want to sound stupid. But, oh, he wanted you. Thus, he swallowed his doubts and began,
“Yes,” he nodded his head vigorously, eyes closing just for a millisecond, “I…” His gaze finally locked with yours, “I want to fuck you.”
Damn, the words sounded so incredibly, completely filthy dripping from Spencer’s innocent lips and you wanted to lick up every drop. Your pussy reactively clenched around nothing, and you wanted to surge forwards and push your mouth onto his in a hot kiss- half what Spencer himself expected (and wanted) you to do- but you controlled yourself. Instead, you remained calm, sliding off your desk and toeing your kitten heels back on your feet all while maintaining eye-contact with Spencer. You prowled towards him. His saliva hitched in his throat, heart skipped a beat, breathing quickened. He remained still while you leaned down towards him. Your minty breath fanned over his face, and Spencer wished you would just kiss him already. Of course, you knew that was what he wanted and so you wouldn’t let him have it just now. He watched your face as you brought your hand to his jaw. Your thumb dragged across his bottom lip and down, moving to pull the tie out of his sweater vest. You used it to pull Spencer closer to you, his chin tilted up, reaching out to connect your lips. Just as they were about to touch…you stopped. “Come here,” was all you whispered. And in a flash, you were standing straight up, using the tie to move him up with you. Backwards you walked, returning to your original position on the small desk. As you scooted up a bit, disregarding the important papers you were most definitely damaging, you hiked up your dress to allow your legs to fall open. Spencer moved to stand in between them, but much to his dismay you were too far on the desk for him to be able to feel the warmth radiate from your core. Obviously, that was done on purpose. 
Spencer knew he shouldn’t touch you yet, so he rested his hands on the desk close to your hips, only using the tips of his thumbs to brush back and forth between the lace of your stockings and the skin of your thighs. Good boy, you thought, but kept it to yourself. You slowly, yet deftly unbuttoned the cuffs and folded up the sleeves of his shirt, licking your lips at the sight of his hairy and veiny bare arms. You brought them each up to place a light kiss on the inside of his wrists, shifting up the watch on his left, before returning them to their original position. Spencer watched with bated breath and a parted mouth as you then began to seductively undo the top few buttons of your dress, pushing the fabric to the sides to allow Spencer to gaze down at the cleavage hardly contained by your lacy, deep green bra. (It didn’t escape him that they matched your heels). This enticed a moan from the disheveled man. He threw his head back, looking up at the bright ceiling lights in an attempt to grab his bearings, “You’re going to kill me.” he whispered. 
You held his face in both your hands, pulling it down to look at you again, “Good.” you whispered back in delight. Fingers traveled to the back of his neck, playing with and tugging at the ends of his hair for a minute before moving to push the dark gray woolen blazer off his shoulders where they then replaced the material with massages. Spencer's eyes shut at the pressures of your ministrations, forehead dropping to rest against your own as a feeling of peace and warmth flooded his veins. He almost forgot how horny he was- almost. He whined at the lost palpations as your hands changed course to loosen his tie. You left it on, opting to unbutton the top of his button-up. Your fingernails scratched at the exposed skin at the base of his neck and top of his hair-sprinkled chest before they danced up to trace his Adam’s apple. 
“I want you.” Spencer moaned.
“I know, baby.” you held his face between your hands again, firmly so he couldn’t move, “I want you, too,” Your face inched closer to his at a worm’s pace, and all Spencer could do was watch in impatient anticipation. “You’re just so fun to play with.” You nudged your nose against his, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his lips. 
“More, please.” He groaned, head straining against your grasp, his eyelids falling shut. 
You giggled sweetly, “Just a bit more, since you asked so nicely,” and you began to press more light kisses where you wanted to- on his top lip, the corners of his mouth, the little dip of his chin, his cupid’s bow, and finally the tip of his nose- your own lightly knocking against his with each proximal peck. Spencer sighed as you leaned away from him. 
“Please,” he breathed out. Spencer leaned into your right palm, eyelids opening to reveal a contented, dazed look.
“You said you wanted me to touch you, didn’t you, baby?” your hands started to move, down the front of his chest to creep under the hem of his dark blue sweater vest.
“Mhm…” he nodded excitedly, a content sigh leaving his nose. You pulled the light-blue button-up out of his trouser, the feeling of your cool hands splaying against the warm, bare skin of his lower abdomen had Spencer reeling. You dug the tips of your fingers down a path along his hidden abs and happy trail before curling them around to his lower back where you scratched long horizontal lines. You loved touching him, just feeling his skin. But, Spencer wasn’t the only one losing a little bit of patience. 
The sound of his belt buckle clinking undone caused his stomach to somersault. You roughly undid the button and zipper of his trousers before pushing them down just enough to grant you access to what you wanted. Spencer’s forehead thumped lightly against yours, finding its favorite spot again- well, second-favorite if we’re being honest. His breath quickened. You weren’t done teasing yet, though. Peering down, the outline of his hard cock straining against his boxer-briefs, a wet spot accumulating in the gray cotton, sent a jolt to your gut.
“Look at you,” your head tilted up, “so hard for me,” you whispered against his lips. Fingers snapped the waistband of his underwear against his stomach. “What a good boy.” Spencer’s brows furrowed against yours, prompting you to plant a kiss between them, leaving your lips there for a second while you dragged a single deep-brown-polished nail up the length of his covered hard-on.
He whined out your name, his voice hiccupping, “Please, please. Touch me.” The sound of paper crushing told you his hands still sitting by your sides were crumpling the files on the table. Spencer tried so hard not to move his hips, fearing you would stop everything. He resided to fist his hands and nudge his head against yours instead.
“Where?” Could you be any more cruel? Spencer groaned in frustration. Yes, you definitely could. He shouldn’t fight it.
“Please! My-my c-cock.” He swallowed hard to stop his stuttering. “Please touch my cock!” More sounds of paper rustling.
You giggled at his desperation, “Oh, honey, you’re so filthy.” Though, if you were being honest, you were just about getting there, too. Your swollen clit was pulsing in excitement, thin underwear increasingly dampening in your slick. If Spencer wasn’t standing between your legs, you’d be pressing your thighs together in an attempt to get yourself off. “If that’s what my baby wants...”
Finally, your right hand descended into his boxer-briefs, quickly using his ample precum to coat your palm before wrapping your fingers around his length. You gave him a good squeeze, prompted by the deep moan he let out, and started to jack him off. 
“Oh, my god.” Spencer groaned, head dropping down to your shoulders. His hands flew up to tightly grip the fat of your hips. His hair tickled your ears, hot breath summoned goosebumps across your chest. 
You hummed in response, hooking your heels around the back of his calves as you continued pumping. Your other hand moved to cup and press into his balls through his underwear. 
“A-ah!” he tensed up a bit. Spencer’s balls were always a very sensitive spot, almost as if he was biologically wired to be afraid of any touch there. It was your favorite thing to do though- especially wrapping your lips around them.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whispered in his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, “I’ve gotchu. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Your coos against his cheek immediately soothed the tension in his back and you could feel it radiate off of him in waves. 
“Yesss,” He mumbled through a groan, pushing his face into the side of your neck and moving his grip up to your waist, “So good.” He let his hips move now, and so did you. He lightly thrusted up into your fist as much as he could with what little leverage his narrow stance afforded him. 
You swiped a thumb over the head of his cock and lightly squeezed his engorged balls, causing him to gasp as his hips involuntarily bucked up. You felt his blazen, wet mouth drop open against your skin. Your hand turned and pushed, twisted and pulled, squeezed and tugged, Spencer’s moans growing louder and louder in your ear. Your eyes remained shut, relishing in the sounds he was making and the feeling of his burning skin against yours. Now, it was your turn to want more.
Suddenly, your hands left his dick. Before he could complain, you pushed his briefs down to fully expose him to the crisp air and pulled yourself closer to him in one motion, ignoring the crinkling of paper beneath you. He could feel the heat of your clothed core press up against his impossibly hard dick, causing the both of you to moan in unison. You rested your hands back on the desk and leaned away. 
“Touch me, baby.” you breathed out. 
Fuck, yes. Spencer thought as his hands surged forward, quickly undoing the last few buttons of your dress before roughly pushing the barrier open, fully exposing your cleavage. With a groan, his fingers pulled down the cups of your intricately designed bra to expose your perky nipples and his mouth immediately descended on them. Your head rolled back. The gasps and moans he was finally able to pluck from your throat were like music to Spencer’s ears. He sucked, nibbled, licked one areola while he pinched, twirled, and rubbed the other. His thumb rolled over the peak of your left nipple, pressing and dragging into the miniscule dip just how you liked it, causing the pit of your stomach to drop and your body to squirm. “Shit!” you hissed out, head snapping up to get a look at him. Spencer looked up at you in response, his eyes glinting with ferocity. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dug into your side, holding your body up to him. One of your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands to make him moan around your nipple, the other gripped at the knitted fabric on his back. He continued moving from breast to breast, catching his breath only for half-a-second while he pawed at them before latching onto the next. Your squirming movements increased, moans becoming more high-pitched as your hands pulled at his hair in an effort to get his head off of you. It signaled to Spencer: you were becoming overstimulated. His mouth pulled off of you with a pop! and you gasped in response. 
He let you catch your breath for a moment, watching the rapid rise and fall of your tits while you watched his face through smiling eyes. The corners of his mouth were slightly wet, lips swollen from all the sucking, hair incredibly disheveled from your man-handling. You couldn't help but bite your lip and hum. So pretty. Just as you were about to speak, Spencer leaned down again and began kissing all over your chest and neck. His big, warm hands moved from your ribs to splay over your back, still holding you up to hover over the desk- one in the middle, the other between your scapulae. Your own moved to wrap around his shoulders. He pressed sloppy, damp kisses along the tops of your breast and over your collar bones before moving to the column of your throat. His lips dragged to each side, stopping to nip and suck here and there. Even in his fevered motions, he remained careful not to leave visible hickies, no matter how badly he wanted to fixate on a single place. Once he was thoroughly satisfied in covering your entire neck with kisses, he focused on the sweet spot on the right side, exactly where your pulsepoint was. “Oh Spencer,” the honeyed words caused him to groan, egging him on even more. Your fingers dug into the back of Spencer's own neck, legs wrapped around his ass, bringing him further into you. One particular suck and bite had you twitch your hips up, successfully rubbing your pussy against Spencer’s poor, neglected cock. This spurred him on. He was doing so well, using all his willpower to focus on pleasing you. To be a good boy for you and not rut his throbbing, leaking dick against your hot, wet cunt, but you finally did it yourself- you started it- which meant Spencer could now lose himself in his desires. The pressure had him nuzzling his face into your neck once again, lips open to breathe heavily against your warm skin.
One of his hands left the middle of your back to travel down your body, moving to grip your thigh and pull you to wrap your legs tightly around his waist while his legs spread further apart. The heightened angle and gained leverage allowed Spencer's cock to drag up and down the entirety of your cunt with greater pressure, drawing out even more noises from the both of you. 
“Oh my fucking God, Spence. Feels so good..” your choked out words caused him to dig his nails into your skin. You’d definitely be greeted with little crescent shapes tomorrow morning. You leaned your head against his, hands flying to grab onto wherever you could- tangling in his hair, bunching up in the shirt of his broad shoulders, scratching against his neck. 
The pleasure seeped into every crevice of Spencer’s brain, consuming any thoughts that didn’t revolve around you. He held onto you as if letting you go meant sending the world into ragnarok. “God, I..” he mumbled, shifting his grasp on your thigh to firmly cup your head in his palm. He couldn’t stop rutting into you, hunched over your body like a crazed animal, even though it was impeding his ability to speak. He licked his lips, readying to speak.
“I wanna fuck you so badly, baby.” 
The intensity of his words, his piercing gaze, and the particularly long and deep drag of his bare cock against your dressed clit practically had you cumming. Your head rolled to hang back in the air, almost hitting the desk if it weren’t for Spencer's other hand on your neck holding it up, thumb draped lightly over your jugular. Your eyes tightly screwed, bottom lip pulled in by your teeth in a sorry attempt to heed the salacious noises leaving your mouth. The light feeling of your pussy fluttering almost had Spencer pulling your barely-there panties to the side and shoving his cock into you. 
The man should be lauded and awarded for his self-control, but the need to please you triumphed over every biological impulse or desire Spencer would ever feel. He knew what you wanted. He knew your favorite part about teasing him- playing with him, stringing him up- was the burning, fervent, feral kiss it resulted in. Even though it used all his willpower he stopped his thrusting, pulling a drawn-out whine from the back of your throat. “Nooo,” you huffed and pouted. 
With force, Spencer yanked your head up to bring your eyes back to his level. He stared into your wide, surprised eyes for a moment, breathing fast and hard before he pulled you forward. Your lips met in an impassioned embrace, hot and heavy. Greedy mouths wide as if to gorge on each other’s impurities. Both of Spencer’s hands grasped your head, fingers digging into the back of your scalp, almost pulling at strands of your hair. Yours rounded his torso, pulling him as close to you as possible. The feverish kiss was messy, loud, and erotic. Tongues wrestled, teeth clashed, noses collided. The taste of Spencer’s saliva was addictive, your mouth pushed into his to gain as much of it as it could. You swallowed his moans, he happily lapped up yours. The motions of your hips started up again, adding to the delectability. 
Spencer tried to pull away from you, but you wouldn’t have any of it. You locked your ankles around his waist and bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep his swollen mouth of yours. He rested his forehead against yours again, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. The feeling of your panties rubbing against your clit was almost becoming too much. 
“Please,” he breathed, “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you.” 
“We c-can’t,” it was your turn to stutter, too overcome with desire to be cocky anymore, “they’ll hear us, we’ll…we’ll get in trouble.” Moans cut into your words. What utter bullshit. The sounds of your debauchery filled every corner of Spencer’s modest hotel room and both of you knew in the back of your fucked-out brains that it was all already dancing down the hallway for everyone to hear. The continuous crumpling of papers; occasional thwap of files hitting the carpeted floor; the consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of the wooden desk beating against the wall; the sharp sound of your kitten heels wrestling with one another around Spencer’s waist; and, of course, the melodiously lewd octaves crawling up from each of your vocal chords.
He hated that answer. You swear you heard Spencer growl as he adjusted to roughly throw each of your legs over his shoulders, always keeping one hand behind your head, before bending over you once again. Your hands flew down to hopelessly grasp at the papers under you. He loved bringing out that surprised look on your face.
“A-ah, Spencer!” The new angle was intoxicating. Every single sensation was overwhelming your senses. The pinches of your dress still bunched up around your upper thighs and creasing in your elbows. The fabric of his vest was rubbing against your hardened and sensitive nipples. Spencer's right hand rested on the base of your throat while the other twisted in your hair. The back of your thighs and calves stretched at the unwarranted position. The smell of musk and sweat proliferated the air around you two. The friction of his stubbled balls chafed your reddening ass. Your bra cups and wire dug into your ribs, the thick belt of your dress pressing your stomach. And of course, the heavenly feeling of his burning, heavy cock rutting against your core. “I think I’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish your exclamation, voice cut off by a sharp gasp of pleasure. No, you weren’t, not yet. You wanted more, too.
Spencer was emboldened by the mixture of oxytocin and endorphins rushing through his veins and the entirety of you engulfing his senses. He gripped your hair tighter as his confidence grew and pushed his forehead harder against yours to look deep into your watering eyes, “I need to feel your tight pussy, baby.” His voice was quiet, yet stern and full- no hint of hesitation or embarrassment. No stuttering or stammering. Your head reeled. 
“Fuck me, please!” was all you could say before reaching down and hurriedly grabbing your panties, clumsily pulling them to the side- no toying, no dirty talk, no teasing. Spencer took the cue, using the hand on your throat to instead guide his dick into your entrance. 
Finally, he thought while he pushed into you as he straightened up a bit, letting out a guttural groan. The beautiful tone of your sigh tickled his ears. Your pussy was so wet, and in turn so was his cock. You sucked in the entirety of his length with little problem. The thick, pudgy walls of your cunt enveloped Spencer’s dick deliciously, warmth causing his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. He still held up your head, but his right hand moved down the outside of your thigh, fisting the lacy tops of your tights with a moan of your name
“Ah! You’re so big, honey.” You groaned in response, hands grabbing onto each of his wrists. It’s true, he was. Not the biggest cock in the world, but he stretched you out so incredibly every time. The perfect size.
You were so close to orgasming- you knew with just a few little movements you’d be pushed over the finish line. Nothing had to be said, though, Spencer was fully aware, but he wanted to savor this a bit more; give you a taste of your own medicine, if you will. He leaned in, pulling your head closer to his to envelope your lips with his again. Your legs sandwiched in between your torsos burned at the stretch, but you paid it no mind. 
“Please,” you begged shamelessly against his bottom lip. Spencer let out a small, breathy laugh, pushing your messed up hair out of your face. He pulled away from you to stand up straight, not without gaining a whine in response. You tried to keep your head up to watch him better, but you were losing your strength. With a light thud, you let your head fall against the wooden surface, the wall pressing against the top of your hair. He still wasn’t moving yet, and your orgasm ebbed slightly away. Spencer rubbed his big hands up and down the legs resting on his shoulders, massaging and kissing them wherever he felt like it. He took in the sight of you squirming and whining below him, fingers grasping at any of the random papers left on the desk they could reach, chest heaving. Your pearled nipples stood at attention, compelling him to ghost his fingers over them. He was barely touching you, but the moans and sighs would not stop leaving your throat. With a last kiss to your right calf, Spencer spread your legs open, toes of your kitten heels pointed out towards either side of the room. You watched him through hooded eyelids, hands going to support your legs for him. He tickled his nails deeply up the insides of your thighs, the light pain had you squirming and gasping even more which doubled as your movements had you shifting on Spencer’s cock. It felt so good, but the doctor held his own noises in, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“You said,” you pouted breathlessly, “you wanted to fuck me. Hurry, hurry!” You need to cum so badly.
“Isn’t so fun on the other side, is it?” his mischievous smirk mocked you. It was a lie, it was most definitely fun on the receiving end, but it was even more so on this one. His right hand slid up to cup your chin, thumb pressing onto your lips mirroring your earlier actions, “So desperate,” he murmured, hands moving to grab onto your waist. You huffed and shut your eyes, head rolling to the side. You tried to just focus on Spencer’s touch and feel, but he stopped further motions.
You were so beautiful; in every moment of your lives, but especially like this. Spencer paused for a minute, eyes boring into every centimeter of your figure to burn the image of you into his brain. Your hair splayed over the desk, reminiscent of an angel’s halo; eyes screwed shut with smeared mascara at the corners; glossed lips parted in desire. Oh, how delicious they’d look wrapped around his dick. Your inviting, stocking-clad legs held open just for him, manicured fingers digging into the back of your knees. Spencer’s cock excitedly twitched inside of you once his gaze reached your glistening, swollen pussy, the puffy lips gripping the base of him. His hands wrapped around your own, gripping tight, using them and your legs for balance as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. He was mesmerized, it was a sight he’d seen many times before and was sure to see much more of in the future, but it hypnotized him anyway. He watched as your pussy clenched around him in a failed attempt to keep him in or pull him back, but Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen just yet. His tip pulled out just a bit further before pushing back in a centimeter, repeating the sequence a few more times, playing with your gaping slit. You tried to suck his cock back into you, but Spencer resisted. One more motion and the head of his dick popped out of your clutches with an audible squelch. He reached down this time, grabbing and rubbing his length against your cunt- side to side, up and down. Moans and expletives repeatedly left your mouth, but Spencer continued with a drunken smile on his lips. He slapped the head of his cock against your clit, causing you to twitch and yelp. He loved the reaction, prompting a couple more hits with the same response.
“Spencie…” you whined, ungraciously curling your hips up to gain more friction.
He was about to give in, but there was one other part of you he needed to see. With a single motion, he gripped the outside of your thighs and pulled your body further down the desk, dick sliding against your clit. 
“Oh, shit!” you let out, your head craning to look up at him. 
Spencer roughly pawed at your dress. He first pulled at the top, but it wouldn’t open up more to give him what he wanted, the belt positioned in the way. He moved on, pushing the skirt even high up, bunching it around your waist. He sighed in delight. The delicate filigree of your black garter belt laying right below your belly button stared up at him seductively, begging him to touch her. Spencer’s hands had a mind of their own as they palmed over the fabric, fingers moving over and under the top band to snap it against your skin- just like you did to him. The sound wasn’t as sharp, nevertheless it brought him pleasure. You mewed, lips curled up in a satisfied smile. Internally, you chuckled. You knew he loved the silly little piece of lingerie. 
It was the last piece of the puzzle, the final key to the terminal level. Spencer grabbed two fistfuls of the garter belt and the bunched fabric of your neglected, cooling underwear and, without warning, swiftly pulled you completely onto his cock. You both yelled as he bottomed out, your eyes blowing wide open and jaw dropping slack open. 
“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Spencer breathed out. The look on your face egged him on. He pulled his cock fully out of you before using your clothing to slam you down onto him again. He stilled for just a second, catching his breath and steadying himself. Before you could utter a single syllable, he began fucking you like there was no tomorrow. 
The initial burn faded into sweet bliss. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around Spencer’s dick and he thrusted into you fast and deep. The bruising feeling of his tip pounding into your cervix gave way to a more intense sensation, your orgasm bubbling back up inside. His powerful motions caused your arms to fly up and Spencer deliriously watched your mouth-watering tits bounce up, down, up, down. Your hands pushed against the wall, trying to prevent your head from hitting it. Although at first you both tried to halter your noises, it proved fruitless. Inattentively, you let your moans and gasps and grunts stretch out to be as loud as they so pleased. The pleasure was so overwhelming, but the desire to watch Spencer fuck you was stronger. His hair flopped around at the sides, the strands at his hairline pasted to his forehead with sweat. He looked utterly pornographic, clothes still on but extremely tousled and uncentered. Sleeves pushed up, collar spread open, tie unevenly loose. His belt buckle clanged against itself, hanging from the trousers still draped around his mid-thighs. You removed one of your hands from the wall, pushing up the front of his body as much as you could, instead. You moved the bottom of his shirt and sweater vest to claw at his abdomen, focusing on the happy trail you loved to lick up. 
Spencer felt the same way as you. He fought to keep his eyes open, gaze flitting all over your body and face instead. You were intoxicating. When your own wandering eyes met his as your hand came down to his lower stomach, he let out a particularly loud moan, pounding into your even harder. The intensity had you latching onto his wrist. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel better, Spencer moved his thumbs down to your cunt, pushing your swollen pussy lips together around his moving cock before shifting them to press against your clit. 
“Holy fuck!” You let out, eyes screwing shut as your other hand left the wall to desperately match your existing hold on Spencer’s wrist. He rubbed in circles with one thumb as best he could, the other pressing into your fatty labia where he knew you had a sensitive spot. You began squirming, nails digging into Spencer’s skin, and you couldn’t even begin to care about your head lightly hitting the wall. “Spencer! I’m gonna come!” 
Spencer rubbed just a bit harder into your clit, earning an enthusiastic, “Just like that!” as your eyes rolled back into your head. He groaned at this, feeling your walls close around his dick. 
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he huffed, maintaining his pace and pressure, “come for me, angel.”  
Your core tightened up, and with just a few more thrusts your orgasm came crashing down on you. Waves of blinding white light washed over your body as you gushed around Spencer’s cock with a call of his name. The gripping and flitting of your pussy had Spencer groaning and he quickly shifted his arms, letting go of his hold on your garter belt and underwear to hold on to your waist, your limping legs hooking over his elbows. He didn’t let up his thrusts, chasing the orgasm of his own he was so close to reaching. He pushed the impending feeling down, not wanting to give up the sanctity of your hot cunt just yet, but he couldn’t stop his hips. 
As your orgasm began to subside and overstimulation prickled along your nerves, you tried to clench your legs closed, but Spencer wasn’t having any of it. He bent over you to push your legs open and press his forehead back onto yours. “Spencer!” you gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed and frantic. Your hands gripped his flexing forearms, “It’s too much!”
“You’re gonna take it,” he grunted out, fingers digging into the fat of your sides. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard for a second, his thrusts beginning to show signs of faltering. You felt so fucking good he almost wished he didn’t ever have to come, that he could fuck you through orgasm after orgasm without stopping. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
You nodded vigorously, babbling incoherently in agreement through frenzied moans.
“So you’re gonna take it just like this,” he gulped, pushing down a groan at your clenching pussy, “and I’m gonna fucking come inside of you.” His last words came out in a growl, drawing out longer moans from you as his thrusts started to include sloppier grinds. 
Spencer's pelvis grounded into your clit, his balls continued to slap against your ass, his erotic words mushed your brain, and soon the overstimulation pulling tears from your eyes turned into ecstasy and you neared a second orgasm. A strewn out, deep “Fuckk,” crawled from Spencer’s throat as your cunt squeezed him in quick succession, followed by your name being whispered and moaned repeatedly like a mantra.
You wanted to come again at the same time as him, and you were right at the edge, just as you knew he was, so you pushed him further to the precipice, “Spencer,” you pleaded breathlessly, “come on, baby.” You rested your hand on his cheek, urging him to open his eyes and look at you. “Fill me up.”
He groaned in response, head dropping down to press against the top of your breasts. A couple more sloppy, hard thrusts and he started “I’m gonna-”
But just before he could finish, you were jolted into stillness by a deafened boom, boom, boom. What the hell?
Someone was at the door.
You let out a yelp, Spencer’s hand immediately flew up to slap against your mouth. 
“Reid? What’s going on in there?” You heard from the other side of the door. It was fucking Rossi. 
Author's Note: muahaha >:D idk why but this is just how i imagined this piece ending. hope you guys liked ittttt, if you're reading this thanks for sticking to it. should i write a pt.2? i def already know how i'd continue (tho not smutty). did not think smut would be the first spencer fanfic i'd post. thinking of writing a follow up where spencer finally gets his release teehee. i'd love feedback and comments, pls! ty lovelies <3
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sturnioz · 3 months
Note
Matt would be the type to help his gf get ready to go somewhere 🤧💜 He'd (try to) style her hair and give kisses telling her how pretty she isss
waittttt i have something similar-ish written in the drafts for a next drabble. i'll post it under the cut here instead
you're sitting in front of your mirror on the floor, applying your most favourite shade of eyeshadow to your lids and mouthing the lyrics to a song that plays from your phone in the background, while matt clings to your back from behind — his arms wrapped around your middle and legs on either side of yours with his cheek resting on your shoulder.
his steady breathing confirms that he's asleep, and the hands that are splayed across your stomach that twitch every so often prove that he was dreaming. you didn't mind the stuffy position you were caught in, you found comfort in his embrace, you felt at ease.
although, you did find it difficult to do your hair, so you decided to leave it until the last second, not daring to move too much as you were afraid you'd wake up matt.
you knew he hasn't been sleeping well — being too busy filming youtube videos and travelling to places to get the best content possible. he was, undoubtedly, a people pleaser. and as much as you loved that about him.... you also hated it. it constantly caused disagreements between you both when you demand that he needs to put himself first.
but similar to you, matt is stubborn. he doesn't listen. he thinks he can carry the entire world on his shoulders. but then he crumbles and you're there with that 'i told you so' look on your face — but your arms are still open wide, waiting for him.
finishing your eyes off with a quick coat of mascara, you lean your body forward to get closer to the mirror with the lip liner in your hand, creating too much of a movement that the arms around your waist begin to tighten.
"don't move..." matt whispers tiredly, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder as he tries to tug you back into him.
"i'm trying to do my lips," you tell him while doing do, trying your hardest not to laugh and mess up anything up as matt awkwardly shuffles to get closer again. your eyes meet his through the reflection. "did i wake you up?"
"m'yeah — mhm." matt mumbles with a nod, unlocking his hands from around your middle to dip beneath the shirt of his that you're wearing, the pads of his fingers pressing against your warm skin. he caresses your stomach gently as he watches you apply the lipstick next, a tired smile falling on his face at the way you pucker your lips.
he almost asks for a kiss.
seeming as he's now wide awake, you take this opportunity to fix you hair, some hitting matt across the face as you move your head around but he blows it away carelessly before offering to do it himself.
his hands slip away from beneath the shirt to grab what was needed while you ramble on about something passionately which results in you moving your head a little too much for matt, and he tugs your hair in warning, sending a small glare through the mirrors reflection before resuming.
matt does what he's seen you do a million times before — copying your routine with precise before he manhandles you around to have you sit facing him on his lap. you remain unfazed by his actions, allowing him to do as he pleases, and he holds your face in his hands as he carefully checks over your hair for anything out of place, but he smiles widely when he spots none.
"looks good?" you ask him.
"mhm — you look pretty, baby." matt compliments you, and he leans forward for a kiss but you yell about your lipstick and not wanting him to smudge it, and you throw your head back as you threaten him, but matt refuses you listen as he grabs your face and yanks you towards him, grinning as he captures you lips in a tender kiss.
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probably-writing-x · 2 years
Text
Eyes On You
Summary: You were practically the princess of Outer Banks, everyone knew it. So, when you started dating Rafe Cameron, to say people had something to say about it would be an understatement. And there was only so much of it that the two of you could take.
Warnings: Some sexual references, cursing, Rafe being a protective bf
Author’s Note: Saw a tiktok about male book characters leaning against doorways and it inspired this entire story :) Enjoy and send in any requests you may have
Not my gif
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“Babe can you help me?” Rafe calls out to you from the bedroom, where you’re fixing up the last of your makeup, there’s a stress to his voice.
“What have you done?” You laugh, setting down your mascara and walking across to the bedroom.
He was stood in front of the mirror with his bowtie dangling around his neck, clearly having given up on the fight against it.
“I hate these things,” He grumbles, dragging a hand over his hair.
“Leave your hair alone,” You hit his hand away, “Come here.”
You fold the silky material pieces over themselves until it resembles the bow shape and fixing it in the centre of the top of his shirt.
Rafe lifts his hands up over yours and pulls both of them to his lips to kiss you, “What would I do without you?”
You hum with his contact as he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hands three times. The two of you hadn’t managed to get out of going to one of your family’s events - full of people that thought the world of themselves, and had enough money in the bank to act like they could prove it. Rafe, of course, would be by your side, as much as he hated these things too. It was all shaking hands and comments on how you were ‘too good for him’ - though your parents and their friends thought of you as too good for everyone. You’d picked out a pale blue suit for Rafe, one that brought out a brightness to his face, and you were wearing a navy dress that matched the dark blue of his bowtie.
“You look beautiful,” He comments, leaning down slowly to press a kiss to your lips, delicate as if he’s worried he’ll damage the art in front of him.
“Thanks babe,” You smile, fixing the messier strands of his hair, “Are you ready to go?”
“Am I ever?”
~~~
Inevitably, the two of you were late by the time you both walked in. There were people spilling all over the ballroom venue, faces you recognised from growing up amongst faces around others that your parents were likely trying to impress. Everyone that saw you greeted you warmly, telling you that you had grown up too fast. With each person that you had to force pleasantries with, Rafe could see you getting more and more tense. He was sure this kind of night was your idea of hell.
“I’ll go and get us some drinks, darling,” He mentions, placing a hand on your back, “What do you fancy?”
“Anything, I don’t mind,” You smile at him and he squeezes your hand before disappearing through the crowd.
You were in conversation with your old neighbours, who were telling you about a new holiday home they’d just bought, and you’d completely lost interest.
“So, you and Rafe are still together?” The woman asks, raising her brows just momentarily.
“Yeah, over a year now,” You smile, even the mention of his name making your stomach flip like it did when you’d first got together.
“Are you sure, honey?”
The question makes your heart sink, and you lose your words.
“I’m just not sure if he is the one for you,” She sighs, as if her words are said with good sentiment.
“I’m sorry?”
“We just want what is best for you,” She squeezes your arm and you pull away from her touch quickly.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You manage to force out, your eyes flicking across the room. You don’t find Rafe amongst the faces but you know you need to get away.
So often people tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t enough for you, as if he were a boy damaged beyond repair and he would never be the boyfriend they expected you to have. They didn’t see the way he remembered all of the little details you told him, how he bought you flowers whenever he felt like it, how he made sure you knew he loved you every day. He was everything, even if they couldn’t see it.
~~~
Rafe was caught in conversation with two of the boys you’d gone to school with. They reminded him of himself from a few years ago, before he’d met you and before he’d changed. They spoke of nothing if they weren’t bragging, finding a way to mention their wealth or their status or their girls at every chance. The latter was their current topic.
“Listen, she was fit, but like nothing more than that,” One of them shakes his head, taking a long sip of his beer.
Rafe was hovering awkwardly between them, your champagne glass in his hand still waiting to be able to get it to you. He had to make a good impression at these things, he knew what they all thought of him otherwise.
“I mean, come on,” The boy scoffs, “I’m not tying myself down unless shes at least an eleven out of ten.”
Rafe is holding back a wince when the attention turns to him.
“Cameron, you still with (Y/N)?”
He pinches at the lobe of his ear, avoiding the anger that would normally course through him, “Yeah, yeah, still together,” He nods.
“Fuck, man, I don’t know how you do that shit,” One of the boys laughs, “One woman?”
“Oh, come on, this is Rafe Cameron, there’s no way he’s only fucking her.”
Rafe can’t do it for much longer, his grip tightens around the glass of champagne as if it was grounding him to you.
“Yeah, (Y/N)’s fit as fuck but she was always uptight in school, she’d never let anyone fuck her.”
Rafe sets the champagne glass down on the table, “Alright, fuck you,” He swings back his arm and launches a fist towards the jaw of the boy talking before anyone has a chance to stop him, before he can find any justification to not do it.
He pulls his hand away and the other boys scramble to their friend like a litter of lost puppies, pulling him up to stop him from stumbling over. Rafe shakes off his hand and picks up the champagne once again, directing himself towards the door before any of them can get a hand to him.
He pushes his way through a few more people until he gets to a clearing nearer the back of the room, where you were leaning against a doorframe, your back to him. Rafe comes up behind you, a hand over his head to grip the top of the doorframe as he towers over you from behind. You turn over your shoulder and instantly brighten at the sight of him.
“There you are!” You beam, a smile creasing the sides of your eyes.
“Here you go, m’lady,” He swings his arm around to bring the drink to you and you instantly notice the blotchy redness on his hand, the kind that is quickly turning into a bruise.
“Rafe, what happened?” You grip his hand gently before he can pull it away from you.
He sniffs and clears his throat, “Those assholes from your school.”
“Okay.”
He’s surprised at first, no anger in you for him getting into fights, no worry about the people he’s hit, no ‘please don’t do that again’.
“Okay?”
You hum and lean back a little into his chest, lifting the flute to your lips and finishing the glass.
“Alright who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” He quips, bringing a hand up to massage into your shoulder.
“I hate it here,” You sigh, setting the glass down and leaning even further into him.
He rubs at your skin more, leaning down to press a kiss in the spot, his lips lingering before he perches his chin on top of your shoulder, “Do you want to get out of here?”
You nod, turning your head to kiss his temple, the sort of contact that makes him smile like a boy with his first crush.
“Let’s go home,” He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, the other hand falling to the bottom of your spine to guide you through the crowd.
“Wait a second,” You mention quickly, ducking out of his grip when you spot a waiter carrying a fresh bottle of champagne across the room of people.
You swipe it from him, spilling some of the golden liquid over your hand, hurrying back over to Rafe.
“What the-“ He laughs, looking at you with an admiration in his eyes that he never lost.
You grab his hand tightly in yours and pull him through the crowd, both of you pushing past bodies like they weren’t even there. You know they’re all looking at you, like you were the King and Queen’s princess, looking at Rafe as if he were the boy that corrupted you. But you don’t care. His hand is in yours and there’s enough adrenaline pacing through your veins for you to just keep running with him.
When the two of you break through to the outside, Rafe spins you into his arms, wrapping his grip around your waist and pulling you into him. You’re both breathless, a wildness to your eyes as if you were two escaped convicts. He brings a hand up and cups your cheek, kissing you with pressure like he’s forcing you to remember that he loves you. That, in that moment, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved you more.
And as much as all of those guests’ eyes had seemed to be burning into you all night, there was nothing else that mattered when Rafe’s eyes were on you, telling you everything that his words never could.
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