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pia-nor481 · 6 months

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I can do it better

Max verstappen x reader smut 18+

3.6k words

She was sat on their-her bedroom floor trying to recollect herself when a loud knock to the front door broke her out of the state she was in. Her eyes were red and cheeks painted with tears. Hoping that the knocking would stop she continued to stare at herself in the full length mirror opposite her hunched over body. Evidently, it didn't stop, she practically shouted the person behind the door to wait a minute. In the mean time, she stumbled up, pulling a shirt over her body and rushing to the bathroom, in hope of cold water freshening her face up; Although it was hard to look presentable at this given time. She could barely stay up her two feet while walking towards the front door. She didn't know where her things were, phone definitely blowing up with her friends asking how her night went, even if they got a hold of her, she wouldn't answer, they'd had enough of her complaints of her love life.

Once she reached the door handle, she opened it a crack, trying to avoid her body being seen. "Sorry to just turn up but my flight leaves tomorrow and you weren't answering, and need some of my stuff before I go." Max was a pretty observant person, he had to be; so nothing slipped past him. "You open the door like this for all the men who knock?" He joked lightly, knowing she often took what he said in jest. He looked back up to her face when there was no further comment. "No, what's up? I can tell something is wrong." He said letting himself into her flat, placing his keys and phone on the counter next to hers, he saw the ample amount of WhatsApp notifications. "Come on, you can tell me what happened." It was so obvious that max still cared for her. Their relationship was always messy. They fought constantly, it started as little things; the floors not being cleaned properly or a few things left in awkward or annoying places. Both of their friends said it was good that they were fighting about things like that, claiming it was healthy to have small bits of conflict that could be quickly resolved. But it soon became a big problem when carer got involved, he was always traveling whether it be for the actual race, England to help with development of the car, or visiting his home to see his parents or even Monaco to be with his friends, but her job required her to be in one place. They tried hard to make it work, she book flights to come and see some of his races or he would stay until Wednesday night of the race week just to spend time with her, but it just wasn't enough.

There had been a few times were Max had heard her on the phone with her friends trying to convince her to break up with him, but every time she would shut them own. "He's toxic, leave him before it gets worse. There can't be anything that makes it worth the stress and disappointment." She would shake her head before remembering that they couldn't see her that's one thing Max really enjoyed, her tendency to show rather than speak. "If he's toxic, I'll wear a hazmat. You don't get it, I love him." Hearing her say things like that always made him smile. He loved her just as much, if not more. Every time he'd come back he would spend all his time awake comforting her, making her feel secure. She wasn't overly talkative when being asked questions, preferring to just shake her head or even pretend she didn't hear it; but not with max. He tried to make sure she would communicate with him, even when they fought, he'd let her scream and shout at him, he wanted to hear everything she had to say, so he knew how she felt, so he could help, He didn't get the luxury of expression when he was younger and that caused many problems. He learnt from this, he learned how to be better, he learned how to love. Max loved, no, loves her so much; it was hard for him to put it into words sometimes, she knew this, and was okay with him showing his love physically. That may have been a part of the problem, they were never close enough for him to show her how much he loved her. Although he is not the only one to blame, she was stubborn, overly so. She hated being wrong and so did he. So Max tried his hardest to not condescend her when she was wrong, but that wasn't often.

"Come on." He had to bite back the pet names he gave her in the years they spent together. "You can tell me what happened." She also hated voicing her concerns with him. She never worried about cheating, Max would never. It was like she felt neglected, but she couldn't say that, it was selfish, she was the one who said they could make the distance work. As max looked around the room he noticed how empty it was. With all of his things gone it didn't feel like home to her anymore. His house in Monaco didn't feel like home either, not without her. She looked up from her feet to meet his eyes. "It's embarrassing." His shoulders dropped, she was stupid sometimes, she didn't realised how silly that sounded to him. "And I've known you for how long?" He paused walking back towards her, resisting the urge to hold her close, to pull her into his chest and cradle her head. "At least it wasn't someone else's fault." he said slightly relieved, her eyes were still a cause for concern, even now he was prepared to fix any problem she had. The silence was loud, his anger pooled at his fists. "Right?" His eyes scanned over her whole body, making sure she wasn't hurt. "Its stupid, and I'm fine by the way. Can't you just grab your stuff and go?" she asked, almost pleading for him to leave. He was not going to leave her alone, not when she was like this.

Max went against his better judgement and hugged her, she needed it, no matter how many times she wanted to be left completely alone. "Tell me. You always feel better when you say what you're thinking, not just shouting at the mirror." She was almost reduced to tears, not only because of his words, but because she was so embarrassed. "Promise you wont laugh." She whispered through teary eyes. "Promise." He pulled his chest away, so he could look her in the eyes as she spoke. He wanted her to feel listened to, cared for. "So my friends set me up with his guy called Matthew, right." Any remaining anger turned into jealousy. He was fuming that his girl was going on a date with some guy. He pushed his feelings aside briefly, wanting to hear the rest of her story. "Well, we went out to this pretty nice place and it was going well, at least I thought so. Anyway, we came back here and he started kiss me, and you feel me up and stuff." She really didn't want to give her ex-boyfriend the details of her hook up. She paused still embarrassed. "Was he blonde and foreign as well?" Her face became warm as he let out a chuckle, this actually comforted him a bit, to see her go out with guys that reminded her of him. "Glad to see you have a type." She gave him a pointed look as an initial response. "Sorry, go on." Shifting her feet to avoid the shame. Max gave her sweet look, enticing her to speak. "When we, um, went to bed it was, uh, fine to start with but you know, he couldn't make me cum, it didn't seem like he was even trying." Her voice was shaky, her nerves were sky high, but she continued because, for once, Max was right. "So I may or may not have sent him out of the flat." She says with as sigh, looking up at her and grasping his arm for a bit of support ,not physical, but emotional, he was comforting to touch. "I am so glad I was your boyfriend and knew how to actually please you or I don't think we would have lasted as long as we did." He spoke with a crooked smile, ready of a light slap to his chest. "It's not funny Max." defeated, her shoulders slumped slightly as she tried to pull out of his tight grasp. "It is a little bit, oh no, please don't give me that look. I'm sorry I swear."

"So let me get this straight, you wanted to hook up with this guy, Matthew, and he was being a selfish prick, and now you are all desperate and pent up. That I can defiantly work with." Confusion covered her face as Max picked her up by her waist and began walking them towards the bedroom. She hooked her legs around his hips during his venture. She would often scold him for doing things without warning or saying things that he shouldn't. She began to kiss his neck, wanting his attention back on her. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she would worry about the consequences later. One of his hands slid down her back, giving her ass a nice squeeze, he knew she liked it, not that she'd say so, he had to figure that out for himself.

Once his knees touched the edge of the bed, he placed her on it, immediately pushing her shirt up, "No underwear as well, you really do treat the guys at your door well." He let out with a smirk, before pushing her thighs apart further so he could slot between them. The ghost of his breath had her shuddering, she moaned when his lips finally touched her cunt, tongue licking a long stripe over her slit. Max looked up, not even being able to see her face as her head was thrown back at the slightest amount of pleasure. She really needed to feel him. He began to suck on her clit lightly, not wanting to rush into it and run the risk of ruining her orgasm, it hurt him to make her wait any longer, knowing she had spent so much time dissatisfied. Max shook his head side to side sending waves of bliss through her whole body.

Max got good at eating pussy from practicing on her. There were times where he spent more time between her legs than not. Her moans got louder as max put more pressure on her clit, heightening the sensation. "Could he not do this to you? No? That's what I thought." He breathed against her cunt, making her hips shift towards him. Max pulled her knees over his shoulders as he went back in, the noises that filled the room were quickly becoming pornographic. He could feel her twitching and clenching as he ate her out, Max moaned at the feeling, knowing it would tip her over the edge. "Yes, Max. Please, it feels so good." She barely got out, lungs burning. As she began gasping for air, Max could feel her ankles cross behind his back, squishing his head between her thighs. She came hard, harder than she'd done since the last time they were together. No matter who she slept with, no matter how many times she made herself cum it was never the same. "Did that feel good? Was that better than Matthew? Yeah, I know it is."

She pushed Max back slightly so she could slip off the bed and on to her knees. She undid his belt as quick as her shaky hands would allow her. She squeezed him lightly and ran her hand over his cock a few times before actually pulling it out, she licked a long stripe along the underside, right along the thick vein of his length. Max let out a breathy groan as she took his entire cock in her mouth, reaching down her throat. His hands quickly found her hair and made pace in tangling them. He guided her up and down his cock watching from above with a pleased look on his face. She pulled off with a loud pop, then she tongued the space between the head and shaft, he let out a guttural moan at the feeling, urging her to take him back in her mouth, it felt phenomenal. Once she hollowed her cheeks again it all became too much for max, she made him cum so hard he started to feel almost lightheaded, seeing stars, hunching over at the feeling. "Fuck, you feel so go baby. Always making me feel so good." He praised, not one lie leaving his lips, although he got to cum every time he had sex, it didn't feel as euphoric as it did with her.

"Get up here." he said, pulling her up to her tip toes for a kiss. He slipped his tongue practically down her throat, tasting himself in her mouth. Max never understood how other guys could possibly complain about their girlfriend wanting a kiss after blowing him. If she had no problem kissing him after eating her out, what was the difference? The mix was divine, it sent blood rushing to his cock almost immediately as their lips touched. He let his hands run wild over her body, missing the warm of her skin against his. He missed being able to touch every divot of her body. He missed the control he had over her, and the trust she had in him. He was almost as pent up as she was. Max made a point of picking her up again, just to throw her back down on the bed. He noticed the framed painting was put back up above the bed. When they were together, it was almost exclusively on the floor as they got lazy hunting for it behind the headboard, He was disappointed that it was placed back to its home. Max caged her head between her arms as he kissed his way down her abdomen before he gave her cunt one final kiss. He slid his cock over her clit just to tease, he got the same reaction buy only pushing the head in and out a few times before slowly slipping his whole cock in inch by inch. She was swimming in pleasure with max slowly marking her, her neck covered in bites, a few bleeding slightly, her chest was covered in red marks, he needed to mark her as his again, no one was allowed to touch what was his. Not anymore. "Fuck." Max strained, sounding breathless and choked as he continued to pound into her, just how she always liked. He was too hot not to moan over, so she did, and he indulged her, usually he'd have to cover her mouth with his hand or push her face into the pillows to avoid noise complaints, but tonight he'd let her do anything, all he wanted was her back in his arms. He continued to abuse her walls while she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles becoming white with the new found strength. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while the remainder of her make up began to smudge and run. Max was fucking her so well her face was painted with tears of joy, and it was just so hot. Max became impossibly harder seeing her fucked out face. He stared to fuck her deeper, hitting that spot that made her go blind with pleasure. "Oh yes Max, always make me feel so good." Her inability to articulate proper sentences was a tell tale sign she was close. Max learned how to read her like a book and it was so beneficial in times like this.

He quickened his pace, feeling quite close himself. He could she some of this hook up guy's stuff still in her room and it just fuelled the fire. "Matthew didn't make you feel nearly this good did he, sweetheart. You can be honest because I already know." He was interrupted by a thud against the floor. "That's it, good fucking girl for me." he praised her, knowing she would melt from his words, his voice was something she admitted masturbating to when he was gone. She claimed it was mostly because of his accent, but also the tone and the pitch, it just got her so hot and bothered. "Think you can hold on just a little longer?" He asked, feeling her clench around his cock, it made it hard for him to resist. "Only for you, Max." she moaned aware it would edge him on further, fucking her felt exclusive, she was a rare and only he could have her. Perhaps he was a bit possessive, but that didn't matter now that he was with her. One of his hands slid up to her throat, pressing lightly on the sides to only slow the blood flow to her head; his other made way to her clit, rubbing fast circles with just enough pressure to really make it feel good. "Please, just.. just like tha..that." She managed to slur out before her words were cut off by a whine. Her orgasm hit so hard that her head was pushing deep in the mattress and her legs began to spasm and shake. Max only now allowed him self to cum, while she was coming down. He pulled out, shooting plenty of long, thick ropes of cum all over her torso, mainly her perfect tits that her just couldn't resist. They both sighed quietly with small laugh.

Max gave her a chaste kiss before walking leisurely to the bathroom and picking up a towel to clean her up a bit. On his way back he turned the AC on, anticipating that she would ask him to stay; if he was he want to be touching her the entire time, in order to keep her close he needed the room cold. He brushed the towel over she skin as gently as possible, although it still pulled a moan from her. "I know, but I have to, Darling." He threw the towel to the corner of the room, knowing she'd complain about it later. "Were are my clothes?" He asked quietly, looking back at her on the bed with a grin plastered to her face. "Where you left them before moving out." still in the wardrobe would have been an easier answer but she wanted him to know she didn't want him gone. She anticipated him coming back and wanting to stay, as usual she was right. He put his classic black t-shirt on before climbing in bed with her. "I'm not putting that frame back up." was the first thing she said after coming out of her orgasmic haze. He pulled her practically on top of his body and held her close, as if someone was going to take her from him. "I know." was all he said, trying to think of the right words to convey his feelings. "I never stopped loving you." Was all he could say so he coupled it with a tight squeeze. "I know." It was her turn to give a dry reply and kiss his neck sweetly. "This is great pillow talk." Max laughed out quietly and he could feel her smile against his chest. "I'm so sorry, I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have blamed you as much as I did, I'm just as responsible. And I most definitely should not have told you to leave and never come back. I regretted it immediately, you know. As soon as I heard the door shut I lost it. I don't deserve you Max, but I need you so much." His heart ached hearing her confession, feeling her tears wet his shirt slightly. "I shouldn't have walked out. I know what you're like when you get angry. As soon I closed that door I couldn't bring myself to leave. I slept outside that door, your neighbour asked what happened and I started crying to her. I kept in touch with your friends, or at least I tried to. I needed to make sure you were okay, but it doesn't seem like they like me much. So don't say you don't deserve me, you do. We will make it to the end, I promise you. I wont lose you again. I love you too much for that." She wiped her now joyful tears as she kissed his lips again.

There was a loud repeated knock on her door, they tried to ignore it, assuming it was their neighbours complaining about the noise, they normally gave up after a few knocks. But this one persisted. "You stay here and keep warm alright, I'll se who it is." Max got out of the bed a recovered her body in blankets while walking with unnecessary pace towards the door. He swung it open aggressively. "Look I'm sorry about that but can I just get the rest of my clothes and leave, there's no need to-" The guy, who max assumed to me Matthew, stopped upon seeing Max. "Sorry man, but that's not happening. Not while I'm here. I don't think you even deserve it, especially if you can't make such a desperate woman come. Only took me three minutes . So fuck off now will you." Max said before slamming the door, feeling relieved as he reached her again. "I love you so much Max."

#f1 x reader #f1 x reader smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 fic #33 max verstappen #MV:33

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merchelsea · 5 months

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sacrifice - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: you and lando have a long distance relationship due to your hard work. you rarely have free time to attend to his races, the only one you actually attend every year is monaco's. you understand things will have to change when lando gets into a crash and that makes you want to be there with him at everytimes.

author’s note: i hate making myself go through this.

word count:

warnings: lets pretend lando crashed duriung the interlagos gp, not the LA one, for the sake of the plot :)

"hey, babe!" you mumbled as you stirred from your nap. originally meant for a quick rest before the race, it turned into a marathon of sleep that spanned the entire duration of the race. checking the timing, you muttered, "shit."

"were you asleep?" he chuckled.

"yeah... I'm sorry babe. I was just trying to catch up on some sleep debt before the race. I am just tired..." you explained with a low rumble. lando always had a away of understanding things. "anyways, how did it go?"

"not so well, i am kind of glad that you didn't watch it, you would've freak out unnecessarely." he sighed

"why? what happened?" you sat up, eyes squeezed shut in alarm.

"it was nothing serious, just a crash." he reassured. the word 'crash' froze you, an unsettling feeling settling in your chest. "I'm fine now; I'm at the hospital doing some tests."

you didn't answer him and he immediately sensed your worry, it was your usual reaction whenever he had an incident. it was your own way to deal with stuff. "I'll have to stay here in brazil for some extra days. we don't want to rush things. everything is alright, but still."

"yeah, I know. how are you feeling? any pain? wasit bad? why are you at the hospital? is there anything they're worried about?" your thoughts rushed out, anxiety evident. you wished you could've been there with him, knowing how much he disliked going through hospitalization alone.

"calm down, baby. I'm fine, no pain. they gave me painkillers for my headache," he began, his voice carrying weariness and sadness. "the crash felt horrible from inside the car, but I've seen the footage, and it wasn't that bad. I don't think they're worried about anything specific, just my racing career," he added with a hint of self-deprecating humor.

"shut up. you know those jokes aren't funny, right?" you retorted, hating his tendency for such jokes. "anyways, I miss you so much. you have no idea." placing your phone on the bed, you awaited his response as you searched for your notebook.

"I know babe, I miss you like crazy too. and i won't be able to be home for some more days, as i told you. i hate it." you both sighed. "but it's okay, i'm glad you weren't here this time."

although you felt the honesty in his words, you could also know that it was pure bullshit. he wanted you to be there more that anything, and the fights you two had over the past weeks showed that clearly.

lando felt your support fading away and, as always, he talked about it with you, but there was nothing you could do, you could not just leave your work and follow him around the world.

your life had to come first. you couldn't be financially dependent. you had never wanted that for yourself.

"I love you, lando. you know that, right?"

"i know. I love you too." anuncomfortable silence lingered, more apparent to him than to you, as you were preoccupied with booking a flight to brazil. "look, I have to hang up to do some exams. I'll call you as soon as I can, yeah?"

"yeah, okay. keep me updated, for the love of god." he laughed and silently hang up.

as soon as you were able to, you called your boss, letting her aware of the whole situation, who, understandingly, granted you a week off, more than you needed. grateful, you expressed your thanks in every single way you could.

as you couldn't just fly there without someone knowing, you called lando's dad to let him know that you were going. he was thankful that his son had found someone who cared so much about him, and as so helped you through everything.

you would obviously be staying at lando's room with him, so you didn't need to worry about that, but there were things you actually needed to deal with and that's where he was an absolute angel, taking care of everything for you.

the flight proved to be torturous; sleep eluded you, your mind consumed by worry for your boyfriend, presently hospitalized in a foreign country that held no appeal for him. the inability to communicate with him intensified your anxiety, and the endurance of such a long flight was a challenge unfamiliar to you.

the only thing keeping you focused on trying to sleep was knowing that you'd see lando soon and that you needed to be sane.

once you arrived in brazil, adam had already sent an uber to pick you up and drop you at the hotel. you were eternally grateful for him. your appreciation deepened when, upon entering the hotel, you found everything seamlessly taken care of, allowing you to reach his son without delay.

he drove you there himself, the casual conversation during the car ride centered uiquely around the topic most dear to both of you—lando's health.

every detail adam shared heightened your awareness; lando was okay, but not as well as he should be. the information failed to ease your mind, creating a lingering unease.

after reaching the hospital, the attending doctor informed you that lando was still asleep but encouraged you to enter. you opened the door to his room, and an immediate sense of tranquility washed over you. lando's peaceful slumber tugged at your heartstrings, and the sight of his features made you want to cry; you had missed him so damn much.

you took his hand, staying by his side as he slept. despite your exhaustion, the anticipation of his awakening kept sleep at bay.

lando woke up and confusedly stared at you for five minutes straight. in his head, he was trying to figure out if you were real or if his desperation had just made you up. you squeezed his hand and that seemed to clear his mind. you were in fact there.

"love?" he muttered, scared of being wrong.

"hey baby" you whispered to him, smiling softly.

"you're here? what are you doing here?" he hurriedly sat up, his expression filled with worry, like he wasn´t the one on a hospital bed.

"i'm here to see you." you extended your hand and let it travel through his face. "got the week off, couldn't leave you alone." his smile was priceless. he rushed his arms around your waist, since you were standing now, and pulled you closer to him, head in your belly.

when he told you he had missed you like crazy, he didn't define it well enough.

he locked his lips with yours as soon as he had a chance. you missed that feeling, you missed it too fucking much. you missed everything about him too fucking much, and maybe this misfortune was just what you needed to realize that something had to change. you couldn't miss him like this all the time.

it was literal hell, for the both of you.

adam entered the room after some time and, from his face, you could see he carried good news.

and you were right. "you are free to leave today, all the exams cameback with positive answers. you still have to stay in brazil, of course, a flight so long could jeopardize your health, so you'll have to stay for a bit longer, but you two can go stay at the hotel for tonight.

you and lando celebrate this little "victory" with each other and then you start talking about going home, anticipating what you'd do.

the room was uncharacteristically quiet as he payed attention to the TV and you lost yourself in your own mind.

"I think I might quit my job." you let out with your head layed in his chest. he twists his head to look at you. "what?" he asks, clearly confused, in his head, trying to figure out where all of this was coming from.

yes, it's true that he didn't like to travel around the world every year and leave you behind, and it's also true that this past year, he felt your support fade away, but he didn't want you to leave your life in second place for him. he knew, and understood, how important for you it was to have your financial independence.

he had started to feel guilty, even though this was not his fault.

you thought and rethought about it during your flight, since it was the only thing you could do. of course you never wanted that, but you also couldn't bare the distance anymore, and his accident showed you that.

you wanted to be there, to be able to celebrate every single one of his podiums by his side and not over the phone, you wanted to be able to hold and support him whenever he needed you to do so.

six years into your relationship, neither of you envisioned it ending anytime soon. if it did, you had your savings, but for now, you craved closeness.

"seriously. i want to be with you. i think i never noticed how affected i was by your absence, but i am a lot." you admitted with a sigh. helistened intently. "I want to be able to be with you."

"are you for real?" he asked, concern in his eyes. "I don't want you to feel pressured to do that. I love you whether you're here or on the other side of the world."

"I know, lan. it's not like I would stop working. I just have to find something within my capacities that allows me to travel around the world with you. and it's not like you're going to break up with me, leaving me with nothing. I have my money."

"it's not like I'm gonna break up with you, period." he smirked. "we're a forever thing."

turning you around as if you were as light as a pillow, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

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say-al0e · 6 months

Text

Starlight

Rating: PG

Summary: As your back seater, you trusted Bob with your life. He was the one person you could tell anything. He cared enough to listen and did what he could to ease your anxiety. He knows something's wrong but he couldn't imagine the birdstrike made you consider feelings you thought were better left buried. [Ft. "It's you, it's always been you, it always will be you." + "I'm so in love with you and you don't even notice." "...you're in love with me?" Requested by Anon ages ago - sorry!] Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of work related injury (birdstrike), brief mention of sexism in the workplace. Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x fem!Reader (Pilot!Reader) Word Count: 3.8k Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Robert Floyd knew what it was like to be anxious. He spent his fair share of days in a suspended state of fight or flight, really only relaxed when he was in the air - a contradiction, he knew, but being strapped into his seat with nothing but the blue expanse of sky stretching before him was comforting in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

Anxiety was something he knew all too well but he knew you, too. Over the years, Bob had learned to read you better than the most well-loved book on his shelf. The little tells that everyone else missed - the downward curve of your mouth, the slump of your shoulders, the uneven measure of your breathing - never escaped his notice.

It was easy to guess that the measure of comfort, the ease with which he read you, came from your proximity. As your back seater, Bob spent more time with you than anyone else. He was trained to notice things, to anticipate the next move, to read a few lines ahead, and you - your moods, your tells, your general being - were at the top of the list of things he noticed.

For better or for worse, good day or bad, Bob could tell with a single look.

There was no hiding from Bob, not that you even tried anymore, and there was never any surprise that he saw the signs of your anxiety immediately.

The moment you stepped into his room - fingers trembling, lashes fluttering as you blinked just a little too quick, breath coming in a little too shallow - he knew. There was no point in trying to hide it, no use in pretending that it was anything other than anxiety. Bob could see right through you by now.

Way back when, when he first realized that you were just as anxious as him and lived in that same state of suspended fight or flight, he’d asked what helped.

For Bob, it was music. Very few people knew he enjoyed playing guitar - even fewer had ever heard him play to know that he was good at it - but when he found himself lost in thought, crippled by an anxiety that left him nauseous, he took a few moments to sit and strum away. His vinyl collection remained back home, waiting for the day he moved into a place that he could really make his own, but when playing guitar didn’t work, he still turned on the playlist he made specifically for moments of anxiety and let himself get lost in the music.

Bob remembered the look on your face when you admitted that you had no idea. That frown - a little confused, curious as to why he even asked; a lot upset, crushed that you had no idea how to help yourself after spending your life almost hyper independent - and the way you nearly refused to meet his eyes, intently staring at the stained carpet of his bedroom floor, remained seared into his memory.

Before him, there’d been no one to acknowledge your feelings. Growing up, you were always the tough one. In the Naval Academy, and at Top Gun, you pushed yourself to be the best - eager to be taken seriously in a world dominated by men. Outwardly, everyone saw you as the strong one; the one that was capable of pushing through, no matter the circumstances.

Before him, no one cared enough to truly look and see beyond the facade. If they noticed, no one ever really cared enough to try and help. Before him, each time you felt anxious - chest aching, lungs tight, heart racing, skin prickling - you isolated yourself.

Dealing with the problem on your own was easier when there was no additional disappointment caused by another’s apathy.

Bob, however, cared.

If you told him that isolation really helped - truly meant it, really needed time alone to gather yourself, to pick apart the pieces of your panic and put yourself back together again - he would’ve gladly given you space. But that wasn’t the case and Bob knew that.

At first, he had no idea how to help, but he knew that leaving you alone wasn’t the way too go about things. No matter how hard you tried to push him away - something he was thankful you no longer tried to do.

And after a great deal of trial and error, he helped you figure out what worked best.

Instead of allowing you to step further inside, Bob was on his feet and reaching for his keys and jacket the second he caught sight of your face. He could see the glass of your eyes, the far-off stare as you willed yourself not to fall apart. And despite the blistering heat outside, he could see the way shivers racked your body.

Without a second thought, he draped the soft fabric over your shoulders. It was light but it served as a weight against your skin, a sort of tether to reality, as he guided you out of his room.

Warmth bled from his palms, seeped through the fabric and into your skin as he placed a hand at the middle of your back, and his mouth curved into a soft frown as you leaned into the touch. It wasn’t as exceedingly rare as it seemed that first time - way back when, before Bob knew whether your partnership would work, before he was comfortable enough with you as a friend to really allow himself to fall for you - but you really only leaned in like that when you were so far in your head that he wondered just what sent you spiraling.

Bob wasted no time wondering, however. “C’mon,” he urged gently, voice quiet and soft in a way it always seemed to go in moments like this. “Let’s go for a drive.”

As he guided you out of the building, he kept closer than he usually stood - only a fraction of an inch between you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his body and the shivers racking yours - and squeezed your shoulder gently as he opened the passenger door. Soft brown eyes, wide and searching, met yours as you climbed in.

When you offered him the ghost of a smile, watery and in no way reaching your eyes, he returned it as best as he could - encouraging, soft, easy - and mumbled a quiet, “It’s okay,” before rounding the vehicle.

There was no need to ask where he was taking you. This had become an increasingly regular occurrence - a byproduct of the stress of work and life, family and all their endless frustration, all settling heavy on your chest - so you wrapped the soft fabric of his sweatshirt tighter around your body. The warmth mattered little, even as Bob turned on the heat despite his own discomfort, as you inhaled deeply.

The jacket smelled of him - the soft, clean scent of his shampoo; the woody, citrus scent of his cologne; acrid jet fuel, achingly familiar, that managed to permeate every item either of you owned - and it calmed your heart, if only slightly. Though it was light, the added weight helped, pressed on your shoulders and eased the tremors in your limbs, as Bob slowly maneuvered the streets.

Doe eyes flickered between you and the road occasionally, soft brown reflecting orange streetlights and glittering with a concern you only really saw directed at you. Bob cared about a lot of things - his friends, his family, his job - and was anxious about even more. But he really only worried about you these days.

Bob never voiced it aloud, never said it in so many words, but you knew. Everyone knew. There was very little fragile about you - he knew that, had seen you take charge on more than one occasion; regularly watched you hold your own with men like Hangman, men who somehow managed to be worse than Hangman ever thought about being - but he still worried.

Outwardly, the pair of you could’t seem anymore different. Bob relegated himself to the shadows, allowed the world to spin without throwing himself right into the center of it all. You never sought attention but, somehow, always seemed to garner it without so much as the blink of an eye. Not that he blamed anyone for focusing on you, he was guilty of it, too, most days.

But he knew that you shared more similarities than differences.

Long years, left out and forgotten, invisible to nearly everyone else; less than stellar childhoods, spent building fantasies that had yet to come to pass as a means of protecting yourselves; years of service, marked by exemplary records and commendations, even through relative silence.

If anyone could really understand what you felt, the anxiety that all too often plagued you, the root of what really kept you up at night, it was Bob.

As buildings rushed by, passed in a blur of shadows and orange streetlights, you busied yourself with a fraying thread at the cuff of his jacket. Though silence was not unusual, this was heavier than normal - nearly suffocating, without the usual comfort, lacking the distinct feeling of home that so often came with spending time together - but breaking it was the last thing on either of your minds.

Bob would never push, would never make you speak before you were ready, and knew that you were one of the few who truly appreciated his ability to remain a quiet, steady force as he navigated the familiar course through town.

The beach wasn’t a place either of you frequented - sun and sand and a preening Hangman didn’t top either of your lists of favorite things - and before being stationed in California, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d stepped foot on one. There wasn’t really much there for either of you but Bob had discovered one thing about the beach that managed to help your anxiety.

Sitting in the sand, cloaked in the soft light of the moon, as you listened to the crashing of waves made it easier for you to catch your breath. Watching the twinkling lights of distant stars, planets, passing planes - sometimes pointing them out, others just watching in silence - brought your heart rate down and stopped the tingling in the tips of your fingers.

Neither of you expected the beach to be the place you found solace but Bob had no intention of questioning something that helped you return to yourself.

Arriving at the beach meant following a familiar routine. Bob parked, grabbed an oversized towel from the backseat floorboard, and spared you a final cursory glance before climbing out to open your door for you. He guided you, with a hand at the middle of your back - always so respectful, always careful not to dip too low - along the wooden path down to the sand before stopping and helping you remove your shoes.

When you settled in the sand, close enough to the water to feel the occasional spray of sea air but far enough ashore to remain out of reach, he always returned his full attention to you.

Sometimes, Bob asked if you wanted to talk. He never pushed, was never one to swear getting whatever it was off your chest would make you feel better - he knew from experience that it wouldn’t, not always -, but he always offered to listen. However, more often than not, you refused his request with one of your own.

“Can you talk? Doesn’t really matter what you say.”

The words were always spoken softly, nearly lost in the crashing of waves, but this was routine now. It didn’t really matter if he heard the words or not, he could see the request in the curve of your mouth - in the way your eyes glittered with unshed tears as you glanced at him from beneath your lashes.

That request was always followed by an even quieter, “Your voice helps.” While Bob wasn’t known for being the most talkative, he swore he’d spend the rest of his life speaking, just for you.

When you first made that request, he nearly asked you why. His voice wasn’t one people sought out, wasn’t one people cared to pay much attention to. But for some reason, you seemed to find comfort in it - in him - and the thought warmed his heart more than he cared to admit.

Bob never really let himself think too much about any of it, though, not where you were concerned. If he allowed himself that indulgence, he knew it would be glaringly obvious how he felt. There would be no denying just how deep his feelings for you ran, no denying that he’d known about those feelings since that first night at the beach. But most of all, there would be no denying that he was desperate to do anything and everything to make you happy.

There wasn’t a world in which Bob could see you returning his feelings - not just because of your jobs, not just because your lives were so thoroughly intertwined at this point that your inevitable rejection would destroy the effortless working relationship you’d built - so he kept them buried down deep.

It didn’t help to know that he wasn’t the only one who’d found you immediately alluring. Still, he’d witnessed you turn down Fanboy, Rooster, and Hangman in rapid succession - something that dashed any remaining sliver of hope that you could ever want him.

Regardless, the more time he spent with you, the better he got to know you, the deeper his feelings ran. You allowed him to catch glimpses that no one else ever got the privilege of seeing, allowed him a look at the inner workings of your mind. You let your guard down around him, gave him an intimate look at the person behind the bravado you felt necessary to survive in this world, and he was grateful for every glimpse.

As desperate as he sometimes felt to put a little distance between you outside of the cockpit, Bob knew that he couldn’t stand it. Not when he was the one you turned to, not when you seemed to find such comfort in him. So, he did as you asked.

“My grandma called this morning,” he began, voice quiet so as to avoid shattering the peace that surrounded you both. “She said it snowed yesterday and threatened to hang up on me when I told her it’s been seventy-five and sunny here every day.”

From the corner of his eye, Bob could see the ghost of a smile lift the corner of your mouth. A soft exhale, something that resembled quiet laughter, escaped and he began to smile a little himself. You’d had the joy of meeting his grandmother on her last visit - asked about her just as often as she asked about you - and loved to hear stories of her more than anything.

“The neighbor’s cows got into her yard again, trampled what was left of her flowers. Mr. Abbott, down the road, said he’d come fix her fence when the snow clears so it won’t happen again and his wife promised to help replant her flowers so she’s not too upset, I guess.”

Bob held his breath as you shifted closer, rested your head on his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully, but willed his heartbeat to remain steady as he swallowed. “Lizzy’s supposed to have her baby in a few weeks. She told me to tell you thanks for the gift.”

Another soft hum, this one a little more lively than the last, reverberated through his skin as you acknowledged his sister’s gratitude. “Glad she liked it.”

“Think she’s got pretty much everything she could need now. Can barely get in the baby’s room,” he confided, laughing lightly as he glanced out at the still ocean. “Grandma said they’re gonna have to store some stuff at her house, until they need it.”

A brief quiet fell over the pair of you then as you attempted to focus on your breathing while Bob made a conscious effort to keep his hands from shaking as he dusted sand from his palms. This was in no way new. In fact, he should’ve expected it - the quiet, the close proximity, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose as you attempted to gather yourself - but it managed to shock him to his core every single time it happened.

Though a small part of him wanted to linger, to allow you the time to speak when you were ready, he couldn’t help himself as he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Bob waited patiently as you considered your answer, waited with few expectations as you weighed the words carefully in an attempt to decide just how honest you wanted to be. He expected many things - a lament of how hard you’d all been training, a huff at how difficult Hangman had been, a roll of your eyes as you mentioned your mother’s latest tirade - but he felt a sort of mild surprise when you answered.

“The birdstrike.” He was the person you let in the most, the person you allowed a glimpse beyond your tough facade, but the birdstrike was something neither of you spoke of.

Nearly two weeks had passed since the incident, one that saw you both ejecting in the middle of training - one that left you with a concussion and Bob with a bruised rib - and he’d assumed you were planning to avoid speaking about it. There’d been a tense moment in the hospital, one in which you’d shared a wordless conversation, and that was that.

Really, though, he should’ve known better.

“What about it?” He wasn’t one to press, not really, but he felt the need to ask as you began drawing nonsensical patterns in the sand at your side.

“I… I know it was just a freak accident. It happens. But I was just… I was afraid,” you admitted, voice quiet over the rush of the ocean. “I was afraid of what would happen to us, to you. I didn’t,” you paused then, taking a moment to inhale a shaking breath as you gathered your thoughts. “I didn’t want that to be the end. And I know I should’ve been thinking about something more important in that moment, like my family or the future or something, but the only thing I could think about was the fact that I’m so in love with you and you don’t even notice.”

For a moment, Bob feared the exhaustion he was beginning to feel had caught up with him. There was no way he heard what he thought he did. There was no planet on which you returned his feelings, no timeline in which it made sense for you to love him, too, but the words echoed loud and clear in his ears.

To know that you’d spent that moment thinking of him, wondering if he reciprocated your feelings, simultaneously eased the ache in his chest and sent his heart rate soaring. It was difficult to do much more than blink, to flounder as he searched for something comforting to say, and he ultimately landed on the obvious.

“…you’re in love with me?” The question was high-pitched, edging on hysterical, but Bob couldn’t bring himself to care very much as he tipped his head to glance at you.

There was a faraway look in your eyes as you glanced out at the ocean, a deliberate attempt to keep from meeting his eyes, as you hummed. “Yeah.” It was defeated, quiet, almost resigned as you made a thoughtful noise. “You make it so hard to be anything but in love with you.”

Robert Floyd had been called many things in his lifetime; quiet, odd, difficult. Lovable was never a word he’d encountered. His mouth opened and closed several times in search of the right words to say, something that would adequately portray his own feelings, but all he seemed to be capable of was a disbelieving, “I… no one’s ever said anything like that to me.”

“That’s always so surprising to me,” you revealed, still refusing to glance in his direction, though he was certain you could feel the rapid beat of his heart. “It’s you. It’s been you from the moment we met and I’m starting to think it will always be you. I realized it before then and I know that this is probably a terrible thing, being in love with you when our lives are so intertwined. If you don’t…” You trailed off, pausing for a moment to gather yourself, before you cleared your throat. “If you don’t feel the same, work might be weird. Or if you do and something happens later on, it might ruin what we have. I’ve thought about it for a while, whether I should say something, and after that I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have but I figured you deserved to know.”

Those were fears Bob had, too, reasons he’d kept his own feelings to himself as he realized you’d likely be assigned a new back seater and your time together would be cut in half, but knowing that you felt the same made it difficult for him to continue upholding that line of logic.

There was always a chance that you’d be separated - that you’d be sent in different directions, across the world from one another. To refuse to act on feelings that he now knew you shared out of fear for the unknown no longer seemed like the best course of action.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, poetic words that he could share to assure you he felt the same way, but nothing felt right. The only action he felt capable of in that moment was reaching out to cup your cheek. With your head tipped in his direction, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion, he leaned in to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he confessed, voice soft as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have been for a while. There are a thousand ways this can go wrong,” he acknowledged, “but that doesn’t feel like it matters when you love me, too.”

“Can we worry about the future tomorrow? Right now, I just want to be in love.”

Bob knew that the conversation was one you’d have to have sooner rather than later but he was glad to grant your request. The future was uncertain but one thing he knew now, clear as day, was that his love was not unrequited and that was enough to get through the night.

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I started this ages ago but I finally finished it. Slowly but surely. Maybe I'll finish a few more requests before the end of the year!

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @callsignharper, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @rh3tt, @dakotakazansky, @silversprings-mp3

#bob x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #top gun one shot #top gun maverick imagine #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fic #v's fics

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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months

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I hate when people say(*writers*) when zuko is an emo bad boy. When zuko acts "emo" and "badboy" as they say it's him reacting to his trauma and abuse as a kid(most of time. Zuko is still badass. But badboy no). Is it an excuse? No. But when zuko is acting that way in canon, his obsession with honor, his yelling, his moodiness, his short temper. That is the product of having his empathy literally beaten/burned out of him by his father(and mocked and emotionally abused by Azula). The reason Zuko is doing this whole thing is because he wants to please his father. Become someone he's not. His struggle of who his father wants to be with who he is. It's because of the abuse of his father and his family. As the series goes on you get more and more flashes of the person Zuko was and the person he can become. By the end of the series it's such a great contrast and Zuko is much more happier because he's with the gaang. His family. He got out of that abusive situation he was in and finally became himself. A dorky, empathetic, caring, skilled swords men, a balanced person. Does he still have moments of anger? Yes. But over all Zuko becomes a fully balanced person.

gasp! but if we don't call zuko a bad boy, however will we make sure people don't get any ideas about shipping him with katara?

jokes aside, you're absolutely right and i roll my eyes so hard when people point to bad things zuko did, or his behaviour pre-redemption as indisputable proof of the kind of person he'd be post-redemption. like you said, a lot of zuko's actions and mannerisms before day of black sun is a direct result of the trauma he suffered, and though that doesn't excuse him - and neither does the show allow it to - discounting it entirely is to erase the abuse zuko endured and how that shaped him.

using the first half of book 3 as evidence of zuko being a supposed bad boy irks me in particular because a) the narrative makes it pretty clear that this is zuko as the worst version of himself, the opposite of everything he actually is and could be, and b) he is stuck in an abusive household at the mercy of his abusers, in an actively life-threatening situation.

zuko knows that he is in a situation where he has no real agency, freedom or control. he knows that aang is alive, that azula has turned him into a scapegoat and that his life will be forfeit if his father finds out the truth. that is an incredibly terrifying and stressful situation to be put in and it's worsened by the fact that he can't even admit it - not just because doing so would mean accepting that he gave up everything that actually mattered in the catacombs to gain nothing in return, but also because no one around him will allow him to do so.

his girlfriend can't understand his experiences or his turmoil and doesn't seem to particularly want to, brushing off his anxieties and encouraging him to stay the course. he is manipulated by his father and gaslighted by his sister, aware deep down that he is entirely under their control and that they have a vested interest in keeping him helpless, yet forced to pretend as though nothing is wrong. he is isolated from the one person who could help - his uncle - physically and emotionally, both because visiting iroh puts zuko in danger, and because zuko's choices have created a rift in their relationship.

all of this compounds the psychological stress zuko is experiencing, forcing him into a constant state of fight-or-flight, and this context is vital to understanding many of the decisions he makes and how he behaves in the first half of book 3.

(this is why i don't agree with the take that hiring combustion man is an ooc moment for zuko because even though i think the idea of combustion man himself is stupid - not to mention disrespectful to the hindu origins it's pulling from - it's a fundamentally desperate move, and zuko at this point is more desperate than he's ever been.)

that's why it's unlikely that zuko post-redemption would behave similarly since many of the factors that contributed to his anger, hostility and moodiness would no longer exist! judging zuko's future behaviour based on a time when he was constantly abused, gaslighted and threatened is just not an accurate or fair means of measurement, especially since we know what he's like at his best. the zuko we see with the gaang still has a bit of a short fuse, sure, but he's also sincere, honest, awkward, shy and far happier than he's ever been. because shocker, people tend not to act the same way in healthy, supportive environments as they do in abusive, traumatic ones. who would've thought?

people who make this argument also usually tend to compare zuko to aang, especially to glorify how aang remains cheerful and peaceful despite his trauma, and... no. just no. first of all, the show barely gives a fuck about developing aang's trauma the way it does zuko's so of course it seems to affect him less, and secondly, there's something to be said about how trauma responses like aang's are a lot more palatable and comfortable for audiences than responses like zuko's, or even katara's in the southern raiders.

anger or moodiness, or wanting to punish the people who hurt you, are not inherently wrong ways to react when you've been wronged and traumatized. praising aang for remaining cheerful and forgiving while calling zuko a bad boy for being angry and moody implies a sense of moral superiority that comes with reacting to trauma in the "right" way, which is both inaccurate and insensitive.

zuko will never be aang, and that's fine. he doesn't have to be. he ends the show reclaiming everything his abusers tried to take from him, having found himself and his destiny, in a place of healing that is all his own. that is an incredibly meaningful and powerful narrative, and the last thing zuko deserves is to have all of his complexity and development stripped just to be reduced to the tired trope of a "bad boy" when he was never one in the first place.

#zuko #zuko meta #pro zuko #atla critical #bryke critical #zutara

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creedslove · 7 months

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post-outbreak!Joel settled in Jackson with reader and Ellie and finally having time to workout his feelings for reader but still he has difficulty saying “I love you” even though he does and reader also knows he does so she doesn’t force him?👀

Post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I'm not into post outbreak Joel very much but I loved this baby ❤️

Ways Joel says 'I love you' instead of using words:

• that old broken heart of his has faced so much pain he would rather rip it off and pretend he has never cared about anyone or anything in his life

• it worked well for quite a while, but not when he found himself a family in your and Ellie, when he realized he was back into his brother's life and able to lead a seemingly normal life in the middle of the apocalypse

• so he does what he thinks he's best at: he keeps the people he cares about safe

• that means Ellie, Tommy and above all, you

• he's terrified of failing you at that, he knows he would never be able to go through that pain once more; so he makes sure you are always safe no matter where, no matter what

• sometimes it could be a little annoying to be honest; you didn't want to seem ungrateful or anything, that man acted like a guard dog, which was so comforting and reassuring when you were out in the world, but safely tucked in Jackson? Maybe, and just maybe, horses weren't as bad as Joel made them seem to be and you could easily handle them without him having to be with you

• but you appreciated his company nonetheless; you knew it was one way he found to show his feelings

• Joel was an act of service man, which means he would do anything for you, he just takes his old contractor skills and use them in order to help you with improvements around the house, fixing anything you may need or doing it around the neighborhood in exchange for something else he could gift you later

• that man can't cook, but he does make a mean sandwich and he always makes sure to prepare one for you, because he knows you're always hungry after work

• despite being so... Well... Joel, he tries his best to let you in; he actually talks to you, he just doesn't grunt or mumble yes or no like when he's around anyone else and that already says a lot about how he feels

• but what I mean is that, he lets you in as best as he can. Is he an open book? Definitely not and you already know there are things about him you'll never find out and that's alright, you don't pry into it and he appreciates it. But there are parts of his life he likes to talk about, no matter if he shares a memory of his daughter's first birthday party with you, or he just tells you which were his favorite places to eat at the mall before the outbreak

• he expresses his feelings towards you in physical ways too: no matter if a part of him still has a fight or flight response to physical touch and he still gets tense when you place your hand on him unannounced only to remind himself that you are just showing your love through that touch

• there's the sex in which he not only takes his pleasure but he also pleasures you; it doesn't matter if he is being soft or rough, if it's playful or urgent, if it's a full session or a quickie in the stables, he loves to make you cum. His tongue, his fingers, his cock, his thighs, anything that does the job he is glad as long as you are enjoying as well

• he isn't a cuddling type of man; first the heartbreak with Sarah's mom and then the whole outbreak and what mankind became contributed to that; Joel simply isolated himself from human touch, telling himself he didn't care about it and it wasn't necessary

• but he only realized how much he'd really missed it when you offered it to him; and he tried fighting it off, thinking of it as weakness, but he had a low resistance to your touch, that was for sure

• hugging, holding, stroking, massaging, kissing, rubbing, snuggling were things Joel only tried with you, after being sure he would spend the rest of his days in complete loneliness

• and you never made of fun him or pointed out the fact that he once avoided it all that and now he craved it, he loved it and he initiated it too because it showed how much he needed you as well

• so he still had a problem saying all those three words, but he could only sleep if he had you all over him

• he just loved rubbing your back up and down, feeling the softness of your skin under his rough, calloused and bruised hands

• and he isn't afraid of placing your hand on his head, showing he would like some hair playing just like a puppy would ask for pets and you just melt at how relaxed he gets when you run your fingers through his hair

• it's just Joel letting his guard down around you

• he isn't great at PDA, but he will hold hands with you, or he will have his arm wrapped around your waist and he will pull you to dance with him at a party, he prefers dancing with you to some old record in his living room, but he isn't missing the opportunity of showing everyone else how much he loves you, even if he doesn't say it

• he plays you love songs in his guitar, singing along with the lyrics even if it makes him a little shy, but he does it because it makes your eyes light up and your cheeks turn pink

• he still has a hard time saying those words, he knows he needs to improve that, but at the same time, he knows that you know and while you aren't afraid to voice how much you love him, he isn't afraid of showing it

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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divinehedons · 9 months

Text

hard to explain.

previously: call it fate, call it karma | masterlist

pairing: dilf!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: after your fall-out with the son of a texan contractor, you didn't expect to come face-to-face with the man; nor did you expect the feelings that come with him.

warnings: this is a dark explicit fic, minors DO NOT interact! once again, i am reminding you that this joel is a meaaaaanie. ginormous age gap (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), brief depiction of somnophilia, fingering, phone sex, mutual masturbation. proceed with caution!

note: thank you sosososososo much for 500+ followers! this is in celebration of everyone who enjoys a little debauchery, i hope you enjoy. you're welcome to suggest drabbles through my ask, and comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

It had to end. You knew it did. You knew it had to end not only when you saw Christopher in the arms of some other girl—you knew it had to end the morning you woke up in his father's bed, Joel Miller himself. You remember it, clear as day.

You remember waking to his tongue exploring your folds, legs already shaking. You wonder how long he had been down there, how long he had been tasting you, and you froze. You remember the way Joel smirks up at you, spreading you open with two fingers, your orgasm not far behind from how sensitive you already were.

The limbic system primarily existed with three mechanisms of responses: fight, flight, or freeze. As your vision cleared, you saw the three responses laid before you, along with their consequences. If you confronted him, you risked the exposure of your very own crime, secrets sliced open and exposed in the warm Texan morning air. If you stayed, you'd find yourself complicit in an active role for destroying a relationship that meant something to you. Therefore, there was only one option left.

You remember the way you shot up, barely getting something on when that Texan drawl emerges from the bed. Sweet pea... You don't hear the rest, shutting the door behind you in near perfect silence. You end it that morning with Christopher; over coffee after he tried to apologise to you. There was nothing to forgive.

Hell, you'd even think you were both even by then.

You left before noon, almost running away from the scene of the crime you have left with hands stained red. You didn't even notice you left a book you were reading until you were back at your parents' house, unpacking as you curse yourself.

You thought that was the end of it. But not quite. Who cares about fate or karma when both clearly wanted to mess with you?

—

You threw yourself directly into the fires of a new semester. Your days easily fill with readings and essays and everything else. You see your friends less and less. You hole up in your dorm room more often. The solitary existence, you began to think, allowed you to repent, to correct yourself. It was why you were so willing.

If only you knew how naive such things seemed.

It was early mid-autumn when you were proved wrong when Joel Miller himself knocked on the door of your dorm room. It was comical, how different Joel seemed against the backdrop of assorted university kids, frat boys, and other such cliques with his greying beard and tired eyes. It was almost comical because you didn't expect him to be here—months after your shared evening disappeared in the haze of stress and study. It was almost comical because you avoided Christopher like the plague, barely dodging out of sight the moment you recognise him anywhere.

Even in mundane things, the father was proving to be brighter than the son.

He sees you, eyes red from exhaustion, fingers stained with pen ink as the pregnant silence fills the air. You wonder what's on his mind as his eyes rake over your form. You're dressed in a campus sweatshirt and (he promised to thank a god or two) just panties. He goes to speak before you can shut the door on him. Before you could pretend and brush him off.

"Christ, sweet pea. What happened t'ya?"

That's how Joel Miller ended up in your shared room, looking over the small collection of books you had stacked up on some rickety shelving. You don't know what to say to him. You don't know what there is to say. You mumble fragments of things. "I'm sorry, mister Miller, this is not a good time..."

"Y'know, this could fall apart on ya. Shouldn't put too many things on it."

You look up at him, catching his eye once more. You feel the heat on your cheeks, feeling like an errant child with their hand caught in a cookie jar. It's strange, you think. You, who had once felt so welcomed by the same man, now look at things differently, wondering if he still thinks of you writhing against his sheets.

Because you think about it. Every fucking night. You think about his deep chuckle, that playful smirk, the orgasm you hadn't been able to recreate ever since. So, the question comes so easily to you: "Mister Miller, did you come here for a shelf?" Your shaky breath exposes you, reveals the tension in your shoulders from the idea of being so proximally close to you.

Slowly, you watch the edges of his mouth curve upwards in a slight, knowing smirk as he moves closer to you, chuckling as you attempt to back away, only for him to continue coming for you, until you feel the door press against the small of your back. His left palm moves to settle right beside your head, effectively pinning you where you are as he leans close enough for you to have a whiff of minty breath. "Why is that, darlin'? Did'ya want somethin' more?"

There is a shiver that shoots directly from your spine to your cunt, a wave of unabashed want as your lips part from his words. It's when a short laugh escapes him, moving to press a chaste kiss against your cheek, the prickling of his beard making your knees clench from expectation. "Actually, I came here to talk to Admissions about Chris and his failed major last semester. And of course, to return a book of yours."

For a moment, you think the conversation is over. Only Joel loves proving you wrong.

"But it's cute to know ya think' 'bout me, sweetheart."

Motherfucker.

The trade paperback emerges from his coat pocket, just as beaten as you had found it all those months ago in some decrepit, secondhand bookstore. You briefly catch the tile in front. The Master and Margarita. Bulgakov's opus. You gingerly take it from his grasp, managing a shy thanks just as you duck out from under his arm to place it on his desk. "I was just looking for that."

"Pretty dense read, if ya ask me." He turns to you, leaning against the door for a moment. "You worry your pretty l'il head too much." He moves to take his leave, opening the door as he steps out into the hallway with a gentlemanly nod.

"Well... I like the, um... thanks. Drive home safe."

He hums, looking around to check if there was anybody to hear his next words. But when he looks back to you, he had that same smirk that generated a tremble to the knee from you. "I hope ya still have my number. Maybe you should call the next time you're thinkin' 'bout an old man, baby doll."

And just like that, he leaves, shutting the door behind him as you collapse to the nearest seat, unbuttoning the top button of your blouse as you exhale.

What a fucking asshole.

—

You do not think of the same Texan contractor until a few days later, coming home from an admittedly awful date with some Tarantino fanboy that thought you needed help when it came to understanding Pulp Fiction. And, should anyone ask, you could honestly say you attempted your best behaviour, but eventually, there were just too many differences for you to logically accept his offer of sex back in his own (possibly) stinky dorm room.

So you walk back alone, sighing as you try not to think you made a foolish decision. You've been stuck in a dry spell, you think, considering the fact that it was Joel who last fucked you dumb. Considering it's been months of you fucking around and never really liking anyone because it's Joel you'll be touching yourself to at night.

With a sigh, you start to understand how foolish you were still being. And with a quiet gulp, you reach for your phone to dial that number you've been avoiding all week.

It's Joel, so, of course, it only took a few rings before you hear him on the other end.

"Well hello there, sugar."

You groan, leaning back to look up at the cloudy evening before clearing your throat. "Please don't be an asshole," you murmur, just as you hear him chuckle on the other end. "I was on a date this evening."

You hear the silence ensure from the other end. As if Joel immediately imagined you necking some frat boy or some other dickwad holding your breast while he's so far away, sitting down on his couch in his lonely home, so empty without you reading at the most random spots. As if he can smell how wet your cunt is and he's nowhere to be found. "It's just nine, baby doll, did you end the fun early?"

"I..." You swallow, entering your dorm room before your voice dropped into a whisper. "He... wasn't being nice..." You hang your coat as you check in to see your roommate fast asleep in her own bed, biting your lip gently. "And now... I'm back at the dorm and I have a roommate so... I'm just... I might just read until I'm tired."

"I might just be the last nice guy you'll meet, sweet pea," he teases, groaning as he adjusts himself in his spot. "And, as much fun as it is readin' about the Devil in Moscow, I think I'm much better company, no?" You perk up, stilling yourself mid-step as you replay the words in your head.

"You read it?" Already, you could feel the smile stretching across your cheeks as you imagine Joel, frowning down at your tiny book in an attempt to comprehend it.

"Tried to, doll. Too dense for an old man like me."

It's when you giggle. So suddenly and naturally that Joel feels a smile etch onto his own face. "I'm sorry, mister Miller. As much as I would like your company... I don't have any privacy right now..."

Joel hums from the other end, as if swallowed by his own thoughts. It's comfortable listening to the easy silene between the two of you, where nothing has to be said for five seconds.

Then, of course, he thinks with his cock and it gets him what he wants.

"I'm gettin' ya a room, darlin'. But you better stop with that mister Miller nonsense, got it?" You hear movement on the other end. "I'll send you the details. Call me when ya get there, sweet pea."

—

In the minutes where he has to wait for you to get where he wanted you, Joel has the time to contemplate just what he was doing to you. You, with a smile so sweet and young that it'd probably let his teeth ache if he let it. You, with your wandering, curious eyes that never asked a question. You, who he missed and hasn't stopped thinking about since that night.

If he was more honest, he would've told you that you also left some clothes from when you stayed over. If he was more honest, he'd tell you that you left your swimsuit in the bathroom beside the kitchen. But he's not honest. Actually, he's just a little bit too fucking selfish.

He'll never tell you of the number of times he breathed in the leftover scent of your skin and your perfect cunt staining the very pad of your swimsuit. He'll never tell you of the number of times he came just from the scent of you, cock in his fist, seed bursting out in powerful spurts.

He'll never tell you he could never have too much of you. And that he's been starving since you left him.

You call again, almost an hour later, shaky giggles being the first thing he hears. He tries to picture you taking in the hotel room he admittedly paid too much for. Tries to imagine if the bed was big enough, if the sheets were soft enough. If the fridge was filled to the brim with things you can enjoy. "Joel," you finally say, and he melts back into his own bed in his own house in Texas, "what the fuck, this is too much!"

He waits until your excitement wears off, smirk on his face. "Private enough for you to touch yourself, sweet pea?"

You audibly suck in a nervous breath, followed by the sound of you falling into the covers of your bed for the evening. He waits for you to respond, expecting some meek response. He doesn't know you've had a few drinks in you, doesn't know that you feel the heat of the alcohol pumping through your veins.

"Only if you touch yourself with me, Joel."

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and all the saints combined. You were getting bolder. He began to chuckle, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Good girl. You're getting better, aren't ya?" His large palm reaches down to cup himself through his sweats. "What'cha wearin', baby?"

You tell him and he pictures it in his head. You in a cute knitted sweater, your light washed jeans, your muddy sneakers. He likes to imagine the sweater to be one of his, even if he knows it isn't. He imagines his musk on your skin while you smile an dmake conversation with some boy.

"Anything under the sweater?"

"Uh..." He catches the hesitation in your voice, just slight enough, just there.

"My goodness, did you go on a date in just a sweater, baby doll? Not even anything underneath?" He tsks nonchalantly, reaching down to free his hardness with one hand, sighing in relief at the feel of some contact where he needed it. "D'you think he saw your nipples through dinner?"

It's when you squirm, much to his delight as you stare up at the ceiling. "Oh, God, I didn't even think of that..." You eventually sigh, and he waits for you to continue. "I don't know, he just... he's not quite as interesting."

He wonders what you meant by that. He wonders what to say, but you are quick to add more.

"It's not like I want to fall in love— I just..." Another sigh, the sound of movement as you roll over in bed. "I just want someone who'd do me no good. To fuck me up, just once, so I can understand it."

He chuckles, spitting on to his palm. "I can do that," he mutters, "how 'bout you take off your panties for me, doll?" He waits, judging from whatever sounds your phone picked up. "Well, don't act all demure, now. Use those li'l fingers of yours."

You obey, because it's Joel and he knows things. Because you thought you'd be getting fucked this evening. Because he paid for your time and it's the least you can do.

You listen to him as you slowly melt into the warm sheets, legs spread wide and two fingers shakily rubbing yourself. From the other end, you hear his speech interrupted by shaky grunts, some breaths, and even low, menacing growls.

"Tell me what'ya thought about, doll. When you think of me."

"Uh..." You feel a jolt of want rush through your skin as your fingers unintentionally speed up, leaving you moaning. "I-I... I think of your... your hands..." A whimper follows, making you bite your lip as you attempt to control yourself.

From the other end, Joel himself groans at the sounds you make, his own fist speeding up. "That's it... keep goin' and tell me, sweet pea..."

The image is clear in your head. His hands on your waist, cupping your aching breasts. You think of his desperate cock fucking you wide open in a way nothing satisfied you. You think of his hand tangled in your hair as he takes you from behind, held up only by his grasp. You think of his growling against your neck, teeth running carefully across the surface of your skin before he sucks a trail of hickeys down your wanton body.

You think of him telling you how good you are. You, you, and only you.

Meanwhile, he directs you between his own laboured breaths. If anything, he keeps a clear head about it anyway. "That's it, pretty baby, get one finger in for me..." The sensation is enough to make you whine, whilst he chuckles at how needy you sounded. "S'good, yeah? Pull out your fingers f'me and get a pillow between your thighs..."

It's so easy to obey when you're at the very brink of an orgasm. It's so easy to tear down the walls you built when all you ever wanted is presented to you on a silver platter. You put him on speaker, setting it on the bedside table before you get on your knees, grabbing the nearest pillow, lip bitten as you position yourself.

"Imagine me under ya, baby. Y'like my hands, didn't'cha? Imagine them guidin' you back and forth..."

You squeeze your eyes shut and it's so easy. Your hips grinding down on the pillow, cunt spread open and giving the pressure it so desperately called for. You could almost imagine Joel's cockhead, notching just quite there at the very fold of your cunt, but not quite going in.

So you grind against the pillow, pretending it's Joel and pretending he's grunting your ear, driven by praises and compliments while you cry out in pleasure.

"Stop right fuckin' now, sweet pea, or I end the call."

You pause, shakily, eyes teary as you hear the wet squelch of Joel's fist moving against his cock. "Oh, please, just let me... I was so close, Joel!" You groan, hanging your head as you chew on your lip. Your fists clench the sheets below as you wait for him to let you continue.

"On one condition, darlin'. You better stop runnin' after those stupid college boys who don't know the first thing about takin' care of you."

You take pause, trying to bear the weight of his words with the call of your cunt. You do not know how he grits his teeth at the other end, trying to hold off from his own orgasm, driven by the idea of the two of you cumming together despite being miles apart.

"I... you—"

"Five seconds, doll."

You gulp, clenching as you try and not to give in to the urge to move your hips. "Fine! Fine, fine, fine—"

"Good." He takes in a sharp breath, growling as images of you, his very own personal whore, so fucking willing to obey him, no matter what it is he asked for. "Make yourself cum for me, doll. S'alright. Such a good girl..."

You cry out, words of thanks bubbling from your mouth as you resume your movements once more. You call for him, telling him you're so close as you come closer and closer to the very crest you've been wanting all night.

"C'mon, come with me, baby. You wanna be good, don't ya?"

It's always more than enough. As if just one provocation from him is enough to send a chain reaction through you. You let him know, and he counts you down together.

Five. Your knees quake just as you hear Joel's breath grow more ragged.

Four. He says it through gritted teeth while your left hand grips on to the headboard for some sense of balance.

Three. You tell him you might not last for long but one growl for him makes you learn your place.

Two. You're begging and begging and begging, breath held and teeth clenched. He shuts his eyes before he sees stars.

One. It's so close you both can taste it.

Cum for me, baby, fuck, yes, yes yes—

For a moment, you are caught in a riptide of inexplicable high, vision going bright white momentarily before lulling you into a daze.

A beat passes. Then another.

Fuck.

You better not be falling in love with him.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #cocky!joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #tlou smut #joel tlou #joel miller

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andraxicated · 10 months

Text

Pairings: blade x reader (prerequisite au) | jing yuan x reader Synopsis: You never knew coming to this world would tie you down there forever Tags: fake dating | fluff | stellaron hunter! reader | kith kith fall in love mwah a/n: I did this mini fic to cure my writer's block but it made it worse. blade's version of this will be completed soon!

~first meeting

You easily slipped into the Xianzhou within its state of unrest and its security that was too lax for Silver Wolf's standard. You walked through the streets, admiring the bustling nightlife and feeling a sense of melancholy washing over you. You're waltzing onto an unfamiliar land by having blind faith in Elio alone, basing your journey on his word.

There's an indefinite objective here. You're just wandering aimlessly amidst the sea of people. That was until someone grabbed your wrist, effectively pulling you back to be met with gold eyes and a smile.

"Found you"

"Jing Yuan?!" You whispered shocked, ready to fight or flight. It has already been made clear that you are not an enemy, they even let Blade and Kafka escape. So why is this man holding onto you?

"Before you do something, let me tell you that you are cleared of your charges and we acknowledge that the Stellaron Hunters pose no threat to us." Jing Yuan starts to speak, pulling you to the side to avoid inconvenience to the passerby. "I just want to talk."

It's ridiculous really. Sitting in front of the general and watching him chow on the noodles. Your own dish is waiting to be eaten but you can't help but be fascinated by the man in front of you. Taking your sweet time to glance over every detail of his—hair, eyes, lips, and body. You even took note of his gait on the way to this noodle shop that he recommended.

Sometimes the rumors are true.

"Are you gonna eat?"

You grimace, finding it uncomfortable that your forces were hostile to each other before but now he's acting like you've been friends for a long time.

"No. I don't know what this is." You glance at the food and lean towards him with narrowed eyes. "And maybe you're cohorts with the owner of this place and put some kind of substance to make me spill the truth about what I know."

"What do you know?" Jing Yuan doesn't seem to care and continues to feast on his meal. He momentarily looks at you before going back to his business.

"I don't know anything. I don't even know why I'm here." You lean back with an exasperated sigh. Truthfully, you're hungry and this dish seems utterly appetizing. You take the chopsticks and cautiously take a piece, chewing and waiting for some side effect to kick in but alas, nothing came. Only a burst of flavors that made your tummy protest for more.

"Is it good?"

You glare at the man in front of you, choosing not to speak and instead focusing on the steaming bowl. A smile stretches over his lips as he watches you eat, seemingly letting your guard down until you stop and raise an eyebrow at him. Jing Yuan only chuckles and shakes his head as both of you continue to bask in the silent dinner.

It lasted until he opened his mouth and let out the most ridiculous, out-of-this-planet proposal you've ever heard.

"Can you be my fiancée?"

Needless to say, you stared at him like he'd grown a head or two while his smile is kept on his lips, patiently waiting for your response to his question.

"No. Are you kidding yourself?" The only thing running through your mind was getting out of here after you're done and making him pay for it. He has to be fucked up in the head to suggest that to you of all people.

Jing Yuan puts down his utensils and stares at you ravaging the dish. In a few seconds or so, he successfully predicts you'd choke and watches you cough up your lungs, pushing the glass of water towards you which you hurriedly gulp.

"Now that you've calmed down. Let me speak." He sighed and leaned back. "This will be just pretend dating. I ask for your assistance in this matter and in return, you will benefit from this arrangement-"

"Wait. Stop right there" You point a finger at him accusingly. "How will I-"

Jing Yuan inwardly groans 'stubborn as ever'.

"Let me finish speaking, yes? The reason for this arrangement is that my parents have recently reached out to me about marriage. They have already selected some of the finest ladies in the Xianzhou but ultimately, they'd leave the choice up to me." He left out the asking for grandchildren part as he pours himself two cups of tea, one that slid over to you. You didn't need to know that conversation anyway.

You briefly look at your small reflection before tuning back to his words.

"I have a long life ahead of me and I don't think it's the time to be occupied with marriage. I have to think about that when my job as a general is done and everything is smoothly handed to Fu Xuan. Simply speaking, I don't want it right now."

"Look here general. I don't care about your sob story or whatever reason this is happening. Tell me what's my benefit in this or I'm leaving." You shrug.

Jing Yuan stayed silent for a few moments, studying your features with wandering eyes that lingered far too long for your liking.

He suddenly said something that rocked your world at its very foundation. The purpose of your visit falls right from his very lips.

"I know about you, I'll tell you about your past."

Your lips started quivering, eyebrows coming together, and mind scattering on how to know if this man in front of you is lying. Jing Yuan just dropped a bomb on you and this one could very well be a joke. But you don't think the poker face he's donning right now is a sign that he takes this lightly.

"Proof?" You whispered, silently hoping that he was telling the truth or you'd blow this place up in an instant.

"I have pictures"

"And?"

"You're there with me."

If Elio told you about staying, then you must have had a link to this planet and the long-life natives must have also known you before. Such as this one sitting in front of you.

Jing Yuan continues. "You also have scars all over your body. You wanna know why? Because it was almost destroyed from suffering a huge injury in a fight, but apparently, you got away." Your lips parted, unable to speak and you started to unconsciously touch your arm and move your thigh if it's still intact. "You were also once mara-struck, that's probably why you don't remember anything."

"Where did you get this information? From the jade abacus? Or from yourself?" You asked Jing Yuan even though you already know what his answer is gonna be.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to tell you that later at the end of our arrangement...So, what is your answer?"

This won't come easy as he's practically dangling a carrot in front of you. You suddenly stand up but the punchable smile stayed on the man's face. Turning to leave, you take one glance at him while you weigh your options.

This was encounter something Elio failed to mention but you never fully trusted that lunatic anyway. You finally gained a lead on your self-searching journey and you're gonna do whatever it takes even if it means forming a 'relationship' with a man you barely know.

"Tell me everything you know and I'll cooperate."

~falling in love

Jing Yuan doesn't exactly know when it all started. His heart just started beating faster when you were near and he felt empty when he couldn't see you for days. The grey-haired man longed for you to the point he'd have no motivation to function when you're not visiting him.

Did his feelings start years ago when you were still mentees?—he doesn't think it matters. But one thing is for sure, each moment spent with you in the past was deeply embedded in his heart no matter how hard he tried to bury it.

And this fake relationship thing fueled his feelings even further, he feels sick to be honest. If he said no to his parents then that'd be the end of it. Why did he even drag you in it? Maybe because it was a spur of the moment decision to find you and barge into your life.

"There's someone taking photos." Jing Yuan breaks the silence and immediately reaches for your stiff hand, not letting you go when you attempt to pull back.

"What? Who are they? Shouldn't we knock them out?' At your response, he looks at you like you said murder is okay. He sighs, suddenly interlacing your fingers together and swaying them as you look at it in horror. You think you were truly horrified that your heart started to pump a little faster and your dinner felt like rising.

"Let's act like this for the meantime until they go away. Most likely they're gonna sell the pictures for the newsletters. I'll put a notice for it to stop in the morning."

But the person doesn't stop following both of you, they think they're sneaky but your senses are on high alert the whole time. If not for Jing Yuan's hand, you would've pounced on the photographer already.

"What do you think will make them go away?" He asked and at this point, he was running out of options. Jing Yuan was a very patient man but he doesn't like someone tagging along on what's supposed to be time with you.

"Beating up works but I'll ruin your reputation so cross that off." You jokingly respond and he laughs. Your lips stretched into a small smile upon hearing him.

"I know now." He whispered near your ear and stopped you from walking, your back was facing the building where someone was lurking. And for a second, his golden eyes met the photographer's who deflated on the dangerous glint he showed.

Jing Yuan's hand snakes up to your waist, pulling you closer and stiffening your body.

"Hey!"

Your hands flew to his chest in an attempt to push back. You could very well push him, separate your bodies in this shared heat but you didn't. Frankly, you enjoyed the way he was touching you and this thought made your cheeks burn.

"Let's give them a show" Jing Yuan pulled you even closer and your hands on his chest were soon going to be squished. Where else could you put your hands other than around his shoulders? He smirked at your face, finding this ordeal amusing.

"What show?"

You thought the show he was talking about was dancing. You were in the perfect position for dancing.

"This"

But Jing Yuan had other plans and was thinking very differently from you. He leaned in so close that your eyes went wide and your breathing quickened. Puffs of air from his mouth lightly ghosted over your lips, leaving your body tingly as your mouths were inches away.

"Can I kiss you?"

His question passed by you in a daze but you nod your head anyways because it just felt right. The way his soft lips enclosed against yours, gliding and feeling the smooth expanse left him wanting more. More so that you feel yourself dipping back because of his harsh lip-locking.

Yet Jing Yuan feels kind of ticked, he pulled away and saw you open your eyes confused.

"Don't just stand there. Open your mouth." He ordered as he leaned in once again. You followed what he said, opening your mouth in a raunchy expression of affection that you soon find yourself losing to. He's very much glad that you began playing with his tongue too, feeling him smile against your kiss.

You never knew it was possible to feel a burst of emotions like that—like happiness.

#i got that dialogue from the one and only cha gyeol #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #hsr x you #hsr headcanons #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanons #jingyuan x reader #jingyuan x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff

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that-one-anxious-mango · 18 days

Note

Hi love! I hope you are feeling/doing better! I was just thinking about the Days of Our Love series. Any chance we might get an update soon? I miss it!

Oh, New York. How I Love You. (1)

Summary: Austin's best girl comes to visit him in New York to cherish the time they have together before he leaves to Australia, in what becomes a very eventful two weeks together.

Word count: 8.2k

Warning: LONG POST!

Contents: Lots of fluff. Mentions of childhood trauma. Sexual Content (Oral: Fem receiving, hand job: Male Receiving), emotional situations.

A/N: Hello beautiful humans, it has been a minute. Don't drag me please. I just always take so long because I want to always put out the best content. Would you believe me if I said this went through TWO edits. Geez! But all in all, I hope you enjoy.

PS: Everyone feel free to comment, send more letter, and reblog! Much Love *hugs* Tags: @purejasmine, @wacoshuffle , @flyestvenustrap , @louisejoy86 , @unicoreads, @incorectly

______

“ Are you seriously going to take all of that to New York with you? Why don’t you just take one suitcase and then buy some outfits to wear there, ya’ know. “ Phoebe chirped from her spot laid out across your bed while flipping through a HG magazine.

“ I agree. Buy some cute outfits and surprise him that way. Then you’ll have room to bring back the clothes you buy for you and us.” Alex continued to play a riveting game of tug of war with Magnus on the floor.

Her last comment made a laugh erupt from you in the closet, “ Yeah nice try, buddy. I’m not bringing you heifers anything back but some damn keychains and the lasting scent of the smug and smoggy New York air on me the next time we see each other.” You yelled back. “ And plus it’s gonna be cold outside.”

Phoebe laughed while Alex scoffed, “ UM! Excuse me ma’am, but as a friend, need I remind your ass that this was a part of the deal. Since you’re abandoning me, The Travel Buddy, to go FORNICATE with Mr. Goldilocks in New York instead of HOME with me for the Winter Wonderland Festival. You promised to bring me back something nice to add to my outfit for the Warner Bros. charity event next month.” She recalled the promise that you did in-fact make to cease her tantrum at the time.

“ And on top of that, I’m also the one silk pressing your hair for this trip, ma’am. AND taking care of my fur nephew that you’re abandoning as well. Therefore, I DESERVE SOMETHING.” She added.

“ This is true.” Phoebe co-signed, continuing to flip through the pages.

You cut your eyes at her when you entered the room again to walk a pair of shoes over to your bursting suitcase.

“ Yeah. Yeah. I’ll make sure to bring you back something for your pain and suffering. Brat.” You muttered the last part. “ AND fyi his hair is black now.”

Alex grinned while blowing you an air kiss that you grab and pretend to smush in your hands.

“ You know you LUHHHHH me, girl.” She teased. “ Now hurry up because I don’t have all night to do this. I don’t know why you didn’t just get braids or some passion twists put in like a normal person going on a trip .”

“ What’s love got to do with it?” You sassed. In return you were met with a pillow to the side and giggles around the room. “ And don’t rush me! I’m almost done.”

“ What time is Austin supposed to be coming to get you from the airport? Phoebe questioned.

“ Noon.” You answered fighting to try and fit a scarf into your luggage. “ My flight leaves at noon and I should be there by evening. I’m not exactly sure when, I just know their three hours ahead.

“ Okay. Cool, just make sure you let us know when you’re in the car and everything. “ Phoebe noted.

You scoff, “Like yall asses won’t be watching me on 360 anyway. Stalkers.”

“ Hey! You should be happy that somebody cares enough to stalk your ass. People go missing everyone, B.” Alex mocked the line from Paid in Full.

“ Yeah. I know. I do the same thing with ya’ll.” You huffed, “ Okay. I think that’s it.”

“ Good! “ Alex jumped up, “ Now go and grab my hair bag. So we can start on this head, honey. All this dang hair.” She looked at the long blow dried mess on your head.

“ I know damn well that is not a damn hot comb.” You deadpanned.

“ Do you want the hair straight or not? We have heat protectant, so relax. Whenever we both get back I’ll come over and we can do a treatment to make sure your curls revert back right. I got this. Now tilt your head down..”

Phoebe giggled watching the two of you fuss at one another, “ Yeah you better sleep pretty tonight, babes. Head on hands, silk scarf, and turn a fan on so you don’t sweat.”

“ I'm aware.” You sighed, settling into the chair and began to listen to Phoebe as she started her descent into her plans while you would be away.

“ OW! ” You jumped at the sudden sharp burning feeling on your scalp, “ Alex really.”

“ I barely touched you! It’s the steam.” She giggled at the scrunch on your face, “ Hehe. My bad.”

______

The Next Day…

After a couple goodbyes to your fur baby and helping your driver wrestle your large suitcase into the back of the car Austin had sent for you against your wishes, you found yourself tiredly weaving about through LAX.

You’d already pre-checked everything, so once you went through security and went to make sure your gate existed, you’d found a very overpriced coffee place and ordered a little danish and iced chai to settle the nerves.

It wasn’t until you were in a seat by the terminal happily scrolling away on your phone that you got a text message from Austin.

Sweet Baboo: can’t wait to see you. enjoy your flight. love you. :3

Once you boarded, the flight had been fine and you’d done exactly what was predicted of you.

You’d read for a good couple of hours and then slept a good chunk of the rest of it. The flight was smooth with no delays.

When the pilot announced your descent, anticipation began to build up in your chest

Quickly you pulled out the mini mirror from your carry on bag and went to fix your minimal makeup and undid the head scarf on your head to reveal the flowy silk press that fell down your shoulders. You combed it out and fixed your little cute airport outfit in preparation to get off.

Seeing as you were in first class, against your wishes also, you were one of the first to exit the plane. You made it to baggage claim where a nice older gentleman with a sign had begun setting your luggage up for you on a cart and offered to push it down to the terminal.

“ For Miss Y/L/N.” He’d smiled.

“ Yes, I’m her.” You nodded.

“ Wonderful I’ll be helping you with your luggage. Compliments of a Mr. Sweet Baboo.” He told you with a grin on his face.

You stifled a part of your laugh as the two of you began walking through the airport, “ Did he really ask you to say that? “

He nodded, “ Yes, He did. But I don’t mind. One of the more milder things I’ve been asked to say in my time doing this job.”

“ I can only imagine.” You laughed.

“ Quite cold outside. But you look bundled up.” The man smiled.

“ Oh yeah. It’s the Sahara in here. I think the breeze will actually help cool me down.”

The sharp chill of the evening wind swiped at the little exposed patches of your face as you made it to the extremely congested pick up and drop off area. It felt near impossible to try and find which car belonged to your boyfriend in the sea of what felt like a thousand black SUVs littering the street.

It wasn’t until you spotted a familiar head of slicked back raven hair stuck out one window that you recognized your boyfriend as he made his way out the car.

A squeal unintentionally left you and Austin smiled a mile wide as he opened his arms up to you, “ There’s my girl.” He laughed, catching your body that was flung into him. “ Hey there. Mr. Sweet Baboo.” You giggled into his neck, placing a kiss there.

He’d taken his time unlatching you from him until he offered to quickly help the man load the trunk since he’d spotted what he believed to be the shine of a camera in the distance.

You didn’t have time to breathe once you both were inside and the door shut. The partition was already rolled up and once the car started to move, and so did Austin’s lips against yours. Your body had suddenly felt like it was on fire with a flame that only he could put out.

Your hands were attached to his face while his own were free to roam the parts of your body he’d missed in his absence.

A small moan escaped you at the sensation of his hand kneading your thigh under his touch and pulling you further into him to the point of being in his lap now.

“ Fuck, I missed you, Baby.” He groaned.

“ Not as much as I missed you.” You mumbled in-between kisses, hands feverishly grabbing at anything on his body that would keep him tethered to you.

He smiled into your lips, “ Is that a challenge? Because believe me, before this car even hits the main streets I can prove that I missed you most.” He whispers, hand sliding to rest just under your abdomen. Your breath hitches and the most indecent thoughts begin to pool around in your brain.

You giggled feeling his fingers sliding up your cardigan, “ Okay..okay..okay. I believe you.”

“ I can’t wait to get you home, all to myself.” His words came out muffled, but had all the same effect as you found yourself pacing your breath and clenching your legs together.

“ You look cold, sweetheart. Let me warm you up.”

The ride had been agonizingly long with Austin teasing you every chance you got.

When the two of you arrived at Austin’s brownstone, your eyes couldn’t register just how beautiful it looked from the outside. Almost like something you’d see in movies like Autumn in New York or Maid in Manhattan.

“ Aus it’s beautiful.” You mumbled out taking in the glistening snow that littered the cement steps beyond the black steel gate.

“ Thank you. Can’t wait to get you inside of it.” He smiled, pecking your lips before getting out.

To your protests, he’d gotten all of your bags himself and took them inside as you huffed and whined, “ I wanna help! It’s my stuff. Aus! It’s too cold for you to be out here doing this by yourself.”

“ Nope. Just get your cute ass in the house. ” You rolled your eyes at his smug grin.

The minute you stepped inside the foyer of the home Austin had literally swept you off your feet, dipping his face into your neck to administer kisses.

You laugh and thrash in his arms the entire way to his gorgeous couch, ridding yourselves of your coats.

“ So, first, “ He plopped down next to you, instantly reaching his arms out to pull your body into his lap. “ Are you hungry? I know you didn’t eat on the plane. And before we do anything else I wanna get you fed if need be.”

“ No, not really. “ You leaned back against him, “ I think I’m just hyped up on the adrenaline of getting to see you.”

“ Yeah me too.” A finger traced along your neck just where your hair fell past, , “ Damn. Look at your hair. I knew it was long, but I’ve never seen it like this. It’s beautiful.”

“ Thanks. I wanted something a little more manageable since our itinerary is a bit packed. It’s not big and unruly like usual.” You played with your ends.

“ Stop it.” He scolded, “ Big? Yes. Unruly? No. I love your hair in its natural state babe. It’s cute. I love watching you take care of it. It reminds me to stay up on my shit.”

“ Yeah, no 2 in 1 conditioner for you buddy.” You reached to pick at one of his dark locks close to his ear. It was still taking some getting used to.

“ Hey.” He turned to nip at your hand, “ There wasn’t any 2 in 1 shampoo before you and there damn sure won’t be any now that I’ve been exposed to the good life.”

And a good life it was! You’d exposed Austin to all the skin care, shea butter, oil pulling, essential oils and everything else needed and now mysteriously you had products coming up empty all the time.

“ I know babe I’m just teasing. Excited for this weekend with you.”

“ So am I. Gonna’ feel good spending time with my girl. Kinda miss my little buddy though. “

“ I know me too.” You pout, “ But I promise you he’s living his best life with his Aunt Alex. He’s already had a pup cup, two treats, and last I knew was taking a nap in her office on a pile of heated blankets.”

“ You’re going home to a diva, baby.” He smirked, imagining the little dog buried in blankets fast asleep. “ So, back to this itinerary that was mentioned.”

“ Yes! It goes by day to optimize experiences and time.“ You pronounced proudly, bouncing on the couch.

“ Really? “

“ Truly. I wanna make the most of our time together.” You replied.

“ Okay, do tell. “ His eyebrows raised in amusement, “ What’s on today? “

“ Today’s agenda is light because it’s the first day and I already knew I’d be tired. So the only two major things on the list are having dinner with my Sweet Baboo and unpacking.”

“ Nice! And we can make all that happen. Let’s take a look at the other days.”

And you did, together you examined the well planned and thought out itinerary in front of you.

He nodded , “ Looks good. We may have to make a couple of adjustments if that’s okay with you. I have some surprises in store.”

“ Ouuu! What?! Tell me.” You practically bounced in his lap.

He smiled, “ If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it.”

“ Not even a hint.” You whine, slightly puckering your lips, and playfully batting your mascaraed eyelashes.

“ No. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. But you’re cute though, baby.” He pecked your lips.

You groan, “ Fine! On second thought I am hungry. Feed me seymour.” You goofed trying to imitate the rich voice of Levi Stubbs.

The lines of his lips curl, “ C’’mon then Audrey II. You can keep me company while I start dinner.”

And you did just that perched on a chair at the island while the two of you made small talk.

“ That can’t be all.” He softly laughed, “ I haven’t seen you and I wanna really know how my girl is doing? Tell me. I know there's something.”

“ I mean there really isn’t much to tell, baby. I told you. It’s just been work..writing…Magnus..and missing you.”

“ How about that lease? “ Austin said, rolling out the dough in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed, “ What about it?”

“ You talk to your building manager about whether you're renewing or not this spring, yet? ” He inquired about your plans for your apartment, which was really his not so subtle way of asking if you’d thought anymore about his offer to move in with him after Elvis was estimated to wrap this summer.

Although you and Austin had been together for almost six months at this point, you weren’t exactly sure if you were completely ready for that kind of commitment yet. Granted when the projected time of wrapping would come around the two of you would be coming up on a year, you still had some things holding you back about the whole ordeal.

“ It’s on the to - do - list…” You stretched, “One of the many adult things to eventually be handled.”

“ Uh huh. I see. “ He mused,” Well like I said before. I wouldn’t mind coming home to you and Magnus every night. And when I’m home you're either always at my place or vice versa. In my eyes it would just make sense.” Austin explained.

Your hands fidget with the brown place mat in front of you, “ I hear you and I understand, babe. And I promise I’m really taking all of this into heavy consideration. “ You settled.

“ Good, I can live with that. Now get up, come over here and help me by cutting the sheath on these asparagus.” Austin instructed, while heating up his rosemary and pepper butter mix in his skillet.

Your eyes widened at the opportunity to help, while you could cook you were unashamed to say that you had hard limitations of what you could and couldn’t make. Whereas Austin on the other-hand was practically a chef with the way he could make his assortment of dishes. Which in turn made him the primary cook of the relationship while you were always happy to be captain of the clean up crew.

“ Oh yay. I get to help.” You hopped up, “ And you're going to let me use a knife! Sick! “

Now becoming skeptical, Austin cocked his head rethinking his offer of a sous chef position, “ On second thought maybe you should stick to being my honorary taste tester. Quite good at that job, peaches.”

“ Nope. I’m helping. “ You rolled up your sleeves, “ Now prepare to see some clean beautifully mutilated asparagus, babe. “

“ Jesus.” Austin groaned, placing the steaks in the sizzling pan.

______

Your dinner of sirloin, seared asparagus, garlic and herb mash potatoes, and bread you couldn’t pronounce right was absolutely splendid.

And now being presented in-front of you was just the dessert to top the night off: A thick and nice slice of strawberry drizzled NY cheesecake.

Favorite of yours.

As you began to indulge in your sweet treat you teased yourself by wondering if there was any way the night could possibly get better.

Then it hit you…you could knock one of your tomorrow's itenary items off tonight without any worry.

So, yes. It definitely could.

“ You know what would be really good, right now.” You mused aloud at the island.

Still turned Austin asked, “ And what would that be, sweetheart? “ He continued loading the dishwasher.

“ A nice hot relaxing bath. “

“ Uh huh.“ He sounded

Grabbing the towel off the stove handle, Austin walked over to the island to lean in.

“ Okay. “ He simply said, “ Your wish is my command.”

“ Really? “ You nervously scraped your fork against your plate.

“ Of course. This trip is all about you. So, if the best girl wants to end the evening with a bath. Then it’s my job to make it happen.” He washed his hands.

“ Just stay here and finish your dessert. And then come up. Alright? “ He instructed, coming around to stand in front of you, taking your face into his face.

“ Okay. “ You nodded.

He returned the gesture and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead on his way out before heading upstairs.

You could hear the faint sounds of water running as you struggled to calm your weirdly nervous stomach and finish your dessert.

By the time you made it up stairs and into the bathroom the lights were dimmed and the aroma of jasmine bath salts and vanilla bubble bath filled your senses.

You weren’t spooked when you felt him appear behind you.

“ Let me take this off of you.” His fingers danced along the curves of your side as his hands moved along to lift your shirt over your head.

You sucked in tiny breaths the rest of the time he took to undress you. Ever so often you’d catch his eyes and smile, turning away to blush.

Once you were as naked as the day you were born, he gently helped you step into the creme claw foot tub.

“ You wanna get in? “ You sheepishly grinned. “ Plenty of room.” Kicking up your feet over the side to expose the suds and bubbles that dripped down your legs.

Knowing that he’d already restrained himself while helping you undress, Austin wasn’t too sure he’d be able to handle any accidental slips of the hand or touching by any means without immediately yanking you out the bath and into the bedroom for some extremely intentional touching of his own to you.

“ No, I’m okay. This is about you. So, enjoy your bath, babe.” He smiled leaning over to grab at the loofa.

, “ Stop it. You’re fine.” Austin playfully scolded, watching the pout spread on your face.

“ If you want we can both sit on opposite sides. “ You offered just as a lightbulb went off in your brain, “ OH! Or you could lay with your back against my chest and my arms around you like Vivan and Edward in Pretty Woman. I’ve actually always wanted to do that.” You confessed your little fantasy.

“ Plus. You did say this weekend was about me.” You moved to place your hands on the tub and rest your head on them, “ And what I want right now is for you to come in here with me. Now,“

Austin’s cheeks warmed in affection and amusement as he watched a twinkle appear in your eye at the idea of getting to live out another one of your little rom-com fantasies. And how you’d suddenly gotten a bit bold in your request.

He sat there for a moment contemplating when ultimately he decided who would he be if he couldn’t be the person to fulfill your fantasies and desires.

He blew out air, “ Fine. I’ll be the Edward to your Vivan, babe. But just know the accidental touching and moving needs to be kept to a minimum. “ You watched as he stood up to pull his shirt above his head and shimmy his pants. “ I mean it. I am a man of virtue after all, honey. A delicate flower you could say. So, I expect to be treated as such.” He teased.

You didn’t have a smart remark to quip back at him because your mind and eyes had both been polluted with the images of him bare before you in all his glory.

Instead you mustered a playful cat call, “ Yeah take it off! Look at those cheeks! “

All Austin could do was smile and shake his head as he walked over and maneuvered himself to get in and sink in between your legs. Your arms found a home around his shoulders and your lips made quick work of placing innocent enough kisses to his skin in places you knew may be less…inflammatory than others.

And you could tell by the low and almost soulful groan Austin let out once he was fully submerged in the calm of the warm water that this was something he needed too. “ Feels good..” He mumbled letting his head back to rest in the valley of your naked breasts.

“ Good.” You replied, as you too were enjoying the warm intimacy of the atmosphere.

“ We don’t do this enough at home.” Austin sounded as you used the soft silicone loofah to scrub and wash his chest.

“ What? “

“ Relaxing…soaking like this.” He rubbed at your knee that was exposed out of the water.

“ I agree.”

“ So..” He squeezed the sponge he’d grabbed and dipped into the water on your back, “ You excited for tomorrow? “

You nodded, “ I am. I’ve visited here once on a family trip and another time for a work thing. But I’ve always felt like I’ve never gotten the true experience. And since Aunt Kiki lives here now I’ve been wanting to visit her. But of course she’s away on a work trip this time of year.”

“ Mhmm.” A hum can from Austin as you move your hand lower.

“ Watch yourself.” Austin mumbled, grabbing that hand to interlock it with his.

And you did, you made it a point to keep your hands clear of the southern equator of your man. That was until you felt him let guard with a sigh and push back into you.

This was the moment you took your opportunity.

A breath hitched, “ Y/N…what are you doing? I thought I made it very clear the stipulations of this arrangement. “

You crane your head down to rest your lips just above the shell of his ear as your hand continues to move toward its desired destination.

He tensed against you when you went to lightly grip at his now half-hard cock in your hand. You moved it up and down a bit before stopping and using the pad of your thumb to quickly run across his tip.

Involuntarily Austin lets out a small hiss at the sensation, “ Alright, that’s enough of that. “ He hand comes to try and halt yours. But you use your leg to stop him.

Instead you ignored him, keeping your attention focused on guiding your hand to stroke him up and down. The water of the tub has begun to sway from the movement, “ I’m not done.” You whispered in his ear. “ You said this weekend was about making me feel good.”

Your tongue darts out to lick and bite at his ear, “ You wanna know what would make me good?

“ Yes.” His answer sounded strained against his voice. By now he’d ever so slightly begun to move his hips upward into your hand, beginning to get lost in the sensation of his touch.

“ What would make me good right now is for you to be a good boyfriend and cum all over my hand for me.” You say, mindful to increase the pace of your hand. “ Please can I have it, baby. Will you give it to me? Will you give your cum, baby? “

“ Oh fuck.” Austin’s head dives back against your breast and his eyes are tightly shut as his body begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure. Your words doing something to him, of course he’d heard you be verbal during exchanges, but never like this. “ I’ll give you anything you want.” He groaned.

“ That good, Aus? “ You used your free hand to come from its place on his chest, to grip at his chin and guide his head to loll to the side. It gives you access to attach your lips to his in what could only be described as a sloppy exchange of love. You swallowed his grunts and groans in your throat while he allowed your soft whimpers to enclose his lips.

By now the water of the tub began to slosh with bits beginning to fly out of the tub and onto the floor from the impact of Austin’s hips coming to meet the pace of your hand.

He reluctantly forced his mouth away from yours, saliva collected on his cheeks. “ Fuck, just like that. Baby you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing this.”

“ Yeah? That’s what I want, baby. Give it to me, Aus. Show me how much you missed my touch, baby.” You moaned dipping your head to suck on skin you’d long ago identified on his neck to be his “ sweet spot.”

With that he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you watched as his face contorted into a beautiful display of pleasure and angst, his eyelashes fluttered as he shot his thick ropes of cum in your hand. You keep stroking him through it until a hand shoots out to stop you. This time it succeeded as you ceased your movement, and watched his chest heave up and down.

Your hand rubs at his shoulder to help ground him and bring him back to you.

After a couple of minutes with a huff he speaks, “ Was this your plan all along? To get me in this position, baby. So you could use me this way, as your play thing? “ He accuses.

“ Guilty.” You whispered, thinking about how this all was in-fact a long game in getting him here. You knew had it been in the bedroom or anywhere else he would have undermined your advances and made your own pleasure the main focus as usual. But you figured that if you could essentially “ trap him “ into a smaller more controlled environment where you could take the reins a bit, you could finally have a moment to adore your boyfriend the way he always makes sure to adore you.

“ What am I gonna do with you?” He groans and you smile, placing a kiss on his head.

Eventually with no more funny business involved, you both take turns cleaning each other off before he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. And then comes back for you, plucking your wet body out of the water.

Routines are done and pajamas are thrown on quickly before he ushers you both to lay in the big king size bed.

You relish the opportunity to sleep in his arms after so long. It seemed like it’d been a day and forever. When really it’d been about five and a half weeks.

“ Quite the little show you put on there in the bathroom.” He whispered.

“ What can I say, I missed seeing the faces you make like that in person. All those facetime calls just don’t do those flushed cheeks or sweet strangled moans justice,baby. Needed to see it.” You shot back, and went to lightly play at the dip in his shoulder.

“ I see we’ve grown quite bold in my absence.” He muttered, trailing his eyes to your thigh that peaked out from the slightly raised shirt.

“ So what about me? When do I get my own personal refresher of your moans and the way your body arches off the bed when I use my fingers to touch your spot? “

At his words, you could feel your heartbeat begin to race and the all too familiar aching and yearning you’d been feeling throughout your body return.

“ I don’t know. I haven’t felt like that in a while. I’m not as good as you with my hands, baby. “ You casually say.

“ Well. I don’t particularly plan on using my hands tonight. I’ve got a bit of a different approach since we’re so eager to try out new things. “ He said.

And then he said something that knocked the wind out of your chest.

“ Instead I want you to come and sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

It would take you many moments and labored breaths of shock before you mustered up your bewildered response, “ You want me to what?! “

“ You heard me.” Austin laughed from underneath you. You were straddling his lap while he lay flat on the bed and you were pretty sure that maybe he wasn’t getting enough oxygen down there as it was.

“ Aus. You can’t be serious. I-I’m not a Polly Pocket sized girly, babe. I have a nice amount of meat on these here bones.” You countered, “ I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“ What? You don’t think I can handle you? Is that it? “ His voice purred, fingers dancing up along the curve of your spine.

“ Of course not! “ You clarified, “ It’s just that…that.” You huffed trying to gather the right words together. “ I want you to be able to breathe , babe. HOW WILL YOU BREATHE?! “

You watched his face turn in amusement at your flustered state, “ Don’t you worry about that, babe. I’m a big boy. I’ll figure it out. And if not…. when they find me you tell them I died happy and stuffed in-between the sweetest place on earth.” He said, immediately you felt your cheeks flush, “ These thighs.”

“ AUS! “ You softly slapped at his chest, “ Be serious.”

He laughed ,“ I am. They’ll find me with a permanent glistening smile.”

You groaned trying to shimmy off of him but his hands at your sides stopped you. “ Uh huh. From when good ole’ Rick and Mortis set in.”

“ I’m not asking again, darling. “ You yelped when he grabbed your thighs and moved you further up his chest, close to your neck, “ Get up here.”

“ But Aus I- “ You cut yourself off with moan when you felt his hand come to fondle at your breast.

“ What was that? I’m sorry I may not have caught that.”

“ I-w-well-”

He had your virgin ass absolutely flustered.

“ Take em’ off. I want em’ off of you.” He mumbled,scooting you further and tugging at your night shorts.

Obliging, you somehow managed to rid yourself of your shorts and his shirt. At that moment it took all the courage not to fold right there.

You leaned forward against the pretty dark wood headboard to grip at its edges in a fair attempt at stabilizing yourself in your squat.

The plan had been to lower yourself down nice and slow, but leave it to your boyfriend to be an absolutely impatient brat to knock the wind out of you by slamming you down against his face.

You went to make a remark of protest but soon found that the second his tongue touched you, you’d been left unable to form long coherent sentences. A simple moan of, “ Austin!” Was all that was mustered.

He groans as he begins to eagerly lap and lick at your drenched pussy. The vibration alone makes you tighten your grip.

Using his hands he bares down pressing you further into him as you cry out from this new intense feeling. He's calculated with how he uses his tongue to tease the entrance of your opening before gliding it back to suckle at your poor throbbing clit.

The more and more sucks, the more your juices uncontrollably leak from you, until now the sounds of lewd slurping and your moans come together to echo off the walls.

“ That feels so good.” You mewl, unable to control how you begin to grind your pussy against his face.

He lifts up a little bit to mumble, “ Yeah? Am I making this pussy cry with my tongue? She talking to me, honey?” He sends a long lick up your slit making you jump.

“ Yes! Your tongue is so good, baby. It feels so good.” You cried out.

You could practically feel him smile into your pussy when he closed the gap, obviously satisfied with desensitizing you this way.

From there he really started to lay into you, when he laid his tongue completely flat on your clit you couldn’t help the pleas that spilled from your mouth, “ Yes! Yes! Yes! Just like that! Aus, PLEASE.” You began riding his face with more urgency.

A hand came to smack and grip at your ass to help you with your motion, by now your stomach had begun to build up into that all too familiar knot of delicious agony.

“ Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! “ You squealed, “ Aus I’m close! I gotta get up.” You tried scrambling off him and out of his grip, out of fear he truly wouldn’t be able to breathe from how hard you were about to flood his face.

Little did you know that was all the motivation he needed to go harder, using his tongue and mouth to take a grip on your clit that outta to be illegal. He sent a series of smacks to your exposed ass to let you know that you had better not go anywhere.

Tears sprang in your eyes, “ I-I. It’s too much! “

You white knuckled the headboard as your body began to heat up and spark with your impending orgasm. “ Aus I’m about to cum all over your fucking face!”

“ That’s it, baby. Let go for me.” He moaned out against you.

Gripping your ass harder he helped grind you faster against his tongue until he felt your body begin convulsing above him, “ I’m fucking cumming! Aus! Yes! Yes! Yes! “ You hissed, feeling the floodgates overtake you.

After cleaning you up with a couple more licks and slurps, he catches your limp body and gently lowers you to lay next to him.

Through hazy pleasure ridden eyes you look over to see that previously mentioned glistening smile set across his face as he lays triumphantly next to you!

You feel the bed dip as he disappears into the bathroom and returns with two damp towels: one for you and one for him.

He goes to really clean you up before hoisting you in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom to pee.

After everything is said and done, he brings a now sleepy you into his chest, arms creating a warm cage of comfort, “ So, will I be doing that again this weekend?” His hands rub your back.

You nod and he smiles, “ That good? “

Voice cracking you whisper back, “ Could you not tell by the way I left Lake Erie on your face that it was fuckin’ amazing.”

“ Just checking. “ He laughed, “ Next time we’ll try for the Mississippi, yeah?”

_____

Next Day

Madison Square Garden

New York Rangers vs Philadelphia Flyers Game

“ I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I’ve always wanted to go to one of these.” You squealed looking out at the crisp white ice while you were surrounded by thousands of other people.

Cup of water in hand and popcorn in lap, you’d dressed in thick wool lined jeans , a Flyers jersey, converse, and had your baseball cap to the back in spirit of your first time seeing a Flyers game in person.

Austin laughed and took a sip of the wine he’d gotten. “ I’m glad we’re enjoying ourselves. I keep forgetting you told me you were a little hockey fan. Would have never guessed.”

You laugh, “ Yeah. When I was little my Aunt dated the guy who did the sound at the games for the Blue Jackets so we always got tickets. She’d go and take us up on the weekends and I can remember just always having the best time. Ever since I’ve become quite fond of hockey. The smell of the wet ice when they redo it, the chill of the arena, the way the glass rattles when the players zip by. I love it.”

Austin noticed the way you hadn’t taken your eyes off the ice the entire time you were talking about this little passion of yours. A smile passed his face in satisfaction that he’d learned something new about you. For most of the rest of the time he got more pleasure from watching you watch the game then actually paying attention to what was going on himself.

The way your nose scrunched when a shot was missed, your little squeals when your team regained the puck, and even how you held your own and weren’t afraid to get back with surrounding audience members who may have said something to you out of the way.

This was hockey after all.

By the time halftime rolled around you were content at watching your favorite little segments.

Kid of the game, celeb look alike, and your personal favorite: The Kiss Cam.

The cliche track by Sixpence None The Richer echoed throughout the arena as you watched couples old and young peck each other and giggle for the camera.

It warmed your heart, but what happened next made it drop to your ass and roll onto the ice.

Because suddenly, your face made up in about a million pixels on the big kiss cam screen, there you and your grinning boyfriend were on display for the whole world.

People around you had begun to cheer and you could see Austin’s face was turning a shade of candy apple red.

“ Aus.” You whispered, half covering our face. The encouragement and cheering only grew louder and you felt Austin’s hand come to remove yours from your face. “ Hey. C’mon we can’t let everyone else have all the fun.”

“ Just pretend it’s you and I. Only us. Okay?” He whispered, taking your face into his hands.

You nodded and took a deep breath closing your eyes with a mixture of excitement and nerves pinging through you as your lips connected with his in a sweet little innocent kiss.

The whoops and cheers intensified around you and when you pulled away you saw the wide smile Austin had his arm around your waist and you both waved to the camera one last time.

After you were off Austin wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your head, “ Always wanted to kiss a pretty girl on one of those things. Never thought I’d ever get the guts to do it. Guess dreams come true.“ He laughed.

You could still feel your heart pounding in your chest a bit thinking about how you’d replay that moment in your head for who knew how long to come, “ Yeah. They really do, they really do.”

He placed a kiss on your hand and the both of you returned your attention back to the screen just as an older couple appeared.

Eventually after some shouting, another small bag of popcorn, and twenty autographs from Austin to some fans later, the game was over, the Flyers beat the Rangers, and the two of you happily walked along to the car.

“ Home for a nap. “ Austin suggested.

“ Yes Please.” You yawned, feeling the excitement of the day beginning to catch up with you.

______

Austin’s Brownstone - 8:23pm

“ Well, Good Evening sleepy-head.” Austin greeted your groggy figure as you sat up with a pile of blankets sliding from you.

“ Evening?! “ You yawned while looking around at the dimming sky outside the big bay window in the living room. “ My gosh, babe. How long did you let me sleep? What time is it? Don’t we have reservations? “

You looked over to the loveseat where Austin had his feet propped up with a book in hand.

“ Woah. “ He held up a hand, “ Slow down. Take a breath.”

“ I let you sleep because you needed to rest, Babe. It’s about eight-twenty five right now and I called and canceled the reservations we had because truth be told I’m a little tired too. “

Your bottom lip stuck out and you went to protest but he held up a hand.

“ So, instead I thought maybe you’d want to order in. Your choice. Thai, Italian, Mexican…” He threw out the options. Nothing sounds good.

“ Do you know any good sandwich places? “

______

Forty five minutes and two wrapped hero sandwiches later…

“ Two-truths and one lie go.” You randomly said, reaching for one of his fries.

“ Hmm. Alright. Well, I once shared the same production lot with Beyoncé and met her. “ He began, “ Two, I used to come home every single day in elementary school to eat lunch with my mother, and I once played a sad tree in my acting group’s play when I was younger..”

You threw up your grease ridden hands, “ Automatically I'm gonna assume that the Beyonce thing is unfortunately untrue because I don’t think you would’ve held out on me like that. And I’m almost positive from that picture your sister showed that you were a sad bird in that play. So,I don’t know…maybe the lunch thing. I wouldn’t think an elementary school would let a kid walk home like that? Right? “

Austin smiled, “ Well my dear. Unfortunately this one you’d be wrong because all through elementary school I did in fact have a standing lunch appointment with my mother everyday.” He revealed.

“ Really?! And the school just let you go? “

He nodded, “ Yeah. We started doing it because of how shy I was. I couldn't really make friends at that age because of it, so sometimes it was hard being in school. Everyone knew everyone in town so the walk home and back was a breeze. We always ate P & J’s and watched cartoons or old westerns.” He recalled the fond memories. “ I know with work and other things at the time I’m sure her doing it wasn’t exactly ideal, but she still always made it work.”

Your heart swelled for him as you reached out to rub his shoulder.

“ Awe, Austin, that sounds so sweet. She seemed amazing. “

“ Yeah, she was.” He sighed, “ She really was.”

“ Wish I’d had a mom like that.” You sighed, “ I wish I would have had a mom period. “

As soon as the words left your mouth and you saw the look on Austin’s face, you instantly felt embarrassed.

It wasn’t like Austin didn’t know about your situation, it just wasn’t something that you had in-depth discussed before. And you also really weren’t trying to make this seem about you either. It was just a little slip of word vomit.

You backtracked, “ I mean I do have a Mom. Just, it’s rather I just…have no idea where she is. Sorta…”

Noticing you were about to say more but held yourself back, Austin encouraged you to continue, “ Hey. It’s alright. Tell me.”

“ Okay well. From what I know, my Aunt said after I turned a year my mother wasn’t really around much. Started going out and hanging around with friends all hours of the night, and she just really didn’t seem that interested in Gracie and me anymore. Even disappeared for days at a time.”

“ She left my Dad a note one night. On it she explained that she couldn’t imagine another day of being a mother. Specifically she said that it was draining something out of her that she was afraid she’d never get back. That we’d all be better off without her being there, herself included.”

“ I was only a year and some change and Gracie was almost five. And Dad did the best he could raising two girls by himself. He didn’t date much or anything really. Just was a devoted GM Plant worker and an even more devoted Dad.”

“ A couple years later he found out that she’d remarried, moved to a part of Spain, and had more children. So, he made the decision to go to court and officially file for full custody of us. Which she didn’t contest, naturally.” You continued, “ I don’t think he ever really got over it, unfortunately.”

“ He never talked about her at all. And when he passed away when I was thirteen from congestive heart failure we went to live with our grandmother in Georgia. Gracie graduated and decided to move to Texas to pursue a career in public service. And after graduation I got a scholarship to Arizona State, so my grandmother moved and then decided to travel the world.”

“ If you don’t mind me asking, has she ever tried to reach out? “ Austin questioned.

You nodded, “ Only once. Not to me though.” You clarified.

“ When Gracie got married. Somehow she’d found Gracie’s address and sent a letter. Gracie read it but never responded. And she never told me what the letter said either. Her silent way of still protecting her little sister. I guess.”

“ Would you have wanted to know what it said? “

“ I don't really know. Maybe? Maybe not? “ You answered. “ She wrote it just to Gracie. So, I'm sure there’s a reason for that.”

“ Being honest….” You started feeling your lip begin to quiver and eyes water at the incoming thought. “ I always wondered if I was the reason she left? Like maybe I was hard to take care of or if carrying me did something negative to her. I-I *sniffle* It doesn’t sound like she wanted to leave when she had Gracie, so why after me? Why didn’t she stay? “

Your vision had full on fuzzied out now and your cheeks were slick with tears, turning his head to look at you all Austin could do was feel his heart ache.

He tried to reach out but you instinctively moved away trying to cover your face, “ Don’t. It’s fine.” Your voice cracked.

He frowned, “ No it’s not, babe. You’re upset. My best girl is crying. Nothing is ever fine when my best girl is crying. It’s very far from fine actually.” He fussed moving toward you still.

“ Hey.” He cooed, while reaching over to gently grab you and pull you onto his body, “ Hey. Shhh. It’s okay. Let it out.” He encouraged, rubbing your back and placing a kiss to your head as small sobs still escaped you.

A hand went to your head to hold against him as he offered you all of his love and comfort.

After a while you’d began to settle and quiet at the warm feeling of being enveloped in his arms and calmed by his words. He hated that you were feeling this way. In situations like this it truly made Austin appreciate his mother, he couldn’t have imagined ever having any other maternal experience then what he had. He wished everyone could have had that.

“ Hey, look at me.” He cupped your face and wiped at the tears while you sniffled, “ Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life, sweetheart.”

“ I’m lucky to have you in my life.” He affirmed while making sure your eye contact never broke, tears forming in his. “ You hear me? I love you.”

You nodded, clinging to his shirt, “ I love you too, Austin.”

He smiled, “ Of course. Snot and all.” He teased making you giggle and shriek away from him.

He went to lean over and hand you the tissue box he’d snatched.

“ Now, let’s get into bed. How about a shower and a movie? Any movie you want.”

At this declaration you perked, “ Any movie? “

Now a bit skeptical, Austin still nodded, “ Any movie.”

______

“ Okay, I changed my mind. Any movie but this one.” He groaned.

“ Austin.” You mirrored his groan.

“ Fine.” He mumbled dragging you into his arms as the beginning of Lilo and Stitch played on the screen.

“ You really like this movie, huh? “ Austin chuckled into your headscarf.

“ It’s my favorite! I was obsessed when I was little. I had a lilo and stitch lunch box, bed set, and all kinds of stuff.” You explained.’

“ And have you ever been to Hawaii? “

“ Nu uh. Haven’t gotten around to it. Maybe one day.”

“ Uh huh.” Austin yawned.

Maybe one day real soon…

#daysofourlove #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black reader #austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine

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alexjcrowley · 2 months

Text

The thing about brocedes still living in the same building makes me wanna munch my walls because on one hand I am convinced they're basically playing gay chicken except the first one to move out of that condo is not gay but implicitly admits to be psychologically weaker so now the fight is not about who wins the championship but who can recover more swiftly from 2016 and pretend he's unbothered by losing one of the most meaningful relationships of his life, it's psychosexual and unbelievable and uselessly painful and nobody really wins so they're both fucking ridiculous, they really said after the most heartbreaking friendship breakup ever documented on live tv let's be a little silly let's prolong our rivalry to levels only reached by american sitcoms

On the other hand

On other hand it makes perfect sense. They're not gonna move out because moving out would mean letting the fight die which would mean getting out of eachothers lives forever. Because when the fight ends we can't go back to being friends so I'd be forced to simply leave you behind and I can't do that. Let's keep up the fight, let me keep us for a little more, out of spite if not out of love. Yes I hate you and I can't even say your name and I won't call you on your birthday but please let me pretend it's out of my hands if I see you in the hallway one morning and then I hide behind a door. Until we live in the same building I have an excuse to see you without admitting I want to. Without testing my pride to see if I had the courage to come to you when we had no chance to meet on the stairs anymore, because I don't think I would allow myself that and I know I would suffer tremendously for it. We can't be a part of eachothers lives anymore because I've hurt you too much and you've done the same, we can't go back, but please don't let me move forward. You won't speak to me anymore but let me at least see your face once in a while. Not on posters or tv or internet, your face, without filters and the perfect lighting, with eyebags and imperfect hair and anything other than the press-trained smile because that is- was my friend, the man on tv- I don't know who that is. And it's my home, my home, understood, you can't force me out of it like you forced me out of your life so you move first if you want to move but I don't want to. It's my home and you were my friend and I'll be damned if I let you take anything else away from me again. I can't bear you in my life and I can't bear you out of it. Let's keep things muddy and confused and ridiculous, let's not ever put an end to this. Remind me everyday why I hate you rather than go away and force me to think maybe I still care about you more than I have ever hated you. Do not let this heal, because who knows if one of us will ever have the courage to go back to this car crash to see if there's still something that can be saved. I will stay here, forcing you to look around before you leave your apartment and check the flight of the stairs to see if I'm coming up when you need to go down, like a monster always hidden in a dark corner, like a ghost I will haunt you. I will force my presence into your life, if not in your home, at your table, in your living room, then in the corner of your eye, in a set of steps you could never not recognise, in a shadow approaching the hallway. The hurt will persevere and so will the love, in this new wretched form. We swore we would always be at eachothers side, we never said how. No, I won't move out and I won't move on. Allow me to force you to do the same.

#brocedes #it's missing them hours #it's munching drywalls hours #it's hitting my head on the wall hoping the physical hurt will distract me for the emotional hurt hours #something something the love was there and all it did was make this worse #their whole *agitates hands in the air* resonated with me more than I would want to #I stay awake at three am thinking about them #Sophocles is rolling in his graves because he couldn't write a tragedy about them #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1 #formula 1 #long post

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wri0thesley · 6 months

Note

For your ask prompts: Kunzea with Wriothesley? :D

K - Kunzea (power): “C'mon, love, we both know who’s in charge here.”

cw: fem reader ("atta girl"), vague allusions to sexual assault, dub-con, yandere

You're trembling, and you know he can see it.

He has the nerve to smile. He's looking at you like you're a kitten puffing up their tail before being put in a basket for the first time; the kind of smile one has for a poor little creature who's just too silly for its own good. Your grip on the blade tightens.

"Don't come any closer," you tell him, and your teeth chatter.

It had taken you weeks to be able to get a hold of anything that could do some real harm. Watching Wriothesley in his office after he'd called you in for some infraction or another (these infractions always end in punishment; in his hand against your bare rump, in your body bent in half over his desk, in his grip iron tight around your waist as he dances with you and the gramophone scratches through some old love song), memorising where he kept his things in the hope it would serve you in the future.

"Put the letter opener down," he says to you, his tone remaining almost genial, "and I'll pretend that you're not threatening the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide."

"No," you reply, voice pitching too high, and you make a pathetic little thrust forward at the same time as you take a step back. There's nothing solid in between you - and in your attempt to get away from him and put some distance between his body and yours, you reach the wall, your shoulders bumping against the shelf of books set into the stone. One of them tumbles over your shoulder and you wince as it hits the ground and the fragile binding gives out, the weak glue separating cover from pages. "I-- I won't let you--!"

"That was expensive," he says, mildly. "Another six months onto your sentence for wilful destruction of property? You poor thing."

"I-- I'll serve my sentence," you say to him, and though you wish you sounded sure of yourself, your voice trembles like the needle on his gramophone. "But I won't let you--"

"Won't let me what, sweetheart?" He asks, taking a slow step towards you. The sound of his heavy boot sole hitting solid ground almost sets you into fight or flight - the sound of his handcuffs rattling and his chains clinking makes your stomach twist. "Won't let me take care of you? Won't let me love you?"

"You don't love me," you say to him. He's getting too close to you. You can smell the scent he wears on the air; something like sandalwood and freshly brewed tea. "You just-- you're just a monster--!"

His face twitches. He takes four or five quicker steps, and suddenly his hand is fastened bone-crush tight around your wrist - the one holding his engraved silver letter opener. You cry out, his fingers rough against the sensitive skin - handcuffs in their own right.

"You don't think I love you?" He growls, so low he sounds like a wolf. "You think you'd survive a minute out there without my protection? You think that the inmates aren't just raring to get their teeth into your pretty soft skin and show you what it's supposed to be like for new blood here?"

"You're . . . the things you do to me--" Your voice is clogged with tears.

"Maybe I should let them have you," he snarls. "You'd come fucking crying to me begging for a spanking instead if I let some of the criminals in here lay their hands on you. Could even get your cell reassigned; somewhere close to the tunnels so they have somewhere to take you none of the guards will hear you scream."

Your courage is running out, sand dripping through an hourglass. Your grip on the letter opener is faltering. You think about the side-eye glances you get in the cafeteria sometimes, the whispers that stop when you come near.

You'd always assumed it was because he had singled you out like this. Oh, it's not public knowledge - but there's something easy to work out about a prisoner called to the Duke's office who often leaves it lips-swollen and limping a little.

You had never thought it might be because Wriothesley's favour protects you.

You wouldn't need his protection, if he hadn't started this in the first place.

"Well?" He probes. "Do you want that? Do you want me to stop loving you? I can, if that's what you want. I could stop loving you and watch you get torn to fucking pieces."

Your body is wracked with shivers. The air in his office suddenly feels close and heavy; you are reminded, more than ever, that you are in a prison at the bottom of the sea.

You shake your head mutely, your eyes flashing to the hard-won silver prize in your grip.

He eases up, just a touch.

"C'mon," he says, smiling again. "Put it down. We both know who's in charge here, sweetheart, and it's not the one trembling like an otter with its paw caught in a mekafish corpse."

His fingers loosen up on your wrist and he presents his gloved hand to you, palm up. Those eyes fasten on you with rigid intensity, and you know he is waiting for your decision.

The wolf, or the villagers who are ready to form a mob for you at any moment?

You place the letter opener in his hand.

"Atta girl."

At least the wolf is a monster you know.

#ask game #yandere for ts #genshin impact posting #drabble #writing #dark content cw

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auroravictorium · 1 year

Text

snow on the beach (pt. 2) (k.b.)

Summary: while snow falls over ketterdam, kaz wins a fight against one of his worst enemies with the reader's support.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker & reader (mostly established relationship) Word Count: ~2.8k Warnings: kaz battles his touch aversion, very minor mentions of drinking, mentions of drowning, mentions of death of a sibling, and lots of inner turmoil but it does get better Genre: angst w fluff at the end!

Author's Note: hello hello! sorry for the delay on this part. i meant to have it up yesterday, but i got busy w work and uni assignments. i was screaming while i wrote this, and i hope you guys love it <33

part one grishaverse masterlist

You examined the new tattoo on your forearm as you exited Amalia's parlor. The frigid air stung against your skin, but you didn't pull your sleeve down yet. The sight of the tattoo entranced you. You'd given your blood, sweat, tears, and almost your life for this; seeing it made the pain worth it.

Kaz had been silent since the almost-kiss. Aside from rolling up his sleeve for Amalia to reference his tattoo for yours, he was perfectly still and quiet the whole time she added the ink to your skin. He seemed lost in thought, and you weren't sure whether you should ask about it.

He mutely led you out of the alleyway and onto the street, then crossed the uneven road onto the sidewalk along the harbor. You trailed after him and took your spot at his side. Once next to him, you put the six inches of space back between you and snuck a glance at his face.

"Don't do that," he said quietly, just for you to hear. The city was awake once more, and he didn't want anyone listening in. He didn't need you in even more danger if someone figured out who you were to him. It was bad enough that you were passing through disputed territory next to him. He was sure there was at least one Dime Lion nearby, salivating at the thought of taking both of you out.

He picked up the pace, eyes sweeping the streets. You sensed the sudden urgency sweeping over him and jogged to keep up.

"Do what?" you asked, rolling your sleeve back down. You knew not to question the urgency. That was just Kaz. But what was it that he didn't want you to do?

"The distance." Because I failed to kiss you, he silently added. Because you know I want to be close to you but can't. He felt like a failure of a... whatever he was to you. He didn't like 'boyfriend.' It felt like a word he would use if he didn't feel so damaged. It felt like a kind word, and he wasn't kind. He didn't want to pretend to be, and he didn't think you wanted that from him either.

You looked down at your boots, curling your fingers into your palms. A blush crawled up your face. "I'm sorry," you said softly. You stepped closer and brushed your elbow against his as you walked. "I didn't mean it that way. I assumed you... wanted space."

He nodded tightly to accept your apology and kept walking. His cheerful mood from earlier had entirely disappeared, but not because he was upset at you. He was angry with himself. He felt like he was losing the war on his fear, and he wondered what you saw in him. Why did you want to be with him when he struggled to touch you? He was also moody and violent, and he choked whenever he tried to open up. He was the kind of person he didn't think you wanted to be with, and his failed attempt at kissing you had only confirmed that fear. At any moment, he expected you to open your mouth and end... whatever this was, and he would lose another person he cared about to the harbor.

The two of you walked in silence until you reached the Slat. As you turned to say something, anything to break the silence, Kaz went inside. You stood still for a moment, surprised by his easy dismissal of you after spending the entire morning together. You stared after him, heart aching, as he limped past a few Dregs waiting for his attention and up the flights of stairs to the attic.

Suddenly, the warm breakfast you envisioned upon your return to the Slat didn't seem all that appealing.

You went to your room and flopped onto your stiff mattress, squeezing your eyes shut and digging the palms of your hands into your eyes. Maybe that would block out the thoughts of the almost-kiss so that you could think coherently about what you could do to repair this. Unfortunately, trying to avoid it only made you think about it more.

You were worried about Kaz. He didn't like to talk to anyone about what he thought or felt, and he was also impossible to read. You had no idea where his mind was. He was upset, but that was all you could gather from the suffocatingly silent walk back to the Slat and his disappearance into his room.

Maybe you had pushed him or made him feel like you needed him to touch you to be happy with him. Maybe you had gotten too close and made him feel like he had to try to kiss you. Pushing him was the last thing you wanted; if that did happen, no wonder he needed space.

You were happy without much physical contact. You were content with the brushes of hands and secret gazes at the Crow Club. All you wanted was his occasional smile, reserved just for you in the seclusion of his room, and the tap of his cane against your shoe to tell you that he cared. You wanted him for who he was and wouldn't change anything about him. He'd taken you as you were two years ago, bloodstained and a shell of a person. It was only with time that you'd gotten to where you were; Kaz had done nothing to force that transformation, and you would never try to force him either.

You only wished you could ease the pain of whatever had happened to him when he was young. Kaz didn't deserve to be fighting all the time. Nobody did.

The next few hours passed in a blur of reading a book Kaz left in your room a few weeks ago, tidying up your room, then working your shift at the Crow Club. It was your unlucky day to deliver drinks around the Club while men gambled away their life savings at the tables and leered at you as you passed. Usually, you didn't mind their boisterous laughter and foolish behavior (after all, it put kruge in your pockets), but today it irked you. Maybe it was the early start to the day or the fact that you skipped breakfast and lunch. Or maybe it was because Kaz was watching you from wherever he was in the room, surveying the action and monitoring the behavior of his patrons. No matter where you moved, those piercing blue eyes were on you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

As you ducked behind the bar to prepare another tray of drinks, a cane thumped behind you and made you jolt in surprise. Per usual, you hadn't heard him coming.

You turned to face Kaz, a bottle of watered-down liquor in your hand. He'd changed into all black; instead of a black vest lined with gold thread, he wore an all-black vest over a black button-up. And, naturally, a top coat even though it was sweltering in the Club.

Your mouth went dry with nerves. "Hey," you said. You started to pour more drinks, awaiting a response. Kaz didn't speak and instead gently tapped his cane against your boot, turned, and marched off toward the back exit of the Crow Club. At least he was clear he wanted you to follow him this time.

"Cover me?" you asked one of the newest Dregs tending the bar whose name you hadn't learned. You grabbed your folded coat from a shelf beneath the bar and slipped away after Kaz.

After pushing through clusters of gamblers waiting for seats, you made it into the crisp air. Kaz leaned against a wall, his pale skin standing out starkly against the grimy bricks. His eyes settled on you as you emerged into the night, but you weren't looking at him. Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at the sky.

Snowflakes had started to flutter down over Ketterdam. They caught the moon's light, making them glitter as they swirled through the air and landed on buildings and the East Stave. The canal had frosted over sometime during the frigid day, and the snow created a sparkling coating over the usually murky waters.

Time seemed to slow as you took in the strange but beautiful sight of snow falling over the city you'd come to call home.

You nearly forgot that Kaz was there until he shifted his weight and unhitched himself from the wall. Your attention turned to him, and you were surprised by the anxiousness you found on his face.

"Hey," you repeated. You stuffed your hands in your pockets. The fear that you'd pressured him to try to kiss you nagged at you from the back of your mind, so you kept your distance.

Kaz clutched his cane so tightly that his gloves strained against his knuckles, and he exhaled a slow breath that clouded in the air. He nearly suffocated from the words in his throat. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. I'm sorry I can't give you what you deserve.

"Earlier," he started, settling for saying something else while he battled the habit of keeping his feelings sealed away. "You didn't do anything wrong." It was me. It was Ketterdam, which damaged me beyond repair. And I know you resent me for it.

A weight lifted from your chest, but you still hesitated before stepping closer. Only a foot between the two of you now. You fidgeted with your coat, absently brushing your fingers over the forearm where your tattoo lay underneath. You admired the flecks of snow on your sleeve before they melted into the fabric while you considered your words. "I worried I pushed you," you admitted. "Getting as close as I did. And made you feel like you had to try to kiss me."

Kaz closed his eyes and inhaled the smoky city air, tinged with sweetness from the snow. "I wanted to," he breathed, letting the words out with another cloud of air. His breath smelled like the good liquor hidden from view behind the rows of cheap stuff. He'd taken one shot for courage and one because he was nauseous at the mere thought of trying to tell you this.

His words drew you in, and you fought to keep yourself from stepping too close. Eight inches between your chests now, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. Your breathing stuttered as you looked up at him, searching his face. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

He didn't open his eyes as he continued. "I wanted to kiss you. Today. Yesterday. The day before. The day I helped you put the necklace on." His lungs burned as he forced the words out. But I'm broken. I'm weak. I don't know how to fight my fear, so I hide it, and I hide from you.

His thoughts were almost too much. He wanted to turn away, to take back every word he said and protect his heart. Seal the cracks in his armor. The shots had done their job too well.

Kaz opened his eyes and found you standing only six inches from him. It was always six. Six inches was a safe distance, agreed upon by the two of you five months ago, before you started to threaten the defenses he'd thrown up around his heart. You hadn't even done so deliberately. You'd been cautious and respectful and maintained those six inches even when he wished you wouldn't.

Those six inches suddenly infuriated him. He hated the terror that burned within him and kept gloves on his hands. He hated how it kept you far away. He hated that he'd been working himself up to do this since that morning when he sensed the snow in the air through the ache in his leg, and he was still terrified. He hated that despite knowing that you loved the snow and that the first snow of the season would be the perfect opportunity for this, he still struggled to take those steps forward.

It nearly startled him when his rage obeyed his summons and flared up so brightly that his terror cowered.

Kaz took the chance.

The air shifted, and you were unprepared for the sudden fury in Kaz's eyes. You wanted to shrink under that look, but you held your ground and his gaze. Kaz stepped forward and closed the distance. He paused when you stood chest to chest, his neck craned so that his lips were mere centimeters from yours. He paused, hesitation flickering across his face in a display of uncertainty.

It was the same look he had earlier, except with the addition of snow landing in his hair and on his eyelashes. The sight would have made you laugh if you hadn't been entranced by his closeness or waiting with bated breath for his next move.

You didn't dare move closer or further away.

"Kaz," you breathed, intending to ask if he was okay, if he wanted this, if he was doing this because he thought it was what you wanted. But his eyes had you spellbound, and you forgot what you wanted to say.

"Can I?" he said. His voice was rough, raw with desperation. He could do this. He needed to prove to himself that he could fight his fear and win.

You nodded, a slight dip of your chin. You understood. Kaz didn't tell you everything, but there were some things he didn't need to explain to you. Especially after five months of something.

Another beat passed. Another. Another.

Kaz took a deep breath. The water was there now, rising as he hesitated. It lapped at his calves and rose to his knees. It threatened to jerk the cane from his hands and sweep him to the bottom of the harbor.

Before it could take him, he kissed you. His nose bumped against yours, his hands were fisted on top of his cane, and he hadn't a damn clue what he was doing, but he did it. The harbor swirled violently around him, tugging, soaking his clothing. It did not approve of his disobedience.

He focused on you. Your lips were soft and warm against his, and your fingers found the lapels of his jacket. He could feel your chest rise and fall against his and your heart thundering away through the layers of clothing separating your bodies.

You were alive. The water wasn't there. It was only you and your breathing and your pulse. The thought kept him from spiraling right then.

You tightened your grip on his lapels before you pulled away, not wanting to push your luck. Your breathing came a bit faster, and blood rushed to your face. Kaz looked like he wasn't quite sure what happened, but he didn't seem to regret it. That you could tell, anyway.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, taking a step back to put some space between you. Reluctantly, you released his coat and dropped your hands back to your sides. Concern bloomed in your chest when Kaz didn't respond immediately, and you worried he'd pushed himself too far.

He nodded slowly. The rage that fueled him to kiss you was gone, replaced by an ache in his chest and the sensation that he couldn't get air into his lungs. He leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, looking up a the sky. He could feel your eyes on him, and he forced himself to speak. "I.. need time. Before I can do that again." He didn't regret it, but he recognized the weight on his lungs as a sign that he couldn't do it again anytime soon. There was too much residual panic that he wanted to work through first.

You leaned against the wall next to him and gently nudged his boot with yours. "Kaz?"

He looked down at you, expecting disappointment on your face. There wasn't any disappointment or anger to be found, and his shoulders loosened.

"I'm proud of you," you told him. You brushed your fingers across the hand on his cane and offered him a small smile. He won out against his fear, and you couldn't be prouder of him. "And you've got snow in your hair."

Kaz's lips quirked, and he tapped his cane against your shoe just so you knew he appreciated your words. He needed them more than he could admit. "Shouldn't you be back inside by now?"

"Shouldn't you be running your gambling house instead of kissing me?" you taunted, flashing him a grin and slipping out of the alley and back into the Club.

Behind you, Kaz tilted his head to face the sky and allowed himself a moment of the peace he'd seen in you when you saw the snow falling. His eyes slipped shut, and he breathed in the cold winter air.

It was the first time in a long time that Kaz felt like he wasn't drowning.

(part 1, if you missed it) TAGLIST: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @tonberry-yoda

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Note

Hiiii! I love the seven days a week series! For a Drabble I was wondering if you could go more in-depth on jk comforting oc after a drop! I love you writing btw!

A/N: this is set during Day 1

It's a little upsetting to see your reaction to abandonment like this. Because unbeknownst to you, even the way you drop tells him a lot about what he's dealing with beneath the surface of what you're trying to pretend you are.

You're not even crying. You're just taking it, soaking the situation up instead of letting it out like you should be doing. He's seen his fair share of people drop before- he's dropped himself before, even in the position of the Sub, and he remembers how he'd absolutely bawled his eyes out into the arms of his friend back then.

But you're just.. quiet.

So he's extra careful as he brushes out your hair, drying it on the lowest setting of the hairdryer to make sure it's not too hot. He's gentle in the way he makes sure to touch you, reminding you that he's around, that he's available if you do want to break apart right now.

Though he's got a feeling that that's gonna take some time and work to get you comfortable enough with him. And he's right now more determined than ever, as he pulls you closer, feels you slowly relax your muscles as your body deems the situation safe again to break out of your fight or flight mode.

And as you fall asleep, he can't help but notice that even when asleep, there's this terrible hint of unease on your face, brows a little scrunched up, eyes shut closer than they have to be.

And he wants to create an environment where you don't have to look so mad when you're dreaming.

He wants to be your safe space.

Because he knows he can be.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine

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purplecoffee13 · 5 months

Text

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 4*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N faked their break-up when they got back to the wedding, and they haven’t seen each other since. But Y/N can’t handle the silence, and decides to confront him.”

Wc: 5.2k

Tropes: semi-enemies-to-lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: angst, overdue confessions, possessiveness, feral!Harry, elevator sex, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), overstimulation (slightly)

A/N: The final part is here!!! I hope you enjoyed this little ride. Thank you for the likes, reblogs and comments. I just wrote this in one sitting, and I haven’t actively proof read it, but I wanted to upload it anyway and I’ll go over it again tomorrow. Enjoy!

It has been three weeks since Harry and I flew back home. After our adventure in the broom closet, Harry’s entire energy had shifted and he was being distant, except when we needed to prove to everyone that we were a couple.

The flight was nothing short of excruciating, and a part of my soul, one that I had decided to lock up for my own sanity, hoped that the plane would never hit the ground. It had become evident that once back home, everything would go back to how it used to be. That stupid flight was the last time I could pretend Harry and I would ever stand a chance.

I was in awe with how fast I'd fallen for him, but seeing him around his family, having him touch me in the ways he did, and watching his eyes sparkle whenever he looked at me. I'm positive I'm making half of it up, especially because I've been reeling over everything that happened over the past week.

Harry and I had agreed, before we even stepped on the plane to Italy, to just tell our friends that it didn't work out once we got back. To say that we got into a fight on the way home, and we were back to hating each other's guts.

At the time I wondered how I was going to fake being heart broken in front of my friends, but I didn't have to lie. Zoey and Natalia were shocked to see how affected I was by this supposed break-up. They never said 'I told you so', but I know they were thinking it. Nonetheless, they stayed with me, talking about it all night.

I managed to twist the story to fit the narrative Harry and I told everyone. I just needed to talk to someone about the whole situation with Ophelia and how I felt foolish for ever thinking we'd have a shot in the first place.

A week after we got back, I saw him in the hallway of the literature building. He doesn't take any literary classes, so I was startled when I saw him standing there. He was alone, and looking at me, but he didn't walk up to me. I tore my gaze away from him and walked into the classroom. I still don't know what we talked about in that class, but I remember sitting by the window to watch him walk to the engineering building, hands buried in his pockets.

Thirty days have passed, and I'm still not entirely over it. Zoey and Natalia asked me to go out for drinks tonight, and I reluctantly accepted. I need to get out of this house and start moving on from the confusing mess I worked myself into.

We meet at a local Irish pub near the campus. Upon arriving, I almost immediately spot the girls sitting in one of the bigger booths. As I near, I spot a few of Malcolm's friends, and my ex himself in the booth too. Zoey sees me and comes running as fast as she can, pulling me away from the table.

"I am so sorry!" She begins, a stressed look on her face. "We texted you that he was here, but we weren't sure if you'd get them in time. I swear, we didn't know he was coming."

I throw her a smile, then pull her into a hug. Zoey stays still first, but slowly wraps her around me too. When I get out of the hug and look back at her, her wide eyes are filled with question marks.

"I really don't care, but thank you for trying to warn me." I rub her arms soothingly. I still sound sad, I know that, but I can't help it. Maybe a beer will help me relieve some of the weight I've been feeling on my shoulders these past few weeks.

"You really liked Harry, didn't you?" She asks me, and I nod, because it's in the past now so there is no point in denying it anymore. "Even though you dated for such a short time."

"He just... I don't know, Zoe. He felt so familiar, and I thought that meant something..." I shrug, feeling my heart strain as I talk. "But it didn't. My mistake."

Zoey gives me a sad smile, and suggests to go get a drink. I agree and we walk to the bar together, where we both order some kind of special beer we've never tasted before. We get caught up in a conversation, and our huge glasses are half-empty by the time we get back to the booth. I greet everyone, blowing a kiss to Natalia who sits in the middle of the booth. She shares the same worried look as Zoey, but at the sight of our faces, she relaxes a bit.

I feel Malcolm's burning stare on me. He is sitting with his arm around another girl, slouched back, fiddling with his empty glass on the table. I don't gift him the satisfaction of meeting his eye any more than necessary, and pick up the conversation with Zoey where we left it off.

An hour goes by, and no one dares to mention Harry so far, which makes me a lucky girl because I don't want to hear about him right now. But I think my mind jinxed it, unfortunately, because over Zoey, Natalia and my laughter, I hear Malcolm's voice say something I didn't even know I was dreading until the words come out of his mouth.

"Did you see that blonde chick Harry was with the other day?" He asks Noel, one of his idiot friends, who has always hated me for some reason. Noel nods intently.

"Oh yeah she was insanely hot, where the fuck did he even get her from?" He replies, and even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel the smirk in his voice.

But I don't really care about the malice with which those words were spoken. All I can think about is the word 'blonde', and how much I wish it isn't who I think it is.

I take a deep breath and finish my beer in one go. I have taken note of the awkward silence that dominates the table, but I don't let it get me self-conscious.

"I have to go." I say to Zoey, and start moving towards the end of the booth. She moves along with me and gets out of the booth so I can get out, but she looks concerned.

"Don't let Mal get to you. He's a jerk." She pleas, and I shake my head.

"He isn't getting to me. I just need to go, I need to see Harry." I explain, even though I'm risking the chance that Natalia and Zoey will physically restrain me from going.

"I'll drive you." I hear Natalia say from behind me. I turn around and see her getting out of the booth as she throws on her jacket.

"Where are you guys going?" Noel asks, a bit of an angry tone in his voice. Natalia turns around and scowls at him.

"To find guys whose balls have dropped."

With that, Zoey and Natalia escort me out of the pub, and we giggle as we get into the car.

"Okay, where does he live again?" Natalia says, getting her car GPS ready. I give her the address, which is actually quite close to the pub, and in under five minutes we have arrived at his apartment complex. I've never been here before, but I keep that to myself, of course.

"All right," Natalia and Zoey turn around to me, who is sitting in the backseat. "let us know when you're inside and if you want us to wait, okay?"

I nod at them, and they cheer me on as I get out of the car. Anxiety fills me as I make my way towards the door, and I feel like I might just throw up as I ring the bell. However, Harry doesn't answer it. To my luck, a woman opens the door from the inside, and holds the door for me so I can walk inside.

Utter fear and excitement make my body shiver as I stand in the empty elevator, waiting to reach the seventh floor where Harry lives. I speed walk towards his front door, but once I'm in front of her, I get increasingly more anxious about knocking.

What if Ophelia is still here? What if they're inside together? I'd look like a fool. Hell, I already do. What part of me even assumed he feels something for me in the first place. For all I know, he doesn't give two shits about me.

But the second I take a physical step back, I shake my head. No, I need to talk to him.

I knock a couple of times, but there is no answer. I stand there for a minute, then knock again. After three minutes of standing there in silence, my shoulders start to slump. He's not here. But there is a string of motivation that pulls me along anyway, and it makes me pick up my phone and dial his number.

Much like his door, he doesn't answer the phone, and I am connected to his voicemail. I take a deep breathe as the peep reaches my ear.

"Hi," I softly say when the peep has faded and it's up to me to leave him a message. "I... I'm uh, I'm at your apartment, but you're not home— Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have had to leave this voicemail."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the awkward trailing off, and clench my jaw to shut myself up before I say too much stupid shit.

"But uhm, I heard you were with— never mind. Can we talk? Let me know, okay?" I stumble, before hanging up. I sigh, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity as I walk back to the elevator.

When I'm back at the car again, the girls are quick to jump me with questions, but their voices fade at the sight of my disappointed face.

"We'll drop you off at your apartment, okay?" Natalia says as Zoey grabs my hand and squeezes it. I silently nod, feeling too stupid to talk or move.

It doesn't take long to get to my apartment, which is on campus. I huh the girls goodbye and make a beeline for the elevator, wanting to get into my bed as soon as possible and watch movies for the rest of the night.

When the elevator reaches my floor, I am quick to step out, but my eyes widen at the person I spot.

At my front door is Harry, whose head shoots towards me at the ping of the elevator. His eyebrows raise at the sight of me, like he's relieved to see me. In a matter of seconds, he's standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to say, my mind cloudy from the surprise of him standing at my front door after I just came back from standing at his front door.

"Making up for my stupidity." He says without missing a beat, a sad look in his eyes. It looks an awful lot like the way he looked at me in the broom closet as his energy completely shifted and he emotionally closed himself off from me for the rest of the trip.

"D– did you get my voicemail?" I ask him, but he shakes his head. I stare at him, doe eyed. Freaky.

"I was just at your apartment. You weren't there, and I thought you were with... Malcolm said he saw you with a blonde girl and I... oh, I don't know I'm rambling." I wave it off, shrugging my shoulders.

"I wasn't." Harry leans down to meet my eyes, and when he does, he says it again. "I wasn't."

He cups my face with his hands and waits for me to respond to him. I nod, softly, my stomach turning at the touch of his hands on my face, and I fight the urge to close my eyes.

"Look, this whole thing is stupid. I caught feelings, and I think I saw things and found meanings that weren't there." I confess to him, the tension in my body already starting to fade away. "I just got weirdly jealous of Ophelia. I mean, here I was with this crush that had been developing for a couple weeks, while she has this deep history with you. I know I can't compete with someone like that."

Harry frowns as if I'm telling him lies, and it gets me a little bit insecure.

"But, I don't know. I guess I just wanted to apologize for if I made things weirder than they needed to be." I give him a half-smile. "So, sorry."

It stays silent between us, for a couple of minutes, but then Harry let's put a short laugh. My cheeks begin to heat up at the sound of it. Is he laughing at me?

I roll my eyes. I thought he was serious about talking to me, and now I feel stupid for what I just said. I go to walk past him, but he doesn't allow me to.

"Let me through." I demand, trying to push his arm away, but he just shakes his head.

"No."

"I'm not going to stand if you're just going to laugh at me. Let me through, Harry." I argue, but he doesn't budge. I groan loudly, then turn around and walk towards the elevator. I hear his footsteps behind me , but I ignore them.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching me as I push the button from the elevator over and over again, as if it has any effect on the speed with which it will arrive.

"Getting away from you." I grit through my teeth, a little sense of victory washing over me as the elevator door opens. I have no idea where I'm going, but I'm currently opting for tattling Harry to the janitor so he'll get kicked out of the building.

Not so much to my surprise, he follows, standing in front of the buttons. He smirks lazily as I try to move him away, and eventually manage to push the '1' button. The door closes, and I go to turn around, but Harry pulls me back against him, and suddenly the elevator starts shaking a bit, and we come to a halt. I push Harry's arm away from my waist and turn around to see his hand still around the emergency stop. My eyes widen at the realization of what he just did.

"What did you do?!" I cry out.

"We weren't done talking." He says, face turned serious again.

"We were." I argue, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes at me, just like I did before.

"We were not."

"Well, I was!"

"You can be so difficult sometimes, do you know that?" He tells me, voice strained with irritation.

"Says the guy who stopped the elevator!" I fight back.

"You won't hear me out." Harry reasons, and he's right. I don't. I'm too mad to hear him out right now. So, I don't respond to him with anything but a scowl. He takes a step closer, and I instinctively take one back, tearing my eyes off him and instead staring at the ground.

"And if you don't hear me out, you wouldn't know that Ophelia was never here. I haven't seen her since the wedding. They probably saw me with someone from class." He tells me, and while I feel relieved, I also feel like an idiot for ever having the plan to let janitor Hector throw Harry out of the building.

"And you also wouldn't know that when I was eighteen, I went to this pool party, and I saw this girl in a lilac bikini, playing volleyball in the pool with a beer in her hand," He steps closer again, and I let him. My brows knit and I meet his eyes. "and I fell in love with her right then and there."

I remember that party. I didn't know he was there, too.

"But she was dancing with someone else, so I hooked up with this girl named Marie. And when I went on a date with her, I discovered her best friend was the girl from the pool party." He explains, and I scoff. What a pretty fairytale like story, too good to be true. Harry shakes his head slowly, and then cups my face with his hands again.

"I swear to god, Y/N. I've liked you from the first time I laid eyes on you three years ago. I was young, and stupid and I'm sorry you lost that friendship because of me. I shouldn't have made a move on you while dating someone else, that was stupid and I can't take that back. But I got too excited with the fact that I could finally talk to you."

"You worry about me and Ophelia's history. Well, I've wanted you for three years. I've just been waiting for even a sliver of a chance, and I promised myself I wouldn't fuck it up when I got it." He tells me, and the generosity in his voice makes me want to cry. "I just got a bit nervous, after what happened those two nights. I didn't want it to be a one time thing. But I acted too distant, I shouldn't have done that. But I swear, from the moment I saw you, it's been you. Not Ophelia or anyone else, just you, okay? And if you don't believe me, let me add that my parents actually don't know Leila's gay."

I take a deep, shaky breath, unable to take my eyes off of him, and then push my lips onto his. It's sudden, and it's needy, and it stems from the overwhelming urge to be as close to him as I possibly can. I can't articulate what I feel but I can show it by the way I kiss him.

He doesn't waste anytime and deepens the kiss as soon as my arms have flung around his neck. His tongue dances around mine hungrily, but there is still this gentleness in his movements. He is holding back a bit, as if he kissing me like he really wants to will make me disappear. I decide to pull out of the kiss for a moment, and we stare at each other, breathless with the passion that is burning in both our bodies.

"I missed you." I blurt out, shocking myself and him. Harry's mouth forms into a wide smile, and dives his head straight into my neck. A moan escapes my mouth the second I feel him starting to suck on my skin.

"Harry... we probably shouldn't do this here." I protest ever so slightly, because I actually do not care but I'd rather have him in my bed than against the hard wall. "Let's go back to my place."

He kisses his way up to my jaw, and gums in agreement. I go to step away from him to push back the emergency stop, but Harry doesn't let me. He puts his left hand around my neck and kisses me again, while his right hand hikes up my skirt. Upon stopping the kiss, he leans into my ear.

"We'll get out of here once you've had an orgasm. Consider it an apology for laughing just now." He purred. The combination his heavy breathing and his fingers slipping into my panties makes me shut my eyes tightly. He strokes my pussy with two of his fingers, getting a feel of my wetness.

"Poor girl, I've got you all soaked, don't I?" He taunts as he begins to rub my clit. I moan a 'yes', too aroused to be able to handle the slow teasing. I just want to come so we can get out of here and he can fuck me on my bed.

"Harry, please..." I plead with him, and somewhat of a growl leaves his mouth. His fingers disappear from my heat and I whine at the sudden coolness of my underwear's fabric in my pussy.

I hear the jingle of his belt and I look down to see him taking his rock hard cock out of his pants. Before I can even ask what he's doing, Harry grabs my ass and lifts me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around him, gasping at the feel of his cock against my wet folds.

"I'm going to give you my cock baby, and you're going to take it like the good girl you are, alright?" He commands, taking my underwear between both of his hands and ripping it apart. I widen my eyes at the sight of him pushing away my torn panties, but I'm too turned on from it to get mad.

"Harry, we're in an elevator. What if other people—"

"Do I look like I give a shit about other people? They can take the stairs for all I care." He interrupts me, voice raised a bit. I shake my head ever so hesitantly. "Now, do you want my cock or not?"

He slaps my thigh when I don't respond to him immediately, so I nod as fast as I can.

"Yes, I want it. Please." I look at him, and he leans in to kiss me again. This time it's harsh, and sloppy and needy, the passion having turned into a rough fire that can only be put out with a hard fuck.

He stops the kiss, aligns himself with my pussy, and then pushes himself into me. I let out a shameless cry at the feeling of his dick gliding into me. It's so easy because of how wet I am, and I like how big he is and how it hurts the first minute.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've dreamed of this, love." He starts out slow, knowing his size is something to get used to, but I want none of that.

"Go faster, Harry. I don't care if it hurts, I just want you." I gasp into his mouth in between kisses, and he groans loudly before pushing himself into me with a sharp trust that gives me a burning feeling in my core. It's like I've turned a switch, because Harry's pace is unbelievable and I find it might be too much to handle. Every thought I have fades away until the only thing I can think about is him.

I moan like we're in an isolated room and watch his beautiful face and the curls that fall in front of his face because of the harshness of the thrusts.

"Ah! Fuck, fuck, Harry!" The only words I'm able to articulate from all that are flying through my brain.

"Thaaat's it baby. You get what you asked for " He smirks, his fingers finding their way to my clit. I cry out from the moment he starts to rub circles on it, and I know I won't last very long anymore.

"Are you gonna cum for me already, baby? Are you gonna cream all over my thick cock?" He asks and I can't help but scream out. My tits are almost spilling out of my top because of the way Harry's fucking me against this wall.

"Yes, yes, please! I'm gonna—" I can't even finish my sentence before my orgasm takes ahold of my body, mind and soul. My walls are pulsating around Harry and I'm pulling on his hair for some kind of support as I fall apart. I try to catch my breath, but I'm not able to because Harry drills into me even harder than before.

"H– Harry what are you, oh..." My eyes roll to the back of my head at the amount of stimulation that I'm currently feeling. My grip on his head loosens and I slowly start becoming nothing but a rag doll for him to fuck stupid.

"You're mine now." He growls, and I nod at him, too out of breath to say anything. "And I'm going fuck you until I cum inside your sweet pussy, and you'll hold it in there until we get to your apartment. Do you understand?"

I nod at his request, but he isn't pleased with that. He wraps one of his hands around my neck and squeezes ever so slightly.

"I said: do you understand?"

"I understand." I sputter out, and with that he is back to pounding himself into me. He doesn't take his time, and I know it's because he needs this release just as much as I do. His thumb finds its way to my button again and he continues rubbing and rubbing until I'm nothing but a shivering mess under him.

"Look at you, getting fucked stupid in an elevator by your boyfriend. Such a little slut, all for– fuck! All for me, huh?" He rambles and nothing but words of agreement leave my mouth at his dirty words as I feel my legs tremble with the arrival of a second orgasm.

I push Harry's face against mine to muffle my own scream, but the way he moans into me doesn't quite help my case.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum, baby." He says, and I gather all my mental strength to return some of that dirty talk he's been providing me with.

"Cum for me, please. I need it so fucking bad, baby. Make me yours." I mewl and his thrusts become more erratic with every word I utter, and by the time I'm done talking, I feel the hot spurts of his cum coating my walls.

We're both unable to talk for a minute. We stand there, catching our breath with our foreheads pressed against each other.

"I'm gonna pull out, baby." Harry says after another minute of coming back to earth. I nod tiredly, and hiss as he removes his dick from me. He slowly lowers my legs to the ground, but I hold on tight to his neck because my legs need a few seconds to adjust to holding up my entire body weight.

Harry puts on his pants again and shimmies down my skirt for me before pushing the emergency stop. The elevator goes up almost immediately, but it feels like forever, especially with the feeling of Harry's cum starting to leak out of me. I do my best to hold it in, but it's hard when your legs have just done the most intense work-out they've ever done in their entire life.

When the elevator door opens on my floor, we are met with another couple, who looks at us with a frown when met with the state of us. It doesn't help that the elevator smells like sex now, so we walk out as quickly as we can, Harry adding a cheeky 'goodnight' before we rush to my door.

We both burst into laughter the second the elevator closes and I open my front door for us to get in. Once inside, Harry picks me up and Carrie's me to my couch, where he lays me down on my back. He lies on top of me, partly holding himself up so I don't crush under him, and gives me a deep, long kiss.

His hands stroke through my hair as our lips brush against each other. It's delicate and I could cry at the softness of it all. Harry pulls out of the kiss to analyze my face. He takes in every feature, as do I, and after a bit of silence he speaks up.

"I can't believe you let me have you." He says, those stars in his eyes that I love so much.

"I can't believe your parents don't know Leila's gay."

That makes him laugh, and in time me, because his laugh is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, apart from his moans.

"You liked me for three years." I state what he said earlier, and he nods a genuine nod.

"Three and half, to be exact."

"You're crazy." I shake my head with a chuckle.

"Deal with it. Your boyfriend is a crazy guy." He says and kisses my neck again, before moving away from me.

"Where are you going?" I ask with a frown, not happy with him just going away out of nowhere. I roll my eyes when he hikes up my skirt once again and starts kissing my thigh.

"Harry, I already came two times. I don't know if I'll be able to come."

"Ssh, baby. Just want a taste." He says before attaching his mouth to my clit. I let out a shriek at how intense the feeling is, especially in regards to the sensitivity of my clit.

I become a moaning mess right away, and my hand finds its way to his hair. He sucks and licks long stripes all over my pussy. He lifts his face for a moment, mouth and nose glistening with our arousal and pushes two of his fingers further and further into my mouth. I suck on them with a satisfied moan, until he retracts them and shoved them into my already filled up hole.

"Oh, m– oh my god!" I whimper as his fingers pump in and out of me, and he knocks me out of the park when he starts flicking his tongue over my clit.

I know my orgasm is closing in, but I've never experienced three orgasms in one night before, and I have to say I'm slightly scared of this one. Everything feels so intense that I don't know how I'm going to react to this third one.

A string of curses and moans are the only thing that leave my mouth as I shut my eyes so tight that I swear I see stars, and my entire body pulsates as he helps me ride out my high. I don't even have the strength to open my eyes until Harry gets back on eye level with me.

"Open your eyes baby." He whispers, his fingers caressing my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I whine incoherently.

"I know love, I know. I'll get you all cleaned up and then we' go to sleep, alright." He tells me, planting a kiss on my cheek before getting up and scooping me up from the couch. I already feel awake enough to walk myself, but I keep quiet so he can carry me to my bathroom.

He strips both of us from our clothes and turns on the shower. He cleans me up, even though I insist I do it myself, and afterwards he also fancies himself in charge of what I'm wearing to bed. He picks out a simple, oversized Metallica t-shirt I got from my dad, and helps me put it on before getting into bed with me.

I have to say I am quite sleepy, so my eyes fall shut quite easily. Harry keeps on playing with my now wet hair, making me even more drowsy.

"I won't mess this up." He says, mostly to himself, I think. But I respond anyway.”

"I won't let you."

#harry styles #writing #fanfic #smut #blurb #fanfiction #harry #excerpt #one direction #one shot

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