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#me the girl wearing the cross necklace
dr-lizortecho · 2 years
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me: wow, I might be semi-interested in pursuing something romantic for the first time in four years. Like it’s something I might actually consider cause I’m feeling a particular kind of lonely, and could feasibly have the time and energy to dedicate to another being
God: … yeah. no.
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ebbpettier · 3 months
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*sees you're into Simon Snow and also Percy Jackson*
*points*
YOU LIKE CHOSEN ONES AND THE INEVITABLY OF THE PROPHECY BUT NOT THE WAY THEY THOUGHT! YOU LIKE HEROES BURDENED WITH RESPONSIBILITY BUT WHO FEEL OBLOGATED TO GO THROUGH WITH IT DESPITE THE MORALLY QUESTIONABLE POWERS THAT BE THAT PUT THEM IN THIS SITUATION IN THE FIRST PLACE! HAHA!
(I also enjoy these things hello)
ALL OF THIS IS TRUE!!!! ADDITIONALLY I'M ALSO BISEXUAL AND I LIKE SWORDFIGHTING AND CHARACTERS WITH THEMES
also this picture is awful bc the lighting in here is awful but
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luveline · 6 months
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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
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eufezco · 10 months
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IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE BABY — FINNICKODAIR x FEM!READER
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IN WHICH Finnick is interviewed by Caesar.
Caesar Flickerman greeted Finnick. Everyone in the audience stood up from their seats when he entered the stage, men chanted his name and women shouted for his attention. ―Thank you, thank you so much. ―Finnick smiled and waved to everyone in the audience who had welcomed him so warmly. He was especially handsome that night. The white shirt that your stylist had put on him had a large opening in the front that went down to almost his belly button, somewhat revealing for the Capitol but not vulgar at all. The bottom part of his outfit was a skirt that reached his ankles and the necklaces made with materials from your district rested on his neck.
From your place backstage you could appreciate how Finnick's green eyes shone under the spotlights. They also had that lovely glow when he saw you arrive at the back of the stage with your outfit. He wanted to tell you how pretty you looked, he wanted to help you relax before going on stage with Caesar. Finnick knew how uncomfortable those questions, often more private than they should be, made you. But it had been days since the last time you talked to him and you didn't have a Capitol camera on you, and that didn't seem to be the moment when you were going to speak to him again.
You had taken the opportunity to look him up and down when he was not aware of your presence. When his eyes fell on you, you acted unbothered, with a serious face and not paying attention to him for even a second. He was by your side with his hands behind his back minutes before he went onto the stage, you were paying attention to the tributes being interviewed but Finnick was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
―You look great. ―Finnick dared to say. He didn't receive an answer from you, not even a look of disdain or a grimace. He pressed his lips together, defeated, and stretched the muscles in his back as the host introduced him.
You stayed backstage, watching him with your arms crossed and with still no expression on your face. The trip to the Capitol had been tense. Very tense on your part. Your hostile attitude hadn't made things easy for Finnick, your mentor Mags, and even yourself. From the instant your names came out through your stay at the tribute's hotel up to that moment, you had been avoiding Finnick. Mags had tried to bring you back to him, but you were pissed off. Pissed off with the Capitol for putting you in that arena with the love of your life, with Finnick for pretending that everything was okay, and with yourself for not letting them kill you in your first games.
You looked over your shoulder when a girl covered in white fabric appeared in your visual field. She came closer to you, accompanied by Effie who was constantly arranging her dress, and you rolled your eyes. ―A wedding dress. Of course. ―You pointed out loud enough for the girl to hear you.
You and that girl liked each other. Very similar personalities, highly challenging to the Capitol, difficult to contain for President Snow. You wouldn't say you two had a friendship but your encounters during training definitely could have been the beginning of one if you were not just a few days away from fighting for your lives in the games. Again.
―Snow made me wear it. ―Katniss confessed.
You looked up and down at her and nodded.― Make him pay for it.
―Finnick, it is an honor to have you here with us tonight. ― They both sat and Caesar grabbed both FInnick's hands, shaking them. The smile remained on Finnick's lips. ―We thought we would never have you back but we're so glad that we get to see you once again. Let's show some love to Finnick Odair, ladies and gentlemen!
At that moment the people in the audience applauded and shouted for him again. Your eyes were still focused on your partner, the boy was very relaxed, grateful for all the affection he was receiving from the people of the Capitol. Gosh, he was so good at pretending. At that moment your dress started to feel too tight and your stomach grumbled; was it because of the crappy food you'd been at the Capitol? Because of how tight was the dress around your body? Or was it because of how disgusted you felt with the person Finnick became when a Capitol camera focused on him? Even if you knew he was faking it, you didn't like seeing him like that.
―The pleasure is always mine, Caesar.
―Finnick, we saw that dramatic reaping day that took place on District 4 and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we lived it very intensely. ―Murmurs could be heard in the audience agreeing with the host. Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. ―First, your name comes out, ten years after your first victory, and then her name comes out and we can see how your expression changes completely. Look, look at that. ―The images from that day played on the big screens for the people to watch and you had to look away.
You swallowed and tensed your back, all the memories of that day came to your head unwantedly. His name. Your heart feeling heavy inside your chest. Him walking to the center of the stage with a smile on his lips. His eyes on you telling you to not worry. Your name. Gasps from the people of District 4. Finnick's jaw clenching. It became difficult for him to breathe. You walking to the center of the stage next to him with no smile on your lips. You shook hands. People clapped for you two.
―Are you okay? ―Katniss placed her hand on one of your shoulders and you nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing.
―People in District 4 love drama. ―A familiar voice said behind you two. The girl in her tree and wood-inspired outfit approached you and Katniss with a devilish smile on her lips. ―It's already done, girl. Your name came out already and you are here. Get yourself together. Snow is watching, don't embarrass yourself like this.
The relationship you had with Johanna Mason was complicated. You did consider her somewhat of a friend but sometimes she was too much. Finnick definitely knew how to deal with her better than you.
―We have been informed that she has expressly asked not to be here with you tonight, how does that make you feel?
―Well, it makes me feel sad, obviously. As everybody knows, she is a very special person to me and I think we could handle this situation much better together. Things have been difficult but I strongly believe we are the best allies, in and out of the arena. The love I have for her keeps me from having any negative feelings about her not wanting to sit with me here tonight, Caesar. I just hope that you all can enjoy her later.
―I'm sure we will have the best time with her. She's lovely, very lovely. ―People clapped. They loved Finnick. You could see it on their faces every time the boy opened his mouth, how they nodded their heads to everything he said, empathizing with him. In a way you were grateful for it, when the time came you knew they would rather save him. ―As you said, she'll be sitting here later and we know she's back there now, probably watching us and waiting for her moment. Finnick, is there anything you'd like to say to her?
Finnick nodded and acted for a few seconds as if he was looking for the words. As if he hadn't had this planned. ―My love, you have my heart. All eternity. And if I― if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.
―Oh, Finnick! You're going to make our hearts melt! When did you became such a loverboy?
―I've always been, Caesar.
They all laughed.
Johanna giggled and you ran your hand over your face. Maybe Johanna was right and the people of District Four were too dramatic. Katniss was left speechless, he and his ability to make those things sound natural surprised her. He reminded her of Peeta.
―Forgive me but I must ask because I know people are dying to know. Is everything okay between you two? Has the Quarter Quell been the cause of any couple crises?
People in the audience laughed again and so did Finnick. He didn't find it funny but laughed anyway which made you angrier.―No, that has not happened, no. We have had our ups and downs since that day, as you said, there have been a lot of emotions going on. We had plans for the future but we are trying to get through it.
―I'm sorry, Finnick, but you can't leave us like this. Plans for the future? Tell us more about that.
―We were trying for a baby.
That statement hit you like a big wave and swept you breathlessly to the seashore. You heard Johanna chuckling and Katniss, on the other hand, was as surprised and as confused as you were. People in the audience got up from their seats, demanding more information, asking if there was a wedding planned, and questioning if you were already pregnant.
―No we weren't. ―You mumbled getting the attention of the two girls who were with you. ―¡No we weren't! ― You tried to go on stage, angry like the sea during a storm and about to do something foolish that you would regret later and for which Mags would tell you off. Johanna was quick to step in front of you to prevent that from happening. Effie let out a little scream, seeing the scandal that was being made.
―Johanna, move.
The girl shook her head at you, smirking. That smirk. She knew all along.
―I'm not asking, Johanna. Move.
Johanna, again, shook her head at you.
―¡Ladies! Let's mind our manners and let's calm down. Please. ―Effie intervened, aware that there were people from the Capitol backstage watching. Katniss was behind you, silently rooting for Johanna to let you out.
―He knows Snow is not canceling the games. He's saving you.
―I do not need him to save me. I do not want him to save me. If I have come all this way, it is to save him.
Johanna smiled, mocking you. ―Well, he has gone ahead of you.
―What's going on? ―Peeta appeared and Effie jumped on his neck to fix the white suit he was wearing.
―She's pregnant. ―Johanna answered him.
―I'm not.
―Congratulations. ―The boy from District 12 told you sincerely.
―¡I'm not pregnant!
Seeing that people in the audience were not calming down after Finnick's news, Caesar mumbled something in the boy's ear. Unlike the rest of the tributes who had already been interviewed and who remained on the stage, Finnick was sent to the back of it.
―Girl from 4, you're next. ―A man from the staff announced and grabbed your arm. Caesar was distracting the audience while they got you ready to go out.
―Get off of me. I'm not going anywhere. ―You shook your body and managed to free yourself from the grip that was eager to push you on stage. You were still face to face with Johanna who had not taken a single step backwards and waiting for Finnick.
He said goodbye to the audience and walked to where you were. He knew what was waiting for him there, an even angrier you who would not understand why he had done that. All this time moving around the Capitol and with much of your relationship on display for everyone, and you still hadn't learned how to play the real game.
―I'll go for her. I'm ready. ―Peeta offered instead of you. The man seemed satisfied and before walking Peeta to the stage, he warned you that you would go after the boy from District 12 whether you liked it or you didn't.
Finnick walked with his head down. You were no longer interested in Johanna but you were surprised by the way she and Finnick shared a look of complicity when he passed by your side. His eyes never landed on you but they did on his friend. You turned around and walked after him. Your fists were close, your jaw was tight.
You pushed him by his shoulders, now it was Finnick who seemed unbothered. You pushed him again, trying to get any reaction but instead, he continued walking as if you did not affect it. He was calmed, he did what he thought it needed to be done. People in the Capitol will have mercy on you, you will have plenty of sponsors and you will make it out alive. But you didn't want that. You wanted him to be the last one standing, you had already discussed that with Mags. The woman assured you that she'd do anything in her power to get Finnick out alive. ―Why did you do that to me?! Who gave you the right to do that?! Finnick I swear to God if you don't speak to me right now!
―Oh, now you want to talk, don't you? What happens if now I don't feel like it? Would you like that? Would you like me ignoring you like you've been doing with me for the past days?
By the way his eyes looked at you and the way he had said it, practically spitting the words in your face, you knew he had been holding it in for days. You shook your head. ―It's not the same.
―Oh but it is. Trust me. You just don't want to see it. And for your information, it was Mags. She gave me the right.―He turned around and answered your previous question. ―Oh, you didn't expect that answer? Did you think you were the only one she’s made promises to?
You clenched your jaw. You did think that. Whatever she'd promised Finnick would contradict the promises she had made to you, so she was clearly fooling one of you two. And you knew it wasn't Finnick.
―You made me look weak!
―But you're not so why do you care? Right now you have more than half of those people in the palm of your hand. You could need the stupidest thing in the arena and they would send it to you without even thinking about it. They will make you the victor.
―I didn't want that! I didn't want that and you don't even care!
―You're right, I don't.
―You fucker. ―You threw yourself against his chest, hitting him with your small hands compared to his body. He was still standing on the spot while you beat him with tears in your eyes out of anger.
―Come on come on, give him a break. ―Haymitch, who had gone backstage to be with Katniss when he saw Peeta come out on stage, tried to separate you from Finnick by grabbing you around your waist.
―Why don't you save all that anger for when we're in the arena? It'll be better.
―Finnick! ―Effie said, shocked.
―I fucking hate you. ― You mumbled. While Haymitch managed to get you away from Finnick, your hands grabbed his shirt, he wasn't going to get off that easy, not after that comment. Your body shook against District 12's mentor.
―I could really use a helping hand right now, you know? ―Haymitch struggled to hold you. Katniss and Johanna freed Finnick from your grip and he left. You tried to go after him but obviously, you couldn't do anything against three people. As you continued to fight to free yourself from his grasp, Peeta's voice sounded louder over the loudspeakers, getting your attention.
If it weren't for the baby.
You looked at Katniss and she looked at you, still trying to process what had just come out of Peeta's mouth and trying to find a way of not going into that stage and choke him to death. Now you were going to be the one who was going to hold her down.
―Well, congratulations to you two. You are going to be amazing moms if you make it out of this one alive.
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can you write smth where the reader takes off a necklace that 42!miles bought her like everytime she gets mad at him. and he’s like ‘where’s the necklace i bought you?’ and the reader says smth like ‘it’s my jewelry box 🙄’ and in the end he puts it back on her after they made up. hopefully this makes sense 🤍
૭ jewelry box — ꒰ e!42 miles x fem!reader ꒱ !
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summary miles bought you a necklace that you wear all the time, except for when you two fight. miles finally caught onto it and confronted her.
request by anonymous
a/n i haven’t posted in a long time, sorry 😭 i’ve been on vacation and i’m js in a slump, so writing this to feed u all 🤲
warnings miles being somewhat possessive
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Miles eyed your neck, your usual Tiffany necklace not hanging from there. He raised an eyebrow and made his way towards you where you stood with your arms crossed in the middle of your room.
“Mamí, where’s your necklace?” Miles walked closer to you, as you looked down at your neck. “In my jewelry box.” You responded flatly. He scoffed and shook his head.
“Nah, it don’t belong there. Belongs ‘round your pretty neck,” he made his way towards your jewelry box. “Turn around, ma.”
You scoffed and stood still, not turning. “Don’t change the topic, Morales. I’m still mad at you.”
Miles smirked as he walked behind you, whispering in your ear. “Sure, you keep saying that.” He moved your hair to the side, hooking the necklace around your neck. “That’s better, isn’t it? Can’t let such a pretty little thing hide,” he smirked before he walked in front of you. You rolled your eyes at him.
“All you care about is if I have my necklace on?” You raised an eyebrow at him. He chuckled, then paused for a second.
“Y’know I hate it when guys stare at my girl. You can’t blame me, if you were me you would be the exact way. My girl is mine, ‘n only mine.”
You rolled your eyes at him again, before smiling. “Yeah, yeah, alright. We get it, you’re possessive over me,” you teased. You wrapped your arms around him. “I can’t be mad at you for too long, can I?”
Miles smirked as he wrapped his arms around you. “Nah, never. At least I know I’m possessive, can’t stand it when other guys breathe the same air as mi princesa,” he looked down at you and kissed the top of your head. “‘N don’t you ever take that necklace off again, got it? I paid good money for that, princesa.”
You looked up at him and rolled your eyes at him before chuckling. “Yeah yeah, I got it.” Miles smiled down at you before connecting your guys’ lips, happy to be with his girl.
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bengals-barnesbabe · 20 days
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The Girl Behind the Camera
Pair: Joe Burrow x Videographer!Reader
Descr: When The Bengals hire a new social media manager, people start to notice a certain QB coming out of his shell.
TW: mentions of sex, nudity, gossip, racism, classism, invasion of privacy, protective boyfriend!Joe.
Main Masterlist
WC: 2083
*. * ·┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ 。˚ ✧
"Which of your teammates would you rather be stranded on a deserted island with for 72 hours?"
Was the question being asked on the way out from practice. From behind the black and white jerseys Joe could hear the bouts of laughter from each answer. Most of his more outgoing teammates thoroughly enjoyed walking up to the woman with the camera on a day to day basis, while others like him avoided making simple eye contact with her.
But today's Friday and Fridays are very special on this practice field. Not only do they have shorter practices but the recurring sports journalist major with a sometimes too sunny attitude, is replaced with the new silk press and brown glossy lips-wearing photographer that could stop him in the middle of the busiest highways just with her smile.
"Hey 9!" You beam as he approaches you with rosy cheeks. "Wanna hear today's question?"
I'd listen to anything coming from those pretty lips.
"Sure, whatcha got for me?" His eyes are solely focused on the way your glittery nails push back your dark brown locks and the movement of your lips rather than the content flowing from them.
He stands there motionless for a minute contemplating his answer, when in reality he just wanted to see how long you'd hold his gaze before squirming. 45 seconds is the current record.
"Joey, come on.."
25 seconds, he must look especially good today.
He smirks as your pout forms, or maybe he just likes giving you more work to do in the editing room (aka tonight at his place).
"Are you going to answer or should I shut off the camera?" A chuckle arises from his belly as you attempt to make an authoritarian stance with a smooth caramel leg jutted out and your glistening arms crossed over your chest.
Rolling your eyes at him, you start to ignore him and play around with the camera, before his voice interrupts you. "Alright, I'll answer. Only for you though."
He does his best to revert back to factory settings (aka grump mode as you like to call it) when you give him the go-ahead. "I guess, I'd take Ja'Marr. Hopefully, he doesn't get sick of me in 3 days."
You let out a cute giggle at his response recapturing his gaze from above the camera. He'd make it his life goal to keep that sound pouring from your plump lips.
So he adds to his answer. "Or I'd take my girlfriend, she loves beaches you know. She's kind of the yin to my yang." He smirks nodding to your necklace.
Flustered you try to cover your smile, before asking him a follow-up question. "Would you get on a boat to rescue her, if she somehow got trapped out at sea?"
"Of course, I would," he chuckles. "But then I'd ask where she found a boat in the first place and why she got in it when she doesn't like them either."
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
"Maybe she was just trying to find food for her quarterback boyfriend with a bottomless pit as a stomach." His entire body shakes with laughter as you smile accomplishedly behind the lens.
"That's cute, you know her or something?" You shrug, as he straightens up due to another presence approaching.
"Don't stop on my accord, you did great today J. And you Miss Thing, I can't wait to see the shots you got of my team out there." Coach Taylor praises walking past you, causing your faces to heat up.
"God, I don't know how much of this I can use." Your video voice sombers.
You watch as the orange jersey fills the frame until not even the 9 is visible. "Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Kind of like how..." His low and teasing voice barely gets picked up on the audio. A shiver runs down your spine because you remember exactly what he said before walking out of view.
"Kind of like how you will when you get home tonight."
'And boy was he right, but not about the editing.' You think gawking at his body as he walks out of the bathroom, water dripping from his hair and shoulders down his nice pecs and delectable abs. His strong arms and toned abdomen are tinted red due to the steamy shower that's releasing vapor into the room.
"Still editing I see?" He asks teasingly as he ruffle-dries his hair with a microfiber towel. You painstakingly nod but push the laptop down and off your lap.
"It can wait." You say as your gaze drops down to the blonde happy trail that disappears underneath the towel secured around his waist. "It's not due til noon anyway."
"Good, I've been thinking about you laid out on my bed for me since we got home." A smirk curves up his lips when he notices your eyes fixated on the bulge of the fabric.
"Lucky me." Then the towel drops. Lucky me indeed.
✧ ⁺ . ° ➶ 。˚ ✧
Eventually, the video does get edited and uploaded to social media like it's supposed to and your bosses thoroughly enjoy the impressions it brings to the organization.
You tried your best to edit out all of the parts that gave too much about your relationship away without completely taking Joe out of the video. You thought it did a great job, the final cut showed a very professional interaction between the two of you. Everyone was happy.
Until you started trending on Twitter almost 3 days later.
Something you didn't realize before becoming the Bengals' backup photographer/videographer and official social media manager was that your boyfriend rarely if ever participated in the post-practice videos. Anna, their main journalist, did mention that Joe liked to hide from cameras at practice, but you thought she was talking about paparazzi and overzealous fans. It wasn't until you went through every post-practice TikTok video that you realized that she was not kidding at all.
Currently, you are sitting wide-eyed on the couch watching a well-known YouTube gossip talk about your video and your relationship. She hadn't said the word dating yet, but by her analysis of the short clips- she was not very far from finding out.
"I think the key here is the woman behind the camera. Their conversation was short, but you could tell she could get him to say anything. And the way it's cut, oh my god. Anyone could tell that there was much more to this chat than we saw. Sadly, I couldn't find her socials, so the woman behind the camera wins this time."
You paused the video as soon as Joe's footsteps became apparent as he walked toward the area where you were sitting. "Hi, baby!" You cringe at the perky tone of your voice.
"Hi?" He says plopping down next to you and kissing your head. The lingering embarrassment makes your spine stiffen. Joe raises a brow in confusion. "Y/n, what's wrong?"
You huff and pout sinking into the couch cushions. "I kinda fucked up."
"How so?" He asks pulling your hands into his.
"Have you watched my video?" You whisper as if saying it aloud will anger the universe.
"No, but I heard it was doing well. Do you want me to pull it up?" You shake your head immediately. "What's wrong with the video?"
"You're in it." You mumble laying your head on his chest.
"Huh?"
"You hate attention, you hate cameras, and you literally hide from them when we're in public! And I put you in my video!" One of his hands lets go of yours and begins to stroke the back of your head.
"Baby, I put myself in-
"No, I forced you to do the one thing you've always set a boundary on. I'm a shitty girlfriend, I should've just ended it before you walked by or just kept the whole clip for myself."
"Y/n, listen."
"Joey I'm so sorry, everyone is talking about how you and 'the girl behind the camera' are probably a thing. They're probably digging up pictures of us in public at the moment and there's nothing I can do to stop it. All of your business is going to be aired out-
"I know-
"Reporters are going to start showing up to your practices, and paparazzi will be following us. It's a disaster- wait what did you say?" You sniffle pulling your head up to face him. And he's smiling?
"I know and I don't care. All I care about is that the most important woman in my life is safe and happy. That's you mamas." He says softly, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.
"Wait but you've worked so hard to keep your private life- private and I should've respected that."
He shakes his head. "I wanted to be in that video because you were the one behind the camera. Even if we weren't dating, I would have been in that video and people would've had something to say about it. I did it because you make me happy and I love watching you work. In fact.." He takes his phone out and queues a video onto the TV screen.
"Joe, what is this?" You ask as he comes up in today's outfit looking like it was filmed when he left for work this morning.
"Just watch." He grins.
*In the video he’s seen smiling and taking pictures with fans before his morning meeting.
“Hey Joey B! Over here!” A young boy jumps up trying to get his attention.
Your boyfriend chuckles and shuffles over to the kid to sign his helmet. “Hi, how you doing bud?”
“I’m great! My sister’s sad that you have a girlfriend now though.” The kid vibrates with energy and excitement, very different than his sister who’s glaring at him from the side.
Joe just laughs, gives the kid a fist bump, and moves on to another fan.*
“Joe, you didn’t say anything. What is this supposed to prove?” You huff in confusion.
“I know, that’s just my favorite part. You just need to see what happens next.” He assured pushing your focus back to the TV screen.
*As Joe starts to wave bye to the crowd a swarm of paparazzi and journalists emerge.*
You immediately start to frown because this is exactly what he's been trying to avoid.
*The people behind the giant cameras ask him all kinds of outlandish questions, all of which he ignores until a question about you pops up.
“Joe, are you hiding your girlfriend because you’re ashamed of her career and her race?” He stops right outside the door to the facility and spots the woman who asked the question.
“What did you say?” His eyes squint and brows furrow in the same way as they do when people question his football fatality.
“Last night, the Bengals website updated their faculty and staff page. The only new social media manager was a black woman named Y/n. What other reason could you be hiding your relationship for?” She asks confidently sticking her camera in his space.
“Do you hear how fucking dumb you sound?” He says so calmly making all the eyes around him widen. Including yours as you watch the incredulous look on his face turn to a scowl.
“I’m hiding her from idiots like you guys who follow me around with cameras chasing the wrong narratives. Do you really think I want to hide the love of my life from the world? Cause I don’t, but I would rather us have a good relationship that’s private rather than a shitty one controlled by the media. Literally, look at what happened after one lighthearted joke got taken out of context! And to even comment that her race was an issue? What fucking year do you live in? I would love that woman no matter what she did or how she looked. And it shouldn't matter. All of you are ridiculous. Have a great day.” Then walked into the facility slamming the door behind him.*
When he looks back over at you, silent tears are falling from your eyes. “Shit was it too much.” He says panicked.
You shake your head with a chuckle then lean up to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “No, it was perfect. I love you so much, Joseph.”
He returns the sweet kiss and holds you close. “I love you more than anything Y/n. I’d do anything for you, never forget that.”
“I won’t.”
~●○°●○°●○~
a/n: sorta kinda inspired by @slimshiesty, if you know you know and you absolutely should know.
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whoopssteddiefeels · 1 year
Text
If you think the CC boys aren't looking for Eddie, you're wrong
----
Steve opened his trunk and placed the groceries inside, Eddie’s special requests next to his usual staples and the excessive number of snacks he had grabbed for this week’s check in at Hopper’s cabin. Eddie was probably just being cute, requesting the same thing they had brought him in the boathouse, but Steve figured it would be just as cute to refill the request anyway. Anything to make Eddie smile and call him a sap in that overly sweet way he had.
He closed the trunk, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Already excited to get home to that amused smile and twinkling eyes.
“Where the fuck is Eddie?”
Steve jumped about a foot in the air, spinning on the spot, fumbling his keys in an embarrassing 3-part scramble that still ended with them clanking to the ground. He’s effectively trapped against his car, three boys glaring at him from a few feet away. How the hell did they sneak up on him in tandem like that?
They stood in a V-formation, arms crossed and eyes angry. The one in front, a black boy with braces and close-cropped hair who was doing his best to stare down at Steve despite their roughly even height, spoke again. “We don’t know what is going on, what happened, but you and Henderson are definitely involved.”
“I… I don’t…” Steve looked around quickly, hoping something would appear and save him from this conversation. Nothing did, the parking lot was empty except for them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit, man!” the smallest of the three exclaimed, pointing angrily in Steve’s face. “Whatever the fuck happened involved your stupid basketball team and our freshman members and god KNOWS what else but there’s no way Eddie would ever-”
“He didn’t do anything to that girl,” the first boy interrupted, Jeff, Steve’s brain slowly supplied, based on stories he’d heard from both Dustin and Eddie. This must be the rest of Corroded Coffin. Jeff, Gareth, and… shit what was the third kids name? Doesn’t matter, he needed to come up with an exit strategy fast.
Steve raised his hands, painfully aware that his keys were still on the ground. “Look, guys, I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me. Yeah, I don’t believe Eddie did anything to Chrissy. Henderson is at home, I haven’t even seen him in days. I don’t know where Eddie would’ve gone after the earthquake, you’d know better than-”
“You’ve got his battle jacket in your back seat.” Unnamed member cut in, voice hard.
“You just bought honeycombs, yoo-hoos, and camel cigarettes.” Gareth, the little one, chimed in.
Jeff took a step forward, making sure Steve was looking at him before he slowly reached forward and carefully pulled on the chain around Steve’s neck, drawing the guitar pick out from where it had rested under his shirt. The younger boy just raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the implication.
Steve sagged against his car, and Jeff let the necklace slip from his fingers as it was pulled back with his movement. It fell against the outside of his shirt, the red and black guitar pick stark and damning against the light blue of today’s polo.
Steve rubbed at his face, refusing to meet the trio of accusing glares. These were Eddie’s friends. His brothers according to the metalhead in question. There was no reason for Steve to be wearing that necklace other than what it was: a claim. They would know that, better than anyone. There was no getting out of this.
“Jesus H. Christ, okay. Okay. He’s… at my place. Just, follow me, I guess.”
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cherryobx · 2 months
Text
pretty girl
request: here
pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
summary: Steve has been begging to take you on a date for weeks but you've said no every time because you think you're not pretty enough for him
warnings: reader is pictured as fem and has hair that can be pushed behind the ear, being insecure about acne, steve is a simp, they're coworkers, reader wears jewelry
wc: 1.1k
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“Why won’t you go out with me?” Steve asks, leaning against the driver side of your car so you can’t get in the car without him moving. You were both on closing shift tonight so you walked to the parking lot together.
“I already told you, I just don’t want to.” It’s a lie. A big fucking lie. In fact, it’s your dream to go out on a date with Steve. He’s handsome, sweet and has always been very nice to you but it’s your own insecurities holding you back.
Ever since puberty hit, you’ve been struggling with acne. You’ve never once thought that other people with acne were any less beautiful but you just couldn’t get yourself to like how it looked on you, how the bumps and scars littered your face. 
“That’s bullshit. I know you like me. I just don’t understand why you won’t go out with me,” he ponders.
“My reasoning should be enough for you to back off.” You cross your arms on your chest, using them as some sort of barrier between you and him, hiding yourself.
“Have I done something to you for you to hate me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then go out with me.”
“No,” you stand on your ground. “Can you please stop blocking my car so I can go home now?”
“No.” And he stands on his. He’s not giving up and you can’t help but lowkey admire his ambition.
“No?” You raise your eyebrow at him.
“Give me a real reason. Tell me honestly why you don’t want to go out with me,” he demands and you sigh at that. You know he won’t leave you alone unless you actually tell him. 
Steve prides himself in knowing you well enough to know when you’re lying. Couple months into working at the Family Video together he managed to spot the tells of you lying. He saw it every day first hand. They were always little white lies. Like when someone asked about a movie they wanted to rent out but you told them that it wasn’t available at the moment. The truth was that it was, he checked, but you wanted to take it home yourself. But he noticed how you pushed hair behind your ear and then pulled it back out from behind it many times. He noticed how you fidgeted with your rings and bracelets or touched the necklace you never took off. He noticed.
You take a quick glance around to make sure that there are no people near enough to hear you confess your biggest insecurity to your coworker. Not that anyone would really care. But you do. It’s something you don’t really voice out loud and write in private into your diary at night when everyone is sleeping.
“Are you sure you want to go out with me?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t. What is this about?” His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks confused.
“Don’t you find me, I don’t know, ugly?” Your voice is now quieter, vulnerable.
He’s taken aback. His words are almost choked up. “Ugly? No, I find you really pretty actually. Why would I think that?”
“You’re just saying that. You can be honest with me, Steve. My acne. Is it not making me unattractive or something?”
He pushes himself off your car and stands up straight. “I am being honest. I think you’re the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not! Your acne does not make you any less beautiful to me.” He takes a step closer into your space, his eyes remaining on yours. It’s a little thing but you notice it. Most people’s attention is on the skin of your face but Steve is staring straight into your eyes, almost like he’s seeing into your soul. It makes you feel vulnerable.
Your heartbeat speeds up and you can feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest at his closeness. His hand comes up to your face and he pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I want to take you out because I like you. I like spending time with you. I like how you make me laugh. I like how you fix my hair when you notice it’s messed up. I like how you lie to customers from time to time.” That pulls a smile from you. “ I like how you look at me. Because I look at you the same way.”
“Are you serious?”
“As death.” He places his hand over his heart. 
“I don't feel pretty enough for you, Steve. There are so many girls who’d do anything to be with you. You should be with someone who looks and feels as pretty as you are.”
“You think I’m pretty?” There’s a cocky smirk on his face.
“Was that all you heard?” You scrunch your face.
“No. I’m sorry. I was joking,” he chuckles nervously. “If you don’t feel ‘pretty enough’ for me,” he uses air quotes, “I want to help you feel that you are. I want you to show you how beautiful I think you are. I want to take you out and show you off because you deserve it. You deserve to be treated like a princess because that’s who you are.”
You almost tear up at his words. He seems to genuinely mean what he says and it’s quite literally pulling on your heartstrings. “Really?”
“Really. Let me take you out, please.”
“Okay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but it’s enough for him to hear. The smile on his face is huge as he wraps his arms around you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You laugh and hold onto him tightly.
“Yes! You won’t regret it, I swear.” 
When he finally places you back on the ground, he keeps his arms around you, no space between you two as your bodies are pressed together. 
His eyes dart to your lips. “Can I kiss you or is that like reserved for the first date?”
It pulls another smile from you. “It is, but I’ll make an exception for you.”
It’s all you need to say before he kisses you, a hand coming to rest on the side of your neck, fingers in your hair. It’s gentle and sweet but oh so perfect.
“How about tomorrow night? We’re both off.”
“How do you know my work schedule?” You narrow your eyes at him.
He shrugs, a mischievous smirk on his face.
“So?”
“Tomorrow works.”
He presses a small peck to your lips before pulling away and backing towards his own car. “I’ll pick you up at 7 then.”
“Sure.”
“See you tomorrow, pretty girl.” His nickname for you causes your cheeks to heat up and you grin.
Maybe you should’ve given into him and his relentless begging sooner. 
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thelovelyruin · 11 months
Text
𝖆𝖈𝖖𝖚𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉.
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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso just couldn’t wait for you and him to be acquainted.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au, smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 5.3K
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from acquainted by the weeknd.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! probably my favorite yet. i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!
18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT
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Baby, you're no good 'cause they warned me ‘bout your type.
“Yeah, no.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean, NO. She’s bad news, dude.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, I don’t. She just gives off the vibe that she’d break your heart or somethin'.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, she’s out of your league, first of all. You’re kinda awkward, and I can’t tell if you’re celibate or just can’t get laid. That and she’s pretty friendly with everyone.”
“Shouldn’t she be friendly?”
“Yeah, a little too friendly. A jealous motherfucker like you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“She wouldn’t be that way if she was in a relationship, right?”
Yuuji raised his eyebrow and threw his arms up.
“The world may never know. That is unless…you wanna know?”
Choso rolled his eyes, following Yuuji to class.
Baby, you're no good; I think I fell for you.
Little did Yuuji know Choso was already in love with you. As much as he’d try not to, he couldn’t help but see you walking around campus. 
Pretty face adorned with sparkly lipgloss, your hair always down, giving a slight view of your hoop earrings. You usually wore a little locket necklace, never telling anyone what was inside, sitting atop a pink shirt that your tits always looked great in. Then a miniskirt that, depending on the breeze that day, gave a sneak peek of your ass. Then, the heels you wear, except for the winter when you wore a cute pair of boots with leggings, he could practically see through them. It was tough when he was in class with you; you raised your hand to answer a question, a French manicure, and the clinking of your bangles that were practically ASMR for him. Then, there were your books that, when some random guy wasn’t offering to hold them, pressed against your chest, making your breasts lift as you walked. Sometimes, you’d wear a perfume that smelled like cake; other days, vanilla, pretty hard to miss as you walked by. Then there was your skin, always glowing like you drank from the fountain of youth or something, legs smooth as you crossed them over one another or stood before the seminar to answer a question on the board. Sometimes, you had a pair of stockings or thigh highs that covered them, ending a little lower than where your skirt ended; god forbid you bent over, which you were careful never to do, usually asking someone to pick something up for you. You never touched a door either; sure, it was because every guy wanted to fuck you, running around like your puppies ready for a task; sometimes you gave them one, they’d run back to you with a lollipop or something like that, which you parted your lips so sexily to take in and suck. 
It's not like he was paying attention or anything.
You got me puttin' time in.
Now, Choso wasn’t terrible at talking to girls, sometimes getting approached but a little too awkward to continue the conversation. Then again, he had the hots for you, so it was hard to look at anyone else. He’d got it in his mind that he’d talk to you one of these days. Maybe he’d ask you out on a date, but he wouldn’t know how he’d react if you rejected him; in light of that, he never said anything to you, just an awkward look if you guys ever made eye contact, which you always gave him a confident one, followed by a wave. But all that was thrown out the window right now. He was too shocked that you were standing in front of him to hear what you’d said; your face had one of those optimistic looks, hands sitting on his desk in the library as your arms squished your tits together, leaning over a bit to look at him.
“Hello, earth to Choso, you there?”
“Sorry, could you repeat that?”
Your skirt sat particularly short on your hips today, your belly button ring gleaming with a little heart at the end, but his eyes drifted to your waistline, a little bit of a pink fabric peeking ever so slightly out the top of your denim-
“I said, “Hey, Choso! What’s up?””
“Oh, sorry. Not much, how about you?”
“Oh, nothin’; saw you were sittin’ alone and wanted to come say hi; that okay?”
It was more than okay. He had to shift in his seat, boner becoming irritably hard against his thigh.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, wanna take a seat?”
“Sure! So, whatcha workin' on?”
“Oh, I’m just studying for the statistics exam.”
“That class is super hard! I feel like I’m not getting any of it.”
He took that as his one-way ticket to testing the waters with you.
“I could, um, tutor you if you want.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
You perked up, hand touching his arms, tits calling out as you shifted towards him in the seat. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, but he knew he had to focus if this was gonna work at all.
“Yeah, it’s no problem.”
“Perfect, when are you free?
He was free anytime for you.
“Uh, I’m free after classes; what about you?”
“Hmm, well, I have a sorority meeting at six tomorrow, so that probably won’t work, but then, ooo, I have cheer practice on Thursday, ugh, and I can’t forget Nobara’s party on Friday!”
“So, Wednesday?”
“Perfect! We’d just have to do it after my nail appointment at 3.”
He looked at your nails; nothing looked bad about them, so he was confused. He hadn’t realized how busy you were, which explained why you didn’t have a boyfriend. But that only made him feel worse.
“I think your nails are nice like that?”
You were blushing now, bringing a hand out in front of you two.
“Ya think so? I was thinking of changing the color; I've changed my mind since last week.”
Your phone got a ring; he noticed it was Mai, a girl he’d often see you walking around with. Happily, you answered it.
“Hey babe, what's up?”
He couldn't hear what Mai was saying to you on the phone, but fuck, he wished you'd answer the phone like that for him. That's when it struck him that he hadn't even-
“Sorry about that! She had to tell me about this crazy thing one of our sisters did.”
“Sisters?”
“Yeah, like in our sorority, silly! Anyways, gotta blast, but I enjoyed our chat!”
You pulled a pen out of your purse along with a piece of gum; after unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth, you grabbed Choso’s hand, writing down your phone number.
“There ya go, put it in fast so it doesn’t wash off, 'kay? Bye, cutie!”
With that, you walked away. See, this is where Choso was fucked; he had to think about when he should text you, now, later today, or Wednesday? That and his boner. He hurried up and shuffled to his and Yuuji’s dorm room, using his backpack to cover his crotch.
Nobody got me feeling this way.
“YOU GOT HER NUMBER?”
“Yes, but it’s because I’m tutoring her.”
“So, you and her, alone. “Studying”.”
“Yes, Yuuji, now fuck off!”
When Choso told Yuuji about the exchange earlier, he was convinced you were on something.
“So, she just randomly walked up to you? Isn’t that weird?”
“Is it that foreign for someone to want to talk to me?”
Yuuji looked him up and down, giving him that look. Choso scoffed and continued typing up his essay. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, if he was being honest. He tried his best to put off texting you, but that lasted all but 4 hours.
“Hey. It’s Choso.”
He sighed as he threw his head back. He was feeling a bit stupid, to be honest. For all he knew, you had been dared to talk to him, or it was a little game you came up with. Still, he knew it wasn’t in your character to do something like that, but his self-loathing told him otherwise. All of a sudden, though, his screen lit up.
“haiiii <3 wednesday still good? :3”
“Yeah, what time?”
“let’s do 5, 'kay?”
“Sounds good.”
“yay! see you then :p.”
When Wednesday came around, Choso was nervous all day. Yuuji teased him for it, saying there was nothing to worry about; you guys were only “studying.” Choso had seen you in class with the usual demeanor and look, but instead, today, you gave him a wink as you walked by, which went straight to his dick. It had been 4:55, and he was pacing his room, trying to mentally and physically prepare to be alone with you for the next hour or so. But then five came, then 5:05, then-
A knock at the door, which he was praying, wasn't Yuuji coming back to the room; he told Choso earlier he was gonna spend the night out ‘In case something happened.’ Much to Choso’s bliss, it was you, panting a bit. 
“I'm so sorry! I spilled my smoothie on my other top, so I had to change, then I ran over as fast as I could! You’re not too mad at me, are you?”
Choso had realized you had a different shirt on when he opened the door. This one was a lower cut, your cleavage on full display, the bottom short cropped. Damn, you looked good.
“You’re fine; come in.”
“Ooo, thanks!”
You walked into the room, and he waited for you to say something; his room was pretty much clean, except for a pair of socks Yuuji left on the floor. Instead, you smile at him, then bend over to set your purse and books- fuck, you bent over. Choso looked at every single item in the room, anything to not stare at your ass in his peripheral vision. Quickly, you got up and turned around, Choso flustered as ever.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“Uh, no…let’s get started.”
An hour passed, and Choso was shocked at his level of resolve. He tried his best to help you and pay attention to the papers in front of you, but fuck, your tits looked great from this angle.
“All done! I think this is the best I’ve ever done! Thank you so so much!”
You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him into a hug that made his breath rapid. You pulled back from him now, still hugging him, as you looked up at him with those doe eyes of yours. Choso was much taller than you, so he was getting quite the view, but that came with him looking the most flustered he’s ever been. You let go with a giggle, walking over to sit on his bed. He watched you sit back on your hands, legs slightly open as your chest poked out. God, you looked cute, even better that you were sitting on HIS bed.
“Hey, Choso?”
“Yeah?”
“I need your help with something.”
“What’s up?”
You got me touchin' on your body…
He walked over to you with a confused look on his face. What could you possibly want? You guys had already studied, which is what you both agreed to; maybe another class-
You opened your thighs to him, panty-clad pussy on full display.
He was about to fucking die. He couldn’t help but pinch himself; he had to be dreaming. It was already surprising to him that you were in his room, but you practically asking him to touch your pussy was an enigma. You pulled him forward by his shirt, his face up to yours.
“That is, if you wanna.”
Choso started melting, but he wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. With urgency, he dropped to his knees, positioning himself on the floor between your legs, both draped over his shoulders as he pulled you closer to him. God, he could smell you; it was making him hungry. Then there was your thong soaked from your wetness, leading him to wonder how long you wanted this. The print of your lips against the fabric was about to send him over. He brought his hands up your legs, the feeling of your plush thighs making him ache, all the way up to your hips, where he flipped your skirt up. He wasted no time grabbing the edge of your panties, backing up to pull them down your legs. You opened up a little more for him, soaked pussy on full display. He was dreaming, he was dreaming, he was dreaming. He experimentally brought his fingers up to spread your lips apart, precum dripping out of you. He almost passed out, but that was the last thing he needed to start his mission.
Choso brought his lips down to your pussy, lapping up all of your juices, then fucking his tongue into you. You were moaning, body arching as you found your fingers in his hair. Fuck you tasted good. He brought his tongue to your clit, circling the bud slowly, making the most out of this situation and simultaneously making you whimper.
“Choso….”
You sounded so fucking good. Every moan of his name went straight to his dick, which was looking to rub against anything to get some relief. He brought his fingers up and slipped them inside you, making you groan loudly. He explored your walls carefully, but it wasn’t until he curled his fingers that he really got a rise out of you.
“Fuck, right there, don’t stop!”
He was a damn good listener. He pumped his fingers in and out of you as your body jerked, begging to cum. He was in disbelief; he was the one making you feel like this. Moan like this. Cum like this. It came hard, fingers gripping his hair in a way that brought him out of his hazy state. And fuck, as you came down, you rutted your pussy against his tongue, mouth still opened and eyes rolled back. Choso was in fucking heaven. You were panting on his bed, half-naked, back still arched; you were a sight to see. You began to come back to earth, sitting up on your hands again, pussy most likely staining the sheets, but it’s not like he fuckin' cared.
“Come here.”
Your usual bubbly demeanor left the second you came, grabbing Choso by his shirt and bringing him down to kiss you. You opened your legs so he could position himself between them, kissing him intensely now. Instinctively, he brought his hand up to your tits, groping them through the fabric of your shirt, pinching your nipple once he found it. He ruts his hips against yours, making you groan into his mouth. Fuck, you were so hot, all of his senses were filled with you, he was gonna lose his-
I know I'd rather be complacent.
He fucking came on himself. Simultaneously, your phone began to ring, the same tone as the other day when Mai called you. With a pout, you walked over to his desk to grab your phone. God, he praised himself for wearing back sweats that day. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem you noticed, picking up the phone and smiling. Just like that, you were back to your usual self.
“Hey, hey!”
Mai said something to you as Choso went to his drawer, already looking for a set of underwear and pants to replace the ones he accidentally soaked. You were pouting now, tilting your head to the side as you talked to her.
“But Maiiii, I’m doing something super important!”
You looked at him from head to toe, smirking as you continued talking. Fuck, what were you guys talking about?
“Ugh, fine, but you owe me! See you in a bit.”
You hung up the phone and walked over to him, a sad look on your face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his chest.
“You gotta go?”
“Yeah, but I really don’t want to!”
“It’s fine. You should be ready for the test on Thursday.”
You bent over to pick up your purse and books again; this time, he really couldn’t look because he knew his dick would probably betray him. You put your heels back on, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
“Bye, cutie!”
“Um, bye.”
Choso took a shower as soon as you left, in which he had to relieve himself from the events of today. It’s like he couldn’t get your taste you out of his head; every time he tried to focus on his essay, you were there. It didn’t help when he found your thong on the floor beside his bed. Shit, he hadn’t even thought to put them back on you. Quickly, he texted you, letting you know you forgot them.
“oopsie :3 consider them a gift ;)”
Fuck, you were dangerous.
Girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.
Baby, you're no good.
“YOU DID WHAT?”
“Shut the fuck up, you're gonna wake the whole hall!”
“Let me get this straight, you fucked her?”
“No, yes, well, not exactly. I, you know…”
“Awe shit, she sucked your-”
“NO, YUUJI, JESUS.”
“So, what did you- Holy shit, you gave her head!”
Choso became flustered, never really having a conversation with Yuuji about his sex life, but Yuuji was more than open about his.
“Yes, I gave her head.”
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up! You’re too damn loud!”
“Sorry, sorry. It’s not like I didn’t believe in you or anything, but a girl like that? I probably would’ve cum on myself.”
Now, Choso knew you were busy, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see you again. He’d remembered everything you said you had to do, so he figured he’d talk to you again at Nobara’s party. He was initially going because Nobara was a mutual friend through Yuuji, but now, he had a way better reason. You guys had seen each other around the halls Thursday, you giving him a wink every time you saw him, and he’d return it with a blush and grin. He hadn’t texted you either, trying to be considerate of your time, but as Friday afternoon came along, you appeared to be distant with him. He was nervous at this point. What if he was over-analyzing things? Just a quick fuck to get each other’s rocks off? Then, unfortunately, the thought came to mind that maybe you had realized he came on himself, which hurt his feelings pretty bad. I mean, he couldn’t help it; spontaneous oral on the girl he’d liked for months now, he was already in bad shape to begin with. But, fuck, he missed you.
All my homies think I'm crazy 'cause I'm thinkin' 'bout us lately.
Nobara’s party could be heard down the street, some AirBnb, all your sisters put in on. Choso couldn’t lie; it was pretty nice, a large house with at least eight bedrooms, a pool and basketball court in the back, and balconies on almost every window. He and Yuuji had shuffled their way into the house, Yuuji immediately looking for something to drink that was far from water. Once he found a bottle of tequila, he poured him and Choso a couple of shots, both throwing them back like it was nothing. Yuuji seemed to know everyone at this party, sparking conversation with damn near anyone that walked by. He and Choso found their way to the backyard, sitting in the little patio section next to the pool.
“So, did you text her yet?”
“No, I’m pretty sure she’s upset with me about something.”
“Cause she’s been giving you the silent treatment?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, she’s obviously not giving it to him.”
But really, if I could, I'd forget about you.
Yuuji pointed to you on the other side of the pool, talking to some guy. You held a cup, presumably with alcohol, but what you were wearing was the kicker. You hadn’t bothered to wear a top, just your string bikini covering your tits, which wasn’t doing a very good job of covering them up. Then there were your shorts; they were basically underwear with how high they came up, the underside of your ass on display. You were leaning into the guy, obviously in deep conversation. The guy, however, was getting an eyeful; he couldn’t even make eye contact with you because he was staring so intently at your chest. 
You got me puttin' time in.
Choso couldn’t lie, it pissed him off real bad. He couldn’t tell if it was because you were talking to this guy and not him or because the guy was looking at you so inappropriately; it wasn’t like he was one to talk. But his jaw locked as he saw the guy slip a hand onto your waist as you stumbled a bit, and you didn’t stop him.
“She’s free to do what she wants.”
“Yeah, she’s doin’ what she wants, alright. Your face was in her pussy on Wednesday, and she’s probably gonna do the same to him tonight.”
Nobody got me feeling this way.
Yuuji’s comment had put a fire under Choso’s ass. Immediately, he got up from where he and Yuuji sat, heading straight towards you.
“Told you, you were jealous, bitch!”
Now, Choso wasn’t the confrontational type, but three shots in, he felt a little bit of that liquid courage. He’d closed the gap between the patio and the pool quickly, focused on getting to you; as he walked up, he could hear you giggling at whatever that fucker was saying. You turned your head in surprise, an awkward smile on your face as Choso grabbed your arm.
“Gonna borrow her right quick.”
Choso could hear the guy cursing him out in confusion as he walked away with you, but if anyone was confused, it was you.
You got me touchin' on your body….
Choso led you up the stairs as you rushed to keep up, spilling your drink a bit. He found an empty bedroom, walked you into it, and locked it behind him.
“Choso, what the actual fuck?”
“What are you doing, huh?”
“What am I doing? What am I doing? Motherfucker, what are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you haven’t talked to me in days. Then you pull me in here, like I’m the bad guy or something, fuck, did eating me out mean anything to you?”
“Of course it did! I haven’t texted you because I wanted to give you space!”
“I could’ve made time for you! I don’t wanna hear your shitty excuses as to-”
To say that we're in love is dangerous…
Your sentence was cut short by Choso pulling you into a kiss. You were fucking mad at him, sure, but you wanted to fuck him more than anything. That’s why you let him lay you on the bed behind you, mouth coming to kiss you, even deeper this time. He pulled back to undo your top, allowing your tits free.
“So, who the fuck was that?”
He brought his lips down to your nipple, sucking it as you moaned softly.
“A friend, what are you, jealous?”
He sucked the other one, massaging your tits as you watched him intently.
“Depends.”
“On?”
But, girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.
Choso began to move his way down, sucking the skin of your stomach as he brought his hands down to hook into your shorts. He had them down to your ankles, pulling them off of you.
“I’m your friend too, no?”
“Something like that.”
He undid the strings on your bikini, throwing them somewhere in the room. He brought his face down to you, kissing your inner thighs to tease you.
“You let all your friends eat your pussy?”
Ever since I met you, I couldn't believe what you did.
You couldn’t answer his question, body reacting to the kitten licks he was giving your clit. Choso was a bit more familiar with you now; he knew you liked it when he fucked you with his tongue and that you moan a little harder when he pressed his tongue harder on our bud. But, god, you were intoxicating. He missed the taste of your pre-cum on his lips, shamelessly saturating his whole face with your juices. That is until he pulled his face back, teasing you.
“Answer me, princess.”
“No, I don't.”
That made him hungry, greedy even. His face was back on you, fucking his tongue into you as he pinned your hips down, watching you squirm from the pleasure. The pleasure he was giving you.
Choso picked up the pace of his tongue, his fingers finding their way to your pussy, curling them as he sucked on your clit. One hand still on your hips to keep you still; it was all in vain because when you came, your body came undone. You buck your hips into his touch, moaning his name as you let him suck you through your high. You were fucking beautiful. He pulled up to look at you, smirking as he saw your tits rise and fall from all the panting you were doing. He figured it wasn’t too bad to give you another orgasm; you looked so fucking hot coming down that he couldn’t resist drinking your cum as he brought his thumb to your clit. You were on fucking fire, still recovering from before, and now he was bringing you up to his face. He pinned you down, devouring you instantly.
Now, Choso felt a little adventurous, bringing his hands up to rub your nipples between his fingers while you fucked his face. You didn’t know where all this nerve came from, presumably because he’s made you cum twice now, the third one about to join. But you honestly didn’t give a fuck. If he had the balls to eat you as good as he was doing, you could care less. Because his tongue was just too damn distracting. You began to grind your pussy on his face, not even considering his ability to breathe; it’s not like he was concerned about it. You were moaning his name like a symphony, pulling them out of you more frequently as you felt your body giving in again.
“Choso, I’m, I, fuck!”
So comfort me…
Choso smirked into your pussy as you came, falling over onto the bed immediately. He was kissing you now, soft and sweet, like he didn’t intend to fuck the shit out of you. With a careful hand, he brought your leg up, pulling it away from the other so he could get in between them. He enjoyed the view of you, spent and gasping for air, bucking your hips slowly as you waited for him to fuck you. As he began removing his clothes, he continued this little conversation.
“Hm, that doesn’t make sense then, does it?”
“You’re more than a friend, Choso.”
At this point, he’d taken everything but his boxers off, dick almost stabbing out the front of his briefs. He took them off quickly, bringing his body back up to sit on top of yours. He kissed you as he fingered your pussy again, making you squirm under his touch. Messily, he brought your cum out of your pussy, rubbing it over his shaft as he looked down at you.
“More than a friend, huh?”
Choso kissed your neck as he slid his dick in, holding your hips as he rolled his into yours. He was painfully slow, pulling out to sink back in. Fuck, it was torture.
“Yes, Choso! Now fuck me, please!”
“No problem.”
He slammed his hips into yours, making you groan. He gripped you tightly as he fucked you, forehead meeting yours so he could see your pretty face as you took him so well.
 “When was the last time you got fucked?”
“Months ago.”
“So, you decided you just wanted me to eat your pussy one day?”
He began that slow pace again, scratching his back as he reached the deepest parts of you.
“No, I liked you for a while! Thought you didn’t like me ‘til I met you in the library!”
He couldn’t fucking believe it. This entire time you’d been waiting for him to make a move, and he was too fucking pussy to do it. Well, he’ll make it up to you now by fucking your pussy. He hit that sweet spot inside you as you moved your hips to meet his, hands brushing through his hair as he gave it to you right where you needed him. And god, you were sexy. You pressed your tits against his chest as he fucked you into the bed, practically screaming his name every time he’d give you a hard thrust to get a rise out of you.
“I want you, princess.”
To be fair, you hadn’t really entertained any of the guys who wanted you; they’d just ogle you, but you wanted someone who’d claim you. Make you his. And Choso was doing it. He fucked you like no one had ever done before, sucking hickeys all over you that you were sure you didn’t have enough concealer to cover up. Then, there was the way he’d moan into your ear. Sometimes your name, but mostly baby, princess, beautiful. He was taking you higher and higher, and you didn’t wanna come down.
“Then, I’m yours.”
Ain't no rush from me.
That was enough for Choso. He fucked you faster, keeping your hips still so he could fuck you how you needed it. Your body was practically begging to cum again, all but throwing yourself at him. He prayed you’d cum soon because he’d be down for the count here shortly, panting into the side of your neck as he took you. And take you, he did, gripping his shoulders as you moaned his name into the room, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open as you came for the third time that night. You honestly didn’t know you had it in you, nor did Choso, because he was right behind you, gripping the headboard as he fucked you through his orgasm, whimpering your name as he fell to pieces inside you. Your pussy was like fucking heaven, taking his cum so well as your hands fell to your side, too fucked out to move.
I’ll keep on touchin' on your body. To say that we're in love is dangerous…
Choso fell beside you, exhausted as ever. He was grateful he’d taken precautionary measures and relieved himself before he came to the party cause he surely would’ve cum the second he felt your pussy. He looked over at you; he could tell you were pretty damn tired; who wouldn’t be after he made you cum so many times. So, he helped you put your clothes back on, carrying you down the stairs and out to his car. He shot Yuuji a text to let him know he was leaving, choosing to leave out the details of what he had been doing for the past hour and a half. After getting you in the car, he got in the driver’s seat and started it.
“Ima take ya home, okay?”
You perked up a little, grabbing his arm and wrapping around it.
“Wanna go home with you!”
“Whatever ya want, princess.”
Choso gripped your thigh as he drove off, returning to his dorm. He carried you to his room, removing your clothes and helping you get into one of his t-shirts. Both of you in the bed, he pulled you into his chest, letting you get comfortable. You look up at him, smiling a bit as you yawn.
“Night, baby!”
You kissed him quickly and laid back down, drifting off to sleep.
‘Baby’, huh? He could get used to that.
But, girl, I'm so glad we're acquainted.
♱ the song used in this story is acquainted by the weeknd. 🖤
♱ masterlist.
♱ all fics playlist.
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𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.
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1K notes · View notes
mrsstarkey1 · 2 years
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initial - rafe cameron
not because he owns me, but cause he really knows me
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summary: blurb inspired by the song call it what you want by taylor swift. requested by @rafeslovergirl
word count: 0.7k
warnings: none
“My baby’s fit like a daydream..” you sing not-so-quietly to yourself as you move around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients for yours and Rafes breakfast.
Rafes eyes stay glued on you as you sing and subtly dance around the kitchen. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him that you’ve been singing the same song for nearly an hour, but he's far too infatuated by you to ever consider asking you to stop.
He gets up from his stool by the island swiftly, moving around the table to stand behind you. Wrapping his arms around you loosely, he presses a kiss to your neck, just above the fabric of his t-shirt you were wearing. You lean back into him with a giggle, continuing to hum the same tune as you crack an egg over the skillet.
"What's that song you've been singing all day?" Rafe finally gives in and asks you, mumbling the question into your skin. 
You smile a little, tilting your head up to look at him. "Call it what you want by Taylor Swift, it's been stuck in my head for days. Are you asking because you like it?" you ask with a smirk, fully knowing Rafe's music taste is definitely not Taylor Swift.
Rafe gives you a look, "not particularly. I was just wondering what song I've been listening to you sing all morning," he said with a small smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.
You smile into the kiss, only breaking free when the eggs start to make a sizzling sound. "You should listen to the song though, it's really good," you add in a somewhat joking tone, as you move the eggs onto two plates.
Rafe simply hums in response. He tightens his arms around you for a moment before stepping back and moving to one of the cabinets to grab some salt and pepper, helping you with breakfast. 
As you eat together at the kitchen table and make plans for the day, Rafe makes a mental note to listen to ‘call it what you want’, later. 
The next day, you're tangled together with Rafe in his bed watching TV- well, kind of watching TV. 
“I have something to give you,” Rafe mumbles against your lips, pressing one last lazy kiss to your face before pulling himself off the bed.
You groan a little at the sudden loss of contact, leaning back against your pillow with a sigh. “What’s the occasion?” you ask, curiosity evident in your voice.
"No occasion," he says, smiling a little to himself as he pulls a small velvet box out of a bag in the corner of his room.
You sit up against the headboard, legs crossed and anxiously awaiting this mystery gift. You watch him intently as he smiles widely until he reaches the bed, sitting down so his body is facing toward you. He holds out the box for you to take, an excited glimmer in his eyes. 
You examine the black velvet box for a second, the Cartier label not going unnoticed by you. “This is so expensive, Rafe. Did I forget an anniversary or something?” you ask with a slight laugh, grabbing your phone to check the date. 
Rafe smiles and shakes his head, grabbing the phone from you. “No, no anniversary. Just wanted to do something nice for my girl. Open it,” he pleads impatiently, placing the box in your hands. 
“Okay, okay,” you say with a chuckle, undoing the ribbon around the box. When you open the lid, your eyes immediately shoot up to meet Rafes. “You didn’t…” 
“Do you like it?” he asks softly, wide smile playing on his lips as he sees the answer in your expression. 
You nod intently, too distracted by the shiny gold to form any words. You pull the necklace out of the box, holding it up in the light. You trace your thumb over the gold ‘R’ hanging on the chain with a beaming smile. 
Gaze moving back to his face, your suspicion is confirmed. He listened to the song.
“Because you own me?” you ask with a knowing smile. 
He grins and shakes his head, “nope, because I really know you.”
taglist(lmk if u want added!) @rafes-bae @willowpains @housekeeperjjswife @addisbooks @sofiatheseconf @rafecameronsofine @rosie-anne
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babygorewhore · 9 months
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Unholy Contrition
Rafe Cameron immediately wrote you off as some Bible thumping prude. And when his father died and left the entire fortune to him, he absentmindedly chose your father, A preacher, to speak at the funeral. But he catches something about you that reminds him of his favorite Porn Star. And he decides he’s going to corrupt you. What he doesn’t know is…you’re not as innocent as you act.
Okay guys the horny demon got me and I once again had to write about cocaine daddy because I’m addicted to him. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this and beta reading. I love you dolly.
Word count 5K!
Moodboard
Warnings! Talk of religion (duh) reader is a porn star, masks, masterbation, slight cat and mouse, choking, degrading, oral, unprotected sex! Virgin reader! Daddy kink! Kinda perv reader tbh but same. Slight breeding kink. And barely proof read I apologize.
Disclaimer: female in photos just for aesthetic purposes!!
When Rafe first saw her, it was at the annual outdoor movie where the pouges and Kooks got together. The pouges served food and drinks while he and his family sat comfortably in the front row. Topper, Kelce and himself watched JJ and Pope after their encounter. He thought they knew better than to fuck around with him and his friends. But he’d have to teach them. Burn it into their brains.
He was Rafe fucking Cameron. And they would learn their god damn place.
“Watch them.” He told Kelce and he got up. Kiera was getting a drink and this was an opportunity to assert his intent.
“Tell your boy, we know what he did.” His warning did nothing to sway her loyalty as she walked away. He smirked and then it fell when a girl was walking up to the line. It was the Preachers daughter.
He towered over her like most people but what caught his attention was the high neck shirt, covered thighs and worse. A cross on her neck and a wrap around cross bracelet around her hand. Her hair was in pig tail braids. She had doe eyes and bitten pink lips.
And she was carrying a fucking Bible. Which was a shame. She was pretty. Beautiful even. But he hated the church.
“Excuse me,” She whispered and moved past him. He had an urge to snatch it out of her hands and throw it. But he had more important things to do.
“Yeah; go ahead Jesus freak.” He hissed, bending down to say it to her ear. Her eyes widened and her brows pulled together.
“I-“
But he walked off. He wasn’t going to waste him time when he had two pouges asses to kick.
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Your dad gave funeral talks all the time but now you were weirdly excited to go. Not that you were excited about Ward’s death but more about who’s attending. Rafe Cameron would be there and you actually thanked god for it. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own belief system but the entire restriction? Fuck no.
But for the sake of your poor older father, you kept up the good girl facade. It was easy really. Keep everything simple, light pastel clothes while hiding what was underneath. Your nickname was Kitty from the cat ear beanie you had since you were a teenager. But your dad had a variety of nicknames for you.
All of them were gentle. Pure.
You adjusted your white lace turtleneck before your hands settled on your ankle length pink skirt. The very sight was way out of your true style but it would do for the service. Your white socks and black Mary Jane’s. Your cross bracelet, and necklace was a little overkill.
But no one knew how you used the cross in secret on your only fans.
The black thong you were wearing was already growing wet as you stood next to your father waiting for him to arrive. He greeted everyone with a handshake. Your eyes drifted over the crowd, mascara thick on your lashes as you subtly rose to your tiptoes. Damn, was he late to his own fathers funeral?
“Kitty, look who it is. Hello, Sarah.” You forced yourself to smile. She was crying with Topper on her arm. Apparently she and John B, Rafes arch nemesis, had broken up. For now anyway.
“Hi, Sarah, I’m so sorry…” You gave her a genuine hug and she squeezed tightly.
“Thank you, kitty.” She sniffed.
“Mr. Cameron, now that you’re here-“ You tried your best not to snap your head too directly in his direction but you slowly turned your head.
Rafe was wearing a suit and his hair was slicked back out of his eyes. Different than he had been running around a few weeks prior before he inherited the entire fortune.
He seemed…more unhinged. Something in his eyes flashed when he saw you, drank you in like a man after a day in heat. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you rolled your ankles, trying to seem smaller. More vulnerable. “Hi…Mr. Cameron. I’m so sorry for your loss…” You murmured.
His strong hand engulfed yours, his fingers long, covered in gold rings and warm. You looked into his blue eyes, shining on you and he said. “It’s still Rafe, little bunny.”
The nickname made you want to cum in your panties but you ducked your head with a blush. But you couldn’t blame him with your modest clothes and makeup. He returned to speaking with your father and you tried to keep your glances to a minimum. He was going to work for it.
The service was simple. Outdoors and you stood next to your father. You held a small Bible that was gifted to you in middle school as your cross dangled from in between your fingers. Rafe was staring at you. You could feel it but you wouldn’t give him the chance to meet your gaze yet.
You had a lollipop in your pocket. One you took out of your collection as you left your house. You always sucked on something. Your cross. Your dad wouldn’t think twice as you subtly unwrapped the paper and slowly licked a circle around the candy. Your tongue was lewd as you then pressed it passed your swollen lips.
You took another measure by your pointer and thumb pushing it back and forth and then you stuck it further…until it hit the back of your throat. Playing dumb, you gasped quietly and coughed. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, lipstick slightly staining. You then took an opportunity to look at Rafe.
His jaw was tight and he was biting his lower lip. Blue eyes were darkening as he inhaled the process of your action. His chest moved up and down rapidly. You wanted him to know you were baiting him. But you also wanted to fuck with his mind. So you did the most reasonable thing your thoughts came up with.
You gave him a small wink.
After the funeral, he was out of your sight. But you took the extra step by linking your second account on your instagram story. You knew he would watch it.
Your obsession with Rafe Cameron started in high school. He was a few months older so he graduated sooner. But when you first saw him, hanging around other girls and guys at the private school. Disobeying rules but having enough family power to ignore them. Turned you on. His rebellion was something you craved. Your attraction only grew when you saw him one day yank a girl into a closet and you heard how good he made her feel. Granted, you hid right outside the door. You wanted to be her.
You want him to throw you around. Use you. Take you like you were only made to be his little toy. Your fantasies only grew when you followed him on social media, he was public so you had fast access.
What he didn’t know was that you used your second account. Where you wore your sluttiest clothes without showing your face. You posted stories about sexual thoughts, songs and thirst traps of your body. And he commented on every single one.
“Fuck, I wanna see your pretty face.”
“I want to fuck you. Fuck your throat. Watch you leak with my cum.”
It was an endless amount of fun. You knew he wanted you. He just didn’t know you were both versions yet. And each response you gave him, ended with a wink.
“Kitty, you look tired. Do you want to head home?” Your father asked. You nodded sheepishly. Finally, you could get home and post more on only fans. You knew he would watch as well.
“Thank you, dad. I’ll see you later.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and started to the car.
It wasn’t an accident you parked across from him and you saw him walking in the direction. You dipped your hand into your pocket, acting like you were searching for your keys as you dropped a thin fabric on the ground. Quickly, before he could approach you, as you heard his shoes you got into the driver's seat.
Playing dumb was simply picking and choosing when you showed innocence. As you drove away, your plan cemented and you bit your lip.
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Getting home and settling into your bed, you wore the lingerie Rafe always requested. Normally you charged him more, but you’d give him a treat today. You pulled out your rabbit, spitting on it and slathering it with lube. You barely needed any on your pussy as you set your phone exactly where it showed the best angle.
You wore the cross on your bracelet as you traced your clit with it. A lot of girls did this but Rafe would consider that it’s yours. Maybe he wouldn’t. The doubt would drive him crazy. Just like he drove you crazy.
He was infamous for snorting coke at parties you were never invited to and you imagined smearing it across his gums before licking them. Or his strong fingers holding you down as he did a line on your body. What you wanted most? Being pinned down as he spat on your mouth and slapped your pussy. These thoughts drove you to easily slip two fingers inside as you grind onto your hand.
“Fuck me, daddy. I need you.” You whined. You wish he was here. You wish it was his hand instead of yours.
You tried to hold back, usually taking longer for a video but you came extremely quickly. As you laid there, sweaty and still needy. You glanced at the notifications. They were repeated. Sliding on your side, exposing your bare ass, you picked up your kitten mask and read the messages.
They were all from Rafe.
He was sending money. “Please, let me see that fuckable face. I’m begging you, kitten. I need it. I need to fuck that soaking pussy. Daddy needs you.”
You had to bite your lip to keep from chuckling.
Normally, you just winked. But this time, your fingers swiped and you replied.
“Work for it, daddy.”
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Rafe couldn’t get the image out of his head of you sucking the lollipop out of his fucked up head. You were the preacher's daughter for god's sake. Someone he teased for being some sort of Bible thumper and she probably didn’t even know what kinky meant. But…god she was pretty. The way she innocently batted her eyelashes at him like a bunny. That was what stuck out to him. A little bunny rabbit.
And then she winked at him. It felt so pointed. Purposeful. She also dropped a black damp thong on her way to her car. Rafe snatched it up before anyone could ever see it and he half scoffed and moaned. A creamy stain that was recent. Either she secretly touched herself or she was so wet that it soaked through and ran down her pretty legs.
The last words of the mystery girl on Only fans, who was his favorite porn star, gave him more than a wink this time. Work for it, daddy.
It made him cum all over his hand again just from her words so he couldn’t even imagine her pussy. But the doubt. The doubt was there. But she was-he clenched his fist. It was during the day and he had a second to breathe in between meetings.
Rafe typed her name on instagram.
As he suspected, it was mostly scenery shots, half faced selfies and photos with your father. A few of them you were smiling, apparently whoever took the photo made you laugh when you were at the beach. He almost swiped to another photo when he narrowed his eyes.
It was very small. He almost missed it but there was a small…handprint? Right below your swimsuit above your thigh. It had to be your hand, given the size but his mind drifted to a particular video where mystery girl spanked herself to his request. Was he being paranoid? He looked at another photo, a flashback to your graduation where John B took you to prom. And he felt at twitch in his jaw. But not before another detail caught his attention.
Underneath your bracelet. Left wrist. He saw a black mark. Not a mark, he zoomed in, careful not to like the picture.
It was a tattoo.
He couldn’t see what it was but his eyes widened. Mystery girl also had a tattoo there.
But you couldn’t possibly have one. Not the preachers daughter. Weren’t they forbidden or some shit? It was starting to drive him insane when his alarm went off.
“Fuck.” He muttered to himself and clicked the button. Turning his screen black. It couldn’t be you. Not this innocent girl who called him Mr. Cameron. But what if it was? He’d have to find out for himself. Anyway he needed to.
And here he was. At fucking church. He couldn’t remember a time he was here other than his dads funeral. Your dad was on the stage, flipping through a book he assumed was the Bible when he looked up.
“Mr. Cameron. What a pleasant surprise. Kitty, guess who’s here!”
He tried to keep his expression neutral as you came from a door on the left side. You wore a long light colored dress right above your ankle with the same shoes as the funeral. Your hair was in two braids with a kitten beanie, in this weather? And you still wore your two crosses.
But you were so pretty. Prettier than last time if it was possible. You gave him a small smile, ducking your head. “Hi, Mr. Cameron.”
He neared you both, trying to think of a way to subtly touch you without catching the attention of your father.
“Rafe. Um. I just wanted to stop by. Say thanks for the service. It-helped. Especially with Sarah. She’s all emotional and shit.” He quickly glanced at your dad. “Sorry.”
“No need. Freedom of speech is a gift. But you don’t need to thank me. It was Kitty who told me about him as well. So I could make it personalized.”
Rafe swore your eyes flashed. Just for a second. So he pushed. “You did? You friends with Sarah or something?”
You twirled your hair, apparently sucking on some sort of candy. When you opened your mouth, your tongue was red. “Yeah! We talk sometimes. I just wanted to help, you know?” You started sniffing. “I can’t imagine losing my dad.”
“Oh, honey…”
Rafe cleared his throat. Desperate to get you alone. “Hey-can I talk to you? Just for a minute, I wanted to ask you something.” He eyed you carefully and you nodded. Your dad didn’t seem suspicious. Which made his doubt increase.
Maybe the wink was a fluke. A nervous habit? Or maybe you did that to everyone.
You both stepped away, slowly walking down the aisle. He felt uncomfortable, wearing a suit when he wanted to feel loose. It was too constricting. You played the cross on your bracelet. He raked his brain for something or someway to look at your arm. He had to prove that you didn’t have a tattoo and he was just crazy.
“So, what did I want to talk about?” You prompt him and he clears his throat.
“I’m-“ Oh, no. What could he possibly say? “I’m trying to be more spiritual. You know, with my dad dead. I just want to have hope, you know? That I’ll see him again someday. I would ask your dad but you know. You’re more my age-“
“Oh, Rafe. You don’t have to explain yourself. Do you want me to help you? I can just…go over scriptures with you. Meet with you here. Doesn’t have to be complicated.” The way you said his name made him feel insane.
You had a tilt to your voice. The way you said the word. You didn’t sound like a little mouse for an instant. You sounded-confident. And then it quickly disappeared as your eyes flicked away. “Only if you want, I mean if you don’t, I understand-“
“No, I’d love that. And I also wanted to apologize for what I said. A while back.” This was the most awkward conversation he’d ever had in his life. You started twirling the end of your hair with a painted fingernail.
He squinted, trying to see any sort of ink. Nothing. He was right. And now he was stuck with some sort of scripture offer. “I-“ and then you stretched.
Your arms over your head and he didn’t know where not to look. Your tits were lifted, your neck exposed and then he saw your sleeve lift.
It was a black butterfly tattoo. It was medium sized. Pretty. And then he saw a few more peeking on yiur skin. Mystery girl had the same tattoo but it looked like you had more. Rafe snatched an opportunity.
“I like your tattoo.” He complimented. Hoping to get some sort of answer.
“Oh, thank you. The first one is from a while ago but the rest are new. Dad doesn’t approve but I promised to keep them covered up.” The candy you were sucking on. You rolled it around in your mouth and Rafe was bouncing with some sort of frazzled energy.
“What do you do? Outside of church?”
“I make jewelry. My own business. Sarah actually bought a few things. It’s obviously not Cameron level but I do pretty well.” A blush reddened your cheeks. Jewelry making? Damn. He didn’t have a fucking clue. But why did you wink?
He was going to lose his mind.
“That’s cool. I’ll have to-“He checked the time. He stopped here before going to the building for work.
“I have to get going. But I’m glad we talked. And I’m sorry again.”
“It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. Besides, I was still in high school and I was a little awkward.” You giggled behind a hand. Your smile was adorable and he had an urge to cup your face.
What was he doing? What was this end goal?
“Yeah, me too. Um-“
“Here,” You brought out your phone and opened the number key. “Just put your number in here and I’ll let you know when we can get started if you still want to!” She chirped as he quickly typed in his number.
Her phone in his hand was so small and he felt a twitch in his crotch. Her camera roll. It could be so easy. Just a Quick Look. Just to see. Just to be sure. But to his surprise, you took it back before he had a chance.
“It was nice to see you,” You nodded with a smile.
“Yeah! You too.” He said quietly and watched you walk away. His mind was even more fucked.
Who were you? Or who was the mystery girl? For once in his life, he did consider praying for an answer.
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Getting more tattoos at the same time he showed up at church wasn’t planned but it worked out exactly to your favor as you shut your room door with your hip and set your bag down. But you saw the wheels turning in his head. He was taking the bait and you smirked. This was almost too easy. Trapping him. But he was so desperate.
You needed to spark something in him, either get him to ask directly or get him to cave.
Adjusting your hair in your car mirror, you scanned your white dress for any stains. The small flowers decorating the fabric and your cross on your body. But this time you wore a pair of boots that your father nearly had a heart attack with. They were completely different than you normally wore. But you needed more proof that you were his favorite little bunny.
The church loitered with a few people, as they normally did after a Sunday service. Your knee bounced as you waited for Rafe as you sat in the front. You had a few scriptures in mind, ones to stir him and you knew he’d never imagine were in the Bible.
“Sorry, I kept you waiting.” His raspy voice caught you by the surprise but you slowly turned and looked up at him.
Rafe wasn’t in his suit today, instead his casual clothes but there was nothing casual about the way he was staring at you. His eyes were on fire. Full of desire and confusion.
“Oh! That’s okay, Rafe! I wasn’t waiting long! Please sit,” you scooted over and he seated next to you. His knee against yours. You didn’t move it.
“So, you want to hear a few scriptures, or I can pray for you, which would you prefer?” You spread your legs a little and Rafe swallowed. His jaw clenched.
“Uh-I-i don’t think I’ve ever prayed before. So the Bible is fine. I just want to make peace, you know. With my dad. But I have another problem.” You raise an eyebrow.
“There’s someone I really want. And I know it’s…against the lord of whatever. And I need some help. What should l do? How do I resist it like you?” His question hung in the air and your chest tightened. You were so tempted to tell him but that’s not what you wanted.
“Well. I just listen to what the Bible says about that. It keeps me strong. What it says is clear.” You nodded. You opened the book on your lap, “1st John 1:9 ‘if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness’” you looked at him.
“So, if you confess, God will help you.”
Rafe bit his lip and leaned in closer. “This girl. She’s a fucking porn star,” he growls. “And she wears a little kitten mask and she fucks herself all nice and obedient for me. But the problem is she teases me like a brat. She never shows her face even though I give her more money than she’s ever seen. She’s her fathers only child but she calls me daddy. And had the nerve to tell me to work for it. She fucks her cross on her pussy when she knows damn well I could do it better. But she hides. Hides behind this little innocent act with the holy Bible and looks at me with eyes that make me want to rob every single innocence away from her and expose her for the whore she is. And baby, I think it’s you.”
Your core was dripping on the bench. You were almost shaking with want and you almost had to look away from him. You felt exposed. He did figure it out. You weren’t quite prepared as you thought with his reaction. Despite your activity behind your close door, you hadn’t fucked anyone all the way. Making out with friends at sleepovers was as far as you got in real life. Your obsession with Rafe made you wait. You always knew he’d be yours. And you made it happen.
“I-“ he held a finger against your lips, cutting you off.
“No, no, no, see you’ve fucked around with me a little too long, little girl. Now, I get to show you exactly how big of a mistake that was. So, you’re going to go home and think long and hard about what’s going to happen next. For once, I think your God isn’t going to protect you from me.” Rafe pulled away and stood.
“How does it feel to be left high and dry? And by the way, nice tattoos.” And then he winked at you.
You gasped as he walked away.
Your thighs were growing damp from the leaking arousal and you were breathing heavily. Holy shit. It worked. You bit your lip as you pulled out your phone.
He had texted you. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
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When you got home, your dad was out. He was gathering his sermon scriptures and then to spend time with his small circle of friends. You told him you didn’t feel well enough to go. Your mask was secure on your face as you took photos in your bra and panties.
You planned on making more content but it was getting harder because you wanted Rafe so badly. You wanted him to fuck the brat right out of you, making all your dreams come true from his earlier talk. Pouting, you started going through tik tok, laying on your stomach. But then a noise caught your attention. Sitting up, you went to grab your robe when your door was bashed open.
Eyes wide, you see Rafe walk towards you, with a sadistic smirk on his face. He tilted his head, trailing his blue irises over your body, your naked knees pressing together.
“Hey kitty.” He said, stalking towards you. Rafe kneeled on your bed before grabbing your ankles. You shrieked as he dragged you towards him and loomed over you. “The mask was a really nice touch, baby.” Rafe glanced at the cross on your neck after he tore off your mask and threw it. He pulled it, tugging you up.
His breath hit your mouth. “You want to be my slut? All those fucking videos for me. Making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. You’re gonna regret it. Open your fucking mouth.”
You immediately obeyed and Rafe spit inside. He grabbed your jaw and closed it.
“What’s wrong? What happened to that little brat? Aw, she’s done isn’t she? Fuck, and I haven’t even done anything.” He tapped your cheek harshly. You felt his silver rings against your skin.
You were trembling but you grabbed his face and smashed your lips together. You tried sitting up but Rafe would have nothing less than submission as he pinned your hands above your head and dominated his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with brutal force and you almost came just from that. All these years and it was better than you could have ever imagined.
He ripped away and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Tell me you’re going to be good.”
Your air was cutting off and you nodded rapidly. “I’ll be good.”
“Say I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry for making me have to search for answers. And finally break into your fucking house.” Rafe snarled and tightened his grip. You could feel him hardened above you.
He shoved his hand inside your underwear, grazing your soaking pussy. His two fingers rubbed your clit but with too light pressure. Your eyes rolled back as your stomach tightened.
“You’re so pathetic. Gonna cum and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? A little whore but you’ve never done this with anyone but your own tiny fingers.” Rafe lent down and hovered over your mouth that was parted.
He pulled his hand away and you whined. “No, please, I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry for doing all this-“
“I’m sorry daddy,” Rafe mocked you, his fingers shoving inside your greedy entrance. “I’m sorry daddy that I’m a dripping whore and I need the Bible to get you to fuck me.” He started chuckling as you grew noisier. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
“I’m-“ He stopped and you almost screamed. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m a stupid dripping whore but I want you so bad. You can do whatever you want to me. I’ll take anything but please stop teasing-“
Rafe broke then, his hand removed from your neck and you sucked in air. His mouth slammed against yours as he ripped your underwear off, and fumbled with his belt. He slid down, kneeling on the floor as he spread your legs. Your glistening cunt made his eyes darken. “You’re so fucking wet for this.”
His tongue lapped at your clit, circling it around the bud before he licked the underside with pressure. You mewled and clawed the bed as he devoured you. Rafe’s tongue slipped inside you with ease as you clenched. You were so close it was painful. But he was relentless. Slowing when you were just about to reach your peak.
“Daddy, please make me cum.” You cried out, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m sorry, but please daddy.”
Rafe stopped and yanked off his pants and boxers. His heavy leaking dick was bigger than you thought as he wasted no time running it down your pussy. “This may hurt a little,” He warned before slamming in. “But you can fucking take it.”
Your nails clawed his back as he thrusted again. You moaned so loudly it surprised you but he met you in volume. “Fuck, daddy!” You said against his ear.
“Are you going to behave?” Rafe grunted as he crudely started massaging your clit. “Are you going to behave from now on?”
Your vision went white as your stomach tightened, “yes I promise,” You whispered before your pleasure exploded.
Rafe did too, his movements stalled as you felt him empty inside you, and your damp forehead rested against his.
“Maybe I fucked a baby in you, kitten.” Rafe sneered with a fucked out look. He was still inside you. “Looks like you corrupted me to your religion.” He smirked before pulling out.
“So…” You cleared your throat and looked at him with a small amount of vulnerability. “What does this mean? Is this it?”
Rafe inhaled and his fingers went to grip your jaw. His powerful face above you sent chills down your naked spine. “If you think you’re anything else but mine, then you’re a dumb little bunny. No one will ever touch you but me. Be with you but me. And besides,” He grinned wickedly. “Your dad already likes me.”
Tagging
@imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow
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fandoms--fluff · 1 year
Note
Hey do you think, you could do one of the Mikaelson have a little sister like 2 years old and always what to stay with Nik and Elijah….. also she is so jealous that Camil and she do something to her and Nik tells that she is a mini me
Loathing
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Flufftober, October 6th
Mikaelson little sister reader x Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson
Warnings: mention of blood
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You're sitting in Elijah's lap, playing with two Chelsea dolls you got some years ago, while he's on the phone with someone. It's quiet except for the sound of your big brother's voice every now and then.
It's all peaceful until Kol comes crashing into the room and sits on the ground in front of you. You tilt your head and hand him one of the dolls. "Play!" You tell him.
Kol nods and plays with you, making a horrible high-pitched voice for the doll which makes you laugh, but Elijah cringes and hopes he stops soon.
It's been ten minutes, "What the bloody hell is that horrible sound?" Klaus walks in, he clearly just got back from wherever he was. Most likely Cami, but he never discloses that information, knowing you've openly shown your dislike for her.
"Our brother's wonderful voice for a doll" Elijah sighs, putting his phone down.
"Hey! My voice is amazing!" Kol exclaims, hearing the insult and sarcasticness in Elijah's answer. "Yeah!" You cross your arms like Kol is.
"See! Y/n knows what she's talking about" Kol says as Klaus picks you up out of Elijah's lap and places you on his hip. You wrap your tiny arms around his neck and relax your head against his shoulder.
"Y/n is also two, I think you need a better defense" Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Technically she's over a thousand like all of us... I'll shut up" Kol says, seeing the looks he's getting from the big brothers.
Kol, having both dolls in his hand, places them down on the coffee table before leaving the room. He plans to go into town and create some havoc that all of his siblings (besides from you) will have a fuss about, but it'll be fun.
Later in the week, there's a party being thrown in the abboiter. It's all vampires and humans for them to feed on. Some to kill and some to compel away.
"Well, this seems to be quite the turn out" Rebekah walks over to you and Klaus, who's carrying you tightly in his arms. "Indeed it is, sister" Klaus smirks.
"Look at you all dressed up" Rebekah coos, running a hand through your hair. "I did all by my'elf" you say excitedly. You're wearing a long sleeve dark purple dress that flows out under the bodice, and matching purple glittery jelly shoes that are put on the wrong feet. But Rebekah didn't want to tell you that and make you feel bad or make you upset at yourself. You also have a couple bead bracelets on your wrists and a heart necklace that Elijah gave you that you never take off. Your daylight ring is on your right pointer finger as well.
"Well good job, beautiful girl" Rebekah kisses your forehead before noticing Cami making her way over, and leaves to go back into the crowd.
"Hey Klaus," Cami smiles. "Camille, You look beautiful" Klaus kisses her. "Mmm, thank you" she says.
You make a disgusted facial expression before facing back the other way and laying your head back on your big brother's chest. You wonder how thus girl seems to be everywhere and why she always comes up to you and your big brother. Why don't they just make her go away like other woman they have before. You don't know what happens to them, but you assume it's fine.
Your siblings make sure you're kept out of all the killing and death during your existence.
As they keep talking, you try to ignore them to the best of your abilities. How much longer, you keep thinking. You try looking for Elijah, so your other big brothers can take you away from them, but no luck. You can't seem to find him anywhere from where you're placed on Klaus' hip.
As soon as you hear her chuckle at something Klaus said, your 2 year old self gets fed up. So, you take off one of your bracelets and throw it as hard as you can at Cami's face.
Now you may be biologically two, but you're still an original vampire, and with that comes a lot of strength. The bracelet made a great slash in her pale cheek, now blood running down her face.
Klaus quickly vamps into his room with Cami and you still in his hold. He sets you down on his bed as he bites into his wrist and offers it to Cami.
As she drinks blood from his wrist, Elijah comes into the room, noticing Klaus vamping out of the courtyard with the both of you.
"What happened?" Elijah asks. You stay quiet, as you sit crisscross apple sauce on the bed, happy that Elijah's here, and even though Cami is now healed, you did something for her to stop talking. You really don't like her.
"Um, I'm fine, though I think it's time for me to go" She sighs, glancing at you before walking out of the room to go back to her apartment.
"What happened was someone decided to get a bit violent" Klaus informs him, facing you. Elijah follows his gaze, landing on your face. You have a slight smile on your face. Yay! you made Cami leave.
"Why did you hurt Camille, y/n?" Elijah walks over and crouches in front of you so you're face to face.
"Bad Cami! Don' li'e her" answer front forwardly. Elijah raises his eyebrows. It's known you're not a fan of the woman, but you've never actually said it out loud up until now.
Klaus chuckles. Elijah turns his line of sight to him, "What do you have to snicker about?"
"Oh, just the thought of y/n is slowly turning into a mini version of me" Klaus smiles and holds a thumbs up at you. You have a big grin on your face. "Niklaus, do not encourage this behavior" Elijah sighs. It's going to be a long life if this is going to keep happening regularly.
A new rule is set in place to make sure that you're never in the same room with Cami with less than one of your siblings. And that one day they can hopefully get you to like Cami and not loathe her.
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ravengards-rogue · 5 months
Text
i lose control (when you're not next to me.)
javier escuella x reader
✧ tags : afab + fem!reader (gendered language + wearing dresses etc), established relationship, religious imagery (maybe sacrilege)takes place in ch.4 of rdr2, submissive!reader, soft dom!javier, some spanish petnames (mi amor mi vida, and hermosa i think), pillowing humping, penetration, very lovesick sex lol, veryy established dynamic, praise kink, written like. sooo explicitly for @nanamimizz, 18+
✧ wc : 5.2k (after editing mind you)
✧ a/n : this is fucking nuts LMAOO. i wrote this like. no bullshit in a day. i don't know how that happened. mentioned in the tags that this is for my beloved best friend but i think it's still okay to post. im losing it a little. i have hw due in an hour
✧ synopsis : javier can't help but feel some ways about the way you miss him. so dreadfully obedient. so apparently needy. how could he not adore you?
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
There’s something a little pathetic in the way you pine after Javier that makes him a worse man than he is. 
He’s good to you though. Always. Down to his bones, the core of him. The soul of him. It’s hard to be anything but good to you. 
In all of his life, across lovers, men and women - he doesn’t think he’s met a single soul who simply likes him as much as you do. Who preens so pretty with so little, who doesn’t need much at all. Never met a woman who tucks and folds herself into corners just to be polite. Never thought he’d find it so fascinating, either - but you prove him wrong often. 
It’s testament to Javier’s adoration that he can’t help but notice you anyway. That even when your featherlight footsteps and darling voice fall off and get caught on the wind and blown away - Javier will still manage to find you. Even with all of your attempts to make yourself small and unrecognizable, his sharp brown eyes will still catch on the linen of your skirts and the threaded gold of your cross necklace. Javier’s own body betrays him in his love for you, in his wanting. 
Even though he’s not interested in pretending he doesn’t love you, his eyes and mouth and hands would look and call and search. They’d never give him the opportunity to be anything but in love. 
It’s important that he makes that known. He’s only ever interested in being a good man to you. Holding you and kissing you and worshiping you until you’re melty between his fingers. Javier loves loving the resistance out of you and you always make it so easy for him. 
He’s a good lover by nature and by practice. Passionate and maybe a little conceited, it’s not his first brush with romantics. He can only hope it’ll be his last. 
Even so, he’s never been liked the way you like him. 
You like Javier in a way you seem embarrassed by when you remember. It causes you to act in ways out of character on the surface, emboldened. Maybe just needy. Enough to bask in his praise and affection once a little liquor has touched your mouth. You like Javier in a way that makes you lovesick and puppylike, all honeyed gazes and pouty lips. He’s never met somebody who likes him the way you do, without grandstanding. Just pure, puppy love. Almost innocent if you don’t look too long. 
Almost being what matters most. 
Javier knows the way you were raised, after all. Knows the intimate ways in which you fold yourself and tuck your wants between the pages of your diary and slip your requests under your tongue. It’s hard for you to want for anything too much because you’ve been told your whole life that wanting at all is a sin. Wanting may even get you killed. A good woman should want nothing but salvation. Anything more than that is indulgence and there’s nothing good about that. It translates in the way you carry yourself. You’ll stop and fumble and shy away before even fixing your lips to ask, like you’re planning on being rejected or told no. 
A good girl like you being told no so often, it’s made you all sacrifice and empty prayers. Javier often feels grief about your lives before each other but nothing makes it so evident as that. A good woman, a beautiful and kind and soft one like you should never hear the words no without the best of reasons. That’s what Javier believes for all of his lovers, but you’re special. 
And that makes it worse. 
For you he’d do anything. No price he wouldn’t pay, no place he wouldn’t go, nothing that’s too far out of his reach. He thinks maybe he’s so eager to give it to you because he knows you don’t have it in you to take it yourself. You won’t whine greedily even if Javier tells you too, so Javier’s giving is only a partial virtue. It’s mostly pride, after all. It hurts his ego a little when you refuse to bask in the love he so enthusiastically wants to drown you in. 
Despite his complaints though, it’s a part of you that makes him so weak to you. That you want with such desperation but don’t allow yourself to take - so it makes you pliant and willing and terribly, adorably pathetic. You’re so weak for Javier. Just for him, you always say. Always with a hand in his, or wrapped around his bicep. All yours, Javi. Always his. 
That’s the thing. Javier wants to give everything in the world to you. He wants to be good to you, and he so often is. But you do things sometimes, all collapsed under the weight of your own desire that drive him insane. Make him act in ways he normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Depraved and filthy and unromantic in all senses of the word. 
It’s really not very polite for Javier to stand and watch you at his door - humping his pillow with weeps and huffs. It’s not kind to embarrass you. He’s a good man, and a good man would cover you with his coat and maybe smile about how much you care for him. 
But there’s just something about the look on your face when you do it, something about the tear stains in your lashes and the way your cheek is pressed in his jacket. Something about that needy, incessant little ache in your voice as you call and call and call for him. As if you’re hoping you’ll answer despite him not being there.
Javier is a good man to you. Maybe he could be better. Maybe he’s not good enough.  
He stands in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a soft, gentle grin. There’s no question he’s behaving a worse man than he is. Than he ought to be. 
He’s quiet as he shuts the door, balancing his weight to remain noiseless. 
Javier doesn’t particularly like being all the way out in Saint Denis nor is he fond of intel missions. The city is loud, the people unfriendly - though he likes the music and art. He prefers staying in camp if he can help it, but this big bank heist has everyone busy. He’s at least thankful that it’s given him an excuse to be with you. Your knowledge of herbs and poisons and the like have been helpful to gathering information. Been a lot of slipping things in drinks and making people forget. The sort of dirty work he’s accustomed too, while also getting a chance to be with you in a place with four walls and a bath. A dream for the future, maybe. 
It’s been nice, but he’s been out now for two days - out in the streets gathering information about Bronte’s people. A bunch of lowlifes just like them, but with their hands in the pocket of the city. He’s only been gone for two days, so there’s no reason you should miss him this much. And yet he hears it anyway. And it pleases him, truthfully. 
He takes off his coat as he listens to you at the doorway. Shrugs the middle-weight material of his sheen suit jacket over his shoulders and lays it on a chair, takes off his wingtip-gaiter shoes, undoes the yellow puff tie from around his neck. Nothing but a white linen dress shirt and the dark black slacks he’s been wearing for days now, some parts covered in bloodstains he only barely managed to wash out in the river not long ago. 
He’s thankful he took a bath before getting in now, listening to you moan. His hands being clean feel like a blessing - just his luck. 
He manages to remain quiet as he steps into the main room - a single bed in the center. Javier finds you there in a heap as he rests his body along the wall of the entrance to his right. He crosses his arms over his chest as he takes a minute to take in the scenery, admiring the soft lowlights and the way they cast shadow on your body. 
The wooden bed frame creaks slightly as you rut your hips. You’re out of it, Javier can tell, since you’ve yet to sense the fact he’s come in. The paintings along the back wall click against soft red walls themselves, over and over in an arrhythmic tic. Javier tries not to laugh. Gives himself a minute to admire the moment for what it is, the vulnerable desperation of your lust. He has to get over the disbelief, too. Over the fact your face is buried in the open part of his bluecoat and that you’ve got a hotel pillow(his hotel pillow) between your legs. One that you’re humping so frantically he can’t help but feel sorry for you. 
You’re making a mess.
You are a mess. The way the white chemise falls over your back and hips, and the lack of finesse in your gestures. If Javier had to bet money on it - he’d bet money on the fact you probably didn’t start this way. He figures you nested with his coat and pillow to go to sleep and then worked yourself into something senseless and desperate. And he’d figure if he didn’t show up, you wouldn’t cum at all. You’d go to bed all frustrated and tired and just wait for him like always. 
Any man would be pleased by it, he thinks. And a good one would never embarrass you about it. Javier tries his best. Weighs his options, but the words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them. 
Pure elation in his words wrapped up in a smug delight. “Aye, hermosa - you’re gonna ruin my things you know?” 
Your reaction is what he expects. You jump out of your skin first, sitting straight up. Javier bites back a laugh as you do, big wide eyes like a deer caught in the scope of a rifle. You look around the room, worried you’re imagining him. Once you’ve come back to reality enough to realize he’s real and tangible - all the neediness washes right back into your expression. 
“Javier,” You sniffle and god. Javier hopes the heavens are more merciful to him than he is to you. “Javi,” 
“I’m home,” He voices in a partial tease, walking towards you. He can tell you want to run to him. To crawl into his arms and lap and collapse there forever, but the dull throbbing between your legs is stopping you. “I would ask if you missed me but, somehow I get the feeling you did.” 
You let out a soft, sniffly whine as Javier sits in the bed next to you. He turns his body to face you a little better but keeps distance. You turn your face towards him. Javier cups your cheek in his palm, eyes tracing your features. Your lips are bruised like you’ve been biting on them to keep the noise down and your eyes are wet with tears, red stained in the waterline. His thumb brushes along the thin skin of your lower lip, clicking his teeth at you. 
“Look at you,” He reprimands, his voice tender as he leans in to give you a little relief. You kiss Javier too eagerly, impatient and lacking your usual timidness. It’s how he knows how far you’ve fallen. How simple and easy your reactions are. “You’re going to hurt yourself pushing so desperately,” He laughs again, a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel good, at least?” 
“It’s better when you do it,” You admit, falling forward. Javier doesn’t let you drop, but he doesn’t comfort you right away either. He laughs and lets a hand rest on your lower back, relishing in your reaction. You shiver, sensitive and overstimulated with so little at all. 
“I know,” He coos with as much faux-sympathy as he can manage. “Couldn’t wait for me a little longer? I’m hurt.”
“Nooo,” You draw the words out, pitiful and upset “I’m sorry. I missed you,” 
“It’s okay,” Javier says, knowing he wasn’t mad in the first place. Not even a little. “Ahh, what should I do with you now, do you think?” 
It’s hard not to laugh at the immediate noise of disapproval. He’s sure you’d be able to ask him for what you want if he coaxed you into it. One whispered word of tell me what you want, and you’d be begging for his cock with ease. Filthy words from such a pretty mouth, he likes the idea. 
But he’s feeling… something. Something on the border of sadistic and loving that has him instead thinking. 
Pretending to think. 
“Maybe you should keep going, hm? You’ll think clearer once you’ve let it out, don’t you think?” 
“I can’t,” You bemoan, pleading with him. “I’m trying but it’s—it’s not enough, Javier, please.” 
He shakes his head. “Oh, man. What am I gonna do with you? Should I help you, mi amor?” 
You nod your head rapidly. As if he’d ever leave you out to dry when you look all pretty helpless. He doesn’t mention it to you. “Please,” 
“Yeah? I’ll help you then.” He offers, taking your hand and guiding you to his lap with his legs stretched out. He sits you over his thighs, glancing back at his jacket and pillow, brows raised when he sees how sticky they both are. Your habit of drooling and your cunt soaking his pillow case, he laughs just a little seeing the state of them. You must notice because you hit his shoulders weakly. “So needy,” 
“Javier.” 
“Alright, alright,” He laughs again, kissing your cheek as he brings you to him. You frown but comply with his handling of you, strong hands pulling you over his thigh. He sits you down until your bare cunt is pressed against the clothed muscle. It dawns on you what he’s doing as he’s doing it, a noisy little whimper sounding as Javier pulls you close. Close enough to wrap your arms around his neck. He puts a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to bury his face into the space of his shoulder. He can feel the relief in you when you do, slumping into him a second time today. “You have to move on your own, you know? I won’t help you.” 
“You’re being awful,” You say with no real malice or bite. 
“I’m a little hurt, that’s all. And I’m helping you aren’t I? Is that not what you want?” 
You groan against the skin of his neck. “I want your…ngh,” 
He hums against you, decides to be merciful since he’s teased you plenty and he’s going to tease you more. 
“Wanna feel me right here, don’t you?” He puts a hand between your bodies, pressing the back of his hand into your stomach. “I know, I know. But I want you to cum like this first.”
“Can’t do it by myself,” You sniffle. Don’t even try to push back, so obedient and willing. Javier hums sympathetically. 
“I’m here right? I’ll help you, mi vida. I’m not that mean, am I?” 
You shake your head no. He most definitely is, but maybe he can keep that a secret from you a little longer. 
“Here,” He says. Javier pulls your chemise up until it’s pooling at your waist. Strong, tan hands hold at your hips, squeezing the soft skin with a warm sigh. You keen immediately. He pushes his thigh up just slightly to give you the right kind of friction. Hiccuping in his lap, he sets a pace for you to grind yourself on him. A slower back and forth. When you get too wet, too needy - you get sloppy. Sometimes he can give it to you hard and fast but you’re sensitive. Sensitive to the point it’s easy to make you hurt, make yourself hurt if you’re too clumsy. 
You’re always chasing pleasure but you don’t know anything about build-up. For a girl who tends to keep to herself and is always so meticulous - there’s something about seeing you get so sloppy that turns Javier on. When you’re wet and can’t think straight “Not too fast, okay? You’re sensitive, need it slow at first to make it feel good if it’s like this. Did you forget?” 
You nod, then moan hotly against his throat. Javier shivers at the way your tune changes. He can feel you breathe in his scent and relax as he guides your hips. He eventually stops touching you. Lets you take control of the pace just like he shows you. You manage to pace yourself despite how much you want to cum. Javier can feel how pent up you are. The fabric of his slacks going sticky, tacky from cum and arousal. 
You smell nice and soft, like baby powder and something floral. 
Javier’s been hard since he got in the door, but it’s starting to fog his mind up. Feeling your tits press against his chest, feeling your skin against his. Soft and pliant and beautiful. He kisses against your shoulders as you slowly start to build your orgasm up again. Not that it’s hard. 
You pull away from him, briefly - and your face makes his dick twitch. You’re always pretty but you’re especially pretty like this. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, eyes lidded and barely blinking.
“Javi,” Your words are slurred. Javier laughs but doesn’t clean you up. “Kiss me,” 
“Sure,” He replies, though he’s all too happy to do it. Javier kisses you with tongue. He knows it’s what you want. Your hands curl up at his chest as he brings his own to cup your head and pull you to him. His tongue in your mouth is invasive but precise, knowing all the ways you want him to nip and kiss and suck on your mouth. You whine in complete pleasure, drunk from the sensation and he’s hardly touched you at all. 
He thinks of how he’ll fuck you as he kisses you. He’ll touch you more than he is now and you’ll fuck like lovesick rabbits until sunrise. It’s less something Javier decides and more something he knows. Like once he opens the door to pleasing you like this, it’ll be tough on him to close it again. 
“Javi,” You keep calling his name. It might be the only word you remember. Always seems to be when you get like this. “It feels so good. Feels so good when you touch me,” 
Javier kisses against your bare shoulder and neck, teeth scraping soft against your clavicles. “Mm. You’re doing well. A very good girl today,” 
You shudder at the praise, all the hairs on your neck raising from the drop of it. Javier laughs. You whine his name again but he doesn’t reply. He can feel you more than he can see you. Your body is twitching against his thigh and your muscles are tight where you hug against him. Javier calms you. 
“Gonna cum soon, huh?” 
You nod over and over, but can barely keep your head up to do it. And he laughs, full of fondness and affection as he peppers your face with kisses. He doesn’t have it in him suddenly, to tease you about it any more. He encourages you instead, hand on your hips to give you more friction as you start to grow erratic in your breathing. You pant hard against his ear, like you’re chasing something. Little bunny rabbit, he thinks. Your voice is little more than a croak. 
“Oh,” You moan, loud and helpless and needy as you cling to him. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as you cry out his name one more time. A prayer, maybe. Or a curse. Something in between. “Javier, oh,” 
“Shhh, that’s it. Just like that. Good girl. You’re so good to me.” 
You weep into his neck as you cum, your whole body tightening before breaking out into aroused shakes. You’ve completely lost it in front of him. On the brink of insanity with nothing but pleasure filling your empty-head. You hump against him thoughtlessly as you ride out your high, then finally lean against him when you’ve managed to reach the end of it. You don’t move. Javier can feel how big the wet patch of his pants has grown and tries not to laugh. 
You’re only barely coherent when you’ve finally pulled away. Your pupils are blown out and your face is flushed, sweat making your hair stick to your skin in the places it’s not tucked away. Javier laughs at the state you’re in, brushing his thumb along your cheek just beneath your eyes. 
“Are you with me still, do you think?” 
You nod, seemingly exhausted. He laughs again and kisses your temple. 
“Want you,” You say, despite your state. His eyes widen again at how soon after you’re asking him. He was planning on taking his time, but that plan might just be out of the race. He’s not above you begging him so sweetly. “Please, Javi. Need you, need you so bad.” 
You sound like you’re about to cry. He speaks in soft murmurs. “I thought you’d be too tired to keep going right away.” 
“No,” You mumble and shake your head. “Please. Please, want you so bad.” 
“You’re exhausted, mi vida.” 
“Please,” 
He chuckles. “Okay. Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, remember. Unbutton my shirt for me, mi amor.” 
You sniffle, your hands shaking as you fulfill his request. You’re exceptional at listening. Javier smiles at you, your eyes meeting as you do. You flush and pout, only barely managing to maintain his gaze without looking away. You unbutton his shirt dutifully. He puts a hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly. “You must’ve missed me a lot, huh.” 
You nod. “It’s bad, you know? Two days shouldn’t feel so long. It didn’t use too.” 
“Just means we love each other,” Javier assures, a safe place for you to express your neediness. “That’s nothing bad,” 
You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “That’s true,” 
“See? And it’s nice you know. Having someone miss me. Wait for me. Makes me want to come home instead of, I don’t know.” He feels his throat tighten at the sincerity but pushes through anyway “Dying for the cause. Or even just because.” 
It’s the first time you’ve smiled all day and god. Might be the only thing that’s ever mattered. Above all forms of love prior and past. Above revolution. Above god. Just you. You smile, happy and elated and keep unbuttoning his shirt with a coquettish-ness to you. Comfortable and safe. 
You help Javier out of his shirt, and wait for his approval to go after his pants. Undoing the buttons, you free his cock from the confines with a soft gasp. Javier laughs at the reaction, cat-like grin on his features. 
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”  
“It’s so big,” You say, your hand wrapping around it briefly. Javier swears, head against the headboard. 
“Careful,” He warns, laughing thickly. “I’m pretty pent up too,” 
“Want it inside me,” You say so easily it startles him. You blink up at him through your lashes, too pretty for your own good. “Please?” 
“Should open you up a little.” 
“Want it to hurt,” You reply instantly. Javier feels his breath hitch. 
“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, trying to keep himself from cumming in your hands. “We’ll go slow.”
You nod quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Javier curses himself for not being more polite. 
He guides your arms around his neck, his own arm around your waist as he lays you down on your back. You look up at him, surprised by his handling of you but not upset by it all. You mumble something he doesn’t catch, but it sounds pleased. 
Javier finds that he’s fond of missionary. He didn’t think he was the type, but there’s something about seeing you laid on your back that he likes. Likes being able to look at you and be close to you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you curl into him. He lays you down gently on his spine, laughing at the way your legs wrap around his waist the second you’re comfortable. His hands go up under your knees but don’t push you too far. You spread your legs for him naturally, eyes fluttering with exhaustion and leftover stupid want. He looks down at you and smiles. 
“One more, okay? Just the one.” 
“I can’t,” You whine “Too sensitive. Just want you to cum on me,” 
“Are you doubting me?” He challenges, only partially. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “Of course you can. One more,” 
You whimper, suddenly realizing you had no choice in the first place. But you nod, relenting to him like you so often do. Javier kisses you. It means more things that he’s comfortable telling. Means thank you, and that he’s sorry, that he loves you. He kisses you one more time after that, and smiles at how happy you seem because of it.
Finally, when Javier lays you down on the sheets beneath you - it feels like finding religion all over again. The loose material of your chemise has given up on covering you, exposing the soft mound of your chest and hardened nipples. He can see your neck and shoulders and everything else above and below. You’re so beautiful his cock twitches again, hard. 
He sits back up on his knees and takes a deep breath as he lays his cock against your puffy folds. You breathe soft, an aching sound from the back of your throat as you pull your skirt up to give him better access. He laughs gently at that, examining how nearly seven inches measures up to you and feels a little dizzy in the process of it. He’s done this with you so many times now, practically trained your body to take him without too much trouble. A welcome change from when you could barely fit the tip, too inexperienced to do it but even more determined. 
Even still some part of him worries about it. It’s not enough to stop him though, not nearly. His cock twitches against hard, wanting for you. He looks down at you and sees you stare up, admiring his figure. He laughs. 
“Like the view?” 
You nod. “Mm. Uh-huh.” 
“I’m glad,” He replies, then adds “Deep breath,” 
So you take a deep breath, and Javier pushes the tip of his cock into you with a loud grunt. You’re so soft. Wet, and pliant and soft around the swollen head of his cock, he can’t help but shudder with relief and desire. Can’t help but grit his teeth and grip onto your hips to steady himself. 
You breathe like the air has been punched out of your lungs, saying his name dreamily. “Oh, Javi,” 
He swears under his breath, something incoherent as he pushes the tip push into you evenly. It’s not easy. The resistance is there, but you don’t whine in pain right way - so it means it’s not too hard on you. Perhaps loosened by the previous orgasm, or simply so needy that it doesn’t bug you. Still, Javier makes sure to keep himself tight. He rocks, back and forth, ignoring the agony of that sensation to keep him from thrusting up into your soft, welcoming cunt. If he listened to what he wanted, he can’t be confident it wouldn’t make you ache. He already knows you will with this much. 
It takes a few minutes, and some whimpering from you before he finally manages to bottom out. 
You feel good. God, you feel good. 
He can’t imagine heaven, but he thinks being inside of you might be close enough. There’s certainly all the makings of religion when he makes love to you. You, a soft and loving deity, and him - a man laden with sin who longs to be saved. It makes sense to compare you that way. And it feels just as euphoric as the always described, being wrapped in you. Being part of your completion. What's religion without worshippers, anyway? 
Javier groans as he bottoms out inside of. When he manages to peel his eyes open and look at you, you’re debauched. He’s debased you this completely and he doesn’t know if you can even tell. He laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck and run pecks against your jaw. 
“Feel good?” 
“Feels so good,” You moan, then hold him tighter. “I love you. Love you Javier,” 
“Me too, mi amor. Para siempre. ” He hums, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Can I move?” 
“Please,” 
“Touch yourself for me,” He tells you patiently. “Make yourself feel good.” 
You nod, dazed - a hand between your bodies as Javier sets a pace to fuck you. He knows you in and out. At least well enough to know exactly the ways to make you feel good. Only a few thrusts for him to find the perfect pace, perfect rhythm, perfect spot. You make a noise like a songbird, deep in the back of your throat and Javier can feel you pulse around him in pleasure. 
You stay like that, with him. Javier fucks you to his hearts content in deep, long thrusts - angled against the softest parts of you and wanting to make you feel good. He whispers sweet nothings as your nails dig into the muscle of his back. You feel good for him. You are good for him, wet and perfect. It takes all of his strength to fuck you consistently, the bed rocking underneath you both as he gives it to you hard. 
“I’m close,” You whimper, not seeming to believe yourself despite. “I’m so close, oh god, Javier.” 
“That’s it,” He whispers, chuckling against your skin “One more. Just one more and I’ll give it to you.” 
It’s the promise of his cum that drives you over the edge. You gasp and groan, shuddering as Javier pounds you through your second orgasms. He groans as he feels your pussy spasm and tighten around him, practically begging him to put it inside. He’s nearly lost his sense enough to do it, unhelped by the way your sweet voice begs him for it. He practically has to pry himself away from you, out of you to keep himself from cumming inside as deep as he can possibly go. 
He manages, barely, to stave off his own orgasm. Long enough pull himself out of you with a broken gasp and cum outside of you. Making a mess of your stomach and your soft, swollen cunt with his seed. He paints you in thick ropes of whites as he swears loud in the process, euphoria rumbling through him uninterrupted. 
“Fuck,” He moans, finally getting to the end of it. A little embarrassed by how much of a mess he’s made right along with you. “You do something crazy to me, you know that?” 
You stare at him, bleary eyed and giggly despite your exhaustion. “I know. Me too. I missed you,” 
He laughs, and can’t find the words to say anything but the same back. Of course Javier is a worse man when you’re around. 
Any man loved this much is bound to be a little ruined. 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
490 notes · View notes
viennakarma · 1 year
Text
After you
Fernando Alonso x reader
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Summary: There's a life before becoming Fernando's sugar baby and there's a life after becoming his sugar baby.
Word count: 2.7k
Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, established relationship, sugar baby x sugar daddy, Dom!Nando, little breath play (choking), spanking, face slap, a bit of dirty talking, degradation, overuse of pet names (bc it's spanish duh!), big age gap (reader is early 20s, in college), everything implicitly consensual, not beta read
Note: i'd like to start by saying you nando fuckers were right and these 3 fernando media (see above) changed my life forever, thank you. gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also considering taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots, would anyone be interested?
Find me on Twitter!
As soon as you enter the flat, you take off your overcoat and leave it behind the door. You go to your room, but you stop when you see several gift boxes laying on the floor beside the bed, which you recognize the brands, Tiffany, La Perla, Chanel, among others. But you feel exhausted from college finals and you leave the boxes behind and head straight for the bathroom.
Eight months ago, when you lived in a tiny dorm on campus, working two shifts beyond university to pay for your studies, all these brands used to be a distant luxury you would never afford on your own.
But there was a life before becoming Fernando Alonso's sugar baby; and another one after all that.
Now you have a nice, comfortable, luxurious apartment close to campus, your university is fully paid for months in advance, and you don't have to use the dorm's communal bathroom. It sometimes feels like a dream and you think you're going to wake up back in that moment much earlier.
You fill the bathtub and take off your clothes, looking in the mirror, you see two hickey marks near your breasts. Fernando was mindful not to leave marks in visible places. You step into the tub and allow yourself to be enveloped by the scented salts and bubble soap. You rub yourself slowly, pushing away all the tiredness and stress of the entire day, using the shower gel that Fernando liked on you.
After scrubbing yourself down, you step out of the shower wrapped in a fluffy robe. You dry your hair with the dryer, and head back to the bedroom.
On top of the gifts there is a note that you missed before.
“To my girl, I know you worked really hard to do well on your finals. Enjoy your gifts. See you tonight, cariño. - Fernando"
You open Tiffany’s blue box first, it's the smallest one. Contains a pair of star-shaped diamond earrings, and a silver necklace with a matching pendant. You smile when you realize that it's been eight months and he already knows your taste for clothes and accessories. The second box you open is a Coco de Mer, a lingerie brand. With two pairs of lingerie inside, both in lace, one black, with stockings and garter belt and the other red, transparent with ribbons that cross the abdomen.
Getting out of bed, you pull on the black one, adjust the stocking on the garter belt and hang the robe in the bathroom again, staring at your reflection in the mirror, barely registering the messy young misfit you were just months ago.
The other boxes mostly contain clothes and accessories. Pants, skirts, dresses, handbags, wallets and backpacks. After taking a look at everything, you take the pieces to the closet and leave them on the chair to arrange later.
Then you hear the sound of the front door opening and you know it's Fernando. You lay down on the bed and wait for him. Lying on your stomach with your butt in the air, you look at Fernando when he enters. He's not wearing his team shirt, he's just wearing a white shirt and denim pants. He stares at your body, but your eyes settle on a box in his hand, he puts the box, his phone and wallet on the bedside table. He smiles, moving closer and bending over to leave a gentle bite on your ass. His masculine scent envelops you and you feel the urge to rip his clothes off and push him on the bed, and ride his cock until the sun comes up tomorrow.
“Hi, bebé,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your temple, “How were the exams?” he asks as he sits on the king size bed, his back against the headboard. He pats his own thigh, and you quickly crawl up, onto his lap sitting facing him. You hope he feels your underwear wet with anticipation.
“Thermodynamics was easy, but Quantum Physics, not so much,” you say, as he opens the box that you know as one of Belgian chocolates, your favorite.
“You’ve studied so hard for both, so I think you'll do well,” he says, pulling out a chocolate with almonds from the box. With his other hand, he grips your hip.
He brings the chocolate up to your mouth and you take a bite, wiggling in his lap as the chocolate melts in your mouth.
“You did so well on your test last week,” he compliments, and his gentle tone turns you on even more. You feel his fingers making way inside the lace of your panties and you hold on to his shoulders, keeping your balance and granting more access to you.
He takes another chocolate from the box and takes a bite of it as his fingers find your pussy. Fernando rubs his index and middle fingers, spreading your wetness. You melt into his arms and place your hand on the back of his neck. He gives you the second piece of chocolate at the same time as his fingers penetrate you. You're so wet, his fingers slide easily inside, massaging your pussy calmly, oh so calmly that you roll your hips into his fingers, trying to make him go faster.
“Quiet, princesa,” he commands, and you stop the hip movement. He shoves the fingers that were holding the chocolate into your mouth, and you suck hard until his fingers are clean.
His other hand, the one inside your panties, you feel keeping the maddening slow pace, completely ignoring the need for relief in your clit. You slide a hand down your belly to bring it to your clit, but he takes your hand away and cups your chin, a possessive look in his brown-almost-green eyes.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asks brusquely, and you just stare at him. “Eh? Did I?”
“No,” you reply huskily, knowing he can feel you getting even wetter at his firm tone. He slaps your cheek, and your pussy throbs around his fingers, you can see in his eyes that he feels it. And he absolutely loves it.
“No, what?” he says, a smug smirk on his face.
“No, sir.” you say and he strokes the cheek he slapped. Fernando takes your chin and pulls your lips to his. He kisses you obscenely, with lips and tongue and his face inching up against yours.
“I know your week has been pretty stressful, then behave yourself so you can get your reward, okay?” he says in a gentle tone, finally picking up the speed of his fingers and pushing the palm of his hand against your swollen clit. You whimper, holding a moan in your throat and the urge to move your hips to keep pace with him and come faster, but you hold back.
Then Fernando's phone rings, interrupting the two of you. He lets the phone ring, and you groan when his other hand grips your hip tightly, squeezing your ass. The phone stops ringing, but then it rings again.
“No, Nando, please… Don't answer it, Papi” you whimper, already feeling his fingers stop stimulating you. He grabs your hips and places you to the side, back on the bed.
“So needy, bebé,” he mutters, biting softly on your chin before getting up, “I need to pick this call, babygirl. Won’t be long, yeah?” He grumbles, taking the phone from the nightstand. you watch as Fernando answers, muttering “Alonso speaking,” as he leaves the room.
Frustrated, you lie back on the mattress and stare at the ceiling, knowing he's probably going to take longer than he said he would. He always took long calls about his team, or his car, or whatever. It's almost involuntary as your hands slide down your abdomen and you rub your thighs together to get some friction. With your hands, you gently pinch your nipples through the lace of your bra, feeling a hypersensitive moan escape your lips. You slide your hands and press your clit over the wet panties, just looking for some relief while he doesn’t come back.
The need for release is stronger than you are as you slide your hand inside your panties, circling your clit with pressure, gasping.
At that moment, Fernando re-enters the room, and you quickly remove your hand. But the furious look on his face tells you he already caught you red handed. Heart racing, you watch as he clicks his tongue in a reproving gesture. He walks into the closet and returns with a pair of leather cuffs.
“I thought I made myself clear…” he murmurs, yanking hard on your wrists to get you to your feet, “You only touch yourself with my permission.”
You swallow hard when he cups your face and then slaps you across the face. You bite your bottom lip, smiling. He takes your wrists and secures them with the restraints, behind your back. Fernando slaps you again, and you feel the wetness pool in your panties.
“You love it, don't you?” He smirked with another slap. “Being treated like the slut you are. My slut. Knees on the floor,” he commands, his tone doesn't leave space for anything other than obedience.
His firm touch on the back of your neck compels you down until your knees meet the floor. You feel your mouth water as he starts struggling with his own belt, undoing the buttons on his pants just enough to pull his cock out. You immediately wet your lips and open your mouth, expecting to feel him on your tongue.
He shoves his cock into your mouth all at once, almost reaching your throat, and you have to control your gagging, eyes immediately watering.
“Open wide, babygirl” he gasps, taking control of slowly sliding into your mouth. He massages your face, as if to relax your jaw further. “Yes, just like that” he moans softly as he touches your throat.
He holds your head, keeping you still as the only movement is in  his hips, his cock fucking your mouth. As you adjust to the volume of him moving in and out of your mouth, he picks up speed and you feel saliva wetting his entire length and running down the side of your mouth, dripping to your chin.
“Want me to fuck you, huh?” he asks but doesn't release you from his cock so you're able to answer. “Want to cum, bebé?”
He doesn’t let you go, nor does he take his cock out of your mouth. So you just hum around him, the vibration of your voice making him let out a groan.
“I don't know…” He pretends to think a little, his hips stuttering. “You disobeyed me, didn't you? I don't think you've earned your reward yet.”
He pulls his cock away from your mouth, and you watch a trail of saliva break from the distance. You close your mouth, taking the opportunity to relax your jaw.
“¿Cuál es tu color? (what's your color?)” he asks, his voice going immediately tender, looking down on you.
“Verde. (green)”
“Up you go” Fernando points to the bed as he removes the belt from the cases of his pants, and you quickly get to your feet and throw yourself face down on the mattress, your arms still pinned behind you. “On all fours” He commands and you obey, the top of your head pressed into the pillow and your ass in the air.
You feel his fingers gently rub up and down on your hips, and then he finally removes your panties. Not an instant later, you feel the belt snap on your ass, stinging.
“What did you do wrong, princesa?” he asks, then hits you with the belt once again, making you shiver.
“I touched myrself without-” you cut yourself off with a mewl when you feel the crackle of the burning leather belt again, “-Without your-” Two consecutive hits make you whimper against the pillow, but you keep going, because you know that if you stop, he will start your punishment again, “-Without your permission" you complete, panting loudly. He hits you three more times and you feel like you could come with just one touch on your clit.
“Without your permission, who?” And two more cracks of the leather against your asscheeks. The frustration of wanting to come is so great that you feel your abdomen trembling.
“Without your permission, sir!” you almost scream, desperate. So thirsty for his touch you know you’re dripping with desire and ruining the sheets.
“I don't know…” He says, as if he's thinking out loud as his hands caress your buttocks, “Do you think you deserve to come?"
“Yes please! Nando please! I want it so bad, papi…” you don't feel ashamed to beg, when your body so badly needs relief, something only he can give you.
You feel him move behind you, and a second later, his cock fills you in one movement, making you scream his name into the pillow.
“Oh, always perfect for me…” He groans, pulling out only to slam back in again. His hands secure the restraint on your wrists, your hands manage to touch his forearm and you sink your nails into his skin for balance.
Your eyes roll in your head, pleasure consuming you like flames as his hips keep pounding into you, and you feel grateful for his demanding exercises routine from motorsports, because it makes his stamina last so long. You feel hypersensitive, like you can feel the friction in every molecule in your body, the pleasure in your pussy and he just keeps going, Fernando’s groaning louder by the second.
You feel when the orgasm approaches, that tingling in your body and your pussy contracting desperately. But then he stops, withdrawing his cock. You whimper in desperation, the orgasm slipping away again.
“Fernando, please! Please, I need you…” you scream as he plunges into you, so deep he takes your breath away for an instant. One of his hands grips your hips and the other travels up your spine until it closes around the back of your neck.
Then he circles his hand around your neck and pulls you up until you're on your knees, your hips pressed against his as he thrusts harder, making your tits bounce with the movement. The only thing separating his chest from your back is the grip on your wrists between your bodies.
“Please, Nando! I’m so close- can- can I cum?”
“Go on, you can cum. I want to feel it,” he orders, squeezing your throat, obstructing your breathing slightly. It’s his accented voice that pushes you off the cliff, the orgasm finally seizing you so hard you see stars in your vision, shivering as he holds you firmly up.
Your orgasm soon makes him come too, his groan in your ear as his hips push against you, slowing down as he fills you up.
When Fernando lets go of your neck, you fall limp on the bed, face first against the pillows. You feel his fingers release you from the restraints, and your arms fall to your sides. Fernando holds your wrists, massaging lightly. He kisses your shoulder softly and you smile lazily, all worn out, the way he likes you the most.
“Are you ok, princesa?” you hear him as you close your eyes.
“Yes, cariño. Never been better.” You murmur.
You keep your eyes closed as he wipes between your legs, and you feel as he rubs the soothing ointment onto your buttocks, then he uses a makeup wiper to clean your face. Fernando considers aftercare as important as sex, and you can't deny that you love the part of being lovingly pampered by him right after being fucked senseless.
Finally, he turns off the lights, pulls back the covers and lies beside you, your naked body being fully embraced by him. You get goosebumps when he nuzzles your neck, his beard tickling and making you giggle.
“I missed you a lot, mi cielo” He mutters against your skin.
“I missed you too, Nando. I loved seeing you so happy with that podium,” you say, pulling his hand up and kissing his knuckles.
“Thank you, maybe next time you should go cheer for me,” he kisses your collarbone.
“I’ll think about it, yeah?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “maybe after finals.”
“I'm sure you'll get high scores on your tests, bebé” he whispers, and you feel a rush of joy at making him proud.
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Text
I should not be terrified of wearing my magen david out in the open at school, not when there are girls wearing hijabs and people donning crosses, both religious and not (but mostly religious.) I should not be terrified of the people wearing them and how they'll react to my symbol of religion.
Yet I still see crosses and people hijabs, but whenever I wear my necklace, I get weird looks and I'm terrified.
I should not be.
So please, please, please, do not ever say there is no anti-semitism in America. Otherwise, my counselor would've actually listened to me and not ignored what I was saying after she saw my necklace.
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girls-alias · 9 months
Text
Necklace. Robert Chase
Title: Necklace
Words: 1,265
Relations: Robert Chase X Reader
TW: Fluff.
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Context:
Y/N works in House's team, she's a good doctor, but the lines of morals are blurred and clearly has some issues which thankfully no one addresses. Chase and her have a crush on each other, everyone's favourite pastime is pointing his feelings out but she has a good enough poker face that everyone assumes it's not reciprocated.
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I sat at the glass table, legs crossed as I looked over the files that had been clearly thrown down. Foreman was already sitting at the table looking at the files puzzled. We'd exchanged greetings but fallen silent as we read. I bit down on my lip slightly as I wondered about the case, studying it to memorise as much as I could as well as to build some theories.
I didn't look up as I recognised the clacking of shoes to be Cameron's slightly heeled shoes. "Morning," I said plainly, my attention still on the file. She groaned as she took a seat beside me. I chuckled as I finally glanced at her.
"I do not want to be here today," She commented so I scoffed as I nodded. I know the feeling. Working on the team is great, House is too much sometimes but he's bearable.
"Could say that again," Foreman chimed in. I chuckled, my attention going back to the file. I was in a world of my own. Foreman and Cameron discuss the case in the background. I jumped slightly when a small, brown paper bag was placed in front of me. I looked up confused seeing Chase walking towards his seat. I looked at him confused as he placed his bag on the back of his chair. The room fell silent.
"What?" Chase asked innocently, looking at each of us wondering why we were all confused.
"What's in the bag?" Foreman asked, sitting forward trying to peak inside from across the table.
"It's just a little gift," Chase shrugged moving away to go to the counter and start making himself a coffee. Foreman looked completely perplexed, I glanced at Cameron who simply shrugged. My eyebrows furrowed as I grabbed the bag from the table and put it in my lap as I reached inside. I looked in to see a small baggy, I pulled it out recognising it was a necklace. I looked at Chase confused as he focused on making his coffee. He glanced at me and widened his eyes. "Oh, do you want one?" He asked gesturing to his mug, clearly misunderstanding my confusion.
"Why did you get me a necklace?" I asked but he shrugged, grabbing another mug from the cupboard.
"I went to a market over the weekend and thought it would look good on you," He explained innocently. Foreman smirked as he sat back. I rolled my eyes at Foreman as I knew he was going to tease him about it. Chase isn't good at hiding that he has a crush on me, I, however, am great at hiding my crush for him. There have been times when I was close to confessing just to shut Foreman and House up about me being out of Chase's league and him not having a chance.
House entered the office abruptly with a groan. "What we got?" He asked also looking fed up with being here. I chuckled before putting the little bag with the necklace in my pocket.
"Chase got Y/L/N a necklace," Foreman announced making me sigh and roll my eyes. I saw House grinning out of the corner of my eye.
"Aww, how cute," House commented his tone matching a teenage girl pining for a guy. I rolled my eyes again as I shook my head.
"It's just a necklace," Chase sighed as he approached the table, he placed a mug of tea in front of me as he took a seat.
"And a cup of tea," House commented. Chase groaned.
"She asked for it," Chase argued but Foreman chuckled.
"No, you asked if she wanted one, she didn't reply," Foreman explained.
"Thank you, Chase. I appreciate the necklace and the tea," I commented as I grabbed the mug and took a sip. He makes the best tea.
"Not enough to wear the necklace," House commented with a grin trying to annoy me. I glared at him for being a dick.
"Can we focus on the differential?" Cameron asked clearly done with the conversation. I smiled, thankful for her change in topic.
"Yeah, Chase's pining is getting boring now. Hasn't a chance, poor guy," House commented. I rolled my eyes, once again wanting to put him in his place and make everyone well aware of my mutual pining for him.
We got on with the differential, concluding the patient needed an MRI and tox screen.
"Chase and Y/L/N, do the MRI," House instructed, I gave him a bitch face knowing he just wants us locked in a room together, it's his favourite thing to do other than taking Vicodin. I rolled my eyes as I got up and we all began leaving the office, "No sleeping together in the box," House called after us. I put my finger up at him as I passed the glass walls. He was grinning widely, clearly amusing himself. Chase followed me as we made our way to the patient's room.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have given it to you in front of them," He expressed as he pushed his hair out of his face.
"You don't have to apologise for their behaviour but why did you get me the necklace?" I asked, looking at him as we waited for the elevator. He seemed a little awkward.
"I saw it and thought of you," He shrugged innocently. I smiled.
"Thank you, I can't wait to have a look at it," I grinned before walking into the elevator as the doors opened. I watched as Chase smirked slightly as he walked in. He's adorable! We focused on the case as we introduced ourselves to the patient and got them prepped for the MRI. Chase had just finished setting them up when he came into the observation room to join me. We set the machine off and sat a little silent. The MRI is a long process so we're going to be here a while.
I took the small baggy from my pocket, Chase must have noticed my movement out of the corner of his eye as he looked at me, watching my movements. He seemed a little awkward as to where to look. I pulled the drawstring bag open and grabbed the chain, I pulled the necklace out of the bag and smiled brightly. On the silver chain was a handmade (Favourite Colour) gem held on the necklace with metal strips twisted around it. I looked at Chase happily, admiring him as he smiled at me.
"I love it, thank you," I expressed as I opened the clasp to put it on. Chase quickly stood from his chair, I smiled as I stood up recognising that he was wanting to put it on me. I handed him the open necklace and moved my hair out of the way once he had passed the necklace over my head. I grinned as I waited. He fastened the necklace, and I could feel his breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. He lowered the chain so it sat on my neck. His fingers lingered on my skin making both of our breath quicken a little. I let my hair down and touched the gem as I turned around to smile at Chase as he looked at me deeply. My smile widened as I leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you," I added before smiling innocently and moving to sit back down.
Chase stayed stood for a few moments before taking his seat and tucking it in. "You're welcome," He smiled, glancing at me as I smiled at him. God, he's so cute.
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