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#the song is a little bit on the long side but i tried to make it easy to follow?
causenessus · 2 days
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love letters
part 0.05. intros
EXHIBIT TWO: RIDE OR DIE BROS FOR LIFE
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suna rintarou °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
middle blocker for the msby volleyball team and wanted to major in something art related but ended up going into athletic training with sakusa. in high school, atsumu, osamu, and him would very frequently sneak out at night usually to graffiti a wall and atsumu and him have kept up the tradition. whenever they travel to other cities to play an away game, they’ll try and find the time to go out and leave their mark on the city. in college, he started to do things like leave little snippets of lyrics from romantic songs on walls in sharpie or spray paint </3 he’s been upset with himself ever since he found out y/n has a boyfriend. he never gave her any hints of interest in high school because he didn’t feel like she knew him well enough and wasn’t confident that he would return his feelings but then never got the chance to tell her because she started dating suga. instead, he’s been finding small ways to be closer to her. although he isn’t majoring in art, he started to hang around the art department more, and would follow her around whenever she came to develop photos. she’d let him come with her into the department’s dark room and explain the process to him while he just admired her <3 eventually he started to invite her to come wander the city with him in search of street art and told her he’d start sending her photos of art that he found in other cities (which he's totally not making and then sending to her as if he just randomly stumbled upon the most heartwrenching, romantic art ever). as long as he’s with her he could care less what they're doing; to him, the real artwork is right next to him <3 she’s taking photos of something written on a wall while he’s looking at her <3
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miya atsumu & miya osamu °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
atsumu
setter for msby <3 made his bio in retaliation to his brother and then got upset when osamu didn’t care. didn’t even want to go to college but really wanted to play for msby and didn’t want to be left out of everyone else going to school so he’s chilling in communications with bokuto. loves to come to onigiri miya on days y/n works because she gives him discounts and he jokes that she’s a better cook than osamu (which psychologically, for him, is probably true. samu cooks for tsumu and curses the food while y/n tries to put at least a little bit of love into what she makes for him). at some point tried to flirt with y/n and then realized she did not love when he visited because of him but bc he would bring suna. often comes by himself to onigiri miya or brings bokuto with him to ask yn how things with suna, completely ignoring the fact that she has a boyfriend (which leaves her confused about every single life choice she's made) and then will immediately text suna being like “y/n and me are talking about u rn LL sucks to suck i bet ur wondering what she thinks of u"
osamu
always gives suna discounts when he comes and will immediately take over whatever order y/n is working on so that she can make suna’s foof <3 he’s like a double agent for both sides but doesn’t get too involved because things with suga are making it difficult. he’s definitely someone suna goes to a lot for advice and although suna tends to only come on days when y/n works, sometimes on late nights after practice when osamu is the only one left working, suna will come in and they’ll share a drink and talk about y/n and more
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bokuto koutarou & oikawa tooru °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
bokuto
wing spiker for msby and self proclaims himself as the ace <3 sakusa and him beef a little bit about it but the entire team is made up of doubles anyway so they kind of share the title. he’s matching users with atsumu and oikawa and also asked akaashi if they could have matching headers <3 akaashi sent him his current header which bokuto immediately started using <3 my guy has got so many friends and is loved by everyone so he’s actually having the best time of his life in college!!! besides when exams come around. then he’s hiding under a table and it takes the collective effort of akaashi, atsumu, and oikawa’s to get him out.
oikawa
second setter for msby! atsumu and him actually lowkey connected immediately and the team often uses a 6-2 rotation to utilize two setters and it’s been working out pretty well. other volleyball teams quiver hearing about msby’s lineup LMAO. he’s also a photography major which has led to suna often asking him how y/n is doing <3 does a lot of portraits and posts his works on a separate photography account. has started to join atsumu and suna when they sneak out while on away games to find somewhere to leave a piece of art.
extras <3
suna, atsumu, osamu, bokuto, and oikawa all live together
it is either very peaceful or a living hell
atsumu and bokuto will get riled up about something together and start having an energetic burst while suna isolates in his room (or more often is slipping out to go hang with y/n)
oikawa’s pretty chill and is in his actually-studying-for-exams era
osamu’s usually busy at work
so it’s peaceful (according to their definition) when not everyone is home but sometimes atsumu will start beefing with osamu about something and shit hits the fan
suna is heavily heavily heavily inspired by this guy named @/greg_goya on instagram
when i had this idea for street art i really spent an hour on instagram and google combined looking for this guy bc the art he does is totally what i was going for
and when i say inspired i mean suna is literally greg goya. i will probably use screen shots from my man greg in this smau so ty to him in advance he's a king 👑
both "exhibits" or friend groups are lowkey one big friend group but there's a small natural divide bc most of the ride or die bros are from inarizaki and some of them (cough atsumu cough bokuto cough suna if he didn't want to be around y/n 24/7 cough) said that they NEEDED a bros only gc
taglist: @wyrcan @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @0moonii @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @bluebeanbee @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 (form to be added to taglist! <3)
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scorchrend · 4 months
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check it out. a boss theme just dropped 😁😁
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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month
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✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star Part 1: Kiss Me at Coachella✨
Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!
Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.
Word Count: 8.1k
Rating: 18+ Only MDNI
Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going. 
   You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could. 
   You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter. 
   You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard. 
   He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now. 
   He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.
   You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.
   He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy. 
   He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked. 
   The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names. 
   The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage. 
   Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage. 
   Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like. 
   “You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.
   “Yeah, you think so?” 
   “Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water. 
   “Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water. 
   His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.
   You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him. 
   Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.
   “So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 
   “Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks. 
   “Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile. 
   “Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”
   “You don’t want a night off though?”
   He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you. 
   Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall. 
   “Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder. 
   “Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.
   Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”
   Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip. 
   “Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy. 
   You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you. 
   You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”
   You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”
   Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices. 
   You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety. 
   “Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back. 
   You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer. 
   Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole. 
   “You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state. 
   “I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head. 
   “Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer. 
   “Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest. 
   “Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven.��
   “Joel?” you call before you close the door. 
   “Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes. 
   “Go easy on them.”
   He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room. 
   You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh. 
   “Attagirl,” he chuckles. 
   Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears. 
   When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer. 
   You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places. 
   You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top. 
   “Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights. 
   You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…
   You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need. 
   “Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”
   You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way. 
   You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”
   His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep. 
   “Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes. 
   “Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”
   “No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin. 
   “No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt. 
   “I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”
   He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way. 
   “‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room. 
   “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him. 
   He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours. 
   “Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand. 
   After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress. 
   He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin. 
   He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine. 
   You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back. 
   He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder. 
   You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip. 
   He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body. 
   He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too? 
   He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers. 
   He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to. 
   You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.
   He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips. 
   “Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat. 
   “I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans. 
   “I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans. 
   He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips. 
   “I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”
   He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”
   You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts. 
   “God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”
   You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress. 
   “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress. 
   “Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts. 
   “Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck. 
   “Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights. 
   “Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.
   He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”
   He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers. 
   He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you. 
   “Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts. 
   “I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”
   Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.
   His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs. 
   He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights. 
   “I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath. 
   He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”
   You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips. 
   You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately. 
   “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you. 
   He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain. 
   “Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”
   “Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs. 
   “All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”
   He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already. 
   He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before. 
   “Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you. 
   He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center. 
   “Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers. 
   “So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles. 
   “Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs. 
   You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat. 
   You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise. 
   You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started. 
   “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”
   He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide. 
   He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.
   He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body. 
   He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans. 
   He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life. 
   He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm. 
   “Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue. 
   He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his. 
   “Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body. 
   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.
   “Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core. 
   “Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground. 
   He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy. 
   “Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him. 
   “Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy. 
   He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you. 
   The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically. 
   “Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth. 
   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body. 
   “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes. 
   He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock. 
   “Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you. 
   Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”
   “Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg. 
   He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own. 
   He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven. 
   Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his. 
   You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now. 
   “Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes. 
   “Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss. 
   “Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly. 
   “All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”
   You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”
   “I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow. 
   You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public? 
   You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?” 
   “I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”
   You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”
   He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”
   “Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”
   He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”
   “I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”
   He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine. 
   “Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest. 
   “Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”
   Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”
   “Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”
   “And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle. 
   “Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”
   You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms. 
   This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper. 
Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal
@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy
@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn
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miguelhugger2099 · 29 days
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Just a silly little request👉👈
Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭
Just One Touch
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a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(
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It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.
You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.
Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.
“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits.  “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.
You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.
“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.
“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.
“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.
“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.
He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.
You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.
“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.
“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.
“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.
“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.
Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.
You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.
He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.
His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.
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Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.
So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.
His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.
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heesdreamer · 11 months
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Forgotten Consequences
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)
SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences
WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive
WC ➩ 5.7k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece
“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”
You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.
Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.
“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.
Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.
He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.
It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.
Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.
He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.
You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.
When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.
A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.
They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.
But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.
You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.
“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.
You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.
“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.
You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.
“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.
Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.
“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”
You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.
You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.
He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.
Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.
“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.
You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.
He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.
His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.
“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.
He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.
It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.
“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”
Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.
It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.
“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.
You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.
He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.
It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.
“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.
Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.
He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.
It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.
Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.
“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.
His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.
“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”
You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.
He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.
“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.
“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.
“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.
You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.
“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”
He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.
Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.
He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.
“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”
You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”
His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.
“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”
“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”
He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.
It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.
Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.
“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.
“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.
You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.
“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”
You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.
It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.
“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.
His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.
“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”
You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.
He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.
“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”
Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.
“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.
“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”
“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”
You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.
You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.
“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.
“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.
He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.
Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.
“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”
“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”
You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.
He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.
“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”
You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.
“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.
He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.
The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.
You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.
He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.
“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.
“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.
You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.
He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.
“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”
You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.
He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.
It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.
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welcometomyoasis · 5 months
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Seventeen's reaction to their s/o being in the same variety show as them
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Synopsis: When your relationship isn’t public, how would seventeen react when you, their idol s/o, appears in the same variety show as them? Idol! Svt x idol gn! reader | idol au, fluff | 1.1k words | warnings: unsolicited comments | requested by anon A/n: honestly the svt members are already chaotic social butterflies so their behaviour wouldn’t really change? But the heart eyes would be real. Also, thank you anon for requesting my first idol au!! I actually really like idol aus and will prob write more at some point!
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Member exe. has stopped working
Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Dokyeom, Mingyu
☘︎ Why are you going to the same variety show as him? Do you want him to combust on the spot? He knows you can’t control which shows your group goes to for promotions, but this is such bad news for them. Sure he loves watching you in your element, talking about your group, the new songs you’ve released, dancing with that passion that he fell in love with. The thing is he loves watching you a bit too much. 
☘︎ During the show, his brain just stops working. Who cares about professionalism? He wants to admire the masterpiece that is you. He’s going to shoot out so many heart eyes at you. He watches with a look that says he is completely enamoured or smitten with you. He is in awe. He definitely would not be able to keep the goofy smile off his face. His mind goes blank. Of course, he would cheer for you as well. Loudly. Very very loudly. He’s just so proud of you. If he was feeling a bit daring, he might even post a selfie that you both took backstage. 
☘︎ The hosts might make a comment or two about how he’s falling in love with you. As long as it’s harmless jabs, you’re both usually okay with it though other members might try to steer the conversation away just to be safe. Still, he’s so obvious that his behaviour towards you is hard to ignore. The comments from the viewers would be full of things like “i want someone to look at me the same way he looks at y/n” or “he’s so in love with y/n i cannot” or “what’s going on in his brain?”
☘︎ Surprisingly, I don’t actually think that there would be much speculation about whether you both are dating. These members can somehow brush off their lovestruck behaviour with a smile. It’s just that these 4 members do always stop functioning at some point anyway? Their chaotic, mindless behaviour and cheering really isn’t that out of the ordinary when you think about it. They might become the butt of some jokes for a while but I feel like this whole thing would pass quickly enough. I guess it pays to be some of the most chaotic members? 
Is there something going on?
Woozi, Junhui, Wonwoo, Dino 
☘︎ Oh these members are in trouble. Unlike those in the previous group, these 4 have rather predictable behaviour when they are on variety shows. Woozi would participate in all the games and discussions but he isn’t the most outgoing. Dino is just Dinoing? Like he’s the baby of the group but he acts very maturely when he’s on variety shows. Junhui and Wonwoo tend to be on the quieter side. 
☘︎ So, when you show up on the same variety show, their behaviour is just too different. Woozi, Junhui and Wonwoo would participate and be much more enthusiastic. Even if they aren’t cheering loudly, they would stare at you with pride and adoration in the same way that they would stare at the rest of the svt members. They also would not hesitate to talk to you or interact with you during the discussion portions of the show. 
☘︎ With Dino, I do see him turning to become more whiny or acting a little less maturely to some extent? He might even instinctively turn towards you when his members tease him, as if he’s seeking reassurance or refuge. Or even if he tries to act the same, he will frequently sneak not so subtle glances at you like a school boy in love. 
☘︎ It’s the freedom and comfort that is seen in your interactions and their behaviour towards you that would definitely make people question if there is something going on? The behaviour would go viral with viewers being split between “he’s just having a weird off day which happens” or “oh they are definitely dating, if not he likes y/n”. Both your weverse lives and social media posts would have so many comments asking about your relationship. The speculation would go around for a while and these members won’t be able to shake the rumours off for a while.
Business as usual
Jeonghan, Joshua, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon
☘︎ Of course he’s excited that you will be going on the same variety show as him! He loves watching you but unlike the members in the previous two points, he knows how to hide his reactions better. He’s a professional about it. His opinion is that the best course of action is to act like himself. That way nothing seems out of the ordinary. 
☘︎ Jeonghan will be cheeky as always (no one is spared from his cheating and tricks, not even you). Joshua smiles adoringly at everyone and is a gentleman so he gets a free pass either way. Minghao might be a little more quiet than normal but I see people brushing it off because Minghao isn’t the most outgoing member on variety shows. Seungkwan is a professional host anyway so his interactions with you would appear normal (although his tone and gaze might be a bit softer). Vernon… is just Vernon. He stares blankly, interacts with others normally, and takes frequent sips of water. Whether or not his gaze is fixed on you or not, no one can tell. 
☘︎ On the inside though, he’s squealing at how good you look, how cool you look, how adorable you are. He makes a mental note to give you extra hugs and affection later because watching you makes him fall in love with you all over again. He loves you so much, but at this point when you both aren’t comfortable publicising your relationship, he will do everything in his power to remain professional. He knows you are doing the same. You both want to keep your relationship out of the public eye and the unsolicited comments that come along with it. So for now, he’s content with showering you in love in private. 
☘︎ And just say that he slips up slightly, or if the hosts/ viewers makes any unsolicited comments about the two of you possibly being in a relationship, he will brush them off by saying he’s just being supportive of his fellow idols. He will be very firm about it, and he would make sure that they know not to try and pry into your private lives further. 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee
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ma1dita · 5 months
Text
bedtime stories
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift
a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe
(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)
Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.
Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.
It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.
A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.
Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.
“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”
“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.
“You always pin campers to trees?”
“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.
“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”
Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.
“You’re always doing the most, huh?”
“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.
“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.
“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”
“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.
He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.
Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.
Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.
As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.
Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.
“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”
The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.
“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?
“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”
She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”
Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”
Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.
“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”
“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.
“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”
“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.
“Hey! Jerk.”
“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.
“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”
A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.
“And vulgar! What a shocker.”
“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”
Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.
“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”
A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.
Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.
“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.
“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.
“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.
“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”
You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.
Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.
Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.
“Sweet dreams, angelface.”
Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.
It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.
You’d never admit that, though.
“you steady me and stir me
all at once.”
-Tanya Wright
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luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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azrielhours · 6 months
Text
Our Marriage Bed
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 5k
Synopsis: Azriel is slowly going insane wanting you, having difficulty differentiating between dreams and wakefulness. One night his dream carries over and he tries to get it on with you.
Warnings: Slightly darker sexual themes. Unclear beginning/end of wakefulness. Light choking, rough sex. Azzy being mean.
a/n: dedicated to my darling @tadpolesonalgae. Can be read alone, but part 2 to Company of Phantoms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Azriel couldn’t recall the last time in his five centuries he felt this much raw contentment. He was sitting in your room, waiting. Since that night you’d invited him to share your bed, a door had been opened. A friendship, he supposed, though friendship was a pathetic encapsulation for the trove of feelings he kept barely buried beneath the surface. The more nights he spent with you, the more the lines blurred between the boundaries of this arrangement. As did the boundaries of his sanity, but who was he to complain when he got to sleep in your arms night after night?
He basked in your space, illuminated by a warm glow. Your scent lingered in the sheets. Your books spilling secrets of your intellect on the shelves. Your music taste contained in the Symphonia on your dresser. Little pockets of you for Azriel to satiate himself with.
Azriel caught himself nodding off on the bed when the doorknob turned, and he straightened. Wordlessly, you walked right to him, a privilege he was yet to grow accustomed to. “Y/N,” he breathed as you sat right before him. You brought your hand to his chest, running it down his sternum, catching the skip in his heart. Azriel felt his last dregs of tiredness dissipate. Were you about to kiss him?
“Y/N—”
“Azriel,” you purred like a song.
He couldn’t breathe as your lips grazed his cheek, trailing to the corner of his mouth.
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“I have to tell you something.” Again, that dreamy drawl. He swallowed, waiting. But you only moved to trail your lips to his other cheek, shifting closer so your breasts pressed against his chest. Traced your mouth to his ear, letting your breath fan across his ear. There, you only whispered, Azriel.
Azriel. 
“Azriel?”
Azriel snapped awake.
Fuck.
You stood next to him—next to the armchair, where he’d—
He looked around. Not in your bed. His cheeks heated. You hadn’t been—touching him, hadn’t tried to—
“Sorry for taking so long,” you spoke softly. Not in that echoey chant.
“That’s okay,” he said. Just a dream.
You only smiled sweetly at him. “Did you want to sleep here again, baby?”
Baby. God, you were killing him.
Azriel only nodded. You bit your lip apprehensively. How you managed to call him pet names and sleep next to him but still blush at the suggestion had him huffing a laugh. He reached out, gently clasping your forearms, tugging you down. You gasped, bracing your hands on his chest, landing into his lap. Azriel bit back his twin surprise at his brazenness, but when you leaned closer, he relaxed into the indulgence.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders. Azriel buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Missed you,” he mumbled.
“I missed you too, Azzy.”
Azriel knew he was growing too reliant on you—could feel his discipline crumbling more each day he got to have you while not quite having you.
You gently pulled your arms back over his shoulders to leverage yourself off his chest, and Azriel loosened his grip around your waist, happy to lazily hold you. He watched you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, and Azriel copied you, making you laugh.
“Let’s go to bed,” you said. “You already fell asleep.”
Azriel shook his head. “I wasn’t.”
You rolled your eyes, hauling off his lap. “I saw you, Az.”
He stood, letting you pull him to bed. “I saw you,” he murmured. You’d touched his chest the same way then, too. In dream and wake.
You gave a confused laugh, shaking your head, pulling the sheets back with one hand while he held your other. The words marriage bed crossed his mind before he suppressed the thought.
Once you’d both settled in, Azriel reached for your hand beneath the sheets, feeling his drowsiness return. He focused on the sensation of your gentle strokes across his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
“Hm?”
“You said you had to tell me something,” he muttered.
“No, baby, I don’t think I did.”
He wasn’t sure why you’d change your mind so quickly. He knew he was asking too much of you, but he could not bear to pull back. “Can I touch you?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
Azriel snaked his arm beneath your shoulders, hauling you to his chest. “This okay?”
“Yes, honey,” you breathed, eyes closed. “Take whatever you want.”
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Mhm.”
“Now I can’t sleep without you,” he whispered, stroking down your arms.
You only huffed a sleepy laugh.
“Look what you’ve done to me.”
“Sorry, Azzy,” you mumbled. He could feel your soft smile against his collarbones.
Azriel savoured your warmth, pressing you even tighter against him. It was never enough. He always wanted more of you.
You twitched in your sleep, prompting him to soothe down your arms. But instead of settling down, you suddenly pushed your body more firmly against his. Azriel’s mind quieted fully when you extended a leg across his hips. He itched to trace the soft skin of your thighs. But it felt—it was too much, wasn’t it?
You’d told him to take what he wanted—invited him to share your bed each night, but surely, he shouldn’t—
You sighed in your sleep, a pretty sound. But you were suddenly moving again. Tracing a hand up and down his chest. Up to his throat, dragging your fingernails gently down the column, bringing Azriel fully into alertness again.
The leg thrown across his middle stretched further forward as you slowly dragged yourself atop him. He braced his hands on your hips as you seated yourself on his lap Were you—was this—
“Y/N?” he whispered.
“Azriel,” you sighed.
“Yes?” he breathed. He’d take anything you gave. He’d been right about earlier—you’d wanted him.
“I have to tell you something,” you whispered.
Your knees bracketed either side of his waist, pressing your hips more firmly to his own. Balancing your hands on his lower abdomen, Azriel’s breath hitched.
You ground down against him. Once, then stilled. It was enough for Azriel to feel blood coursing where your bodies met. Then, again. A delicate drag of your core against him. He couldn’t help the glide of his hands from your hips to your thighs, where the fabric of your nightgown had exposed them for his pleasure.
He clasped the underside of your thighs, revelled in the movement as you dragged yourself a third time against his growing hardness. Azriel groaned.
You were straddling him perfectly. You fit perfectly. He remained still, watching to see what you’d do next—prayed there’d be a next.
Lust clouded his brain, making it hard to lay still beneath you as you stared down at him. He wanted nothing more than to grind you against him again, to bury himself inside you.
You only stroked your hands up his torso as you bent over him languidly, arching onto his torso to pepper kisses along his jaw. Your breasts pressed firmly against him. When you moved your hips against his again, kissing his neck, he turned to whisper in your ear. “You’ll give me what I want?”
“Yes, Azriel.”
He let himself grind up against you. “Anything I want?”
“Anything,” you breathed. He could hear the smile on your lips. When you made him groan again, you giggled, a wicked sound. You kissed your way to his mouth, but before reaching his lips, you lifted off his chest, returning to your previous straddle. You smiled down at the panting mess you’d made of him. “I wanted to tell you something,” you murmured airily.
Right.
“Tell me, pretty girl,” he rasped, stroking up and down your thighs.
You leaned back down, and against his lips, you whispered. “Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to make me your bride.”
Azriel wholly stilled.
You only grazed your lips against his. “Make me your bride.”
He couldn’t breathe.
“Azriel.”
Azriel.
“Azriel?”
He blinked.
You’d moved off his lap, still hovering over him, a hand on his chest. The air was suddenly colder, seemingly darker than a moment ago.
How did you get off him so fast?
Too far away.
He was still panting, but you were taking him in with a calmer reception. Azriel sat up to meet you where you were, hands immediately going to your waist, tugging you firmly to his chest. You gasped, bracing your hands against his shoulders.
He kissed the smooth warmth of your neck, felt your pulse quicken beneath his lips.
“Azriel,” you breathed. He only grunted in response. You wanted him, and that was all he wanted. He thoroughly enjoyed the high-pitched tone he put in your voice. “Azzy.”
“Yes.” He kept kissing your neck, making his way to your shoulders, your collarbones.
“Did—did you have another nightmare?”
“No, baby, I didn’t,” he spoke against your skin. Even softer than it was a moment ago. Warmer, somehow. He continued his path, memorizing the hitch in your breath.
“Azzy,” you spoke again, stroking gently down his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.”
You said nothing but didn’t stop your gentle caress down his arms.
“You said I can take what I want,” he ground out.
“Yes, honey, but—”
“I want to give you what you asked for,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
Azriel lifted onto his knees, caging your body. He turned you, guiding you to lay beneath him. You looked so beautiful, hair fanned out on the pillow, staring up at him. “To make you my bride,” he said, voice guttural. He braced his hands on either side of your head, and you widened your legs for him to cushion himself against you.
Again, you said nothing, so he leaned forward.
You quickly rested your hands tenderly against his face, stroking his cheekbones. But when he leaned down to kiss you, you turned your head to the side. He kissed your cheeks, trailing closer to your mouth. “You want to be my bride, pretty girl?”
When he raised his head to look at you, your eyes had fallen shut, brows pinching. Your lips parted as you breathed harder. You were being oddly quiet.
Azriel waited a beat. “Say you want me.”
Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze again.
“You want to be my bride,” he breathed.
You slowly retracted your hands from his face. He watched your throat work a delicate swallow, your eyes searching his as he waited. “Is that—what I wanted to tell you?” you spoke gently. Not that wicked reverberation.
Azriel stilled.
Oh.
There was—no, there was no way. It’d been so clear.
He’d felt you. Felt how much you wanted him.
God, he was going crazy.
“…yes,” he whispered. It was what you wanted, what he wanted, you’d said it so clearly, he’d been awake, he was sure—
“Azzy,” you spoke again with that devastating gentleness.
“Y/N,” he rasped. He didn’t like the desperate edge in his voice.
“Baby,” you said, that enduring softness both soothing and hurting. He let himself stay where he was, resting on your frame, basking in your softness, knowing it would soon end. You searched his eyes, the restless pleading in them broke your heart.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Shit. He’d put his hands on your body, lay between your parted legs. Tried to kiss you.
Asked you to be his bride.
“I’m sorry.” He began moving off you, even as you rose with him. “I didn’t—I just thought—”
“Azzy, it’s okay,” you soothed. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you followed as he exhaled deeply. “Your dreams—it’s not your fault. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”
Azriel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
You cooed, wrapping your arms around his bicep. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll figure it out. I think you just need to rest.” You tugged, trying to pull him back to the pillows.
Azriel met your gaze again. “You still want me here?”
You frowned. “Of course I do.”
He searched your eyes for hesitation. Surely, he should leave, should keep himself from you. But you looked so lovely, beckoning him to sleep. No echoes, no siren mirth. Just honest eyes.
If he were better, if he were saner, he’d get up and leave. Would never risk your comfort—your body—in the state he was in. He was shocked at his inclination to stay.
He rose, let you pull the sheets back for him, and lay beside you. He knew shame would meet him in the daylight. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d revealed to you. He closed his eyes, and when you curled your body against his arm, he let himself savour it with every selfish drop of blood in him.
Perhaps this would be the last night he got this gift. He was perfectly content with not sleeping, lest he miss the feeling of sharing your bed this final time. Lest he fall back into his mania.
Azriel decided he’d choose in the morning whether this could carry on. For now, he’d lay next to you. Restless and haunted.
Baiting love and baiting sanity.
~
“Azzy, c’mere,” you murmured. You stood with your back to him in an open field, staring at something on the ground. Azriel approached you, took your extended hand to stand beside you. 
Before the both of you lay a large square plot in the earth. 
A grave.
Azriel turned to face you. Your eyes were cloudy, but you smiled up at him. “Our marriage bed.”
~
Azriel shot awake.
He’d let his feelings turn into something decaying and poisonous. Still, he didn’t know if he could muster the strength to walk away from you.
He turned in the dimness of the morning to see you and halted.
You were gone.
Dread pooled in his stomach, ice tightened his shoulders.
You’d left.
He shouldn’t be surprised, yet he remained frozen, aching. He let his head fall into his hands.
He’d scared you away. Surely.
He’d…he’d make sure you were okay, and then… that would be it. He’d withdraw.
Azriel got ready haphazardly, scrubbing his face in the sink, throwing on yesterday’s clothing. He raced downstairs, running immediately into Cassian, making him stumble.
“Mother’s tits, Az. What’s the matter?”
“Y/N. Have you seen her?”
Cassian was immediately alert. “Why? Is she alright?”
“She’s fine,” Rhys cut in, emerging from the kitchen.
“Where is she?” Azriel demanded, taking a step towards the High Lord.
Rhys surveyed him, and Azriel didn’t like the placating look on his face. “She went to run an errand. Nothing to worry about.”
“What errand, Rhys?”
Rhys stepped closer and placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. Had you told Rhys what’d happened the night before? “Az, maybe you should… ease up.”
“Ease up?”
“Yeah. Take a breath. She’s okay. I’d never let anything happen to her.”
“You keep hogging her all to yourself, Az,” Cassian joked. “We had to send her away.”
Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt at lightening the mood. “Why’s she away, Rhys?”
“She needed to do something.”
“And she… asked you for help?” That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.
“I just happened to be awake,” Rhys said gently.
Azriel was stunned silent for a beat as his brothers took him in.
“C’mon Az. Let’s go work off the stress in the ring. It’s been a while,” Cassian offered. Azriel still held Rhys’s assessing gaze. Like he could see straight into Azriel’s weary soul. He broke his gaze to meet Cassian’s. His brothers must think he was truly losing it.
“Okay, Cass.”
Rhys nodded in approval, satisfied. “She’ll be back soon.”
~
“Azriel,” you called.
You shifted, bracing yourself on his frame where he lay, somewhere cold and final. Azriel immediately supported you as you put more of your weight on him. He didn’t dare move as you leaned down to kiss his cheeks.
It was dark—you must’ve come to bed. He gently grasped your forearms where they were braced on his chest, lest you slip away again. “Where’ve you been?”
“I left.”
“Why?” his voice faltered.
“You didn’t make me yours,” you murmured.
“But I want to,” he tried rising, but you pushed him back down into the cold beneath.
You met his hazy gaze. “If this is how it’ll be, you’ll only find me in our marriage bed.”
His heart dropped to his stomach. No.
“Yes.
In the companion plot you’d dug to rot in the ground together. “It’s not safe there.”
“Here,” you corrected, kissing his eyelids. Though your eyes were unkind, you only peppered kisses along his jaw. “You don’t listen, Azriel.”
He focused on receiving your affection, ignoring the sharp discomfort inching up his spine. Stone digging into his flesh.
“Azriel. Are you listening?” As you shifted, dirt collected on his legs.
“I am,” he closed his eyes, smelling the musk of the earth.
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
Azriel.
“Azriel,” you spoke. Gently this time.
Kindly.
He opened his eyes.
You leaned over him not in a tomb but in his bed. It was indeed dark, but there was no finality to be found here. Not when he met your gaze, filled with concern and gentleness. No punishing scowls nor reprimand. No asphyxiation imposed on his ribcage.
“Y/N,” he rose immediately. He’d spent the day searching for you. After sparring, he’d taken off, searched the River House. The city. Asked around for you to no avail.
He’d returned to the House of Wind as the sun set, defeated. He didn’t think sleep would find him in your absence. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—my dreams, they’ve been—” disturbing. Uncanny— “they—I don’t know when they start, or if I’m awake—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off with the softness in your tone he ached for. You placed a soothing hand on his arm. “After—um, last night, I asked Rhys if I could talk to Madja.”
Oh.
“I know you spent a while having sleepless nights,” you continued. “I thought—maybe the unsettling dreams you’ve been having are a result. So I had Madja make a tonic to help.” You held up a vial full of sloshing liquid.
“A sleeping aid?”
“Not exactly,” you shook your head. “This is to give you dreamless sleep. So you can have an easier time differentiating.”
Azriel was speechless. “Thank you,” he managed.
You nodded, offering a soft smile.
Which meant— “You’re not angry with me?” he asked.
A frown pulled your brows together. “No, love, I’m not angry. I came back to the Town House after Madja finished, but you were gone.”
Oh.
“I—I didn’t know if you—I was looking for you,” he said.
“So was I,” you murmured. “When you didn’t come back to the Town House all day, I asked Mor to winnow me here.” The silence was heavy as you both sat with the clarity. There was much to address. You averted your gaze, crossing your arms.
“What is it?” Azriel asked softly.
You found his eyes with an openness that had him holding his breath. “Last night, you mentioned—you wanted me to, um—”
“It won’t happen again,” he cut in.
You shook your head. “It’s not that, I—Azriel,” you paused, voice softening even further. “You dream of marrying me?”
Azriel was rendered speechless again, but he could do nothing but nod truthfully.
You blushed but uncrossed your arms, peering shyly. “Well. I can’t say I’m entirely opposed to the notion.”
Azriel couldn’t help his smile. His relief. “Yeah?” he spoke softly, itching to reach for you.
You nodded. “I mean we should take it slow, but I’m glad—I’m glad you also—” you gestured back and forth between your bodies. “I—it’s good, Azriel,” you stammered.
He stared intently at you, searching your eyes for doubt. Finding none. He swallowed. “I can do slow.” He’d crawl on shattered glass should you ask, let alone take slow ungratefully.
Your smile deepened, and if it was possible, so did Azriel’s affection for you. You shifted closer to him, reaching for his hand, winding your fingers together. “It’s late, Azzy.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully, happy to let you take the lead.
“Wanna give that tonic a try?” you smiled sweetly.
Azriel chuckled. “Is that taking it slow?”
You laughed. “If you got other things in mind, I won’t object.”
He opened his arms to you, and you smiled, shifting forward, sitting before him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Azriel sank back into the headboard, urging you further forward. You broke away to crawl into his lap. Azriel pulled you firmly against him by your thighs, enjoying your gasp against his mouth.
Azriel tried not to let his urgency show, but it was difficult to hold back when you pressed your body so deliciously against him. He’d dreamt of your warmth against him so frequently that this felt familiar rather than uncharted. It felt correct.
So when his hardness pressed against you, he only broke off from your mouth to see what you wanted next with no apologies tumbling from his lips.
You gazed at him, wide-eyed and wanting, but didn’t remove yourself. He forced his hands to settle on your legs despite the need to pull you onto him. You bit your lip apprehensively; with your grip on his shoulders, you dragged your core against his. Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head, his head falling back against the headboard in relief.
You seized the opportunity, bending forward to kiss his jaw. He gripped your hips, guiding your movement against him, relishing the gasp you let out in your shared pleasure.
He began pulling at the laces of your gown, helping you out of it. You paused only to bare yourself, and he followed suit, tugging off his shirt.
He wanted to taste you, to mark you, to sink inside you and have his way with you. When you returned to his lap in only your skin, he didn’t know where to begin.
Azriel traced down your front, kneading your breasts, drawing more of your pretty moans, making him dizzy with need. He’d take his time another time, he decided, needing to be inside you. Needing you to be ready for that. His hands wandered down the softness of your torso, and you leaned back in his lap to watch as one of his hands braced itself on your thigh, holding it further open, the other touching you where you needed it.
You shuddered, thighs instinctively shifting to close, but he resisted. He stroked up and down your folds, spreading your slick. When he continued his teasing, you impatiently grasped his wrist, setting him where you wanted. He thumbed at your clit, massaging circles into it, causing your back to arch.
His touch was gentle but skilled, pulling an orgasm from you before you could truly sit with the pleasure. Your legs shook, chest heaving, but before you could worry about the haste of it, Azriel was unbuckling his pants, freeing himself.
Through the haze of your pleasure, your jaw fell slack at the size of him. You met his gaze, nervous suddenly. He only gauged you. “You can do it,” he rasped.
You swallowed, nodding. He seemed inclined to sit back and watch you take him, making no move to rise. Perhaps this was his way of making it less intimidating, you thought.
Azriel’s intentions were in fact less benevolent. With you finally at his mercy, falling apart in his lap and baring yourself to him after all his wanting and waiting, he was suddenly overcome with the need to feel the labour of this coupling. Not in the carnal sense—beyond the pleasure, he needed this to be stamped into your body.
He loved you, but right now he wanted you to work for your pleasure like you’d made him work for his devotion, his sanity. His patience and worry. That you asked Rhys for help this morning instead of him. That you made him lose his grip on his control so viscerally.
So he said, “Take what you want.”
You rose on shaky legs, hands braced sweetly on his shoulders as you guided yourself closer to him, legs spread on either side of his hips. You reached down, lining him up and began sinking.
At the immediate pinch between your brows, Azriel knew it hurt you, that the stretch was difficult. Yet you were trying to take it for him. You were so tight around him, so snug it had him heaving. “Good girl,” he muttered and felt you sink a little easier at that. You whimpered.
When you were halfway down on him, you paused, panting softly, meeting his gaze. The innocent pleading in them had Azriel nearly breaking his resolve. He thumbed at your clit again, moving his grip from your thighs to your hips to ease you down. When you finally sank all the way, you were shaking enough for Azriel to let up, to lean forward and kiss you. He was struggling to remain still in the wake of your vice grip, to keep himself from fucking you, but he knew you needed the reprieve.
He kissed you for as long as you needed, continued to massage pleasure back into you as you adjusted in his lap. When you finally relaxed against him, he sat back against the headboard to watch you move. With your hands still on his shoulders, you began hauling yourself up and down onto him, wincing each time he bottomed out. You felt so good around him that he could barely breathe.
You still struggled to ride him. The sheer size of him making it difficult to rise fully, and your legs were close to giving out. “Azzy,” you whimpered, pouting at him terribly.
Oh.
His sweet, lovely girl. “Aww,” he couldn’t help but coo. He frowned in disbelief at his own cruelty, making you take him all on your own like that. “I’m sorry, angel.” He gripped your thighs around your ass, taking over. You gasped as he began guiding your body up and down his length with an ease that stole your breath again. He hauled you up and let you sink down at a relaxed pace, seeing how closely you teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. “So good for me, right baby?”
“Mhm,” your eyes were falling shut, the pleasure drawing your brows together in a concentrated pinch as you let him fuck you onto him. You relaxed further into his hold, winding your hips forward and back, and he began moving faster.
One of his hands shifted to your throat, gripping it gently but firmly, making your eyes flash to his. “Say you’re mine,” he spoke lowly.   
Your hand wrapped around his wrist lovingly. “I’m yours, Azzy.” He could tell you were close again from the breathy pitch.
“My bride,” he corrected.
You gasped, shifting forward as he hit a spot deep inside that had your rhythm stuttering. “Your bride,” you panted.
“That’s fucking right,” he said, shifting forward so you fell back into the bed. With your legs open, he returned his grip to your throat and plunged inside you again, making you moan. He fucked you more firmly despite the slide of your tight entrance making it nearly difficult. You gripped his wrist with both your hands now, and when your nails dug into his skin, he knew you’d fall apart.
You gasped, mouth agape and soundless as you shuddered through your climax, clamping your legs around his tightly until they fell open again as the pleasure coiled and released. He pulled out to give you a moment to catch your breath, knowing he was being rough.
Though every bone in his body ached to cover you like a shadow, to press his skin on yours and only let up when you needed to breathe, to kiss you and show you he loved you, he rose to witness the sight of you.
Bare and spread for him.
If not for the threat of potentially scaring you off, he’d have tied your wrists to each bedpost and kept you here. All his for all time. To claim and fuck as he pleased.
You were breathing hard, shifting restlessly on the bed, waiting for him to bury himself in you. It seemed you and Azriel kept returning to the act of burial, whether earthly or bodily.
“Azriel,” you breathed, grounding him. He grasped your knees where they lay on either side of him and gently plied them further apart, bending them up to allow him to look at your swollen sex. You blushed when you realized what he was doing, turning to bury your head in the pillow, but Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away, admiring the gleam. What he did to your body. Your slick was spilling out of you. He ran his fingers through it. You flinched, still sensitive from release, but he didn’t let up, pushing his fingers into you—just needing to feel you. Your thighs shook as he did.
Azriel was harder than marble and needed to be inside you again.
He lined himself up, and before you had the chance to truly catch your breath, he was plunging again. You gasped, hands finding his chest. Azriel pushed inside, relishing the tight fit. He leaned over you, snaking his arms beneath your back. He rested his weight on his forearms where they pressed between your body and the mattress. His hands found their place on your shoulders, gripping them tightly from beneath. The position allowed him to use your frame to haul you onto his length as he pleased.
He fucked you harder than before, and there was nothing you could do but take it, mouth gaping and brows pinching at the overwhelming control he held. At the ecstasy he thrust into your body that made your head spin. At the utter power contained in his body, the ease with which he moved over you and inside you. You were encompassed by the mass of him, all corded muscles pressing into your torso and thick arms beneath you. You gripped his neck, scratching his skin, listening to the sharp slap of his hips against yours.
He was in your womb, so deep that there was a bite of pain with each thrust, but it was him and you wanted every part of him. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you stopped breathing, body tense as you tried to acclimate to it once again. Azriel rested his forehead on yours, lips brushing against yours. Not kissing you, just breathing against your mouth. You let out a choked whimper. “That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. You can take it.” You heaved air into your lungs again, surrendering to the hold he had on you, physically and whatever tugged you to him beyond. Surrendered to the pleasure, no longer resisting it even as it stunned every nerve ending.
You relaxed, rode the waves, drowned in them. “Good fucking girl,” he breathed again, feeling the shift to pliability in your body. On a baser level, he understood that you were yielding to him. You were safe with him, and you were his. The urgency in his thrusts calmed, but he shifted his hold, and wrapped his arms around your waist, slotting himself against you. He buried his face in your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
Still soft in his arms, still taking him.
He felt his release cresting but didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this to end. Your thighs were shaking around his waist. “I’m coming inside you,” he breathed into your hair, making you whimper again.
“Please, please,” you panted. He knew you were nearing your release as well, knew you likely couldn’t take more given how thorough he’d been with you. Azriel reverted to hurried movements, memorizing how he dragged against your walls. How warm and tight you were, still clamping down on him like iron, impossibly tighter as he dragged you closer. Your breathing halted again as release tore through you. You cried out, writhing against him.
The pulsating suction of your climax massaged him inside you, making him shudder. He plunged himself into you, putting all his weight into it, fucking you so deep into the mattress as your tightness crested his pleasure.
He finally stopped moving, releasing his seed deep inside you. It was the longest and hardest he’d ever come, leaving him shaking above you, panting.
You soothed shaky hands down his back, and Azriel finally eased his weight off you. Remaining buried inside you, he shifted his arms to bracket your frame, raising to look at you.
Beneath him, your eyes were droopy but bright as you watched him back. That he found sincere trust in them, that there was softness after all he’d done to you only made his chest ache. You truly did give yourself to him. “I—I don’t want to pull out,” he admitted lowly, voice hoarse.
You stroked his cheeks, hands still unsteady. “Then don’t,” you whispered. Azriel snuck an arm beneath your waist again, this time guiding you to lay on top of him as he turned to rest on his back, careful to keep himself tucked inside you. You gasped, sensitive and overstimulated, but took it patiently as he settled himself into the bed, settlling yourself against his chest. He stroked down your form against him, soothed the tremors in your arms and legs.
Whatever part of him existed before that could bear to be without you was dead. Perhaps this is the burial he’d been haunted by night after night. His immortality rebirthed with his consummated bride. He pulled the sheets over your bodies, kissing the crown of your head.
He’d learn to be with you less intensely, to want you more sanely. But not tonight—tonight, he was finally going to rest in peace, buried with you, buried inside you.
His bride in your marriage bed.
~
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scuderiahalf · 21 days
Text
brother's prejudice — max fewtrell
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pairings. max fewtrell x norris!fem!reader, lando norris x twin!fem!reader
summary. you have always been happy to support lando in any way you can but when he can't give that same support back when your relationship with his best friend is revealed, you're left wondering if your relationship with your twin brother will ever be the same. 4.2k, 18+
playlist. "idfc" by blackbear, "the heart wants what it wants" by selena gomez, "our song" by taylor swift, "it will come back" by hozier, "make me like you" by gwen stefani
warnings. lando's a bit of a dick but he makes up for it, censored oral (male receiving)
. . .
"Do you want me to suck your dick or do you want to watch Markiplier?"
"Do you want an honest answer?"
You huffed, and started to get out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower."
"No, baby, I'm just kidding."
Max grabbed hold of your hand before you even fully got to your feet. He tugged you back onto the mattress, pushed you down and hovered over you.
"You're too late. The moment is gone," you said.
"I'm sorry."
He tried to kiss you but only got your cheek when you turned your head to the side.
"Baby, don't be like that. C'mon."
He kissed your neck and your breath caught in your throat because you were just a girl. You were just a weak girl when it came to Max.
"I love you," he said into the skin of your neck.
"Hm," you pretended to consider it, "Apology accepted. Lay down, drama queen."
You pushed at Max's shoulder and he let you get on top of him. You grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand to pull your hair back with.
Max let his hands slide under your shirt—which was actually his shirt, which was why he was only in his sleep shorts at the moment. He freely let himself feel you up as you tied your hair up, squeezing your thighs and hips, your ass and up to your boobs.
"You've got to stop groping me if you want me to give you a blowjob."
"But you know how much I love groping you."
You laughed and pulled his hands out of your shirt. You intertwined your fingers with his, leaned down to kiss his nose.
"You're really making it seem like you don't want me to suck you off."
"I never said that."
You kissed the knuckles on each of Max's hands before shimmying further down the bed, pulling the blankets with you. Soon, the only sounds in the room were Max's sighs of pleasure and the lewd, wet noises coming from your mouth.
Then, someone with the spare keycard to Max's hotel room unlocked the door and entered without knocking.
"Max, mate, the plane's leaving at ten, not eleven, apparently. I tried texting you in the group chat but—what. The. Fuck."
Thank god Lando was a naturally loud individual, giving just enough time for you to sit up and wipe your mouth, for Max to pull his shorts back up. You both faced Lando with similar caught expressions, still tangled up in bed together but thankfully without your lips currently around Max’s dick.
"Are you actually kidding me? My sister? What the fuck, mate?"
You jumped in to try and defuse the situation before it escalated. "Lando, just wait a second. Let me explain—"
Lando cut you a harsh glare. "I'm not fucking talking to you. We can talk about you acting like a slag later."
You drew back, more than a little hurt at your twin's words and the tone in which he said them.
"Don't talk to her like that," Max stood up for you.
"That's really what you're worried about right now?"
"That you're calling your sister a slag? Yeah, it is."
"What the fuck is going on? You get busy with the one girl that has always been off limits and you think you're some sort of knight in shining armor?"
"Let's just all wait a second. Yeah? Let's just take a breath."
“Shut up, Y/N.”
“Lando, if you think—“
“Please don’t argue, Max—“
“He’s being a fucking dick to you, Y/N—“
“I’m being the dick? You’re shagging my sister—“
“That’s no excuse to talk to her like that—“
“It’s not like that—“
“How long has this been going on?”
“Lando, just listen—“
“Ten months.”
You close your eyes.
“TEN MONTHS!”
The flight back home was going to be a long one.
.
“You really don’t have to come.”
“Do you not want me to?”
“No, I do but… Lando is going to be there.”
“And you don’t trust him not to cause a scene?”
“I don’t know if I trust either of you not to get into a shouting match in front of our parents.”
You were already dressed and ready to go to your parents for dinner. You sat on the bathroom counter as Max finished getting ready. He was fixing his hair, the last step before he would be done, also.
You watched as the gentle, concentrated furrow in his brow deepened to one of anger. “He called you a slag, Y/N. I don’t care if he’s your brother; that’s not okay.”
“He said I was acting like a slag—“
“Same difference.”
“—and he didn’t mean it. He was just caught off guard. I did go behind his back…”
“Don’t paint him as the victim. Admittedly, we probably should have told him sooner but that doesn’t mean he gets it be a dick about it.”
Max momentarily abandoned his hair to squeeze your knee.
“You have to stop making excuses for him.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And he has always walked all over you. When was the last time he properly apologized to you for anything?"
“Max…”
This wasn’t the first time Max had brought this up and every time, you deflected or excused everything Max tried to shine a light on. Lando was Max’s best friend but he was your brother, your twin brother. You had never not known him.
Lando was integral in who you were as a person. You were made as a pair. You grew up as a pair. You had always had each other. He was your built in best friend. You always had his back, no matter what.
If you were a pushover, if you let Lando tease you and speak to you in ways you’d never let anyone else, if you tolerated things from him you that you shouldn’t, then that was your decision.
Max didn’t understand that. He didn’t seem capable of understanding the complex workings of your relationship with your twin. You would do anything for Lando, regardless of what it would mean for you, and you were fine with that.
That was how it had always been: Lando, the showman, and you, the supportive sister. Even back when you were karting together, Lando was out front and you were playing defense to protect his position.
You celebrated his victories more than you ever celebrated your own but that was fine. He was your brother and you loved him.
“Okay, fine. Whatever,” Max relented on that front. “But this is a step too far. He doesn’t get to act like a petulant little kid because I’m dating you. Calling you names and running away to Monaco when he’s meant to be filming with Quadrant. He’s being ridiculous.”
Some part of you knew the punishment of Lando ignoring you for the past month didn’t fit the crime of not telling him you were dating Max. The bigger, more conscious part of you felt like carving “traitor” into your forearm with a steak knife and hoping the pain would make your brother forgive you.
Your messages to Lando had become a wall of blue, full of apologies, begging to let you explain, attempts at striking up a conversation like normal, asking if he had meant to cancel your plane ticket to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix followed by even more apologies and then congratulations on a race well done.
You played with your fingers the whole car ride. Max reached over at one point after you had started picking at your cuticles to kiss the back of your hand and hold it the rest of the way, making idle talk that did nothing to distract you from what you were headed towards.
After Lando found you two in Max’s hotel room and the ensuing argument got heated on both of the boys’ sides, Max stayed with you for a few days. When he finally went back to his and Lando’s London flat hoping to talk things out before filming for Quadrant, Lando had cleared out.
He posted a rather passive aggressive Instagram story a few days later about “real friends” featuring some other F1 drivers all holding padel rackets. Max had not been happy when he found you torn up over it, shedding tears over the fear that you had lost your brother.
You had always been sensitive. Quick to cry, quick to care, quick to get attached, quick to get hurt. Lando poked fun at you for it your entire lives but he was also the first to jump in and defend you whenever anyone else said anything to you.
Lando’s distance over the last few weeks hurt. Like, physically hurt. You would see something that you thought he would find funny and go to text him about it just to remember he was giving you the silent treatment and your chest would hurt for the next several hours as you waited on a reply that never came.
Despite it all, when you saw Lando stood in the kitchen with your mom, the first time you had seen him in over three weeks, you couldn't help but smile.
He was halfway to returning it, as if on instinct alone. Then, he noticed Max at your back and his face fell devoid of any sort of pleased emotion. Your own smile fell, chest starting to ache again.
“Y/N darling, there you are.” Your mom came over to hug you and kiss your cheek, then did the same to Max. “And Max! Your best be treating my girl right.”
"Of course, Mrs Norris."
"Stop it with that; I've told you to call me Cisca."
"Mum knows?" Lando said. "You already told mum? Did she know before I did?"
You drew a sharp breath. It was difficult to talk to Lando when his tone was both wounded and accusatory.
"She called me not long after you boys had your spat," your mom explained, "Told me all about her and Max and I couldn't be more pleased. I always knew you fancied him, Y/N, even back in your karting days."
"Muuuum," you groaned, embarrassed even if Max already knew how long you had been crushing on him.
Max laughed and kissed your cheek. "The Shield fancied me."
"Shut up."
“The Shield” was the cringe-worthy nickname that karting media outlets had given you back in the day on account of how difficult it was to overtake you. So much of your karting career had been defense for Lando but you always felt a little victorious whenever you made a boy mad about getting beat by you simply because he couldn't get around you.
You could have gone far in racing if you hadn't quit after a single season of F4.
Lando gagged at Max's display of affection.
Max zeroed in on him, eyes sharp and mouth opening to call him out. You caught his shirt between your fingers, silently reminding him that he had promised not to start a fight. He looked mighty unhappy about it, but Max let his chest deflate and followed you into the dining room to help your other siblings set the table.
Ten minutes later, you all sat down to eat.
This was not the first time Max had dinner with your family. It had become such a common occurrence that it didn't cross any of your minds that your typical seating arrangement had your dad at one head of the table, your mom at the other, your older brother and sisters on one side, and you, Lando, and Max on the other, in that order, always with Lando between you.
Even dating Max, you didn’t think to sit next to him because that was Lando’s seat. It didn’t even cross your mind that it might not have been the best decision to sit your twin next to his best friend who had gone behind his back to date you for months without telling him but it was too late for that.
Lando was the last to sit down after going to retrieve the forgotten napkins. You considered swapping seats last minute as he hesitated over the dining room threshold, then thought better of making a scene and resigned yourself to a torturous dinner without being able to hold Max's hand through it all.
After getting caught by Lando, you had told your mom about you and Max. She had obviously clued your father in but you weren't sure which of your siblings knew the full extent of what went down when Lando found out.
Oliver and Cisca seemed oblivious enough, even if they were casting confused glances at you, Lando and, Max, trying to figure out why the three of you weren't speaking to each other. However, Flo was keeping an awfully watchful eye on your twin and boyfriend, as though waiting for the show to begin.
Table talk was casual and nearly pleasant. With Lando uncharacteristically silent beside you, and Max refusing to so much as look at his best friend, you couldn't fully enjoy spending time with your family while they were all together.
Max caught your eye behind Lando. He gave you a smile, one you couldn't quite return. Lando leaned back and got in the way of your eyeline to Max. You turned back to your food, continuing to pick at the delicious pork your mom had cooked but not able to enjoy it.
"Max, what of you?"
"Sorry?" Max was about as clueless to the conversation at hand as you were.
"Do you have plans to visit Monaco any more this year?"
They must have been talking about the trip your parents and youngest sister would be taking to Monaco during Cisca's summer break. You had planned on taking time off work to go with them, as well as with Max later in the year, closer to the end of the F1 season to attend a few races and help film some Quadrant content.
"Are you and Y/N going sometime together, possibly?"
It was a harmless enough suggestion from your mother. She probably only wanted to try and get Lando and Max to say a word to each other.
Then, despite having already agreed to house both of you later in the year, Lando said, "They haven't mentioned anything."
You really were not enjoying this dinner.
It was getting harder and harder to have all your siblings in the same place as you all got older. Only Cisca lived at home now and she was going off to uni in Manchester next year.
You missed when being with your family was easy, when you didn't even have to think about it. You missed your childhood bedroom that was now the second guest bedroom, your and Lando's bunk beds long gone.
You missed your brother terribly, even if it had only been about three and a half weeks since contact was cut. You didn't want to lose him to something like this but at the same time, you couldn't imagine letting Max go.
Max made you so happy. Couldn't Lando see that? Couldn't he see how in love you were? Couldn't he accept your and Max's relationship for the sake of not wanting to lose his twin sister and best friend?
You would do anything for Lando. You had given up so much for him. You supported him at every twist and turn of your lives. You just wanted things to be okay again.
"Y/N darling, what’s wrong?"
Your mom’s question was quiet, meant to not attract anyone’s attention. But Lando and Max were both quiet, too, in unsettling amounts from the two of them. They both looked at you just in time to see you wiping at your cheek.
"I'm fine."
Except you weren't fine. You were sad and nostalgic and sick of feeling that way and now you were all teary. You just wanted a nice dinner with your family where the two men you loved most in the world acted normal and you didn't start randomly crying at the dining table.
Lando put his hand on your arm. "Y/N/N, are you alright?"
Like his touch finally shook loose something inside you that you had been holding back since the hotel argument or maybe even longer, you rounded on your twin brother.
"No, I'm not alright! How could I be alright when you're acting like this?"
Lando immediately threw his walls back up, going on defense. "You and Max went behind my back."
"And that means you get to throw a month long hissy fit over it?"
"You've been dating for ten months!"
"It's actually eleven, now, mate."
Lando turned to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. "Shut up, Max."
"Stop being a dick, Lando! Just stop! Yes, we should have told you sooner. Yes, I'm sorry you found out like you did. But that doesn't mean you get to treat me, treat us like this."
"How am I supposed to react?"
"You're supposed to get over the initial shock and be happy that two of the people you care about are happy together."
(On the other side of the table, Cisca leaned closer to Oliver. "When did Y/N and Max start dating?"
"I think he said eleven months ago."
"That long and they haven't told us?"
Flo shushed them both. "Shut up; I'm trying to watch.")
"How am I meant to be happy about you two lying to me for the last year?" Lando demanded.
"I have been trying to apologize and talk to you about that for the last month and you haven't let me! You ran off to Monaco, ditched your Quadrant responsibilities, and left me thinking that I'd ruined things forever. That's such a dick move, Lando! Fuck—"
You were crying again. You wiped angrily at your cheeks, wanting to be taken seriously and get your point across but it was difficult when you had tears running down your face.
"You can't just ditch me like that when things get rough. It's not fair when I've been there with you through everything. I have never not supported you. I have always been there for you. I quit racing so that you wouldn't get passed over. But the second I do something you don't like, you can't give me even an ounce of support in return."
"What do you mean you quit racing so I wouldn't get passed over?"
Your chest went still, blood running cold. Shit. Shit shit shit, Lando was never meant to know about that. You had never planned on telling him. Never ever. Not even when you were old and saggy and there would be no consequences. You were meant to take that secret to the grave.
"That's not what's important. I don't understand—"
"What did you mean, Y/N?"
You gulped. "It's nothing. It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn't matter."
"Y/N."
.
"Me? You want to sign me?"
The Josef Kaufmann Racing representative grinned at your bewilderment. "Yes, you."
"No way. Are you serious?"
"Completely. It obviously won't be set in stone today and we'll need to speak with your parent or guardian but Carlin would be lucky to have you on our roster next season."
"Oh my god. No way!"
You had been worried about next season as all the 2015 series were nearing their ends and you had yet to have been scouted by any teams. Your contract with Mücke Motorsport was coming to an end after this season but now you had been offered a seat in the next level of racing, at the same team your brother was in talks with, no less.
"Oh, this is great! Lando and I will still be on the same team. You know, my brother and I have always walked about being on the same F1 team. That would be crazy, obviously, but this is just like that but on a smaller scale."
"We'd not be giving your brother a seat."
Your excitement was gone in an instant. "Sorry?"
"Lando wouldn't have the seat in Formula Renault. It would be yours, instead."
"You're offering me... my brother's seat."
"That is correct."
Just like that, you let your career die. "I don't want it, then."
The rep blinked at you. "What?"
"Give the seat to Lando. He's who you want. He's the better driver. He has always finished before me."
"He would not have if you were not defending his position. Josef Kaufmann would rather have you driving for them next year."
"I don't want the seat. Give it to Lando. I was planning on quitting racing, anyway. Sign Lando for next year. He'll do well for you."
.
"Y/N, what the actual fuck?"
You ducked your head. "Don't blow it out of proportion."
"You gave away you entire racing career at the drop of a hat because you didn't want to take a seat that I hadn't even been signed for yet? You— Why would you do that?"
"Because you're my brother."
Behind Lando, Max was staring at you, wide-eyed. All around the table, your family openly stared at you in shock, not quite able to believe the real reason you had suddenly dropped out of racing.
The reason you had given was that you had gotten bored of it. That you had only ever gotten into it because of Lando. That you didn’t want to constantly be in competition with your brother. That when Lando got famous, you didn’t want to be his lesser racing counterpart.
There may have been some truth in those excuses but the whole truth was this: you had been offered the seat Lando was negotiating for and you would not take it from him. You loved racing; you did not love it more than you loved your brother.
“Y/N, I… I honestly don’t even know what to say.”
“You could start with an apology,” Max offered.
“To both of us,” you added.
Max leaned back in his chair. “I’m good back here. Worry about me later.”
“No, she’s right,” Lando said. “I’ve been a real dick to both of you over the last few weeks. You guys didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve always had Max as my chosen best friend and you, Y/N, as my built in best friend but then you guys started getting closer. Then, I found out you’re together and it’s like, what do you need me for if you have each other?”
Any anger you may have been holding onto melted into sympathy. “Aw, Lando—“
“You are so fucking thick, mate,” Max cut in. “You think I’m going to treat my girlfriend the same way I treat your dumbass? I need a platonic best friend just as much as I need a romantic one.”
You laughed at the face Lando pulled.
“If you start referring to us as your platonic and romantic best friends, I’m fleeing to Monaco again.”
“It’s too late. It’s already started, platonic best friend.”
“Eugh, this is terrible. Go back to being awkward acquaintances, please.”
“I love her, mate. There’s no going back from that.”
You loved Max. Wholly and truly you did. How well he got along with Lando was just the icing on the cake, another thing to add onto the list of reasons you were stupidly in love with him.
Your lovesick expression must have been quite obvious because suddenly Lando was shoving your head to the side with a hand over your face.
“Oh my god, don’t look at him like that—I’m gonna barf.”
(Oliver had gone back to his food.
Cisca was still watching, confused. “Wait, so Y/N and Max have been dating for eleven months and not even Lando knew? Why?”
“Apparently, it was an oversight.”
Flo speared an asparagus. “This is better than any TV show I’ve watched all year.”
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Oliver said.
“I’m the only one enjoying this the correct amount. I’ve been waiting for Lando to stop cockblocking Y/N and Max since 2014. I am allowed to be entertained by their drama.”)
“Can we circle back to the whole quit racing because of Lando thing?” Max asked, “Because what the fuck, babe?”
“You quit racing, too!”
“Because I was burnt out, not because I would rather throw my entire career away than make my brother momentarily unhappy while other teams jumped at the opportunity to sign him up.”
“It’s fine! I mean, look at where Lando is now. Season number five of Formula One! It all worked out in the end.”
.
“Are you really okay with us being together?”
You stood outside with Lando and Max after dinner had finished up. Your parents were loading the dishwasher, Oliver was driving off down the street, and Flo was finishing up doing something with Cisca inside. The three of you were finally able to talk privately.
Lando was quiet for a while after your question. He still seemed a little hesitant but it wasn’t anywhere near how he had reacted in the hotel. He glanced down at where you were holding Max’s hand, then looked away, still thinking.
“You’re not allowed to have sex while I’m in the flat,” is what Lando eventually decided on saying.
Max, unimpressed, said, “It’s a bit late for that, mate.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands.
Lando yelled his displeasure quite loudly. Max just laughed at him, not at all apologetic.
Even if your face was burning, at least you knew things would be okay. You had your brother back. Max had his best friend back. And Lando had both of you back.
The three of you were messy and intertwined but you would be okay.
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gay-dorito-dust · 22 days
Note
Hii!
(If you’re not up for it simply ignore. I love your work and hope you’re happy and healthy and taking care of your own mental health ❤️)
The bat boys with a reader who has really low days and really just wants to be held?
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I just wanted an excuse to add Kyle Rayner as a bonus cuz I’ve been wanting to write something for him but dunno what. Plus I’ve been needing something like this after the week I’ve just had lol.
Dick would smile softly as he held you in his arms, tightening his grip on you as he peppers you in kisses however he could.
He knew that days like these were the hardest for you and he wasn’t going to hold it against you, not in the slightest as he would softly hum a song to you as he carried you to your shared bed, Hayley hot on his heels as she was worried about your change of attitude.
Speaking of Hayley, she never leaves your side, in fact when she sees Dick hold you against him , she immeditly joins in and tries to wriggle her way in between you both in hopes of covering your face in comforting licks. She wants to see you happy and she’ll gladly cuddle up with you if that’s the only way to do it.
Dick would spoil you rotten with cuddles, kisses and words of encouragement when you felt as though all hope was lost, for the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though no one had you back when he did this entire time of being together.
‘You’re amazing baby and I’m so fucking proud of you, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise you otherwise because you outshine them without having to try.’ He says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Dick would gladly make a fool of himself if it was to make you feel better but holding you, kissing you, and praising you will have to do for the meantime as he could hope that he has given you the strength needed to get out of this dark place that you’ve found yourself in.
He believes you can do it but until then he’ll gladly hold you until you could stand on your own two feet again.
Jason doesn’t need to be told twice as he was well aware of what you want the moment you came through the door of your shared bedroom.
‘Come here sweetheart.’ He would say as he sets aside his book and held out his arms for you to burrow into as you rested your head on his chest, arms latching onto his waist with an iron like grip.
He didn’t need to ask about the day you’ve had for he could feel the fatigue and weariness within your body and the deep sigh that left your lips that told him you have been holding in for a long while. Your body practically radiated with tiredness in all its forms that made it impossible for him to ignore even if he tried.
‘Rest your heavy head and your weary eyes chipmunk,’ he tells you as he begins to rub up and down your back soothingly, ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up, so just relax for me okay?’
You hummed out a small and a tad muffled ‘okay’ and Jason presses a kiss to the side of your head as he tightens his hold on you. He’d even read passages of his book to you in hopes the tit would take your mind off of things quicker as he knew how much you liked the sound of his voice.
Jason knows there’s want much he could do when you experienced days like these but all he could hope was that he was making enough of an effort to make you feel just that little bit better.
Tim makes sure he has everything you could ever need during days like these such as your favourite plushie, blanket, comfort foods, and some water just to name a few as he wants you to be comfortable and taken care of if he was to not be moving away from the bed anytime soon as he held you in his arms.
He just wants you to be okay and doesn’t want you run in on an empty stomach.
‘We’re human, we have limitations and breaking points that tell us to stop and take a break for ourselves, but yet we have been made to think that we shouldn’t and that we should neglect our health and well-being for temporary achievements and successes; almost as if that’s the only thing that should mean something to us.’ Tim tells you as he cuddles you against his chest as a movie played on his laptop as background noise.
‘You’ve done so well for yourself and now your more then deserving of a rest, we’ll return to reality in our own time, we’ve got enough of it that it shouldn’t matter whether we’re still here an hour or two later.’ Tim continues as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
And he meant it, Tim didn’t care how kind he’d have to wait for you to get better because he understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy, having had shit days where he couldn’t be bothered to bring himself to do anything other then lay in his bed, wondering to himself about what he could’ve done to feel such deep pain and isolation.
He knew that it would take time for you to feel even remotely better and even when you did you’ll still need all the help you can possibly get, and he’ll be there for as long as you’ll need him there too.
Damian isn’t well versed in the art of comforting someone but with you, suddenly he’s an expert as he lets you flop against his side as he holds you protectively.
He doesn’t trust his words enough to bring you any comfort as he wasn’t given much himself when he was growing up, so Damian instead just lets you cling onto him and watch in silence as he draws whatever in his sketchbooks: in this instance it was quick sketch of you, him and all of his pets on a field somewhere.
Damian knew his drawings were somewhat therapeutic to you as you got to watch him go through every step he took to make the perfect drawing, no matter if it was heavily detailed or less so, that and he was proud of his artwork that he doesn’t mind showing you some of his precious works and telling you the stories behind them.
Titus joins you, obviously, as he could tell something was wrong with you and will lay in your lap to provide you with some comfort until he’s fallen fast asleep, rendering it impossible for you to move but you didn’t care and neither did Damian as you were surly to follow the Great Dane into dream land where you would be laying in that field that Damian drew.
You were a lot more stronger then you let yourself believe in Damian’s eyes but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more then content in holding you in comfortable silence until you felt better, even if it was just a little bit but even then Damian was determined to outdo himself and find other ways of helping you no matter what.
He just wants to see that smile he loved so much again that told him that everything was going to be okay.
Random Bonus character: Kyle Rayner
Kyle hates seeing you so down and will do absolutely anything and everything he could even if it meant only getting a little smile out of you he’d take it wholeheartedly!
Anything was better then that distant, solemn look on your face as you stared out the window as though life didn’t look as bright or pleasant anymore as it did before.
He’d conjure up anything your heart desired if that helped even by the smallest amount, any amount of progress was better then none. Kyle just wants to see your eyes light up again with childlike wonder again, even if it was momentarily.
However he doesn’t mind if him holding you in his arms was the only way to achieve such a thing as he could keep you close and squeeze you tightly as he tries to pour everything encouraging into your ears in low hushed whispers.
‘You’ll be okay,’ Kyle begins, ‘whether that’s within days, weeks or even months, you’ll be okay. You’re not missing out on anything nor are you going about life at a slower pace compared to others, you’re going at your own pace and that’s okay, you’ll get where you need to be in due time so there’s no point in rushing yourself to get there quicker.’
Kyle would even do some silly little doodles for you just to hear you chuckle or even let out an amused huff. He’d gladly make himself look silly if it meant brining a little light to your heart and life back into your eyes.
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from-izzy · 22 days
Text
[08:52] | nct lee donghyuck | haechan
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“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.”
pairing » nct lee donghyuck (haechan) x fem!reader​
trope/au » ​established relationship au!, marriage!au, non-idol au!
genre » mildly (?; as compared to my latest one before) suggestive but mainly fluff, dad haechan and mum reader, fluffy aftercare morning, just a cute little scenario in the morning, husband haechan who loves you very much, gentle haechan who treats you well, haechan and you both get to be the little/big spoon
word count; estimated reading time » 1626; ~6 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » aftercare in the morning (continued from previous night), suggestive talk, reader wears haechan's clothes, reader has hair long enough to be tucked behind the ear, mentions of s*x; from previous night (no smut), haechan touches your lower body momentarily, abdominal cramps after s*x, (a ton of) kissing, pet names (baby girl, bubs), nicknames (hyuck), mildly (?) suggestive sentence at the end, haechan implied to be physically bigger, not proofread 😭
navi/masterlist!! 🤍
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just a small little something because exam season got me going 🤸🤸🤸🤸
i have a feeling that the next story i release is going to be a long one and is going to be quite emotional (for me at least) so this is a little 180 before that happens!
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The sun seeps through the small gaps between your curtain and the birds sing their songs too early for your liking; especially after what happened last night. Blinking your eyes open wasn’t effortful and so was satisfyingly yawning your sleep away. What your overused muscles did not like too much however was when you tried to sit up on the bed, your abdomen forcing your head to lay back on your pillow.
“Okay…” You chuckle to yourself, heat creeping onto your cheek when you remember the events of last night. A hand goes on top of your stomach, stroking your skin and remembering how someone else did the same thing to lull you back to sleep last night.
You turn your head towards that someone, an adoring smile on your face when you’re greeted with his messy morning hair and slightly gaped lips. You couldn’t help but lay on your side to admire Haechan’s features, his relaxed and light snoring making your heart beat faster. His eyelashes took your attention and you couldn’t help but brush the posterior side of your index finger along it, unfortunately stirring him into consciousness.
“Sorry,” You quickly apologised, scooting over closer to him to share some body warmth. You gently pulled his head to your chest, cradling and blocking the sun behind you from reaching him and playing with his black strands, humming a quiet song while your other hand patted his back.
Haechan satisfactorily groans at his wife’s loving touch, snuggling over to bury his nose between the pillow and the crook of your neck, “Morning, bubs.”
“Good morning, Hyuck,” pressing a kiss to the top of his hairline.
“How was your sleep?” His morning voice was still evident, deep and husky; almost like last night but in a more tame and most definitely more innocent way.
“Too good.”
You feel the smirk on your skin as Haechan leans into you to pamper kisses all over the curve of your shoulder, “Yeah?” Up towards your jawline to your chin. His tongue runs free a little bit when he reaches your bottom lip before lightly biting it. “You like that?” Asking after hearing you gasping and closing your eyes. “Baby girl, didn’t get enough action last night?”
A hand sneaks up past your waist, pulling his oversized shirt up and immediately finds its way on your lower body down to your ass. You couldn’t help but whine slightly when Haechan spread his fingers around one of your cheeks, his palm warmer than your body. He lightly grips your body, so differently from last night, and you can’t help but tilt your head down to kiss him as he reminds you of last night. 
You got lost in his lips treating yours so gently, making sure that he pours all his love into you. But as the intensity increased, you forgot about the lower body pain and your husband was alarmed by the way you pulled away suddenly, flopping over on your back with the crease between your eyebrows evident.
Haechan gives you space, backing away just enough to get a proper look at you. He props up to one elbow against the bed, a hand tucking your hair behind your ears, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head, a reassuring smile forming on your lips as soon as you see the worry in his eyes. A hand cups Haechan’s jawline, pulling him closer for a kiss. Just like before, Haechan didn’t stop giving you light reminders of his love around your face this time: the tip of your nose, forehead, eyelids and anywhere he could reach without hurting you. The hand that held your lower body moments before is now over the weighted blanket over you both, and he strokes the cotton to where your stomach is below.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, bubs.”
“You didn’t. Don’t apologise for that, Hyuck.” You immediately attempt to reassure his worries, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“You didn’t, bubs.”
But Haechan still couldn’t help but pout again and you mirror his expression more exaggeratedly in hopes of making the situation lighter; to make sure he knows that he took care of you well straight after as well and that last night shouldn’t be something he should apologise about.
“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.” A light blush spread across his face and you giggled at the way he face dived into his cushion, red and shy. “Pulling me onto your lap, letting me rest on your shoulder while you dressed me and messaging my body.” 
“Were you okay?” You heard him over the pillow, “I tried to be as gentle as possible.”
“You were super gentle with me,” You nod, acknowledging him, “Non-stop kissing me and telling me that I’m beautiful.”
Haechan turns his head to you, a slight look of confusion on his face, “I’m just stating facts though?”
A push against his shoulder and a light melodic laugh is what you give him. Haechan joins in the laughter, and his hand over your stomach begins to move, his fingers rising and falling delicately. You both just stare at each other, commuting through your eyes the upturned corners of your lips. It wouldn’t be for too long though because this time, it’s your turn to be the little spoon, imitating exactly what you did before plus the addition of his whispers of sweet nothings against your ears. You indulge yourself in his warmth and his natural scent that reminds you of safety and home. The blanket is adjusted, Haechan pulling it up just underneath your eyes and you could swear you could slumber back to sleep at this moment. 
The door clicks open then and there, Haechan’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the little one. The younger girl runs to her parent’s bed like usual but stops in her tracks when Haechan puts a palm out towards her hurriedly, “Don’t jump on the bed, little bean.”
“Why…?” Sadness laced her voice.
“Mumma is in a little bit of pain at the moment,” You peek up behind your blanket, saying a quick greeting to what Haechan would say is a mini version of you. “Come over on this side,” Tapping an empty spot on his side of the bed.
Soon, your child slumps over your husband’s figure, chin resting on his biceps as she looks over to you sadly, “Mumma, are you alright?”
“I am, baby, don’t worry.” You outstretched an arm towards your child, patting her head and successfully putting a smile on your face.
“Whoever hurts my mumma will have to go through me!”
Oh, if only she knew.
“You can’t beat, dadda, bean.” 
…oh my. 
You mentally face-palmed at the conversation unfolding before you. As your child lightly slaps your husband’s arm and asks for a reason why you’re bedridden, you can’t help but hide your face behind your blanket. You hear your husband panicking and stuttering, trying his best to go around the topic whilst also giving her a proper explanation that no, Haechan would never hurt you in that way.
“Dadda! You said you would always take care of mumma!”
“I-I do!”
“Then what is this?” She points at you, “Get away from mumma!”
You could no longer contain your laughter and it was the reason why your child stopped reprimanding her dad. Seeing you smile and laugh was the only reassurance that your child needed because she no longer gave her dad slaps and Haechan mentally thanked you for getting him out of that situation.
But seeing your child awake also reminded you of the time and the empty belly that she must have. Your mother instincts kicked in and your stomach cramp didn’t matter with her in your sight, “Alright, mumma will get up now.” 
“Hey, hey, no you’re not.” Haechan takes hold of your shoulder, grabs the corner of the blanket from the other side of the bed and pulls it to your chest. He hovers above you, heart-shaped eyes decorating his gaze on you. His arm stays there to lock you in, “I’ll take care of her. Just rest, bubs.”
“Hyuck, it’s fine.”
“No.” He curtly responded. “Stay here. I’ll take care of the little gremlin.” 
“Dadda!” So maybe it wasn’t as quiet and subtle as he thought it was. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Haechan pinches your daughter’s cheek, “Go to the kitchen. Dadda will meet you there with your favourite breakfast.” It didn’t take a second for her to jump out the bed, excited screaming and variations of ‘yay’s echoing your room, the hallway and soon, basically your whole house.
“Are you sure she’s not your mini me?” 
Haechan playfully scoffs, rolling his eyes at your question. “And what about my lovely wife? What breakfast do you want?”
“I’m not too hungry yet.” Feeling your eyelids becoming heavy once more as you exhale lightly from your lips, “I’ll make brunch later.”
Haechan hums at your thoughts and slips out from the shared blanket. The disappearance of the secure warmth and the weight of his hand on your stomach wasn’t the best but you’re aware of the parental duties that must be addressed first. As Haechan finally stands and stretches his limbs in the air, he doesn’t forget to give you a final kiss on the lips, staying there for a while, separating to look at you before planting another one.
“You shouldn’t want anything, baby girl,” Your slight eyebrow raise only made him smirk. And as you thought you would be able to go back to being sound asleep for another hour, Haechan just had to make your brain and heart go haywire, “Not with how I filled you up last night.”
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navi/masterlist!! 🤍
tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿
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eternaldecisions · 18 days
Text
MAKE YOU MINE. — Chris Sturniolo.
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₊˚⊹⋆ PAIRING. Bfb!Hockey Captain!Chris & Cheerleader!Popular!femreader.
₊˚⊹⋆ SUMMARY. No long due everyone knew who you are, the popular captain of the cheerleader team, but who also knew you, was your bestfriend’s brother, the captain of the hockey team, Christopher Sturniolo, he was pretty disputed between girls, but it wasn’t hard to make him yours, but you needed to do a lot to have him officially wrapped around your finger.
₊˚⊹⋆ WARNINGS. Cursing, mentions of parting, sorta enemies to lovers trope, mentions of sex, sexual jokes, no actual smut yet, sorta of manipulation? first part of the series.
A/N - welcome to the mym series!
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I wanna lay you down
I wanna string you out
I wanna make you mine
“So, did you hear it?” No, I didn’t the only thing I could hear was the sounds of the bell ringing for the next class, students flooding the hallways as they try to make their way to the class, you and Sarah were only leaning against the lockers, letting the zone calm down before you both could go to the classes.
“What’s the new rumor?”
“Apparently Chris and Rachel had sex last night, at John’s party.” Sarah comments, not in a too loud tone, you knew how much this school would kill to know every little gossip that circulated around the popular kids.
“Rachel!?” Exclaiming, taking a look around hoping she wasn’t around, Rachel is one of the girls that is in your cheerleader team, she never really liked you, why? because you are the captain of the team.
Yes, she tried really hard to be the chosen one, but luck wasn’t on her side that day, I guess.
“Yes, and I guess she is now going around the school telling her little victory.” Sarah sing songs the last phrase, as a light chuckle escapes her lips.
“We know how much a whore she likes to be.”
“But hey, soonly Chris will know she was telling their business to everybody, and he will cut off things with her, I just know that!” Sarah looks away for a second, her gaze taking a look around.
“Anyway, She’ll get what she deserves and-“ You’re cut off by Chris and his group entering the hallways, melodies of various laughters felling your ears.
You couldn’t deny it, Chris itself knew he was fine, and he knew it so well by the many girls in the college wanting him, but, he was a bit more reserved to himself, he never had a really serious relationship with someone, and I wonder why.
Your eyes are fixated in Chris group, giggles and smirks going straight to your direction, all you could do was roll your eyes.
"Hey!" Sarah snaps at you, reality washing over your body again.
"I said who are you most excited to see at Sam's party?"
“Uh, I don’t know, I don’t feel like going in first place.”
“You’re kidding, a party is never the same when you aren’t there!” Sarah utters, she wouldn’t believe you weren’t going, you never skipped parties, why skip this one?
Many reasons floated in your head, and one of them is Chris and his group.
FLASHBACKS.
The guys locker room, how did you get there? Being popular and smart is a really big bonus if you crave male attention, but you were just there for a particular reason.
As you had left pe you realized your friend, Waylon, had left his sweater in the bleachers, and with being a good friend, you were giving it back to him.
Walking thru the corridors, hearing different male deep voices echoing thru your ears, every little step you took it brought you close to the guys.
Silently walking, you lean against a locker, as you hear your name being used in a conversation filled with laughter.
“Yo, the cheerleader captain has to be the lame ass girl ever.”
“Yeah bro, how is she even popular?”
“People like her for her body, we all know that, but i bet once you remove her push up bra there’s nothing under it.”
Laughter & more laughter filling your ears.
You aren’t surprised, and you aren’t also shocked that mostly of the words coming out of their mouth, is from Chris friend group.
“I only know about her because she is Colby’s sister, and because she is the captain of the team, but c’mon, don’t say shit like that because you never got in her pants.” Chris comments, a smirk spreading across your face, the popular guy respecting you and putting manners into their team, he really knew how to be a man.
But no, you couldn’t like him or think about him that way, he was your brother’s best friend, plus, you both never really liked each other by you and him bikering every chance you had when he was over your house for Colby.
Footsteps creeping up in the marble black floor start coming close to your direction, dropping Waylon’s sweater on the floor and quickly making your way out of the room.
Waylon’s stepping in to the place you were, taking a good look around, grabbing his sweater off the floor, before stating.
“Weird, thought somebody was here.”
FLASHBACKS ENDED.
“There has to be something going on to you make the decision not to go!” She articulates, a silly grin spreading across her face, Sarah could read you like a book, she knew when something was off.
“My brother and his stupid friends are making comments about me in the boy’s locker room, and trust me they are bad.”
“Really? Are you skipping this event for their dumbass group? You never let yourself down and this won’t be the time, so just forget about them, and instead have fun before ending college.”
A soft smile is formed in your face, taking your gaze to the popular friend group, taking a deep breath before starting to walk off to class.
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“Okay, new season started and we know what it means, new routine started!” Your coach, Marjorie mentions, earning grunts and sighs of disappointment from your team.
Every Wednesday Afternoons there was always Cheerleader practice, the same time Chris had practice, such a coincidence for Rachel coming late to all practices that day.
“Sorry, I’m late miss!” Rachel voice is echoed, Elena and Audrey starting to whisper among them about her, nobody in your team really liked her, for a fact, everyone would call her Regina George but 10x worse.
Rachel’s neck was covered in dark hickeys, her matte lipstick smeared, her wicked grin placed in her face like no other.
And on the other side, there was Chris coach, Charles, yelling at his team like there was no tomorrow, everyone around the campus always felt that Marjorie and Charles had a little bit of connection for both being coaches, and honestly, they do have.
Wednesday’s are always the worst days for a cheerleader, principal for a captain, being the one having to lead the whole team and guide them wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t also easy 2 hours of practice.
But sure it was fun tiring Rachel.
Drinking the last sips of water in your bottle, not satisfied enough, you call it a day, packing up your things starting to leave the girls changing room.
A sigh of relief for the whole day being finished, escapes your lips, suddenly, mid way thru the dark corridor, a male figure bumps into you, looking up, your face to face, with the school finest hockey captain.
Christopher Sturniolo.
“M’bad, I didn’t see you.” He remarks, he looked more handsome then he ever was, his hair strands forming little curls, the smell of his Dior Sauvage cologne filling up your nostrils, his plumped swollen red lips begging to be kissed, and if he asked, you would smooch his whole face without a doubt.
“Sure you didn’t.”
“Aren’t you the captain of the cheerleader te-“
“Sure I am.” You didn’t give time to him finish his phrase, slightly giving attitude to him, his signature smirk started forming in his lips.
“Well I know you.” He remarks, his hand combs thru his hair, as he interlocks eyes with you, an intense eye contact being shared between you both.
“Aren’t you Rachel’s boyfriend?”
“I wouldn’t call it that, but sure.” He replied, rolling his eyes, the intense eye contact is broke by him.
“I thought you could do it better than her.”
“Why you think that?”
“I can perfectly hear your conversation with Colby, talking about the girls you would get on their pants, and I remember perfectly fine when you said Rachel wasn’t all that.” Spilling it all you heard when he was over your house, your brother and him having deep conversations about women or even who they would hook up, you had everything figured out, and you surely did share a wall with your brother.
Chris stays silent, his jaw became clenched, he gripped onto his bag with more strength each second, a chuckle escape his lips, you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“You know a lot don’t you?”
“I do.”
“You better keep that mouth shut if you don’t want me to ruin your little popular life.” He advises, the power look in your face disappears, you didn’t want look vulnerable in front of him, you didn’t want him to think you were that easy to stay weak.
“And how would you ruin-“
“You really think I don’t know what you been doing? You’ve hooked up with mostly of my team, I know what they say about you, and I know you aren’t that though girl you are in the exterior, but I do know you are as weak as much as you were in middle school.” He utters, he takes his left hand to move away your hair, having a better look of your exposed neck, his slender finger going up to your face, caressing your cheek.
“You better stay silent sweetheart.”
And with that, he begins walking away leaving you there alone, confused , was he really gonna try ruin your reputation? or was it all talk shit? thinking of the recent interaction with him, making you clench your thighs.
Was it wrong starting to fall for the popular guy in school, the one that would get all the girls he wanted like he was the prince charming?
You surely were, but you had an obstacle in your path, you just needed to ruin someone’s reputation first.
Maybe Rachel should watch her mouth and her behavior around you.
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taglist: @fawnchives @lanas-doll @mattscoquette @cannibalsclass comment if u wanna be on it!!
a/n: i had no idea how to wrap it up but i promise chapter two ill be GOOD.
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luveline · 2 months
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i love the kbd universe so so much! could you please do one where sweet little bethie (☹️) has been getting a hard time from other kids at school/nursery for being ‘weird’/‘different’ and how steve and reader would handle it?? sorry if that’s too specific my lovely! hope you’re having a good day!! 🫶
thank you!! kbd au —steve employs your help when your daughter needs a pep talk. 1.5k
“Why’s my girl so sad?” 
“I’m not sad.” 
Steve raises his brows at Beth. She looks especially like you when she’s down. It’s sort of sad, thinking about it, how her lips turn like yours would, how she won’t meet his gaze or hold his hand when he tries to intertwine their fingers. 
“Aw, honey, don’t tell me tall tales,” he says, no actual scolding in his tone. He sees the shimmer of tears aligned on her bottom lashes and can’t abide her fibs anymore, scooping her off of the couch and into his arms. “Bethieeeee,” he whines, “tell me what’s wrong! You know I hate not knowing everything about you.” 
“Dad,” she says, letting her head loll in the curve of his neck, “nothing is wrong.” 
Liar, he thinks. From the kitchen he can hear you and Dove and baby Wren singing. Avery potters around in the downstairs bathroom, humming. Steve knows Beth is sad, because Beth is quiet, but she still has as much energy as the rest of her sisters when she’s home. She isn’t introverted when she’s with him, or her mother, and especially not the best big sister in the world. 
“Okay,” he says. He should poke and prod. Instead, he lifts her up as high as he can, which, not to brag, is quite high. “Hi up there. How’s the weather?” 
She jabs him in the chest with her foot. “It’s windy.” 
Steve laughs like an idiot and brings her down for some adoring kisses. “Super windy. Babe, you get funnier and funnier everyday.”
She wraps her arms behind his head. “Thank you.” 
“Ooh, you’re welcome. Should we go and sing some songs with mommy?” 
Beth shakes her head. “No.” 
“No?” 
“No.” She sounds like a baby. 
Steve sits down with an arm behind her back. He’d quite like a bit of peace and quiet. He doesn’t mind if she needs some too. “Then let’s stay right here, bub, jus’ me and you.” 
Dustin once said that Steve was about as much use as a paper cup in a hurricane when it came to comforting people, but that was nearly a decade ago, and it was before he met you. You rushed into Steve’s life (by accident on both sides) and showed him how it felt to be properly looked after for the first time ever. He can’t forget how that felt. Robin loves him but she couldn’t love him like that, couldn’t kiss a bruise and fix it whole, couldn’t ease a migraine with her fingers in his hair. You touch Steve’s arm and he can lift a ten tonner. 
He’s more equipped than ever to comfort someone now. He had a good teacher. 
“You have a long day today, huh?” he asks. 
“Not much.” 
He smiles. “Not much long?” he asks. 
“Dad,” she grumbles. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do… so you didn’t find it too long?” 
“I guess.” Beth touches under his chin. “You have sharpies.” 
“My stubble? Should I shave tonight?” 
“Yes,” she says emphatically. “Don’t like scratchy kisses.” 
“Oh, so you wanted more kisses?” he asks. “Would that help you feel better? How about we meet in the middle and get mom to kiss you? She’s not so sharp.” 
She sighs, her nose shoved into his collar. “Dad, can you rub my back?” 
Steve rubs her back immediately. She makes no other request, lips firmly shut and secret upset sealed away, feeling at his stubble with gentle fingers. She loves foreign sensations like this. It’s why she likes having her back rubbed, Steve theories; the pressure of his hand on her spine is dragging, and grounding. 
He shifts against the grain of a cushion behind his back. 
“I want to tell you,” Bethie says finally. 
“I always want to listen,” he promises. 
She doesn’t sound teary, more uncomfortable as she finally forces it out, “Nobody at school likes me.” 
“Babe, that’s not true at all.” 
“It is true. They all think I’m weird.” 
“I bet they don’t, babe.” 
“Dad, they all say it.” 
Steve bites his cheek as his mouth snaps shut. “Well,” he says quietly, cupping the side of her face, encouraging her head back to meet her eyes. They’re big in her little face, pupils like pearls, “that’s not very nice.” 
“It’s true.” 
“Not true.” 
“It is true,” she says angrily. 
“It’s not true, Beth, you’re not weird, and if you are weird then I’m weird, and that’s not a bad thing after all. Is it?” 
Internally, it breaks his heart. Beth has been different than the other kids for a long time and in lots of ways. She’s picky, peculiar. She eats things in her own fashion, and has interests outside of her peers. Steve didn’t know she was ‘abnormal’ until people started telling him —she’s his second baby. He didn’t think they were all the same, and so didn’t question her differences, and still doesn’t care to beyond wondering what he can do to make her happy. Who cares if Beth eats two bites of sandwich for every celery stick? 
The other kids. Some parents. 
“I don’t want to be weird,” she says, hanging her head. 
You arrive like a well-timed miracle, shimmying past the half open door with a smile. “Hi, guys. I want you to come and do karaoke, what do you think? I’m making everybody mocktails! We’re having pineapple juice and–” You lean back, hand on your hip, a slip of your stomach peaking out of your tank top, total picture of a cool mom as you cross your naked arms over your stomach. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” you ask teasingly. 
Steve squeezes Beth to his neck. “Hey, none of your business!” 
“No, tell me,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside them on the couch. 
“You wanna tell her?” Steve asks. 
Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t want to tell you, dad.” 
“You did, lovely,” he says, all sympathy as you cuddle up to Steve’s side and wrap an arm around them both. “You said you wanted to tell me. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us again, though. Mommy just wants to make you feel better, right?” 
“Right,” you say. When you smile at her, it’s with all the love in the world. 
She’s quicker to cry in her mother’s lap. She wiggles closer to your shoulder, her voice fraught as she confesses, “Everybody at school says I’m weird,” and erupts into breathless sobbing, like she’s terrified of the idea. 
Your eyes wrinkle as you close them tight, frowning into the top of her head. “Oh, my poor girl. My baby. Please don’t cry, because that’s not true. You’re not weird.” 
“Everybody says I am!” 
“I’m sorry,” you say, pushing Steve away accidentally as you wrap her into a proper hug. “Who says that?” 
“Mom, it’s everyone. Even my friends.” 
Kids can be so mean, when they aren’t trying and when they are. You mumble sweet placatives, fingers running up and down the length of Beth’s shuddering back. She cries like she’s hurting. Steve’s reminded of the time she fell down the stairs and hit her face on the baby gate, she was shocked but more urgently in pain, and she couldn’t work out why she’d fallen. 
“That’s not nice, Beth,” you’re saying, “I’m so sorry they’re saying mean things about you, but you’re not weird, I don’t know why they’d say something like that. They’re just not as nice as my girl.” 
“I’m different,“ she says. 
“That’s not a bad thing, Beth. You’re perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way, and neither would your dad.”
Steve jumps in. “Right! We like you like this, babe. I don’t want you to change, I don’t care what all the meanies at school say, me and mom think you’re awesome. Avery and Dove and Wren all think you’re the best sister and best friend ever. Avery’s your best friend. Has she ever called you weird?” 
The baby talk is sinking in. If you used your bubbly voices on Avery it might not work anymore, but Beth is just about young enough for it to take. “No… You really think I’m not weird?” Beth asks sadly. 
No kid wants to think they’re weird, even if they are, and even if that’s okay. 
You sink down into your seat, taking Beth with you. Steve has to fight to cuddle you both. “I know you’re not,” you say. 
For a good five minutes, you just hug her. Steve ends up laying his cheek against your temple, hand on Beth’s back so she knows he’s there. When the baby starts babbling loudly for you to come back, Steve takes the short straw and leaves you both for cuddling. 
“What’s up, dad?” Avery asks, standing on a chair by the baby’s high chair, feeding her youngest sister cut up strawberries on a spoon. Dove eats her own strawberries with sliced bananas and peanut butter, the evidence of the latter staining her blue t-shirt.
Steve pats the top of Avery’s head. “Nothing much, baby. I’ve come to make you your mocktail.” 
“Oh, yes! With sugar? Bethie loves the sugar.” 
She doesn’t know how glad he is that she’s Beth’s big sister. “With the sugar.” 
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midnightorchids · 2 months
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I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
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Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
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charmercharm3r · 10 months
Text
Masterlist
warnings: 9th member brain rot, kissing, body image? hardly proof read don’t come for me
prev: two, next: four
☆゚
“Honestly? I hate it. I hate it a lot.”
None of your costume fittings were going well. Pants too tight, boots too big, couldn’t lift your arms or else your top would rise too high. Nothing worked. Did it at least look good? Meh.
“What’s wrong with it?” Chan asked as he stood beside you, looking at you through the practice room mirror.
“I dunno, it just… doesn’t feel right. Something…” You tried reaching around to feel the zippers and pins that held your outfit in place. Chan, ever observant, stepping to help unclip various pieces of the outfit. By the time he was done, it was a bit more revealing.
You were in the same leather pants as the rest of the group, but your top was the most modified out of everyone. A long sleeved body suite that followed the same black and white bedazzled color schemes with triangular cut outs down the shoulders and arms, rising a little too high on your hips. It was supposed to be a sexy piece, definitely not fit for a performance outfit. The stylists had it pinned to the leather pants to keep from revealing how exposing it was, saying how everything was so pretty and perfect for the concept, except this.
The pants rested a little lower on your hips, more comfortably. Chan looked at you again, “how’s that?”
You hopped and moved around, “a lot better.”
“It looks better too!” Hyunjin casually strolled into the conversation. He reached out to trace the seam that exposed your upper hips, “sexy.”
You swatted his hand away, “don’t be weird.”
“I meant it in a good way!” He threw his hands up and side stepped behind Chan and disappeared.
"If you're comfortable with it, this is much better. But it's a bit more than what you're used to showing," the older ignored Hyunjin and played with the pins in his hand.
Admiring yourself in the mirror, you realized it was a lot more than you're used to. The bodysuit was tight, which was okay because it was stretchy. But it outlined your body more than the other member's costume, therefore it stood out exponentially. "Do you think it'll be okay... y'know, in front of people?" The lowered tone of your voice, the question was shaky.
Chan paused to look at you with hints of concern, and he knew what you were talking about. He copied the hushed syntax of the conversation, "if you're worried about bad press, don't. You're part of us, like the biggest part. It's been how many years and if people can't handle that... well, that's their problem."
He lent you an encouraging smile before his attention was pulled away by a screaming Jeongin, then a thud following with Hyunjin piling on top of the younger. Chan had turned away to make sure the two were okay, and in within your lone thoughts, you figured he was right. Other people's opinions are not your problem. This was a step in the right direction.
And Chan was right, as he always is! The outfit was a smash during tour, people loved it and you felt confident. By the time the Japan tours were announced, you were ready to ask for something a bit more. Solo stages meant you were able to show more personality. You didn't have many solo projects, so it was already nerve wracking picking a song and getting help with the choreography.
The other members weren't around for your fitting with the solo stage outfit, just you and the stylist who started to enjoy your newfound excitement for experimentation. She had jumped for joy and brought out racks of different pieces, "I've waited five years for this day! It's like dress up and you're my barbie doll."
It was a large compliment coming from her, her enthusiasm made your energy spike. So you let her put you in different outfits and go over different mood boards to find what it is you wanted. The one-on-one time with her felt like turning a new leaf for your career and confidence. "I'm glad that you want to do this. I never wanted to push you to do something you're uncomfortable with, I'm so excited for you!" Aside from the usual encouragement from your members, her approval was the icing on the cake. After all, dressing people is her entire livelihood.
You hadn't given so much as a hint to the boys as to what your concept was, and it made them annoyed to no end. As they all talked about colors and themes, you kept your cards close to your chest to only let them know what you wanted them to know.
"You're being mean! Tell us! My nosy heart can't take not knowing!" Jisung pestered you the most, though you knew it came from a good place. They were all anticipating it.
When the dress rehearsal came, you put on your outfit last just so that they could all stew in their curiosity a little longer. They had all gathered on the sides of the stage to watch your run through, all of them still in their own costumes.
Your solo began with lifted from below the stage, that alone got howls from the members and also scolds from your manager to be quiet. It was hard not to glance over at them literally toppling over themselves to see your outfit up close, you laughed all throughout the run-through because of the little comments they'd make as if they were the audience.
"That's my bias!" from Jisung and a, "I'll treat you to dinner for being so cute!" from Minho.
Some other barrages of compliments later, the rehearsal intermission gave them time to rush onto the stage and tackle you to the ground. Physically dog pile on top of you so that you had no choice but to stay put. You couldn't even tell who was talking as everyone spoke at the same time. But soon enough, your manager walked over to get everyone under control once more.
Felix held out his hand for you to take and stand up. "Y/N'ie, you should've been dressing like this the entire time. You've been holding out on everyone," he teased, playing with the hem of your top.
It wasn't an outrageously different outfit to what you're used to, but also it was so brand new. An outfit made of repurposed denim in different shades, stitched together to make a halter-styled cropped top and skirt with denim arm and leg warmers to match. It was comfortable, and not to mention shorts built into the skirt.
"Just cus you said that, I'm gonna wear a track suit for the actual concert and bury this outfit in the basement," you lightly punched his arm.
"If you do, it'd be a crime against humanity. I'll have you arrested, I’ve got connections," Seungmin offhandedly mentioned. He looked indifferent, but the blush tinting his ears was a dead giveaway.
"To who? You don't talk to anyone except us," Jeongin spoke up.
"Your mom."
"Ouch," you and Felix giggle as the two youngest continued to bicker, hanging on each other's arms until it was time to finish the dress rehearsal.
Felix was always a person of comfort for you. Sort of like the baby blanket that you refused to give up because it's the one thing you know will always be there waiting for you to come home. That's not to compare him to a ratty old blanket, but more the sentiment behind it. Even after all of the praise from your members, you still found yourself looking for him to cling on to. Felix lets you, placing a hand over yours as you wrap around his arm like a vine that won't let go.
It wasn't until rehearsals were over and everyone were to change out of their outfits did you leave to let him gather his stuff. The others made jokes and poked fun, as they always did, but never Felix. Sure, he liked to tease, but even the way he did that was sweet and kind.
He could see the way you grimaced when looking at the outfit as you handed it back to the stylists for safe keeping, coming to your side unrushed as not to startle you. Wrapping an arm over your shoulder, Felix went with you to finish up small tasks before it was time to head back to the hotel.
Actually, Felix didn't leave you alone the rest of the day off, as well. He'd went with you back to your hotel room where the both of you took a short nap- you'd gone to the bathroom to find him passed out in the spare bed. Then when you woke up, it was also his idea to check out the restaurant and pool the hotel offered. You both did ask the other members if anyone wanted to join, however they were all off doing their own thing, except Hyunjin asked for you to ask him again in another hour. Something about taking a bath?
As Felix left to change into his swim suit, you silently kicked yourself for remembering to bring one in the first place. Initially, you had attempted to get out the activity by saying you didn't bring one. But then he went into your suitcase, taking everything out just to see it buried at the bottom. This was bound to happen, knowing how (affectionately) invasive all of the members are, you took caution by putting your undergarments in separate bags. Reliving the last fiasco with you in your underwear was something you avoided at all costs, now.
So now you had no choice but to go swimming, despite the sun going down and the temperature dropping.
The two of you grabbed an order of French fries and some drinks for dinner to take poolside. There was no one, thankfully. You don't think you'd be able to take your top off if there was even one other person there to see. Felix acted like this was normal. Because it should be. He's one of your best friends and has nothing but love for you, so why is this so difficult?
You've come to terms with your body and living in your skin. At least, you thought you did.
"One step at a time," the deep bass of a voice said softly over your shoulder. Felix had opened the to-go box of food and was taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables. "Let's just eat, for now."
Hesitant, you sat beside him, picking at the fries while staring at the reflective lights within the hotel. Comfortable silence besides the occasional water splashing against the concrete. "We don't have to go in," Felix offered with a sympathetic smile. "I'm just glad I got you out of your room."
"What do you mean, I always hang out with you guys when we're traveling."
"Yeah, in the hotel!" The crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled was cute. Felix is cute. "I mean going to dinner, sight seeing, doing fun things."
"I have fun! Like," you blanked for a second, grabbing a fry and shoving it in your mouth to buy some time. "Scrolling through the foreign tv channels and trying to figure out what's happening."
"You can't be serious." You shrugged and he rolled his eyes. "Well now we have to go in the pool. There is no way we are leaving when all you've done is try to find the Japanese discovery channel."
Felix stood and immediately stripped off his shirt, tossing it at your face cockily. Spitting the fabric out of your mouth, you were tempted to gag yourself with it again when you saw him shirtless. It's not like you'd never seen any of them without a top before, it's just that you always had to hide it. Felix wiggled his eyebrows at you, "how much do you love me?"
Flustered. You were flustered. "...A lot, I guess? What does that have to do w-"
"I jump, you jump kind of love?"
"What are you talking ab-"
He took off in a sprint towards the pool, quickly spinning to yell back, "You love me, so jump!" And he cannonballed into the deep end. The impact made the water splash over the edge and wet your feet. You stood to peer into the water where you could see his blonde hair bobbing before breaking the surface again for air. His skin glistened and glowed from the warm pool lights, ethereal. "If you don't come in, I'm gonna hold a grudge against you for the rest of our lives."
"Is that a threat?"
Felix nodded, "a very serious one that I'll make the rest of the guys get in on and annoy you for all of eternity."
They already annoy you, but like Felix said, I jump, you jump applies to all of you.
You looked around the area, not another soul in sight. Felix flicked some water at you, taunting. The smug look on his face, you wanted to slap it off of him, or kiss. Probably both.
Either way, you raised an eyebrow in challenge and slid off your shorts and shirt at record speed, barreling towards the pool to follow him with a leap. The water was cold, but refreshing. It wasn't hard to open your eyes beneath it to see Felix also dipping his head below, smiling widely at you. His hands reached out to guide you both back to the surface, inhaling deeply while he laughed gleefully.
Suddenly, you were being lifted in a warm pair of arms and smothered into his body. The two of you were in fits of giggles at both of your lacks in impulse control. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while he held you closer.
The laughter slowly died down, but Felix didn't let you go. Though, his hands did slide a little lower. Barely grazing down your back, over your bathing suit bottoms and hooking beneath your thighs to urge you to wrap them around him. His plush lips were the pinkest you'd ever seen them, matching prettily with the blush on his cheeks.
You were almost weightless in the water, taking away the small fear factor that you'd be too heavy for him to carry like this, although it didn't go away entirely. You couldn't resist looking down at yourself, specifically in the stupidly small bikini that was the only one you brought. It was like your entire thought process was being narrated to him, Felix let go of one leg to tip your chin up to face him again. You met his eyes with a hint of embarrassment, but mostly bemused by the way he was looking at you.
There was lingering moment where you caught him staring at your lips, as well. The same hand beneath your chin trailed to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth.
"I thought we were supposed to be swimming," you whispered out of nervousness.
“Were we?” He didn’t give you time to respond, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. There was a small moment before they fully connected where you could’ve backed out, you could’ve pulled away and acted like nothing happened.
Instead, you pushed into him to fully melt against his lips. Felix tangled his hand in your hair to make sure there was less than oxygen between your bodies, water sloshing around as he reciprocated the heat behind the kiss. He molded against you like a perfect puzzle piece, following your lead in tracing his lower lip with your tongue. Hands grabbed at your thigh, your ass, the one in your hair trailing behind to wrap around your shoulder. His eagerness made you just as needy, just as desperate that you followed in threading your fingers through his blonde locks and raking your nails from there, down his neck and back. Felix’s body shivered at the feeling.
You could tell he was holding back when he groaned softly against you and his hold on your lower half tightened enough that you should be concerned there’d be bruises.
The other thing you should be concerned about was the water beginning to rise. Or, you were sinking? He still kept a firm grasp on you, and the water beginning to creep up your back didn’t seem to concern him, nor when it finally reached your neck and suddenly you were holding your breath and submerged all over again.
Only when the both of you were beneath the surface did he pull away to look at you. Felix smiled, cheeky and warm, he kissed you again, slower this time. A little more passionate and past the initial frenzy.
But air was an unfortunate necessity, and he lifted the both of you up again. His lips moved to the side of your cheek, placing supple pecks as you regained your breaths. You couldn’t suppress the small bits of laughter as your body relaxed and mind catches up with what had just happened.
Reluctant, Felix pulled away to brush the hair from your forehead. “Were we supposed to be swimming or something?”
“You were supposed to call me in a hour!”
The third voice broke your small bubble of bliss to see Hyunjin standing at the edge of the pool. He was only in a bathrobe and slippers, pajama pants peaking out from underneath while his hair fell into his face out of the ponytail.
You couldn’t even be bothered to let go of Felix, who in result of his shock actually held you closer.
“And why did he get to kiss you first?! That’s not fair.” Hyunjin started to untie his bathrobe, tossing it onto the table where the rest of your stuff was.
“What is happening right now?” You softly mutter as the only dry person present also pulled off his pajama pants to leave him in just his boxers. Entirely stunned and far too flustered to understand why he was stripping, you reached out to stop him, “Hyun, you just took a bath.”
“If getting in the pool is what I have to do, I’ll take a million showers. After I kiss you,” as he broke into a run towards the edge of the pool.
☆゚
tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky
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lacroixwh0r3 · 11 months
Text
In a Good Way
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Farmer!Abby Anderson x Housewife!Reader
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Summary: You help Abby relax after a long day on the farm.
Warnings: SMUT!! a little bit of fluff, oral (a recieving), fingering (a recieving), hair pulling, kissing, mommy kink, orgasm denial, petnames, switch!Abby, switch!reader, squirting, spit, overstimulation, and a lil degradtion
Song inspo: Kingston by Faye Webster
A/N: I tried to keep it sweet and cute and then I just completely went off the rails with this...oops!
Also I hit 700 followers on here...wtf thank y'all so much! it is so amazing to be able to share my stuff on here.
And ofc, like, share, reblog, and comment.
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Abby had finally finished up the last thing she needed to do around the farm before she headed back home. When she looked at the time on her phone, she realized that she was going to get home early.
As soon as she pulled up to the driveway of her home that she shared with you, her excitement grew. Abby knew that you were most likely cooking some delicious meals for dinner as well as dessert to have afterwards. She hated having to leave you all alone in the house while she was away working. Every morning at 7 a.m., she got dressed for the day, and you would lay in bed looking and beg her to stay even though you knew she couldn't. She would tell you how much she wishes she could, then place a soft kiss on your lips and make her way out the door.
Oh, but the look on your face when she got home made it all worth it to Abby.
When she left, you found things to do around the house to occupy your time. Some days you would clean around the house, make a quick trip to the local farmers market to pick up some things, read, paint your nails, or count down the hours until your wife got home.
You have to admit that it was sometimes lonely when Abby wasn't around, but you didn't really mind it. She tried to encourage you to go out and make some friends, but you refused. You were never good at making friends, and you were okay with being alone. Being alone allowed you to have time to do whatever you wanted without being judged by other people.
Abby calls out your name but gets no response. However, she did hear the sound of soft music playing from the kitchen and you singing along beautifully. The smell of whatever you were cooking made Abby extra hungry as she tiptoed her way to you.
"I didn't know that I was capable of being happy right now, But you showed me how"
She stopped at the door and noticed that your back was turned to her as you swayed your body and stirred the pot.
Behind you, you could hear the familiar sounds of Abby's heavy boots coming up behind you slowly. You try to hold back a giggle because you know she is trying to scare you. You could feel her body close behind you as you kept on moving your hips softly to the beat.
"Hey, baby," You say with your back still facing her.
"How the fuck do you do that? I can never get you," Abby playfully scoffs as she brings her hands onto your hips and presses her body onto yours. Both of you were now swaying together to the beat of the song.
"Because I know you and all your tricks, abbs," You chuckle. "You can never scare me." Abby lets out a soft hum as she kisses the back of your neck and up to the back of your ear. You leaned your head to the side, allowing her better access as your body relaxed into hers and your eyes closed.
"You make me wanna cry in a good way"
"I missed you so fucking much, baby." She whispers into your ear. You shivered as Abby's hands began to move toward your stomach, pulling you further into her hard body.
"I miss you too, sweetheart," you breathe out dreamily. You had missed Abby so much today that all you wanted to do was stay in her arms forever. "I was thinking about you all day." Abby places a kiss on your ear.
"Mm, yeah? My beautiful little wife was thinking about me today." You didn't even realize that you still had the wooden spoon in your hand until you dropped it into the pan of mashed potatoes. You spin around and wrap your arms around Abby's neck, as one of her hands is now sitting low on your back and the other is placed in the middle of your back.
All you could do was stare into her eyes before you began to speak. "You don't understand how much I think about you every day, darling," you confess to Abby as you place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's been a year since we got married, and I still can't believe you're mine, Abby." You tell her breathlessly. Her freckle-covered cheeks turned a deep red as she blushed.
"Baby, I should be saying these things to you," She tells you as she brings her face close to you without any hurry. "Beautiful." She whispers before her lips fall on yours.
The kiss was soft. Neither of you rushed it, as you both took your time and savored each other. You were addicted to the taste of Abby's soft, pouty lips and the taste of her mint chapstick that she always put on.
"You weigh just as much as me, don't you I can feel it when we touch"
Your hands grip the back of her neck as the other tugs at her messy blonde braid. Abby moaned into your mouth as you kept tugging and as she leaned in, making you bend back a bit. You feel her hand, which was placed on your lower back, now go down to your ass. Abby kneads at it as she continues to kiss you.
A minute later, you both pull away from each other simultaneously, breathing heavily.
As you both stare and caress each other, you give her braid one last tug as you stand on your tippy toes and go to kiss the bottom of her chin. Her fingers were still kneading into your cheek. "Why don't you go take a shower? Dinner should be ready as soon as you get out; is that fine with you, baby?" You ask her as you rub the back of her neck.
Abby gently nods her head as she replies, "Okay, baby. Thank you so much." She leaves one last kiss on your head as she gives your ass a quick slap and makes her way out of the kitchen.
All you could do was bite your lips and shake your head while observing her ass and thighs in her tight cargo pants.
...
After Abby's shower, she somehow convinced you to ditch dinner and sit with her for a little.
"Baby, I'm not even that hungry, honestly. I just wanna hold you." She says as she sits on the couch, pulling your waist so you can sit on her lap. Rather than sitting sideways on her lap, you adjusted yourself so that you were straddling her.
You knew she was hungry, she was just coming up with an excuse for you to join her.
"Abby, I know you're lying, babes." You tell her, looking deeply into her blue eyes as you push away some of the loose hair that came out of her braid. Her hands came up to your waist and held onto it.
Ugh, whatever, but I still wanna be here with you right now. I feel like we barely got to see each other this week," Abby confessed. You nodded your head and let out a hum, letting her know that you agreed.
Instantly, a thought popped into your head. "You know what, Abs?" You looked at her with bright eyes, seeing that she was already looking down at you with a curious look on her face. "You've been working really hard at the farm all week, and I think you deserve a break, don't you think?"
Abby briefly thinks about it: "Uh, I mean, I guess, sweetheart, but it's going to be really hard to find someone to take care of everything..." As much as Abby would love to spend the day with you, she knew that in order to get the job done the way she wanted it done, she was going to have to be the one to do it.
"Abby, please take the day off..." Your hand drops into your lap and slides up her shirt so you can feel her. "For me, baby," you murmur in a low voice. You observe her eyes as the soft look that was once there has quickly been replaced with a desirous stare.
"You slutty girl, you just want me to take off so I can have my way with you and make you cum all day, hmm?" Abby looked into one of your eyes, down at your lips, and back up to the other eye. All you could do was nod your head, unable to articulate the words.
Her words were vulgar, but she made them sound like the sweetest thing on earth with her soft voice.
The girl lets out a hum before she can say anything else. "Fine, I'll see what I can do." She places a quick peck on your lips and begins sensually gliding her fingers up and down your waist, inching close to your ass. You arch your back into her strong one, making your whole body tremble with nervousness and excitement. Your head started to feel fuzzy.
Even after years of knowing Abby and being very intimate with her, you still get nervous around her at times. It was easy for Abby to detect your nervousness without you saying anything. "Aww, am I making you nervous, my love?"
"You always make me nervous, Abs."
"Yeah?"
You nodded your head, leaned forward, and wrapped your arms around her neck. First you stroked the back of her head, then you pulled her braid down, making her head lean back into the couch.
You couldn't help yourself whenever she had her braid in. Something about the hairstyle invited you to pull against it, which Abby didn't hate. As a matter of fact, Abby loved it when you pulled her hair as she ate you out.
You bent your neck down and began to lick on the sensitive spot on her neck, making her grip your waist tighter and your hips thrust up to your clothed core.
"Oh, this feels so good, my girl." She whimpers softly. "You're making mommy feel so good."
Her words made you suck and lick her neck more. You wrapped her hair around your fist to help hold her in place. Abby trembled with pleasure as her throat released a sexy moan. With each suck on her neck, Abby could feel the sensation shoot down her body, making her clit throb.
"I wish I was fucking your pussy right now," she confessed. "I'd pound that pussy so good while you suck all down my neck." You could feel her throat vibrate with each word.
You continued your assault on her neck for a little while longer until you unwrapped her hair from your fist, stopped sucking, and leaned off of her body. She released your waist, stretching her arms on the top of the couch as she looked at you and bit her luscious lips. "Oh fuck me, baby. You look so delicious right now." You groan before grabbing her chin to look at her neck. The redish, purple hickey on her neck caught your eye. "This will let everyone know you're mine. You're my wife only, right?" You asked her possessively.
She nodded her head as soon as you asked her, "Forever, I'm forever yours, baby. Only yours."
"Good." You say as you place a quick kiss on her lips.
You never doubted Abby's loyalty at all; she never gave you any reason to question her—you just liked hearing her tell you.
"You want me to go up the stairs and get the strap, baby?" She asked. You shook your head at her, causing her to slightly frown.
You absolutely love it when she fucks you with the strap, but tonight you wanted it to be all about her. You wanted to show her how much you appreciated her.
"No, I wanna make you feel good, my love." You tell her before pushing yourself off of her lap and sitting down next to her. You were balled up into her side; your feet were folded up on the couch, and your right hand sat on her lower stomach. You noticed that her pants sat low on her hips—she didn't have on her underwear, and your fingers were just a couple of inches away from her pussy.
"Can I make you feel good?" You whispered to her as you looked up at her to see her already looking at you. Her eyes gazed at you as she took in your appearance.
"Baby, you don't have to do that, you know," she pleaded, making you scoff at her.
Abby is a stubborn woman; she's always so hard to persuade, even if you're practically begging her.
"I know, I don't have to do anything," you bluntly tell her, "but I want to."
The hand that once sat on her lower stomach was now gathering the spit from your mouth and about to slip into her pants before you looked at her again. Abby sat there agape with anticipation, ready to see what you were going to do. "Is it okay if I touch you, baby?" You asked her before touching her.
She wildly shook her head until she realized that words weren't coming out of her mouth. "Y-yeah," She stammers.
With that, you slide your hands deeper into her pants, feeling the light fuzz of her hair, and dip your spit-coated fingers onto her clit. You feel her strong arm bring your body closer to her tense one as she shakes and gasps. She was already sopping wet without your spit.
Her eyes flutter closed, while yours are still stuck on her face. "You're so wet, mommy. Tell me when I made you this wet." You moaned out as you rubbed lazy circles onto her throbbing clit.
"When-" She tries to speak but is interrupted by her own moans. She bites down on her fist as she tries to gather her words and stop herself from moaning.
You didn't like that, though; you loved hearing her pretty moans.
"Put your fist down; I want to hear all your beautiful sounds. Now, tell me what made you so wet, mommy." She instantly dropped her fist as her grip on your shoulder tightened.
"When you-oh my god-when you licked my neck and gave me a hickey," she said as you used your middle finger to flick her clit back and forth in a fast motion, making Abby try to grab at your hand. She didn't know what she was feeling right now. She wanted you to stop, but she also wanted you to keep going. She wanted to cum and lose her mind at the same time.
As she inched closer to her release, she whispered, Don't stop, in your ear, but that didn't stop you from teasing her, so you gradually slowed your pace on her clit and completely stopped. Just as fast as the feeling came, it left just as quickly after you slowed down, making Abby narrow her eyes at you and snarl.
"Aww, you were gonna cum? Hmm, baby?" You tease her as you pull out your hand from her pants and stick your fingers into your mouth, tasting her saltiness. You made eye contact with her as you sucked on your finger.
"You're such a tease, you know that, right?" She breathes out.
You just let out a laugh as you popped your finger out of your mouth. Abby suddenly moved her arm around you and got off the couch, leaving you confused. She then began to strip herself of her pajama pants, leaving her nude from the waist down. You couldn't help but kiss her pelvic bone as she stood tall in front of you. You swipe your pointer finger through her wet slit, making her weak to the knees. Before she could go down, she staggered and grabbed your shoulder tightly.
"N-no touching yet, sweetie..." She scowled at you and said, "You're gonna get on your knees and eat my pussy like a good girl, okay?" You nod your head at her as your eyes trail up her body, stopping at her face. She released your shoulder, stroked your cheek, and faintly muttered good.
She sat down on the couch, scooting to the edge so that her bottom was halfway hanging off. She sat there with her legs wide open, practically inviting you in. You just sat there, taking in her appearance, until she snapped you out of it. "What are you waiting for, baby? Get on your knees."
Without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees and positioned yourself between her legs, just a few inches away from her pussy, which was glistening from her wetness. You gawked at the view in front of you as your mouth watered, still tasting her juices on your tongue.
"Are you alright?" she asked you, making you look up at Abby, who had her eyebrow cocked up with amusement. "You can have a taste if you want," she encouraged you. However, you didn't need much encouragement.
With that, you leaned forward, feeling the heat of her body as you got closer, and licked up her wet slit before wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking. Abby let out a gasp, holding her breath as she silently uttered, Oh my god, with a strained expression. She was about to reach for your head before she tried to grasp the cushion of your shared couch. You can hear her scratch at the polyester as her dull nails slide across it.
You dug yourself deeper between her legs, swirling and flicking your tongue around her clit. You could feel her arousal spreading across your face, including your nose. "Just like that, baby, keep eating mommy's pussy," she said, breathing hard. You felt yourself grow more and more greedy for her; you wanted to feel her against you, but you continued on pleasuring her. "You love tasting me, huh, beautiful?"
You loved it more than she could know; seeing the way she squirmed and moaned as you ate her out did something to you. It made you feel feral.
You let out a deep moaned around her clit, making her convulse at the vibrations. Abby's eyes squeezed shut as her jaw went slack before you released her clit from your mouth with a faint pop. You watched her sigh out as her eyes opened. She looked down at you with twinkling eyes and let out a chuckle. "Oh fuck, look at that messy face," she cooed at you. You licked up some of it that sat on your lips.
"It's so good, mommy," You moaned up at her.
"Yeah? Well, why don't you have some more?"
You nodded as you went back to licking her pussy. First, you nibbled at her lips, licking them and sucking. She enjoyed it for a little before she let out a frustrated grunt due to the lack of stimulation.
"Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you actually gonna do something?" She said. You let out a soft laugh at her frustration, causing her to mutter fine as she grabbed onto the side of your head and shifted her hips so that your mouth went onto her clit. "Now eat." She demanded.
Right when she said that, your lips began to suckle on her pearl gently, making sure not to do too much. She pulled you in more as she grinded her hips, loving the way it felt when her clit when released from your mouth and sucked back in. You tuned out the sounds of your slurping as you were focused on making her cum.
"My good little slutty wife, look at you," she sighs out as you lap up her juices, "a-always taking care of me." You tried to keep your eyes open to watch her, but with her words and delicious taste, you couldn't help it.
You began sucking harder, making her body tense and her legs clamp around your head, but you quickly grabbed her inner thigh. You allowed your drool to flow off your tongue as you ferociously ate her cunt, making her more soaked.
"Gonna cum, baby! I'm gonna cum all over that pretty face." She moaned loudly, making you moan as well. "I'm cumming, oh fuck!" Her body was still tense, but now she was shaking—she cursed out and moaned your name as her cum gushed into your mouth. You swallowed it while some of it dripped down your chin.
You eventually pulled away from her pussy once her orgasm died down. Her breathing was loud as she lay there with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. Her loose strand of hair was stuck to her now sweaty forehead, looking beautiful as always. You just sat there between her thighs as you whispered, It's okay.
Finally, Abby took one last deep breath before opening her eyes, looking down at you, and letting out a chuckle. "I needed that," She said. Her hands rested over top of her t-shirt-covered stomach as she relaxed on the couch.
"I can tell, baby. You okay?"
"I'm more than okay," she said as she smirked at you, making you giggle. "Now can I fuck you? I wanna make you feel good."
"Nuh uh, Ms. Anderson, not tonight." You tell her as you place kisses on her inner thigh. Her body began to squirm, but she still kept her composure.
"It's actually Mrs. Anderson," she corrected you with her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched as she raised her left hand to show you her ring. "And why not, baby?" Her previous expression dropped quickly as she pouted.
"Because...I wanna keep tasting you tonight," you try to tempt her as you place your kisses closer to her pussy. It was working because she sucked in a sharp breath and bit down on her lip.
"You think you can cum one more time for me, mommy?" You asked her as you planted a kiss just above her pussy where the hair lay, on her soaking lips, and on her clit. She just nodded weakly as she watched.
You placed one more soft kiss on her clit before starting your attack again. You began to eat her out as if you were tongue kissing her plush lip. "Fuck, what has gotten into you, sweetie?" Abby moaned.
You groaned onto her pussy while bringing your fingers up to her pussy and teased her wet hole. You realized that you caught her by surprise because her body jolted. Once you slithered your finger into her, you began to move it in and out of her while servicing her clit with your mouth. You can feel her walls squeeze around your fingers.
"You're gonna make me cum already."
"Give-give me your hand so I can hold it while you make me cum," Abby sputtered out. You reach up, with your left arm resting on her thighs and stomach as our hands intertwine. Abby's stomach, as well as yours, flipped—there was something so mushy yet arousing about it. Seeing and feeling her finger rub against the ring she had given you did something to you. You move away from her pussy with your teeth lightly grazing against her clit. You slowly pulled your fingers out of her, then began to rapidly rub her pussy, making sure to focus on her clit.
"I-I'm cu-oh my god, I'm cumming." Her moans became uncharacteristically high, her legs got wider, and her grip on your hand tightened. Your arm began to ache as you continued your movements, but you had no plans on stopping.
"Cum for me, Abby; cum all over my hand, beautiful." You egged her on. You felt her squirm, trying to get away, but you pressed your wrist down on her stomach. Her face got redder and spread down to her neck.
"Shit! If you keep going, I'm gonna-" Her words were cut off as her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Suddenly, her wet sounds got louder, and liquid began to gush from her, causing it to go everywhere. Down your arm, on your face, on your shirt, and all over herself. Some of it had even gotten on the couch, leaving a large wet spot, and on the carpet.
We're definitely going to have to get a new couch now.
"Oh!" You squealed out in surprise, continuing to rub against her clit. "You're squirting so much, baby!" It made you giddy that you were the one doing this to her.
Her body trashed around and trembled as she tried to speak, but she couldn't, so you decided that she had enough and stopped. You got off your knees and sat on the couch next to her before pulling her head into your chest. Her arms immediately wrapped around you. You could feel her quivering and breathing hard into your chest as you stroked and kissed her head.
"You did so good, baby," you murmured to her, rocking her back and forth.
You both stayed like that until she cooled down. You heard her say something, but you couldn't hear her, so you asked her to repeat herself.
"I can eat your pussy now," She said as her words were muffled into your chest.
"No, Abby. You need to rest."
"But I—" she tried to get out before you interrupted her.
You rolled your eyes. She was being stubborn again.
"No, plus you'll be home all day tomorrow, so you can do whatever you want." You smirked, making her smile into your chest, and said true in agreement.
It went quiet for a while until you felt Abby's breathing even out and her body slump against yours. She was asleep. You just shook your head, knowing she had been tired all along.
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