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#neither care if people could hear
vampyrsm · 1 year
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bakugou the type of man to ask if you wanna fuck whilst he’s bed bound after a villain attack
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lovrspell · 3 months
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Astarion not being used to someone that cares for his pleasure as much as you do.
warnings: 18+, fluff, breeding kink if you squint, aftercare, overstimulation, settled early in the relationship. reader is gn!
word count: 1,4k
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Astarion that, guiding you through your climax with slow drags of his hips, flinches when you pull him into a leg lock and wrap your arms around him the same way a koala does to a tree trunk. That is when you realize, even through your blurry vision and confused senses, he was about to pull out of your sex before he could reach his own peak.
He always does this, but this time you wouldn't let him. He has the right to enjoy the moment the same way you do.
You've thought that he does it simply because he prefers to finish up alone with his own hands, as he had done in front of you numerous times before; but you were wrong.
The truth is, he doesn't even think about it. He focuses on your pleasure, neglecting his own and even edging himself way more than he probably enjoys for the sake of your orgasms; accustomed to this way of things, as it has always been him pleasing other people that most of the time never gave his pleasure more than a elusive thought, it comes natural for him to bring you to ecstasy and not worry about enjoying his own too much.
You shouldn't blame yourself for not realizing it sooner, though. After all, your romantic journey has just recently started.
He admits, he was pretty startled at first; the sudden movement had shook him out of his own trance-like state, focused on the sensations. That dazed, imploring look that he's so used to when he buries himself deep inside you meets his own eyes, and his muscles soften again.
You're gasping and panting, but despite that you manage to whisper to him,
“Stay with me. You're not done yet, are you?”
He's surprised. He didn't even understand why, honestly. Maybe, he didn't expect you to worry about that; everyone is greedy in regards of their pleasure, right?
...But not you.
In the end, it makes sense. You love him. It should be obvious that you care about his pleasure too.
However, he's not even familiar to that bare minimum.
His hips falter and he loses focus for a moment, before shaking his head ‘no’.
He felt your legs loosen around his hips so you could slide your hands over his waist, your grip gentle and reassuring. You give his flesh an encouraging squeeze before beginning to guide his hips towards your throbbing entrance.
Astarion gasps softly, his lips parting in delight as he makes no further effort to move his hips on his own: he lets himself be guided by you, melting away in ecstasy.
He can't help but notice the fact that your thighs are shaking, though. He sees tears in the corners of your eyes, the way you bite your lip nervously, the way you try to hold back whimpers and consequently inhale sharply every once in a while.
This is too much for you.
You're far beyond your climax and it wasn't even the first one: you're oversensitive, yet you push his hips towards yours with determination because you wish for him to finish with you, inside you.
“I-... I can stop if you want me to,” Astarion murmurs, strangely aroused by that realization that had just occurred in his mind.
“No... No. Just tell me when you're close.” you reply immediately, showing no hesitation nor willingness to stop this.
Just because it's too much, it doesn't mean it doesn't feel good for you. Well, maybe it's just too good, actually. Astarion hears you curse under your breath as you struggle to keep your grip firm on him, and decides to regain control, adjusting himself more comfortably between your legs. He grabs your waist and starts thrusting into you in a pace of his own; he's shaking, his eyes closed as he falls into a state of pure bliss in which he's neither too far nor too close to his orgasm.
He feels your hands slowly snake towards his along your own body. Your fingers intertwine around his and as he absentmindedly looks up at your face, he catches your lips curl in a small smile. A smile that, printed on your pleasure-contorted face, is a view that manages to make his cock twitch as he fucks you.
You're happy. You're happy because he's climaxing inside you, thanks to you, thanks to your touch and your wet and warm and inviting walls clenching around him —
He's with you. He's still there.
Before he could ask why you're smiling, his hips falter again and he feels a sweet shiver run down his spine. He's close, so deliciously close.
“Ah,” he whimpers, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewing on it. His brows furrow and he closes his eyes tightly. His back arches towards you and he leans in without thinking, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He trembles and he mumbles your name in your ear, over and over, hips chasing a relentless rhythm. Your own whimpers fill his ears as you arms wrap around his back, holding him close; it's so much, but you're willing to handle it for him. He has brought you to multiple orgasms in a single round several times, it's not like you're not used to it.
Next, his hands clutch your hips tightly and he groans as your walls clench tightly around his cock, sucking him in as if urging to not pull out. He welcomes that invitation.
Sloppy sounds, gasps and growls of excitement fill the room as, with one last hard, deep thrust he releases his cum inside you. He freezes, keeping his cock buried there — as deep inside you as possible, making you take every last drop of his semen.
Your walls tighten around him, your sex swells once more, but you don't reach another orgasm. That's fine, you think. Your focus is on Astarion and Astarion only.
He pulls back from your neck to rest his forehead against your own. He growls lowly as the pleasure dies down, a guttural sound that echoes through your being.
You've never seen him like this after any of his orgasms — and you've seen quite a few by now. He looks like he's in pure bliss, eyes half lidded and lips curved in a lazy smile. He's in heaven, you can tell. It's a good look on him.
“How do you feel?” you ask him, voice velvety and calm as you cradle him in your arms.
He doesn't pull out of you, rather stays perfectly still to not bother your tired, swollen sex — but he wants to cherish the feeling of your warmth hugging his cock a little longer.
You're fiery, both inside and out. It feels sublime.
“Mh.”
That's how you know it felt good.
“Mhm,” you echo him, nudging his forehead with yours and taking advantage of the closeness to steal a kiss from him.
“I truly cannot understand why I've never done this before.” he confesses, his voice an intimate whisper reserved to you and you only. He leans into you, pressing your sweaty bodies together.
“What? Come inside me?” you laugh quietly, moving a few wild curls away from his vision.
“Exactly that, love.”
“I guess it's better late than never.”
“You felt so good it's criminal I've never even gave it a thought.” he continues, giving you a sloppy kiss and letting his lips linger on your own for a bit longer, before he trails his mouth down your neck.
He prints tiny wet kisses all the way down your collarbone. You chuckle: it tickles a bit.
Although lying in his fluids combined with yours felt divine beyond comprehension and you didn't like the thought of putting off cuddling in bed until later at all, you had a tiring day ahead of you after tonight. It was already late: you have to settle down for the night. You have to sleep and, well, he might do for some meditation, or he could spend the night watching you sleep. A bit unsettling, but you've grown used to it.
“...Let's go take a bath, come on.” you whisper in his ear after a few moments of silence and, although the sigh against your skin lets you know that he wants to stay like this a little longer too, he gives a hum of approval.
After all, he doesn't care where he is as long as he can bask in your embraces.
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rileyslibrary · 2 months
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The elderly lady who owns the convenience store in Simon’s neighbourhood needs help with a faulty fridge. You tag along with Simon and discover more about him than you ever expected.
A/N: Fluff. Cosy read.
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“It’s right there,” Simon says, pointing down the street. “Just need to take care of something quickly.”
You follow his outstretched arm to a convenience store nestled on the corner. Furrowing your brows, you glance back at the street you had just walked down, spotting Simon’s house. It’s very close, you think to yourself. Maybe a three-minute walk away.
That’s weird. You’ve taken that same road to and from Simon’s house many times, yet this is the first time you’ve noticed the store.
Turning your attention back, you look closer at your destination. No wonder you never paid much attention to it. The store seems old and rather inconspicuous, blending into its surroundings seamlessly. Everything is understated, from the building to its decor—if you could even call it that. To the left of the entrance, there’s a stand of old magazines, and on the right, a table with two chairs catches your eye. You glance up at the sign above the entrance.
“Mary Mart,” you read aloud.
“That’s right,” Simon confirms, opening the door and triggering a bell to jingle. “Mary should be inside.”
He holds the door open for you, yet his gaze remains fixed on something inside the store. You step in and follow his line of sight to a lady holding a newspaper up to her face. That must be Mary, you presume.
“You alright, Mary?” Simon asks softly.
Yup, that’s definitely her. The newspaper covers most of Mary’s petite frame as she sits behind the counter. She seems so absorbed by her reading that she didn’t hear you come in.
Simon sighs and shakes his head. He gently taps the back of the newspaper to get her attention. Mary lowers the paper to her nose, and her face lights up immediately at the sight of Simon.
“Didn’t see you there!” Mary shouts, lowering the newspaper to the counter. “You alright, my dear?”
“Yes, Mary,” he murmurs, “neither did you see nor hear us.”
“What?” Mary asks, letting go of the newspaper and cupping her ear.
Simon taps his own ear, indicating that Mary needs to adjust her earpiece. Mary’s eyes widen, and she quickly follows Simon’s lead, turning her earpiece on. She gives him a nod.
“Better now?” Simon asks.
“Much, much better,” Mary confirms, then turns to you with a broader smile. “And who do we have here?”
You politely nod, introducing yourself to Mary, but Simon interjects before you say much.
“So tell me, Mary,” He says, glancing towards the back of the store where the fridges are, “which one’s acting up?”
“Oh, I can’t remember, dear, but it’s hard to miss it,” Mary replies, sighing. “It’s the one with the towels underneath. Keeps dripping water.”
Simon nods, his gaze still focused on the fridges. He begins heading towards the back of the store, and you instinctively follow behind him.
“How lovely of you, Simon,” Mary’s voice sounds from behind you. “Bringing me some company while you take care of that fridge.”
You stop in your tracks, and Simon does, too. Point taken, Mary. You glance towards Simon, and he gives you a nod.
“She’s harmless,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. “And a pretty nice lady.”
“Don’t be long.” You whisper back. “We still need to go get some breakfast.”
Simon nods and continues to the back of the store. With a sigh, you return to the counter where Mary is and settle into a nearby chair.
“Anything newsworthy?” You ask.
“Nothing much, dear,” Mary replies, adjusting her newspaper. “The weather’s terrible, the economy’s getting worse, and people won’t stop killing each other.”
“Oh...” you murmur, “yeah, that’s bad.”
“Well, at least Boots has 20% off on all moisturizers,” she announces, slightly more enthusiastically than one might expect for moisturizers. She picks a pair of scissors from under the counter and starts snipping the voucher.
With Mary on a mission to get that 20% off of that newspaper, you take the opportunity to peek at Simon. He’s kneeling in front of the fridge at the back of the store, focused on the appliance. Occasionally, his brow slightly furrows as he inspects the faulty machine. Then he pauses, nods, and grabs tools or shifts his position to get a better look at it. You, on the other hand, have no idea what he’s doing, nor do you care. You are hungry and caffeine-deprived. You’re pretty sure Simon feels the same way.
Meanwhile, Mary has finished cutting through the voucher and returned to her reading. She often flips through the pages and snaps the newspaper to straighten it and remove wrinkles. Sometimes, she hums, acknowledging her current read. Other times, she clicks her tongue disapprovingly at whatever news she comes across.
And you? Well, you’re bored out of your mind, so you begin scanning the shelves and displays, taking in the assortment of merchandise neatly arranged throughout the store. Your eyes briefly pause on various items—a stack of magazines, a display of snacks, a row of household essentials—before finally settling on an old photograph hanging behind Mary.
In the photograph, a young man wearing a military uniform stands confidently. He appears to be in his late twenties and sports a well-kept moustache. Rather than looking straight ahead, his gaze seems to be directed right behind you. He looks confident. Strong. He feels present, even if he’s not here.
“Handsome, huh?” Mary asks, peering over her glasses before turning towards the picture behind her. “That’s my Walter right there.”
You clear your throat and nod. “Very handsome indeed,” you confirm. “Is he your husband?”
“Was,” Mary corrects with a wistful smile, her eyes drifting back to you. “My very first and last one.”
“Which war?” you ask, gesturing towards his uniform.
“You mean which war he served in or which war he died in?”
“Both,” you shrug.
“Served in too many,” she says proudly, lowering her gaze to her newspaper. “But the war my Walter lost had no guns or weapons.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
Mary looks up from her newspaper, meeting your eyes with a tilt of her head and a warm smile.
“Coffee?” she offers but doesn’t let you respond. She has already turned her back to you, brewing a fresh pot.
“No, thank you,” you reply. “We intend to grab some on our way to breakf-”
“I don’t think Simon will finish anytime soon, dear,” she interjects.
“Then yes, please,” you reply, then mouth a silent ‘shit’ to yourself so that Mary doesn’t hear you. You peek once more at the back of the store where Simon is.
“He’s handsome as well, isn’t he?” Mary states, with her back still turned towards you.
You blush at Mary’s observation and look down at the gum assortment in front of the counter. “Yes,” you agree, nodding with a smile. “Yes, he is.”
“Met at the base?” She asks, pouring you a cup of coffee.
“You know where we work?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“It takes one to know one, dear,” she says, turning towards you and handing you a cup of coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”
“No, thanks,” you reply. “So you also served in the military?”
Mary’s expression shifts, her face lighting up as she lifts her index finger.
“Serve!” she exclaims, “Silly me; I forgot to serve the biscuits!”
She retrieves a plate covered with tin foil from below the counter and uncovers it, pushing the platter towards you. You politely decline, thanking her for the offer. But Mary insists.
“I made them myself,” she tells you warmly.
“And I’m sure they taste lovely, but-”
“Take the biscuit,” Mary commands sternly, yet still smiling.
You look up at her, and without looking back at the plate, you take a biscuit. You don’t know which one you picked, what flavour it is, or if there are any allergens in it. Mary’s assertiveness is enough to make you pop it right into your mouth.
Her smile widens. “Good?” she asks.
The biscuit is indeed good. Very good. But even if it weren’t, you wouldn’t dare say otherwise—not only out of respect for Mary’s age but also because something tells you she might have more experience than the convenience store owner she portrays herself to be.
“They are amazing, Mary,” you reply and swallow.
“Simon likes those too,” she states proudly. “I often bring some over when I bake them.”
“So you live nearby?” You ask, swallowing another bite of the biscuit.
“I’m his landlord,” Mary reveals, nudging the plate of biscuits closer to you, “help yourself to another.”
You oblige and take another biscuit, and Mary continues once you take a bite.
“So,” she begins, blowing the steam off her coffee, “I’ve seen you plenty of times in my neighbourhood.”
“I, um,” you lift one shoulder and idly pick up a pack of chewing gum from the assortment in front of you. “I do come by often.”
“I know,” she replies, sipping her coffee. “You’ve been passing by my store a lot lately.”
You subtly turn your head towards Simon’s direction, letting your hair fall to the side of your face to conceal your blushing cheeks from Mary’s view. Yet she doesn’t seem to let go.
“He’s a good lad,” Mary states. Always there when neighbours need him, ready to lend a hand.”
“Indeed, he’s very good with his hands.” You reply.
“You know best, my dear,” Mary remarks, smirking.
“I meant with fixing things!” You say, widening your eyes. “He’s good with his hands when it comes to fixing things!”
Mary chuckles knowingly. “He’s also quite popular with the ladies—both the single and the taken ones,” she continues.
“Oh, is he now?” You respond in a high-pitched voice, narrowing your eyes. You turn your body towards Mary, placing the chewing gum package back in its original position.
“Yes,” she confirms, leaning over the counter. “Simon never rejects the attention, being such a good-looking lad, but at the same time, he never reciprocates.”
“How do you know he doesn’t reciprocate?”
“Oh, you’d be impressed what people say in front of an old lady who, allegedly, forgets to switch her earpiece on.” She says, winking at you.
“So, women flirt with him, huh?”
Mary throws her head back and chuckles, flicking her wrist at you. “Oh please, my dear,” she says in between chuckles, “I would have practically done the same if I was fifty years younger and Walter wasn’t around.”
“And he doesn’t flirt back?” You ask.
“No, not really, but he used to be friendly with them.” She explains, tilting her head toward you. “And then something changed.”
You shift in your seat and lean forward. “What?” You ask, intrigued. “What changed?”
Mary leans closer, sliding the biscuit platter toward you.
“Mary, I should probably lay off the biscuits,” you say. “We’re supposed to be heading out for breakfast, remember?”
“Make it a brunch, dear, or whatever you young people call it nowadays,” she replies. “Simon won’t be fixing the fridge anytime soon.”
“How do you know?” you ask. “You just said he’s great at fixing things.”
“Not when there’s nothing wrong with the fridge in the first place.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, furrowing your brows.
“I detached the defrost drain to simulate water leakage,” she explains. “It’s an easy fix, but you can oversee it quite easily, especially when the fridge is as old as I am.”
“You tinkered with the fridge on purpose?” you ask, eyes wide with surprise. “Why?”
“Oh please,” she sighs, rolling her eyes, “I had to bring you both here somehow.”
You glance at the cookie platter. Understanding that you won’t get any more information from Mary unless you indulge, you grab another cookie and pop it into your mouth. Mary, the ‘insert-biscuit-here-to-continue’ lady, takes the cue and continues.
“And then, as I was saying, you began to visit more often,” she explains, glancing over at Simon. “And his reaction to all the attention shifted.”
“You need to elaborate a little bit more, Mary,” you press. “How exactly did it change?”
“Girlfriend!” she exclaims in a hushed tone, widening her eyes at you. “He says he has a girlfriend!”
You widen your eyes, just like her, and point at yourself. She nods and points back at you.
“And then there’s the toothbrush,” she continues. “He bought two! A green one and a pink one.”
“He gave me a pink toothbrush when I stayed over for the first time!” you whisper. “Said he’d bought it ages ago and forgotten about it!”
“He bought a pink toothbrush as a spare for himself?” She asks, and her eyes narrow. “Nonsense! It wasn’t too long ago, and I have the receipts.”
“You keep receipts for these things, Mary?”
“No, silly,” she shakes her head. “It’s for tax purposes.”
“Right, so, I’m the girlfriend apparently,” you murmur, massaging your temples. “But why are you telling me all this?”
“Simon isn’t much of a talker, dear,” Mary explains, her tone softening. “Not to mention the horrors he’s been through. Sometimes, you might even misunderstand him because of it. But I’ve known him for a long time. He’s like family to me. Sometimes, when words fail him, I feel the need to speak on his behalf.”
“So you’re looking out for him,” you conclude, slowly nodding.
“Like the child I never had,” Mary confirms with a warm smile, pouring another cup of coffee. “And I can see how much he cares about you. But he’s not always good at expressing it. That’s why I thought I’d give you a little hint.”
“Thank you, Mary,” you say. “I appreciate you looking out for us.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she says, handing you the extra coffee. “Now, how about you go over there and tell Simon to take a break? You can use the chairs outside while I go and reattach the defrost drain to the fridge.”
“Sure thing,” you reply and grab the coffee. “I just have one more question.”
“Go ahead,” she says.
“If Simon asks me what we’ve been talking about, what should I tell him?”
“Tell him I was rambling about the weather, the economy, and the 20% voucher from Boots,” she suggests, winking. “You’re a smart girl; that’s why he picked you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
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lynnielovestlou · 7 months
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birthday girl ;) ellabs x reader
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꩜ synopsis: ellie and abby give you a special birthday present
꩜ cw: ellabs x reader , smut with a little plot , sub! reader , dom! ellie , switch! abby , double penetration , dirty talk , praise , strap use , no use of y/n , reader sometimes referred to as "birthday girl" , fem! reader , possessive! ellie (only at the beginning) , ellie and abby have a bulge , strap use , reader is 21 , they eat cake off of reader's body (lol) , overstimulation , pet names , tummy bulge , implied wax kink , pussy slapping
nsfw!! men dni. masterlist
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You weren't drunk. Just mildly buzzed, nothing more and nothing less. But the whiskey Dina got you for your birthday was coursing through your body, and you'd be damned if you couldn't feel it.
Ellie was the one that initiated your surprise party, Abby helping her with planning it. It didn't take them long, because they both equally knew you weren't hard to please. Just your favorite people, some music and some booze was all it took to make you happy.
Of course, it wouldn't truly be your birthday without a birthday dress. This morning when you were getting dressed you were couldn't decide between the purple dress that Abby got you, and the pink one that Ellie got you. You couldn't wear one without pissing off the other. But you made an internal compromise with yourself. Wear Abby's for the first half of the party, then Ellie's for the second half.
You were halfway through with Abby's dress. And you could tell Ellie was getting pissed off. Her hand was gripping your thigh every time you sat down, but it wasn't sweet. It was possessive.
Abby sits on the other side of you, her arm settled around your waist, her fingers lightly tracing the spaces in between your ribs. Neither of them could take their hands off of you, but both of them had different intentions.
"Why aren't you wearing the dress I got you?" Ellie mutters, her tone having an undertone of harshness.
"I wanted to wear both of yours." You respond bluntly, the nonchalant shrug pissing her off to a higher degree.
"You look better in pink." She says, loud enough for Abby to hear. Which, she does. But she pays no mind.
"Why don't you tell our girl how good she looks instead of getting all pissed she's not wearing your dress?" Abby says, an utter calmness in her voice.
"Why don't you shut the hell up?" Ellie counters, her and fingers mistakenly digging into your thighs. You squirm a little, and she loosens her grip.
Abby merely rolls her eyes, her grasp on your waist tightening, "Let's not fight on her birthday." She says, seemingly calm despite the argument.
For the rest of the party, Ellie wouldn't get her hands off of you. She was always touching your shoulder, your hips, your waist, the small of your back, etc. She was clingy as hell, and you knew why.
Once the last guest said goodbye, her entire demeanor changed, "You want your birthday present?" You nod, your tipsy smile brightening up. "Go lay down. Abby and I will be there in a second."
Obediently, you go lay down on your shared bed, kicking off the heels that had begun to rub on the back of your feet. Not long after, Abby had joined you, shuffling through the bedside table.
"Whatcha lookin' for?" You ask, watching her meticulously.
Abby chuckles before pulling out her strap. It was the longest and most girthy one the three of you owned, and it was your least favorite. It sting and you could never get used to the thickness, "Per Ellie's requests."
"Abs, I can never take that one, I-"
"I know, honey. We'll take care of it." She says as Ellie walks in after them. Her anger had faded from earlier, her expression now only filled with lust.
"Y'ready cupcake?"
Just at her words you could feel dampness pooling in your panties, and you subconsciously rub your thighs together. Of course, Ellie notices and shoves your knees apart, causing your dress to ride up your thighs, "How many times you wanna cum, baby?"
Your eyes widen at her bluntness, but you hold up one finger. She and Abby exchange glances before Ellie tuts you, "How about... we give you the number you just turned. How's that sound, birthday girl?"
Your jaw drops in sheer shock, the thought of having 21 orgasms making your head spin, "S' too much."
You earned yourself an eye roll from both girls, "You can take it. Afterwords, we'll treat you. How's that sound?"
You nod, biting your bottom lip to settle your nerves. Abby presses her plush lips onto yours, a sudden warmth bubbling up in your tummy.
"Get it nice and lubed up. Don't wanna hurt the birthday girl." Ellie says, slowly taking your panties off and throwing them off to the side of the bed. Your dress was next, leaving you completely naked.
"So pretty, baby." Abby coos, handing the monstrosity of a strap-on to Ellie, who immediately fastens it on over her clothes.
For a moment Ellie doesn't move, just watching you and Abby. Until you realize what she was waiting on. Abby was putting a strap on too, this one much more tolerable than the one that Ellie was currently wearing.
"Wanna take us both at once?" Abby asks, earning an eager nod from you.
After a few minutes of maneuvering around, Abby settled beneath you and Ellie behind you. Both girls had firm grips on you, Abby's hands playing with your ribs and Ellie's rubbing up against your ass.
"Tell us when you're ready, baby girl." Ellie says, teasing you by bumping the tip of the strap up against your hole.
"Who goes first?" Abby asks from below you.
"Let's get the hard part over with. I will." Abby says, slowly sliding the silicone into your ass. You yelp, your hands instantly squeezing onto Abby's shoulders.
"Shhh... you're okay." Abby coos, gently rubbing your skin with her calloused and oddly cold fingers. Ellie let's you adjust to her strap before she turns to Abby, nodding to her. Without warning, Abby eases the cock into you, both of the girl's only being separated by a thin layer of flesh, "Theeeere we go..."
You wince at the burn, feeling your stomach bulge just at the full feeling in your dripping cunt.
"You okay, baby?" One of them asks, but you're too busy focusing on the feeling to tell. You just nod, sinking your hips down onto both of their faux cocks at once.
"Good girl." Abby says, holding your waist to help guide you up and down.
All that was heard was the sound of the squelching between your legs and not one, not two, but three different sets of moaning. You looked so pretty to both of them, your plush tits on display for Abby and your ass out for Ellie, both of them equally as pleased with the view.
"S' too much." You whine, trying to squirm away from the burn. Ellie does you the favor by pulling you black and slamming the toy back into your hole, bottoming out in one go. You scream out, and Abby shushes your cries with gentle and tender kisses on your lips. She was always the one to comfort you, drying your tears and kissing your cheek while Ellie ever so mercilessly pounded you. It was never an uncommon instance.
"You've got it, baby. Breathe." She coos, giving Ellie a death stare as if to tell her to be more gentle. Meanwhile, Abby's strap was hitting you right where you wanted it. She moved her hips to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves. The spongey spot inside you that makes you moan.
"I've got an idea." Ellie says with a snicker, slowing her movements. She pulls out too quick, making you groan at the emptiness of your ass. Abby slowly pulls out too, letting you fully collapse on top of her.
You're a complete mess, crying into Abby's shoulder as she rubs your bare back as Ellie runs off.
"You wanna try something?" She asks when she returns, her arms full of things. You weakly pull your head up, glancing at the haul she as. You can't make out the objects, except for a bottle of whipped cream and a can of cherries.
Abby laughs at the sight of it, knowing exactly what she's doing.
"I think the birthday girl deserves her cake, don't you think, Ellie?" Abby says, gently shifting you off of her so you're laying face up on the bed.
Before you knew it, Abby was spraying mounds of whipped cream over your tits. It was colder than you'd expected, shivering as it hits your smooth skin. Once both of your boobs were perfectly covered, Ellie does the honor of placing the cherries on top.
"Look at you, honey." Abby can't help but giggle, grabbing the discarded whipped cream and spraying a dapple into your mouth. You laugh and gladly lick the rest of the white treat off your lips.
Ellie takes out a small box of candles, a stupid smile on her face as she rips them open and places them meticulously in the whipped cream. Abby grabs the lighter right out of her hands, lighting the candles right up on top of you.
The pink wax drips down from the flame, slowly creeping down to your skin. It burns for a millisecond before the wax settles and hardens. Ellie lets out a low groan, relishing in the sight of it.
Abby bends down, licking a fat stripe of the whipped cream off your nipple. Everyone giggles and laughs at the movement, Ellie mimicking her and licking off the whipped cream on your other breasts.
Abby grabs a fistful of your birthday cake, smearing it all over your stomach and thighs. You were more of a mess than before, covered in your own slick, your girls' saliva, whipped cream and now chocolate birthday cake. The white and pink icing smears all over your skin.
Ellie bends down, licking a thick strip of cake off your thigh and nibbling you in the process. Abby grabs another handful of the icing, drawing a line with her finger from your belly button all the way down to your clit. She licks it up and relishes the taste of you.
"Ellie, you've gotta try this." Abby says, taking some cake and smearing it in the same fashion for Ellie. She smiles, lifting your legs up and placing them over her shoulders to get a better angle, then attaches her lips to your skin. Her warm tongue travels down until she latched onto your clit, sucking vigorously on it and pulling moans from your lips.
"Gonna' make you scream." Ellie says, easing a finger into your hole.
You squeak, squirming slightly until Abby holds you down. She pecks your cheek, shushing you softly as Ellie pumps in and out. She curls her fingers, still sucking and licking on your clit.
"E-Ellie-" You whine, everything from the waist below starting to tingle.
"This is what you get for not wearing that pretty dress I bought for you." She states simply, her tone not angry or disappointed, but plain emotionless.
"I'm sorry, Els, please let me cum." You plead, your legs tensing up and beginning to close around her hand.
She takes her hand out, shoving her fingers into Abby's mouth, who closes her plush lips around her knuckles and licks up your slick, smiling down at you as she does so. It was almost sadistic the way they touched you and looked at you like this.
"Now... are you going to be a good girl for Ellie?" Abby says, gently pressing a kiss to your temple.
You have no choice but to nod, the only thought going through your mind being that this is going to be a long night.
2K notes · View notes
mariahcarreyyy · 5 months
Note
i hear u are looking for landoscar x reader smut ideas, and i raise you oscar domming tf out of lando and reader!!
CAUGHT ORANGE-HANDED, ln4 [+ op81 ]
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pairing lando norris x fem!reader x oscar piastri
plot oscar catches you and lando touching each other without permission
wc 2.6k
warning(s) smut 18+, dry humping, brat!lando and brat!reader, brat-tamer!oscar 😉, caught in the act, male masturbation, cock denial (?), orgasm control, cumming in pants, lan and reader r obsessed with oscar's cock, mutual oral sex (m!recieving), lando gets a facial😵‍💫, degradation kink (slut & brat), and lots of swearing
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“I'm home!” Oscar’s voice echoes along the long, carpeted hallway of his shared hotel room.
He frowns at the response, or lack thereof. Shrugging his midnight blue puffer jacket off his shoulder, the younger Mclaren driver toes out of his shoes and scopes out the miniature living room in search of his two lovers.
When he reaches the end of the hall, he’d half-expected you and Lando to be lazily splayed against the couch, legs entangled with one another while watching your latest Netflix obsession.
But you two aren't.
Oscar had come ‘home’ aggravated and sweaty and in some serious need of a long, warm cuddle with the two people he knows he could unconditionally count on, and you two aren't fucking here. 
He lifts his hand to thread his fingers through his hair, tugging on it out of frustration, before pulling out his phone to text, Where are you?, to either one of you.
And then he ascertains his answer without needing to ask.
A string of desperate moans and whines, a man’s and a woman’s, slide through the cracks of his bedroom door and slowly fill the air around him. Oscar scoffs; they really can’t spend a second together without needing their cocks wet and pussy stuffed to the brim, huh?
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Somewhere amidst the non-existent space between your covered, wet pussy and the bulge in Lando’s tight boxers, the fear of Oscar catching you looms over the lust-filled haze enveloping the room.
“Osc’s s'posed to be on his way, baby,” Lando manages to gasp out like he wants you to stop, but his hands’ metal grip on your waist never falters and his green eyes never leave yours.
It was a weak warning; Lando was aware, but the sight of you on top of him, steadying yourself with your palms flat against his stomach to move your hips fervently against his crotch—fuck, it made him even weaker.
You hum nonchalantly in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his trapped cock nudges at your neglected clit again, “Don’t care, need you, Lan.”
The curly-haired boy groans at that, planting his feet on the bed to meet your languid movements. The friction was so much and still so little, so far from what you two truly wanted.
“Fuck, me neither.”
When you double over and pucker your lips slightly above Lando’s, he can’t help but grin into the kiss. It’s desperate, laced with unimaginable hornyness and clashing teeth, and Lando can’t fucking stop.
“Pathetic, honestly, y’sluts couldn’t even wait a couple hours for me?”
You gasp into your boyfriend's lips, halting every one of your movements (much to the displeasure of the stirring pit in your lower stomach). Lando pinches your waist, resulting in you scrambling to sit upright and crane your head back to look at a very beautiful, very angry-looking Australian standing in the doorway.
“Hiya,” Lan smirks mischievously at the muscular frame of his boyfriend behind you, lifting his head slightly to do so.
You mentally palm your forehead.
“Hiya?” Oscar furrows his brows, advancing towards the edge of the bed. “That all you got f’me? C’mon, Lan, you wanna come tonight or not?”
Your eyes roll back, this time in annoyance rather than pleasure. “Knock it off, Oscar, it’s not that big of a deal. We were horny, so what?”
Oscar’s big brown eyes meet yours for the first time since he’d arrived, and you fight the urge to crawl in a hole and die because, judging by his glare, he’d murder you instead. The paler boy raises a questioning brow, his eyes flitting between you and Lando, never leaving your curious glances when he begins ripping every piece of clothing adorning his body off.
And fuck, his body was something to gawk at. Oscar’s abs are still tense and sweaty from the workout his trainer put him through earlier, but the real sight for sore eyes was his thick, hardening dick between his even thicker thighs.
Evident with the hopeless roll of Lando’s hips, Oscar had the same effect on him as well.
“Oscahhh, c’mere,” the man underneath you demands, one of his big palms leaving your waist to make grabby hands at the paler man standing beside you.
Much to your surprise, Oscar complies. Big, stoic, text-book-dom Oscar Piastri fucking crawls up the mattress from behind you—his breath tickles your neck and a pathetic whimper slips from your lips—reaches over your shoulder to tug Lando up forcefully from his hair and starts noisily kissing him.
Right over your shoulder, beside your face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. They had no right to look that good, like they were carefully sculpted by the Greek gods themselves, made for each other. Made for you, too.
Lando presses himself impossibly closer to Oscar's lips, his chest flush against your perky tits and Oscar’s against your arched back—you are sandwiched between them, and it does nothing to help the growing dampness on your panties.
A minute passes. Somehow, neither of them has lost their breath, and you want to absolutely sob because the ache between your thighs is screaming for relief. Huffing at the lack of attention, you grind your hips: first, downward against Lando, and then, grinding your ass against Osc’s heavy cock.
“Oscar, come on!" You whine, tilting your head back to bury it in the crook of his neck.
Like a light switch flipped, Oscar rips his tongue out of Lando’s mouth and nudges his shoulder to push you off of him before whispering hotly, “It’s not that big of a deal, y/n.”
There it was. The big, stoic, text-book dom places his hands under Lando’s on your hips, squeezing painfully at the itchy lace of your panties. Also making you so fucking horny.
“Osc, c’mon, y’know she didn’t mean it li-,” Lando’s words die in his throat at the sharp glare Oscar shot at him.
“A slut defending a slut? Hm, nothing’s changed, I see." Oscar trails his palms up the sides of your frame, passing over Lando’s darker hand as he continues. “I really don’t get why you guys didn’t just wait for me, would've given one of you m’cock.”
You and Lando whine in unison, and it's music to Oscar’s fucking ears.
Jutting your bottom lip out, you counter, “You still can, Osc.”
Oscar's lips twitch upwards, grabbing Lando’s hand and placing his index and thumb on your tits, tweaking at the nub through Lando’s long fingers. A needy moan escapes your lips, grinding on Lando’s covered dick and shit, you need it now.
Your fingers glide downward through the hardness of Lando’s abs, tugging desperately at the hem of his boxers.
Oscar tuts disapprovingly, dropping Lando’s hand from your tits—you and the pleasure pooling in your stomach whine in protest—before ordering, “Y’two can grind on each other till you come, but the underwear stays on.”
Lando pouts, his hands moving up to palm your hardened nipples, flicking at the nub, and talks to Oscar behind you like you aren't writhing on his lap.
“Lan,” you gasp when his squeezes escalate faster and rougher, the hint of pain overshadowed by the pleasure coursing through your body.
They both ignore you.
“Osc, please,” Lando begs, helpless at this point, tears brimming at his waterline because, my god, his boxers were about to fucking rip open at the sheer size of his hard cock.
You want it stuffed inside you so bad.
You can’t see it, but you feel like you can when Oscar grins behind you, pulling his heated body away from the curve of your back and crawling up to the bedpost beside Lan.
Now, you could see both of their faces clearly: horny, hot, and flushed. The younger driver places one arm behind his head, his bicep bulging to the size of your head, while the other grips at the base of his throbbing cock.
Holy shit, your panties were absolutely soaked, seeping through their seams and wiping the slick of your pussy onto Lando’s boxers.
“C’mon,” Oscar urges, lazily stroking his precum around the length of his cock. “I wanna watch.”
Lando lets out a low groan before his hands leave your tortured tits to cup your cheeks and press his lips against yours. It was messy and a bit awkward, and you couldn’t care less. When Lando slides his crotch against the dampness of your underwear, you're powerless to resist a loud moan.
“Fuck,” you whine against his pillowy lips, meeting Lando’s desperate ruts and arching your back when the head of his cock nudged at your swollen clit. 
When you detach from him for air and glance at Oscar, you finally register the loud wetness of him fucking his dick into the circle of his fingers. And shit, the thought of him getting off on the sight of you and Lando desperately humping each other makes you way hornier than it should.
“Fuck, baby,” Lando moans, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth caught in a permanent ‘o’. “Y’so good, so good, y/n, fuck, I’m close.”
You whimper, head hazy at the sound of the three of you getting off to one another, and your thighs burn at the erratic movements of your hips. That doesn't deter your hips from moving frantically as you get drunk on Lando’s mewls and Oscar’s raspy groans.
So, when Lan’s rugged fingertips brush against your sensitive nipples once more, you can’t help yourself when it throws you off the edge; your back arches almost uncomfortably with your head thrown back and bottom lip between your teeth, filling the room with a symphony of high-pitched moans.
“Shit, shit, shit." Lando throws his head back against the pillow, and you bend to place your wet lips against his wide neck.
You nibble, kiss, and suck the canvas of his neck, muffling the sound of your overstimulated moans as Lando chases his high against you.
“Fuckk, you two’re so fucking hot,” Oscar groans, hastily sitting up on his calves to jerk his dick off beside Lando’s face. Lan instinctively opens his mouth, tongue poking out slightly and hips stuttering, when Oscar paints his face with beads of milky cum.
Naturally, you whimper—both at the sight of your boyfriends and the feel of Lando’s boxers dampening more when the mix of his own cum and yours stain the cotton.
Fuck, you'd be inexplicably horny right now if you hadn't just come. Oscar’s still kneeling beside Lando, frozen and wide-eyed and panting for air. And, even after reaching his high, Lando’s hips slow but do not stop from under you, like he can’t fucking help but grind against you.
The last thing your eyes registered before falling pliant against your boyfriend's chest was Oscar gathering his cum on Lando’s face with his thumb. Lando’s lips part, and he obediently sucks on Oscar’s thumb with a muffled moan.
You could die happily like this, you think, sinking further into the bed when the warmth of both your lovers arms encircles your frame.
“You two still aren’t getting my cock for a week, by the way, serves you brats right.”
And Lando, because he can't take a fucking hint, grins at Oscar and asks, "Can I suck you off?"
You start, "Lan, you dumbass-"
"M'kay," Oscar cuts you off, retracting his arm from around your waist and scooching up the bed to lay his head on the bedpost.
The grin etched onto Lando's face only widens, his big hands hauling you off of him before crawling into the V of his boyfriend's legs. Oscar, despite having come a few short minutes ago, is already half-hardened at the sight of Lando gazing dumbly at his cock.
"Desperate much?" you coo from beside him, although you too felt the pit in your stomach stirring again.
Not so pleased, Oscar extends his arm to the space between his legs and motions you towards Lando. You don't blink before obeying him. In fact, if it meant touching or feeling his cock in any way, shape, or form, you think you'd do anything he'd ask of you right now.
You mimic Lando's position: lying down beside him on your chest with your face millimetres away from Oscar's dick. A familiar fire courses through your abdomen as Oscar shoves his hands into your and Lando's locks.
"How 'bout whoever sucks me off best gets my cock, hm?" Oscar says it like a question, but you and Lando know better than to reply. "That sound good for you brats?"
The two faces behind his cock nod frantically with a newborn competitive glint in their eyes. At the confirmation, Oscar wastes not a second before tugging on Lando's roots to wrap the elders' lips around the head of his cock.
You bite your bottom lip, rubbing your thighs to try and ease your pussy screaming for attention—it does fuck all. Oscar has his head thrown back, silent moans escaping his parted lips as his boyfriend lapped at the underside of his length.
"Shit, Lan, just like that, fuck," his hips buck uncontrollably, lifting Lando's head off his cock—who only whined at the loss—and pulling you down onto him instead.
With a slight jerk of your head, your hot mouth closes around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks to suck more of him. You swallow the gag threatening to leave your mouth when his length hits the back of your throat, the hand on your hair clenching painfully but oh-so-beautifully.
Oscar's groans bounce off the walls, nearly overpowered by the lewd slurps and gags from his cock in your mouth, "Holy shit, oh fuck, Lan, fuck, yes, yes."
Your brows furrow, gazing up at Oscar's fucked-out face, before the realization that Lando had managed to sneak a hand around the base of Oscar's cock, mouthing desperately at his balls, dawns on you.
You pull off Oscar with a cough. "Lan, fuck off, j's lemme have this, Jesus."
With a fond mix of a chuckle and a moan, Oscar hesitantly bats Lando's hands and mouth off of him, motioning for you to continue. So, you do. You clasp your fingers around the parts of Oscar's cock that your throat couldn't reach and cup his balls with your other hand, bobbing your head mercilessly up and down his length.
Lando whines (he doesn't know if he wants to be Oscar or you, but he pouts anyway), and you continue absolutely wrecking Oscar.
"You're so good, y/n, fuck! So good, so," Oscar groans, his chest rising and falling rapidly; his sweaty abs contracted ethereally, one of the few indications that he was close.
Humming around his cock, you pull off reluctantly for breath, and Lando, that sly bastard, takes it as his cue to replace you. Your throats' fucked raw and the exhausted flush on your face trails over your entire body, so you tiredly rest your forehead on Oscar's inner thigh, occasionally kissing and mouthing at the flesh.
Oscar's hand leaves your hair and places both of his palms on Lando's bobbing head, fucking up once, twice into his boyfriend's throat before groaning loudly, "Fuck, shit, holy shit, I'm coming, I'm co-."
Ropes of hot cum dribble down Lando's chin when he hauls himself off of Oscar's length, and you have to resist the urge to lick it clean. A loud exhale leaves Oscar's lips, his dick slowly softening and his hand returning to the top of your head to stroke your hair fondly.
"So?" you question, your voice raspy and lust-filled.
"Lando won," the younger man grins hazily, chuckling when Lando lets out a proud 'hmmph' directed at you.
You gasp, "Liar!"
"Y'can't tell the guy who just came from my mouth a liar, baby," Lando quips, nudging your shoulder with his.
"I can when he's a liar," you mutter bitterly before your eyes light up. "I call for a rematch!"
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authors notes thank you @ashiekins ur request was also inspo for this fic and to @cafekitsune + @saradika for the dividers xx
lemme know how you liked this story or give me some feedback in the comments or my inbox! 💬🌷
taglist @lorssworld @multifandomwhore-003 @lewislcver @millinorrizz @starz4me1 @uniquesludgeoperabonk @cinnamongirlontv @avngrsz @sydneyxposts @annahowardsworld @eternally-writing-main @leeangelis @i-wish-this-was-me @elisim @forza-dolce @serenity-contreras @tiredallthetimex @golden-flora @landosgirl @beyond-the-ashes @simple-soul-searcher @formulahuh @piastrification @topguncultleader @peachyplumsss @jenniferrvsesi @lonely92world @ashes2ashesweallfall @d4mi3nn @babyblue-99s-blog @poppyr22ussell @crimeshowjunkie @simpingcorner @aexitizen-ln4 @danielmarie @2412kcal2000 @eddiesbitch83 @sigistarkstrom @cassielikereading @tsukishimawhore
p.s reblogs and likes are always appreciated 💕💕
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1K notes · View notes
seonghwaddict · 5 months
Text
blue bird — choi san, jung wooyoung
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in which one of the most dangerous men in the city approaches you with an offer, but how would you have known it would turn into something more?
mafia boss!choi san x fem!reader x mafia boss!jung wooyoung. genre. fluff, smut, mafia au. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, unprotected sex, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, slight corruption, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, fingering, reverse cowgirl position, pussy drunk wooyoung??, subspace??, cum swallowing, san is a little mean, wooyoung likes to tease, lots of teasing, hair pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk like a lot of it, brief begging, praise, overuse of the word pretty, pet names (doll, princess, baby, pretty girl, good girl, baby doll, pretty little slut). i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know. wc. 6.9k.
lilo’s notes. hiii happy new year everyone!! this is dedicated to @garlichoisan, surprise! i was your secret santa :3 i’m sorry but i completely forgot to write angst and couldn’t find a way to squeeze it in, please forgive me 😭😭 i think i got a little carried away with the smut, it’s probably not my best since i’m not very experienced in writing it but i hope you like it and this as a whole!!
     ���   masterlist
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choi san wanted you in a rather unexpected way.
not in a friendly way or a sexual way, but actually in a professional way. ever since he’d heard of what you, the so called “blue bird,” were up to, he knew you’d be a valuable asset. shortly after he heard about you, he was quick to tell wooyoung about what he had learned from idling in a bar he’d never been to.
it was an early morning. so early that the sun hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t bother san. he preferred quieter, intimate spaces rather than the bustling clubs of grey city. as he sipped on his whiskey, the two men beside him got to talking. neither of them were very memorable, if anything they looked too similar; not intimidating in any way. still, he made a mental note of the guns attached to their hips. it was nothing very interesting, small talk from what he could tell. well, at least until they mentioned an odd name.
“did you hear what she did?”
“who?” one of them, the one with comically thick glasses, said as he blew out some cigarette smoke.
“well… ya know…” his voice lowered to a whisper, though in his drunken state it was less of a discreet whisper and more of a loud hiss, “the blue bird.”
he gave a sound of recognition. “wonderful heist, wasn’t it?”
“indeed,” he laughed, a deep chortle, “she was here tellin’ ricky all about it yesterday. flawless, flew in and out like a ghost.” he sighed blissfully, as if he had been there to watch you work.
now this. this is what caught infamous mafia boss choi san’s attention.
“more like a bird!” the bespectacled man nudge his friend with his elbow, a high pitched giggle leaving him. “get it? because she’s called bl-”
the friend held his hand up with a deadpan expression. “yes, i get it.”
the two men talked about you some more (“pretty thing she is, isn’t she?” “mhm, heard she’s actually quite sweet too. odd thing to hear about an outlaw.”), but san tuned them out again. with an important upcoming mission, he needed someone capable of doing exactly what these two men had described. he needed someone like you. preferably, you.
going off of what he had heard, he frequented that bar, hoping you’d happen to be there at the same time. he sat at the same seat at the same counter every night and always ordered the same thing. he noticed that after the first two nights he was there, no one really sat next to him. presumably because they recognised him and opted to avoid him instead of doing anything.
not that he cared, this part of town was known to be filled with people of the rebellious type; people like him who despised the government and would stop at nothing to take it down. if anything, they most likely respected him and his business. but alas, that doesn’t matter much in this particular story, does it?
wooyoung even offered to take turns visiting the bar, curious to see this mysterious person as well. but two weeks passed and no sign of you. most of the people there were the same every time he went, he was sure he would’ve noticed a new face at some point.
fortunately, his efforts became successful.
as usual, no one sat directly beside him, leaving one or two barstools between him and whatever other patron sat at the counter. or so he thought. the usual bartender passed him and came to a stop. confused and thinking the bartender stopped for him despite already sipping on his drink, san tilted his head. but it soon became evident that he wasn’t there for him, but rather for the pretty woman he didn’t notice sitting beside him.
“the usual?” the bartender asked, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he looked at you, his hands busy drying a glass.
san heard a brief chuckle beside him, prompting him to take a proper look at you. the first thing he noticed were your lips. plump and red, smooth lipstick. then the slope of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the thin straps of your silky black dress, jacket hanging by your elbows. the soft yellow-tinted lighting bounced off your rich skin and perfect hair in an almost hypnotising way. there was something enchanting about your aura, your posture, you.
he forced himself to look away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
“yes, thank you.” you replied, nodding at the bartender as he turned to prepare your drink.
“one hot chocolate for our blue bird coming right up!”
blue bird.
this time san couldn’t stop himself from looking. so it was you.
the men from the other day weren’t lying when they called you a pretty little thing. you wore a silky black dress and a black fur jacket to protect you from the cold wind of the night. as his eyes roamed over you they got caught on your plump thighs. briefly, he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked but soon enough something else caught his attention. as you shifted in your seat, he caught a glimpse of the inside of your jacket, a quick glint reflecting from inside told him you were indeed carrying a weapon. he made sure to keep that in the back of his mind.
a man such as himself, wide shouldered and intimidating, was hard to ignore. if you didn’t notice him staring from the corner of your eyes, you were sure the heat of his stare would’ve burned a hole through your skin. needless to say, he had caught your attention as well, except you seemed to be better at hiding it.
once the momentary shock subsided, he smiled. the fact that such a dangerous person would regularly order hot chocolates from a bar was amusing to him.
noticing the change in expression, you glance at him. what the hell? seeing a man grinning at you was unsettling. a man with such broad shoulders who could probably easily overpower you. his face looked familiar, you realised, but couldn’t quite attach a name to it quite yet.
unsure of what to do and what this man may want from you, you turned away and engaged in a conversation with the bartender as he prepared your drink, all the while ignoring the man at your side. as soon as you finished your drink, you placed some cash on the counter and got up, swiftly walking out of the bar.
while your goal was to get away, you didn’t take the fact that he might follow you into account.
“don’t go yet, little outlaw, i’d like to talk to you about something.”
his voice was rather calm and even, but still left minimal room for discussion. you rolled your eyes before turning around with a completely different expression—eyes wide and innocent, lashes fluttering, eyebrows raised.
“you must be mistaken, sir, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
he chuckled and took some steps forward and that’s when you recognised him. shit. he slowly walked over to you, speaking to you in that same calm voice with a sprinkle of cockiness somewhere in it. “playing dumb? really? for someone as smart as yourself i’d expect you to know that the 1 billion won bounty on your head doesn’t hide you.”
you sighed at his words, taking steps back to maintain the distance. there was no use continuing the innocent act, snapping at him, “what do you want?”
“do you know who i am?”
“of course i do, the whole city does. do you think i live under a rock?” you scoffed a laugh.
he dismissed your sarcasm, being used to having to deal with such cheeky mouths. “i have an offer.” when you didn’t reply, he continued. “help me and my… business partner with a heist.”
that was not what you expected.
“hmm… no, thanks.” you smiled up at him but nearly faltered as your back hit the wall of an alley you had unknowingly backed yourself into. you cursed yourself silently as he stood right in front of you, so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact.
“i wasn’t asking, darling.” he looked down at you, expression nearly sneering as he held an air of superiority about him. “you either agree or you’ll wake up behind bars tomorrow morning.”
“you can’t arrest me or turn me in, they’ll forget all about me since you’re the more wanted one out of the two of us.” you spoke matter-of-factly, a cocky tilt to the corner of your lips.
“i never said i would be the one to turn you in, little outlaw.”
“you know,” you hummed and moved your arms. his first assumption was that you were reaching for the dagger he glimpsed inside your jacket earlier, instinctively catching your wrists in his grasp as your words died in your throat and your breath hitched. he shifted his grip to place both of your wrists in one hand, holding them up above your head as his free hand nudged your jacket open, revealing the dagger.
he clicked his tongue patronisingly and fished it out delicately. his eyes shifted to yours, eyebrows raising in a silent question as he tossed the weapon over his shoulder. the metal blade clinked and echoed in the barren alleyway. he kept your wrists in his hold but lowered your arms, holding them at the height of your hips.
he leaned forward, speaking into your ear lowly as you suppressed a shudder. “you may continue.”
you glared at him and had the sudden urge to punch the shit eating grin off his face. “what’s in it for me?”
“um…” his face went blank and he leaned back to look at you, clearly not a single thought processing behind those cat-like eyes. “is there anything you want in particular?”
“protection.” you said simply, tilting your head.
“oh,” he nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in confusion but he kept his eyes on you. “but can’t you find that in any store?”
he felt a hit against his shin as you kicked him lightly. “ew not that. i meant… well, doing what i do, there’s a lot of people after me. you have the means to have some of your guys make sure i don’t run into any trouble.”
san nodded understandingly, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. not that you minded. “that’s perfectly possible, yes.”
you exhaled, relieved. warm air fanning against his neck as you did so. “okay, then, i’m in. so what is it you need me to do?”
this time he released your wrists completely and took a step back, reaching into an inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a little card with one hand as the other brought your hand up.
he brushed his hand over your closed fist, opening your fingers up to reveal your palm, placing the card in your palm before gently nudging your fingers to close over it. in a swift move, he turned your hand around and bowed forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to your knuckles—eyes locked on yours as you stared back at him in bewilderment.
he lifted his lips, smirking at you as he straightened up, hands moving to the bottom of his blazer and tugging, stretching the wrinkles away. “i expect to see you tomorrow at dusk, little blue bird.”
with a wink, he turned on his heels and walked away. you watched him, listening to the echoing footsteps as he left the alley and disappeared around a corner, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall with burning cheeks.
you weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived at the address on the card choi san gave you. perhaps an underground bunker that looked nothing like the breathtaking estate you stood in front of.
the building was tucked within a small forest far from the outskirts of night city. the architecture seemed foreign and classical, a building you’d roam through whilst listening to tchaikovsky or chopin—not a building you’d expect to scheme against the government in. though, you supposed in some aspects it fit the aesthetic san had going on. sipping whiskey in a fully tailored suit, the smell of cigarette smoke and mint heavy in the air around him.
you walked up to the grand double doors, taking a moment to admire the intricate carvings before ringing the bell. less than a minute later, the right door swung open to reveal a stranger.
he wore wide dark jeans and a black and white plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his chiselled collarbones and practically half of his torso. his black hair was slicked back with a few strands framing his face with the dainty square glasses he wore, some hanging silver earrings on display. he was, completely objectively speaking, handsome.
his eyes roamed over you, taking in your appearance before smiling and crossing his arms, leaning his side against the door as he pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head. you noticed a mole on his face—a small dot just under his left eye. “so you’re the little outlaw san told me about, huh?”
“yes, and you are?” you knew who he was, of course, but pleasantries were pleasantries nonetheless.
“jung wooyoung, but you already knew that.”
you chuckled and put your arms up in surrender, “oh no, i’ve been caught.”
his laugh was rather high pitched as he ushered you in. “come in, it gets cold at night.”
he led you through the house, stopping by what he referred to as his office but really looked like a sitting room with soft lighting and a desk to grab some rolled up papers before continuing the walk. the interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; intricate paintings and marble floors. wooyoung smiled as he saw the awe-stricken look on your face.
he led you to another set of double doors, pushing both of them open and stepping through without looking back to make sure you were following. now this was an office.
your jaw nearly dropped as you walked into the room, spinning a full circle to gawk at the various bookshelves that lined the walls and high ceiling that looked like it came straight out of the sistine chapel. a large fireplace cast a warm, yet still dark, glow over the room, making it look that much more impressive. a graceful vintage couch with two matching armchair were placed in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table nestled between the seats and the source of light and warmth.
the floor creaked with every step you took, being made of dark wooden planks instead of marble.
you flinched as you heard san’s familiar voice snapping you out of your stupor. “pick your jaw up, you might catch flies.”
at the sound of his voice, you whipped around and glared at him after quickly pulling yourself together. he was sat in a leather chair at his impressive desk, wooyoung sat (balanced) on the arm of the chair.
you walked over and stood across from them in front of the desk. “it’s a nice house, are you two the only ones that live here?”
wooyoung took the chance to answer. “sometimes. there’s six others that are part of our… syndicate, but they stay in other places, surrounding grey city.”
“enough of that.” san waved his hand dismissively and leaned forward. as he did so, your eyes were drawn to his chest. he wore a white button up, though it appeared to be a bit tight judging by the way the fabric around the buttons strained every time he moved. your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of them brought it up. “woo, the plans, please.”
the plan was set to take place the months after you had met with them for the first time. this gave you three to prepare, to memorise the layout and every detail about the building you’ll be infiltrating. for this preparation, you frequented their estate often—nearly every day—and spent hours with them. two weeks in, they offered you one of their guest bedrooms to stay in.
at first wooyoung got on your nerves, but soon enough you grew accustomed to his antics—the clinginess, the teasing. eventually, you even found yourself liking it and seeking it out.
san was slightly more reserved at first, more serious. but soon he, too, let down his guard. encouraging words, affectionate touches.
the more time you spent with them, the more you found yourself relaxing, letting them handle you with care instead of pushing them away like you used to with so many people before them. and eventually you, dare you say, began liking them.
you couldn’t deny the way san’s sharp snd perceptive eyes made you want to squirm under his gaze as he watched you bend over his desk to point something out on the building’s floor plan. you couldn’t deny the way his gentle commands (“do this for me please.” “come here, princess.”) had butterflies roaring in your stomach.
and wooyoung. while san was indeed quite physically affectionate, it was nothing compared to wooyoung. lingering touches and smooth words. sometimes you’d be grabbing something in kitchen and he’d come by, pulling you aside by your hips to grab something. later that day you’d offered to cook something up for dinner, but he only tutted and lifted you by your waist to place you on the marble island counter (“i don’t trust you in my kitchen, baby. just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”). jung wooyoung was a flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.
two days before the heist, you walked into san’s office after waking up and not being able to find woo. in the time you’d spent with them, you had learned that san acquired the bigger and fancier office by winning a game of rock paper scissors.
as you opened the door, the cat-eyed man looked up from whatever he was working on, smiling as he watched you yawn and stretch on your way over to him. he gave you a once over; you wore an oversized shirt, the collar shifted and hanging over one shoulder, the end of the shirt ending halfway down your thighs.
“sleep well?” he asked, putting his pen down as you stopped in front of the desk. he’d woken up not too long before you, still in his sleepwear, hair tussled but somehow still perfect.
you nodded, your voice soft in your sleepy state, “where’s woo?”
“he went out to get stuff for dinner,” he chuckled as he heard the slight concern in your voice. he pushed his chair back slightly and patted his lap. “come sit here while i work, princess.”
you grinned and walked around the desk, claiming his lap as your seat. you leaned back against him, back pressed to his front. he kissed your exposed shoulder chastely and got back to work. you tried to look down at his papers to see what he was doing, but the way his unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist and shifted you slightly (in a way that accidentally made his thigh rub against certain areas) had your mind going blank, unable to focus on anything other than his touch.
though you couldn’t see it, san also had a hard time focusing. every time you moved, your ass brushed over his pelvis. it was clear he didn’t think it through when he told you to sit on him since now he was having a hard time holding himself back, a bulge growing in his sweatpants.
you shifted again, trying to find a position where none of his body parts rubbed against your core, and he sucked a sharp breath in. his hands practically flew to your hips to hold you still.
“princess, i need you to sit still or i might go crazy, okay?” he spoke softly into your ear, hot breaths brushing against your skin and making you shiver, a fact he noticed and made him smirk. maybe he was already going crazy, but just a little more wouldn’t hurt, right?
he kept his lips by your ear for a moment before moving down slightly, placing them just below your earlobe. it was your turn for your breath to hitch, tilting your head to give him more space. he nearly groaned at the subtle act of submission, burying his face into your skin and kissing his way down to the crook of your neck.
time seemed to slow as his hands tightened on your hips, he scraped his teeth along your neck before biting down gently, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a breathy whine. when the sound left your lips, he froze.
when you noticed he wasn’t doing anything, you whined again and rolled your hips over his pelvis, dropping your head back on his shoulder. the action surprised yourself too. you’d had sex, of course, but it was never a necessity for you. even when the opportunity presented itself, you wouldn’t chase after it. yet here you were, wordlessly begging him to continue. what had these men done to you?
“is this okay?” he whispered.
you nodded immediately, turning your head to look at him. his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace—a silent plea for him to have his way with you, release the tension that’s built up over the previous three months. without waiting a second longer, he attached his lips to your neck again, a certain roughness to the way he caressed your skin with his lips and his tongue and his teeth.
you melted against him and let your eyes fall shut when you felt his hands slip shirt off, tossing it on his desk, and then rest against your bare waist, fingertips brushing over the skin making a shiver run down your spine. a voice that wasn’t his had your eyes flying open, your body freezing for a moment before you realised who it was.
“you two just couldn’t wait for me?” wooyoung pouted, leaning against the desk in front of the chair you and san occupied. san chuckled against your neck while you stared at wooyoung, dumbfounded, unexpected excitement stirring in your abdomen.
he looked from your face, to san’s smirk, and then down at the way your hips tried finding the right angle to grind on san’s lap. a dark chuckle left wooyoung’ slips and he leaned forward, hands coming to rest on your knees.
“need help with that, doll?” he tilted his head, a mocking pout gracing his lips as he cooed at you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek for a moment as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
your eyes practically twinkled as you looked up at him, pupils dilated as you nod helplessly. wooyoung smiled and patted your cheek affectionately, pecking your forehead again before sinking to his knees in between yours and san’s legs, kissing his way down your body. your eyes tracked him and his slow descent, breath held in anticipation.
“cute,” he giggled as he eyed your pink panties, slipping them off your legs and tossing them aside. he hooked your legs on either side of san’s, spreading them apart, looking up at you. “just relax, be a good girl and keep your legs like that for me, yeah?”
when you nodded, he kissed your inner thigh followed by a quiet groan as he noticed the arousal dripping from your cunt. “oh, doll, you’re so wet.”
“hm, is she?” san chimed in, one of of his hands leaving your waist to dip down and casually slide a finger through your folds; from bottom to top, applying more pressure the further he slid. you prepared yourself for his finger to get to your clit but, much to your dismay, he removed his hand just before he got there. you suppressed the urge to glare at him over your shoulder. simultaneously, wooyoung began leaving pecks all over your inner thighs.
san hummed and pressed another kiss just below your ear, whispering, his voice thick with lust, “all that and we barely even started. what a pathetic, needy mess, huh?”
the way he said it made it clear he expected an answer from you, but with how wooyoung ran a single finger through your folds, you couldn’t do much but shudder and nod. san clicked his tongue and snaked his hands further up from your waist just under your breasts, fingers brushing circles over your nipples. he waited patiently to give you more time to answer.
wooyoung’s tongue slipped out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit and both your brain practically short-circuited. the combination of the feeling of his tongue and his wide, glossy eyes peering up at you from between your legs sending your mind reeling. he groaned as he tasted you, swearing in his head that he’d probably finish in his pants within five minutes. a sudden pinch of your nipples had you snapping out of your trance.
“say it, princess.”
“ah- i’m a mess.”
“and why are you a mess?”
you opened your mouth to answer but your own moan cut you off as wooyoung began circling your clit with his tongue. san’s lips backed away from your ear and he looked down at wooyoung, signalling for him to stop by holding up his flat palm. your chest heaved with heavy breaths as wooyoung reluctantly removed his tongue and leaned back just an inch, giving you a moment to recover.
“he won’t continue until you tell me why you’re a mess, baby.”
“because of you,” you whined, trying to press your hips closer to wooyoung’s face but to no avail as san moved his hands back down to hold you firmly by those hips he loved so much.
“good girl, that’s right,” he cooed into your ear, giving you a tender kiss. “you’re our pathetic needy mess, aren’t you?”
“your mess. i’m your mess.”
at the confirmation, san looked down at wooyoung and nodded. not even a second later wooyoung’s mouth was back on you. one of san’s hands stayed to control your hips and the other went back to massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples.
wooyoung’s pace was relentless. he ate you out like a man starved, licking up all the juices that seeped from you while he made sure to nudge his nose against your clit repeatedly. when his mouth wasn’t at your entrance, he had his lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between rhythmic sucks and prods of his tongue, one of his fingers teasingly circling your hole.
he swore he could’ve gotten drunk off your taste, finding the way you writhed in san’s lap so cute. wooyoung momentarily removed his mouth from you once again, watching your face as he tentatively pushed his finger past your entrance. he spoke, voice somewhere between a hoarse groan and a sigh.
“fuck…”
you threw your head back on san’s shoulder, suddenly aware of the hard erection pressed against your ass. you tried to rock your hips just a bit, wanting to help him, but his fingers tightened on your hips.
“keep being such a good girl and i’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name, but i need you to be patient. okay, princess?”
your breath hitches and you nodded at his promise, your attention being drawn back to the man between your legs as he added another finger. your breathing grew erratic.
“mmm, so tight.” he groaned, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappeared into your before slipping out again, more and more of your slick seeping out with each thrust of his digits. wet sounds reverberated through the room as you let out a silent curse.
you thought your noises were kept to a minimum, too embarrassed to really let loose, but as soon as he curled his fingers in you—easily finding that spongey sweet spot—a proper moan ripped itself out of you. and then his tongue was back on your clit, not as firmly as you would’ve liked but enough to draw out more moans and whimpers.
at first, he took his time, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a frustrating pace, tongue only lightly brushing over your swollen pearl. but soon enough, he sped up gradually until he reached a speed that had you crying out and arching your back with every inch that he moved. all the while san muttered encouragement into your ear.
“mhm, you’re taking his fingers so well, princess.”
“can’t wait to have my cock in your tight little pussy. don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.”
“look at you, being fucked dumb just from his fingers. you can barely even keep your eyes open, huh?”
you thought you were controlling yourself well but the moment wooyoung added a third finger, the stretch burning just slightly though your wetness kept things moving smoothly, the moment san spoke all those filthy words in your ear, you felt yourself crashing over the edge. it all felt so good you didn’t even realise you were climaxing until you felt yourself shaking and stars swarming your vision.
a high pitched cry ripped through your lips, moaning wooyoung’s name as he takes his fingers out so he can slurp up your release, groaning against you. you tasted so good and if he could, he would have bottled up all the sounds you made to listen to them before bed every night. san planted tender kisses to your jaw and shoulder as wooyoung eventually removed himself.
he looked almost as fucked out as you, drunk of the juices of your pussy as he slowly got up. he took your face in his clean hand and eagerly pressed his lips against yours, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. the two of you made out slowly, sloppily, and he slowly trailed his hands down. tracing the curve of your waist before settling his hands on your hips, guiding them to grind over san’s length.
you followed his lead, arching your back to position your pussy right over his erection. that seemed to have made san lose all his composure, rasping out harshly, “woo, please lift her up for a moment.”
moments later, you were back in his lap, this time his long cock buried deep in your cunt. his hands guided your movements, his thrusts matching the pace of the roll of your hips. though he wasn’t able to see your face, fucking you in a reverse cowgirl position, he could image how fucked out you looked. cheeks painted red, glazed over eyes, swollen lips, messed up hair.
wooyoung separated his lips from you, chuckling against your mouth. you struggled to kiss him, san feeling so good in you that you had a hard time thinking straight. “does he feel good, babydoll?”
you nodded and leaned forward just slightly to attach you lips to his pretty neck, mindlessly kissing and licking your way down to his collarbones. wooyoung tilted his head back, another dark chuckle. he thought you were so cute—making sure to give him attention even though you were bouncing in another man’s dick. said man groaned and slumped back in the seat at the change of angle as you leaned forward, not pausing his movements once. ever since he first bottomed out in you he had trouble putting together sentences.
your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. most of them were undone anyway, he liked it like that when he wore button-ups, but you wanted it completely off. he noticed your trembling hands struggling and took over for you, ignoring the buttons and just pulling off the shirt. your eyes roamed over him, jaw slack.
“you’re so pretty, woo.” you whispered after burying your face in his neck again, any filter you had on your words completely gone.
“i think you’re pretty too, doll,” he chuckled into your ear. “so pretty getting off on me and sannie at once.”
you leaned back and looked him over, darting between his eyes and the erection straining against the trousers with pleading, half closed eyes. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you wanted, making him coo as he understood you.
“oh, you want my cock? you wanna suck it? just one shoved inside you doesn’t satisfy you enough, huh, you pretty little slut?”
your head empty, unable to focus on anything other than the two men you were trapped between, you nodded. san groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.
“fuck- she likes that.”
“is that so?” wooyoung straightened up and grinned down at you, holding your jaw in his hand. “well, then, go ahead, doll, do as you please.”
at he sound of his permission, your hands found their way to his trousers, undoing the fly and letting them fall to the ground. you could already see the shape of it through his boxers, but didn’t pause to inspect it, hooking your fingers on his waistband and pulling it down to release him.
while his length was impressive, it didn’t look quite as long as san’s but rather thicker. compared to every dick you’ve seen, you decided jung wooyoung had a pretty one. the blushing tip leaked precum that you smeared around to stroke him slowly.
you looked up at him every time you tried something new with your hands, looking for his reaction—running your thumb over his tip, squeezing lightly as your hand moved down. no mater what you did, it elicited a deep moan from him. you looked entranced as you watched the way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. you leaned forward (both you and san moaning and shuddering at the change in angle), pressing a kiss to his tip.
this new angle had san pounding against your sweet spot repeatedly without fail, making you suddenly feel like jello. still, you tried your best to focus on the task literally at hand.
wooyoung noticed your lack of concentration, threading his fingers in your hair and gently pulling to make you look up. he pouted at you mockingly. “can’t think straight enough with sannie’s cock stuffed in you? it’s ok, doll, you look so pretty and fucked out i could cum just from looking at you.”
you shook your head and pushed forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking your mouth down on his length to the best of your abilities.
wooyoung groaned, “that’s it, doll, there you go. you can take just a little more, can’t you, pretty girl?”
eager to please him, you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. you felt him hit the back of your throat and pulled back, coughing around his length. he slipped his hand out of your hair and stroke your cheek, prompting you to glance up at him.
“you’re doing well, doll, just remember to breathe through your nose. i know you can take me just a bit deeper.”
you nodded at his words, swallowing a little more, and wrapped a hand around the rest that you couldn’t fit, stroking him slowly as you led your mouth get used to the feeling. truth be told, you hadn’t given anyone head before, completely relying on your intuition now.
“yeah, there you go, my pretty little doll. i knew you could do it.”
as you mouth worked on wooyoung, you felt that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen. san must’ve been close too, letting out a hearty groan as he gripped your hips tighter and thrusted up into you faster. every time he pulled you down and snapped his hip up to meet you, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against your and his balls hitting your clit had you whining against wooyoung’s cock.
he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering before cooing down at you. “what was that, doll? i couldn’t quite hear you.”
you continued with the sucking and stroking until you thought it was impossible, repeatedly shaking too much to keep a steady pace. but you could tell wooyoung was close judging by his sounds and pulsating, and still wanting to please him, you kept your lips around his head as you hand stroked him as fast as you could.
moments later, his body tensed and he came into your mouth. the thick, slightly salty substance ran down your throat as you swallowed it all down. when you were sure he was done, you pulled yourself off him. wooyoung looked ready to pass out, leaning against the desk and staring up at the ceiling as he panted, catching his breath. silent curses left his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.
now with wooyoung taken care of, you leaned back against san, revelling in the feeling of him pounding into you as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. you heard him gasp by your ear and you clenched down on him.
“f-fuck… i’m gonna cum.”
oh how san loves fucking you. loves the way your walls flutter around his cock. loves all the sounds you make that he was sure you weren’t even aware of. how you writhe and jerk and shudder and whine and moan and he could go on for days.
“please, sannie,” you whined softly, “please, fill me up, please please please.”
that was the last straw. the desperation in your voice has his stomach flipping and he came just as you finished your begging. a shiver ran down your spine as your body went limp. he kept himself buried in you as one of his hands slide down to rub quick and tight circles on your clit, quickly bringing you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.
once all three of you calmed down and got cleaned up, you found yourself relaxing on san’s lap again. this time, you were on one of the couches in the living room as wooyoung sat beside you. while you were in the shower, he cooked up some instant noodles, feeding them to you now.
a hand stroked the outside of your thigh comfortingly as you slurped down the last of the noodles, you recognised it as san’s hand. your legs still felt like jello and you cuddled into him as wooyoung got up to put the bowl away. you felt san press a kiss to the top of your head, practically cradling you.
“you did well, my little blue bird,” he whispered against the crown of your head and pulled you closer, “i could stay like this all day.”
“too bad because it’s my turn now.” wooyoung buckled as he returned, collapsing on the couch and snatching you of san’s grasp without warning. he stuck his tongue out at san as he held the back of you head and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, making you giggle.
san whined and reached his hands out to grab you again only to be swatted away by woo. “hey! no fair.”
“yes, it is fair,” wooyoung giggled, “you’ve had her on your lap long enough.” his best friend glared at him and muttered something under his breath as he looked away with his arms crossed.
“oh, you big baby,” you laughed as you turned your head to look at him. extending you hand to pat his knee.
san’s eyes flashed as an idea lit up in his head. he grinned as he wrapped his arms around both you and wooyoung. you weren’t sure how it happened but next thing you knew, all three of you were laying down on the couch, the two men sandwiching you lovingly.
you felt yourself blush and your brain going blank. wooyoung laughed at the expression on your face, leaning forward to kiss you until san reached over and flicked his forehead. they proceeded to argue about who should be able to kiss you more as you sighed contentedly. you realised there was no other place in earth you’d prefer to be in more than right here, nestled between the two men who you knew would take good care of you.
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worksby-d · 6 months
Text
About The Other Night...
Pairing: dilf!Andy Barber x babysitter!Reader
Summary: Seeing Andy for the first time since he fucked you in his car on the way to a Halloween party. (Part one)
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Warnings: Age gap, Andy’s imaginary younger kid I made up to make the plot work, smut – oral (f receiving), biting, protected sex (they remembered condoms exist thank god), me continuing to convince everyone Andy has tattoos, 18+
Word count: ~2,900
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He’s all you’ve been able to think about. 
It’s been weeks of flashbacks to that night in his car. His hands on your body, whispers of praise in your ear, the marks you left on his skin. 
You left the party early that night, unable to get him out of your head. Your clothes faintly smelled like him as you laid in bed once you got home, staring at the ceiling. And you came again, thinking back to just a few hours prior, chasing that same, euphoric feeling.
It wasn’t nearly as good of an orgasm as he gave you though and you let out a frustrated sigh, clenching your eyes shut to force yourself asleep, hoping you could just sleep your feelings away. 
You refrained from texting or calling him since then. You wanted nothing more than to make sense of what happened… Maybe apologize for coming onto him. But would you mean it? 
It doesn’t matter. 
You knew it shouldn’t happen again. 
But what he said… “I usually take my time with people I like,” and then “Another time?” when you wouldn’t let him do that. It kept running through your mind, making you wonder if he was thinking of you too. 
To your surprise, he texted you first. No mention of your rendezvous, just straight to the point, asking if you could babysit his daughter again so he could take care of some work business while Jacob is at a friend’s house. 
You almost replied instantly, but forced yourself to wait, not wanting it to be obvious you’d been hoping to hear from him again, even if it was just to ask a favor. That means he’s not upset with you. 
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As you sit in your car in his driveway, your mind races with what you’re going to say to him or what he’s going to say to you. Your eyes fixate on the time and you wait until the last possible minute to put your brave face on and walk into their house. 
Lucky for you, he’s in a rush. You walk in to him giving his daughter a hug and kiss goodbye. And with a short–but genuine–Thank you, Y/N, he’s out the door. 
On second thought, you don’t know if that’s really lucky for you. 
You let out a sigh as you watch him and hear the door shut behind him. Great. You get to spend the next couple hours continuing to battle your nerves. 
Maybe you do wish you would have just gotten addressing the elephant in the room over with. 
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When he gets home a few hours later, his daughter is sound asleep in her room. You’re an expert at wearing her out and getting her to sleep at a reasonable time, probably why the Barbers have kept you around. 
You’re in his kitchen when you hear his footsteps come into the house. Instant sweaty palms make putting the dishes from dinner away harder. You almost drop them completely when you hear his voice behind you. 
“Hey…” 
Letting out a faint breath, you brace yourself and turn to look at him. “Hi.”
You wish you could say the smile on your face is a fake, forced one, but it’s not. Not when he looks like that. Like he had a long day and needs someone to tell him to relax. Maybe help him relax. 
You inwardly curse yourself. This is pathetic, there’s no way he’s still thinking about you, so you need to be over it.
The awkward silence that sets in is undeniable. A silence that neither of you quite know how to sever. 
“About the other night…” 
What the hell, apparently you’re giving it a shot first.
He interrupts you before you can go any further. “What about it?”
He smirks and the look on your face mirrors his, relieved to hear his joking tone. 
“I…” You try to go on anyway, but the words you’ve been rehearsing in your head have fled. You’re instantly flustered, hiding your face in your hands.
He takes the last few steps it takes to be standing in front of you and places his hands on your shoulders. 
“Everything is fine,” he promises, rubbing his hands along your arms, encouraging you to drop them. “Look at me.”
You do and your smile falters. “Seriously… I shouldn’t have come onto you like that.”
Shaking your head, you open your mouth again to apologize, but he stops you. 
He leans closer, causing you to still, nearly holding your breath. 
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he whispers. 
Fuck, that's what you were hoping for.
His warm breath against your ear brings back the memories of how close you were in the front seat of his car. You have to swallow back a whimper. 
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either,” you admit. 
He takes that, along with the fact that you haven’t tried to move away from where he has you backed up against the counter, as an OK to be the one to make the first move this time. 
His lips ghost dangerously close to your neck, pressing a soft kiss below your ear. You can’t stop a whimper from escaping this time. 
“Andy,” you sigh, tilting your head for him. 
You’re a little apprehensive yet, not because you don’t want this again, but because you can’t help but hear that voice in the back of your head saying you shouldn’t.
He can feel your nerves as if they’re radiating from you. His kisses trail down your neck while his hands leave the counter behind you, resting on your hips. 
“I won’t bite,” he teases, trying to put you at ease. But you feel his smile against your skin. “Actually… I remember you’re into that.”
That gets you to giggle. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him tighter against you so you can hide your face against his chest. 
He lets up momentarily, laughter fading so he can be serious. “I’ll stop if you want me to…”
“Don’t.” 
The word comes out quick, desperation clear in your voice. 
“I don’t want you to stop.”
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Him guiding you toward his couch and kneeling between your parted legs is all a blur. 
He looks at you for approval as his hands slide up your thighs, fingers hooking in the waistbands of your sweats and panties. 
“My turn, yeah?” He winks. 
You bite your lip, your answer coming in the form of silently ridding yourself of your clothes for him. 
“Good girl.” His hands return to your hips to help position you, pulling you closer, while his broad shoulders spread your legs further. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Your head falls back against the cushions. This is what your last couple weeks worth of dreams were made of. 
“Please–” 
Your plea is cut off by your own gasp as he begins placing tender kisses along your inner thigh, teasingly nipping your sensitive skin, enough to leave marks similar to the ones you left on him.
You can’t help but squirm, aching for him already. Your hands rest on his head, fingers threading through his hair, tugging ever so gently. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re being impatient.
“I told you, I take my time with people I like.” His words are mumbled between kisses, getting closer to where you want him with each one. 
“God, I was kind of hoping you weren’t serious about that.” Your breathless laugh is followed by a moan when his lips reach your clit. 
“I was very serious, but lucky for you…” His voice trails off as his tongue teases along your slit before focusing back on your clit. “You're very hard to resist right now.”
“Oh, fuck,” you sigh. 
Your hands pull his face closer and he doesn’t fight it, devouring your pussy like he can’t get enough.
He has you in a haze, failing to notice your moans are getting louder with each lap of his tongue. 
You take in a deep breath when he suddenly pulls away, pressing soothing kisses to your thighs again. 
“You sound so pretty,” he teases. “But you gotta stay quiet for me.”
“Sorry,” you giggle. “It just feels so good.” 
“I know, and I want to keep making you feel good, but you gotta be quiet, angel.” 
Angel. You smile, but immediately try to suppress it. You definitely don’t mind that nickname sticking, but you can’t believe he has you grinning like an idiot while he’s between your thighs. 
Nodding quickly, you promise to keep it down. You just need him to keep going, pulling at his hair again to give him a clue. 
He catches on right away, chuckling as he gives in to you. Your eyes roll back as he hums contentedly against your sensitive cunt. 
“Cum for me, baby,” he murmurs without pulling away, noting how your body reacts to the vibrations from his voice. “Come on.” 
Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, quieting the moans you can't hold in as you let go for him. You lose yourself in the sensation of the high he gives you, body trembling as he works you through it, completely unfazed by your thighs pressing against the sides of his head as the pleasure becomes too much.
“Andy,” you gasp when you can trust yourself to control the volume of your voice again. Your fingers unravel from his hair and he takes that as his sign to ease up. He can't get enough of you though, causing your body to jerk with a few lingering kisses to your swollen folds. “Holy hell.” 
His hands rub your sides and along your thighs as you calm down. Glancing back down at him, you can't help but let out a laugh. He furrows his brow, concerned he did something wrong, but you grab his hands reassuringly.
“Sorry,” you shake your head. “I've just never came from that before. That was… Crazy.” 
Barking out a laugh laced with disbelief, he sits back and pulls you by the hands to sit up too. “What kind of useless guys have you been with?” 
“I don't know,” you chuckle, biting your lip nervously. “But there's only one guy I wanna be with right now.” 
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He has an arm around your waist as you walk into his bedroom. You joked–but not really–that you didn't know if you could walk after how he made your legs shake.
He sits you on the edge of the bed while he quickly steps back toward the door, locking it out of habit. 
“I won't make you be so quiet in here,” he whispers, leaning over you, gently pushing you back to lay down. 
“Good,” you giggle, pulling him down with you for a kiss.
You both make quick of discarding the rest of your clothes. Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt as you rush to undo them. He takes over when he feels your frustrated groan against his lips. 
“Easy, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he quips, poking fun at your desperate movements.
A wave of embarrassment flushes over you, heat creeping up your chest and across your face. It’s quickly forgotten as he sits up to slip his shirt off though. Your eyes drift down his body, jaw dropping slightly as you take in his toned features that you didn’t get to see last time. 
“Eyes up here, pretty girl.” He brings your attention back by cupping your face as he hovers over you again, getting you to look back in his eyes. There’s a teasing glint in them as his thumb strokes your cheek. “What’s that look for?”
Your hands press against his chest, moving up to his shoulders where your fingers trace along lines of black ink. “You have tattoos…” 
He drops his head, stifling the laugh he lets out with a kiss to your shoulder. 
“Don’t tell me you’ve taken me for a prude of an old man all this time.”
“I…” Shit, you kinda did. 
You dodge his question by moving your hands to his face to pull him down, closing the small gap that’s left between you with a kiss.
“We’re coming back to that later,” he jokes against your lips.
Your guilty giggle quickly turns into a small whine as you roll your hips, needy for the feeling of his cock again. 
You let your hand fall from the back of his neck, moving between your bodies. He groans feeling your fingers wrap around his hard length.
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths of anticipation, but you have one last moment of clarity before fully giving into him. 
“Wait,” you whisper. 
He stops instantly, pushing himself up just enough to look at you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing.” You shake your head, catching your breath. “Do you have condoms?”
“Uh, yeah, I…” He points toward a nightstand, but he doesn’t finish his sentence, a flash of panic on his face. “Are you not on–”
“I am,” you quickly assure him. Nothing happened, but that doesn’t mean you should do it again. “That was just kind of stupid of us last time.”
“Right.” You’re relieved when he laughs with you. “One second.”
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Pleasure-filled moans from both of you fill the room as his cock finally sinks into you. Attempting to get him to move, you wrap your legs around him. 
“I need a second, angel,” he chuckles, leaning to kiss you while you both get used to the feeling of each other again. “You’re–” He lets out a groan. “You feel so good.”
Your kisses travel to his cheek and along his jaw. “Please,” you beg quietly, grazing your teeth against the delicate skin beneath his ear.
Even though you’re imploring him, the first thrust takes you by surprise, a startled gasp falling from your lips as your head falls back against the bed. “Oh my God.”
“Attagirl,” he breathes out slowly, teasing you with equally slow drags of his cock in and out of you. “You can take it.”
“Uh-huh,” you nod weakly, mouth dropping open in a strangled moan as he sets a steady pace with his hips. 
His muscles flex underneath your fingertips, your hands grasping onto his upperarms as he fucks you harder. 
“That's right, hold on. I've got ya.” 
Those reassuring words drive you wild. He slides a hand down your side to grip the back of your thigh, pushing it off his waist to spread your legs further, allowing him to fuck you deeper. 
Your back arches, pushing your hips closer to his to feel him against your clit. The contact causes your legs to quiver, and you dig your nails into his arms.
“Damn.” You try to laugh, but it almost sounds like a sob. He's got you on the edge already. This is only your second time with him, how does he know your body so well? “How are you doing that?”
“Doing what, sweetheart?” He smirks knowingly, pressing fervent kisses to your neck. 
You let out a shaky breath. “You're so good.” 
“We've established you've been with useless guys,” he chuckles. 
You'd laugh too, but you can't focus on anything that's not the pleasure threatening to erupt deep inside you. 
“Please don't stop.” 
He doesn't halt you when you begin to move in tune with him, relentlessly rolling your hips, desperate for another orgasm. You can't bear the thought of going home and having to take care of it yourself again. You need to be spent tonight. 
“Let go.” His voice is low, close to your ear as he litters your jaw and shoulder with teasing bite marks. “Cum for me, Y/N.” 
“I–” Your breaths quicken as he thrusts into you and pulls almost all the way out before doing it again. And again. And– “Yes, right there!”
He groans feeling your pussy flutter around his dick, chasing after his own release as he prolongs yours. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
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Your fingers soothe over the scratches you're sure you left on his arms and back while he lays with you. After he pulled out, he shifted like he wanted to lay beside you, but you held onto him so he couldn't, liking the weight of him on top of you.
As if he can sense what you're thinking about the marks, he speaks up softly after a few shuddering breaths. “It’s okay.” 
“Okay,” you chuckle. 
To your dismay, he rolls on to his side once his breathing has steadied so he can prop himself up on an elbow. He rests a hand on your cheek, quieting your protest. “Do you need anything?” He reaches over you for a blanket to cover you with before holding your face again. 
“Just sleep,” you sigh dramatically. The exhaustion is definitely hitting you though, it's not a total exaggeration. “Now I really don't think I can walk, by the way.” 
He laughs at you. “Don't worry, I'm not kickin' you out.” 
Good because you're two seconds away from falling asleep.
“But the kids…” You slur out the few words. 
“If they see you, I'll tell them I got home late, so you slept over.” 
“Are you sure–”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he cuts you off with a kiss to your forehead, teasing you. “You worry so much. Leave that to me.” 
“Sorry,” you smile, offering him a wink that turns into both of your eyes falling shut for good. “Goodnight, Mr. Barber.”
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Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby
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bunnycvnts · 2 months
Text
rafe being told ‘i love you’ for the first time!
pairing: rafe x reader
warnings: fluffy as fuck
his arm was tightly wrapped around you as the two of you lay in his plush bed, the curtains pulled closed, and his LED lights shone a soft purple color. rafes favorite movie played on the tv, but neither of you were paying attention, too wrapped up in the sweet kisses shared between you. your lips felt like warm, soft pillows pressing into his; he could never get enough of the way you kissed him. like if you kissed him too roughly, he’d pull away. you were always gentle, making sure every emotion was felt carefully through your lips, comforting his soul. that wasn’t to say you weren’t fervent sometimes, but you kept a kind of softness he’d never felt before.
you two had spent the entire day swaddled in blankets, switching between movies, sharing kisses and sweet whispers, and making sure you were as close as possible. his hand was either around your shoulder or splayed across your stomach or hips, never letting you far from his reach. he’d been struggling lately, with harmful thoughts and feelings clouding his brain, and his only escape was his pretty little girlfriend, who hadn’t had a care in the world. being with you was like floating; his worries went away, and all he could see was you. a bright light in his sea of darkness.
he wasn’t sure why you were with him and was constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. for you to realize he was psychotic, angry, and hard to be around, like everyone else had. that you’d turn around one day and not look back, leaving him behind without a second thought. he wasn’t shy with his arguments or anger; he was never in the right mindset to hide it from you. but you’d never questioned him, only ever tried to calm him. you’d saved many people from feeling his wrath and saved him so many lectures from his father. you weren’t trying to change him; he knew that. you were just trying to ease the burden he felt weighing on his brain.
days like this were his escape with you. spending hours feeling your soft skin pressed against his, your warm breath on his neck anytime you’d whisper about the movie or giggle at his reactions, your fingertips trailing down his shirtless chest, tracing random scribbles and hearts onto his skin. the way you’d blush anytime his hands crept a little too close to your ass or wiggled their way under your shirt to feel your warmth. it was practically a fever dream for him. no one had ever spent so much time carelessly lying around with him, not worrying about what they’d do next, only enjoying the moment with him. the first girl to make him feel something without having to involve sex.
he was broken from his thought process by your fingers tapping against his cheek.
“whatcha thinkin’ about over there?” a soft smile was on your lips, and he sat up a little to get a better look at you.
“cheesy shit. got my mind all messed up, ya know?” his response had made you giggle—that redness he loved returning to your cheeks. you pursed your lips as a silent gesture to kiss you. his lips met yours with a quick, gentle touch, and he only pulled away slightly to look at you. you were looking right back at him, a look in your eyes he couldn’t pinpoint.
suddenly, you sat up, throwing your leg over his hip to straddle him, and ran your fingers through his hair while his hands met your hips and squeezed lightly. “you’re so handsome.”
your fingertips trailed his cheek, and your thumb pulled on his bottom lip. he groaned and rested his head back against the headboard. his stomach fluttering at your words and the softness they held.
“stop it.” he knew you meant it, but hearing it turned his heart into mush, and he could only let himself be so soft.
“i love you.” the confession spilled from your lips before you could stop yourself. rafes head snapped forward to meet your gaze, looking at you confused. it was your turn to groan, and you pushed yourself off of his lap.
“stop, don’t look at me like that.” you ran your hands through your hair, feeling somewhat distraught at his reaction. had it been too soon? did he not feel the same way? you peeked over at him, doing a double take at his watery eyes.
“hey, i’m sorry; i shouldn’t have just thrown that on you. i can go.” you rushed to sit up and get off the bed, but were stopped when he pulled you into him. he kissed you with all the softness he could muster, both of his hands on your cheeks.
“no. i’m sorry. no one has ever said that to me before. no one i thought really meant it, at least. i love you, too. seriously. as mushy and corny as that sounds.” his confession saddened you but warmed you at the same time.
you rested your head on his chest, pressing small kisses to his skin and muttering little ‘i love yous’ after each one. blood rushed to his cheeks, and little laughs fell from his lips when you’d kiss ticklish spots. he felt emotions he couldn’t describe, but his heart was racing and his stomach felt like a zoo was shuffling around in him.
he pulled you up by the collar of your shirt and kissed you again, whispering something against your lips.
“my fucking girl.”
taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101 @ditzyzombiesblog @judessangel
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wyniepooh · 2 days
Text
Closer
you thought that you were already close with patrick and art; turns out, you could get even closer.
Boardingschool!patrick & boardingschool!art x boardingschool!reader.
it’s no secret that the three of you were close.
Everyone at school acknowledges it by joking that you’re practically their manager, because you’re on the bleachers at every practice, seated front row at every match, and whenever the game finishes, the first person they go running to is you.
in fact, you're all so close that you've developed a habit to follow them into the locker room after every practice. if anyone ever questioned your entry into the room, they’d both chime at the same time: “she’s ours.”
neither of them bat an eye when you sit down on the bench between the metal lockers and watch them get changed because it’s you, their little manager, and they didn’t ever hide anything from you.
You’d read them the daily school news, explain the daily school gossip, and update them on any homework they missed in the name of tennis practice. they’d thank you in their typical ways by ruffling your hair and throwing their sweaty shirts on you before sandwiching you in a suffocating hug.
You shriek and laugh and say, ‘stop it!’ but really, you’re too focused on the feel of their bare chests against you— slippery from sweat and hot from the heat— to care about anything else.
There’s always a brief moment after all the amusement when the laughter dissipates and you’re all just staring at each other. Your smile fades, and suddenly you’re painfully aware of their rapid breaths rising against you on either side, and the heat of it all fills the silent air with something else other than just audible breaths.
Today it’s patrick who looks over to art first, who returns his stare with pressed lips. you catch a flicker of something in their eyes, but they looked away before you could decipher it. However, it was clear that a silent agreement had been reached right in front of you. you suspect that for the first time since you transferred to the school, they were hiding something from you.
patrick breaks the silence first, turning slightly away from you to gently close his locker as he murmurs, “you know, there have been a lot of rumours on campus lately.”
You scoffed, stuffing your agenda into your bag before smoothing a hand over your hair. “Really? What kind of rumours?”
Patrick shrugged. He pulled a shirt over his shoulders, nodding his head towards art. “Rumours about us, mostly. Tell her, art.”
art purses his lips multiple rimes before speaking. “It’s just trash talk,” he pauses. patrick glances over to him one more time, flashing him a subtle glare before art finally continues, “there's talk about how the three of us are suspiciously close, or whatever.”
“I guess it’s not so much a rumour as it is true,” you responded. You tilted your head towards them both, eyes squinting with humour as you questioned, “you guys do consider us close, right? I mean, after all I do for you guys, I’m honestly glad that people are speculating and starting to appreciate my efforts.”
“It’s just,” Patrick turns back around, shuffling his feet to sit down across from you on the bench with legs on either side of the wooden plank. His hands are gathered in the middle, fingers attempting to itch closer and closer to your own without you seeing.
“We could be a lot closer, you know.”
You raised an eyebrow at Patrick’s sneaky hands, a slight smile still intact on your face as you asked, “How close can we get, pat? There’s a limit to everything. Even the sky.”
“he’s right.”
You almost jump at the sudden voice you hear in your ear. you cleared your throat as he slid closer towards your back. Art mirrored Patrick’s movements with legs on either side of the bench, but his hands fiddled with the edge of your hoodie as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“We could be a lot closer.”
You observed the way art pressed his lips together, snuggling his face into the side of your neck as Patrick’s thumb rubbed circles on your hand. you hadn’t even registered that patrick was now grinning, building your unsuspecting hand towards his dark curls.
You instinctively wrap your fingers around his wet hair, and you almost gasp when you hear patrick whimper. He pants heavily against your wrist, lips tickling the tender skin as he breathes, “why don’t you come over to our dorm after classes are over?”
You shake your head, dropping your hand from his head. “I don’t think-“
“Please,” art whispers against your neck.
You close your eyes, sucking on the inside of your cheek as you sighed deeply. For a beat, you simply listen to the sound of their synced breathing, taking in the familiar smell of the locker room, and the familiar smell of them. When you open your eyes again, Patrick and art are both eagerly staring at you, pleading with silence.
You suddenly laugh, smiling uncontrollably as you lean back against art and pull patrick closer by the hand that is still wrapped around yours. patrick gladly scooches closer until his nose is practically rubbing against yours, and he returns your laughter with a chuckle of his own.
“Okay,” you mutter while glancing back at art, whose mouth was agape with something adjacent to shock.
“let’s get closer.”
-
a/n: “why don’t u come over to our-“ bags r packed.
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
Text
“The demon is back.” Eddie pokes into Steve’s side to wake him up.
“Babe, please go back to sleep.” Steve shoves his face into the pillow, making his voice muffled.
“Steeeeve.” Eddie whines, “It’s really there I swear this time. And I locked the door so I know it’s the demon again. Nothing else can get inside.”
“Eddie.” Steve squishes his face even deeper into the mattress. “You do this at least once a week. I love you; I do. But I never look because there is no demon. And every morning, you wake up fine. So please, go back to sleep.”
“What if I promise never to mention it again if it’s not really there? Will you look then?” This time Eddie’s voice wavers, his actual terror showing.
Steve sighs and shifts his head to look at Eddie, “This is really freaking you out, huh?” He says it kindly. Steve can tell this is serious to Eddie. So even if he doesn’t believe it, Eddie does. And what’s important to Eddie is important to Steve.
Eddie nods back furiously.
“Okay, I’ll look.” Steve shifts his head towards the other side, where the chair by the window sits. There, sitting in that corner is a dark shadowy figure. “Oh.”
“See! I told you! Demon! Oh god, it’s gonna get us.” Eddie throws his hands up. Even though he’s terrified, he’s accepted defeat.
“No.” Steve says calmly. “It’s just El.”
Eddie pauses his rant, “What?”
“It’s just El. In the corner. She does that sometimes, watches people she cares about until she falls asleep. To make sure they’re safe.” Steve looks at Eddie.
“The door was locked! How are you so calm about one of the kids just watching us at night?”
“Honey, she has mind powers. I don’t think a flimsy lock from Home Depot is going to stop her.” Steve deadpans before shrugging, “And it’s El. She could ask me to kill a man, and I probably wouldn’t even ask questions.”
“What if she asked you to kill me?”
“I’d be conflicted.”
“I want to be mad, but honestly I think I’d hand you the knife.” Eddie sighs, looking down at Steve.
Steve scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t stab you. I’d obviously sneak some kind of poison into your honeycombs. Way less messy.”
Eddie goes back to nearly shouting, “Why have you thought about this?!”
“Honestly, I have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I just don’t speak them out loud.”
Despite the fact they are actively talking about his murder, Eddie can’t help but get all gooey with Steve in their bed. “Is this why you don’t get mad when I think aloud? Another reason why you just get me. Adding that tally to the ‘why we are great together’ column.”
“Yes, we’re pretty amazing. Can we go back to sleep now?” Steve smiles.
“Yes—wait, no.” Eddie corrects himself, getting himself back on track. He loves this man, but he is a sneaky little minx. “Why did El never say anything? I mean, this is not the first time I accused her of being a demon. Hell, we’ve been talking for literally five minutes, and she still hasn’t said anything. Also, what if she walked in on us doing, ya know, adult stuff?” Eddie blushes at the end. He’s acting like he hasn’t been whispering way worse things in Steve’s ear every night.
“First off, she won’t walk in on that. Apparently Max taught her about happy screams a long time ago.”
“Gross.”
“Yeaaa. Second, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now.”
Huh, now that Eddie thinks about it, he does hear soft little snores. Which is weird since neither he nor Steve snores, and they are both, ya know, awake.
“And I don’t think El speaking in a dark corner would have helped your fears. Like imagine just hear her soft “Hello” at 2 a.m.” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“I—okay I got nothing.”
“Fantastic can we go back to sleep now?”
Eddie gives one last shout, “You’re not going to stop her?”
“Are you going to tell her no? And make her worry?”
Eddie slinks down into the covers, “...no.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Eddie curves his body into Steve’s, seeking him out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, securing him to his chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”
Steve hums. “Anything for you baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Eddie kisses Steve lightly.
“I love you both as well.” El’s voice suddenly speaks into the silent room.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screams.
Steve can’t help the giggles that come out of him. He tries to smother them into Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie can’t find it in himself to be mad.
———
some people seemed interested in more el + Steve sibling energy. And they are a sibling-like duo I love. So here’s a little something but more steddie involved. I think all three of their relationship would be very sweet. Both Eddie and Steve would protect el. I hope you enjoyed :)
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harryshomebaby · 2 years
Text
ah to have to call in sick 3 days in a row during your second week of work because you got the flu for the first time in about a decade 🫠
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darkbluekies · 6 months
Text
Like a fly in a trap
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Rich!female!yandere x reader
Summary: you escape Hedwig, only to be brought back and learn a secret about her family that puts everything into perspective.
Warnings: alcoholic? Yandere, Stockholm syndrome, abuse(?), isolation etc
Word count: 3.5k
A cold breeze finds its way into your bones. You pull the hood closer over your head, heart hammering in your chest. The sun is barely up. You have to catch the bus before her alarm clock rings. When she notices that you’re gone, all hell will break lose. 
You can’t pinpoint the moment things changed, you just know that at some point, Hedwig wasn’t the loving, caring girlfriend you got together with, but a clingy, possessive psychopath. Of course, she never shows that side to anyone … not even you. But you’ve been listening in on the calls she makes when she thinks you’re not listening. Wanting to hire hitmen and demanding for people to get hurt, even if they’ve only done as little as speak to you. You can’t say when she became like that … scared that she’s been that through your entire relationship … only that you’ve just started to notice. 
You’re not even sure where you’re going. You can’t go home. That’s the first place Hedwig would look. You don’t have anything on you that could be traced. There’s no plan, you just have to get away from Hedwig. 
The bus stops in front of you and you get on. You walk through the empty bus, sitting down in the very back and pull the hood of your hoodie closer to you.
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Hedwig opens her eyes when the alarm sounds. She can tell right away that something is wrong. The bed is empty … and cold. Quickly, she sits up and looks around, heart stopping. Where are you? She rips the covers off of her body and runs over to the bathroom. Empty. Her pulse is hammering in her head. She can’t hear anything. Hedwig sinks down in the corridor to avoid fainting or throwing up. At this point, she’s unsure what she’s going to do. Her entire body is shutting down. It’s feels like she’s dying. 
With shaking hands she picks up her phone and call you. A signal rings through the room and she grows even colder. Your phone is on the bedside table. 
“Y/N, no … what”, she gasps in pure horror. “Y/N, don’t do this to me. Oh, God. Oh, my God.”
She presses her hands over her heart. 
“Hedwig, dearest, what is wrong?” she hears her father ask. 
She looks up and watches her father through her blurry vision. He’s standing in his pajamas, worried eyes looking down at her. 
“My dear, what happened?” her father asks again. 
“Y/N … Y/N …”, she hyperventilates.
“Has something happened to them?”
“They’re gone! I want them back! I want them back now!” She screams through her sobs. “I want them back this instant!”
“Sweetheart, sweetheart, don’t cry. Daddy will get them back to you.” He hugs her. “Daddy hates seeing his princess so upset. They will be back, I promise you, my little girl.”’
Hedwig wipes her tears and sobs. 
They go down to the kitchen where her mother has woken up, already with a glass of wine in her hand. 
“My little princess, can you please give your mother and me a smile?” her father begs her. “It will be okay, we will find Y/N again. I have called every person I know who works for the police, private detectives … everyone. I have millions of eyes open.”
Hedwig refuses. She holds her arms over her chest while sitting on a chair. Her mother is sitting beside her, sipping on her red wine while her father is walking back and forth in front of her, stressed out of his mind. When he can’t get Hedwig what she wants, he feels absolutely terrible. 
“We will find them, don’t worry”, her father says. “Daddy will do everything to make you happy.”
Hedwig avoids eye contact. If her fathers contacts can’t find you, then she’ll have to contact hers. None in the family knows about the hitmen she knows — and hires often — and neither does she want them to. Worry is eating her up from the inside. She wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms and kiss every part of your soft, wonderful skin. She wants to run her fingers through your hair and make sure that you know that you’re safe with her. She has never been this worried before. 
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“This is the last stop.”
You nod and rise from your seat. Your legs have fallen asleep since long ago and you have no idea where you are. By now, you’re hungry and tired, wishing nothing more than to sleep. Carefully, you look around. Where are you? You’re surrounded by fields, forests and small, small cabins. With a sigh, you sit down by the side of the road, to think before you start going somewhere. You should try to find a payphone, perhaps, to call your family. No, they wouldn’t be able to help you. If Hedwig wouldn’t hire someone to kill them, she would either pay them or manipulate her way to get what she wants. After all, you fell for her little girl act for so long. If only you had seen how unstable and obsessive she really was before you had tangled yourself this far deep into the relationship. By now, it is too late to cut things off. She has nestled her way into your every day life. Wherever you look, Hedwig’s there in some way, shape of form. She has infiltrated your life like a virus. 
You hide your face in your hands. Hedwig’s a fucking spider who has intangled you in her web, slowly draining you of life until she can eat you. What should you do? You can’t go home, can’t talk to anyone you know. If you call the police, she will get away with it. Her family is in the elite class, they always get away with things. 
“Hedwig …”, you whisper frustratedly into your hands. “Why have you done this? Why have you given me this much problem? Why me?”
Your stomach growls and you wrap your arms around your body tightly. You have to find food soon. And after that … shelter. 
Hours go by. You’ve curled up by a tree to get some kind of warmth, but there’s none to be found. Your body temperature is dropping every minute go by. You have nothing to keep you company, apart from the moon. And weirdly enough, it feels like it is pitying you. 
You wake up the following morning by someone trying to catch your attention. An old woman. Your vision is blurry, but you can tell that you’ve never seen her before. 
“Hello, are you okay?” she asks worriedly. “What are you doing out here? You’re freezing!”
You can barely hear what you’re saying, you can’t feel your body. 
“Do you know who you are?” the woman asks. 
You can’t move your body, can’t answer. You’re so cold. 
“Do I need to call someone?” she asks. 
No answer. She picks up her phone and calls the police, telling them that she’s found a person who’s been sleeping outside the entire night, that they’re unresponsive and ice cold. She tells the cops a description of your characteristics. You feel like shutting your eyes again, so tired. 
“No, don’t close your eyes!” she says quickly. “You can die!”
You try to force your eyes to stay open. 
The old woman can’t carry you, so she goes to get you blankets and hot tea. While she forces a warm cup in your hands, you can tell that a white car pulls up on the road in the distance. 
That’s not a cop car. 
“Y/N!” 
The familiar, female voice causes you to drop the mug. Hedwig runs all the way over to you and throws herself at your stone cold body. Her warm face hides into your neck. 
“My God, darling, you’re freezing!” she gasps and cups your icy cheeks with her hands. “My sweetheart, I’ve been so worried!”
The men behind her thank the old lady for calling the cops and you suddenly understand what’s going on. Once again, the elite has taken over the cops. One of the men are Hedwig’s father. You gulp. This is bad. 
The old woman leaves. You want to shout out that they’re not going to help you, that it was this girl’s fault that you endured a night out in the snow for, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, not in in front of Hedwig’s father. 
“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m here now”, she says and tries to warm you up with her hands. “You could have died! I’ll never let this happen again, I promise. I’ll never let you out of my sight again!” 
She removes her expensive coat and scarf and hangs them over your shoulders, wires the scarf around your neck and blows hot air on your hands. She kisses your forehead. Two of the men, you haven’t seen them before, carry your body to the car and place you in the backseat, right next to Hedwig. She tells the chauffeur to bring up the heat to max.
“I’ve been so worried for you, sweetheart”, she says and holds your icy hands between hers while continuing to blow hot air. “Why did you do that? You scared me to death, Y/N!”
“You have given us some problems, young lady/man”, her father says from the front seat. “You’ve made my daughter very upset.”
You can’t respond. There’s something about her father that terrifies you. 
“I don’t ever want to see my little princess upset”, he continues. “I will do everything to make her happy, which means that you need to stay. Do I have to take measures to make sure that you stay with my daughter?”
You gulp and shake your head. Something’s definitely wrong about him.
“I will never let you leave me again”, Hedwig whispers in your ear. “I need you. If i don’t have you … I don’t want to live. Don’t ever try this again. Please.” She seems to realize how she sounds and shakes her head. “Please don't think I want to scare you, I just … I can’t imagine my life without you. I have to keep you with me like this. I know you understand, you’re just cold and tired.”
“You don’t have to drag in your father in your dirty business, Hedwig”, you whisper. “That’s low.”
She brings your cold hands under her shirt, shivering. While you do enjoy the heat, you keep your hands in fists. 
“You’re my everything, I had to do what was necessary, I’m sorry”, Hedwig whispers and sniffles. “No one likes me the way you do. You’re the only real person in this world. Everyone else … they’re fake. You’re so special to me.”
You don’t say anything more to her during the entire car ride. When you come back to her mansion, you’re immediately tucked into bed. Hedwig closes the door to her bedroom after her, locking it.
“Here”, she says and placed a silver tray on the bed. “Soup. The chef made it for you.” She sits down and sighs sadly. “Why did you leave me, sweetheart? What have I done? PLease tell me so I’ll make sure to never do it again. I don’t want to be without you.”
“Stop pretending”, you hiss. “You know very well. Talk to me instead of acting like a defenseless school girl.”
“What?”
“I know what you’ve done. I’ve heard your phone calls at night.”
Hedwig’s face drops and grows multiple shades lighter. At first, she doesn’t say anything. Her hands tremble as she panickedly thinks. 
“O-Oh, Y/N …”, she starts with an unsteady voice. “I never- … I never-”
“Why me, Hedwig?” you ask, not being able to bring your voice above a terrified whisper.
“Because- … because I love you.” 
“You can have anyone you want, you really can … so why me?” 
It is unbelievable. You can’t understand why you are worth killing for. What does she see in you that is that special? You could never have anticipated that someone would end human lives … for you. But then again, is anyone worth killing for?
As the realization of reality sets in, along with your exhausted form, you grow tired. 
 “I’ll have to take precautions from now on”, Hedwig says. “I love you so much, I can never let this happen again.”
“What are you going to do?” you ask coldly. “Send hitmen on me? On my family?”
“No, not you — never you. But …”
“My family, right?”
Hedwig bites her lip before groaning. “I just- … I wish that you never had tried to leave! I don’t want to do these kinds of things! They make me feel so dirty! Fuck, Y/N, why can’t you just … love me again?”
You don't answer. A single tear runs down your cheek. You can't even look at her, which drives her insane. 
“Y/N, please!” she begs and reaches for your hand, but you quickly pull away. “Don't do this to me. I love you. I really, really do!”
She starts to sniffle, then sob. You're amazed that just a little touch deprivation causes her to break down completely, but she expects you to be completely normal when people are getting murdered behind your back — on your behalf?
“I want to go home.”
“I can’t let you go, Y/N. I need you here. I can’t live without you.”
“Let me go home. Now.”
“No, Y/N. You need to stay here. I will make you stay here. If you think that I'm going to let the only one that loves me leave, you're wrong.”
“I don't … love you anymore.”
It looks like someone has punched Hedwig right in her ribs.
“Yes you do”, she says quietly, wishing.
You turn your head away.
“I'll let you be”, she says and slowly stands up. “I love you, Y/N. Please don't think I don't.”
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You're forced to sleep beside her all night. You've curled up into a ball and she doesn't try to reach for you, like you had expected … but you can hear her cry. 
She leaves for school, leaving you all alone, but not before reminding you that she has people in the house that won't let you leave the premises. She tells you that you can go down to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat, but you wait in her room, as a silent protest, for as long as you can manage. When your stomach physically hurts, you sigh in defeat and walk downstairs.
Someone's sitting by the kitchen aisle. A blonde woman who twirls a wine glass slowly. Her eyes are empty, but her appearance is that of a goddess. You recognize her, first as the popular actress you used to watch, and as Hedwig's mother second. You're about to turn around and walk out when her voice stops you.
“Stay.” Her voice is low, almost strained.
You turn back and take a few, slow steps into the marble kitchen. The woman doesn't look up from her twirling, red wine.
“I heard that she found you”, she says and sighs.
You nod carefully. 
“They're very alike, you know”, she says, glancing at you, “her and her father.”
“They are?” you ask.
“Yes. Unfortunately.” She nods at the chair in front of her. “Sit down.”
Just like Hedwig’s father, her mother had something in her voice that you don't dare disobey. You sit down, still not being able to look at her.
“Do you know who I am, Y/N?” she asks, sounding like she doesn't expect much.
“I do, ma'am”, you answer. “I used to watch your movies a lot when I was younger. You were awesome.”
Hedwig’s mother smiles slightly, a genuine, warm smile.
“That makes me happy”, she says softly. “Thank you, Y/N. I was scared to have been forgotten.”
“What? No, never. You're an icon. I wish you still did movies.”
“Me too.”
“Why don't you?”
Her smile thins out. “Hedwig’s father … he's … well, let's just say he rather wants me here.” And she adds on, sour grimace on her face: “Where it is safe.”
“That sounds like what-”
“-Hedwig would say, yes. I told you … they're very alike.”
A light turns on in your head.
“Did he … did he take you, too?” you ask, carefully.
“Take and take, not exactly.” Her mother seems to think and the dull look in her eyes returns. “If only it was that quick and direct. He nestled his way into my life, infiltrating every part. First, he wanted to invite me on a date, then help with auditions, then he wanted to be my manager, then director, then boyfriend. He had control of every work related issue … always making sure I never worked intimate with any men, turning down things I really wanted to do … isolating me from my costars. When we married, he wanted me to quit all together, and wanted me to stay home with the child I was pregnant with.”
“Hedwig?”
“Yes.”
“When I was pregnant, I was wishing that she wouldn't inherit that side of her father. I hoped and prayed. But she did. I'm sorry, Y/N.”
“I'm sorry that happened to you.”
The woman gives a weak smile. “Don't be. It's happening to you now, be sorry for yourself. I'm hoping in telling you this, that you somehow can get away before it's too late.”
“Can't you … leave?”
She shakes her head. “It's too late for me.”
“No, it's not. You're still beautiful, Hollywood would love to have you back.”
“Thank you, you're very kind, Y/N. But it's not that easy. He controls more than you can ever imagine. He has made sure to be part of the industry so that I can never return.”
You gesticulate with you hands. “Then … do something else! Prove to him that he can't own you.”
“I envy your enthusiasm. But it wouldn't work, he would get into that too and sabotage for me again.”
“Why does he ruin for you? Doesn't he love you?”
“He does. He just wants me for himself.” She sighs. “I don't know how Hedwig would behave with you, if she would let you work-”
“I don't think so. She has talked about letting me stay home with her so that I could spend time on my hobbies and her taking care of our children.”
“I was afraid of that.” She stands up and downs the last of her red wine. “One thing I'm happy about, is that Hedwig has inherited her father's ability to love. They love too much, I think. And that affects the people around them. If you can't leave, Y/N, I'd advise you to play along. Life is not bad here … as long as you don't try to leave. I promise you that.”
Before she can leave the kitchen, you have to ask her one final question.
“Excuse me, ma'am”, you say and watch how she gives you a look. “Did … did he ever kill for you?”
She doesn't answer.
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When Hedwig returns that afternoon, she has a big basket in her hands, and a bouquet of roses.
“Please forgive me for everything I've done”, she whispers and places them both in front of you before sinking down on her knees. “I'm so sorry.”
The basket is filled with your favorite snacks, a few boxes of jewelry and a designer scarf.
“I did what I thought would solve the problem”, she whispers, shaking her head regretfully. “I wanted the people that hurt you yo get what they deserved. I don't have a good explanation for the people that … didn't do anything. I just couldn't bare to see you interact with someone that wasn't me.”
“You're a stupid girl, Hedwig”, you say coldly.
“Yes, yes I am”, she sniffles. “I'm an idiot. Please forgive me.”
You thought back on what her mother had said about how life wasn't bad if you actually did what Hedwig wanted. You looked at her. She really did look like an innocent school girl, sitting on her knees in her school uniform with her hands clasped together, begging for forgiveness with tears streaming down her face. You start to feel bad for her. She is an only child to a pair of parents who went through a weird, macabre relationship. Of course she would want someone to love her and stay with her forever. You have feelings for her, you can't kill them, even if you really want to. Maybe this was what her mother felt, that she really loved Hedwig’s father that much, that she couldn't leave him … and because she knew that he would never let her leave. 
If you stay, people won't get hurt. And maybe, just maybe, you can change her. 
“I … I forgive you …”
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Aemond x Baratheon daughter!reader. They are planning teh wedding and reader hears that there will be a bedding ceremony on the night of their marriage. She talks to the queen about it but she can’t do shit. She gets anxious and Aemond notices it so he ask why and she tells him that she’s uncomfortable about the bedding ceremony so Aemond personally asks Viserys to not have one
Warnings: arranged marriage, mention of bedding ceremony
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When the prince Aemond set foot in Storm's End and offered to take one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters in a marriage pact in exchange for swords and banners alongside the Greens, you didn’t know a bedding ceremony would be part of the pact. You had been flattered when the prince chose you over your sisters. The idea of being ‘sold’ to another Lord in marriage always made you uneasy, but the prince was tall, handsome, and kind to you. 
Moons later, as you were discussing the preparations of your and Aemond’s wedding, you found yourself wishing he had taken one of your four sisters.  
‘’A bedding ceremony?!’’ you repeated, feeling your stomach churn at the thought of having intercourse with spectators watching. 
You tried to not think too much about it, telling yourself that if you closed your eyes during it, it would pass fast. But come the week of the wedding, it was all you could think about. 
Shortly after your arrival in King’s Landing, you requested to speak to the Queen. Mayhaps she could do something about it?
‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I do not wish to do…that, your Grace.’’
If you had voiced your complaint to your father, you doubted he would have cared. A bedding ceremony was not embarrassing for the man. Quite the contrary, he was praised during the act. But the Queen was a woman. You hoped she would understand you, or at least have some compassion. 
The Queen sighed as she sat on the camel-back couch before you, knowing the mortifying experience that is the bedding ceremony. Especially for a woman. ‘’Unfortunately, it is a Westerosi wedding tradition. I’m afraid I cannot do anything about it, sweetie.’’ 
‘’A perverted tradition...’’ you whispered, not thinking she would hear you.
‘’I agree,’’ she said softly, her eyes filled with empathy. ‘’Unfortunately, we must submit to men's perversion.’’ Her words hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth that neither of you could escape.
A public defloration was something that — some — people enjoyed. Including your father. Lord Borros needed proof that the marriage had been consummated before sending his men to the Greens. He didn’t want to give them his men and get tricked in return. 
The evidence of the growing affection between you and Aemond wasn’t sufficient.  
Speaking of Aemond, he came knocking on your door after his afternoon duties. 
‘’Come in.’’ 
Usually, seeing him put a smile on your face, but today, you didn’t bother to open the door. You stayed sitting by the large window giving on the gardens, your eyes casted on your lap as you fidgeted with a thread from your dress. 
Stepping inside, Aemond frowned, seeing you sitting by yourself. ‘’I apologize for not coming to greet you sooner. I was held back,’’ he explained briefly, not wanting to bore you with the details of his duties.
‘’All is good, my Prince,’’ you said flatly.  
Aemond walked over to you, suspecting by your tone that something was upsetting you. He sat beside you and gently, he covered your hands with his, stopping your anxious play with the thread. ‘’What is it that is upsetting you, my love? Is it the wedding?’’ he asked, noticing the tension that seemed to wrap around you like a suffocating cloak. 
You shook your head. The wedding itself was a moment you were looking forward to — truly. It was the hours that followed that made your anxiety spike to unbearable levels. 
All these pairs of eyes on your naked body, observing — and judging. It made you sick. 
‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I…I’m already scared of the bedding itself,’’ you confess, your voice small and insecure. ‘’I do not want to make my first time a spectacle.’’ 
Aemond nodded, understanding. ‘’I’m not comfortable about this either. But it is part of my duty as husband.’’ 
‘’I spoke to your mother about it. Her Grace said there is no possibility of getting out of it…’’ A single tear slipped down your face, the sight pinching at Aemond’s heart. 
‘’Have you spoken to your father? Mayhaps he—’’ 
‘’My father requests it.’’ 
Aemond brought your hands to his lips, kissing them. ‘’I’ll speak to mine. Not to compare, but he holds more power than yours.’’
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lvndosnorris · 25 days
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I feel like Charles would be the one to have you under him on the balcony and have his phone recording you twos sounds so he can listen to them when he is away 😋🙏
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it was risky but charles' simply didn't care — a hand clamped over your mouth as he traced over the swell of your breasts with his tongue. the evening air was cool, a breeze cooling the warmth that was radiating off your skin as you breathed out, teeth grazing his palm. you were already a mess, your legs wrapped around his waist lazily as he hovered over you, finally lifting the make-shift mouth guard as he shushed at you, "bébé you don't want to get caught do you?"
a shake of your head was sufficient for him, his phone already voice recording on the outside table that sat next to the sunbed you were both sprawled on. despite your balcony overseeing the light bustle of the streets below neither of you cared enough to pull your clothes back on and finish this in bed. instead the utter thrill of being outside and having people, strangers, hear you ignited something deep inside your stomach.
his cheeks were already glistening, his head being between your thighs only minutes before he proposed the idea of recording something small for when he was away — your hands laced through his hair as you tugged at it impatiently. but of course it was a yes, your firm confirmation given as he wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, eyes heavy with nothing but lust as you whined playfully for him to finish the job properly.
your eyes were trained on his as he snaked a hand between your two bodies, pinching here and there at your stomach and your waist before wrapping firmly around the base of his cock. you had no clue where your clothes were, or his, but you couldn't care less — too busy engrossed in the way charles nudged his tip through your folds, bumping over your clit as you hissed eagerly.
it was a stretch that you hadn't ever been able to adjust to, lids heavy as you pushed your head back at the feeling of him slipping inside of you. head clouded with complete euphoria you forgot the fact that someone could have heard, charles' head buried in the crook of your neck as he bit down ever-so gently. each steady rock of his hips was followed by one of your delicate moans, the sound equally as pretty to the ones that were falling from your muffled boyfriend.
"taking me so well mon chéri, so fucking good for me—" the words of praise and encouragement went straight to your cunt, pulsating around his length as you whimpered pathetically. there was a small part of you that thought the idea of being recorded would install a sense of insincerity — but here you both were, whining messes as charles' held your hips down.
neither of you realised your orgasms were close until you were teetering on the edge of your, fingernails digging into charles' shoulders as you begged for him to let you cum, "need it charles— need you, please—"
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anantaru · 4 months
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cw. [ex]plicit, forbidden romance, passionate haithie, fem! reader
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the lingering thought of living through a forbidden romance with alhaitham.
“we shouldn't be doing this but it feels so good,” while you exchange deep breaths, eyes misted with a delirious glow.
right now, nothing seemed important enough for you to muffle your cries and heaves, as it was the only way to vocalize your feeling.
but a piercing reservation for this relationship was always there.
the irremediable sorrow of what would happen if you do get caught, if someone sees you steal a couple more kisses, brush your hands together lightly when you walk past each other. it's present, that haunted look on your face, and it was impossible to cure it as it overcame you with a shaded gloom, casted above you as it applied layer after layer of unsettling emotions.
yet your heart twists when you feel him kiss you again, again— and again, as if alhaitham silently sensed how you were giving yourself to the negatives parts of your secret relationship that actually contributed to many positive instances in your life.
"i hate it, so much," that hurt, you realized, to say it out loud and feel it hang above your head, "i hate it so much, it pains me!" to voice your emotions to him too— as if it didn't kill him as well.
but you close your eyes now, your lashes shining with a threat of tears, attempting to ignore the wounds inside of you and go back to focus on what was right now, towering before you. it being alhaitham, the man you loved, so fucking much, pleasing you to his heart’s content.
the scribe traces your muscles with his fingertips before pulling himself in you again, his lips parted and glistening on top of yours. everything considered, there was a strange, almost insatiable sort of pleasure bundling inwardly, he simply never looked at you like this before.
"oh? you're still concerned someone might hear us?"
"no, I'm not," you avert your gaze in denial, but the bitterness on your facial features told the entire story to his sharp pair of eyes. you suddenly close your arms around his neck so you could kiss— and better, shut him up, so that alhaitham would also forget about your panicked outburst and resort back to filling you with pleasure.
"good, me neither, i couldn't give a damn anymore."
"what—" this was probably one of the most miserable dirty talk sessions in history of such— if you can even call that awkward conversation that.
alhaitham silently hooks his fingers under your hips before pulling you off and on him, repeatedly, but this time faster as your lower body automatically arched upwards so he could move you on and off his cock in the most pleasurable, precise way. to have your sweet cunt split by his girth—it's maddening and you feel him throb inside of you as he drags himself against your warm walls, luxuriating in the softness of your pussy.
alhaitham slumps into your body, "i-don't-care-anymore-" and at each full throated groan, he spills a new word to complete his sentence.
now, everything had gotten more hot— scorchingly hot but cold too, precisely all at once and at the same time, your creamy walls being rubbed with passionate rolls of his cock as his pelvis hits yours.
everything between your thighs retorted to feeling swollen and well used, your hips sore enough to give up but you did not want to, not now, not ever, not when there was nothing that made you feel as good and free as this.
yes, alhaitham made you feel free, like you could achieve anything in life and have him by your side at the same time.
in the course of this, you close your eyes before begging him to kiss you again, uncontrollably make out with you until your lips would strain and hurt. and alhaitham notices, pushes deeper in, so deep that his shaft had been entirely webbed in your liquids and made them ooze out whenever he pulled his cock out.
he does it with such ease, like he's meant to do this, "i don't care whether people will spread rumors," and presses his lips on top of yours, muffling.
"because there's only one person i care about."
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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ktgoodmorning · 1 month
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Superstar
Alexia Putellas x reader
Inspired by the song superstar by MARINA. Alexia misses you after a rough away game when you aren't there to comfort her.
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Masterlist
Before I met you, I pushed them all away Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay What I like about you is you know who you are What you like about me is I know what I'm not
You had never really cared much about dating before. It’s not that you were opposed to having a partner that you could share your life with, it just always seemed like more of an inconvenience for you. The idea of someone trying to constantly tag along with you and share everything made you cringe, causing you to never intentionally pursue a romantic relationship. 
Those that knew you liked to say it was because you had been raised “fiercely independent”, while your closest friends liked to say you were just scared and avoiding being hurt. In reality, it was likely a combination of both, and no matter what the reason was, you didn't really care. At times when someone came along, you would push them away before it could get too serious, usually after becoming annoyed with some minute little habit they had. So you never really imagined getting into a serious relationship before. 
Not before Alexia. 
Alexia changed everything for you. The way that she didn’t try to cling onto you so hard is exactly what drew you together. Both of you had similar feelings when it came to dating and it worked perfectly. You gave each other the space you needed while still fitting your lives together in the ways you wanted to. 
When you first started seeing each other, your friends had given you a lecture that you shouldn’t push her away, unknowing it was something that Alexia had been told by her own friends as well. The moment you shared your first kiss, you both knew that this relationship was something you’d be willing to fight for. As much as it scared you to commit to another person, it was even scarier to imagine a life without her.
.
It was after your second date that you received a text from her, shortly after dropping you off at home: “I should have kissed you.” It made you smile knowing that she was thinking the same thing you were. You both wanted it and yet you both chickened out, something that was extremely rare for either of you. 
She was all you could think about until your next date which came only a few days later, moving quicker than you were normally willing to. You had gotten lunch together before going on a walk along the beach, eventually sitting next to each other in the sand to look out at the ocean and get to know each other further. Alexia was known to be quieter around people she didn’t know well, especially when they weren’t footballers. In a way, she was so consumed with the sport that she felt like she didn't know how to talk to people who didn’t feel the same, but here she was, opening up to you more than ever before. Something about your conversation made it feel so easy and effortless in a way neither of you were used to. 
You sat talking for hours, migrating closer together as you did so. Eventually you leaned into her slightly, still too scared to make eye contact, just giggling and talking while you watched the waves crash against the shore. Some of your conversation was more serious, talking about your upbringings, but just as easily, the two of you would turn to quickly joking around and poking fun at each other. It was the perfect mix of deeper conversations while still having fun. 
 When the conversation came to a lul, you could feel her eyes on you, making you turn to finally meet them. Nerves were radiating from her, almost making you feel them yourself. She was terrified of messing it up with you and you were equally as terrified, both sharing glances down at each other’s lips but too scared to actually move any further. 
“Can I kiss you?” she breathed out, hardly audible, her eyes glued to your lips. 
“Please.” That was all she needed to hear, immediately using one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into her.
The kiss was perfect, somehow much better than any you’d had before, even though you knew it was just because of the girl in front of you and the way she had you feeling better than you ever had. It was the perfect mix of gentle yet still confident, moving slowly and with purpose against you. Alexia’s nerves seemingly disappeared the second that she finally made the move. 
And that was the moment both of you felt something change. Something about what you had together was different, the idea of pushing her away, unfathomable. Suddenly, you could understand all the people that got clingy with their significant other. The idea of sharing your life didn’t feel so bad, as long as it was with Alexia.
And I, I know that you never sleep Oh, so impossible to dream When you're far away from me Oh, I, I'm all you could ever need Oh, so impossible to breathe
From that moment on, your lives had quickly become intertwined, still independent in yourselves but able to let your guard down when you came home to her. It was a constant that brought both of you great comfort, knowing you’d always have the other to love and back you up no matter what. 
It was exactly this that Alexia came to rely on. Anytime she had a bad game, all she needed was to come home to you and settle into your arms. She rarely slept after games in general and that wasn’t something that changed easily, but at the very least, you were able to help her relax and get some much-needed rest.
 She was grateful that you never lectured her about her lack of sleep or somewhat insane mindset when it came to football. Most people in her life were quick to scold her about working herself too hard but you were just there to open your arms as soon as she realized she needed it. It’s not that you liked it, you knew it wasn’t good for her, but you understood it. You were often considered a workaholic yourself, something that made the two of you work well together. So when she was finally willing to admit she needed a break, you would always be there to take one with her.
Neither of you realized how much you’d come to rely on each other until you were forced to be apart. You both liked to pretend that you were okay on your own if you needed to be, but when times got tough, it became much more difficult. 
It was after an away game, one that you weren’t able to attend due to your job. The game hadn’t gone well, especially by your girlfriend’s standards. It had resulted in a draw for Barcelona that Alexia placed entirely on her shoulders. She had missed more shots than she should have, made too many mistakes, and should have been able to pull out the win. Of course nobody else had thought any of those things, but Alexia fully believed it. 
She was lucky enough to have gotten a single room, a perk of being captain she supposed, which was good considering how restless she was following the game. The more she tossed and turned, the more frustrated she got. It was normal for her to be worked up after a game so it shouldn't have been surprising that that was the case now, especially after such a rough game. 
All Alexia could think about was you and being in your arms, at home and safe, smelling your mix of perfume and body wash radiating off of you. It had only been a few days since she had seen you but the thought was all-consuming. She wanted nothing more than to lay with you, listening to you ramble quietly as you fell asleep, hardly making sense. 
The more she thought about it, the more she missed you. The frustration had grown to a level that almost brought tears to her eyes. She kicked off the blankets, flipped her pillow, and tossed around, unable to find any resolution. After trying all her usual things to help rid her of her post-game adrenaline, she knew exactly what she needed to do, no matter how much she tried to avoid it. Before either of you would be gone, you would always say, “call me if you need anything, or even if you don’t!” It always made Alexia roll her eyes, never actually doing it unless just out of boredom
Nothing terrified either of you more than the idea of “needing anything.” Your girlfriend wasn’t one to rely on someone else and the thought of it made her heart race. What if her call woke you up? Your sleep schedule was messed up enough she knew you’d likely be awake but she wasn’t sure she should risk it. She didn’t want to bother you. What if her neediness scared you away? 
At this point, her internal conflict and massive frustration had tears running down her face, something that only freaked her out further. Alexia rarely cried and yet here she was, alone in her hotel room, sobbing like a baby while she stared at your contact page pulled up on her phone. She spent a while with her thumb hovering over the call button before finally giving in and pressing it, filled with embarrassment over needing your comfort. 
I love the way we worked so hard Yeah, we've come so far Baby, look at me, you're my superstar When I'm afraid, when the world's gone dark Come and save my day, you're my superstar
The second you picked up and she heard your voice, she immediately relaxed.
“Ale? Are you okay?” Your voice was somewhat rough; she hadn’t woken you up although you hadn’t been far from sleep when your phone lit up with her face.
“Sí, estoy bien, sólo te extrañé.” you could hear the exhaustion in her voice and knew she was lying just because of the time she was calling you. If you really wanted to see how she was doing, you’d need to see her face as it was usually easy for you to read, especially when you knew she wouldn’t be willing to admit whatever was wrong.
“Why don’t you FaceTime me? I want to see you.” you pressed the button before she had time to object. Even though it was dark, you could tell she was struggling just from the blank look on her face. “Ale, what’s wrong?”
Your girlfriend went silent, refusing to make eye contact. 
“Talk to me, amor. You can tell me anything, remember? I won’t judge you, I just want to help you.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t mean to wake you up, it’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t even wake me up, I promise. I just want to know what’s going on with you.” When you were met with more silence, you took it upon yourself to try to fill in the gaps, knowing that if you were wrong about something she’d jump in to correct you.
 “Are you beating yourself up over the draw tonight?” Her lack of response gave you all the information you needed to know you were right, letting out a sigh over how critical she was of herself. 
“Ale, do you realize how good you are? You are so talented, more than anyone I know, but even you can’t expect to single-handedly win a game. Nobody was playing their best today, and you know that. If you had won, you would never say that you were the sole reason you won. So you can’t say you’re the sole reason you lost.” 
She gave you a small shrug, “I don’t know. I just feel like I could’ve done better.”
“Alexia Putellas, look at me. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me, okay? Do you realize that you’re a good football player?”
You were met with more silence, her eyes darting away from yours once again.
“Alexia, you’re the same person who won all those awards. Just because it was before your ACL doesn’t mean it wasn't you. You’re still that same person, that same amazing, incredible, record-breaking footballer. And besides that, every one of your teammates looks up to you. I look up to you.” This got her attention. As soon as you said it, her eyes met yours. 
“Why would you look up to me, amor? You work so hard and are accomplishing so much and-.”
“Ale, do you hear yourself? That’s literally what you’re doing. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. The way everyone does, really.” Her eyebrows were scrunched together, almost confused by your words, forcing you to continue. “Like I said, you’re so insanely talented, Alexia. But that’s not even the reason everyone loves you, at least not the reason I do. I love the way you dedicate yourself to the things you love, the people you love. If you missed every shot you ever took, I’d still love you just as much, so would your family, so would everyone. It’s about so much more than just how you play. It’s about how you cheer me up when I’m pissed off about work stuff and the way you are constantly making me feel better about myself than I ever could on my own. You are a superstar in every way, and only a tiny part of that has anything to do with how you play.”
You never judge me for any of my fears Never turn your back, always keep my body near All of the days that we spend apart My love is a planet revolving your heart
When you looked up from your speech, you could see tear tracks running down her cheeks, trying her best to hold it together. “Ale, amor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you I-”
“No, no, it’s okay.” she shook her head quickly, wiping her tears away. “I’m not upset, I promise. I don’t know what I’m feeling, if I’m being honest, but I’m not upset.” 
“See if you can tell me about it, even if it doesn’t all make sense, that’s okay. Just try.” 
You watched her take a deep breath in hopes of getting her thoughts together before speaking again. “I’m so tired. I know that. And I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to think about right now. But these are happy tears I think. I just can’t believe how good you are to me and how lucky I am. All the things you said to me, just made me so grateful for you. And I normally don’t talk about stuff like this, you know that. But the way you always know what to say and don’t make me feel crazy. I just- I don’t even know. I think what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for sticking with me, even when I’m losing it.”
We'll stick together Make it through the storm You and I Whoever said we couldn't have it all?
Alexia finally gave you a soft smile as she caught her breath, much calmer now that she had gotten all her thoughts off her chest. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Ale, and you’re not losing it. I’ve missed you too and as much as that’s weird for us, I think that’s how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work.” you both chuckled lightly, knowing how new you both were to the feelings you shared. “But everything I said is true, I really mean it.”
“I appreciate it, amor. There’s no one else I’d rather navigate this stuff with. I feel like when I talk to you, you make it all make sense. Like we can figure out anything.”
“Well I don’t know about anything, but we can sure try. Although I think you sound like you’re falling asleep so maybe we’ll save the figuring out everything for tomorrow, okay?” 
Alexia gave you a nod while doing her best to conceal a yawn, much more tired than she realized now that she had calmed down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight mi amor. I love you.”
“I love you, Alexia. Call me if you need anything else, or even if you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at the sentiment, just as she always did, but smiled at herself as she hung up, grateful that she had called, whether she was willing to admit she needed something or not.
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