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#i know tan would agree
13atoms · 1 month
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Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)
Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean
Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.
Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)
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The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.
You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.
It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.
Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.
Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.
“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”
You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.
“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”
“Exactly.”
“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”
Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.
“Not necessarily.”
“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”
His eyes snapped from you to his phone.
“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”
You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.
“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.
There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.
“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.
It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.
Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.
“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”
The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.
It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.
When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.
Spencer.
He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.
“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”
“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”
You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.
“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”
He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.
Oh, Spencer.
“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.
“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”
“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.
 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.
“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.
You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.
“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.
You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.
“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.
A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.
“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”
“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”
“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”
There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.
A rare breed.
You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.
You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.
 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.
You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.
“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”
The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.
When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.
“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.
“I think so.”
You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.
“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”
Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.
“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”
“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.
Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.
“I mean, look at it!”
You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.
Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.
“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.
“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.
“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”
Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.
“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”
“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”
He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.
“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”
Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.
“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”
He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.
“Are you okay?” you asked finally.
“I’m okay.”
You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.
 “Spencer…”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.
“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”
He didn’t say anything.
“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”
“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”
Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.
“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.
Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.
“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”
“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”
“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”
The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.
“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”
 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”
“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”
“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”
You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?
“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.
You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.
“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”
“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”
You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”
“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.
You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.
“I’ve got no idea.”
Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.
“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”
You frowned.
“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”
“Handsome?”
In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.
“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”
You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.
“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”
Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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thinking abt peacekeeper!snow needing asking you to sit on his face bc he heard abt it in the barracks but he never heard abt it in the capitol and now he cant stop thinking abt it and then he gets real messy and desperate w it🫠
he fiddles with his thumbs before asking you. his head ducked, a shyness he hasn't felt in a while clouding over his being. he picks at his hangnails, and instead picks at the loose threads of his uniform whenever you slap his hands away from their assault.
"your hands are pretty as they are, don't mess with them," you chastise easily, a teasing smirk woven in your words as you turn your head away from him. with your back facing him, you don't see him take a step towards you.
you jump when his hands press against your waist, then you melt back against his chest when he implants a kiss to your head. coriolanus opens his mouth to ask you, then he closes it and doubts himself, and then he remembers the stories from the other peacekeepers in the barracks.
the way they described it all. the girl above them using their mouth like that, in a way they didn't even know they would like. how she writhed and cried out as she ground her hips along their faces. usually, such crass talk would make coriolanus uncomfortable. but then, with the picture of you in mind, he couldn't stop listening. he filled in the images of you with their words, grateful that the other men would begin their recounts of their lewd endeavors when coriolanus was already tucked in bed with a blanket covering his crotch.
just the thought of bringing his imagination to reality makes him voice the idea to you. and it should be embarrassing how delighted he gets when you agree.
and it's better than coriolanus could imagine. never would he think he would enjoy intimate activities to be so messy, but he figures that he simply enjoys stripping away your own pristine and civilized nature and instead turning you into this: a pretty thing sat above him, cunt flushed against his mouth as you work yourself back and forth. your hands flail around helplessly with nothing to grab onto, coriolanus' curly locks that you hadn't even known to ever exist gone. instead, you dig your nails into his shoulders, the newly toned and newly tanned expanses of them providing enough stability for you to ground yourself. for your previously guttural groans of frustration to melt into pretty moans of pleasure.
your clit brushes against his nose with your movements and eventually, coriolanus realizes what the slight probe does for you. he grips your ass cheeks with his nails, both hands cupping as much of the flesh between his palms as he can, and he takes over. he brings you as tight against his mouth as he can, and works his tongue as well as he can against you. he moves his head, too, just enough to provide the friction from the pointy tip of his nose against the searching sensitive bud. all the while, his bright blue eyes never part from your frame. he refuses to look away for even a second. he refuses to blink, and when you look down, he has tears of desperation leaking down his face, only adding to the mess.
he wants to speak to you, to encourage you and praise you like you deserve. but his mouth is occupied, and he likes it like this, with you spewing out disjointed words that often don't make any sense.
"coryo, it's s'good. i – ah – you're so good at this, coryo. 'm so close. please, make me cum, coryo. i'll do whatever you want me to, just please don't stop."
and when you do cum around his tongue, wet and messy and oh so sweet, coriolanus commits the entire ordeal to memory, storing it somewhere deep where he'll never share the details with anyone else.
you're his to keep. only his.
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daycourtofficial · 2 days
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Now I’m in exile seeing you out
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: none
Summary: a follow up to you’re losing me - You've reached your tipping point where you can't forgive Azriel's constant choice of work over you. Can he fix things? Or did things get wildly out of hand and it's too late?
Author’s note: you guys loved part one, hopefully this offers a satisfying conclusion 🥰
2k celebration masterlist
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Your new apartment was quiet, not even your neighbors were making noise. You had grown accustomed to the silence the past few months - Azriel always being gone had left the house a certain way - too large, too quiet, too much without him. This silence felt different.
It wasn’t full of expectation - of wanting Azriel to come through the door or expecting him to treat you like he did in the before.
Now you’re in the after, your finger feeling light from the lack of the ring on it. Fae don’t usually wear rings - a human custom that Feyre had told you all about, one that Azriel found quite romantic.
“So that way when we are buried and our scents are gone, if anyone found our bodies, they would know what we were.”
His words were romantic, but now the tan line on your finger just made you feel hollow, as if this wasn’t supposed to be happening.
Any sound you made just echoed through the too empty space - you had foolishly gotten rid of most of your previous furniture when you and Azriel bought a house - your new furniture not arriving for a few more days. Feyre had found you this apartment rather quickly when you showed up at the River House in the middle of the night, uncertain of where else to go. She and Rhysand had agreed to let you stay there until you found a place of your own and they also agreed to not tell Azriel where you were.
“We could start fresh,” you had said to him, mainly wanting a good enough reason to throw out the couch you’ve had for half a century. But now all the new furniture was left behind, in a house too big for one occupant, probably laughing at your past words.
A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look through the peephole to find Feyre standing outside with a large plant of some sort. You unlock the door, letting her in. She gives you a soft smile and hugs you, the absurdly large plant making it somewhat difficult to get your arms around her.
She chirps a greeting to you, rubbing your back gently as you pull back from her. She knew why you had done it - you spent several nights over the past year on her couch crying to her over Azriel and his lack of time for you.
Behind her came Rhys, carrying several buckets of paint, rollers, tins, tarps. Your eyebrows raised, “is this your new art studio, Feyre? Are you going to teach Rhys how to paint?”
She giggles and Rhys rolls his eyes at you, setting the things in his arms down before kissing you on the top of your head. You lean into his touch before he pulls away, softly telling you, “we’re helping you paint the place - white walls are boring.”
In the days to come over the next week, you had multiple visitors. They all made you feel better while they were here, but whenever they left you felt that Azriel shaped hole in your heart all over again. Cassian had been the first after Feyre to visit, barreling into your apartment, nearly squeezing the life out of you once he got in the door, upset he had to wait so long to see you.
“Cass, it’s been four days.”
“The house’s not the same without you.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Cassian gave you a look that you didn’t like, and the two of you were teetering on the edge of the forbidden. You had asked Feyre to tell everyone they can come visit, but not to talk about Azriel in any way.
Unfortunately, much of Cassian’s life involves Azriel so he had a much harder time than everyone else. Any time he’d veer into Azriel territory, he’d quickly go, “oops” and cover his mouth very quickly, as if he had cursed in front of a child.
Elain had visited the next day, offering to help you prepare some potted window plants. The two of you walked through the Velaris markets, Elain prattling on about different kinds of plants. You knew she was trying to distract you, help you pick up the pieces of your broken life. So you picked out different plants for your windowsill, the weight of them in your arms much lighter than the weight of your emotions.
It was hard wandering the streets with Elain - this city felt so much like him, the streets littered with cafes the two of you frequented. Elain, whose presence you enjoyed greatly, felt like a stabbing reminder of what you lost.
You know Elain came in with you when you got back to your apartment, repotting the plants into the window planter she brought. Fresh dirt covered their roots, allowing them to grow in their new place. You can’t remember what Elain spoke about, just nodding along with her until you eventually found yourself alone again.
Each day brought a new member of Azriel’s family to visit, and you loved them, truly loved them, but it was hard to feel like they were coming for you as opposed to coming on behalf of him. You knew they loved you, despite whatever was happening between you and Azriel, but your interactions were always colored with him in the background.
You had been expecting Nesta to show up when you opened the door to find Azriel looking back at you.
You were a bit surprised at the restraint he maintained waiting so long, a whole week passing since you had left, but you said all you wanted to say in that note. You wanted him to feel awful, to finally see how you were feeling.
You just hated that it came to this to get him to see you.
He looked terrible. His shadows were pooled at his feet, darting towards you with affection, dancing around you. His wings were practically dragging on the floor, his shoulders sagged, his hair was a mess. His eyes looked lifeless, his jaw covered in stubble.
Good.
“Azriel,” you bit out, not an ounce of affection in your tone. “May I help you?”
“I want you to come home.” His words were clipped, agitation clear in his voice.
“This is my home, you may come in for a few minutes if you want to talk.”
You didn’t really want to invite him in, wanting him to stand outside your door, feeling as unwanted as you had for so many months. But you had new neighbors, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how nosy they were with this conversation.
The sight of him made you so angry, but a tiny part of you wanted to reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair, and coax him to come to bed so the two of you could actually sleep.
He shut the door behind him before turning back to you.
“Please, come back. I’ll be better.”
Your hands nestle onto your hips, your jaw rotating in annoyance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He sighs, his feet moving of their own accord across your floor, pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor.
“Was I not enough for you?”
His words send you into a tailspin of rage, your vision going red. “Azriel,” you say, voice rising, “that’s a funny thing to ask, when you were never there! I gave you everything. Endless excuses, endless empathy. I spent so much time telling people that what you were doing was okay, that I forgot it wasn’t! You weren’t there!”
His hands run down his face, shaking his head in denial. His shadows swirled the room, and you could hear them whispering to him, but what they were saying you couldn’t make out.
“You’re the one who decided that everything I had wasn’t enough for you.”
Your words hit their mark, and the Illyrian before you halts and removes his hands from his face, looking nothing like the formidable soldier he was, but rather the boy he had been. You take a deep breath, opening your door once more behind him.
“I needed you to risk something, I needed you to choose me.”
You stop forward, pushing him through the threshold.
“Most of all, I needed you to choose yourself, too.”
You shut the door on him, leaning your forehead against the wood. The place was suffocating you with its silence. It was a new silence, compared to the one you’d wait in while Azriel was off.
This one felt full of hope and possibilities.
-
Three decades passed since that fateful night, but you could still see Azriel’s eyes in the shadows some nights. You hated burning candles - the way the shadows flickered and danced reminded you of the shadows that curled your fingers, the ones that kept you company whenever Azriel spent too long away.
You had dated here and there since Azriel - none of them lasting more than a few years. They were fine - all attractive, all nice, but they all ended for one reason or another. One moved to a different court, which you didn’t want to do. Another’s mother didn’t like you and it just didn’t work out after that. Several relationships fizzled out because there just wasn’t a spark between you two. You felt cursed, unlucky in love, destined to be alone.
Or perhaps destined to always be heartbroken.
It wasn’t all bad - you just weren’t lucky with romance. You had fallen back in love with Velaris a few years after leaving Azriel, the city lights coaxing you back. You had actually considered leaving entirely, the city feeling too much of him.
Until one day, about five years after you left, you had walked the Sidra one night, the reflections of the street lights giving the city and the river a new glow.
It enchanted you, waking you up from the stupor you had been in for so long.
After that, you spent a lot of your time around Velaris - running events for the city, making friends with several of the business owners. It felt good to find a new support system in the city - one not connected to your ex boyfriend.
You clutch your coat tighter around yourself as you weave through the streets of Velaris, heading back to your apartment. You walk by some apartments, a few men standing around outside, their boisterous laughs making you feel uneasy. One of them starts calling for you, but you ignore his words and walk faster.
You heard footsteps behind you, and you turned a corner hoping he’d stop following you.
“Leave her alone.”
You knew that voice - the deep timbre one you heard in occasional dreams, calling to you even after all these years. You stop your fast walking, turning just in time to make eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can’t run - he’s already stopped still at the sight of you, as if time was stopping for this unexpected reunion.
He stands behind the guy who was following you, his face peering over the male’s shoulder at you.
“She your bitch?”
Azriel’s growl shocks you, and the male turns, allowing his siphons to glow bright in the night. The male stops his chuckling, replaced with deep apologies, running off in the other direction as Azriel moves closer to you, and the two of you start walking in the direction towards your apartment.
The streets are quiet as Azriel follows your lead, his boots scuffing the cobblestone street. It felt strange to be next to him again, the wind rippling against the skin of his wings a sound you never thought you’d hear again.
He clears his throat, “sorry about them.” He gestures behind himself before adding, “I saw them yelling at some female and just wanted to keep anything from happening.”
You look up at him, drinking in his appearance. Thirty years had passed since he came to your apartment that day - since you yelled and screamed at him. You had wanted to yell more that day, but you were so drained from how things ended, you just wanted to move on. He looked much the same - his jawline sharp, his large nose littered with the freckles you loved so much. They were more prominent now, likely a result of the summer sun. His hair was a little lighter, cut a little shorter than you remembered it, the curls lightly dusting the top of his forehead.
You had hardly spoken to much of his family recently, your new job and not living in one of their properties making it quite difficult to schedule dinners and lunches. The last time you saw any of them was either when Elain visited you about six years ago or when you saw Cassian in a coffee shop, a tiny babe in his arms some odd years ago.
You had caught glimpses of the inner circle over the years - a wave to Feyre across a restaurant, the sight of Rhys’s smirk through a window, the bookshop clerk down the street mentioning Nesta. Glimpses of their lives, but you never allowed yourself to stop for too long to get caught back into their orbit.
You had once been so integrated into the family, but it was hard to continue when you pulled away from Azriel. They loved you, you knew that, but they were his family and it never felt quite right without him, every one of your conversations with them overshadowed by the lack of Azriel. So, you had pulled back. It’s not what they wanted, it’s not what you wanted, but it was what you needed.
So many things were the same, but he somehow looked lighter, as if the weight of the world weren’t on his shoulders anymore. It made him look so free and so beautiful.
Maybe he found someone who could finally help against his demons.
“It’s quite alright - I actually should thank you for that and for walking me home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking home alone after that.”
You two continue on in silence, the only sound your shoes against the cobblestones and the fae moving about on the streets, heading off for their nights to start as yours ended on this strange note. The silence was lingering for too long, old emotions stirring beneath the surface. You had to break the tension.
“Is Cassian a dad now?”
Azriel’s eyes widened before throwing his head back laughing. You had almost forgotten just how beautiful that sound was. Almost. “Fuck no.”
His chuckles bounce off the streets of Velaris as he mutters, “but he and Nesta still fuck like they’re desperate for one.”
“But I swear I saw him out with a kid with wings a few years ago.”
Azriel stops to think for a moment before squinting his eyes a bit, “do you remember the issues we had with wing clipping?” You nod, remembering how just the details of some of the things Azriel’s seen at the hands of his people made you queasy. “We helped a few of the women escape the camps - we’ve been trying to make safe spaces for them to live in to prove to the males that they don’t need them. It’s slow, but we’ve got a few dozen living in and around Velaris.”
Wow, you thought. Your smile is genuine as you congratulate him, “that’s impressive, Az!” He shakes his head at your celebratory tone. “Really, I know progress is slow with them, but that’s great.” You beam up at him before scratching the back of your head, “but it still doesn’t explain the kid I saw.”
“A few of the females brought their kids with them, and Cassian likes to spend time with each of them one-on-one. He says it’s a good excuse to get ice cream, but I think he just likes seeing them have a present male in their lives.”
You two continue winding through the streets, a cool breeze lifting through your hair. It was so odd to be here with him, odder still for this to feel normal. Azriel clears his throat, his voice a bit uncertain, “I’ve been uh delegating more.”
You pause, feet stopping on the road. They’re just words, nothing more, but Azriel’s never delegated. A true perfectionist to his core, he never even considered delegating any task Rhys asks of him. You turn to look at him, his hazel eyes looking back to you full of regret and longing.
“I’ve been uh, using some of the spies under me more. I’ve been trusting them with more important work.”
The two of you reached your apartment door, the same one Feyre had painted silver all those years ago. You can hear his shaky breath as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t-“ he sighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I do deserve love.”
His voice breaks at that and some piece of you shatters all over again at how poorly he was treated to never feel like he deserved anything good or kind.
“This is coming out all wrong,” he huffs, tugging lightly at some of his hair, “but Madja’s been helping me for a long time. I- it’s so hard to let me be deserving of love. I always felt I had to earn it. I felt I had to do the impossible things asked of me and that would finally make me worthy.”
He sighs, a slight thump from the door as he leans his forehead against it.
“I am worthy of being loved. And so are you.”
His hands are shaking, but his shadows wrapped around them, forming something similar to tight fitting gloves, offering some kind of security to him to continue.
“If the damage is too much, I understand. You can tell me to fuck off at any point. But if… if you would let me, I’d like to.. I’d like to show you that I’m trying. That I’ve been working on myself.”
You continue to look up at him, gobsmacked at this confessional from him.
“It’s hard. I couldn’t make progress overnight, hence my long absence. But I have made progress. I’ve uh actually been taking days off. I started going on trips to Day and Summer a few years back. I read three books at the beach a few months ago, actually.”
He laughs at the absurdity of his trip - a vacation. Something he’s never done. To spend days on his own, nothing but a book to keep him company is all you’ve ever wanted from him.
A pause. A breath. But he keeps going, needing to get his jumbled thoughts out of his head and into yours.
“It’s been a long time, but I think about you every day. I’ve probably made a fool of myself out here, but if there is any way you aren’t seeing anyone and if any part of you misses me at all…” He trails off, his fist lightly hitting the door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m bettering myself. I am better. I know it’s late, but..”
He trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Your silence was eerie, leading him to keep talking, his words unable to stop.
“I just- I never wanted things to get here. I was foolish, and I didn’t appreciate you. It took you leaving to realize I could not continue like I was… I can’t.. Let myself hurt the people I care about anymore.”
You stay rooted, pressed against the door, not moving.
They were just words, the same things that hurt you over the years of broken promises and missed dates. But they’re so thought out. He’s had thirty years to mull things over, and he feels so much lighter than before.
You’re conflicted, but the optimist in you wins out as your voice finally finds you.
“Show me.”
-
Every Sunday for several weeks at 8 AM Azriel would stand on your doorstep and knock gently. You would open the door and he would present you with a bouquet of flowers - varieties of colors and species made their home on your dining room table as the weeks go by.
The two of you stroll through the city. The city you loved so dearly and for so long, parts of it feeling impossible to look at without thinking of the male next to you.
He would usually open up with some story about Cassian or Rhysand to break the ice. Then he’d tell you about his week - where Rhysand had sent him off, what he did on his days off that weren’t Sunday, anything that stood out. The two of you wander the streets, only stopping for occasional treats to eat while continuing your walk.
As the weeks go by, he starts filling you in on the past thirty years. For a long time, he saw Madja almost daily. She began providing him with herbs that helped regulate his moods, helped him sleep better, and helped him feel better. She also began having him comb through the deepest parts of himself he tried to forget, the memories of that little boy abandoned in that dungeon. He’d also tell you about how the rest of the Inner Circle was doing - Feyre and Rhys were trying for a baby, Elain was traveling a lot, Nesta and Cassian were… Nesta and Cassian.
Now he only sees Madja every other week, and she seems quite impressed by his progress. She should be, you think, he’s a far cry from the male you kicked out of your apartment all those decades ago.
After a few weeks, you began opening up to him as well. How hard it was to leave, your relationships in your time apart, how empty everything had felt without him, how you’d developed some strong friendships in the years apart.
“I had to pick up the pieces of myself too, Az.”
His heart pangs with guilt, but you reach out for his elbow, eyes bright with beginnings.
“I always wondered what I’d do if you came back to me, but I never thought you’d be how you are now. You seem so… light?” Your voice comes out more like a question, and you chuckle. “You just seem so different, but in a good way.”
“I feel different. I feel like I’m not… like I’m not that little boy anymore. Like I don’t have to prove myself to be loved. If not by you, by someone.”
His words linger in the air and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at his words.
“I do want it to be you, though. If you’d have me, that is.”
Your heart wanted you to lean forward, wanted nothing more than for you to wrap yourself in his embrace. But before either of you could move forward, you had to know, one way or another.
“Why did you keep pushing the wedding back?”
Your voice was soft and shaky, but the question had been lingering on your mind for so long, it was on the tip of your tongue every time the two of you met up.
“I couldn’t tell you before because you would have been so nice about it, but I- I thought I was ruining you. I didn’t want you, so kind, so wonderful, to be tethered to me for all eternity. But I was too selfish to let you go. I still am, I suppose.”
He shrugs, his shoulders folding inward toward you, his wings drooping a bit. “I know now how ridiculous that sounds, but I.. wanted you but I also wanted better for you.”
He turned toward you, his skin shining like gold in the sun. He was radiant - a word hardly ever used for him before. He looked as Helion does, as if the sun was redirecting its rays through him.
“So I became better for you, for myself, for my family.”
And that was what you needed to hear. It was never about you (in many ways it was), but at the end of the day, you always wanted what was best for the both of you.
And he became that.
On a beautiful summer day, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands reaching upwards to pull his face into yours.
And by gods even his kisses felt lighter.
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Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen
Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin
People who asked for a part two: @piceous21 @itsswritten @leeknows-wife @12344321heyyy @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @naturakaashi @janebirkln @slut4acotar @kaitttttttt @queerqueenlynn @anuttellaa @dee-writes-smut @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @michealharrypotter @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl @crazylokonugget @yearninglustfully
Thanks for reading 💕
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kyluff · 1 month
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— ↺ Bewbs
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✎ luffy + zoro + sanji x reader !
✦ summary ➠ boob blurbs
✦ warnings ➠ nsfw, boob stuff
✦ note ➠ i 🫶 luffy
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✪ Monkey D. Luffy
“Luffy, don’t you think that’s enough already?” You whine out, back arching and fingers clawing at his black hair. You don’t know how much more you could take of this, Luffy has been at for what felt like hours. He’s been licking, sucking and even nibbling at your swollen nipples.
“Mm mm!” He let out a hum in response, a sound of disagreement at your question. You don’t know what has gotten into him, he didn’t even say anything when he got home from his adventure on the new island you arrived at, just shoved his head under your shirt and forced it off soon after.
He’s been going at them ever since.
He let go of the first nipple, leaving a stringy connection of saliva from your flesh to his lips, then attacked your neglected one. You glanced down at him, mouth slightly open from the pants slipping past, you could see his eyes softly shut.
He looked totally content with the situation, his hold around your body tightened. He wished to be closer to you even though he was as close as humanly possibly.
“Luf, starting to get sore.” But he didn’t respond, his suckling only continued on in a steady speed. You sighed, and looked closer at the man between you chest. Drool was leaking from where he was attached to your mound.
“Luffy? Hey, get off.” You shook his head in an attempt to pry him off of you, he didn’t budge quite yet though. Fed up, you gripped the roots of his hair and tugged back hard, only then did he pop off from you. He didn’t move, only let out quiet breaths of snores.
“Hey, are you sleeping?!” This guy could really nap anywhere, anytime. Even while he was going at your boobs like that.
✪ Roronoa Zoro
“Does it feel good?” The green haired man behind you questioned, adding a quick pinch to the nub that was pressed between his strong fingers. “Hm?”
You nodded, you grasped the fluffy sheets from underneath you. He had you sat on his cock as he leaned against the headboard of the bed frame and had you placed between his legs with his arms wrapped around you, poking and prodding at your chest.
“Don’t pinch so hard please!” You pleaded with the man, bringing your hand up to pry at his fingers. He was to strong for you, you could feel the hardness of his muscles under his tanned skin.
“This is your own fault, you know?” He chuckled lightly, he was enjoying this whole thing. “You just had to wear that stupid, slutty bikini, huh?”
You moaned at the mention of your earlier activities and the clothes your were wearing. It was an extra hot day on the ship and a small bathing suit seemed to be the best remedy. Zoro didn’t agree.
“I can’t lie though,” He exhaled on the back of you neck and cupped both of your boobs, starting to squish your tits, the fat of them toppled out of the space between his long fingers. “You look so hot whenever you wear it.”
“But it’s only for my eyes, got that?” He explained, ending his sentence with a quick smack to your meaty breast.
✪ Vinsmoke Sanji
It was supposed to be a punishment, but to Sanji it wasn’t much of one. Because he enjoyed every and anything you did.
You had his hands tied behind his back and his eyes covered with a black cloth.
“Sit,” You demanded your lover who listened carefully to your instructions, you helped guide him, he then nestled into the open space in your legs. “Go.”
As soon as you said that singular word, he eagerly began to search for your nipples, his treasure. His lips slithered messily along your flesh, blindly going in all directions.
“Would you hurry up?” You rolled your eyes, acting as though you didn’t love this. He did too, you could tell by how he let out little cries at your words. “You’re pathetic.”
“Y-You’re so mean!” He mewled, then returning to his previous actions.
“Ya well, that’s what you get for calling other girls pretty!” You were still bitter from Sanji hitting on another woman, right infront of you too!
You and Sanji walked into a new store, it had all these unique cooking tools and ingredients, right up Sanjis alley. The lady working at the till kept going on and on about all of the new items they had in stock, and when you finally got your boyfriend to leave, he said ‘goodbye pretty’.
“I told you I’m sorry!” He tugged harshly against his restraint, relentlessly trying to escape so he could touch you to his satisfaction.
“Sorry, but,” You paused, enclosing his slim build in your plush legs. “You’re just going to have to show me how sorry you are.”
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nova-amor · 7 months
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𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ◞
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𝐭𝐰 — 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 [𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦], 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 [𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟], 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 [𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐝], 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 [𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.], 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐩-𝐢𝐧-𝐯
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟐𝐤
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painted nails danced along the laminated wood of the bar top, your faint reflection glaring back at you from below. minutes went by slowly, prodding at the bubbling anger within your chest. you were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend, yet with no call, no text, it seemed like he had abandoned you again. it had been the sixth time that month you had received radio silence from your boyfriend on the nights you two had planned to go out. 
you had planned to have dinner at a nice restaurant along the water, agreeing to meet at a nearby bar before your reservation time. but, as the hours grew closer to the reservation time, and without a single message from your boyfriend, it seemed like he skipped out on yet another date night.
you raised your hand with your gaze still fixated on the black screen of your phone— silently hoping and praying that he would call or at least text you before you ordered another drink. the universe ignored such prayer, the bartender returning with a pitiful smile. you flipped your phone onto its front, finally giving up the notion that your boyfriend would be phoning you anytime soon. you'd have to wait to see what excuse he came up with later that evening when you got home.
"can i get another cosmopolitan, please?" you ordered, earning a light nod from the bartender. the martini glass appeared within seconds, the hot pink liquid glimmering beneath the warm glows of the bar lights. 
you finished the drink in two long gulps— the chilled vodka and orange liqueur burning your throat on its way down. before you could even raise your hand, another martini glass appeared before you, accompanied by a shot glass full of a caramel brown liquid. 
with a quirked eyebrow, you met the gaze of the bartender. they pointed to a spot down the bar, silently answering the question you hadn't even asked. following their direction, your eyes landed on a devastatingly handsome man sitting hidden away in the shadows of the bar. you swallowed thickly; your heart skipping a beat as his honey-brown eyes met yours. your thighs squeezed together, a flush of heat rising to your chest and cheeks.
turning your gaze away, you gulped down the second cosmopolitan within seconds, allowing the fire of the alcohol to course through your veins and stroke at your confidence. with a steady exhale, you gathered up your purse and phone with one hand and the shot glass with the other. you walked with a confidence you didn't know you had, chewing at your bottom lip as you took a seat next to the man.
your eyes drank his appearance in, wetness beginning to pool between your thighs as you set your items on the bar top. he wore a tight-fitting, solid white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows— fabric straining against the thick muscles of his arms, black and white illustrations etched into the tanned skin. your gaze lowered for a brief second, mouth-watering at the sight of his large thighs flexing beneath the dark cloth of his tailored suit pants, the heel of his foot subtly tapping against the polished floor of the bar.
"take a picture, why don't ya," the roughness of his voice caught you off-guard, cutting right through you like butter. you bashfully looked away, focusing your sights on the shot glass, murmuring a quick apology.
"so, what's a little bird like you doin' here all on her own, huh?" he grumbled, tentatively watching as he raised his glass to his pink lips. you twirled the shot glass around, cupping it between both your hands. you softly mumbled about waiting for your boyfriend before dinner barely loud enough for the man next to you to hear, stomach tightening as you met his intense gaze again.
you could practically smell him across the short distance, lingering warm aromas of patchouli and amber wood overwhelming your senses. your face feels hot as he glances at you through the side of his eye. his finger tracing the rim of his glass before taking another quick sip of his drink, finishing it off before waving the bartender down to order another.
"cat caught yer tongue, lass?" he teases with a smirk, body turning to face you. you shift in your stool, fiddling with the shot glass once more before taking it down in one long swallow. bourbon— the flavor notes of tobacco and honey staining every crevice of your mouth, scorching down your throat and to the pit of your stomach. 
"no," you finally speak, straightening your back as you turn to face him. your knees were an inch or two from brushing against his, bodies so close you could see every hint of gold in his eyes even under the guise of the bar's shadow. "just not used to speaking to strangers."
his smirk grew, the tops of his cheeks painted a faint hue of pink. 
"don't have t' be strangers, little bird," he looks you dead in your eye, leaning in close to you. you could feel the heat radiating off of him, pussy clenching around nothing as his soft lips brush against the shell of your ear, his warm breath fanning across the side of your face. "especially if you grab another bevvy with me."
the drinks came and passed in a blur, heating every nerve in your body with each sip and making the tips of your fingers tingle with a faint buzz. you were still cognitive enough to make conversation, the exchange of words between you and the man flowing with ease with the assistance of liquid confidence. your body leaned against the man's arm, head resting upon his shoulder. a rough hand ghosting over your thigh, fingertips brushing against the edge of your skirt as you tilt your head up to meet his eyes.
"what a shame yer boyfriend left ya all alone," the man's fingers tease at the smooth flesh of your thigh, dipping between your legs. his large hand encompassed almost the entirety of your inner thigh, the tip of his pinky poking at the damp cloth of your crotch. "but, at least he left ya with good company, ain't that right, little bird?"
you nod in agreement, chewing at the soft flesh of your inner cheek. your body shifts in your seat, spreading your legs a bit more to allow him more access to the sensitive space. 
"easy girl, eh? boyfriend not givin' ya enough attention? openin' ya legs so easily f' me," your pussy clenches with the weight of his words, his fingers cupping your cunt, causing a small whimper to slip out. "need me t' take care of ya, little bird?"
you let out an uncontrolled moan as he strokes at the slit of your cunt, caressing your clit with small, delicate circles. one of your hands reaches up to cup the side of his neck, tilting his face down and closer to yours. your lips brush against his, the woodsy hint of bourbon invading your nostrils. 
"please," you whisper, your voice low and breathy. "need ya, need ya so bad."
he chuckles, the tip of his nose nudging against yours. his fingers feel so good on your clit, his pace quickening. if it weren't for your grip on him, you'd most likely fall off the back of the stool, your body willingly succumbing to him.
"little bird," he hums, brown eyes staring deep into you. you whine as his fingers retract from your stimulated core, his fingertips dampened with your arousal. "we can take it to the bathroom."
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"mine," the man grunts into your ear, long fingers laced around your throat, constricting your breath. he's fucking starving—carving out your insides with his cock, imprinting every ridge and curve into the squishy walls of your cunt, devouring your entire being with almost little-to-no regard for you. "all fuckin' mine, such a good girl f'me. taken me cock like the perfect little thing ya are."
you try to suppress your moans, the walls of your cunt clenching hard around his cock. your eyes roll into the back of your head, tongue lolling out to the side, drool seeping out the edges of your mouth. your hands are pressed to the cool porcelain of the sink, gripping at the edges in search of support against the man's brutal hips rutting against your ass cheeks.
his cock plunges deep in and out of you at a rigorous pace, hot breath warming up your cheek. he leans back and releases your neck, the sweetness of air seeping into your lungs as his hands find their place on your hips. his fingernails dig into the soft flesh, a coy smirk tugging at his lips as he meets your gaze through the mirror's reflection.
"bet yer little boyfriend doesn't fuck ya nearly as good as i do, huh? doesn't know how t' make ya into a needy, begging, little mess, right, little bird?" the man teasingly rambles behind you. his cock nudges against your g-spot, bullying the sensitive spot relentlessly. you swore you could see the pearly gates of heaven with the way he was fucking you.
"bet he doesn't touch ya here," one of his fingers dips between your legs, toying with your sensitive clit with harsh pinches and tugs. your body reacts instantly, back arching deeper as you slump against the edge of the bathroom's sink. "there we go, little bird. yer lovin' this, aren't ya? c'mon, pretty girl, lemme hear how much ya love this cock."
another high-pitched whine leaves your lips as he plunges faster in and out of you, every inch of his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. you're impossibly close to the edge, fragile mind teetering on the edges. you could feel the hot knot at the pit of your stomach grow, spreading across your body and encompassing every inch of you with its fiery wrath.
"f-fuckkk, feels s' good," you cry out when his fingers pinch your clit roughly, rolling the sensitive nub between his calloused fingers. "hittin' me s' deep, don't fuckin' stop, p-please... holy fuck! s' close, don't stop don't stop don't stop—"
the man chuckles behind you, "tell me yer boyfriend doesn't fuck ya this good. tell me who owns this pussy, little bird."
"you! shit, f-fuckkkk, you do, my pussy's all yours, " you ramble, his heavy balls smacking hard against your clit. "c-christ, n-never been f-fucked this goood— fillin' me up s' good, b-best dick i've everr had—" 
with another harsh tug to your clit, you cum around his cock, pussy walls spasming and convulsing hard him. your orgasm almost brings you to your knees, breath caught in your throat as he pins you to the counter with his hips. with a few more thrusts, he cums in you with a rough grunt— hot ropes of cum sticking to every ridge of your cunt's walls as he spills every drop inside you. 
"thatagirl," he leans down, his towering frame encompassing the entirety of your back as you remain bent over the sink. you're too sensitive to move, his cock still rock hard inside you. you tilt your head down, your forehead pressed to the chilling porcelain edge of the sink.
"can't let you go just yet," he breathes into your ear, planting a sloppy kiss on the side of your head. you hum in appreciation, barely able to open your eyes to meet his piercing gaze as you rest the side of your face against the sink. he's still sporting a shit-eating smirk, blown-out eyes dancing with a mixture of possession and lust. "g'na clean ya up and take ya back to my room. how’s that sound, little bird?"
by the time you got home the next morning, your skin was littered with purple and black splotches and inner thighs stained with the memories of the previous night. the man had disappeared at some point before you had woken up, leaving you to recollect your items and yourself before doing the walk of shame.
as you set your purse down on your coffee table, mindlessly kicking your heels off to the side and succumbing to the soft cusions of your couch, your boyfriend appeared behind you. with a smug smile and bright honey eyes, he cupped your jaw— guiding your head back to rest on the back of the couch, allowing you to meet his loving gaze before he littered kisses along your forehead, nose, and cheeks, whispering sweet words of love and endearment between kisses.
“you could’ve given me a ride home, si,” you giggled as simon pressed a few quick pecks to your lips, the warmth of your love for him spreading throughout your chest, squeezing at your heart. “or at least left me a change of clothes in the hotel room. was a bit embarrassed that i had to do the walk of shame after spendin’ the night with my own boyfriend.”
“yer the one who wanted to roleplay last night,” he reminded you, stroking the hinge of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. simon glanced at the hickies and bite mark bruises that decorated your neck and collar bone. “had t’ give the full experince, little bird. that’s what ya wanted, right?”
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spctrsgf · 11 months
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morning banter
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summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)
a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy
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Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.
Don’t worry about it.
“Jake.”
Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.
“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”
Yeah you do.
“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”
Don’t bring me into this. 
C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.
“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”
Go to sleep, puta.
“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”
You deserved it.
“You wanna know what you deserve?”
Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?
“A fucking pun–”
His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 
But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 
Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 
Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.
“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.
HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.
“Sure, whatever.”
Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.
Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.
Or, he tried to.
“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 
Marc freezes. “Baby?”
“Mmmmm?” 
“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”
“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”
He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”
“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”
“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.
“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”
“Do we?”
“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”
“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”
You giggle softly. “That’s true.”
“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”
“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 
“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.
“Nope.”
His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”
“Not even because I’m asking you?”
“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”
“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 
You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”
“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”
“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”
Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”
“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”
“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 
“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”
“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”
“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.
He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.
“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”
“You can't leave me hanging like that!”
You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”
For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.
“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”
You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”
He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”
“You manipulated me! I hate you.”
“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”
“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”
“Hey, let’s calm down–”
“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”
Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.
“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”
He nods frantically. “Of course–”
“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.
The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?
It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 
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translations (HELP I FORGOT):
es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit
puta - bitch
i felt very fancy using these
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chrollohearttags · 7 months
Text
kinktober • day two
kink: office sex
character: nanami kento
show : Jujutsu Kaisen
fic type: drabble ( wc: 1.2K)
content warning + themes: choking (he uses his tie), spit play, missionary, squirting, daddy’s used a couple times, infidelity, hint of toxic nanamin
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。
“K-Kent—I’m gonna come if you don’t stop! I’ll make a mess..ruin all of the newest reports.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart..but is that not the point? Besides..it’s nothing we can’t fix.”
the type of banter that one would ever expect to be partaken during such a sexy, intimate moment. It was a scene akin to something from a movie or a corny, cliche porno. Alas though, it was your reality..back pressed to the pinewood desk, legs hiked up midair and three fingers hooked inside of your cheek. Being thrashed around on the base of your boss’ cock. Sharp thrusts being fed to your fertile little cunt…making a mess would have been quite the understatement at this point. A blanket like sheath and strings of your creamy arousal dripping all over his shaft. Honestly, he was the only man who could ever invoke such a reaction from you.
“Tell me though, my dear?..Can he make you do this? Hmm..has that boyfriend of yours ever made you come like this? You’re so turned on right now…” it was a fact that CEO and your secret fling, Nanami Kento was quite proud of. Holding you up after hours, long after the remainder of the staff had dissipated and gone home. Using the guise of some ‘special assignment’ that he only entrusted in your hands to have you squirting all over him. “We—really shouldn’t be doing this!—ahh fuck! It’s so wrong.” The words flowed from your mouth yet they meant nothing. Not when your body was singing an entirely different tune. One where you were writhing underneath him and sloshing around in your own slick. Having ripped your top open, Kento glared vehemently as your ample breasts bounced around, crashing against each other. In truth, there was nothing your sorry ass excuse of a man..if he could even be called one, could do with you. A woman of your pedigree deserved nothing but the best in every single aspect, including dick. You had been employed here for three years and not once had he ever seen that asshole bringing you lunch or flowers. But rather, aggravation and headaches about some girl he had been messing around with or how he had taken your car whilst you were out working. It utterly repulsed him! So he was going to vet every bit of his frustrations by fucking you senseless..
“But it feels so…fucking right? Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart? I mean, it surely seems like you do with the way you’re squeezing my dick.”
for all the days that he had watched you strut about throughout the office halls, wearing something far too revealing and rousing..all the nights he had dreamt of getting you alone and letting his tongue trail up your thighs as he teased that soaking center. Knowing the sheer anticipation alone had you turned on; waiting for him to peel back those panties and letting that sticky layer of arousal be exposed to the cool elements. Watching those nipples stiffen up as he pinched them between his fingertips…taking all of the time in the world to pleasure you. Which luckily came to fruition tonight. He had you panting like a little dog in heat, salivating and falling all over yourself..having already invoked one orgasm, he was hoping to produce so many, you’d barely be able to function. Wielding that dark tan tie that had cheetah print littering the material, Kento fastened the grip around his knuckles, tugging tighter as to slightly restrict your air. Being choked definitely turned you on more than you’d care to let on. Also, it would keep you reigned in, just in case you decided to run from the dick!..
“Tell the truth. He can’t get you this wet. Now can he? I’m the only one that can, right? This is the type of fucking you deserve, isn’t it?” Questioning with gentle coos as he slid a thumb between your lips to suckle on. Those innocent looking eyes glaring right up at him. Feeding you a soft slap to the cheek, Kento posed the question once more before ramming his cock deeper. “Y-yes, daddy.” Evoking a smirk and earning yourself a sloppy kiss as he placed a hand to the center of your stomach. “Thaaat’s my good girl. Now you just keep coming on this dick. That’s your only job right now, understand?” To which you’d nod, reassuring him you’d do as he said. Those quivering legs rested atop his shoulder blades, ankles laced with gentle pecks to assist in calming you down. When he’d notice your gaze starting to falter and your head falling backwards, Kento made haste in snatching it back up before hooking your jaws with two fingers.
“Hey, eyes up here, sweetheart. I didn’t give you permission to look away. Focus on this dick, nothing else.” Which was all but inevitable as that swollen appendage pounded into you. Hitting that sensitive core each time he thrusted in and out. A thick coat of pearlescent cream slathered over all that shaft, it was such a delectable sight. But Kento was a little greedy, egotistical if you will. He couldn’t let up until he saw you convulsing. Which wasn’t too far off base because once he hooked your jaw, you’d begin to pant as he sped up that heavy pounding. Not letting up until he felt that pussy tightening around him and clutching as if you didn’t want him to pull out..
“Kent!—I'm gonna come..”
“Ah..not yet. There’s one more thing I need.”
coiling your fingers together, Kento leaned down and gently brushed the top of your forehead before marking it with a kiss. “Tell me you love me..right now. Say it..” full and we’ll aware of the fact that you were already cheating but telling another man you loved him, only to turn around and be forced to go home and say it to your boyfriend was nothing more than a slap in the face. Even so, the immense pleasure and intensity of the moment had taken its toll on you so with his thumb caressing your cheek, you’d utter the fateful phrase:
“I love you, Kento.” Bringing a devious grin of sheer satisfaction to his face. With that, he’d prompt you to release and suddenly, a shower of sticky rain splattered his tan suit and blue button down that had been halfway undone. A sight he’d never grow tired of. Only to give you his load in return right after. You’d meet in a haze of passionate kisses to center you from those climatic highs. You’d stay like that for a few minutes; limbs entangled and lips crashing together…finally pulling away, you’d begin to chuckle, completely overtaken by bliss. Patting your asscheek with a gentle slap, he’d usher you up with his opposite hand to help you gather your bearings.
“Hey, let’s get out of here. The cleaning crew will be coming in a little while.” Informing you as he buttoned that shirt back up and fastened his pants. But whilst you were getting re-dressed, making the best attempt you could to make yourself look presentable and not as if you had just gotten ravaged by your boss, it was then that a familiar contact would appear across the screen of your iPhone..
Satoru 💍
you felt a sinking sensation in the out of your stomach, a combination of guilt and anxiety lingering but it didn’t matter. Because as far as you were concerned, the only man who could satisfy you was right here.
2K notes · View notes
punkshort · 6 days
Text
Roommates | 3. fun in the sun
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Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Maria organizes a getaway to Lake Travis for a long weekend. You invite your new boyfriend, but things quickly deteriorate, leaving Joel to help you pick up the pieces.
Chapter Warnings: language, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), semi-pubic sex, fingering, hand job, description of a panic attack, heartbreak, food consumption, golf
WC: 8.4K
Series Masterlist
Charlie was cute.
Well, cute didn't seem like the right word, and handsome sounded too stiff. But he was both those things and more. You discovered he was also very dapper when you met him for lunch one day during work. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt. One button was left open at the top, revealing a sliver of his tanned skin underneath. You almost felt out of place wearing what you thought was one of your nicer dresses when he took you to some steakhouse you never heard of that didn't have the prices on the menu and you began to wonder how he didn't own a home yet since he appeared so successful.
"I never have the time to look, to be honest," he told you with a shrug. "Work keeps me busy during the week, and even some weekends. Then between grocery shopping and laundry and occasionally going to parties and meeting super pretty girls," he smiled with a wink and you giggled, "I just never find the time to house hunt."
"I guess I got lucky with Maria doing all the heavy lifting for me," you joked as you picked at the remains of your salad.
"Yeah, and she did a great job. It's a good starter house," he said with a nod before checking his phone.
"Mm, I don't know about starter. She was hoping to raise a family in that neighborhood one day. She really likes the schools."
Charlie made a little noise and you glanced up. "What?" you asked with a small smile.
"Nothing, it's nothing," Charlie said, setting his phone back down on the table. When you tilted your head and gave him a look, he sighed. "It's a fine area of town, I just personally would prefer to raise a family elsewhere."
"Oh, yeah? Like where?"
"Barton Creek would be great," he said, and you nearly choked on your drink.
"Barton Creek? That's like, so expensive," you laughed but his mouth didn't twitch. Your smile slowly fell and you said, "are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious. You wouldn't want to live there?"
You huffed and sat back in your chair. "Yeah, sure, in my dreams. But I could never afford something like that."
Charlie leaned forward and took your hand. "But one day, maybe you could. If you go back to school at night and really apply yourself, it would only take a few years-"
"I told you I'm not interested in becoming a lawyer," you said, smiling up as the waiter cleared your plates. "I'm happy doing what I'm doing right now."
"Well, I'm just saying. You're young, there's options out there. You should really give it some thought."
At the time, you thought Charlie was being sweet and encouraging by trying to help you reach your full potential, but you would later discover you were wrong.
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"I want to get out of town for a bit," Maria said at family dinner one night. You all looked up at her, bracing yourselves for whatever she had already planned in her head. "What do you think about renting a spot on Lake Travis?"
She immediately clocked the table's hesitation. "Just a long weekend. Four days on the lake, get out of this heat and on the water. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"When?" Tommy asked, and Maria knew instantly she had won.
She gave him a few different options while he scrolled the calendar in his phone to look at his work schedule. Weekends were hard for Tommy and hit or miss with Joel, so she knew it would be a tough sell.
Tommy picked a weekend and Maria's eyes lit up. Joel was about to decline when you piped up and agreed to go and suddenly, he couldn't resist.
"Amazing!" Maria said, clapping her hands giddily. She picked up her phone and began to look at availability for lodging. "You can invite Charlie, too, of course," she added without looking up.
"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for not even considering him. "Yeah, let me see if he's free."
Joel's heart sank and he looked down at his food, pushing the pasta around on his plate while you texted that guy you've been seeing, completely unaware that it was tearing him up inside. He tried to not let it bother him and he thought he was doing a really good job so far, but he wasn't sure how he would be able to handle four days in the same house, watching him touch you and kiss you and make you laugh. All the things he wanted to be doing, and more, but couldn't.
"He can come for Saturday and Sunday but he has to work Friday and Monday," you announced. Okay, so two days of watching another man touch what should be his.
Maria spent the rest of the night planning the trip while Joel bit his tongue. Why couldn't Charlie take off work a month in advance? he wanted to ask. Doesn't he want to spend time with you?
But of course, he didn't say a word. He and Tommy listened as the two of you researched activities, restaurants and bars in the area and planned out the weekend, making sure to carve out enough time to relax on the beach because you knew that's what he and Tommy really wanted to do. Fuck, he couldn't wait to see you in a bikini.
"Aren't you excited?" you asked him when Tommy and Maria headed up to bed.
"'Course I am."
"You don't seem like it. I thought this would be right up your alley."
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "Why's that?"
You grinned and settled back into the couch. "Girls on the beach, obviously. Dripping wet from the water or sweating from the heat. I thought you would be more excited."
"I am," he said, leaving out that he was excited to see you dripping wet from the water or sweat. You hummed and stretched out your legs on the couch.
"Feel like watching a movie?" you asked, and he quickly nodded.
He knew it was pathetic but he couldn't help it. Any amount of time you wanted to spend with him alone, he would take. And when you curled up under a blanket and shoved your feet underneath his thigh while you watched the TV, it took everything in him not to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.
Because you were spoken for. And that would be wrong.
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It was so fucking hot.
The day you left for the lake, the temperature was close to record breaking and all of you had to admit once you were in the comfort of the air conditioned truck that Maria's plan to get out of town was truly inspired. And once you arrived at the house you rented, you had to give Maria even more credit because the place was stunning.
It was a two story cabin with four bedrooms, a spacious living area and a kitchen behind it. The walls were all made of wood, stained a dark cherry for ambiance while the house sat a mere ten minute walk to the beach.
"Oh my god, this place is so cool," you said softly as you walked around the upper level, checking out each bedroom. It was hard to choose, they were all equally beautiful and had great views of the small forest around you, so you didn't mind when Tommy and Maria picked the master suite. Each room had its own charm.
The first evening you were there, you decided to go to dinner and then hit up a bar nearby, just the four of you. Charlie had planned on arriving sometime the next morning and then you would head to the beach, where you would spend a majority of the day getting tan and drinking whatever was coldest from the cooler you brought from home.
"Okay, do not even start that shit with me, Joel! You know I have a fear of heights! I'm not going anywhere near that fucking thing!"
He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the boardwalk behind Tommy and Maria.
"It ain't even that high! It's just a goddamn ferris wheel!"
"I don't care, I'm not going on it. You guys can go and have a lovely time. I will stay down here, safe on the ground where I can't plummet to my death."
"C'mon, now. You know I won't let anythin' bad happen to you," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave lower as he pulled you in closer, the alcohol coursing through both your veins began to call the shots when you leaned into his hold.
"And what are you gonna do, Joel, if the thing breaks and I'm stuck up there? Do you have some superpowers I'm not aware of?"
"No, I think you're aware of all my superpowers," he teased, making you blush and shove him away with a laugh. "But I know I could distract you. Help keep your mind off it til help arrives."
You stumbled a bit as you laughed harder, Tommy and Maria leaving you behind when they spotted an ice cream stand.
"Yeah, I bet you would. Telling me shitty jokes or more stories of how you tormented Tommy on the school bus?"
Joel grinned and grabbed your hand, yanking you into him again as you continued to walk past various bars and restaurants packed with tourists.
"Both would work, I'm sure of it, but I had somethin' else in mind," he said without thinking, getting too carried away in the moment. It felt too good, it felt so natural as you walked with your fingers linked together around your shoulders and your head leaning against the side of his chest.
"Oh yeah? Like what?" you giggled, then hiccuped, then giggled again. Why did you have to be so fucking cute?
He opened his mouth to say something he would probably regret in the morning, then bit his tongue when you looked up at him curiously. You saw the look in his eye and you cleared your throat, leaning away from him when you realized how inappropriate the two of you must have looked.
"Maybe I'll try the smaller one," you said, trying to steer the conversation back after the awkward moment.
"Nah, I'm just teasin' you. Don't do anythin' you ain't comfortable with," he told you, making you smile right as you caught up with Tommy and Maria. He loved making you smile.
"You guys wanna head back?" Tommy asked, tossing a handful of used napkins in a nearby trash can.
"Yeah, I should probably get to bed. Charlie's getting here early tomorrow and he wanted to try to get a hike in before the beach," you said, pulling your phone out to see if you had any missed texts from him. Joel swallowed and looked away.
"A hike? Since when are you a hiker?" Maria said with a laugh. You shrugged and grinned before looping your arm with hers, heading back in the direction of the house.
"Charlie must really like her," Tommy said as he walked side by side with Joel, both of them watching you and Maria giggling and poking each other in the ribs. "Always took him for a workaholic. Surprised he would be interested in coming out here."
Joel frowned before lighting up a cigarette. "It's the weekend. Didn't think he worked on the weekends."
"Oh, he doesn't, but he likes to put in extra time. Always chasin' that next promotion. Always been that way."
Joel exhaled a puff of smoke before replying. "How'd you know him again?"
"Used to work at the bar with me, if you can believe it," Tommy said, "but it was just somethin' to keep money in his pocket while he finished school. He was always a hard worker, even behind the bar. Real focused, y'know? Wasn't surprised at all when he got a job right outta college with that finance company."
Joel took another drag from his cigarette and allowed his gaze to drift to the curve of your ass in your shorts, knowing that the darkness would give him cover. "And you stayed friends all these years? Doesn't sound like you got much in common."
Tommy shrugged. "He's a nice guy and fun to hang out with when he lets loose. Used to be a good wingman back in the day. But he's the type of guy who's real driven. Sets his sights on a goal and will do whatever it takes to get it. I think his parents put alotta pressure on him growin' up."
Joel nodded and flicked his cigarette onto the pavement as they walked up the driveway to the house. He should be happy for you. It sounded like Charlie was a catch but he couldn't stop from comparing himself to your boyfriend. Even if he quit his job tomorrow and started over doing something normal, he would never reach the level of success Charlie had.
He didn't stand a chance in hell.
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Maria was right. You were decidedly not a hiker. But Charlie seemed so excited to explore the area and you were just so grateful he took time out of his busy schedule to spend an entire weekend with you that you felt compelled to agree.
At least he gave you a great view of his muscular back as you trailed behind him, your legs ready to give out from the exertion any minute.
"I bet you made so much money as a bartender," you told him. He turned around and shot you a smirk.
"You checking me out back there?"
"Can you blame me?" you giggled.
"It's beautiful out here, babe," he said once you reached a high point with a clearing. He took a swig of water while you caught your breath. "Thanks for inviting me. I've never been out this way before."
"Really?" you asked in disbelief, "it's not that far from the city."
"Yeah, well, you know how it is," was all he said. You sat down on a fallen tree and stretched out your legs while Charlie took a few pictures of the view.
"Isn't Joel seeing anyone he could have invited this weekend?" Charlie asked out of the blue. You paused for a moment, taken off guard at the thought of Joel with a girlfriend. Something you never really considered before.
"Uh, I don't think he's seeing anyone serious," you replied.
Charlie chuckled and sat down next to you. "He's a bit of a fifth wheel, don't you think?"
Your face twisted up in disapproval when you looked at him. "Not at all. He's, like, part of our family. If anything-"
You stopped yourself before finishing your sentence but it didn't matter. Charlie furrowed his brow and glared at you.
"What? If anything, I'm the fifth wheel?"
"I didn't say that."
"But you were about to."
You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just because we all live together, that's all."
He scoffed and stood up, brushing off the back of his shorts before picking up his water bottle from the ground.
"We should head back," he grumbled as the guilt settled deep in your chest. You stood and wrapped your fingers around his bicep.
"Wait, come here," you said softly. He sighed and hung his head before turning around to face you. "I'm sorry. Really. I am," you reached up to cup his face and pressed your lips tenderly against his. You felt him relax into your touch and you smiled against his lips. "Can I make it up to you later?" you asked suggestively, and Charlie laughed.
"I'll hold you to it," he said with a playful swat on your ass. You squeaked and he grabbed your hand. "Let's get back. I wanna go to the beach and relax with you."
"That sounds amazing," you said dreamily as you followed him back the way you came, grateful the trail was now downhill.
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Joel didn't like Charlie.
And it wasn't because he had his hands all over you the entire fucking day, but that didn't help matters. He tried to keep an open mind, he really did, but something about him just felt off. It clicked with Joel later when he noticed Charlie had encouraged you to cover up your bikini before heading over to the bar to grab some drinks, even though they had brought plenty to share in the cooler. You had initially protested, laughing him off when you thought he was joking, but gave in when you realized he didn't want other men staring at you at the bar.
Charlie was trying to control you and you didn't even realize it.
Those chips are terrible for you, babe. Try these instead. They're baked.
You gotta reapply sunscreen after swimming. Don't you know that, babe?
What are you reading that trash for? You gotta let me broaden your horizons, babe.
Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe.
It was really getting under Joel's fucking skin.
"You're so quiet today," you said, plopping down next to him after spreading out a towel on the sand.
"Am I?"
You gave him a look and grinned. "Yeah. What's up with you? Did you not sleep good or something?"
Joel shrugged and looked out at the water, grateful his sunglasses were able to disguise his feelings on that particular day. "Not really."
You hummed and regarded him silently for another moment before lying flat on your back, stretching yourself out to bask in the sun's warm rays. You took off your sunglasses and closed your eyes with a contented sigh while he fought the urge to stare at your perfect body so goddamn close to him.
He forced himself to scan the beach, looking for anything to keep his mind off your soft skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat just within an arm's reach. He felt a stirring below his waist when he imagined running his tongue between your breasts, licking up the sweat collecting there.
"Everything okay?" you asked when Charlie reappeared, his phone in hand. Joel shifted and tried to subtly rest his book over his crotch.
"Yeah, just a quick work call. Hey Joel, I think that girl's checking you out," Charlie said, sitting down in the sand next to you.
Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and forced himself to be nice. For your sake.
"Oh yeah? Where?"
"The one in the white bikini. Blonde hair, big tits."
You whipped your head in Charlie's direction, unable to keep the shock from your tone when you whispered his name in disbelief. Joel tried not to watch but he could tell you were offended and he hardly blamed you. Who says that in front of their girlfriend?
"Not really my type," Joel said, settling back in his chair and closing his eyes.
"Not your type?" Charlie scoffed, and Joel cracked open one eye, once again grateful for his sunglasses because he caught you trying to silently shut Charlie up, but he continued to ignore you. "If she's not your type then who is?"
Your fucking girlfriend is my type, asshole, he wanted to say. Instead he just shrugged and hoped he would drop it.
He didn't.
"Come on, why don't you at least try to talk to her. Maybe invite her to dinner tonight. Then it would be all couples for once."
"Charlie," you hissed, a little louder this time. "He's not interested. Leave him alone."
"What's the problem? You were just saying earlier how you wished Joel would find a girl. I'm just trying to give him a little encouragement," Charlie said with a smirk. Your mouth fell open and you shook your head but it was too late. Joel's heart plummeted into his stomach and the familiar sting of rejection crept up his throat, strangling him. If you were privately telling Charlie you wanted him find someone, that must mean you were really over him, and whatever foolish shred of hope he was clinging to was all for nothing.
"I never said that! Joel, I'm so sorry," you said, scrambling up from the sand and turning on Charlie angrily. "Why would you-"
"It's fine," Joel said curtly, standing up and brushing the sand off his swim trunks. "You're right. I'm gonna go talk to her."
You twisted your neck to look up at him, your mouth opening and shutting as you struggled to come up with something to say.
"Y-yeah. I mean... go for it," you stammered and watched as Joel made his way across the beach. Even from a distance you could see the girl's face light up as he approached and you felt a pit form in your stomach.
"Why would you lie to him like that?" you asked Charlie with a scowl. He grinned and settled back into his chair with a book.
"I just had a feeling if a close friend motivated him, he would do it. Poor guy needs to get laid."
Fortunately you could blame the heat from the sun on your reddening cheeks. Charlie had no idea what Joel really did for work. You always skirted around the question whenever it was brought up because deep down, you knew Charlie would have a problem with it.
You slipped your sunglasses back on with a sigh and crossed your arms, still pissed off with Charlie but not in the mood to get into an argument. You tried not to stare as Joel flirted with the girl in the white bikini. She leaned into him and playfully shoved his shoulder with a giggle and your chest tightened when you saw him thread his fingers together with hers and lead her towards the bar.
You had absolutely no right to get jealous. Joel wasn't your boyfriend for that exact reason: jealousy. You had your own boyfriend who was very smart, handsome and successful. And sure, sometimes Charlie pushed you into doing things out of your comfort zone, but he was trying to help you grow as a person. So if he was so great, why did you spend so much time thinking about Joel?
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Chelsea was sweet, in her late twenties, got her degree in economics and also spent the better part of half an hour subtly rubbing her ass against Joel's hips at the bar. It was crowded, being right on the beach, and getting louder and rowdier as the afternoon dragged on. At first, Joel thought it was an accident, that the crowds of people forced her to press up against him. But he soon discovered it was quite intentional when she ducked her hand under the bar to rub his cock through his swim trunks.
"Whoa, what're you doin' down there?" he chuckled. She beamed up at him innocently.
"Feel like going for a swim?" she asked. He thought she was ignoring his question until they got in the water, swimming out a ways where it was quiet, but not too deep. Chelsea glanced around before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth against his, wasting no time slipping her tongue past his lips with a soft moan.
"I recognized you," she admitted, dragging her mouth down the column of his throat and dipping her hand below the water. He hissed when she slid past his waistband and wrapped her hand around his cock.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Mhmm," she said with a mischievous grin, her fist languidly stroking him up and down where nobody could see. "You're in dirty movies."
He laughed and squeezed her hips, encouraging her to come closer to him.
"You got me."
Even though she had her hand down his shorts in the middle of a lake surrounded by people enjoying a hot summer day, he had to admit that Charlie was right about her. She was sexy and charming and he liked how confident she was. She also seemed more than okay with his profession, which thrilled him. Maybe this was something that could actually work.
The first red flag came when he had two fingers curled inside her and she murmured I bet I feel better than those girls you have to fuck, huh?
It took him off guard for a moment but he shrugged it off, thinking it was just an idea that turned her on, so he told her yeah, so tight, baby.
The second red flag was when she asked are you gonna think about me next time you're at work?
His hips stuttered a bit underwater and he could feel the mental block building up. He tried kissing Chelsea to keep her from talking but it was too late, so instead he focused all his energy on getting her off with his fingers. Her grip loosened around his cock when she came, her moans muffled against his mouth. She grabbed at his shoulders desperately as her muscles went lax and he whispered I got you and held her against his chest until she caught her breath.
Over Chelsea's shoulder he could see you and Charlie on the beach. It was far away but he could spot you anywhere. While Chelsea murmured into his skin and raked her fingers through his hair, his eyes were pinned on you. You were standing up and brushing the sand off your legs, your perfect ass sticking out when you bent over in that hot pink bikini that was driving him fucking crazy all day.
Chelsea's hand was wrapped around his cock again, the mental block disappearing the longer he watched you. He groaned when you began to rub sunscreen into your arms, your tits bouncing with each and every movement. Chelsea took that as a sign to go faster. She whispered in his ear how big he was and before he even had a chance to stop it, his mind was imagining you saying that, instead. He remembered how nervous you were but then how you begged for his cock and his hips began to thrust into her hand underwater. Then, his breath caught in his throat when he watched you untie your bikini top, your arm holding the tiny pieces of fabric against your chest as the strings hung loose and you positioned yourself face down on the towel to tan in the sun.
"Fuck," Joel groaned, his cock pulsing in Chelsea's hand as he came. His breath was ragged and he fought to stand up in the water and not succumb to sinking to the bottom of the lake. She seemed to sense his struggle because she whispered in his ear let's go back.
As he swam to shore, the guilt began to wash over him for thinking about you when he was with another girl. That wasn't his intention at all. It was disrespectful to both you and Chelsea. But you were directly in his eyeline and he couldn't seem to stop himself. He could do better. He would do better.
"Hey, what're you doin' for dinner? A few of my friends are all goin' to this Italian place-"
"Oh," Chelsea said, cutting him off in surprise when they finally made it to the beach. "I'm sorry, thank you, but I have plans tonight."
He was a little disappointed but he knew giving a girl he just met a couple hours notice to go to dinner was asking a lot. "Don't worry 'bout it. Can I get your number? Maybe we can meet up tomorrow?"
Chelsea gave him a disbelieving look as she adjusted her swimsuit. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah, 'course I am. I'd like to get to know you better," he said with a lopsided grin. She laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck and that was when Joel felt the uneasiness settle deep in his chest.
"I'm sorry, Joel. I thought this was just a hook up," she said, biting her lip and glancing around the beach. He could feel the smile fall from his face but he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment.
"Y-yeah, sure, I get it."
"I mean, you're really sweet and all, it's just... you know," she said with a little shrug. He swallowed and nodded. He knew. You can't take a pornstar home to meet your parents.
"Maybe I'll see you around?" he said, and Chelsea nodded. She kissed him goodbye and he watched as she made her way down the beach towards her group of friends, who had been watching with great interest.
He was living every man's dream and he couldn't feel shittier about it.
He didn't want to just hook up with random girls anymore. It was fun when he was in his twenties but now it just felt pathetic. He sighed and turned his head in your direction. Charlie looked like he had dozed off in his chair while you were still laying face down with your eyes closed on your towel, your smooth skin coated with a sheen of sweat, pinkening under the sun's rays.
As he began to walk back towards the pair of you, he spotted Tommy and Maria making their way over from the opposite side of the beach, having done their own excursion for a couple hours that day and promised to catch up with the rest of you before dinner.
Joel was relieved. At least there would be a buffer.
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Admittedly, Joel drank a little too much at dinner. He was still a little bothered by his afternoon with Chelsea, but he would have gotten over it had Charlie not picked at the scab every chance he got. First, he ribbed him about not being able to seal the deal when he showed up to dinner alone, but Joel just politely laughed it off. Then, as dinner progressed and the table was on their third round, Charlie began to point out girls around the restaurant who looked like they could be single, asking Joel if he thought they were his type with a teasing lilt to his voice.
You hadn't really been paying attention. You were too engrossed with something Maria was saying, leaning across the table excitedly as the thin strap of your sundress slid down your shoulder. Your skin was practically glowing from the sun, your eyes sparkled when you giggled with Maria and Joel was finding it more and more difficult to keep his gaze off you. Charlie either didn't notice or care. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, his thumb brushing against your back or your arm while he explained to Tommy the Chelsea backstory. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between Charlie and Joel, providing a few forced chuckles at his teasing, then changed the subject the first chance he got.
"What d'we wanna do tonight?" he had asked, breaking up your private conversation at the other end of the table.
"Why don't we hit the boardwalk?" Charlie offered, tossing back the rest of his old fashioned.
"We did that last night," you said.
"It's my only night here, babe. I wanna check out the rides and shit."
Joel's jaw tensed and he looked down at the table.
Of course, everyone agreed, so once dinner was over they all strolled down the sidewalk towards all the bright lights, the intoxicating smell of sugar and the sound of carnival games in the air. Charlie spotted the Ferris wheel and snatched your hand.
"C'mon, babe, let's check it out!"
You stopped dead in your tracks, making him spin around in surprise. "I don't like heights, I'll just wait-"
"Oh, come on! It'll be romantic," Charlie murmured suggestively, pulling you into his chest and pinching your chin. Joel hurriedly walked past to catch up with Tommy and Maria, unable to stand there and watch him kiss you. He knew he was being unreasonable. He knew he had to get his jealousy under control or else it would drive a wedge between the two of you and he couldn't possibly risk that. You meant far too much to him. So, he tried to distance himself for the remainder of the night. He hung out with Tommy and Maria, checking out various shops, getting candied apples and playing games while he forced himself to not look over his shoulder and seek you out.
Looking back on it, he probably shouldn't have gotten that beer and shot at the bar after Tommy and Maria ducked into a photo booth. His head was already swimming from the drinks at dinner but he really didn't want to be awake later to hear you and Charlie through the walls.
Tommy and Maria found him after the photo booth and showed him the strip of pictures, laughing at some of the props and faces they were making when Maria suggested they take a ride on the ferris wheel since it would likely be their last chance. Joel told them he would just wait, not wanting to admit the mere thought of those little cars swaying back and forth made his stomach churn with the amount of alcohol he had drank that night.
He was smoking a cigarette and scrolling on his phone, sitting on a bench near the ferris wheel after Tommy and Maria had gotten in line when he heard you. The panic in your voice sent a jolt of fear down his spine and he jumped up, flicking his cigarette on the ground as he whipped his head back and forth, searching for you. Finally, he spotted you pushing your way through the crowds of people in front of the ride, your face red and soaked with tears. His heart sank and he rushed over just as Charlie emerged a few seconds behind you. When he reached out to touch your arm, you yanked it back so forcefully that you fell on your hands and knees, scraping your skin against the hot blacktop.
Joel called your name and you looked up frantically, your chest heaving. You reached out a shaky arm towards him and he immediately pulled you up off the ground, his eyes raking up and down your body, assessing you for damage. Aside from some red scrapes on your hands and knees from the fall, you appeared fine, but you clawed at his arms and gasped I can't breathe and his heart began to slam wildly in his chest. He held you up against him and twisted around, trying to spot a paramedic when Charlie waved you both off with a dry laugh.
"Bro, she's fine, she just got scared on the ferris wheel."
"She's not fine, fuckin' look at her!" Joel yelled, turning a few heads, but he didn't care. He dropped his gaze to your face, cupping your jaw and wiping your tears away. "You're alright. Hey, c'mon, you can do this. Take a deep breath in through your nose, like this. Watch-" he inhaled deeply and you did the same through clenched teeth, then he exhaled slowly, pursing his lips as you continued to follow his lead. He did it a few more times until the tears stopped and your color returned to normal.
"You alright?" he asked softly, brushing your hair away from your face. You nodded and looked around for somewhere to sit. He seemed to read your mind because he led you by the elbow towards the bench he vacated. Giving you a chance to catch your breath, he turned on Charlie.
"What the fuck, man? Why'd you make her go on that goddamn thing?"
His nostrils were flaring and he could feel the anger bubbling up into his chest.
"I didn't force her to do anything," Charlie said with a frown. "She's a fucking adult, she made her own decision-"
"Because you fuckin' pressured her!" Joel shouted, taking a menacing step forward. "I heard her tell you she was afraid of heights so don't bullshit me."
Charlie's hand clenched into a fist and his jaw tensed. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business before I knock you on your ass?"
"Is that a threat?" Joel countered, closing the distance between him and Charlie, staring him dead in the eye as he waited for him to make a move.
You shoved yourself off the bench and quickly wedged yourself between the two men, a palm pressed against each of their chests, pushing them apart. "Stop it, please," you begged, "I just wanna go back to the house."
They stared each other down for another moment before Charlie looked away with a scoff. He grabbed your hand and muttered something under his breath as he began to lead you away, but when you passed by Joel, you stopped.
"Thank you," you told him softly. You reached out to grab his hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. He nodded and forced a small smile before Charlie tugged on your other hand. Joel watched until the two of you disappeared into the crowd before he sighed and collapsed back onto the bench. He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to get his temper under control when Tommy and Maria walked over, hand in hand with huge grins on their faces.
"You missed such a great view, Joel," Maria said, then looked around the boardwalk, asking where he thought you and Charlie went.
"Back to the house," was all Joel said before gruffly standing up and lighting another cigarette to help with the burst of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
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Joel managed to calm down by the time the three of them arrived back at the house. He replayed what he had said and done over and over and just hoped that you didn't hold it against him. It didn't seem like you were pissed with him when you left but he knew his actions just made the next day incredibly awkward, so Joel decided once he saw Charlie in the morning, he would apologize.
When he walked by your closed bedroom door, it was quiet with the exception of the water running in the bathroom. He slipped into his own bedroom down the hall, then turned on the TV and fell asleep.
He slept in a little later than he intended but he had a hunch he wasn't the only one. It seemed like everyone had a little too much to drink the night before and from the sound of the plates and silverware clinking together in the kitchen below, everyone was getting a slow start to the day.
"Mornin'," Joel mumbled to Tommy, who was sitting at the table, rubbing his eyes over a steaming cup of coffee. He glanced up and nodded in return before bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip.
"Need help with anythin'?" Joel asked Maria who was busy cracking eggs. She laughed and shook her head.
"Go sit down. You look like you feel about as shitty as your brother."
Joel didn't need to be told twice. He sat down next to Tommy with a grunt, his hands curling around his own cup of coffee, blankly staring down at it, hoping it would bring him back to life.
"Hey," Tommy whispered, eyeing Maria from across the room who was busy gathering things from the fridge. Joel leaned forward and arched an eyebrow. "Charlie left real early this mornin'. I heard a car door slam and noticed his car's gone when we got downstairs."
"Shit," Joel muttered, glancing over at Maria quickly, making sure she didn't notice them gossiping about her best friend.
"Think they got in a fight or somethin'?" Tommy asked, but right as Joel opened his mouth to tell him the details of what happened the night before, Maria bounced over to them with a plate in each hand.
"I'm gonna go wake them up," she said, turning on her heel. Joel gave Tommy a curious look and he just shrugged.
"Didn't tell her," was all he said, then rolled his wrist in the air. "Tell me before they come down."
Joel managed to give Tommy the bullet points then began quickly shoveling eggs into his mouth when they heard Maria descending the steps. She entered the kitchen with her hands on her hips, looking concerned.
"What's up, baby?" Tommy asked innocently. She swiveled her finger around in the air as the gears turned in her head.
"Charlie left."
They both did a good job of acting surprised as Maria sat down with her own plate of food and with a hushed voice, told them you were upset and didn't want to come down for breakfast.
"Did they break up?" Joel asked, realizing too late that he sounded a little too eager, but Maria didn't seem to pick up on it. She was biting her nail, worried about you and trying to figure out how to navigate the rest of the day.
"I think so."
Conflicted was the only word to describe what Joel felt in that moment. He really didn't like Charlie but he hated the idea that he could be partially responsible for your pain.
After they finished eating, Maria checked the time and tapped her foot. "I think I should cancel the zip-line, Tommy," she said, "I don't want to leave her here all alone." Maria had planned for her, Tommy and Joel to zip-line over the beach, overlooking the lake. Knowing your fear of heights, she had intentionally picked that day, expecting you and Charlie to spend some alone time together.
"I'll stay, you two go," Joel said immediately, picking up their plates and heading to the sink.
"Are you sure?" Tommy asked, and Joel nodded.
"I'm not exactly in the best shape to be flying through the air, anyway."
"And I am?" Tommy replied, but Maria shoved his shoulder and put her finger to her lips behind Joel's back while he scrubbed the plates. "Uh, yeah, thanks Joel. You let us know if you end up goin' out and we'll meet up."
Joel stayed downstairs, alternating between going on his phone or watching TV. When it got closer to noon and you still hadn't come down, he began to worry. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple water bottles. Putting them on the counter, he scoured the fridge and scratched his chin. He was always a terrible cook, so he gave up quickly and resorted to ordering a couple burgers for delivery before taking the waters upstairs.
He rapped two knuckles gently on the door, then heard some shuffling before your voice called out, inviting him in.
"Oh, sweetheart," he said sympathetically when he saw your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You sat up in bed and tried to run your fingers through your tangled hair before sighing and giving up.
"Leave it to me to get dumped on vacation."
He gave you a sad smile and held out a bottle of water, which you eagerly accepted. He sat down on the edge of your bed and watched as you drained almost the entire bottle, then handed you his. You thanked him and set both on the end table before turning your attention back on your television, which he hadn't even realized was on.
"Legally Blonde?"
"I wanted to laugh but I forgot she gets dumped in, like, the first twenty minutes."
Joel chuckled and leaned back against your headboard. "I'm so sorry. If it was 'bout last night-"
"It's not your fault," you sniffled, pulling the comforter up to your chin.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Not yet."
He hummed and nodded, turning back to the television. He gave you all the time and space you needed, staying close by for the rest of the afternoon in case you wanted to talk, only leaving to get the burgers when they arrived. You ate them in your bed, grease dripping from your fingers and laughing at stupid movies until you felt good enough to get up and shower.
"You wanna go mini golfing?" you asked over your shoulder as you fixed your hair in the mirror. Joel cringed but agreed. He absolutely hated golfing, but for you, he would suffer through it. Especially considering your mood seemed to be improving.
"Lemme text Tommy and let 'em know where we're goin'," he said, pulling out his phone and following you out the door.
"Oh, let's just do our own thing tonight," you said, then cleared your throat when you realized how that sounded. "I mean, y'know, they probably want time to themselves, right?"
"Yeah, sure," Joel agreed, side eying you before hopping into the truck. You gave him directions to a mini golf course ten minutes away, then rolled down the window and stretched your arm out, the warm summer air slipping through your wiggling fingers. Even though the sun had set, the air was still so thick with heat it felt like you could grab it.
"It's so hot," you said, sliding out of the passenger seat once Joel parked the truck. You fixed your skirt; a flowy, white number that felt feather light against your thighs as you walked. Joel agreed and checked his phone, noticing a text from Tommy.
"Hold up," he said, and you twisted around, your tennis shoes crunching on the gravel parking lot.
We're gonna go to that Mexican place. 30 minutes.
"They're invitin' us to dinner," he told you without looking up.
"Tell him we already ate."
He nodded and tapped out a quick reply before pocketing the phone and approached the cashier.
"Two tonight?" she asked, smacking her gum between her teeth.
"Yes, but I'll pay for mine," you said, reaching for your wallet.
"Nuh-uh," Joel said with a frown, about to argue but the cashier spoke up first.
"It's date night. Two for the price of one."
Your cheeks felt hot at the insinuation that you were on a date with Joel, but you couldn't pass up the deal to play for half price. Glancing at him awkwardly, you shrugged and he slapped his card down with a cocky smirk.
"Alright, pick out your ball, but for the love of god don't pick the-"
"Oh, look at the hot pink one!" you exclaimed gleefully, snatching it up from the bucket. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "What?" you giggled, shouldering him playfully as you admired your ball.
"It's just such a girl thing to do," he said with a grin, then leaned over to pick a neon yellow ball for himself.
"Well last I checked, I am a girl," you winked and headed towards the door, his gaze falling to your ass only once before getting himself together and following you.
"Shoulda known," he tsked once he caught up, "matches your bathing suit and everythin'."
Your stomach flipped and you felt your cheeks grow hot once again but you just laughed him off and approached the first hole. The course was packed with couples, no doubt taking advantage of the deal, so it was slow going. By the fifth hole, Joel grew impatient and plopped down on a bench.
"Giving up so soon?" you teased, and he huffed.
"I ain't a quitter, just waitin' for some of these people to play through. Sick of standin' around."
"You sure it's not because I'm beating you by six?" you grinned as you sat down next to him.
"I'm lettin' you win, darlin'. Tryin' to mend your poor, broken heart," he said, rolling his head to the side with a smirk.
"Eh, I don't think we were together long enough to say he broke my heart, but it still sucks," you sighed, playing with your golf ball in the palm of your hand.
Joel eyed you for a moment, trying to choose his next words carefully. "You ready to talk 'bout it, or-"
"I thought he was nice, y'know? Like, okay, he could be a little pushy sometimes, but I really thought he was just encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone."
Joel frowned and shifted his weight on the bench. "What'dya mean?"
"Like, professionally. He was encouraging me to go back to school so I could get a better job, but I like my job. And other things, too. The ferris wheel," you said, rolling your eyes, "told me I should face my fears and all that."
"You're better off without him," Joel said without even thinking. You laughed and glanced up at him through your lashes.
"You think?"
"'Course. You don't need someone to tell you how to live your life. If you like your job, then why change it? If you're afraid of heights, who cares? Seemed to me like he was tryin' to fix you, and from where I'm sittin', you're-" he cut himself off and looked down at his hands, chewing on the inside of his lip to keep himself from finishing his sentence.
You stared at him for a moment, watching something flicker across his face. "I'm... what?" you asked gently.
He shrugged and took a deep breath. You're perfect, he wanted to say, but instead he went with "you don't need fixin'."
You smiled shyly and poked him in the ribs, making him chuckle.
"Thank you, Joel. You managed to save me from wasting the last day of vacation moping around in bed."
He let you drag him up from the bench so you could continue playing the course, but your conversation kept replaying in his head, distracting him. Even though you weren't a fan of his job, you never once pressured him to find a different one. You accepted him for who he was and it bothered him that Charlie couldn't do the same for you.
Joel watched you with a smile as you bent your head and lined up your putter with your golf ball. A little crease formed between your eyebrows as you focused on the windmill eclipsing the sixth hole, trying to time it just right. How could anybody want to change you? You were so adorable and sweet and you deserved someone who would worship the ground you walked on.
A foolish thought popped into his head and he opened his mouth, about to ask you a question that could possibly change everything.
"What if-"
He cut himself off when you tapped the ball down the turf, both of you watching and holding your breath when your hot pink golf ball managed to avoid the blades of the windmill and dropped into the little plastic cup with a soft clink.
"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, garnering a few odd looks in your direction, but neither of you cared. You dropped your golf club and jumped into his waiting arms, letting Joel spin you around as you both laughed and he told you what a great job you did, deciding it was best he never finished his question, anyway.
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yanderestarangel · 1 month
Note
So I saw a MSFW picture of Miguel and I had an idea.
Stepfather Miguel x FTM reader. The plot is that stepfather Miguel has been possessive and obsessed with his ftm stepson and the stepson actually enjoyed the older man’s attention.
The main smexy part is that Miguel asks his stepson to give him a pink desert. The reader thought Miguel meant a cake until Miguel pushes him on the kitchen counter and starts eating out his pussy (the pink desert was the readers cunt.)
- 🍒 anon. (You don’t have to do this request if it makes you uncomfortable! Love your works.)
TW: SMUT, EAT OUT, DIRTY THOUGHTS, CHUBBY/DAD BODY MIGUEL, FTM READER, BRAIN ROT, HANDJOB, STEPFATHER X STEPSON.
I think it's cute when anons use emojis to identify themselves (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。
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art credit @/marmar0u on twitter (X)
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Miguel was a man of forty-three years old, with a poorly groomed beard and some white hair in his locks ─ despite his tall stature he already had a "dad body" physique with a protruding tummy and some rough muscles in his arms and thighs... And now he had entered your family. You didn't like the idea of ​​having a stepfather at first, but what was supposed to be a bad relationship became like a balm for your stressful days.
It was common for the older man to spoil you with expensive gifts like perfumes, clothes and everything you asked for or wanted; your desires were his desires too. Honestly, it seemed like he was more attached to you than his own wife. Miguel protected you from everyone who tried to go against you and you could always count on his soft lap and good hugs at the end of the day. Your stepfather loved having you in his arms, close to him... In his control.
It was obvious to outsiders that Miguel was a man obsessed with you, possessive and jealous. No man or woman could come close to his beloved stepson ─ he used manipulation, threats and even money to keep you all to himself, especially being the only father figure you had in your life. Bringing you close to him with praise for every little thing you did wasn't difficult, especially when you cooked for him.
In the distorted head of your dear stepfather, every dish made for him was a preparation for you to be his little husband one day, perhaps when he would have enough courage to ask for a divorce from your mother; but until then he liked to have control of his body and mind.
── That was supposed to be an ordinary night, the warm afternoon gloom still hung in the air as you walked around the house to prepare dinner since your mother had gone out to visit some of your relatives. You obviously preferred to stay in the company of your stepfather Miguel, who was drinking some beer in the living room armchair and watching every move you made around the kitchen.
He had controlled himself a lot in the last few days and gave you more personal space than he should have, making you even meet new people. Jealousy consumed every fiber of the tanned man's being, leading him to have a simple idea to put you in your place.
"You know boy, I wanted you to make a pink dessert would you give me?" His voice came out hoarse as you watched the older man stand up to his full height, as you saw him smirk mischievously, his adam's apple bobbed visibly, desire pooling in his voice.
You initially agreed innocently, already getting ready to get the ingredients and make a strawberry cake, but soon you felt thick calloused hands on your wrists as he bent you under the cold marble counter and pulled down your shorts along with your underwear ── exposing the pink flesh of your pussy, while you felt his breath mixed with expensive drink. Miguel savored the sight of your exposed little cunt, his hunger growing with each passing second. He lowered his head further, capturing your clitoris between his lips and flicking it gently with his tongue.
"Oh, you taste delicious mi hijo," he moaned against your flesh, suckling and nibbling at your sensitive bud. His hands gripped your thighs harder, spreading you wide open for his pleasure. He paused momentarily, admiring the pink folds of your sex before delving back in, eager to explore every inch of you. His tongue darted inside, teasing and probing, causing your hips to buck deliciously.
"I could eat you out all night, boy... Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted, baby boy?" His fingers dug gently into your thighs, seeking permission with his gaze. As you nodded regardless of whether it is right or wrong he dove back in, licking and sucking your clit with renewed vigor, savoring the taste of you. His tongue danced around, teasing your folds and driving you further into pleasure.
He growled low in his throat, responding to the dominance behind your request. His fingers bit into your flesh harder, claiming ownership as he devoured your pussy. Each thrust of his tongue was a claim, each suckle a promise. An intense heat surged between us, fueling the connection and burning brighter with every pass.
He thrust blindly, driven by a newfound ferocity. The sweetest sound escaped your mouth-your pleas for 'papi'-and he used it to feed his hunger. His free hand reached for his erection, stroking it through his boxers ─ "So you enjoy being ravaged by your papi, mi pequeño?" Miguel purred, his grip on his cock tightening as he watched your reaction.
Each stroke matched the rhythm of his tongue, mirroring the passion between you both.
Every time he swirled it around your clit, his shaft leapt in his hand, pulsating in sync. His tongue lashed at your most sensitive spots, eliciting fresh moans from deep within you.
The combination of stimulation left you gasping under his careful touch; Miguel was determined to send you high... A desperate need to please, to dominate, consumed him entirely. His beard scraped against your skin with each frantic movement, adding another layer to the sensations engulfing you.
His tongue lashed at your clit, twirling it one last time to push you over the edge. His hand pumped furiously, matching the intensity of your release. Watching you climax drove him wild, a surge of pure hunger coursing through him. He pulled away reluctantly, leaving your pussy wet and quivering from the attention. With a final, satisfied stroke, he came undone, splattering onto his stomach. A growl resonated in the air as he relished the view of your satisfaction.
His chest rose and fell heavily, his gaze locked on your flushed face. Victory and possession painted across his features, a silent declaration of his newfound control. Your stepfather leaned down to kiss your dripping slit, a quiet congratulations for reaching a peak only he could provide.
"Next time, it'll be my turn mi hijo... Thanks for the dessert."
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hairmetal666 · 9 months
Text
Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.
For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.
He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.
The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.
It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"
In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."
Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.
Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.
Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.
Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.
They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."
How can Eddie say no?
Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.
The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.
The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.
It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"
Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.
He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.
Eddie needs a break.
He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.
His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.
The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.
It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.
The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.
His eyes meet Steve's.
Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.
Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.
They're nothing to each other.
Never were.
By popular request: Part Two
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f1girliefics · 1 month
Text
In Love with a Red Flag
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Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: To say that you hated him wasn’t accurate. But you didn’t like him. He was exactly the type of guy you kept a distance from. And yet, he will be the closest to you.
A/N: I realise this idea is not unique, shout-out to all the other amazing writers who wrote a similar piece!
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“Ferrari PR team came up with a solution to solve the problem. Together with the Mercedes PR team, we agreed that the best course of action would be to have you and Charles play pretend.”
You looked at Toto in disbelief. 
You and Charles? Play pretend?
You knew that due to Ferrari’s latest issues with their cars, along with Mercedes’ own issues became such an issue that the teams began to lose fans.
So, PR being PR sat down and came up with a wicked idea.
Having you and Charles date, well, fake date. 
According to both teams, you would become the next phenomenon and the fans would come right back.
All Toto could do was simply nod.
You let out a long sigh.
You have always tried your best to avoid Charles. He was exactly the type of guy you kept a good distance from. You knew about his method of dating. 
The women he dated and how often he changed girlfriends. It was a huge red flag. 
Much like his car, red all over.
You turned and looked at Charles who was just as surprised if not more than you. 
“I will be looking forward to working with you, Charles.” You said with a smile as you looked at him. 
You were on a yacht with him.
Soft launch as the teams called it. They knew the paparazzi would be watching. All you had to do was to act all lovely-dovely but not do too much.
You two being on the same boat would be enough.
With an ice cream in one hand, you headed to the deck, trying to get a little tan during your weekend off.
Charles soon joined you, sitting down next to you, you moved a bit closer to him.
“There’s a guy on the boat in front of us, he has a huge camera, and yet he thinks we didn’t notice him.”
“Well, I didn’t.” Charles smiled and so did you. “You know last year… in Hungary… you had that press event with the fans.”
“Oh, yeah! That was fun, I even wore a traditional dress. Kalocsai, I believe it’s called.”
“That one, yes. I remember, what about it?”
“I remember you being so… beautiful.”
“Thank you. But where did this come from?”
“You avoid me. I noticed you avoid me and Carlos. Why? Do you hate Ferrari that much?”
“Red is not really my colour.” You say, avoiding his eyes. “Especially not red flags.” You said before you got up and headed into the yacht. 
The paparazzi sure got a nice picture.
The same afternoon, you were all over the news. You did it. One step closer to the finish line.
You thought of this as if it was another race.
You just had to get to the finish line. This time around, you didn’t care about the placements.
You just wanted this to be over with.
The next time you had to go out with Charles was during a charity event. You were given a beautiful silver dress to wear while Charles was in a black suit.
He looked good. Probably way too handsome for his own good.
You didn’t like how he didn’t make it easy to keep a distance. He was kind, attentive, and really fucking handsome.
He had an arm around you at all times.
“I will bring us something to drink.”
“A gin tonic would be lovely.” You replied and he nodded.
This was the only time he let you out of his arms. And if you were honest. You kinda missed it.
No.
This can’t be. 
You cannot fall for him. You will not!
Toto walked over to you, complimenting your dress and dedication.
“This little PR thing works like a charm. Our team gained almost half a million new followers since last week.” Of course that is all he would care about. For now, at least, Toto had a sweet spot for you so it was only a matter of time for him to save you from this.
Fans come and go.
But your contract with him was clear. And even without that, he liked you very much. He often said you are like a younger sister to him.
“Good to know at least the plan worked.” Was your reply?
“And what about you and Charles?” He asked and you were a bit taken aback. “You two play your parts a little too well.”
“Oh please, like I would fall for a guy like him.” You replied and took a sip from your glass.
Toto only laughed a little. 
You however failed to notice that Charles heard everything you said.
He simply paid his part and handed you your new drink.
On your way back home, Charles was sitting in the back of the limo with you.
“What did Toto say to you?” He asked suddenly and you turned from the window to look at him.
“He said our teams gained a lot of new fans. He looked excited about it.”
“Anything else?” 
“Hm?”
“Did he ask about anything else?”
“No, he then just started to talk about the new sponsors.” 
“I see.” Was his simple reply. 
The next planned date was a dinner in a restaurant.
You got to wear casual clothes and feel like a human again. 
You planned on eating possibly the best food you can find.
So you ordered a nice juicy hamburger with fries and a huge lemonade. Then you ordered a steak with mashed potatoes.
Charles looked rather impressed that you could eat so much.
If you were honest, you had a great time with him. You two were talking a lot. He showed you a side which not many people could see.
“Can I ask you something?” He said, suddenly becoming very serious. 
“Sure.”
“When you were talking with Toto last week, you said something which really stuck with me. You said you wouldn’t fall for a guy like me. What did you mean by that?”
“I-“ this took you off guard. Should you be honest? But you also didn’t want to lie. “Everyone knew about your dating life. It was no secret and… it is a huge red flag.”
“Red flag?”
“Yes. You date one woman then you date their friend… it is a red flag.”
“And that’s why you avoided me?” 
“Yes.” You said right away, which probably wasn’t the best.
You could see your words hurt him. 
You wanted to say something else but then he suddenly stood up and excused himself to the bathroom.
You should have said something. 
But you didn’t. And it hunted you for the upcoming weeks.
“You did good, Y/N. P3!”
“Thank you, Toto!” You drove another round, smiling and waving at the fans even if they couldn’t see you. 
Max, P1, Charles, P2 and you, P3. It was a good race.
But you felt so awkward around Charles.
As they took you to your interviews, you suddenly stopped Charles.
“Charles.”
“We have an interview to do.” He wanted to walk away but you caught him.
“I misjudged you. I wanted to tell you back at the restaurant. I misjudged you. I had a great time with you, even if it was all pretend. I needed you to know.” Your assistant came to get you to see why you weren’t coming, so you headed to the interview.
Charles soon followed you. 
You had one week left.
One week of fake dating.
The last seven days. 
Why did it make you sad?
You should have known, but ultimately, you fell in love.
You fell in love with a red flag.
And you wanted to tell him, but how?
It was all too much.
For the last week, the teams came up with a simple idea, something to give a base to your upcoming breakup.
It was meant to be easy.
You should act like you hate each other, possibly even argue a little here and there. You two should look like you two hate one another. 
But, it didn’t exactly go as planned.
You smiled too much, you laughed too hard. It didn’t look like you were a couple ready to break up, you looked like the exact opposite. 
You were a couple fully in love.
At least you were.
You two ended up in a café, enjoying your coffee and tea while you had a small conversation. 
“What you said, before the interview last week. I understand how my actions can seem, and how my dating life looks from the eyes of an outsider. It looks bad… very bad and I don’t blame you or anyone for thinking that way about me. But I’m thankful for your kindness. It took me a while to realize that I used to do those things because none of them was the one I was looking for. But you… you are so different from them. I understand this might be sudden but I cannot be the only one who feels this way.”
“You are not.” You interrupted him, hoping to ease his inner dilemma. You smiled at him as he visibly let out a long sigh. 
He moved closer to you, and you leaned into him, pulling him down for a sweet and short kiss.
You could almost hear the cameras click. Instead, all you could focus on was his scent, his smile and his taste.
You sat back down in your chair, enjoying the sun, smiling.
The next day you broke the news to your teams. Toto was the first to congratulate you. 
He knew, of course, he would. He knew you and Charles would end up together. One way or another.
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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azriels-shadowsinger · 3 months
Text
Fix You (Azriel x healer!reader)
summary: Azriel falls for the healer and finds new random reasons to see her, but he never let’s her help when he’s truly hurt.
wc: 3.8k
a/n: warnings: mentions injuries and blood
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Never in a million years would you have dreamed of such an opportunity presenting itself to you, but after the battle of Velaris, your healing magic became rather well known among the locals. Eventually, word of your abilities reached the high lord, and he requested to meet with you. Now, ten months later, you are learning about tonics, salves, the anatomy of illyrian wings, and so much more to use along side your magic.
“One last thing. Rhysand said that Azriel is requesting assistance. Could you go tend to his injuries before you go home?”
You hide your laugh and agree to go. This is the fifth time this month that Azriel has requested a healer. It would make sense that the spymaster of the night court would need healing after missions, but he never asks for help with that. Most recently, he came by the infirmary to ask you for a cream that will help with sore muscles. Sometimes he asks for healing after training when Cassian roughs him up a bit too much, but even then, its minor injuries. One time he even used Cassian as an excuse, claiming the general needed some medicine for a cold, but later that day Cassian seemed perfectly fine to you.
Your friends think Azriel must have a crush on you and that’s why he always seeks you out, but that’s crazy. And besides, you heard a rumor that he has feelings for the high lady’s sister, Elain. But who could blame him, she's perfect.
You arrive at the House of Wind and head for the shadowsinger’s room. The house was quiet, meaning Cassian and Nesta must be gone. As you walk towards his room, you see a shadow dart across the floor, brushing against your ankle as it flies by and making you giggle. Before you can even knock, Azriel opens his door, apparently alerted by the shadow.
“Good evening. You requested a healer?” He nods and opens the door wider to invite you in and sits on the corner of his bed.
“Cassian accidentally cut me with his sword when we were sparring this morning. The skin has healed, but it’s still hurting. I figured you could use some of that fancy healing magic on it so I’m not slacking at training tomorrow.” He extends his arm, and just like he said, theres a jagged pink scar running up the length of his tan, muscular forearm.
You agree and sit next to him, taking hold of his arm and placing your hand over the scar. A warm sensation spreads from your palm to his arm, and moments later, the raised scar is nothing more than a faint line. You hold on for a few moments longer than necessary, your eyes fixated on his hands. There was something you found so beautiful and alluring about the scars, you didn’t even notice your fingertips slowly trailing towards his hands. As soon as your fingertips brush against the edge of the scarred skin, Azriel jerks his arm away and stands up.
“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you trail off.
“It’s fine.” He snaps, avoiding your gaze to look at the wall behind you. “Thanks for the help.” His voice is softer now, but you can tell he’s upset. You hesitate, trying to figure out how to resolve this uncomfortable situation, but inevitably, you decide it’s best to leave.
“Happy to help. Have a good night.” You leave quickly, trying to avoid making things more awkward.
The entire way home, you berate yourself for doing something so foolish. One of the first things you learned about healing is to not make your patient more uncomfortable when you heal them. And there you were, touching something that obviously would make him uncomfortable. You don’t know the details about how his hands got so scarred, but with his fae healing, it can’t have been pretty. It reminds you of a patient you had a few years back with similar burns. You were constantly making cream to soothe the residual pain for them. You wonder if Azriel’s hands still hurt from time to time…
———
Azriel’s POV
“Do you plan to injure yourself again during training today, brother?” Cassian teases. “I see yesterday’s cut has healed already. Did a certain healer come by your room last night?”
“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” I say gruffly and continue eating my breakfast.
“Why won’t you just ask her out?” He speaks with a mouth full of food, earning an annoyed look from Nesta.
“Because there’s no way that someone like her… it doesn’t matter. I’m over her now. Moving on.” I keep my gaze locked on the plate in front of me.
Last night, I tried to work up the courage to say something—anything, really. But when she touched me and I felt that magic run through me, I couldn’t think of anything but how beautiful she looked. I can’t help but remember the feeling of her hands on me, warm and comforting. And then, when she touched my hand, every horrible thought and insecurity ran through my head. How could someone so perfect ever want to be with someone so… damaged?
That’s also why I never seek her out when I return from missions. I don’t want her to see who I really am when I leave Velaris. One look at me with enemy blood on my hands and my own blood on my body, and she will run scared just like everyone else does. I’m just not ready for that rejection yet.
“I don’t believe that for a damn second, Az. You’re just scared. Take a chance, it could work out.” Nesta tries to be supportive, but she doesn’t get it. None of my friends do. I pretend to agree, but only to end the conversation quicker and move on to a new topic. Cassian gives a skeptical look, but moves on to discussing the evening’s plans.
———
Your POV
Two weeks pass, and you haven’t seen or heard from Azriel. It shouldn’t bother you this much, but you can’t help but miss his occasional visits, the way his shadows swirl around your ankles, the sound of his voice, the way he towers over you. Maybe you should find a reason to visit him. After all, he’s spent months coming up with ridiculous reasons to see you, you can do the same, right?
You look around your workstation at the various creams, tonics, and salves, eventually finding some that he would maybe find useful. Heading to the House of Wind, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous.
When you arrive, you see the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, walking through the foyer. “Hello. I was wondering if you could help me find Azriel. I have something for him.” You try to sound confident, but her smirk tells you she sees right through you.
“He’s at the training ring. The Valkyries and I just finished training, so it’s probably just him and Cassian up there.” You thank her and head that way.
When you arrive at the training ring, you are immediately stopped in your tracks by the sight of Azriel and Cassian sparring. You had always known the general had a nice body; you had healed it several times before. But Azriel… you have never seen such a glorious sight. The way the corded muscles of his back ripple when he moves and the way his wings, which were much larger than Cassian’s, were spread wide, you couldn’t help but stare. Eventually, Cassian notices you. He smirked, and then immediately moved to disarm Azriel, nicking him with the tip of the blade.
“What the hell, Cass? Why did you-“ Azriel turns and sees you. He turns back to Cassian, who has a shit eating grin on his face.
“Good thing your favorite healer is here to help.” You can’t help but blush at his words. Did Azriel talk about you to Cassian? “I’ll leave you two to it.” He saunters off, leaving you alone with Azriel. Azriel stands quietly for a moment, just staring at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the silence is killing you, and it’s taking all of your strength to not stare at the sweat dripping down his muscular body.
“I brought you something. You had mentioned once that you get headaches a lot. I have this tonic that can help with that. I figured I would bring it by.” You awkwardly fumble through your bag for the bottle, handing it to him. He looks at the bottle, then at you, a confused expression on his face. “Did you want me to help with that cut or…” you trail off, unsure of how to proceed.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks. And thanks for the tonic. I’ll be sure to try it next time I get a headache.” He sits on a nearby bench, and you sit next to him. Reaching towards the cut, you realize you need to avoid what happened last time and ask for permission to touch him.
“May I?” He nods, and you place your hand over the small cut on his jaw. You feel his shadows swirling around your hand, almost curious about your actions. Your fingers trail over his sharp jaw line in admiration. “All done.” You stand and step away, waiting to see if he will say anything. You were about to leave, but you apparently can’t leave well enough alone, so you dig through your bag again.
“I have this other stuff you might want.” You find the soothing cream. “I had a patient a few years ago with burns similar to yours. She told me her scars would hurt occasionally, so I would make this cream for her. I don’t know if that happens to you as well, but if you want it, it’s yours.” You reach out to hand him the cream, but he just stares at you.
After a few moments, you awkwardly set it on the bench next to him. “Okay then. I’ll see you around.” You turn to leave, eager to end this train wreck of an interaction. You hurried out so quickly, that you didn’t hear the faint “thank you” coming from Azriel.
———
Several days pass without seeing Azriel. Gods, you were definitely so out of line with the cream. He probably doesn’t like to talk about the scars. You shouldn’t have gone to find him in the first place. He was obviously avoiding you. The bell above the door rings, indicating a patient has entered.
“One moment!” You call from the back of the workstation. When you make your way to the front room, you are surprised to see Azriel.
“What are you doing here?” You ask softly.
“I’m sorry for my rude behavior the other day. I didn’t know how to respond to your kind gesture. No one has ever…” he trails off, setting the empty container of hand cream on the counter. “It helped a lot. I was wondering if you had any more?” Your face lights up, causing him to smile as well.
“Of course! Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” You rush excitedly to the storeroom. It was always such a wonderful feeling to help a patient feel better, but having been right about this made you feel so happy. You return with three containers of cream. “This one is the same as the one I gave you. This one is infused with lavender. And this one is infused with eucalyptus.” You explain excitedly. He chuckles at your eagerness.
“Thank you. I’ll let you know which smell I like best.” He smiles softly. “And thank you for before. For noticing. No one has ever taken notice like that before. People usually don’t like to even look at my hands, nonetheless, ask about it.” You blush.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the burns? It may help me formulate a more customized soothing cream for you in the future if I know how you got them. Only if you’re comfortable sharing.” Azriel sucks in a deep breath and looks at his hands.
“The details are… unpleasant.“ He hesitates. “Oil was poured over my hands and lit on fire. My bro-“ he pauses. “The people who did this ensured that I healed as they burned, so that the scarring was worse. Now I’m stuck with these ugly scars.” You try to hold back the tears in your eyes. How could somebody be so cruel and vicious as to do that to someone? “The pain is usually a sharp ache around my knuckles and fingers, if that helps.” He mutters quietly, avoiding your gaze. You hesitantly reach for his hand. He looks surprised by this, but lets you. You hold his large hand in both of yours and look deep into his eyes.
“I’m very sorry that happened to you. No one deserves such treatment. And your scars are not ugly, they represent what you have overcome.” Azriel blushes. A small shadow glides over your hands as you hold his, pulling a giggle from you. “The shadows are kinda cute.”
Azriel looks at you with surprise again. “Most people are afraid of them.” You watch a shadow weave between your fingers, letting go of Azriel’s hand to play with the shadow.
The two of you talk for a while longer before he eventually leaves. A smile stays on your face for the rest of the evening.
———
A week later.
You’re awoken late in the night by a chilly feeling across your skin. Assuming you forgot to shut your window, you groggily open your eyes to stand, but when you do, you see several shadows swirling around you and your room.
Panic immediately sets in. You have never seen Azriel’s shadows move in such a way, almost frantic. And the shadowsinger himself is nowhere near Velaris, supposedly on a mission, according to what Cassian said days ago. The shadows swirl around you, tugging you to stand. You throw on your coat and follow the shadows, praying to the gods that you don’t find what you think you will.
Upon arrival at the House of Wind, you hear panicked voices and yelling. You rush towards the commotion, finding a bloody mess when you arrive. You run towards Cassian and Nesta, trying to see what’s wrong, but when you look down, you see it.
Azriel. Covered in blood. Several arrows sticking out of his abdomen and wings, reeking of faebane. You immediately crouch and begin to inspect the damage.
“Cauldron, what happened? How long has he been hurt? Where is Madja?” You fire off a string of questions, not bothering to wait for an answer. Azriel groans in pain, barely conscious, with his eyes shut.
“He just winnowed here like this. We don’t know what happened, he pretty much passed out as soon as he got here.” Cassian looks at you nervously. “I tried to pull one of the arrows out, but the wounds won’t heal. The arrows are dipped in faebane.”
“Go get a bucket of water, a washcloth, and bandages.” You order to no one in particular before assessing the best plan for removal. When Nesta returns with the materials, you begin to remove the first arrow from his abdomen. Luckily, it didn’t hit any vital organs. When the arrow finally is removed, Azriel yells in pain.
“I know, I’m sorry. Just stay still and it will be over soon.” You try your best to use a soothing voice, but the shakiness is still evident. You get the second arrow out of his abdomen and begin to clean the wounds, working your healing magic as you go. Cassian and Nesta are standing over you, watching nervously, which only makes you more anxious.
“I got the worst of the injuries handled, he’s going to be fine. I still need to work on his wings, which may take a while and won’t be pretty. You two may want to go for now.” You say, not looking away from Azriel. Cassian and Nesta reluctantly leave, promising to return with the others in a bit.
“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.” You warn Azriel, who’s still unconscious, while you grip the arrow in his upper left wing and work to remove it. As soon as the arrow moves slightly through his wing, his eyes open wide and he howls in pain. He looks at you, just now noticing that it’s you tending to his injuries, and looks panicked.
“Wh-what… how are you here?” He rasps, wincing as the arrow is fully removed. He tries to sit up, but you force him to remain laying down.
“Your shadows found me. I figured you sent them.”
“No. They’re supposed to find Madja or Feyre if I get badly injured. I don’t know why they went to you.” He says gruffly. You try not to get upset by his words as you begin to stitch and heal the wound. Something about his demeanor is vastly different from how he usually acts, colder even.
"Well, you got me instead. Sorry to disappoint.” You mutter, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. You can tell he wants to say something else, but as soon as you grab ahold of the second arrow, all he can manage is groans and curses.
After you remove the third and final arrow, Azriel speaks. “You’re not supposed to be the one who handles my major injuries.” You can’t hide the pain in your eyes, so you look away to focus on working your healing magic on the final wound and bandaging it.
“I can handle more than basic tonics and minor injuries, you know.” You say quietly, cleaning away some of the blood with a washcloth. You gather the bloodied cloths and arrows, moving quickly to dispose of them.
“I know you can. I just don’t want-“ his words are cut short by the high lord rushing in, immediately requesting a status update. Azriel didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was about to say. He doesn’t want you here. You turn from Azriel to give Rhysand a full briefing on the injuries and the expected recovery process. After calming a bit, he begins to help Azriel up and to his room.
“It looks like you’re in good hands. I’m going to go update Madja on the situation so she can manage your recovery.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. Before he can say anything else, you’re gone.
———
You avoid Azriel for a couple weeks. Every time he tries to come to the infirmary, you send another healer to take care of him. You couldn’t help asking Madja how his recovery was progressing, but she refused to tell you, stating that you were perfectly capable of asking him yourself. You know that you aren’t as skilled as Madja in some aspects of being a healer, but you never thought that Azriel would doubt your abilities. You guess that’s why he never asked for your help after missions. Maybe those months of ridiculous requests were just a joke to him, something to laugh about with his friends.
The sun goes down, signaling that it’s time for you to head home. You say goodbye to Madja and leave out the front door.
“Y/n.” You immediately turn toward the voice. Waiting by the door, you find Azriel. You look him up and down, assessing for injuries and observing his healing progress. The scars on his wings are only faint marks now.
“You look like you’re healing well. If you need medical attention, I suggest asking a more skilled healer, like Madja.” You say bitterly, walking past him. He sighs heavily.
“I didn’t mean to upset you that night. You weren’t supposed to see me like that.” He follows behind you, catching up quickly due to his long legs.
"Yes, you made that very clear. You didn’t want me there, you don’t trust me to handle your manor healing. I heard you loud and clear.” You refuse to look at him.
"No, that’s not-“ You turn down a side road suddenly, trying to evade him. “I know you can handle healing my more serious injuries, I just didn’t want you there.” You stop and stare at him, slightly in disbelief at his words. Is he really this cruel, or is he just really this bad at speaking to people? He reads your expression and backtracks.
“No, it’s not that I don’t want you around, I just don’t want you there.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Gods, I’m just making this worse. Can I start over?” You don’t respond, but he takes the fact that you aren’t walking away as a yes.
“I didn’t want you to handle my major injuries because, when I’m focused on my missions, I am a completely different person. I hate who I am outside of this city. I hate what I have to do, but I do it to protect my court and protect my family. When I get back, it sometimes takes me a while to get back to normal. I didn’t want you to see me like that, so I wouldn’t scare you off. It seems I managed to do that anyway, so I guess I was right to stay away.” You finally look at him. Who treated him so poorly to make him think so low of himself?
You take a step closer to him and look into his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of you that night. I was scared that you could’ve died. I was scared of the way you pushed me away. But never of you. I’ve healed fae from all over with horrible histories, grusome wounds, and severe PTSD. You’re job is hard, but you shouldn’t handle that burden alone.”
“You spend enough of your time fixing people, I don’t want to be another person you feel like you need to fix.” He says in a self loathing tone.
“You aren’t broken, Azriel. You don’t need fixing, just support.” You take his hand. “Let me be there for you. Let me be your friend. Please.” He stares at your hand holding his for a few moments.
“What if I don’t want you as my friend?” You frown, and he immediately realizes how that must have come across as you attempt to pull your hand away. He tightens his grip on your hand. “What I mean is, will you go to dinner with me? Like, on a date?” You look at him surprised, blushing hard. “Cmon, y/n. I thought I was pretty obvious that I have feelings for you with my dozens of ridiculous injuries and requests.” He chuckles.
“I would love to get dinner, Azriel.” He gives you a wide smile. The two of you begin to walk side by side down the street. After a few moments of silence, Azriel speaks.
“Now that you’re no longer mad at me, can I have more of that soothing cream? I’ve been out for like a week, but I’ve been too afraid to ask you for more.” You laugh.
“Of course you can.”
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Have a great weekend everyone!!
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krispykollection · 1 month
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Peanut Butter
Part 1: Anjay
"Seriously Anjay you're eating more of that stuff? Look at yourself, do you really think you need more? You're practically bursting out of your skin already."
Gosh, I almost can't even believe how we got here. If you had asked me if I'd be standing backstage at a local bodybuilding show with a hulked out and glistening version of my best friend Anjay, I'd have for sure thought I were hallucinating off some bad lunch… Funny how close to truth that would end up to be.
It all started 3 days ago when an unannounced package appeared on our doorstep addressed to Anjay. Not only was he not expecting anything, the contents were even stranger. Pulling off the packing paper revealed contents not immediately familiar to two skinny young men like us.
To the left a shimmery pile of purple blueish fabric. Anjay held it up cautiously as it unfurled. The garment presented itself as a bikini, the sight of it filling both of us with an awkward embarrassment of being in possession of such an obscene object.
Anjay quickly dropped it on the table before turning his attention back to the box. I had to lean in closer to make out the next object of mystery. A brown bottle of… tanning oil? "What kind of crazed sex fetish shit is this, David?" Anjay turned to me and questioned.
I didn't know what to say, so I just looked back down at what's left. The remaining item, while on the one hand familiar, only served to confuse further. It was a container of plain old peanut butter. At least something normal, but what on earth did it have to do with any of this? As I picked it up to examine it closer a final item was revealed underneath, and with it an explanation.
"Ohhh" we remarked in unison with the kind of trailing off that makes it clear we're still skeptical. It was a pass for what appeared to be a local bodybuilding show and not just any kind of pass, one for a competitor. That well explained the first two items, not a bikini, but a pair of posers, and not just any tanning oil, the kind used to cake a fake shimmering bronze sheen onto huge muscle heads so they can show off their freakish masses onstage.
The peanut butter could be reasoned to be just a backstage snack for a lunk like the probable intended recipient, but that's where the last mystery comes into play. The name on the badge, it was Anjay's. Realizing the same, he flipped the top flap of the box back to check the address on the shipping label, sure enough it was ours. "Hmph…" he said defeatedly.
In an effort to put a quick and tidy end to the strange past few minutes we had found ourselves in, I offered up a solution. "I guess there must be some other Anjay Bajwa in the area, the show probably just got the wrong address."
Anjay tacitly agreed. I'm sure we both knew the obvious holes in that explanation, our town isn't all that big, and being solidly in the midwest of the united states, Anjay Bajwa was not exactly a common name.
"This guy probably wants this… stuff, right? Should we, uh, try to find him?" Anjay weakly questioned.
I conjured up the image of the intended recipient. Some roided out freak standing wider than a doorway with arms bigger than my head ready to crush someone like me in a single moment. A rush of fear ran down my spine. With a similar picture playing out in Anjay's head, we turned to face each other and in unison uttered "Nah…"
Anjay put the items back in the box and loosely closed the flaps. He tossed it in the corner of the room to hopefully forget about, at least for a awhile.
I wish I could say the strangeness ended there, in fact that was almost true, all the way up to this morning.
I woke up before Anjay. The apartment was bare so I decided to head out early, grab a coffee and a bite, and run some errands. When I got back in the late morning I could sense something was off even before I opened our front door.
Through the opening door I spotted not Anjay, but a nearly naked yoked out freak. I stood frozen for a moment. He was thankfully facing away from me admiring himself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. I spied something familiar, the colorful posers. That's when it hit me, this must be the other Anjay looking for his package. A rush of fear shot down my spine, what if he's pissed we had it? Just look at those fucking arms, that back, he could pulverize me without breaking a sweat.
I stood there long enough for the creature to take notice. As he turned to face me, my fear took it's place as a side dish, with a main course of bewilderment. It was Anjay, my Anjay, from neck up at least, or what's left of it. Finally I broke my silence exclaiming "What the hell, man?!"
"Dave! I'm soo glad you're home! Bro, drop that stuff but hold onto your keys, we gotta hurry!" I instinctively stepped out of the way as he came powering towards me. In another second he was out the door, a gust of wind cast from his wide torso the only remnant by the time I had spun around. He was halfway down the hallway by the time I made it out the door. I was astonished he could move so fast with how big his legs had gotten, they clashed with every step yet he was practically sprinting to the parking lot. Still he was clad in nothing but those posers, but passerby's opted to say nothing, either terrified by the sight in front of them or insanely aroused.
Thankfully I hadn't locked my car doors, otherwise Anjay might have ripped the door clear off the hinges. The shocks of my late model sub compact protested as he slammed his weight into my passenger seat. Jeez, how much does he, does Anjay weigh now? Following his lead, I quickly hopped into the car myself. As I got in though, I slammed into what felt like cement, but turned out to be Anjay's arm.
"Huh, sorry bro, not used to my new width." Did he always say bro so much?
"Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?" I ask. That's when he pulled out another familiar item, the badge, pointing at it and exclaiming "Remember this? The expo center!"
"You've got to be kidding me!" too much had happened, too much had changed, it's all I could blurt out. "Look at me Dave, I'm gonna clean up bro!" Okay, that's a bro every sentence. "C'mon, we're gonna be late!" I took a second to sit and process as he sat by anxiously… "Okay, fine we'll go, but you gotta tell me what the hell happened to you."
Anjay was more than happy to tell the story of his morning. He started before I could even shift into reverse.
"Bro! oh my god bro, you won't believe it! So I woke up and there was like nothing in the house, but then I remembered that peanut butter from the other day. I grabbed a big ol' spoonful and plopped my ass on the couch."
As he spoke I found it hard to pay attention to the road, he was so animated, only exaggerated by his newly huge muscles, they were bulging everywhere at the slightest movement.
"A few minutes later, I started feeling this fuzzy feeling, I didn't know what it was, but it felt good. Bro that's when I noticed something else, my body was moving under my clothes, I lifted up my shirt and I had abs, abs bro!"
He took the opportunity to point at his obvious abs, flexing as he did.
"Once I connected the dots I practically ran back to the tub and dug back in… and before I knew it I looked and it was half gone! I knew I had fucked up, so I ran to the bathroom to check out the damage."
"My clothes were pulling apart at the seams, huge fucking peaks ripping through the arms, pecs busting out the front." He flexed each muscle group as he called it out. "Fuckin' delts, abs, quads, lats, traps, my god bro, you have no idea how good it felt, how good I feel!"
I recognized some of those words as he said them, using his obvious context clues for the ones I didn't. I had no idea Anjay was so knowledgeable about muscle.
"I didn't want to completely freak you out." Mission decidedly not accomplished. "So I tried to find something to wear, but the only thing that would fit were those posers… when I slipped them on bro oh shit, they felt so good, I looked so good, but then something else happened. My mind started filling with all this new knowledge… muscle groups, workout routines, diets, supplements, cycles, poses! Before I knew it I was a champion bodybuilder, through and through!"
"Yeah, you can say that again…" I said acknowledging the physical embodiment of his statement. "I'm worried those posers might of sucked some knowledge out of you Anjay, since when do you use bro as a punctuation mark?"
"Haha, don't be silly bro, I've always talked like this… and call me AJ."
AJ? I sat there just wishing for my friend Anjay back, not this beefed up bro'd out version of him. Hesitantly I continued, "Ok… AJ, I just didn't know you were so into muscle?"
"I wasn't…" he paused "at least I think I wasn't, but I mean look at me bro, who wouldn't want this?" With that he raised both of his arms up to flex. As he did his lats? flared out and brushed my shoulder. "Shit, I didn't even know you could even have muscles there."
"Bro I got muscles everywhere and then some. Look at the class on my badge, super heavyweight… damn right! Fuck, I'm so pumped, I'm gonna crush it!"
Anjay… I mean AJ, had his bare foot on the ground before I had even come to a full stop upon arriving. Again I followed in tow. Unlike at the apartment, the sight of a muscleman clothed only in a shiny pair of posers was of shock to no one inside. It's what they're all here to see, what I was here to see I guess?
He led us straight backstage, scattered around were other men and their own companions all getting ready for their time onstage. Looking around I was shocked to realize that AJ was the biggest of any of them.
"Bro, take this," he handed me the bottle of tanning oil "you gotta help me tan up."
I was taken aback "I uhh… well I mean, I don't uhh." I looked around, elsewhere many men were doing the same, but I couldn't I mean, we're friends, but I.
"Fine," he grabbed the bottle back "I'll get started."
He dotted the bronze tan across his chest and started rubbing it in, following it up with his legs and arms. If you thought he looked insane before, with the shimmery coat of tan his new freakish form really popped. Halfway through, I heard his gut grumble, he turned back to grab something else, the peanut butter.
---
"Seriously Anjay you're eating more of that stuff? Look at yourself, do you really think you need more? You're practically bursting out of your skin already."
"I told you bro, call me AJ. Anjay sounds so… formal. As for this," he says as he gulps down a spoonful "I'm lickin' this baby clean…" "Now, I've done as much as I can, I need your help buddy, I can't reach my back." He contorts his arms up and over or behind and up showing just how far he is from reaching.
"I guess there's one downside to all those shiny new muscles," I quip.
"I wouldn't call it a downside, not when I have a bro like you…" with that he made a little pouty face unbecoming of his brutal form. I relent and swallow my awkwardness. "Hand me the bottle." His eyes light up.
I walk around AJ, and I mean around, and find myself staring at the contrasted light patch of his wide back. Man, I really wish I had gloves for this, I lament as I squirt a dollop into my palm. Distributing it between my hands I took a deep breath… here goes nothing.
I feel a jolt of electricity run though me as I make contact. Something's changed, something's flipped. I watch myself as I spread the bronze coating. The back in front of me is the same, but the interpretation has changed. It's not shocking, nor disgusting, it's a thing of beauty. I zoom out in my head, my god, the whole thing is, he is, AJ is. I feel my hands gliding over the many ridges of his back, turning perfection into more perfection. That's when I notice something else, the effects from the latest bite of peanut butter… he's growing. I can see his flesh expanding between my fingers, I can feel it press ever so slightly more against my hands. I've never felt so connected to AJ and I know he can feel it too. The world around us taking a backseat to our own shared reality.
I reapply and venture my hands further down south ensuring that his colossal glutes get the attention they deserve. I pull down his posers, ensuring every inch gets covered. Before I know it my fingers found themselves deep inside as I gently tease his hole. Electricity shoots through me again as I watch him squirm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a figure coming in hot to our left. Fuck, we're busted, I think, followed up quickly by a different thought, wait, what the fuck am I doing?
The figure comes into focus, it's a frantic respectfully beefed up man in an official looking polo.
"There you are!" he yells out to us as I casually snap AJ's poser back into place. "You missed check-in, you better come with me right now if you don't wanna get DQ'd."
Not allowing for any protest he grabs AJ's hand to lead him away, muttering under his breath as he does, "These lunks, the big ones can't hold a thought in their head outside of their next rep…"
AJ grabs the peanut butter as he stumbles, then walks away. In between bites he shouts back "Grab a seat bro, I'll be lookin' for ya!"
With nowhere else to go I follow his instructions and find a seat in the amphitheater. In the relative calm I have a moment to process the events of the past few hours. Here I am, sitting at a bodybuilding competition waiting for my best friend to walk onstage and show off his insane muscles. I thought about how I feel about that, I have a vague recollection of being scared and confused, but now it seems clear. AJ's got muscles, he's a bodybuilder, of course we're at a bodybuilding competition. The only thing I feel now is anticipation.
I flash back to backstage as I sit and wait. I can't get the image out of my head. His muscles… so big, so hot, muscles are hot, AJ is hot, fuck! AJ is hot! I can't wait to see him again, to touch, I shiver. Almost on command the lights in the amphitheater lower to signal the start of the show.
Competitors start marching onstage, they all have nothing on AJ, I think, only confirming more as they continue to appear. The stage slowly fills as each hits their mark. Still no sign of AJ. I briefly worry something happened to him.
But then, the backlights of the stage are snubbed out by a hulking figure. It steps out under the stage lights. It's unlike any other man up onstage, it's hard to believe it's man at all. It's AJ.
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A hush washes over the amphitheater. You couldn't just see, but you could feel his movements, you could hear him coming. The thuds of his footsteps, the stretch of his posers trying to hold back the mass he's become.
He hasn't even flexed a muscle yet but all eyes were on him. I had no idea a man could be so beautiful. He is absolutely bursting with muscle. Every limb, every surface stacked with veiny glistening meat. I find myself getting hard. I stroke my cock through my shorts and make note of many other men in the audience doing the same.
AJ is wearing a cocky smile confirming that he is aware of all our gazes. He coyly takes his place in the lineup, pretending that there's any possible way the show will go on as planned now that everyone has seen him.
To their credit, they did attempt to run though a few poses, but even those onstage found it hard to hold form when their attention was quickly snapping back to their muscled colleague. Noticing this, AJ steps forward to give everyone what they wanted, his juicy up body, up close and personal.
AJ goes through an entire routine like he's spent ages perfecting every pose. His front double bi threatens to encase his head in delt and bicep meat. His ab and thigh positively does. And those thighs, wide sweeping drops of muscle, transforming into carved marble columns as he stomps down.
He turns around to face the other competitors, winking at their astonished faces as he does. It's time to give everyone else the a view of what they've been seeing. His lat spread seems to just go wider and wider without any sign of stopping. And his glutes, my god, they're absolutely planetary.
Spinning back around, AJ playfully takes a customary bow indicating the end of the show. It was indeed the end of the show and he needn't move from that spot on center stage. Not wanting to keep the godlike figure waiting, officials rush out and crown him champion.
There's no lineup. Second, third, who cares, everyone else is a blur. He's first, second, and third both in size and perfection. Medals in hand, AJ turns and leaves the stage, leaving the crowd to reflect on what they just witnessed.
I find AJ backstage, swarmed by all types, attendees, officials, media, competitors, they all couldn't get enough of him, couldn't get close enough to him. He sees me and pushes his wide body through the crowd like it's nothing. He doesn't even skip a beat as he scoops me up and carries me out of the room.
I can tell I weigh nothing to him. I'm a warmup weight. Even without being terribly stressed, his muscles were putting on a show for me. I watch his biceps and pecs bulge to hold me, just taking in the sensation of being cradled by muscle. We lock eyes and smile knowingly.
AJ whisks us away into a side room away from the crowd and gently sets me down in front of him. The room is bare aside from us and the plastic taped on walls and floor for tan smearing muscle beasts like AJ. Not exactly what you'd call ambiance, but it didn't matter. We have all we need.
Without saying a word I step forward and place my hands on his chest. He flexes in approval. I feel a jolt run though me as I feel his pecs shift from beautiful pillows to striated boulders. I lean down and press my cheek against his cobblestone abs. I linger just feeling the motion of his gut contracting and expanding with every breath.
I bring my hands down to his posers and slip them down, his dick pleasingly flops out already semi-hard. As he comes to full mast I realize it's larger than I remember. It didn't grow as much as everything else, but it's still impressive. A stiff golden rod setting itself out from his dark bronzed quads.
I wrap my lips briefly around just the tip before taking it in deep with a skill like I had done this hundreds of times before. I'm in ecstasy as I feel AJ fill me so completely, as I hear him moan with pleasure while I hit all the right spots, as I watch his quads twitch up close and personal with every suck. His movements and breaths become sharply staccato as I take him to climax.
AJ grunts with gorilla-like intensity as he rockets three hot, huge, loads down my throat. I stand up and wipe my lips as AJ comes back down to earth. Once he does, he chooses to finally break the silence with, "It's your turn now, bro." His voice booms deeper than I remember, the statement hitting me like a ton of bricks. He turns around and fully drops his posers, struggling briefly against his quad meat as he does.
My already erect member twitches even harder at the sight of his uncovered ass. Even more so when he leans forward and his massive cheeks split. I hastily drop my pants and am practically pulled in like a vortex. I place my soft hands on AJ's granite glutes before inserting my cock into his waiting hole. I'm glad I went in so deep with the tan earlier, it serving as rudimentary lube.
As I begin to thrust, I watch the dancing mountainous landscape of AJ's back in front of me. His ass is magnificent, so firm and tight. Every few strokes he squeezes his mighty glutes ever so little sending pleasure rocketing through me and also reminding me that he could crush my dick to smithereens in a single flex if he wanted to, this only serving to rile me even more. Regardless, it's clear who is in control in this moment, he wants this just as bad as I do.
I collapse forward onto AJ's back as I cum. We both stay in this position for a few seconds while we catch our breath. Standing back up, we make ourselves as decent as we can. AJ pulling his skimpy poser back into place and me pulling my pants back up and trying and failing to wipe the stripes of bronzer now all over my skin and clothes.
I laugh as I look up at AJ. "What?" he asks.
"Sorry, I wore a spot out on your tan, haha."
AJ chuckles to himself as he turns to face me. "Oh shit bro, but look at you" I'm practically covered in splotches of bronzer. "Honestly, doesn't look to bad on ya, have you ever considered bodybuilding?" AJ heartily boasts. We both chuckle with the silly question serving to encapsulate the wild ride we both have been on.
"Something tells me there's a lot more of this to come, but first… this tank bro" AJ slaps his bloated muscle gut, "she's gonna need a lot more than peanut butter to fill 'er up."
With that we head back out together in search of what I assume is an ungodly amount of food to fill up my hulking best friend… boyfriend? possibly.
We're a total mess, anyone looking at us would have no trouble putting together what we just did. We hold our heads high regardless, because who gives a fuck, like you wouldn't if you could. But you can't, so might as well flaunt what's mine. Besides in reality no one is giving me a second glance next to him.
---
In that first stroll together as an item out in the world, AJ and David find themselves in a place of pure joy and contentment, ecstatic about their budding new reality and relationship. Little did they know what was coming next.
Waiting innocently on their doorstep… another package… Wonder who it's addressed to?
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Text
Billy the Kid set (insta feed) || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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Summary: this is literally just a bunch of insta posts of you and Tom on set of Billy the kid also mixed with abit of Dad!Tom cause I couldn’t resist myself <33 THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE
Warnings: fem!reader noneee
Wc: 743
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divider by @pommecita
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by tomblyth, billythekidmgm, danielwebber, alexmroe and 6,037,158 others
Got dragged in to this 😐 fishing is not my forte.
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tomblyth: darling, you loved it.
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: did I though?
danielwebber: specifically loved the part where you tripped and landed on your ass in the water, very entertaining 👏👏
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: maybe if you guys had told me that we would be going fishing, I would’ve worn more appropriate foot attire 😃
alexmroe: a day I will never forget!
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: please do.
user24: I love this cast smmm
user947: who else is here from tbosas after finding out that these two are each other’s love interest once again 🙋‍♀️
↘️ user109: yup.
↘️ user13: MEEEE 🙋‍♀️
↘️ user005: I couldn’t get enough of them in tbosas so here I am 😂
user464: I love it when y/n posts bts content, she knows what we want.
user87: y/n feeding us more Tom content 🫡
~
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by tomblyth, joshandresrivera, billythekidmgm, horatio.james and 5,243,936 others
My fav look <33 (fun fact: the dress was hand painted 🥹)
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tomblyth: my gorgeous gorgeous girl 😍
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 🥰
user86: AHHHHHH HIS COMMENT
user150: ‘my gorgeous gorgeous girl’ he’s actually talking abt me hehehehe
user328: Dulcinea was serving looks the entire season, and that’s on periodt.
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 🤭 couldn’t agree more
↘️ user328: YOU RESPONDED AHHHH ILY
↘️ user25: FACTS
~
tomblyth
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Liked by y/n_y/l/n, nuriaavegaa, billythekidmgm, rachelzegler and 8,932,451 others
Past couple of weeks 🎬
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user672: oh to be y/n y/l/n 😫
siobhan: will miss u all!!!
↘️ tomblyth: it was nice knowing ya Mrs Riley 🤠
↘️ siobhan: wish I hadn’t gotten shot in the head by my dbag husband (all your fault @shaunmbenson)
user19: the last picture awhhhh @y/n_y/l/n
↘️ tomblyth: she’s actually a horse whisperer
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: I am 🤫
↘️ user19: NO WAY YOU BOTH REPLIED OMFG
user465: Billy the Kid makes me weak in the knees oml
user348: omw to rewatch BTK for the millionth time 🏃‍♀️
~
tomblyth
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Liked by rachelzegler, y/n_y/l/n, danielwebber, dakotadaulby and 10,397,262 others
Elsie when I first started filming s1 of BTK in 2021 and Elsie now during s2 🥹 Happy birthday my love <3 love you with all my heart!
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y/n_y/l/n: time flies 😭
↘️ tomblyth: our little girl isn’t so little anymore!
billythekidmgm: happy birthday Elsie! we LOVE seeing your happy face at set 💞
danielwebber: i remember holding her for the first time as a baby like it was yesterday 🥹
rachelzegler: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELS! I need to see you soon sweetheart 😭
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: she misses u and josh like crazy!!
user287: STOP MY HEART CANT WITH THIS
user932: Elsie is so freakin cute!!
user02: imagine being able to say Tom Blyth and Y/n Y/l/n are your parents…. nepo baby!
user461: the first picture of y/n and Elsie 😭 this post is too adorable!
~
alexmroe
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Liked by y/n_y/l/n, tomblyth, horatio.james, danielwebber and 1,937,261 others
Yeehaw 🤠
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y/n_y/l/n: i took the fifth pic 🙋‍♀️🤭
↘️ alexmroe: yes, yes, fifth pic creds goes to u
y/n_y/l/n: oml my tan in the last pic……
tomblyth: we’re so cute @y/n_y/l/n
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: we are aren’t we 🤭
↘️ user287: DAMN RIGHT. THE CUTEST COUPLE
↘️ user109: u guys r literally so wholesome i cant w it
user88: AWEEEE the last pic!!!
user163: excuse me- the third pic- DAMN TOM IS FINE
user847: I love seeing Tom in a cowboy hat 🫶
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: same.
~
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by tomblyth, siobhan, ashleyjliao, billythekidmgm, joshandresrivera and 9,789,252 others
life recently. Alberta, ily!
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ashleyjliao: 😍😍
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: Miss u bb x
joshandresrivera: 3rd pic 🤣
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: yk how he is with the cold 🥶
↘️ tomblyth: oh hush, I was being reasonable unlike you who was wearing a tank and shorts.
user63: Tom and Elsie 😭
user912: Y/n wearing Tom’s hat in the first pic 🤭
↘️ tomblyth: she steals it all the time
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: SHHHH
user108: why do I sometimes forget that Tom has a literal 4 year old daughter
user143: yessss keep feeding us Tom x Elsie content!!!!
user622: she’s hot, she has an even hotter boyf, a cute daughter, she’s rich, popular, an AMAZING actress, she’s literally winning at life 😫
user150: lol I wondered why their chemistry was so good in tbosas and btk. ITS CAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER IRL.
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Third Place Poll
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Propaganda...
Colonel Brandon (1995):
Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.
Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.
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Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.
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More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).
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The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.
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From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.
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The man has just heard her sing for a minute and he’s positively awestruck!
also adding his adorable adorable smile just bc i can.
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Mr Knightley (2009):
Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST
We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma
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I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma
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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.
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Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:
What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)
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Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.
And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.
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Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley��s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing
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I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!
Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.
no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!
He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.
Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!
A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!
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It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!
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a-writer · 3 months
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Dancing around - Azriel x reader
I'll never get over the fact that Nesta and Az danced together in Hewn City which means that it is canon that Az actually knows how to dance so... here goes nothing:) Also took some things from scenes in ACOSF and changed it up a bit!:) enjoy<3
Warnings: no actual smut but a lot of smutty talking and thoughts.
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"You don't have to do anything you don't wish to. But Elain mentioned that you have particular skill on the dance floor. Skill that once won you the hand of a duke in a single waltz." Rhys said as his eyes fixed upon Nesta.
Yes, sending her to dance with Eris was risky. But they didn't really have more options right now. Cassian wasn't looking too happy about that.
"Over my dead fucking body" He exploded. "Why can't (Y/N) do it?! She's a good fucking dancer, that's for sure."
"Thanks for the compliment, Cass." You smiled at him, his eyes full of hope for you to take his side. "But I'm with Rhys on this one. If I thought it was going to work I would do it, trust me... But Eris has known me for years, he knows I despise him. He's not going to buy the act and you know it. Plus, it will be fun to see Nesta toying with him." You gave her a wink while Cassian groaned.
"You want me to dance with Eris?" Nesta looked at you, but it was Rhys who answered.
"I want you to seduce him. Not into bed, but to make him realize what he might attain once he understands that we have no plans to break this alliance. To weigh the benefits more strongly than the risks."
"I'm sure you will do just fine, Nesta. I can show you all the dances so that you'll be prepared." You looked at her with bright eyes. Dancing lessons, always so fun.
"Nesta hasn't agreed to anything." Cassian snapped. "Even one dance with that prick is too much-"
"I'll do it." Nesta cut in, looking at you.
"Good" You smirked at her. "We start tomorrow."
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The Winter Solstice celebration was in full swing, people drinking and dancing to the beautiful music. With Rhysand and Feyre in the throne, you were sandwiched between Cassian and Azriel, the former glaring daggers at Eris' back while he danced with Nesta and the latter monitoring everything, his left wing resting lightly on your back.
"Fuck." Cassian growled. "I can't stand and watch this." He stormed off towards Mor, who was hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the throne.
"How long do you think will take them to realize?" A slow smile crept on your lips as you looked at Az.
"Realize what, Azriel?" Your innocent eyes met his cold stare. Everyone knew that they were mates. Everyone but Cassian and Nesta, apparently. And Eris, luckily.
"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." The sudden change of subject almost gave you whiplash. "As always."
His eyes roamed down your body, covered in a Night Court black dress that hugged every curve of your body. A small strip went around your neck and back, securing two pieces of fabric covering your breasts diagonally, forming a triangle that showed the tan skin of your torso, from the middle of your breasts until the top of your navel. A tight skirt was attached to it and your back was left exposed, your hair tied up in a tight ponytail that flowed down to the top of your ass. It seemed like time had stopped while Azriel's eyes covered your entire body. Finally returning to your face, his stare found your eyes and suddenly you felt a blush staining your cheeks.
"Uh..." You coughed, trying not to think too much about that stare. "Thanks, Az. You cleaned up nice, too." Winking at him, you turned to look straight once again.
Cleaning up nice wasn't enough to describe him. Az was... Az. His eyes, his body, his hair... All of him made you think the dirtiest thoughts ever. Like how his lips would feel against your skin, how having him look at you with that intensity in his eyes would feel while he was moving inside of you- Stop.
You needed to stop. You coughed again and felt Azriel looking at you again, a smirk covering his lips. Okey, maybe your smell had given away what your thoughts had been about, but he didn't know that you were thinking about him, did he?
Before you could overreact, he leaned towards you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You could feel goosebumps erupt all over your skin as he whispered. "Would you like to dance with me?"
You turned, your faces so close that your noses were almost touching, and you could see the amusement glinting in his eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, he lifted a hand in between your bodies and you took it, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"Sure, Az." Your voice was higher than you'd intended, but still you plastered a cool smile on your face and lead the way to the dance floor.
A new song began just as you were settling down in a circle of couples. You could spy a glint of red hair on your peripheral vision, and you knew that Eris and Nesta were still going. Good. She seemed like she was having fun, after all.
The music began and both of you bowed, presenting yourselves to one another. He offered one of his hands and you gladly took it, taking one step closer to him. His other hand snaked across your waist and settled on your back. It was cold compared to your burning skin, and you could feel a shiver running up your back. Trying to suppress it, you forced yourself to look up at Azriel, a small sigh leaving your lips.
He was handsome, beautiful. The kind of person who turned heads wherever he went. A small pang of jealousy filled your chest at that thought and you shoved it down. It was ridiculous. You and Az were nothing, even though your chemistry was something else, that was for sure.
Azriel began moving, leading both of you graciously across the dance floor.
"I'm always surprised to see how good of a dancer you are." You were looking at his shoulder, trying to calm down the raging fire burning your insides.
"You'll be surprised to know how good I am at many things, (Y/N)." You could feel his smile as he said the words, and it was clear that he was aware of your body. Of the goosebumps, of your galloping heart and of the sweet, imperceptible to everyone but him smell of your arousal.
You tilted your head back, looking him in the eye, and the color stained your cheeks as you already found him looking at you. And then you felt it too. His slightly dilated pupils, his tongue swipping on his bottom lip and... His smell. It was just a slight change, you wouldn't even have noticed it if it weren't for the way he was looking at you. But there it was. Something muskier, rougher. Darker.
"You could show me, you know." The words left your mouth before you could stop them.
You were always teasing Azriel, making jokes, giving him shit for always being so mysterious. But this felt different. It seemed like the whole room vanished and you were the only ones dancing around. His hand tightened on our back, bringing your body impossibly closer to him. You could feel his heart through your own chest, and a knowing smirk creeped over your face as you realized that it was beating as fast as yours. Azriel leaned once more, his mouth caressing your ear.
"I've been waiting to show you for a long, long time, (Y/N)." His voice was deeper, and you had a hard time suppressing a moan.
He moved away and you almost whined until you realized that the dance was over. You were about to grab his hand again and demand to know more about what he just said when Cassian appeared.
"Az, I need you to go dance with Nesta, please." He signaled with his head towards the throne. "Eris is talking with Rhys and I need to know what's going on."
"Sure, brother."
Cassian sprinted towards Mor once more and you were observing your High Lord and High Lady. Rhys wore a cool smile, just like Feyre, but you could sense the worry in her eyes. You didn't even see Azriel moving until the front of his body was flushed against your back, his hands possessively gripping your hips.
"Tonight is the night I'll show you everything that I'm good at." He lowered his head, pressing a quick kiss just below your ear. "And I'll show you everything I've been dying to do to you."
Your eyes almost rolled back into your head and you were about to become jelly in his hands, but you managed to turn around quickly, grabbing one of his hands before he could slip away.
"Make it a promise, Shadowsinger."
Azriel smiled and winked at you, before he went to find Nesta as the next dance began.
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