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illyrianbitch · 3 months

Text

And I'm Thinking About Your Lips

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: You and Cassian have been best friends since you were teenagers-- just friends. But one night at Rita's changes everything and now you cant breathe when you're around him and he can't stop imagining how you'd taste.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! like porn with plot aka: best friends to lovers, sexual tension, alcohol use, drunken handsy moments, two dummies in love, male masturbation, unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, sex sex sex! we love sex!!

Word Count: 19k (a biggie!)

a/n: heavily inspired by my fav song mistakes like this by prelow. give it a listen for the vibes ;) I was going to make this multiple parts but decided against it. lets imagine Rita's like a lil more modern club okay mwuah enjoy.

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Rita's was loud.

On busy nights like these, the place was a complete sensory overload– live music with thumping bass and swirling laughter. The air was thick with the mingling scents of sweat, perfume, and the occasional waft of arousal, a delicious smell that often lingered in Rita’s. You loved nights like these, loved the energy that came with finally being able to let go. You let out a content sigh as you watched people dance across the dimly lit club, enjoying the music that vibrated through their bones.

You stood next to Cassian at the bar, leaning against the smooth surface as you awaited the drinks you had ordered. He was in the middle of telling you a story-- or at least you think it was a story. You couldn't tell.

"What?" you exclaimed loudly, leaning forward in a futile attempt to decipher his response. Frustration etched across your face, you took a step back, gazing up at Cassian. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you shook your head while gesturing emphatically to your ears. "I can't hear," you mouthed, hoping he'd understand.

Cassian's initial confusion gave way to realization, his mouth forming a distinct "Ooooh." Leaning down, he bridged the distance between you, his lips hovering above your ear to deliver his words in a loud whisper.

And then it happened—a giggling drunk couple bumped into Cassian, disrupting his balance. His lips, which had initially hovered near your ears, now made a brief but intimate contact, running along the shell of your ear.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, the warmth permeating your entire body. Or perhaps it was the pulsating energy of the crowded dancefloor. Whatever it was, you felt it—a shiver tracing a path down your neck, following the curve of your spine. Awareness dawned on you—his proximity, his breath on your ears, the almost electric closeness of your cheeks, the way his disheveled hair framed his face.

He pulled away, a smile playing on his lips. He mouthed something, but you were lost in a daze, barely registering that those plump, red lips were actually forming words.

"Y/n?" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "You got that?"

Blinking, you shook your head, dispelling the lingering traces of your thoughts. A smile curved on your lips as you replied, "Yup."

You had no idea what he said, hadn't caught a word of what he was whispering in your ear. But at that moment, it didn't seem to matter. Internally, you chastised yourself— it's just the alcohol, that's all it is. After all, Cassian had always been attractive. You just happened to be drunk and noticed it a little bit more. Appreciating the beauty of your best friend, completely platonically.

The bartender returned with your ordered drinks, placing them on the bar with a lingering gaze that hinted at an appreciation for more than just the cocktail he had crafted—one directed entirely at you. Your attention, however, was occupied by the lively atmosphere around you as you spared the bartender a quick glance, grabbing your drink. Cass, on the other hand, picked up on the admiration, staring at the bartender and tucking away the information in the back of his mind.

As you both turned to leave, Cassian's movements synchronized with yours and his arm rubbed against your own, sending a subtle brush of warmth through you. You paused for a beat. The warmth was still there. You hated it. A realization dawned – you needed more alcohol.

With a silent determination, you gave Cassian a "one moment" gesture, holding up a finger. Cass watched as you turned back toward the bar, leaning forward to catch the bartender's attention. When he turned to face you, you placed your hand lightly over his.

"Actually," you said with a smile, “Can we get two extra shots? Of your strongest."

The bartender gave you a smile back and nodded in acknowledgment. In no time, two additional shots, robust and potent, joined the lineup, arranged neatly on the polished surface. Cassian frowned, flickering his gaze between you and the shots. You felt his presence as he leaned in and instinctively took a step back, not turning to look him in the eyes.

“We’re taking another round?”

“Nope.” You said, popping the p. Without hesitation, you downed them both with a practiced ease. Finally, you looked up at him, making a face as the liquor made its way down your throat. “Those were for me.” Your voice came out in a croak.

Cassian raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“Someone is getting hammered tonight."

You simply nodded, a nonchalant "mhmm" escaping your lips. The alcohol ignited a warmth that spread through your veins, momentarily overshadowing any reservations. With the edge taken off, you were ready to rejoin your friends– with the exception of Amren, who was “too busy” to join tonight.

Cassian led the way back to the booth, his hand finding its familiar place at the small of your back. Cass always did this when at Ritas, a gesture to ensure that you weren’t swept away by the sea of people. Yet, this time, it felt different. As he guided you through the lively crowd, you couldn't ignore the heat that radiated from his touch. Your heart quickened its pace. Its the alcohol-induced haze, you told yourself. Thats all.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Two hours later, Rita’s was still pulsating with energy and you were absolutely wasted. The vibrant atmosphere seemed to blend seamlessly with the warmth of your intoxication and everything around you seemed to echo with life.

You, Mor, and Feyre slowly returned to the booth for a much-needed break, hands interlaced with one another and glasses still full, waiting to be enjoyed. In your inebriated state, you teetered back and forth as you made your way to the booth, plopping down next to your best friend.

At your arrival, Cassian sat up right, waiting for you to do what you always did—lay your head on his shoulder. And, like clockwork, you fell into place, your head finding its familiar spot on Cassian's shoulder.

"Look who decided to join the land of the living," Cassian teased as he nudged you gently. You felt him adjust his seating, his wings moving to accommodate your presence. The booths at Rita’s were large, the seats extra wide and spacious— for many reasons. You didn’t think too long about the ways people used the extra space.

Instead, you chuckled at Cassian’s comment, the alcohol-infused haze making everything seem delightfully amusing. "Jus' exploring alternate universes on the danceflooooooor."

The sound of your voice and the way you dragged out your words set Cassian into a small fit of laughter, a rich melody that blended with the music. The sound vibrated through his body and you felt his chest and his shoulders rise with it. The laughter resonated in your own as a result.

"Alternate universes, huh?” He asked, “That why you were grinding on Mor like a horned-up teenager?"

Craning your head slightly to look up at him, you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. He was already looking at you, his face tilted to the side to meet your eyes. There was a clear sense of amusement written into his face, the corners of his mouth turned up, a certain glow in his eyes.

"I was not! How dare you judge me?" With a determined glint in your, now narrowed, eyes you added, "I never judge how you practically dry hump every woman you dance with."

Your best friend's lips curled into a grin, and his eyebrows lifted for a moment. There was a playful roll of his lips before he nodded, slightly chuckling. You got him there.

"Okay, whatever."

You watched as he took a sip of his drink with his other hand, then lowered it to rest the glass on his knee. Leaning back a bit, a small giggle escaped your lips at nothing in particular. Then, you let out a laugh.

"You're wasted." Cassian stated matter of factly, turning his head to look at where yours lay on his shoulder. Your laughter continued for a moment, ending with a sound of content.

"Maybe." You replied as you leaned back a little, your head lolling backwards. Your eyes, framed by thick lashes, found Cassian's. You looked at him for a moment, taking in his face, his intense gaze focused on you.

"You're real attractive, Cass," you murmured, the words carrying a sincerity that caught him off guard.

Cassian didn't know why his heart leaped at your words. This wasn't something new. You had complimented him multiple times before. He knew he was attractive-- he knew you knew he was attractive. But there was something different this time, something in the way you bit your lip, gnawing at it with your teeth, the genuine look in your eyes.

"You think so?" he said. You wondered how his voice could be so soft, yet so husky. How was that possible?

You nodded lazily, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Mhm," you affirmed.

Cassian's gaze shifted, and suddenly he found himself studying your face. Your head tilted back, he took in the sight of your lips, the stunning makeup enhancing your features. You were gorgeous, he’d always known this-- everyone who saw you thought the same. But you were best friends, and the strength of your bond lessened the urge to explore thoughts of you that went farther than simple observation.

"You're not too bad yourself."

You perked up a bit.

"Yeah?" you asked eagerly.

Cassian gave a chuckle at your enthusiastic reply, noticing the way your eyes lit up behind their drunken haze. But before he could say anything more, Mor appeared, her hands outstretched, ready to pull you back onto the dancefloor.

"Y/n," She said, "Come danceeeee."

You looked up at her, your body slowly moving up right.

"But Cass and I-"

Mor whined.

"Feyre abandoned me for Rhys and Azriel is too busy being a gargoyle."

You snickered at her words, your gaze drifting over to where the Shadowsinger sat across the booth, a small grin on his mouth as he brought his cup to his lips. Then, you looked towards the dance floor, a sea of moving bodies with each person lost in the rhythm of the music. Sure enough, your gaze settled on Feyre and Rhysand, deeply entwined as they danced against one another, their bodies swaying together.

You returned your gaze to Mor, with her outstretched hands and a pouty face. You grinned, and she let out a small shriek of excitement at your wordless answer.

You placed a hand on Cassian's thigh, giving a small pat as you forced yourself up, the other hand in Mor's grasp. Cass held his hands up to stabilize you.

You turned to face him, your body slightly swaying.

"See ya later, Commander."

You gave him a drunken salute, the gesture slow and sloppy, before Mor whisked you away to the dance floor.

Cassian watched your figure as you retreated to the dance floor, unable to look away. He could still feel the lingering warmth on his thigh from where your hand had rested, as if an imprint of your touch had been left behind– he half-expected to undo his pants and find a charred handprint, a mirror image of yours. Your delicate hands, your soft skin, your slender fingers..... the thought sent a jolt of desire through him.

Stop it. Cassian's brain scolded him.

But still, his gaze drifted to where you were lost in the lively throng of bodies. The live music pulsed around you, guiding your movements as you moved with your usual demeanor of grace. The way you swayed to the rhythm, the fluidity of your gestures, it was mesmerizing. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to dance with you the way you were on Mor, without the barriers of friendship. To feel your body pressed against his, to lose himself in the rhythm and the heat that seemed to radiate from both of you.

His eyes trailed your body, taking in every curve and movement, and suddenly, he began to notice the way other males and females were doing the same.

He felt a growing anger stir within him, an emotion he had never felt before, not when it came to you. It was a possessive rage, a primal instinct that told him he needed to protect you from these observers. The bodies around you, their gazes lingering on your body, only fueled the fire within him. They shouldn't be looking at you like that. They weren't worth your time--- weren't worthy of being able to admire you the way they were. He should do some-

His musings were abruptly interrupted by a chuckle from Azriel.

The sound jolted Cassian back to the present, and he turned to find his brother looking at him with an amused expression. Annoyance crept into Cassian's features as he asked,

"What?"

Az's amusement deepened, and he replied nonchalantly, "Nothing."

Although Azriel's response seemed innocent, there was a knowing glint in his eyes, a small smirk that he covered by bringing his cup to his lips. Cass was well aware that Az was hinting at something, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to care. All he could focus on was the uncomfortable heat in his stomach, feeling as if he was suffering from intense heartburn. But funnily enough, the feeling only grew heavier when he looked at you.

Azriel down his drink before grabbing Cassian’s attention.

"Let's get you another drink."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The night had surrendered to the early hours of the morning, casting a dreamlike glow over the city as you and your friends stumbled out of the vibrant chaos that was Rita's. The streets, now filled with the remnants of the night's revelry, echoed with the laughter and inebriated chatter of others who were also bidding farewell to a night spent well.

You walked alongside Cas and Mor, Feyre and Rhysand a few steps ahead. Azriel had left an hour prior; a smug expression adorned his face as he escorted a striking male with brown hair and green eyes-- the very one who had generously bought him drinks throughout the night.

You looked at the mated pair ahead of you, Rhysand's arm draped casually around Feyre’s shoulder. You watched as he leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Feyre suddenly stilled and turned around, an evident blush lingering on her cheeks. Rhysand looked at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, then he turned his gaze toward your group, mirthful mischief etched across his face.

"We're not feeling that well, so we're going to go sleep." Rhysand declared, his words dripping with a level of unseriousness that made you want to laugh. But, not even Rhys could take himself seriously, the corners of his mouth soon turning up to form a pearly-white grin.

Feyre playfully slapped his chest, but the grin on Rhysand’s face grew even wider, brightened by a child-like glee. With a final shared glance, the mated pair left. You smiled to yourself, thinking about how evident the couple’s love was and how much it made you want something similar.

Before you knew it, only you and Cassian were left. Mor, who had been walking side by side with you both, had halted abruptly. A smile played on her lips. "I've got somewhere I want to go," she announced cryptically, winking before disappearing.

The intoxication in your veins rendered winnowing out of the question – too drunk to focus, and Cassian couldn't fly without risking an aerial mishap that involved either vomit or an unexpected plummet. Both options were less than ideal, so you both continued walking, the cool night air beginning to clear the remnants of your alcohol-induced hazes.

Cassian watched as you moved with a certain lightness, the effects of the drinks still lingering in your movements. Suddenly, you spun around, catching him off guard. His hands flew out instinctively, prepared to catch you if you lost your balance, but you paid no attention to the movement. Instead, you looked up at him with a small frown.

"Hey," you began, your words still slightly slurred. "How come everyone's getting some tonight, and here we are, feeling left out?"

He watched you for a moment, your stature, your slow blinks, how intensely you were staring at him. Cassian grinned. His eyes, veiled by a layer of playful charm, fixated on yours.

"Well, I'm right here,” He declared, “Say the word, and I'm all yours, allll night long.”

Cassain ensured that his words were delivered with a teasing tone, a tone he prayed masked the underlying desire he felt. You didn’t notice. All you could focus on was the burning in your chest, the way your heart tugged at his response. This was nothing out of the usual, Cassian flirted with you all the time. Cassian flirted with everyone.

So you let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet night.

"Oh, please. You're such a pig," you retorted playfully, adding a mockingly dramatic eye roll. Then you swallowed, forcing your next words out. "Never. Could you imagine?”

You didn’t want to see his face as he answered the question, too worried that it would hurt you in some way if he reacted appalled and disgusted. So, you turned yourself around and began walking again, focusing on the cobblestone road underneath your feet, at the cold air starting to bite at you.

There was a quiet pause, and then you heard the small laughter of your best friend. He wouldn’t tell you where his mind wandered, now, when he thought of you, wouldn’t acknowledge the hurt that nestled itself quietly in the recesses of his thoughts.

“No. I couldn’t.”

Another pause. Despite being out in the open, breathing in the fresh night air, you began to feel stuffy. A sense of discomfort wrapped itself around you.

"How come you didn't go home with anyone?" You asked. You gnawed at your lip, waiting for his response, observing his reaction from the corner of your eye.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. He stopped to look at you, and you stilled, turning slightly to face him. When he gave you no response, you let out a small sigh.

"Y’know, like that one redhead giving you eyes back at the bar."

You did your best to disguise the subtle irritation lingered in your tone, but beneath it, you felt a sense of bubbling jealousy. How was Cass so unaware? How come you were so aware?

Cassian's eyes widened slightly as he scrambled to recall the moment. Panic briefly flickered in his eyes as he realized he hadn't even noticed anyone else, his attention consumed by you. “Ohhh, her?” He finally responded, “Nah, tonight was just about hanging out with all of you. Y’know, family time.”

You felt a smile tugging at your cheeks. Family time didn’t stop Azriel, or Feyre and Rhysand. In your gut, you knew that it hadn’t stopped Mor either, the look on her face as she left screamed of a sudden lustful advance. Cassian’s answer deeply satisfied a part of you, for reasons you couldn't decipher at the moment. Your smile widened when he gave you a fond smile of his own.

“Big ole’ sap.” You teased, affectionately nudging him with your shoulder.

You fell into another comfortable rhythm, walking alongside each other in silence as the echoes of night behind you slowly faded. Cassian could hear you humming faintly to yourself and a warmth filled his chest. You often hummed when you walked. When you were drunk, it was always a guarantee. Cass used to use it as a meter for your sobriety, detecting how drunk you were based on how horrible your humming was. Currently, it sounded angelic. But he wasn’t sure if he could trust his own judgment, not now, not when it came to you. Even as you walked side-by-side, he felt the urge to get you closer, made the effort to ensure your hands swung next to one another— that you bumped into his bicep every now and then as you walked. What was wrong with him? And why did you smell so good?

Cass cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly to look at you.

“So, uh, speaking of people, why didn’t you go home with the bartender?”

You stopped abruptly, caught off guard by question. Cassian, too, halted in his tracks, a subtle maneuver to avoid colliding with your shoulder. Turning to face him, your eyes sought his in the dim light. "The bartender?" Confusion furrowed your brow.

His gaze, laden with an unspoken curiosity, met yours. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

You paused, your thoughts weaving through the blurred memories of the night. Every image was muddled in your mind, a fusion of moving bodies and your hands picking up new drinks. God, how many did you take? You couldn’t remember. Your memory was hazy, unfocussed. There was only one thing in your mind that shone in perfect clarity– only one person. And it wasn’t the bartender.

“Guess I didn’t.” You shrugged.

Cassian thought back to the bartender, a handsome male with short brown hair and blue eyes. The way he had stared at you, the way he had smiled. Cass’s mind found the memory of you reaching over the bar, your hand over the bartender’s, leaning in to request another drink. A flash of your smile. He fought the urge to make a face.

"Yup,” He said, “Gave you eyes the entire night. Half surprised they didn't fall out and follow you home."

He didn’t intend to sound bitter, didn’t mean for it to drip from the words he spoke. He couldn’t help it. But, by the look on your face, you hadn’t noticed. Yet again. Cassian let out a breath. It took a moment for his words to settle into your mind, and then you let out a snicker at the image painted by them. He grinned at the sound.

"Well then, I'm really surprised I didn't notice."

And you were. You were usually good at these things, at recognizing advances. You picked up on lingering gazes and touches that were one second too long. If Cassian was referring to the bartender you were thinking of, then he had been very attractive. On another night, you would have definitely noticed— and definitely taken the opportunity. But not tonight. Tonight was different, felt different.

"Can't blame him," Cassian remarked, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "You are beautiful."

You blinked, your mouth parting slightly in shock. The words sent a flutter to your chest, and you could feel heat on your cheeks. You shook it off, letting out a sound of amusement and disbelief. It came out as a quiet snort. "Shut up."

"Not even mentioning all the males and females that were ogling you while you danced with Mor."

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You were sure that the blush on your cheeks was on full display and only hoped that Cassian would assume it was caused by the chilly night air. You couldn't look at him. Instead, you shook your head, your eyes looking into the distance. Then, you rolled them and scoffed. "Oh, please. Now you’re just lying.”

You felt his eyes on you, still. You slowly moved your head to look at him once more, watching as his expression subtly shifted.

"No, seriously. It's like some couldn't keep their eyes off you."

Cassian's gaze still lingered on you, unexpectedly soft and genuine. His features bathed in a tender glow, a small smile on his lips. His disheveled hair, tousled by the night's breeze, framed his face in a way that made you itch to rake your fingers through. For a moment, time seemed to pause as you stared at your best friend, your eyes tracing the contours of his shoulders and the majestic wings that adorned his back.

You found yourself taking him in for a minute too long, staring like he wasn’t right in front of you. The realization creeped up on you and you quickly looked away, finding somewhere, anywhere other than his gaze, to focus on.

"Well, whatever," You muttered, turning yourself around to continue walking forward. You heard Cassian’s steps pick up behind you. “I’m over being casual. I’m tired of being with lame males who never make me finish, males who are so boring and entitled, males that are so stupid I begin to question my life decisions. All of it.”

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing as he tried to process what you had offhandedly mentioned. "Wait, what?" he said, his voice filled with confusion. "No one has ever made you finish?"

You weren’t paying full attention to what Cassian was saying, too caught up in your own thoughts and monologue about your new aversion to casual hookups. You waved him off, continuing to walk forward.

Cassian's mind raced with thoughts of you and the males you had been with. He pictured you together, each of them trying their best to please you, their faces contorted with effort, their bodies moving in a frenzy. He pictured some outright ignoring your experience, jackknifing again and again, rutting into you like wild animals. But in his mind's eye, you remained distant, your face bored and vacant, making noises for show.

He wanted to growl. He could do better, could give you the pleasure and satisfaction that those males had failed to provide. The thought was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with you, to make you feel the way you deserved. Had they truly not taken the time to worship you? To explore your body, pray to it like it was sacred?

His mind painted a picture of you together, your bodies entwined, a room filled with the smell of sex. He saw himself looking into your eyes, his focus on your pleasure. You moaning underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering his name. Cassian. Cassian. The image was intoxicating— he felt a stirring in his cock, a longing that settled heavy in his stomach.

But it was short lived. Quickly, a sense of guilt washed through him, flooding through his veins. Here you were, talking about your life and feelings, and he was imagining you naked, underneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be thinking of this. He should be listening to you, his best friend, and giving you advice. He aggressively shoved his thoughts away, putting a lock on the visions of you that were manifesting in his mind. With a deep breath, he told his deteriorating self-discipline that he could think of those beautiful images later, when it was just him and his hand in the solace of his room.

He found himself grateful that you were walking ahead of him, that the night air provided a distraction, a physical discomfort that could dampen his desires. It was cold out now, the breeze seemingly more nippy. It sobered him up, ridding the effects of the alcohol in his veins and his drunken feelings of lust.

It was cold out. His eyes snapped up to you walking ahead of him, rubbing your arms absentmindedly. You were cold. How had he not realized?

Because you’re a horny prick who can’t seem to remember your place in her life. His mind screamed at him. He knew it was right.

"I just want to find someone who can connect with me on a deeper level. Someone who sees me.” You said with a defeated sigh. You stopped for a minute, looking back as Cassian caught up to you, the war general having fallen behind, distracted by his own thoughts.

Finally reaching you, he gave you a look that you’d never seen before, and you slightly frowned from being unable to read him. But soon, his face softened, and he put his hand on your arm. The touch was tender, despite his large, rough hands, and it sent a warmth throughout your body that combated the cool air.

"Y'know, you could get anyone you wanted."

His voice, sincere and quiet, took the breath out of your lungs.

Well, not anyone. The thought flitted through your mind. You ignored it.

He smiled at you, a warmth in his gaze that set your heart on fire. “Lets get you home.”

Cassian draped his arm around you, his hand rubbing your biceps as you instinctively leaned into the comforting gesture. When his wings flared out and curled around you both, you felt the flutter in your chest again, a faint warm glow. This time, you let it sit.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian's ability to fly gradually returned with the waning effects of the alcohol, and the rest of the way home had been filled with comfortable silence. You felt the familiar comfort of home envelop you the minute you stepped foot inside, and your room called to you, to your aching body and pounding headache.

As soon as you entered, you didn't waste a moment – walking straight to your bed and simply falling face flat, a groan escaping from your lips. You could feel the throbbing in your head, every movement causing a reaction in both your scalp and deep in your stomach, where a growing sense of nausea was brewing.

"You're gonna be in pain in the morning." Cassian remarked with a chuckle, watching your less-than-graceful landing.

You groaned again, the sound muffled by your sheets. A moment passed, and you heard the sound of Cassian removing his shoes, soon followed by a dip in the bed as he settled in and made himself comfortable. He sighed.

"Gods. Your bed is so damn comfortable."

You lifted your head to look at him, his head leaning on your headboard as he breathed softly. He looked so peaceful, no tension in his face or his body, his eyes closed with the ghost of a content smile on his lips.

“You can sleep here tonight,” You said, “If you’d like.”

The offer felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, and you felt vulnerable for proposing the idea. Sure, you and Cassian had slept in the same bed together before, but never when you were attracted to him, turned on by his lips touching your ear. Maybe it was a bad idea. You should send him on his way before he gets too comfortable... right?

Cassian's eyes opened, finding your own. "Really?"

Good ideas be damned.

You nodded. "Just don't hog the bed."

You watched as he smiled and settled himself in further, still clad in his button up and trousers. The pounding in your head had slowly calmed to a dull ache, a momentary relief that you knew was bound to end soon. Taking advantage of it, you made a move to push yourself up and get ready for bed, bracing yourself on your forearms. A wave of nausea ran through you again, and your mind began to conjure up images of every drink you had tonight. You groaned.

“Y/n?”

You let out a deep breath. “Yes?”

Cassian could hear the discomfort in your voice, and he sat up straighter, looking at where you lay at the edge of your bed, your head hanging, slightly tilted downwards towards your bed as your forehead resting on your hands.

“Whats going on?” He said, moving closer to you on the bed. You could feel his body next to your head, his thighs rubbing against your forearms.

“Lots of drinks.” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut. “Too many.”

Cass gave a small chuckle, his hand moving to rest on your head. You felt him run his hand through your hair, felt it settle near your neck, right by your shoulders. He moved it in circular motions.

“Let me help you.” His voice was calm and gentle. For a second, you wondered how he was perfectly fine, but then you remembered how well he could hold his alcohol and how quickly he could sober up, if needed. You felt grateful for the latter as you nodded against your hands.

Cassian stood up and slowly wrapped his arm around your back, settling his hand on your shoulder. Then, with the other, he gently took a hold of your forearm, guiding you up from your hunched position.

You didn’t think much as you let Cass guide you, you could feel him next to you, his arms stabilizing you as he helped you maneuver over to the other side of your bed. The whole world felt like it was moving too fast, as if you were the only thing in slow motion. You simultaneously cursed yourself for tonight while wishing you could teleport to four hours ago when you were wasted and the world was perfect.

“You think you can get out of your dress?” He asked you, as he helped you sit down on your bed.

You nodded, looking up at him with a faint smile. “Yeah. Can you…”

Cassian turned to the armoire your outstretched finger pointed to. He nodded. You closed your eyes for a minute, taking another deep breath as you heard him open a drawer and then close it.

“Here.” His voice was still as smooth as before, calm and gentle. It sent a shiver through your body, and you found your heartbeat quickening. Not now, you scolded yourself, you’re on the verge of vomiting. You needed to get a grip. You grabbed the soft nightgown from his hand and Cassian quickly turned around, giving you some privacy.

Your dress was easy to peel off, the small straps sliding off your shoulders with no resistance. You felt the cool air bite at your exposed chest, and quickly pulled the night stress over your head. Then, you carefully stood up, allowing your dress to slide down your legs, and your nightgown to fall properly on your body.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked at Cassian, his back facing to you, his beautiful wings flared out comfortably. A part of you felt so vulnerable with him now, with the way he was touching you, how you had looked at him tonight. Cassian always helped you when you were drunk, it was nothing new, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you,” You said, looking at Cass as he turned back around. He couldn’t help as his eyes surveyed your body, and he gave you a small grin.

“Oh, how cute.”

You gave him a small glare, smacking his chest with your hand. And then you slowly crawled into your bed, taking note of how Cassian’s hand hovered over your back until you were settled. He grabbed your covers for you, placing them on you.

“I feel like I’m taking care of a child.” He joked, and you let out a little scoff. He only laughed at your response.

“Just take off your clothes and come sleep before I kick you out.”

You could see the restraint in his face as he stifled his laughter. You could already hear it, a joke about you wanting him naked, a tease about taking him to dinner first. But, instead, Cassian let out a quiet laugh. “Okay.”

You burrowed yourself into your bed, closing your eyes and embracing the warmth of the covers, how nice the soft mattress felt on your aching body. Behind you, you heard the sound of pants and a belt falling to the ground, and within seconds, there was a dip in the bed. Cassian’s smell filled your nose and you welcomed it in, a scent that reminded you of peaceful nights and crackling fires.

“Cass?” You said, slowly turning yourself over to face him. You felt him shift, getting comfortable into the bed, and then he was turning to face you as well.

“Yeah?” He whispered, his voice low.

“Thank you.”

You closed your eyes, your nose still filled with the smell of your best friend, his heat radiating onto your skin. You were out within seconds.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The air was charged with the metallic tang of sweat and the rhythmic sounds of swords clashing. It was a sight to behold, truly. Azriel and Cassian were both incredibly skilled in combat and their sparring matches were always your favorite to watch. Not only was it beautiful to see, with their fluid motions and strong forms, but it helped you pick up on things you wanted to practice yourself— and any weaknesses you could exploit when you practiced with them. Today, you observed Cassian with a focused intensity as he moved gracefully through his training routine, each motion deliberate and powerful. You found yourself unable to look away, suddenly feeling drymouthed and distracted, swallowing hard. You brought your hand to your mouth, your thumb wiping at your lip as you watched.

Were you attracted to Cassian?

No. The sudden heat you were feeling was due to the heavy sun above you, the strong rays hitting you and your slight dehydration. It had nothing to do with the sweaty, built, and beautiful body of your best friend. It definitely wasn’t the way his muscles rippled as he moved, or the way his sweat lined his abs…

"Enjoying the show, babe?"

You let out a small gasp in surprise, turning your head to the side as Mor approached you, a grin on her red-painted lips.

“You scared the fuck out of me.” You said, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm the quickened beating of your heart.

“I’ve never been able to catch you so off guard,” She mused. “Guess they’re real entertaining today, huh?”

You pursed your lips and looked back over to the two males sparring. They took a step back from one another, taking a momentary break to catch their breaths. Cassian looked over at you, his half-bun had unraveled during the intense training session, with strands of his tousled hair clinging to his forehead, glistening with sweat.

As he caught your gaze, Cassian grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, he gestured toward Azriel, attempting to convey his strategy for the upcoming sparring match. You felt a smile pull at your cheeks as Cassian switched between hovering his hands around his neck to mimic an action of strangulation, and gesturing towards Azriel. Az stood unamused, wiping his forehead with his wrist before taking a large sip of water.

Beside you, Mor observed the scene with a raised eyebrow, a hint of suspicion crossing her features. Her gaze flickered between you and Cassian, and a look of realization slowly went through her face. She turned towards you with a slight gasp, smacking your bicep playfully.

"Y/n! Did you two…?"

You turned your head fast to look at her at a speed so fast that you swore you gave yourself whiplash. You looked at her with narrow eyes. “Did we what?”

Mor's grin widened as she leaned in conspiratorially. "Did you and Cassian have a little training of your own, off the sparring mat?" She teased with a wink.

You scoffed, waving her off with a gesture of your hand. You could feel a blush on your cheeks and you prayed that Mor didn’t notice— or if she did, that she attributed it to the sweltering heat.

"No, Mor! We didn't.” You responded, then you made a face of disgust. “We’re talking about Cassian. I could never.”

Mor raised an eyebrow playfully. "Are you sure about that? Because, darling, you've been staring at him like he's a piece of prime meat, and you're a starved vegetarian about to crumble."

Your cheeks burned brighter.

“Such a beautiful image, Mor, thank you for that,” You murmured, rolling your eyes before looking at her. “But that is not what I was doing. I was just… watching his technique. That's all."

Mor's laughter rang through the air as she nudged you. "Sureeee. Whatever you say. But you might want to consider admitting it to yourself before the starved vegetarian inside you takes over completely."

Flustered and unsure of how to respond, you excused yourself with a mumbled, "I don't know what you're talking about," before hastily leaving the training arena, leaving Mor's laughter echoing behind you as she followed.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You and Cass hadn’t had time together within the past week and a half. You were busy running off with Mor and Feyre, and when you weren’t with them, Amren took your attention. Cassian himself had been busy, too, but he couldn’t focus recently, not as well as usual. The last time he’d been able to properly see you, as you observed him and Azriel training, you left before he had a chance to talk to you. You hadn’t felt Cassian's eyes follow you as you left, didn’t notice the way he traced your figure. His gaze had stayed trained on you until you were out of his line of sight, and only then had he felt the presence of Az behind him. But he was too slow, and the Shadowsinger quickly disarmed him, flipping him onto his back with a loud thud.

Cassian had let out a groan followed by a string of obscenities aimed at his brother, who quickly made a comment about him being too distracted. Azriel was right. He was too distracted. His mind was completely and utterly obsessed with you.

In fact, Cassian felt like a mad man. There was a deep ache that had settled in his chest, one that weaved itself through his ribs. He’d never felt so starved, so hungry. But his delusions, the dreams he’d been having, the fantasies that manifested in his brain, they weren’t sweet enough to satiate his hunger anymore. What he wanted was you. And he couldn’t stop picturing it, couldn't stop indulging in his thoughts. Not since that night at Rita’s.

He’d fallen asleep with you after he’d helped you get into bed, closed his eyes after you thanked him. It was the best sleep he’d gotten in months, made even better when he woke up perfectly rested, rolling over in your comfortable bed to see you. He won’t admit how long he was staring at you, at your sleeping form, your hair fanned out across your pillow. Even with your makeup slightly smeared– a fact that made him feel guilty that he had forgotten to help you wash it off– you were breathtaking. He wondered why he never really noticed it this much before.

Cassian tried his best tonight, laying in his bed after the long day. Restless, he tossed and turned. At one point he considered getting ready and flying somewhere, going to train and practice, or finding some beautiful female to replace the thoughts he had of you. Both options sounded nauseating. So, instead, he pulled himself out of bed and slowly walked around, letting out a yawn and rubbing at his eyes. The hallways were quiet, illuminated by the moon in the night sky.

When he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks, his heart quickly jumping. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the low lighting, and then readily took in the sight in front of him.

There you were, a vision of beauty, leaning gracefully into the fridge. The top part of your body concealed by the door, leaving Cassian with a tantalizing view of your legs. The silk set you wore clung to you in all the right places, the fabric catching the subtle glow of flickering faelight, accentuating the curves that commanded his attention.

Fuck. He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare for him in his current state.

As he stood there, silently observing, you straightened up. Your hands, adorned with an elegant grace, held onto something within the fridge as you turned to close it. You turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. A wave of warmth washed over Cassian.

"Cass?" Your voice was quiet, the surprise in your eyes quickly replaced by recognition. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You stood tall, a small plate of mixed berries in your hand. He wasn’t surprised, though, you always had such strange midnight cravings. Still slack-jawed and captivated, Cassian tried to find the words to break the silence. He watched as your face softened and your brows pulled together. “Cant sleep?” You asked.

He blinked. And then shook his head. “Nope.” He finally replied.

You smiled, a warm and inviting expression that made Cassian's heart skip a beat, and made a motion with your head to call him closer to you. You pulled yourself onto the counter, swinging your feet as they hung. Cassian settled next to you, leaning against the counter. The cold slight touch of the cold surface on his bare back sent a chill through his body. His wings nestled comfortably behind him.

Cassian watched you as you hummed quietly, bringing the berries to your mouth. He watched the way your lips wrapped around them, the way your throat moved as you swallowed. His thoughts went straight to his cock, feeling a stirring that had him fighting to maintain his composure.

Get it together. His mind echoed. He sorted through his thoughts, then he looked up at you. “I’ve missed you this week.” He confessed.

You paused, bringing a strawberry away from your lips. Turning to look at him, you gave him a dimpled smile. "Well, you didn’t have to wait until the dead of the night to find me,” You responded. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Cassian mirrored your smile and then let out a deep breath. Despite fighting back his intrusive thoughts about you not even minutes ago, his heart was steady and calm. He could feel a sense of relief wash through his body as he stood next to you, watching you eat. The silence was comfortable— your presence was comfortable. Something warm, something familiar, something that felt like home.

“Want one?” You offered, holding your plate towards him. He glanced at you, then at the plate, and then at you again. His eyebrow raised.

“C’monnnn,” You said, your voice light and amused, “Every healthy male needs to eat his fruits and vegetables.”

Cassian let out a chuckle. “At three in the morning?”

You shrugged casually. “I don’t think the time matters.” You popped a blueberry in your mouth, looking at him. Then you picked one up from the plate, reaching your hand out to his face, the fruit hovering in front of his lips. “They’re nice and fresh and cold.”

He couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were looking at him like that.

With a reluctant smile, Cassian moved to take it from your outstretched hand, but you intervened, a softness in your eyes. "Allow me," you said. He responded with a subtle nod. Holding the berry delicately between your fingers, you brought it to his mouth. For a second, your finger brushed against his lips, a small fleeting touch, the ghost of a sensation. An unexpected surge of electricity coursed through him, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake as it moved throughout his body.

His gaze locked onto yours, your attentive eyes and your mouth slightly parted. Like many other things, you’d done this before, had given Cassian food straight to his mouth. But in the stillness of the night, with the glow on your soft skin and your silk set, Cass struggled to breathe.

A slight grin played on your lips as Cassian, still entranced, tasted the berry you had fed him. He chewed slowly, deliberately, and then swallowed. "See?" you said in a soft, teasing tone, “And it probably tasted better with me feeding you it like some God. You’re welcome.”

Cassian, still under the spell of your touch, let out a small breath. "You're always right, aren't you?"

You met his gaze, a quiet confidence in your eyes. "It's part of my charm," you replied, the words carrying a hint of playfulness. He watched as you returned your attention to your plate, finishing the last of the berries that adorned it. You looked over at him. "It's getting late," you said, dropping down from the counter. "I should probably get some sleep."

As you stood up and stretched, Cassian's eyes followed the movement, taking in the curve of your ass as you arched your back. Your silk set rode up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your stomach. He felt a surge of desire that made him both embarrassed and excited, like he was a 16 year old again, ready to fuck anything near him. Cassian allowed his eyes to wander back up, taking in the sight of your chest, the way the silk set clung to your breasts, the subtle rise and fall of your breaths. He felt his mouth water.

You rolled your shoulders, turning to look at him with a subtle furrow in your brow.

“You okay?”

Cassian cleared his throat, shaking off his thoughts. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that there was a blush rising to his cheeks, a heat he was suddenly aware of on his face.

“Yeah,” He responded, his voice huskier than intended, “Just tired.”

You shot Cassian a mildly unconvinced look with a subtle raise of your eyebrows, but gave him a half-smile, anyways. “Get some rest, Cass,” You said softly, “See you tomorrow.”

Cassian stayed still, eerily still, as he watched you walk away, watched your legs move and the way the fabric of your clothes rippled as you walked. When you were out of eyesight, he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Then he titled his head and let out a groan at the ceiling. He took a minute to compose himself, to attempt to regulate the blood in his body– blood that was moving straight to the heat collecting like a pool in his chest. Rubbing his hands along his face, Cassian slowly headed for his room. The quiet of the night that once soothed him now felt like a void, one that yearned for your voice again, for you.

By the time he made it to his room, Cassian’s mind was filled with images of you– of the silk material sliding across your skin, of the way your lips wrapped around the berries, of him bending you over the counter. Gods. Feeling the strain of his desire, Cassian reached down and started to stroke himself through his pants, the loose and thin material of his sweatpants doing little to buffer the friction from his palms. He felt a deep groan leave his mouth at the image of you in front of him, kneeling with your eyes wide and hungry, your lips parted, ready for him.

He slid his hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of his cock. He pulled his pants and briefs down his legs, letting his throbbing length fall against his stomach as wrapped his hands around himself. Cassian worked himself in smooth strokes, swallowing every time his thumb grazed the head of his cock. He let his mouth fall open as he imagined you, imagined your body moving beneath him, your eyes locked on him as he took you.

Closing his eyes, Cassian thought of the sound of your moans, fantasizing about how your breath would quicken, how your body would tremble with pleasure as he satisfied your desires. His hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the images in his mind grew more detailed— every sound you’ve emitted to him before, every laugh, every grunt as you trained, every soft sigh, all began to morph together into one beautiful melody. You’re moaning underneath him, desperate, all-consuming, so hungry for him that you’re forced to stifle your whimpers with the back of your hand.

Cassian felt the tension coiling in his body, the tightness in his balls, and the warmth spreading through his body. He imagined you writhing underneath him, your hips chasing his every thrust, your body arching beneath him, eyes filled with pleasure as he filled you with his seed. His orgasm hits him fast, his body trembling with the force of his release as he painted his stomach with the evidence of his desire.

Even after he’d cleaned himself off, after he’d submerged himself in a cold bath, Cassian’s mind still lingered on you, on your silk set, on your lips— on your laugh. And as he tossed and turned in bed once more, Cass realized he was completely fucked.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

"What's got you so flustered?" Mor asked, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

Mor knew exactly why you were so flustered. Her, Amren, and Feyre had guessed it from the beginning— the subtle touching and lingering gazes. You liked Cassian, like-liked Cassian. And until now, you had refused to admit it.

As you remembered the moment with Cassian a mere three nights ago, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You ran your hands down your face and let out a groan. Feyre and Mor exchanged amused glances.

“He walked in shirtless!” You exclaimed, your voice still slightly covered by your hands running down your face. “Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I just kept shoving berries in my mouth. And then I kept trying to find a reason to touch him but I couldn’t.”

Feyre, who sat next to you with her legs to the side, comfortably nestled into the crook of the couch, leaned forward, looking at you with expectant eyes. “So what did you do?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact by focusing on a loose thread on the couch. "I gave him a berry." Your voice was quiet. You spared Feyre a glance under your brow. When you saw her face crinkle in amusement, you quickly looked away, nervously twirling the thread between your fingers. It snapped quickly.

From in front of you, Mor stared, her brows furrowed and mouth slightly parted. “You gave him… a berry?” She leaned back, a look of intrigue on her face.

You nodded slowly, aware of how lame it sounded. “Yes. I fed him a berry.” You said, looking up at her.

"And?" Feyre asked.

You pursed your lips and glanced at her, and then bounced your vision around the room. There was a deep sense of embarrassment that bubbled in your stomach, a feeling that made you want to hide away. You were flustered, more than you had ever been, and it was due to your best friend shirtless in the kitchen. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush— and it was humiliating. But looking at both of your friends, so eagerly sitting, you let out a breath and word-vomited them the truth.

“And I’ve never been so aroused by someone's lips and the faint feeling of stubble! Gods, what do I do?” You lifted your hands up in exasperation, finding yourself sinking further into the couch. Crossing your arms, you huffed in frustration. Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel the heat radiating from them.

“I know what to do.” Mor said, matter-of-factly. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You do?" Your hands dropped to your lap and you leaned forward.

"Yes. You need to get laid." Mor's tone was casual.

Your eyes widened. "W-What?" Your jaw dropped.

Mor only nodded her head affirmatively, jutting her chin out towards Feyre next to you. “She agrees.”

You shot a look to Feyre, who stared at you with wide eyes. She gave you a sheepish smile. “I mean…” She trailed off, looking towards Mor for help. You followed her gaze and turned your head to the blonde once more.

"We’re going to Ritas," Mor declared. She stood up, a confident sway to her hips as she moved towards the door.

"But we went last week," You protested. Mor stopped in her place and turned around to look at you with feigned innocence.

"Oh, I’m sorry,” She said, bringing her delicate hand to her chest, “I didn’t realize it was illegal to go out two weekends in a row."

You tilted your head and threw her an unamused look, but Mor only grinned at you. When you let out a defeated sigh and shook your head, she knew she had won and looked towards Feyre.

“Amren will come, too. It’ll be a girls night. Right, Fey?”

Feyre smiled and turned to look at you, meeting your gaze. “Right.” She affirmed. She leaned forward, placing a soft hand on your bicep. “It’ll be fun.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

When the day began winding down, Mor returned from her apartment, arms heavy with dresses. She strolled into your room, Amren in tow, with the same grin from earlier. Looking towards where you and Feyre sat on your couch, she let out an excited squeal. “Tonight is going to be great.”

You glanced at Amren, who merely gave you a small quirk of her lips before planting herself down on the seat opposite of you, watching as Mor dumped her pile of clothes on your bed.

You casted a glance at the pile of dresses, each with their own gorgeous vibrant color and delicate fabrics. You looked over at Mor. “Couldn’t decide on what to wear?” You mused. You pulled yourself up and walked towards her, examining the dresses on your bed. You brought the fabric of one between your fingers, feeling the delicate silk.

Mor let out a laugh, bringing her hand to your arm. She looked at you with an amused glance. “Oh babe, these aren’t for me.”

You frowned at her, and then your face fell. “Oh, these are for me?”

She nodded excitedly. Looking behind you towards Amren and Feyre. “Tell her how beautiful these would look on her.”

You didn’t look back, instead running your hands across the pile of elegant dresses. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them. Each dress was gorgeous in its own right, and if they belonged to Mor, you knew that they would look even better on– sexy, even. But you frowned slightly at the idea of dressing up to go to Rita’s with the goal of getting noticed. Unlike times before, it didn’t seem appealing. But perhaps you were overthinking. After all, the past two weeks had left you in your head too much.

Feyre craned her head slightly, watching as you stared at the dresses. “They are beautiful, Y/n.”

You let out a small sigh. This was good for you. Mor was right, you needed to get laid. You hadn’t fucked in a while. With all the tension and stress you’d been feeling, the worries about Koschei and impending doom, it made sense that your desires would manifest in someone familiar like Cassian, right? You nodded to yourself at the thought and then smiled. “Tell me which to try on first.”

You eyed the first dress Mor handed you. It was a stunning creation, soft and open, with a low neckline that hinted at just the right amount of allure. The fabric shimmered in the faelight of your room. As you slipped it on, the dress clung to your figure, accentuating curves you didn't always pay attention to. But it didn’t feel right. The straps felt a bit too loose, and as you turned to check yourself in the mirror, you realized the openness that had seemed so alluring was now making you uneasy.

Amren’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

You nodded in agreement, tugging at the neckline. "Yeah, I think I’ll pass."

Feyre chimed in with a supportive smile. "Let's try the next one. Maybe it'll capture the right feeling. Yeah?” She turned her head to the side, motioning towards some dresses that Mor stood over as she sorted through them. Each dress was a different variation of red, Mor’s beautiful statement color and one that screamed confidence and grace. Surely Mor owned more than red, you thought. Why had she decided that you both were going to adorn her signature color tonight? You didn’t think too long about it, your gaze fixed on yourself in the mirror.

After a few more desperate tries, and Amren’s decreasing confidence in Mor’s styling abilities, the blonde reached into the pile of dresses and pulled out a final dress that had you releasing a small gasp. The fabric was a deep, rich ruby red that seemed to absorb the light around it. As you slipped into the dress, the material clung to your curves, accentuating your silhouette. The neckline dipped low, revealing just enough to be tantalizing without feeling excessive, and you appreciated how naturally your breasts fell underneath it. The open back was a work of art, adorned with delicate jewels that cascaded down like a waterfall, drawing attention to the graceful curve of your spine.

You took a moment before looking at your friends. However, it was Amren specifically that you turned to for a decision, meeting her gaze. She let her eyes run down your figure before looking at you. The corners of her mouth tilted upwards as she gave you a small nod. “This is the one, girl.”

Feyre and Mor watched as you turned to examine yourself in the mirror. The dress opened at the hips, showcasing your thighs and legs. The overall effect was breathtaking, a harmonious blend of elegance and desire. Mor's eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Gods, you look so sexy."

You met Mor’s gaze in the mirror. “No ones going to be able to take their eyes off you,” She gushed, “You’ll have your fair pick of females and males.” You let your mind drift off as Mor continued to babble, feeling Feyre’s hands running through your hair as she twirled the strands between her fingers, deciding how she wanted to help you style it. You took in your appearance in the mirror, eyes roaming over the dress once more, over how well it accentuated your body. It wasn’t until your gaze was drifting up that you noticed the figure in the doorway, your heart stopping.

With a smirk playing on her lips, Amren’s voice rang out. "Hello, Cassian."

You, Feyre, and Mor turned in unison to the doorway, where Cassian stood wide-eyed and still. He paled slightly and swallowed. You felt a flush creep up your neck, your hand flying to your collarbone in an anxious movement. Despite the confidence the perfect dress had given you moments ago, the presence of Cassian in the doorway had thrown you off balance. His eyes roamed your body, tracing where the dress fell at your feet up to its neckline, and all the skin it revealed. His wings twitched behind him, falling slightly. You rubbed at the spot that your hand lay at.

Cassian, still caught off guard, stammered slightly. "I... uh, was just coming to see if you wanted to hang out." You felt your face soften, giving him a smile. Before you could respond, Mor waved him off dismissively.

"Oh, sorry. She’s busy," she said with a tight smile. You casted a quick glance at her before giving your best friend an apologetic one. His gaze lingered on you, running up your figure once more– the heat in his gaze felt like it was lighting you on fire, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I can see that.” He said. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what's going on?" His eyes darted between the dresses thrown across your bed and to the girls surrounding you, each wearing beautiful, elegant gowns of their own. He didn’t miss the way Amren looked at him in amusement, or how her gaze trailed to you as she did so.

Feyre looked between you two before answering. “It's girls night," she explained, “We’re going to Ritas.”

Mor, however, turned around with a large grin. "Y/n is getting laid tonight!" she announced with unabashed enthusiasm.

Cassian's eyes widened, and he blinked rapidly as if trying to process the information. A sizzling sense of jealousy formed in his chest and he breathed out from his nose. The room fell silent for a moment before he finally managed to sputter out “I thought you were over casual flings?”

You bashfully stuttered, feeling a touch of awkwardness in the tense atmosphere, a small lump in the back of your throat, "Oh, well..." Your eyes searched for the right words, and you caught Mor's gaze, her curious stare making you feel a bit more exposed than you'd anticipated. "I don't know. We'll see." You shrugged slightly, giving him a close-mouthed smile.

Feyre and Amren exchanged glances, their eyes bouncing between you and Cassian. You didn’t catch it. Mor wanted to laugh, but instead she pressed her lips together and circled you, taking in the image of you in the dress. "I bet she'll have to fight off people tonight," she mused, casting a sly look in Cassian's direction. "Wouldn't you agree, Cassian?" Feyre’s head swung over to Mor and she gave her a tight look, her eyes widening slightly. Unaffected, the blonde looked back at her with an innocent face. What? She mouthed.

Cass was staring at you, unmoving and chest rising rapidly. You took in his casual wear, how his hair hung loosely, some strands in front of his face. He was looking at you with an intensity in gaze that you’d never felt before, a heat that made you feel like you were on fire. You swallowed, and then bit your lip, watching as his eyes took in those movements too. Having not fully registered Mor's question, he stammered again, "I—uh, what?"

Mor's grin widened, and she feigned innocence. "Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that she looks so beautiful. Tell her how beautiful she looks."

Cassian casted a quick glance at Morrigan, but quickly his eyes settled back to the place they were at before– your face, your body, you. You blushed at Mor's pointed comment. His eyes ran down your figure once more, seeming to trace the lines of the dress. You continued to rub nervously at your collarbone, the heightened attention making you slightly self-conscious.

Cassian, finally finding his words, cleared his throat. "You do look... incredible," he admitted, his eyes still fixed on you. You wondered if your friends were suddenly feeling smothered too, if something in the air was making it hard for them to breathe. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. You resisted the urge to gulp down another nervous breath. Mor let out a small sound of agreement before she looked over at the illyrian male.

"Okay, thats enough gawking, Cassian. We all know Y/n is hot. Now leave us be. Go find Az or Rhys or something," she declared. Your eyes widened slightly, and Cassian shook his head, his mouth slightly parting. Caught between embarrassment and amusement, he took Mor's words in stride. “Right.” He responded with a smile.

He turned around to leave, but before fully retreating, he stole one last glance in your direction. You noticed the subtle, lingering look on his face—an admiring gaze, accompanied by a fleeting lick of his lips. There was a certain longing in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed. Then, you watched as a different expression overcame his features. He walked out before you had a chance to examine it further.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You let out a small laugh as Mor continued to compliment you, talking over her shoulder as you, Feyre, and Amren followed her, approaching the main foyer. Your laughter died as Mor stopped in her tracks and frowned slightly.

"What are you guys doing?" She asked, a mix of surprise and annoyance in her voice. As you caught up to where she stood, you were greeted with the unexpected sight of Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand standing in front of the door, seemingly waiting for you. Dressed in impeccably tailored suits, each of them exuded a distinctive charm. The realization hit you—the look on Cassian’s face as he departed from your room earlier, the sense of determination, the lingering cue of playfulness. He had gone and convinced them both to join.

You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail in how they looked, and Cassian, in particular, stood out. His wings, a symbol of his power and grace that you adored, were confidently spread, and his slicked-back hair added a touch of elegance to his rugged charm. He not only looked good, he looked absolutely delicious. You didn’t attempt to hide the look on your face as you took him in.

Finally ripping your eyes from your best friend, you looked behind him, to where Azriel sat, his face donning its usual cool expression, but you could sense it- the hint of annoyance that laid underneath it. Meanwhile, next to him, Rhysand sported a large, confident grin. A grin that Cassian mirrored, but with a touch less confidence, his eyes flickering between you and the others. Amren, observing the situation with her usual detached demeanor, glanced at Rhysand and deadpanned, "You're coming with us."

Rhysand's grin widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Girls' night, right?" He threw his mate a wink. You heard her stifle some laughter.

Cassian, scratching the back of his head, added with a sheepish smile, "Figured we'd join the fun. Tonight’s been a bit boring." He gestured around him. Then his gaze fell on you. For what felt like the millionth time tonight, his eyes raked over you and you blinked, catching his gaze when it fell on your face. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You didn’t mind. Not one bit, you thought. If he kept looking at you like that, with those eyes and that heated gaze, you wouldn’t mind a thing he did. He could ask you for anything right now, and you’d say yes. Yes, yes, just keep staring at me like that. Like you see me, like you want me.

Mor scoffed, "Yes, we do mind!" She turned to you, looking for support. "Tell them it's a girls night."

All eyes turned to you, and you felt a flutter of uncertainty. There was Cassian, his eyes locked onto yours, examining you, your every feature, your every move. The heat of his eyes had started to pooled down at your thighs. You clenched everything below your waist as you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the intensity of his gaze. Mor's impatience grew, and she raised an expectant eyebrow. "Well?"

You lingered on Cassian, and despite Mor's expectant face, you found yourself saying, "No, I don't mind."

Mor's expression shifted from annoyance to resignation, and she let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

Cassian's face brightened with a grin, "I promise, Mor, it'll be so fun." His attention turned towards you, walking to you with a soft, but charming grin. "Allow me." He extended his elbow, and without hesitation, you interlocked your hand with his. The touch was comforting and warm, and his scent enveloped you as he guided you towards the exit. You closed your eyes with a content sigh.

The fragrance that clung to him was intoxicating. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him tonight, to let him join you and the girls. The dress you were wearing gave you an inflated sense of confidence that you hadn’t felt for a while, and as you walked alongside Cassian, you wondered if it would truly be so bad to indulge in your thoughts of him. To think of his hands, the some ones with you right now, and how they would trace your body the way his eyes had this evening. You felt your arousal bubbling up at the thought of it. It was all in innocent fun, right? You could think of him, enjoy this touch, fantasize about him, as long as that's all it was— thoughts in your mind, away from reality, an idea that you never let come to fruition.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You had to admit, Mor was right. Rita’s was definitely the move tonight. Somehow it was even more lively than last week, bustling with people and energy. You weren’t as intoxicated as last time, not anywhere near it, but you felt drunk all the same. And you weren’t ashamed to admit, now, that your drunken haze was all caused by one thing: your extremely attractive best friend.

You and Cass had lost the rest of your group a while back, pulled into a drink off with a beautiful fae couple. Cassian and you had won every single round, leaving you standing at the bar now, celebrating with another round of shots.

Cassian was standing next to you as you both faced the bar, your arms touching, practically on top of one another. Cass craned his head to look at the crowd behind you, his hand wrapping around your waist as people drunkenly stumbled past you, making their way to the bar. On usual nights, Cassian’s hand would have dropped by now, returned to their position at his side, but not tonight. Instead, he kept his hand across your waist, keeping a heavy hold on you. You could feel the heat from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you felt it as it moved straight to your core. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to ignore it, suddenly feeling grateful for the multitude of smells in Rita’s that covered your arousal. You turned your head to the side to look at Cassian, noticing that his gaze was on you, but not on your face. Instead, it seemed as if he was looking to where his hand rested on your hip.

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing, leaning closer to him. He tilted his head slightly, and then you felt his hand lift. You felt a small tinge of disappointment, but it quickly dissipated when you felt his light touch hovering over your back, tracing where the delicate jewels of your dress cascaded down your spine like a waterfall. Your body shuddered. You watched him as his gaze deepended, as he took his lip between his teeth. His hands traced the ornate jewelry, landing at the base of your spine, where the fabric of your dress gathered.

“I like this,” Cassian said, his voice low. His eyes flickered to yours, “Beautiful.”

Your chest fluttered at his words— was he complimenting the dress, or you? You couldn’t ask even if you wanted to, the air sucked out of your lungs with every lingering touch of his. Your mouth parted slightly as he stared at you, as you ran your eyes along his face. You felt the brush of his fingers on your spine now. He wasn’t tracing the jewelry anymore, no, he was touching you.

“Here you go,” A sudden voice pulled you out of the moment. Both you and Cassian turned your heads to the bartender placing two small shot glasses in front of you. You had forgotten you’d ordered another round, forgotten why you were at the bar in the first place, with your best friends hands over you. “I apologize for the wait.” The bartender said.

You spared him a quick glance, a small graceful smile on your lips, “No worries,” you said. But then you looked at him once more, recognizing the smile he wore, the sound of his voice. This was the bartender Cassian was talking about. And from the way he looked at you, how he pushed your glass to your hand, lightly grazed your fingers, you knew Cass was right about his interest in you.

“Thanks,” Cassian said, his voice rough. He grabbed both of the glasses in his hand, dragging them closer to your chests, his eyes trained on the bartender, whose smile faltered as he looked at your best friend. Cassian’s hand, which had fallen from your back at the interruption, found your hips again. “That’ll be it.” You didn’t need to look at the bartender to know that he shrunk away, intimated. You didn’t need to look because all you wanted to stare at was Cassian. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. Something about his grip on you, on the way he’d pushed the bartender away, the way he’d touched your spine, all of it had you pooling at your core.

“Here,” Cass said, pushing your glass towards you with his knuckle. He grabbed his in his hand. The other hand was still at your hip, unmoving— except for the occasional circular rub of his thumb. You tenderly took the shot, angling your body to twist slightly so you could better face him. The hand on you moved appropriately, still staying placed on your hip as you maneuvered.

“Cheers.” You said, looking at him. You licked your lips as you held the shot up. Cassian met yours, the two glasses making a clink as they touched. “Cheers.” He responded.

Tilting your head back, you welcomed the shot openly, letting the liquid coat your throat, feeling the warmth as it moved down. When you were done, you were met with Cassian’s gaze once more, watching you. His gaze followed the column of your throat as you swallowed. His hand moved to your face, his thumb wiping away a stray drop of whiskey on your chin. The touch itself sent a frenzy through your body, and you let out a small, quiet gasp.

“Y/n.” He murmured.

“Yes?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body still. He was closer to you now than a few moments ago, and it took everything in your power not to pull him even closer, to brush against him.

“You can’t look at me like that.” Cassian finally replied.

Your heart leaped, and you took a sharp intake of breath. How were you looking at him, you wondered? Mor’s words echoed in your mind: like he was a piece of meat and you were a starving vegetarian? She was right. Oh, so right. You wanted to taste him, to devour him, to have him ravish you in return. You swallowed and then whispered in response.

“Like what?”

Cassian said nothing. He scanned your face and then his hand was moving again, brushing a stray strand of your hair from your face. When the hair still fell out of place, he gingerly grabbed it and tucked it behind your ear. You felt his finger trace the shell of your ear, falling as it reached your lobe, now on your cheek. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch, pressing closer to him. His grasp at your hip tightened, and you felt as it moved up, his hands now grabbing the skin at your waist.

When you opened your eyes, your gaze met his instantly. He was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with desire. "We should probably find our friends," he whispered, his voice hoarse. You nodded absentmindedly, feeling your chest tighten. Cassian’s palm slightly lifted from your cheek, the ghost of his touch lightly moving. His thumb found your lips, tugging at them slightly, you let your mouth fall open with the touch. He nearly let out a moan at the sight.

“Or,” You whispered back, “We could go home.”

He nodded, the pad of his thumb still rubbing at your lip. “We could.”

You lifted your hand to grab his wrist softly, pulling it lower, to your chest. You felt the heat of his palm as it landed on your chest. “Cassian.” His cock pressed angrily against his zipper at the sound of his name falling from your lips so sensually, so softly. His hand trailed higher, and then he was wrapping it around your neck, his thumb running along your throat. You savored the touch and bit your lip, looking at him through your lashes. The look was all he needed, any self-constraint quickly disappearing.

“Let's go home.” He said, his thumb running alongside your lips once more. Then, he was spinning you both around, interlacing your fingers as he pulled you through the crowd.

As Cassian led you out, you looked back, squinting at the mass of people. Your gaze landed on Feyre, who was already looking at you. You watched as she glanced between you and Cassian, and then she gave you a small smile, her brows slightly furrowed. Be careful. Her voice echoed in your brain, soft and gentle. You weren't sure what she was referring to, if she was talking about your trip home or the way you were entangled with your best friend. Either way it didn’t matter. You weren’t being careful, not now. You didn’t want to be.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d never been in this position with someone you loved so dearly— never been in the situation where you were about to fuck your best friend.

The way home was a blur, the cold air as you both left Rita’s in a hurry, how Cass had wrapped his arms around you, how they had wandered and explored, but nowhere too vulnerable— not yet. You had made it a few minutes before you decided to winnow back, your ability fully functioning and, at the moment, incredibly convenient. Back at the house, you both had stared at each other, breathing hard, heavy-lidded eyes with lust. You could smell it on him. You didn’t doubt that you reeked of your own arousal. But Cass has stepped away from you, for a brief moment, biting his lips as his hands curled at his sides. Whatever you want, sweetheart, is what he had said. He wanted to give you an out, a chance to change your mind, to decide that this wasn’t a line you wanted to, or were ready to, cross. The realization hit you sweetly, and it only added to your arousal, the fact that he was so aware of you.

You had looked at him, a small nod of your head towards the hallways, towards the corridors that led to your rooms. You hadn’t said anything, a heavy silence followed you, filled with longing and desperation, a hint of anxiety. You had waited, let Cassian take the next move. If he followed, you both knew what would happen. You had given him an out, too.

You worried when some time had passed and you were still alone in your bedroom. You walked towards your mirror, taking in your appearance, the dress on you, the evident arousal on your face, in your stature. Then you heard him. His walking. You closed your eyes, hearing his heavy footsteps enter your room. You heard your door shut, and the footsteps grew louder until you felt him behind you, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. You let out a small breath.

“Cass,” You whispered, your eyes opening and meeting his in the mirror.

His hands found your hips, and he pulled you back into him. You felt his hard length against you, pressing against your exposed back, the heat of it alone causing you to let out a small, shaky breath. You leaned back into him, rubbing against him as his fingers tightened around you. Craning your head to the side, Cassian took advantage of your exposed neck, running his nose along it, inhaling your scent. He nudged the sweet spot behind your ears, your knees almost giving out as his lips trailed the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin.

His voice, rough as gravel, sent a wave through you of something you couldn’t name, but it was heavy, hot, and made you so incredibly horny. “Sweetheart, are you…” He trailed off.

Sure? Sober? You had a feeling that sober is what his question seemed to probe at. You nodded, nodded frantically. Every shot you had taken tonight had no effect on your body, not anymore. You’d felt the last lingering effects of your final shot as you both came home, feeling as it slipped out of your system. And if he was asking if you were sure, that answer was yes, too. You were boldly, acutely, and fully aware of the moment, of each sensation in your body— fully aware of the ache in your legs, of how good Cassian smelled. “Yes, yes.” You whispered.

“Thank god,” He groaned– a guttural, animalistic sound.

Before you could blink, Cassian was spinning you around. You let out a gasp, your view quickly taken up by the image of his face hovering over yours. He held your face in both of his hands, his thumbs swiping across your cheeks. His eyes scanned you in desperation, as if he was searching for something within the details of your features. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find as he brought his lips to yours, giving in entirely with a soft moan of relief. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, and you moaned into him, flinging your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He kissed you harder.

“You sure?” Cassian whispered, floating the question again. He slid his warm palm up and over your hips, to your waist, your ribs, and back down again. You let out a sigh at his touch, running your palms up to pull the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes,” You said as he feathered kisses along your neck. “Are you?”

You felt Cassian nod against you, a small breathless laugh left his lips as he came up for another kiss. “Fuck yes. I’ve been dreaming about this.” And then he placed another kiss on your lips, deep and sensual. Hunger radiated off him like a starved man. His words turned you to jelly and you swore you could feel your wetness running down your thighs.

“This dress,” he breathed against your lips, “I wanted to rip it off you the minute I saw it.”

Before you can react, he reached out and gripped the fabric of your dress, yanking it downward with a force that left your heart racing. You gasped as the material was torn from your body, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You watched in awe as he threw the torn fabric aside, a small sound emitting as the jewels made contact with the hard floor. The cold air immediately took the place of the warmth of your clothing, making you shiver with pleasure.

“That was Mor’s!” You managed to breathe out, looking at the discarded pile of fabric. Your words died in your throat the minute you caught Cassian’s gaze again. There was a predatory look in his eyes as he took you in, and you remembered now that you were completely naked now, save for a lacy pair of panties. Your nipples perked, hard and ready, in the cold air. Cassian, his gaze unmoving, simply grumbled back, “I’ll buy her a new one.”

Cassian's eyes roamed over your naked body, his gaze heated as he took in the sight of you, completely at his mercy. His hands reached out, his fingers tracing a path down your arms, making you shake with anticipation. His hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer. "You have no idea how beautiful you are," He said, "How much I've wanted this." You felt his erection, hard and ready, pressing against your stomach.

His lips found yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kissed you with all the passion he'd been holding back. You felt the desire radiating from him, making you feel wanted and desired in a way that nothing else ever had. As he broke the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, filled with pure, unfiltered lust. "I'm going to make you come," he growled, his voice low and rough. "And when I do, you'll never forget the way I made you feel."

With that, he plunged his tongue back into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as you stand there, naked and vulnerable, your cunt throbbing with every word, every touch. Your hands gripped his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressed together in a frenzy of passion.

Cassian broke away from you for a moment, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. "Jump," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Without hesitation, you lifted yourself into his arms as he pulled you into him effortlessly. He wrapped himself around you, his hands gripping at your ass, fingers digging into your skin. You felt his erection pressing against you, underneath you, with desperate need.

He took a few steps before he carefully dropped you onto your bed with a bounce. You fell onto your back, your eyes wide with desire as you looked up at him. He took you in with his eyes, every detail of your body etched in his mind, hungrily saving the image of you for later.

Cassian's movements were hurried and frenzied as he removed his own shirt, discarding it carelessly on the floor near your--Mor's-- shredded dress. As he moved, you sat up from your supine position, your legs naturally falling to either side, finding yourself yourself in a kneeling position. You looked up at Cass. The sight of you like this, vulnerable and expectant, only intensified the hunger in his eyes, and he groaned.

You reached out to him and ran your fingertips along the waistband of his black pants, watching as his stomach muscles clenched in response to your touch. Cassian caught your wrists in his hands, looking down at you hungrily, he shook his hand. “Not yet, sweetheart. Let me savor this.”

You let out a small whimper, the sound shooting straight to his dick, causing the hardening length to throb in anticipation. But when he released your hands, you kept them at his waistband, bringing your hand to palm him through the fabric of his pants.

“Please,” You whimpered, “I want to.”

And what kind of man would Cassian be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked up at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? He moaned, feeling as if he could cum at the sight of you alone. This, you, were better than any of his fantasies— and he had come up with a lot within the past two weeks.

You stared at him, at the way his muscles ripped under this golden skin, at the black tattoos curling around him, at the way his wings flared out openly, dominantly. You ached to be closer, to be able to touch the sensitive membrane. You licked your lips, taking in the curl of his biceps, the sharp dips of his hips, Gods, he was beautiful. He brought his right hand to your face, holding it tenderly before moving his hand to grab your hair at the back of your head. You took that as your invitation, leaning forward to undo his pants. With his buttons undone, you pulled the fabric down, Cassian’s hands aiding you to slide his underwear off with it.

You let out a gasp at his length, at the girth, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock. Red and hungry at the tip, leaking. You were watering at the sight. A deep sense of jealousy pooled into your stomach, images of every female he’d been with before, every female who had the pleasure of experiencing this before you. Mine. You thought. Mine. Pushing yourself closer to him, you kissed a line down his stomach.

You felt his muscles tense beneath your lips as you wrapped your fingers around him. He hissed as you rubbed your hands up his considerable length, the sound repeating when you spit on the head, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You dragged the flat of your tongue upward, against the underside of his cock. Cassian’s reaction was instant, bucking into your grip with a breathless, raspy, moan that sent a wave of arousal down your body. You allowed your hand to follow the trail, spreading your saliva. Your mouth sunk down on him. As you hollowed your cheeks, Cassian pushed himself harder, letting out a sinful groan as you welcomed him, taking him deeper in your throat.

“Gods,” Cassian tightened his jaw as he watched his cock disappear between your swollen lips with every bob of your head. “That pretty little mouth of yours.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, Cassian’s head falling backward as he moaned, his grip in your hair getting tighter. You moaned in response, the sound vibrating through him. You shifted on your thighs, rubbing them together in an attempt to relieve some of your own arousal. With a wet pop, you released him from your mouth, looking directly up at him as he stared at you with naked lust. You greedily swallowed the taste of him that coated your tongue.

“Enough. My turn.” He said, his voice halfway between growl and purr, a feral sound from deep in his chest that reverberated through your core. Cassian’s hand found your chest, after a squeeze of your breasts, his palm settled above your ribs. With a soft push, you were flat on your back again. He leaned over you and you seized the opportunity to rock against his thigh, your pussy throbbing at every touch of his, desperate for friction. But he moved quickly, leaving you grasping for touch. “Cassian.” You moaned. You pulled him back up again, desperate to have him close, slotting your lips against him.

He accepted another hungry, ravenous kiss from you before he moved down, trailing hard kisses down your jaw and across your collarbone. Your hands tugged at him, roaming over the length of his shoulders and the plane of his back, you trailed your fingers along his wings, the sensitive and soft membrane. You felt him shudder at the touch, watched as those beautiful wings twitched. You needed more.

Cassian stopped, taking a moment to bite into the soft flesh at the base of your neck. You let out a moan, throwing your hands into his hair as he sucked on the tender skin, soothing the area with a swipe of his tongue. He removed his mouth, tilting his head to make slight eye contact with you, a cocky grin placed on his lips.

“I’ll paint you in my marks, Y/n.” He whispered, moving his head down to continue his trail of kisses, “Just to have evidence that I was lucky enough to be here.”

He brought one hand between your thighs, his large calloused fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh, his perfect mouth still exploring you, tasting your skin. Your moans tumbled from your mouth, outside of your control, flowing like a river. You tightened your grasp on his hair, your fingers raking his scalp, pelvis lifting into his touch. Your legs widened further to provide him better access, knees dropping to the side.

“To feel this.” Cassian’s fingers pulled your underwear aside and ran themselves through the wetness at your core, through your sensitive folds. His finger delicately circled your clit, rubbing at it in a way that had you mewing at his touch.

You let out a gasp as one probed at your entrance, your warm core welcoming it greedily. You felt his finger curl, and then arched into him as he added another, working in and out of you. You could hear the squelch of your juices as he fingered you, could feel the way your essence dripped with each movement.

A disappointed sigh left your lips when the warmth of his hand left you. But seconds later, as you looked down at him with your hands in his hair, he pulled himself up slightly– just enough to look at you. Just enough to make eye contact as he tilted his head and stuck his slick fingers into his mouth. He lapped at the wetness coating his fingers.

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.” He said, moving down to drop to his knees at the edge of the bed, between your spread legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows to keep your gaze on him. He looked at you, heavy lidded, his mouth glistening with the remnants of your slick. “May I?”

Please, please. He didn’t need to ask, you thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him on you, in you, all over you. Whatever he wanted was what you wanted. You lazily nodded, your tongue darting out again to wet your lips.

“Words, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, placing hot and wet kissing along your thighs. His arms snaked under your thighs, hands reaching to grab your hips and pull you closer. He slowly peeled your drenched panties off your body. “I want to hear you.”

“Yes,” You finally managed to croak out. Your voice deep and needy. “Please, Cass.”

And then his tongue was on you, licking a stripe up your dripping sex. You let out a loud moan at the contact, at the feeling of his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your folds, dragging it slowly. Your hands found his hair and gripped it roughly between your fingers, your body curling around him. Cassian’s tongue dipped into your hole, darting in, again and again. Your legs trembled as stars began to cloud your vision.

“Cassian,” You choked out, feeling the building pressure in your stomach. You tried bucking your hips, but Cassian kept your thighs still, steady in a position where you couldn’t escape his wicked mouth. His tongue alternated between teasing your clit and slipping into your entrance. Your spined bowed in pleasure, and you brought one hand to your breasts, rubbing them and pinching at your nipples as Cassian ravaged you.

“You’re delicious. So fucking delicious.” Cassian crooned as he pulled apart from your cunt. He took a minute to admire the sweet image of you dripping in front of him, and then he dove back in. He let out a moan, quiet but still audible, and you noticed his other hand had removed itself from your thigh, now hidden from your view. As you looked, you saw it visibly moving, frantically, desperately. Cassian was eating you out and rubbing his own cock at it, pleasuring himself as he lapped at you. You moaned at the idea alone. The noises you made were loud, loud enough that you knew your family would hear if they were home already. But you didn’t care, you had no shame. Let them hear.

Cassian was murmuring into your core; he repeated something, the words falling from him like a prayer from a dying man. You were barely able to hear his whispers over the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears. Cassian pulled back a little then, heedless of your firm hold on his hair, watching you with his jaw set, eyes dark and greedy.

“Oh, Y/n,” he said huskily. “I could feast on this beautiful pussy forever, you know that?”

As he withdrew his mouth, he replaced its presence with his fingers instead. His thumb resumed the stimulation on your clit while his fingers moved inside your. When he slid another finger into you, your hips jumped, moving to meet his fingers faster. He curled his fingers into you as you rutted down harder. He groaned as your walls clenched when he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that had you whining his name. Your face contorted in pleasure and you let your head fall back. Cassian’s hand gripped at your thigh, calling your attention back.

“Down here,” He hummed, “Keep those pretty eyes down here.”

You brought your head back up, supporting yourself with your elbows. Cassian’s eyes stayed on yours as he lowered himself to your sex again, nustling his nose against your clit before he licked a stripe up your cunt, bringing his mouth to suck on your clit. You felt his fingers enter you again– one, then two. They brushed against you as he lapped at your clit, drawing circles with his tongue. You could barely breathe, the air leaving your lungs as Cassian filled your body with sweet, suffocating ecstasy. Your right hand found itself in his hair again, grabbing, pulling. He let out a groan at the feeling, and continued to lap at you.

You felt it everywhere, felt him everywhere. Pleasure gushed through your body, every part of your body sensitive. You writhed under him, your vision of Cassian growing blurry as you felt your pleasure build, coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode. You’re weren't sure what was up or down, forgotten where you were completely. Nothing existed except you and Cassian and the way he fucked you with his fingers and his mouth, and Gods, the thought of your reality alone made you want to cum. You grinded against his mouth, feeling as he grabbed you, pulled you closer, harder, against him, completely smothering him.

“Oh my Gods, yes, yes, yes.” The sounds you were emitting were music to his ears and Cassian continued.

The mixture of your pleasure, of Cassian’s grunts, his smells, of the way his wings twitched with each of your moans, made it even sweeter when Cassian brought another finger to your entrance. That tight, hot, built-up coil in your stomach loosened and you shriled loudly, your back bowing off the bed beneath you. Your whole body quaked as your orgasm rippled through you.

Cassian was in heaven— he was sure of it. You were a vision, your cheeks flushed, your lips parted as you moaned out in pleasure, your hard grasp in his hair. He felt every sound from your lips, every whisper of his name falling straight to his aching cock. Cassian, fuck, Cassian. You chanted them like a prayer and he swallowed them all. You were something holy, something absolutely divine and he felt himself losing it. He wanted to worship you forever, to stay buried in your cunt and die a happy man. Every man before him hadn’t appreciated you enough. He wanted to make you his, his beautiful creature, his goddess.

Cassian slowed his movements, but didn’t halter them completely as he let you work through the wave of your pleasure. Your hand had gone lax in his hair, and he took the opportunity to pepper kisses across your skin — across your legs, across your cunt, even the sweaty crook of your thigh, anywhere his lips could reach. The hand that once gripped your thighs so tightly softened. Cassian rubbed gentle circles around your skin. He waited, and only until your body stopped shaking and you let out a small content sigh between your ragged breaths did he remove his fingers from you.

He gave your core a slight smack and you let out a gasp, the action sending a spark throughout your body, leaving you aching and throbbing more than you had been seconds before. Cassian gave you a smirk.

“Holy fuck,” You breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. “Cassian…” You watched as he stood up, bringing his fingers to his mouth as he licked off your juices once more. Your gaze dropped to his chest, and then to his throbbing cock. He stroked it as he looked at you, and your core ached once more, clenching at the thought of him inside you. Cassian stared at you, lips parted, drinking the sight of you eagerly. You pushed yourself further up, scooting back enough to lie flat on the middle of your bed.

“You are a vision. A godsdamn vision,” Cassian spoke, the words falling off his tongue in a breathless confession, “Thought about this for so long.” He walked over to you.

You gulped at the admission, thinking back onto your own fantasies of him, of his hands, of his mouth. You blinked, watching as he braced his hands on the bed. “Yeah?”

Cassian nodded, bringing his hand to rub alongside your legs, tracing the curves of your body. As he crawled onto the bed, he let his hands wander with every movement. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

The nickname made your heart clench, and you felt your wetness building once again, your pussy still sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Tell me.” You whispered. He straightened himself, moving to hover over you. With one arm supporting his weight, Cassian rocked his hips against yours. He molded his other hand to your breasts, sucking in a deep, ragged breath. You arched into his touch, mewing for more. You felt your heart throb, a warmth enveloping your chest. You couldn’t breathe. All you wanted to feel was him, his hands, his skin, his touch. His touch cascaded down your body, grabbing at your thighs, pulling them closer to him.

“Rubbed myself raw at the thought of you underneath me like this.” He placed a kiss to your chest, quickly turning it into a small love bite, sucking at the skin tenderly. He released your skin with a brush of his teeth, bringing his fingers to softly touch the bruised skin. His fingers returned to your torso, teasing your nipples once more, bringing them between his fingers. He bent his head down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. You arched into him, letting out a sweet sound at the wet contact. Cass swirled his tongue around the hardened nub before gently tugging it with his teeth, causing you to let out a cry of pleasure that quickly turned into a whine when he lifted his head. He lightly blew on your nipple, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure as your nipple peaked harder, responding to the contrast of his hot mouth and the cool air. He repeated the same motions with your other breast.

You moaned as you felt him tease your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit and around your inner lips. You impatiently bucked your hips, trying to guide him where you wanted him, where you ached for him, but Cassian’s firm hand on your lower abdomen halted your movements.You looked up at him with frustration, frowning at the sly grin on his mouth.

“Cass, please,” You pleaded with broken whimpers. Cassian said nothing, moving his head down to kiss alongside your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth. He teased you more, and in a movement of exasperation, fueled by the swelling and throbbing of your heat, you pulled him towards you by his neck. You placed your forehead against his, looking at him through heavy eyes. “Cassian, please fuck me already.”

Cassian gave you a wolfish grin. “Since you asked so nicely,” he said, bringing you in for another kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the kiss wet with desire and something more you couldn't place. Taking a breath and pulling apart, Cassian moved his hand to grab his cock, stroking it once, twice, before lining it up with your entrance.

You let out a deep moan as he pushed into you, feeling yourself stretching around him. Your previous climax had left you sensitive, so sensitive that the first rock of Cassian’s hips left you gasping for air. Cass let out a guttural groan, leaning his forehead against yours as he bottomed out. His hair clung to his forehead. You looked up at him, at his mouth open in pleasure, and ran your hands alongside his face.

“Fuck,” His breath fanned your face. He looked at you with that deep intensity in his gaze that stirred your heart. The next thrust was just as slow, Cassian pushing in as deep as your body would allow. “You, You feel fucking incredible.”

You closed your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you. But soon, Cassian’s voice snapped again, and you felt one hand grab your face, his hand holding your jaw, his thumb rubbing at your lips. “Look at me, beautiful.” He said, letting his thumb dip into your mouth.

You spread legs spread open to the sides as he began to vigorously slam into you with no restraint, never breaking the eye contact he'd so quickly grown to love. He drank it all in: the clapping noises of flesh and your sensual screams, the sensation of your wet heat wrapped around him, the sopping sounds of your love making, and the way your nails dug into his arms as he told you how good you felt.

You rolled your hips, pushing against his merciless rhythm of thrusts. Cassian looked down at where your bodies met, at where his cock filled you, entranced by the way your hips subconsciously tilted at the intrusion, at how your hole welcomed him. With a growl, he lifted your legs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly for his rough, relentless thrusts. Your breath caught in your throat as your watched him fuck you, your heart pounding in her chest. “Cass, Cassian.”

“Keep saying my name, baby.” The pet name fell from his lips so effortlessly, caressing you like another wave of heat. “Tell me how good it feels.”

As he continued to move inside you, your thoughts jumbled into a mess of pure pleasure. You let out a string of incoherent words, your mind drunk on the feeling of him stretching you, hitting spots you’d never experienced before. “S’Good.” You whimpered. You wrapped your arms tighter across his shoulders, reaching to touch the delicate membrane of his wings. They twitched under your fingertips, and you felt Cassian let out a moan before the sound registered in your ear. He snaked a hand where your bodies met, finding your swollen, aching clit, and began to rub circles around it. You gasped.

“I wish I could be here forever,” Cassian groaned, his lips hovering over your ears, “Stay buried inside of your cunt. Fuck you like this for the rest of my life.” You didn't know if Cassian was aware of what he was saying, aware of what it implied, but you didn't care. It all felt so good, and his words made every stroke even more pleasurable. You wanted this, you wanted this for the rest of your life– you’d never experienced something this great, never known this level of pleasure could exist.

“Please, Cass. Please.” You didn't know what you were begging for, but Cassian hushed you, peckering kisses all over you, his head fell in the crook of your shoulder, moving to bring his teeth to the sensitive skin at your neck. You moaned. “Yes, yes. Mark me. I’m yours.”

Your words seemed to hit a part of him, forcing him to pull away and stare at you with wide eyes. He stilled inside of you. "Say that again," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. You brought your hands to his face, gently rubbing his cheeks. The tender, soft touch sent a shock straight to his cock, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. When you pulled apart for air, Cassian’s strokes began to pick up again, his forehead resting on yours. "Fuck me like I'm yours." You said to him, your voice filled with raw desire.

Cassian’s mind shuffled through the past two weeks, the memories of the bartender hitting on you, of the men who never satisfied you. He felt a primal possessiveness, a need to take you faster, harder, deeper. His thrusts became more aggressive, more forceful, his wings caressing you as they wrapped around both of your bodies. You cried out in pleasure, your body arching beneath him, hands gripping the sheets as you took him deep inside you.

He watched you, admired your body sprawled on the bed before him, his hands on your hips, holding you at just the right angle. His mouth salivated at your beautiful face, flushed and red, and the way your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. The noise of your fucking was obscene - the soft squeaks of your bed, the wet sounds of your bodies slapping together, the moans and curse words and harsh breathing. His grip on your hips tightened and his thrusts became more erratic.

Cassian’s movements became faster than you could process– one moment, he was thrusting into you, and the next, he was picking you up, maneuvering you so that you were sitting on his thighs, looking at him as he leaned back. You gasped at the new angle, at the feeling of sinking onto him completely. His eyes locked on yours as you straddled him and his hands guided you up and down his cock, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass, guiding you closer to him with each thrust. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you rode him harder, faster, your body craving more. “Ride me just like that, sweetheart.” His voice rang in your head, making you dizzy. You arched forward towards him. One hand left your ass, going to grab one of your breasts, fondling with your nipple. His eyes were dark with desire, his gaze never leaving yours as he watched you take him deep inside you.

As you sank down onto him, his hips bucked up to meet you, your bodies connecting with a primal force. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you moaned softly, your eyes closing in pleasure. But Cassian didn't want you to close your eyes. He wanted you to look at him, to see the raw fire in his eyes as he took you. He reached up, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.

"Look at me," he growled, his voice rough like gravel. The sound itself made you clench around him as he fucked you. You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as you met his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and possession, and you could feel your orgasm building as you looked at him. His hand tightened around your throat as he began to fuck you harder, his hips bucking up to meet you.

You felt his cock sliding deeper inside you, your pussy clenching around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, "Look at me. Let me see you fall apart on my cock."

As you felt the intensity of your orgasm building, he pulled you down, holding you to his chest, in place, as he continued to thrust into you. You moaned, your forehead resting against his, your eyes locked on his as he continued to fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of you. "Cassian, please, please, I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice hoarse. His hands gripped your ass roughly, pulling you closer to him, sliding deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You felt his heart pounding beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stared at you as he whispered, "I've got you, baby. I've got you."

Your body trembled, your moans grew louder, and soon your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave– your body shook with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him, milking him. You gasped his name, your body convulsing over him, your sensitivity consuming you completely. You felt him tense, his cock swelling even more, and you knew that he was close as well.

His thrusts were rough and hard, each one sending waves of warmth coursing through you. Your body responded to his movements, your cunt massaging him, clenching around him, making him groan in response. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming even rougher, sloppy, and more urgent. His hips moved in a frenzy, each thrust driving him deeper into you, his cock sliding against your most sensitive spots, making you moan with pleasure. You felt his balls slapping against your ass, the sound and sensation driving you wild, your hands grasped at him, at his shoulders, at his neck, at his hair.

You felt the tension building within him, his body tensing underneath you as he neared his climax. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place as he drove into you. You were certain he’d leave marks in their wake, that your hips, your thighs, your body would be bruised with the evidence of his touch. It made you feral.

Cassian’s breaths were ragged as he bucked into you roughly, a string of curses falling from his lips. Finally, he let out a low, primal grunt, his face contorted with pleasure as he came, his cum spilling deep within you. You felt the warmth of his seed filling you, the sensation making you shiver with pleasure. His thrusts became slower, gentler, as he tried to catch his breath, his body still trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. His grip on you loosened, and his hands began to rub up and down your spine, gently, softly, lovingly.

You both laid there for a moment, his cock still deep inside you. Pushing yourself up, you sat upright, Cassian letting out a groan at the feeling of him still inside you, your juices leaking between your legs and onto his skin. His hands rubbed at either of your thighs, both of you breathing heavily as you stared at one another— lips swollen, skin flushed, hair disheveled. You let out a deep breath and let your mouth fall open slightly.

“You are incredible.” Cassian breathed out, looking up at you, still entranced in your beauty. He admired the marks on your body from his mouth, and felt a small smirk growing on his lips. You let out a small exhausted laugh, your hands coming to rest at his shoulders, rubbing your thumb absentmindedly on his skin.

“So,” You said, still breathless, your voice raspy, “What now?”

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ma1dita · 3 months

Text

bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader fanfic #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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leejenowrld · 4 months

Text

nct dream reactions, them fucking you dumb/you riding them

(00 line + mark)

requests are open

☆ mark lee

mark loves to bring you to the studio, it’s always a late night and it’s a time where he can spend time with the two things he loves most in the world. you and music. you’re sitting in his lap, more specifically his cock, bouncing up and down as he plays you the songs he only shows you. the song is background noise, he's focused on the pretty little noises spilling from your lips, the moans and the cries of pleasure. he’s 100% used your moans in the background of his raps.

you quite simply fuck yourself dumb on his cock. you ride him at such a rapid and fast pace, you’re screaming into his ear, moaning his name so loudly, your sounds blend in so beautifully to the music he’s made, it has him in awe.

“fuck, i love you.” his mouth is wide open as he admires the view above him. your screwing your face in pleasure, the steady rise and fall on his cock, how tight your pussy feels. it’s driving him crazy.

but all of a sudden the tone shifts. you’re moving faster, harder, your volume increases by 100%. he can feel you becoming limp against him and it only makes his adoration for you grow. he cups your face softly in his hands, pecking your lips, looking down to where you connect with a heavy moan.

“you’re seriously getting tired already?” mark tuts in your ear, his dark tone causing you to clench around him. he calls you his slut, his whore, he tuts at your need for his cock cock that you’re riding it whilst fucked dumb. he says all this with a sheepish grin on his face.

☆ renjun

renjun is pounding into you from the back, he’s fucking you dumb, the only thing holding your body up is his strong grip on the sides of your hips as he pounds into you. he goes faster every time you scream. filth leaves your lips, you’re begging for him to go faster even though you can’t take it and you’re screaming his name at the top of your lungs.

this all eggs him on even more. his hand squeezes around your throat so tightly. you’ve become sensitive and numb, you’re overstimulated and you cannot feel your thighs but this doesn’t evoke any sympathy from renjun. if anything, he fucks you harder. when you try to move away, he spanks you, a strict warning to stay in place for him.

you’re at a point of no return, he’s fucked you so dumb that you feel breathless. words don’t leave you. only the incoherent moaning of his name slips from your tongue. he moans about how you’re his cum dump and that he’ll keep going for the entire night.

he loves fucking you until you can’t move. his rythmn is messy and rapid, he moves even faster when your walls suck him in and when your pussy clenches around him. the bedsheets are stained and you’re panting in his ear, begging him to stop but your grip around his shoulders as you pull him closer tells him otherwise.

☆ jeno

jeno fucks you dumb once a week, it’s a ritual at this point. he slams his cock into you, your walls tighten around him as you pull him in, he’s moving so fast, the headboard is banging, you’re moaning into each others mouth, your body is shaking against his, flush against flush and his hips rut against yours. he puts your leg over his shoulders and fucks your harder, his cock keeps hitting deeper and deeper.

his stamina exceeds yours and he knows you can’t take it anymore, he’s made you cum four times already. but he doesn’t stop, he knows you’re gonna fuck pout out of sadness if he does. he fucks you harder. he applies pleasure on your neck area, his hands encircle your neck so easily and he closes the grip, giving you no room to breathe as you start choking in his hold. he puts his fingers into your mouth, gagging you with a smirk of satisfaction.

your jaw becomes slack, your moans barely coherent so he brings his fingers to the two sides of your jaw, roughly tugging your mouth open and spitting into you. you’re so dumb fucked that you forgot to swallow, your own saliva mixes with his and you’re a drooling mess, it goes down your chin and leaves a mess

he spanks you hard that it leaves marks and your ass cheeks sting for a while. or is it the feeling of his cock pounding into you? “baby, can you feel me here?” he whispers in a seductive tone, licking his lips as he points out the bulge in your stomach. he speaks in heavy moans, grunts and growls

you become lifeless against him and limp, it turns him on, he has a strength kink, he loves the idea that he’s stronger than you, he loves that he can manhandle you. he throws you around and throws you to whatever position he pleases.

you’re talking nonense and gibberish. he’s fucked so dumb that you can’t even speak properly. “use your fucking words” he growls. poking fun at how you can’t speak because he's choking you. “what? what do you want to do? you wanna ride me?”

you’re so cock hungry that you wanna ride him even after he’s made you cum 4 times. but your body fails you. you’re lucky he loves you because he controls it. he lets you ride him, he holds you up, sitting against the headboard as you’re sitting on his cock, his hands resting on your back to hold you against him. he brings you as close to him as possible, he kisses and moans into your mouth.

his hands grip the sides of your hips to help you move up and down his cock, he wipes all your tears and smiles at you, a rare sight because of how rough he usually is to you in bed. “i love you so much”

☆ donghyuck

donghyuck eats you out like a starved man, he has the ability to fuck you dumb by just using his big, plump and juicy lips. he smooches your pussy, he sucks on your clit, he bites it, his tongue continuously stripes between your folds, he’s lapping until you can’t feel your thighs, until you’re thighs shake around his head and you’re tugging onto his hair, trying to pull him away but this only makes him eat you out faster. he lands one slap to your pussy, a warning to not move him away.

he loves how loud you are for him, screaming his name and letting everyone hear how good he’s fucking you. if you keep screaming like that than you’re sure to get rewarded later. he’s whispering against your pussy and you feel his voice vibrate against your folds. causing your pussy to overcome with sensitivity.

suddenly he rewards you with his cock. you’re still riding the high of your orgasm as he slams into you. he throws one leg over his shoulder and fucks you hard and deeply. he fucks you through every orgasm you have and that’s what has you fucked dumb.

your body becomes clammy and sweaty, you’re painted in his cum and you’re crying, the sound of your cries turns him on. your eyes roll to the back of your head, your toes curling at every thrust and every time his cock hits deep inside of you.

☆ jaemin

jaemin fucks you dumb with a sweet, innocent smile on his face to hide all the dirty things he whispers in your ear. he’s all about the build up, he kisses every inch of your body, he makes you cum the first time by sucking and licking your titties, his tongues lapping at the bud and then releasing his grip with a loud ‘pop’ he makes you cum the next two times by only using his fingers. you’re already an overstimulated, shaking mess and his cock hasn’t even been inside of you yet.

he savours every last piece of you. your taste, the wetness that builds in between your thighs. your touch, your fingernails that dig into his biceps as he drives his cock into your hole. he’ll always look down, loving the sight of his cock in your pussy, he doesn’t know where he starts or ends. he embraces your thighs shaking around him, pulling one leg to loop it over his shoulder.

he loves whorshipping you as you’re fucked dumb and cock hungry. he praises and kisses every inch of your body, he doesn’t fail to tell you how beautiful you are and he makes you feel pretty and loved. he coos into your ear, “you’re doing so well for me” “tight little cunt all for me”

he pulls out and hovers over you for a bit, forearms either side of your body as he leans up, grinning as he admires what a mess you look when you’re fucked dumb. he’ll tease you with the sweetest smile of his face, telling you that you can’t take him anymore and that he should run you a bath but when you shut him up by smashing your lips down on his, he slams back into you, moaning against your lips, his hips moving at a more rapid pace

he laughs when you start uttering nonsense. he tuts, seeing how drunk you can truly become from his cock. he calls you his cum slut, his baby, his bunny, his angel. he fucks you dumb softer than any of the other guys would.

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yoongsisbae · 5 months

Text

Seven Days a Week | JJK

idol!jungkook x noona!reader. Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week.

Happy holidays! I'm thankful for my sweet readers who will forgive me for taking so long to post (I hope) :'D

Warnings: pwp (so basically like the song), bdsm because I feel like it's on brand, jealous/clingy/possessive jk because also on brand, dubcon, soft yandere, jk is sf obsessed with u, he kinda toxic tbh so if you don't like that don't read this lol, rough sex, voyeur, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation, voyeur, tied up, sweet aftercare eventually lol

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Jungkook wound himself around your body, held you tighter than he should. If he could bring you closer to him, he would. He couldn't help himself, sometimes, he wanted to make you cry out, make it hurt, so he could be assured of your devotion, that you'd still love him, that you wouldn't leave him at his worst. It eased his anxious heart when you leaned into his rough embrace instead of shying away, looked back at him with glistening eyes full of tears, gripped him back just as tightly and cried a soft moan.

He couldn't help himself, Jungkook loved you, and he wound himself up over thoughts of you leaving him for someone better, for someone with more time for you, someone who could show their love better than Jungkook could. Jungkook could only whisper his love to you when no one else was looking, show how much he needed you behind closed doors, in dark rooms, hidden from the public always.

Jungkook wanted to scream out to the world his love for you, but he couldn't, for so many reasons he shouldn't. It wasn't fair and it made him mad, made him jealous, so he made you scream his name instead, into pillows, behind his palm, underneath him, just hoping it would be enough to keep you with him forever.

He wanted you to ache for him night after night, think about him as much as he thought about you, at every minute, every second, every day.

MONDAY

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment.

He smiles to himself as he takes off his boots. The smell of home-cooking hits him immediately. Jungkook can hear you in the kitchen making dinner, chopping vegetables and singing.

He creeps closer, watching as you dance to music playing loudly, and unbeknowest to you, putting on a rather nice show for your mischievous boyfriend.

Jungkook can't help himself, and honestly you should be more aware of your surroundings. He's teaching you a lesson!

"Boo!"

You crumple onto the floor, screaming like you've just seen a ghost.

You smack your terror of a boyfriend as Jungkook joins you on the floor, doubling over in a fit of laughter. "You're going to give me a heart attack!" You clutch your racing heart, glaring at your giggly attacker.

"Yah! How did you not hear me? What if I had been a burglar?!"

"...in this building?" You shove him.

"What if you were alone at your place? You need to pay attention. You could have been taken advantage of!"

You cross your arms. "Shouldn't you still be at work?"

Jungkook's eyes sparkle with mirth as he helps you up. "Should I go back?" He laughs and kisses you when you pout, breathing you in.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs into your neck, hands gripping your ass, pulling you into him. "Why are you dressed up? Planning on going out while I'm at work?"

"I'm not dressed up," you argue. Your face feels hot as his eyes rake over your body. "And no, of course not, I wanted to look nice for you."

"Good." Jungkook buries his head in your shoulder, taking his time slipping his hands under the hem of your dress and exploring your body. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you in this dress but me, okay?"

He kisses you, licks across your lips, swallowing up your protests. "I'm not done cooking," you mumble between heated kisses.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the burner. "It can wait. Right now, I want something else to eat," he teases.

"But-"

He nips at your lips, rolls his tongue in your mouth until you're gasping. "I'm not hungry. Well..." his gaze travels down to your lips and then lower. "I'm hungry for you, Noona," he whispers in your ear, hugging you to him tightly.

You let a moan escape you as his breath tickles your ear, and he lets out a low heavy grunt, nipping at your lobe. He wants you closer, he grips your ass, yanking you into his growing erection.

You kiss him, giving in. Jungkook is always so very good at distracting you.

And his distractions often hit you like a whirlwind. Your idol boyfriend can easily turn up the heat from zero to a hundred with his adept hands and talented tongue.

Those hands roam your body, that tongue plays with your own. And before you know it, Jungkook is easily pressing two digits into you.

The sudden intrusion stings even in your growing wetness, filling you with pressure that turns into inescapable pleasure, sending trembles through you.

Jungkook's lips never leave yours. He loves kissing you until you're whining for him to slow down, heaving in air in the seconds his lips part from yours, your soft lips becoming swollen and sensitive the longer he stays pressed to you, until you're pushing against his chest to let you breath.

Jungkook loves the way your body squirms against him, he grabs your wrist, moving his mouth down to nip and suck at your neck as his fingers press deeper and faster into you. No matter how many times he does it, it feels like fireworks, electrifying you, an overwhelming touch that makes your legs buckle and your body shake.

You welcomed his rough touches. You couldn't pinpoint the day his usual gentleness became something more, the hesitation in his movements became confident hands holding onto your throat and deep rough thrusts he was no longer holding back, or when your stilted moans became loud and shameless, but you craved seeing that side of him, one you could only bring out of him.

Perhaps you shouldn't feed into your younger boyfriend's demanding nature so much. When he held your hand against your back, nipped at your shoulder, you should have put your foot down and told him to stop and let you finish cooking, but it felt so much better to wrap your legs around him instead and kiss him back, to let him move your body the way he wanted and give into everything. Pleasure, pain, both made your heart race the same, rose the temperature in your body almost indistinguishably.

Jungkook groans, low, hissing, whimpering. He is a vocal lover, it was never a surprising fact and only excited you more to hear how much you affected him, made you gush wetness at his deepened voice.

Jungkook groans even louder as you coat his fingers in more slick, thumb circling over your clit as he rocks his hand against your core, making you quiver and let out the most obscene sounds Jungkook's ever heard. Your sweet voice always delighted him, but this, made him rock hard.

"I missed you, Noona," Jungkook whines against your throat. Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sucks harder on the sensitive skin of your neck, making sure to mark you so others know they can't have you, so even though you can't let them know Jungkook is yours, you will have something to show off his devotion.

If Jungkook could not be with you out in the open, he would make sure your body revealed his presence nonetheless. So many times he would grip your thighs, dig his fingers into your flesh, so you would have to cover your legs from prying eyes or admit you've been held, touched, fondled to any man who dared to look at you. Just the thought of their eyes on you made Jungkook press down harder.

This tiny dress, this low cut hem and short skirt wouldn't hide his marks. He swallows down his growing irritation when he thinks of you leaving his home in something so revealing. Part of him wants to rip it off you, hide it so you'll leave in his sweats and hoodie, so you'll have part of him around you all day until he can hold you again.

Jungkook wanted to watch you fall apart on his fingers, but he had riled himself up too much now, he needed to silence his worries again, he needed to feel you around his cock instead, right now, in his kitchen. He quickly turned you around, hugged your body close to him and replaced his fingers with his thick length instead.

You loved his soft caresses, but the desperation in the way he wanted to bury himself inside your body made you burn all over. "I missed you too," you whined, pressing your hips back into him.

You cried out from the burn as you stretched around his length, gripping the counter as Jungkook filled you fuller. Jungkook fucked into you over and over, letting the frustrations of his work day out, forgetting everything but the warmth of your body, until he felt like he was bursting, then he pulled out and slapped your ass hard, pulling you into his arms.

He decided he would have his meal in the bedroom instead.

TUESDAY

You sit in Jungkook's studio, enjoying your day off with him. He's working on his newest song. You catch him staring at you and it makes you smile. He chews on his bottom lip as he mumbles the chorus to himself and you stretch your sore limbs.

Jungkook twirls his pen out of habit, singing the soulful melody softly, restless legs knocking into yours as he taps his foot.

"This is putting me in the mood," you tease when he goes over another rather scandalous line in his song.

"Yeah?" he smiles.

"Your voice is so sexy."

He smirks, tapping his pen. "Come here."

You definitely promised a certain leader you would not be a distraction when visiting. Jungkook leans back in his studio chair, spreading his legs and instead of repeating himself, he taps his knee impatiently.

What if someone comes in? What if they hear you? What if you get caught? You glance toward the studio door. "We shouldn't..."

Jungkook can't help himself when it comes to you. How can he stop himself when you say it like that? Breathy and low, and a touch of playfulness in your voice, a cheeky half smile across your full lips? He licks across his own lips, adjusting his lip ring, imagining all the things he'd like to do to you in his studio. Your gaze follows his actions, your fingers absentmindedly brushing across your mouth in response.

"Ride me." Jungkook grunts, adjusting himself. "No one will find out if you keep quiet," he whispers, smiling deviously.

You scoff, standing up and settling yourself down in his lap despite your apprehensions. "Just kissing."

"Kissing, annnnd?" He teases, grabbing you roughly to bring you closer.

"We can't," you groan when his hips press up into yours, his strong grip on your body tightening.

"So what if someone catches us? You're mine, aren't you?" he mutters.

"Yes, but-"

"I want you," he whines. "I need you. Please Noona, give it to me." He slides his hand in between your legs, fingertips dancing over your panties, pressing against the wet fabric at your center.

"I can't stop thinking about how good your pussy would feel." He steadily rubs across the sheer cloth, "Fuuuuck, let me feel you just for a second."

Your breath hitches at his obscene words, how can you deny him now? "A quick one," you kiss him with no time to waste, hiking up your skirt higher. "Just for a second," you remind him.

Jungkook grunts in satisfaction, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down and exposing his already solid erection, tongue exploring your mouth as if the taste of you is the only cure for the hunger inside of him.

"Slow," you tell him, rubbing your pussy over his leaking cock, but he only smirks and pulls your hips down on his cock, swallowing up your whimpers.

He thrusts up fast, fucking you hard, enjoying the sight of you as you bite down screams of ecstasy, unable to keep yourself completely quiet. It's like a game, one he intends on winning, and one he certainly has the stamina and strength to win, but your tightness is proving to be formidable at unraveling his conquest of you.

He drags your shirt up, yanks your bra down until he unveils your perky nipples and he is quick to devour you, suck until you are all but overcome by the fevered attention of your body.

Until you are overcome, coming hard on his cock, shaking against him, quivering for him to relent as he does a victory lap across your body, pinching and sucking and fucking you until you are boneless in his arms, pliable to his whims.

The way you mold yourself to him, surrender your body to him, sends Jungkook over the edge quickly. It's all he wants, it's all of you.

WEDNESDAY

"Noona, it's been so long since we had sex," Jungkook groans.

"We had sex yesterday, you crazy!" you remark, giving up on the movie in front of you.

"Yeah, that was yesterday, we haven't had sex today at all." Jungkook runs his hands down the curves of your body, enticing you even further away from the action on the television.

It works, his hands touching your body, his softly spoken words of encouragement, so needy and persistent, rile you up to the point where you can’t help but give in to Jungkook.

The tips of his fingers are electric as they run down your skin. It's like you are hard wired for him, turned on by him so easily like a flip of a switch.

And you can feel his switch turning up too, pressing against your leg, growing bigger and bigger and more demanding to be touched.

Jungkook was practically hardwired for you too. It's probably why he gets hard just sitting beside you, so suddenly when you are just cuddling or talking. And like a switch being flipped, his whole demeanor changes, gone is your cute cuddly boyfriend. Jungkook's eyes go dark and determined, he breathes out low and seductive, and you can't help but fall into him further.

The way he explores your body and groans deeper sends jolts of energy through you, his strong hands caressing your stomach and sides, carefully pushing up your shirt and grabbing your tits, his body pressed tight against you as he moves on top, in between your legs, your heat and his meeting and fitting together so perfectly; it makes you frenzied for him.

You finally reach for him, grip his shoulders in a vice and arch into him, needing him impossibly closer.

Jungkook presses his head deep between the valley of your breasts and inhales raggedly, it’s shocking and makes you practically delirious with lust. You thought your sex drive was abnormal, but your younger boyfriend really could go all day and all night, probably every hour on the hour, if you let him.

”Please…” you rasp.

”Please what, baby?”

You bite your lip, too shy to ask him. Jungkook grins. He loves when you act like this, needy and whiny for him, cute and shy.

You may be older than him, but Jungkook’s always been the dominate one in the relationship, and if it weren’t for a few very calculated ‘y/n Noona’s amongst company, your friends would have never guessed he was the youngest between you.

You acted like you hated when he called you ‘Noona,’ as it was a sore reminder that you were at a disadvantage by societal standards, but really, alone together, when Jungkook softly whines for you, it’s just another switch that brightens your love for him, your desire for him….

“Please, fuck me,” you whisper, barely audible.

”What, baby?”

You wrap your legs tighter around his lean waist, diving your hand in between your bodies to reiterate your desperate need for him.

Jungkook moans deeply and lays heavy over you, head nestled back into the softness of your body. He lets his tongue lick across your neck and shoulder as you wrap your fingers tightly around his erection.

With his eyes no longer penetrating you, Jungkook falling apart over you, your head less cloudy by his intoxicating attractiveness, you can whisper what you want most directly in his ear. “Please fuck me. I’m so wet for you.”

Jungkook groans, “Fu-uck.”

”Fill me up with your cock.”

He lifts himself up. ”Yeah, you want my cum?”

His eyes rack over your body. You nod quickly, wavering in your confidence.

As if somehow your boyfriend knew the insecurities surfacing inside you, he runs his hand softly over your cheek and down your neck, cupping your breast. “You’re so sexy, so good to me,” he breathes out, barely containing himself from ravaging you. “Want me to fuck you full of my cum, Noona?” He smirks, hand placed back against your cheek, thumb finding it’s way inside your mouth to press against your bottom lip.

He knows it already, he knows you.

”Yes,” you whisper breathlessly, grinding against his cock. “I want you, fu-uck —oh— please.”

Jungkook dives in for a kiss as you guide his cock through your slippery folds. He swallows up your moans eagerly as he thrusts his hips to meet yours.

You choke on your own cries, the air knocked out of you by his deep thrusts as you tighten yourself around him, holding onto him like a lifeline.

You really could drown in him, let yourself float deeper in the ocean of Jungkook’s love until his slippery embrace was all that surrounded you and all that you wanted. It was easy, natural, to sink deeper, to love him like you needed him to breathe.

One day you’ll reach the climax to that movie, but not tonight. Tonight, his climax is the ending you excitedly reach for.

THURSDAY

Sometimes you went days without him, some nights you would be fast asleep before Jungkook came home, some mornings he would be gone before you woke.

So each moment you had with the famous singer you treasured. But…

You also have to admit, there are some moments where you just want to…

Smack your boyfriend in the back of his beautiful head for being so aggravating!

You get so little time with him…not enough…and today Jungkook chose to spend that time giving you…the silent treatment!?

“Why are you mad? Talk to me.” You ask, after riding home with him in silence.

Jungkook bites his tongue.

“I’m leaving!” You groan, turning on your heel and heading back towards the front door. You didn’t want to leave, but being ignored by your boyfriend after missing him for so long was far far worse.

“Where are you going?!” He yells. “Going to see Jaehyun!?”

“What? No?! Wait, what?!” You stammer, perplexed.

Jungkook crosses his arms and looks away muttering to himself.

“JUNGKOOK, WHY ARE YOU SO MAD?”

“WHY DID YOU LET HIM FEED YOU?” Jungkook bursts out.

“Huh? Who? Jaehyun?!”

“Yes!”

“When did he-”

“The wrap!”

Your mind runs through tonight’s dinner party where you met up with Jungkook and his friends. You hadn’t even wanted to go, things like that made you anxious, but you missed your boyfriend like crazy and didn’t want to wait a second longer to see him.

In places like that, you had to make sure to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length, you never knew when a close moment in public could be used against you; so the few, the better.

You sat next to his friend Jaehyun, and he might have helped you make a wrap, now that you think about it…

The others teased Jungkook, noticing the irony of the situation when Jaehyun helped you pull away two perilla leaves stuck together, and Jungkook whined and acted angry and eventually laughed along.

Well, at least you thought it had been an act…

Clearly, it was not.

“Jungkook, really, Jaehyun? You’re jealous of him?”

“I'm not jealous!” And then he can’t help but add, “When we first met, whose picture did I find in your phone?”

“....I don't r-remember?” You definitely do remember.

He looks at you pointedly.

“…Jaehyun’s?”

He glares at you, seemingly furious at the fact that he made his point.

“Okay? So, what? You think this whole time, I’ve just been pining for Jeong Yuno? Just biding my time with you until I can be with Jeong Yuno?!”

“No-” he pouts.

“You don't believe me when I tell you I love you? You think I'm a liar?” You ask, on a tirade now.

“No-no. I just-”

“What?!”

“I'm sor-”

“Jungkook, I haven't seen you for over two weeks. Do you know how much I looked forward to tonight, to finally be with you? To see you? to spend time with you? The only reason I went to dinner is because you asked me to!”

Jungkook stays stubbornly quiet.

“I should go.”

Jungkook hugs you from behind before you can reach the door, pressing himself to your back. “No, don’t go, please don't go.”

You reach for the door handle. “I want to leave.” You didn't. You much rather enjoyed the heat of Jungkook’s body wrapped around you. But you’re mad now too and wanted to make a point.

“No.”

“Let me go.”

“I can't.”

Jungkook kisses your neck. He extinguishes your anger with each little peck, kisses like raindrops against your skin, fizzling out your heated disposition.

You turn around, glaring into his eyes. He would hate it if you ignored him like that, he would whine about it for hours! And Jungkook is still mad, it’s a hard emotion for him to just let go of, even when he believes you. He had worked himself up thinking of his friend and you, imaginary scenarios where you left him for someone easier to be with, someone better than Jungkook.

He kept catching moments where his friend and you held each other’s attention. The way Jaehyun and you looked at each other and giggled when ‘it’ happened.

Argh he hated it!!!!

Jaehyun’s chopstick touched yours…he basically indirectly kissed you at that point! The next time you meet him, what’s gonna happen next, are you gonna fuck each other-

”What’s wrong now?” You whine out.

Jungkook gripped your head in his hands, smashing his lips into yours so fiercely you squeal in surprise.

It almost works, his kiss and his body that you ached for all this time. You don’t hate him, you love him, you love his stupid over reactions and his possessive nature and his passion-

“Ow!”

You smack him away when he bites your bottom lip harshly.

“I'm sorry.” Jungkook is not sorry.

And you know it. You glare at him, grip his neck and kiss him roughly, biting down on his bottom lip, paparazzi photos be damned. Jungkook hisses in pain, gripping you back harsher. You try to move away, close your mouth tightly, knowing he will try to bite you back harder, but he becomes desperate to kiss you, have your mouth, your tongue, have all of you, gripping your jaw tight, pressing so hard into you that your lips finally part for him.

You struggle and whimper and it only makes Jungkook more fevered. He yanks you off your feet before you know it, dragging you away from the exit, from the possibility of leaving him alone-

No no no, you had been so far away from him for so long. He needed you here. Right here with him. He needed your mouth on him and your skin on him, he needed to have you, and he especially needed to keep you away from anyone else.

His teeth drag along your skin. Jungkook is harsher than he usually is, which is saying a lot, and his rough touches make you feverish and aching for what’s to come and questioning if you want to continue. You dig your nails into Jungkook’s wide back, he sucks marks into your skin without any hesitation.

You squirm, his overwhelming affection rips through you and leaves you tingling, pulsing, gushing. He touches your body like he owns it, and he tells you so, grunting “mine” against your heated skin.

You're going to come for him, you're going to bare your body for him, you're meant for him and no one else, he can't take the thought of you with anyone else, he can't…

He kisses you like he has something to prove, wanting to make up the hours not with you.

You push against him but he's solid like a rock, he’s not going to move from on top of you.

He grunts, smelling you. “I don’t want anyone else to touch you but me.” “He didn’t touch me,” you remind him.

“His chopstick touched yours-”

You giggle, half groaning. “His ‘chopstick’ did not touch me.”

“His actual chopstick.” Jungkook’s anger is still evident, even when his eyes soften, his gaze darkens again.

“Okay, okay. Just don’t ever ignore me like that,” you pout. “You would hate it if I did that to you.”

”I know. I’m sorry, Noona.” He kisses you softly in apology. And once again, his kisses become rougher, more urgent, until you’re yanking at each other’s clothes again, squeezing handfuls of each other, becoming louder and louder in contest.

Perhaps you are too forgiving, but no one is perfect and yet your boyfriend comes very close.

Perhaps you just want to appreciate these moments, so sweet and delicious, forget the sour ones, and your appetite is too ravenous, you hungered for him, you drooled for a taste of him.

“So wet...Noona, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s fingers sped up inside you. His other hand tangled itself in your hair, kept you from avoiding his gaze.

You gripped his thick cock in response. “So hard,” you moan.

You match each other’s pace, an unspoken race to see who reaches the finish line first. Jungkook refuses to lose, so he hikes you leg up higher, pushing his cock into you instead, setting his own brutal pace.

He fucks you hard, until you cry out the way he likes and shake exactly how he wants.

He circles your clit until you’re trembling. You grip his wrist but he's stronger than you and it doesn't deter him, digits pumping inside you at an unrelenting pace, intent on punishing you for the earlier night, Jungkook thinks you deserve a little punishment as long as you are enjoying it.

You clench around his cock so tight it’s painful for him to try to hold back any longer, but it’s an ache he accepts for you, like the ache he feels in his heart when you are not around, it’s all worth it to hold you in his arms and watch you fall into bliss.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Kookie.”

”Again?”

“…We’re gonna have to change these sheets.”

FRIDAY

Jungkook set his suitcase down and walked quietly through his apartment, not wanting to wake you. He found you sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, cute as ever. He gave you a quick kiss before showering. When your boyfriend came back to you, you had contorted yourself in another position, arm hanging off the bed. He moved you gently and cuddled into your side, finally feeling at home and at peace in your warmth.

His hectic lifestyle meant this often happened, even when he had you, you were already gone far away into dreamland, and it would be Jungkook's turn to wait for you. He didn't mind it, even if your mind was resting, your body was fully aware of his presence.

He rests his head on your shoulder and runs his fingertips along your body, focusing on your nipples, teasing them until they stand erect.

It was his night time ritual at this point, sometimes he'd gently pull your shirt up and admire the way they hardened slowly. Sometimes he'd lick them, desperate for a taste of you. He would play with your body until sleep overtook him, until your softness and smell and the comfort of your presence lulled him to sleep. Hotel rooms without you were such a cold loneliness in comparison, he needed to feel that heat inside you.

And occasionally, like tonight, he would reach in between your legs and softly caress your folds for even more of a taste of you, hoping to rouse you awake so he could bury himself inside the heat of you.

"I love you." Jungkook kisses the side of your open mouth and rubs your pussy slowly.

You were so tired you couldn't even find the energy to open your eyes, you just grunted softly, acknowledging his doting presence.

Jungkook slowly presses two digit inside your leaking hole, lying his head down on your chest. He alternates his attention between your breast and your cunt, lazily licking and dipping his digits inside you, occasionally rutting against you with his semi-firm cock, content only in the exploration of your body.

Until eventually, your arm finds its way into his hair, petting the soft ringlets of Jungkook's damp strands. "Feel good, Noona?" he murmurs.

"Mmmm."

Your eyes were still closed, your jaw still slack, part of you still present inside your dreams. But your legs widened and your cunt tightened around his digits, your walls sucking his fingers in.

"Can I fuck you?"

"Mmmmm."

You were dripping wet at this point, and it takes only one more squeeze from your silky walls for Jungkook to roll himself on top, pressing the head of his cock into you.

Jungkook lies on top of you, relishing in the feel of your pussy, tight and wet around his cock.

He almost falls asleep, the way your entire presence envelopes him makes him feel so relaxed and safe. After a long plane ride home, he wanted nothing more than to sink into you further.

But you whimper softly, gushing wetness around his member, so he gives you what your body wants, give it to you slowly, steadily, building the pleasure up for both of you. He could do this all night: rock into you, hold you and lie with you.

But you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his back and whimper, kissing his forehead, moaning out loud.

Jungkook finally lifts himself up, thrusting into you hard. Normally you would have squirmed and cried out at his sudden roughness, but your sleepy body rocked against his sheets and you arched your back into him instead.

"Fuuck. Noona, can I come inside?"

"Mm."

Jungkook spills into you, cock pulsing against your walls, filling your pussy full of his cum, then falls on top of you, spent, sighing against you.

You arch into him further, wanting release but too tired to voice your needs.

"Let me rest," he murmurs tiredly, slowly pressing his fingers inside your throbbing core, plugging his cum inside you. "Just for a bit, I promise, I'll make you cum, Noona." Jungkook rests his head next to you and closes his eyes, fingers stilling inside your walls.

It's almost torturous, but you don't even realize how needy you've become. You softly lift your hips up, rutting against his palm, until your dreams take you away again.

You dream of him, of course. You dream of his tight muscular body pressed against yours, his soft lips and sweet voice whispering dirty things into your ear. You dream of Jungkook fucking you until you scream and cry out his name over and over again. You dream of his fingers deep inside your walls, teasing out your orgasm until you're shaking, convulsing in unimaginable pleasure.

And suddenly your whole body stiffens and your legs lock around Jungkook's head as you come violently on his tongue.

You lift your head up and see your boyfriend smiling wide, head resting against your mound. "Morning, baby."

SATURDAY

"Jungkook, help! Jungkook!"

Jungkook comes running into the room, panicked at your yelling, and then he finds you...

…and begins to laugh.

You can hear your boyfriend's hysterics behind you. "This is not funny! Help!" you grunt, annoyed.

Jungkook sees you, legs kicking, body upside down over the armrest of his sectional, stuck in between the couch and the end table. "I tried to find where the cell phone charger went," you whine.

You push up on your elbow, but you have put yourself in such an awkward position you can't catch enough momentum to lift yourself up. "Heeelp! Pull me up!"

Jungkook surveys the situation closer and you closer. With the help of gravity your night shirt has ridden down over your behind, presenting the most enticing view of your bright red panties to your still laughing boyfriend.

You grunt and try to push yourself up again, palms pressing against the wood flooring, but your center of gravity is too low to lift yourself alone and you can not change your position in the cramped space without bumping your head. Your boyfriend places his hands on your hips and you sigh in relief, until-

"Hey!" you yelp. Your very mischievous boyfriend starts to massage your backside, kneading your suppleness, moving closer and closer to…

"Fuck, you did this on purpose, didn't you?" Jungkook groans, gripping you tightly, two big handfuls of your bare ass. "Damn…"

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "I'm not!" Jungkook slaps your backside hard, his palm spreading across the arch in your back. "Hey!" You squeal. "Help me up!"

"And if I fuck you instead?"

"Or you could help me up and we can-" your arms are getting tired, "-ugh— go to the bed?"

He pats your backside again, "Get up then," he laughs.

"I can't," you whine.

“Aww you really can’t lift yourself?”

“C’mon, you’re making me feel old,” you pout.

He yanks you up. Just a bit. Just to position yourself better for his viewing pleasure.

“Try again,” he laughs.

You straighten your arms once again, lifting your body. You almost made it, so close, but your backside collides with the growing bulge in Jungkook’s pants and you fall down over the couch’s arch again. Is he j-just over you? Watching you?

“Sorry, Noona,” he pauses, “but can’t we try it out?” He resumes the kneading, moving closer and closer to your core, until his nimble fingers slide over your slit and under your panties, pulling them down.

Jungkook’s proposal is tempting, his touches feel good, and although you and your boyfriend have christened most of the areas in his apartment, this is definitely a new endeavor.

“I guess- oh!” Jungkook presses himself all the way inside you. Had he been ready this whole time?

His pace is quick, not wanting to waste any time. He thrusts into you deep, the hard cushion of his couch making it so there is no escaping the length of his cock and the deepness of his ruts. There’s no escaping him, not that you want to…

You can’t do much of anything but hold yourself up, keep your arms straight, be good for him and take his cock.

It makes your toes tingle realizing how trapped you were to his whims as you let yourself be used by him. You wonder what Jungkook’s thinking, why he’s so enthusiastic, does he enjoy the fact that he has you helpless, unable to fight back? Does he like using you like this, a hole to fuck?

Is it depraved that you are enjoying this so much, that you are so turned on, that you’re nearing climax already.

His hand spreads your cheeks wider so he can admire himself disappear inside you. His thumb presses against your other hole as he takes in all of you, all his.

His thumb presses inside as he grips your ass tighter until its disappeared inside you like his cock. You’ve never felt so full before, so thoroughly used. Jungkook can feel your tightness, your gushing wetness. He listens to the heightened pitches in your moans. He’s nearing his high as well…

His cock swells as he moves faster, finding the pace that he likes most, cock rubbing your slippery walls at the perfect angle to send him to climax.

“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, shoving himself inside you deeper, cursing at how good you feel wrapped around him. He could never get tired of this, your silky walls and soft skin and the smell of your arousal consuming him. It makes him addicted, he’s addicted to you.

“Oh shit,” he pulls out, finishing across your exposed ass and finally finally Jungkook lifts you up and lays you across his couch, taking space next to you to relax.

“Fuck, I liked that.”

”Yeah?” You hum.

“Noona, I want to tie you up.”

Your cunt clenches at his confession.

“Hmm tomorrow.”

SUNDAY

"The food was so good," you hum, "thank you." You squeeze your boyfriend's hand as you walk hand in hand to his motorcycle. The plates presented to you were so beautiful, tasted amazing, and the whole night felt so romantic. The cozy atmosphere made every moment feel so special, made you fall in love with Jungkook all over again.

And stepping into the cool night air made the end of the night feel like a weightless dream. Walking hand in hand with your boyfriend under the stars as the wind picks up, you think this must be how birds feel flying together. You feel so free.

"I'm fine with takeout for next time, you know. You don't have to be so...extravagant." You sigh.

"It's our anniversary. You deserved a real date."

You chew on your lip, bringing up the giant elephant you tried to ignore all evening. "What if someone took a photo-"

Your idol boyfriend kisses your worries away. "That's what the private room was for, baby."

You fidget anxiously. "What if one of the servers recognized you, or the kitchen staff-"

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling, "My friends come here with their girlfriends all the time."

"Yeah, but they're not you."

Jungkook hugs you, leaning the weight of his body into yours. You stumble into the side of his bike and giggle but hug him tighter.

Under the dark night, the yellow street lamps, you give Jungkook a chaste kiss.

He smiles, licking his lips and kissing you again.

"What if someone sees!"

"The restaurant has been closed for over an hour, everyone's gone home," he murmurs into your lips.

"Not the staff," you mumble as he kisses your neck.

"No one is around," he whispers teasingly. He wants you, here, now, all of you around him. "This might be the only time we can..."

Maybe it was the romance of the night, or your need to please him after such a grand gesture, or your ache to indulge in him and his irresistible charm, but you couldn't find it in you to stop Jungkook's advances, even when his hand went under your dress.

He grips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his hip.

You lean against the seat of his motorcycle. This is crazy, this is insane. It's like he's asking to get caught. He's insane. He's...so sexy.

You hide your face into his shoulder, listening to him quickly unzip his pants.

It's so out in the open, so impulsive. The bike's metal is cold against your thighs and Jungkook is so so hot. You grip his biceps, nails digging into his big muscles. The angle is awkward and the stretch is tight, and his first thrust in knocks the wind out of you.

Fuck...fuuck...it feels so good, he smells so nice, and your adrenaline is so high over the thought of you both getting caught you think you may come with only a few more deep plunges of his cock inside your tight walls.

Until you think you might have caught something out of the corner of your eye and you hastily stop him and plunk his helmet right on top of Jungkook's head, concealing his identity.

Jungkook hugs you close and you laugh when his helmet knocks into your forehead. "C'mon you crazy. Let's get out of here and finish what we started, hmm?"

Jungkook was worked up, painfully hard, and you very naughtily only made it so much worse for him on the ride home with your body pressed tight against his back and your hands caressing his abs down to his cock. He almost takes you again once he arrives in the safety of his garage. He almost takes you in the elevator when it feels like time stretches the closer you get to his floor. He almost takes you right against his front door as you play with his belt buckle and nip at his neck while he fumbles to open the lock.

And then back in seclusion again, back home, he can have you finally...

Jungkook drops you onto soft sheets, crawling over you.

"I want to tie you up." It is a special day.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" he smiles cutely, or perhaps deviously, it's so hard to tell sometimes with your boyfriend.

"Yeah," you kiss him, "Happy Anniversary." You kiss him again. "Please, tie me up, Jungkook," you whisper in his ear.

"Fuck." Jungkook has been practicing his knots, and he decides he wants your hands behind your back, one of your legs tied to his headboard. He secures a knot under your knee, spreading your legs.

Perfect. You're perfect. You were perfect tonight, the way your eyes sparkled during your date with him, perfect when you cheekily teased him and that sparkle turned mischievous, and now you're so perfect as you look at him shyly, your eyes shining in anticipation at what he's going to do next to you.

Jungkook can't wait to make those eyes cry in pure bliss tonight.

He kept the expensive lingerie you wore tonight for him on. He pushes your panties to the side so he can run his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness to push back into you. You're so wet for him, already soaking from the night's previous activities.

"How's it feel, you okay?" he asks, "Nothing too tight?"

"No," you mewl out, squirming against his knots.

"Ugh, Noona...you’re so fucking wet," he grunts, quickening his pace as he watches his fingers disappear inside you. He presses down on your untied thigh to hold you still and hooks his fingers inside you, pads prodding around until you arch your back, responding to his stroking of you.

When your boyfriend sets his mind on something, there's nothing that can stop him, and Jungkook's decided he is going to make you fall apart, put you back together, mold you for him.

He strokes you with his fingers until your thighs are shaking. You grip onto your bindings, let the rope around your fingers ground you as you tighten your hold and clench down on Jungkook's digits.

"Ahh that's it, look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty. You're my fucking girl, all fucking mine."

"Oh, Jungkook." You're so close, it's building, tickling and deep and so overpowering, letting go is the only thing your body can do now. You spasm around Jungkook's digits, so tight around his fingers they finally stop their unrelenting movement. He pulls down the cup of your bra to massage your breasts until you fully relax and your harsh breathing becomes only soft pants.

You're tired but you open your mouth wide and invite him in when Jungkook crawls higher, positioning his throbbing cock against your lips. He slides his length over your tongue and down your throat until you're choking, gagging. And he fucks your mouth again and again, until you're sloppy, crying from his thickness, at how tight it feels, at how good it feels to see his brows furrow and his tongue play with the ring on his lower lip as he watches you choke down his length.

"You like that? You like being treated like a slut, yeah?" You whimper against his cock, thick and hot on your tongue. "My dirty little slut."

He grunts out louder, fucking your throat faster, deeper. Your high pitched whimpers match his moaning, becoming louder and more protracted, until he stills, his hips stuttering, and you start to feel his hot cum pool in your mouth. Jungkook slumps down against you, lying his head on your stomach.

You let his juices flow out of your lips and down your chin as you take in breaths. You're so warm and soft between your legs, everything about you is soft, your skin, the curves of your body, and he enjoys grabbing at you, holding you in his arms. Your slick is covering your pussy, and Jungkook starts his ministrations again, fingers deep in your sex.

"Noona, you look so sexy." You look down at your handsome boyfriend, smiling in between your legs. You feel so vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to shy away from his gaze, but the fluttering inside you jumps to your heart when Jungkook smiles and mouths 'I love you.'

He fingers you skillfully, and you don't even realize how close you were until you're coming again, body programmed to give Jungkook what he craves. He continues to play with your pussy, stroking against your sensitive walls. It becomes too much, inescapable pleasure, burning you from the inside out. The sounds of sex fills his quiet bedroom, the noise of your slick, your whimpering, your cries. He closes his eyes and revels in it, taking in your sweet sounds and the smell of you.

The pressure is too much, "I can't, no more," you whine.

"I'm not done. Be a a good girl for me, Noona." You clench around him, at his words spoken so heatedly yet so softly.

"No- m-more," you cry out.

"I said I'm not done, understand?"

You shudder, writhing under him, your bindings pulling tight around your limbs. He replaces his fingers with his cock. You clench around him tighter as suctions his lips to your nipple, sucking harshly, thumb pressing against your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good. I could fuck you every day." He finds your tied wrists, interlacing his fingers in yours, rocking his hips into your core so deep the pleasure blinds you.

You breathe through your teeth, limbs locked at the pleasure inflicted across your body.

You cum in silent ecstasy, drenching his cock in your juices. Jungkook's release follows you almost immediately, "Yes —ah— yes." His breathy words echo in your ears, every other thought lost in his presence.

Jungkook finishes and quickly unties you, pulling you into his embrace. "Let's go shower?"

"I think...a bath...my legs," you pant.

Jungkook kisses you sweetly and nods, lifting you in his arms.

You sigh and rest against him. You feel secure and safe with Jungkook, in his strong embrace, the way he holds you easily, you know he's got you and he'll never let anything happen to you. It's probably why you let him get away with so much, because he always takes care of your needs in the end, makes you feel loved like no other.

You gently kiss his neck, cuddled against him as his large tub fills with water.

The filling bathtub makes it easier on your tired limbs and you turn around, straddling your boyfriend.

"Mmm," Jungkook smiles against your lips as you place a series of quick kisses against his mouth. "Just relax, Noona."

"What? You don't want to?" you giggle.

"I just want to relax with you."

"Well maybe I don't want to take no for an answer," you tease.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," you sigh, letting your body slump into him more.

"I don't think I can go another round tonight," he laughs.

"Really, you sure you're okay?"

"Ahh maybe I'm getting old too."

"TOO?"

Jungkook laughs and hugs your tightly, tickling you before you anger becomes too palpable.

"I love you."

"I love you too, old man."

---

Let me know your favorite day :3

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #bts imagines

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spookykoolkat · 7 months

Text

kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.

kinktober day three - dumbification

pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader

wc: 9.0k

summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!

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IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50.

so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down.

joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you.

but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does.

he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up.

it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.

but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.

shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.

you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you.

you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt.

joel.

“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table.

“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing.

you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door.

“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes.

“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.

“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv.

“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off.

“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass.

“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath.

you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed.

it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you.

“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug.

joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.

“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom.

joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts.

“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.

joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep.

you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them.

you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day.

the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills.

you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.

“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face.

“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.

you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly.

“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.

“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his.

“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly.

“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.

you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you.

he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments.

“so damn pink,”

“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”

“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?”

which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him.

but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything.

“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it.

“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing.

your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.

never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.

you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance.

you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him.

“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth.

“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off.

you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment.

joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.

he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.

he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor.

joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways.

but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.

but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did.

you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim.

he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything.

the opportunity showed itself, he just took it.

now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight.

you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.

he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically.

he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole.

he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum.

he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt.

“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do.

“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now.

“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more.

“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so.

“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room.

“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite.

“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently?

“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side.

“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him.

“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him.

“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass.

“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead.

“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished.

he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be.

“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed.

“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you.

“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.

“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.

“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth.

“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?

“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions.

“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask. you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up.

“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it.

“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it.

he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet.

“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him.

“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.

but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him.

“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you.

“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought.

“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him.

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joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were?

he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place.

after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel.

one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine.

you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself.

you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find.

you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex.

you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that.

in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.

he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.

you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.

“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered.

“it’s joel,” he said and you paused.

“joel?” you asked.

you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him.

now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted.

“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you.

“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him.

“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly.

“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight.

“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight.

“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.

he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything.

“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you.

“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him.

“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face.

“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here.

“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall.

“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body.

“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined.

“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck.

“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream.

you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall.

“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back.

and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize.

“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours.

“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional?

“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck.

“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you.

“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.

his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin.

“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock.

“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,”

he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face.

“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you.

“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did.

only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman.

“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you.

“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen.

he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you.

“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging.

“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him.

“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again.

“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction.

his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half.

“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side.

“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you.

you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him.

“just,”

“he, ugh,”

he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?”

“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel.

“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists.

“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place.

you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,”

it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal.

“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch.

“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,”

if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck.

“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit.

“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,”

he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it.

“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs.

“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off.

“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you.

“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath.

“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb.

you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him.

it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you.

your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling.

“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees.

“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass.

“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you.

he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him.

“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle.

“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy.

“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?”

“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him.

he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him.

“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air.

“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched.

you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists.

he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct.

it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up.

“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest.

“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing.

“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released.

“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job.

“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer.

“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice.

“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you.

“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper.

his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body.

“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself.

“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey.

the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands.

you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you.

“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck.

“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing.

you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak.

“such a pretty girl,”

“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,”

“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”

“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”

you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out.

you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.

“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either.

“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter.

“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still.

“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.

“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face.

“i’ll help ya with that.”

joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in.

he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.

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palioom · 7 months

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stuffing

summary: javier has never been able to get enough of you, but it's only gotten worse ever since you've become pregnant.

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); fingering; established relationship; pregnancy sex/kink; squirting; cum eating; cum play; creampie; some dirty talk

• masterlist •

Life in Laredo was boring.

Boring people, boring houses, hell, even the birds singing here seemed boring.

But that’s how Javier liked it.

The biggest news here was barely worth a mention compared to what he had seen in Colombia.

He was more than fine with this boring life, no more chases, no more heavy protection tact vests. No looking over the shoulder, no suspicious staring.

Though, he still did that from time to time.

Couldn’t quite shake the habit of suspecting people planned something bad, occasionally checking his car for bombs.

He’d probably never lose these things, it was too deeply embedded into his being now, had become a part of him.

But that’s why he loved this boring life.

Coming home to the little plot of land they had purchased right next to his father’s, staying close to Chucho and helping out whenever they could.

Coming home to a warm home, decorated with silly little trinkets, pretty paintings.

Everything neatly organized but with a certain chaos to it. He didn’t like things too neat, and while their home was tidy and clean, it looked lived in.

Maybe a little wild at times.

Not bare or sparsely decorated like safehouses or his apartment back in Medellín.

He loved coming home to the smell of food wafting to the front door.

Loved coming home to her.

His lovely wife, her back turned towards him as she worked on something, hair up and out of her face.

Moving her pretty hips and ass as she hummed along to whatever song the radio was playing. Completely in her own world.

He smiled when he saw her, walking up to her and pressing himself close, hands on her hip and kissing the back of her head before pressing one against her exposed neck.

She was warm and inviting, letting out a small sigh when she felt him, leaning back while still working on whatever food she was making.

“Looks good, cariño.” He said, kissing that spot behind her ear that let her sigh even deeper before resting his chin on her shoulder to watch.

“Thank you, it’s the stuffing for the poblano peppers I wanna make at the cookout tomorrow.” She said, her skilled hands cutting vegetables into small portions. “I know I could whip it up tomorrow, but I have so many things still planned and I don’t know how I’ll feel.”

A smirk stretched his lips wide, his hands roaming to her large, round belly. Just letting his hands smooth over it for a moment, they wandered to the underside of it, gently lifting it.

The sigh of relief that spilled over her lips echoed loudly in the kitchen and he watched how she put down the knife, just leaning back into him, hands gripping the counter.

It was a heavy weight in his hands and he couldn’t imagine carrying that around every day.

But she was such a champ, despite her swearing and complaints. And she had never looked more beautiful.

“We could make a different kind of stuffing.” He suggested, tone teasing. “Together.”

A small laugh bubbled in her chest, and fuck, how he loved hearing it.

“Pretty sure there’s enough stuffing inside of me already.”

Javier had always been pretty insatiable when it came to her, whether it was for the basic need of wanting to fuck his beautiful wife or because his past was plaguing him and he needed a respite, seeking comfort in her body rather than his usual vices.

But ever since she had become pregnant, he truly couldn’t get enough of her, hands all over her round belly and swollen breasts, needing some part of himself buried inside her pussy.

Not that she minded, he always made sure to make her feel good.

“C’mon, nena.” He said, letting her belly down again gently, taking notice of how she slumped a little. “There can never be enough stuffing inside of you.”

She rolled her eyes with a groan, partially from the heavy weight returning, partially because he was ridiculous. In the best way, of course.

“Better keep that talk to a minimum tomorrow.” She warned with a grin, turning around in his arms and leaning back against the counter.

“Yes ma’am.”

His lips on hers were gentle at first, moulding languidly together, his hand roaming up and down her side. Moustache tickling her upper lip.

Letting his tongue find hers, he could taste some of the vegetables she had chopped up, smiling at that. She tasted amazing and Javier couldn’t wait to have whatever she was making tomorrow.

But first, he wanted her.

Deepening the kiss, his hands wandered down to her ass, squeezing hard which made her moan.

The most beautiful sound he knew, soft and already high-pitched, a song no one else would ever know.

“C’mon, nena” He rasped against her lips, a small groan leaving him when her hands wandered into his hair. “Let me take care of you.”

She chuckled at his words.

“Take care of me or of your dick?”

Javier had to laugh at that as well, forehead coming to rest against hers, looking into her eyes.

“Is that what you think of me?”

She shrugged her shoulders, upside down smile on her lips.

Her hands moved to his cheeks, squishing them just lightly. She really wanted him, feeling wet already at the thought of him inside her.

But she needed to finish chopping the vegetables first, knowing she wouldn’t come back here once he had her in bed. And he wouldn’t do it.

“Can I finish this first, Javi?” She placed a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over the small scar there. “I know you won’t let me out of bed once you get me there.”

Javier sighed but nodded. Anything for his wife.

Kissing her forehead, he let his lips linger there as she hummed. “I’ll help you, cariño.”

It took them longer than expected to land in their bedroom, with Javier trying to get things done the fast way and getting reprimanded by her more than just once for how sloppily he diced the vegetables.

But, they had managed somehow, leaving the mess to get cleaned up in the morning.

She giggled when he pushed her onto the bed, gently, before kneeling before her.

Hands on her belly, lips back on hers.

“Wanna taste that pussy so bad.” He said, one hand sliding to her thigh and slowly pushing up the hem of her dress. “Wet and sweet for me.”

Kissing down her jaw to her neck, he could feel the moan vibrating in her throat, her hand at the back of his neck.

“Please, Javi.” She sighed, enjoying the way his lips felt against her skin, how tantalisingly slow he moved his calloused hand up her thigh.

Her legs spread further, allowing him to trace his fingers up the inside of her thigh before reaching the hem of her panties, already wet.

A soft gasp echoed between them when he pressed a knuckle over her clit, applying just a little bit of pressure.

Her fingers curled into his neck, eyes closed.

She was much more sensitive now, every little touch so much more intense as he languidly dragged his knuckle over the damp material.

“Feels good, huh, nena?” He asked, leaning back to look at her face, drinking in her pleasure as he pressed a little harder.

She nodded, humming, biting her lip when he brushed over her clit again.

“Take them off, Javi.”

He grinned, fingers hooking under the waistband and tugging them down her legs when she lifted her hips to help him.

Both his hands were back on her immediately, bunching up her summer dress so he could look at her soaking pussy when she leaned back on one arm. The other caressed the back of his head still.

No matter how often he saw her, he always looked mesmerised somehow, like this was his first time.

Made her feel special, the low, quiet whistle and grin on his face making her giggle.

“Pretty pussy all soaked for me.” He said, eyes still on her middle as he used his thumbs to spread her open, the air chilly against her. “You're stunning, cariño.”

She couldn’t quite see, her belly too big already, but she felt the rough pad of one thumb press into her clit, making her hips jerk forward.

“Always for you, Javi.” She smiled, nails scratching against his scalp.

His dark eyes found hers, sparkling and so loving and he leaned up towards her face, pressing a long kiss to her lips.

“Let me taste you, nena.” He said.

Just a few years back, when she had met him between his stays in Colombia, he would have just dived in without even asking, merely announcing it.

It made her happy that he had settled a little, had found enough rest to allow himself to change just a bit.

Just a little though, still falling into his old ways more often than not.

Exactly how she liked it.

“‘Course, Javi, you fucking know that.” She chuckled, kissing him again before he settled back down, grinning like he’d just won the damn lottery.

In his mind, he did.

With a woman so stunning, so perfect with her charm and wits and that round belly only making her angelic.

He felt like he had done something right for once when he put a ring on her, just them in a tiny ceremony.

Only Chucho with them.

They never liked the big celebrations, just them was enough.

“Scootch back and lay down, cariño.” He said, helping her to move back on the bed, making it easier for both of them.

That growing stomach of hers had made it just a little harder to do all this, but they found a way.

She hummed when he kissed down the insides of her thighs, occasionally biting her while his hands kept them spread for him.

Her hand in his hair tugged weakly on his dark locks, making him hum in return.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmured, right before finding her middle, tongue twisting around her clit, seeing how her back arched off the bed, her fingers curling tighter into his hair. “So fucking sensitive, cariño.”

Licking a broad stripe up her folds, he focused solely on her clit, tongue flicking over it before he sucked on it, making her moan and whimper.

“Javi, fuck, that feels good, baby.” She whined loudly, writhing on the bed already, one hand twisted in the sheets while the other still gripped his hair tightly.

She wished she could watch him, watch his face as he ate her out. He always looked so pretty when he did.

So she closed her eyes and imagined his staring up at hers, brows furrowed in concentration. The wet sounds growing louder, mingling with her moans.

Her hips bucked against his mouth and he laid one of his hands on her hip to keep her still, the other finding her wet entrance, two fingers teasing her and making her whine.

“Oh- Baby, please, fuck me with your fingers, please.” She rushed out, trying to inch closer to him but he kept teasing her, letting them glide over her aching hole but not pushing inside. “You’re a mean man, Javi.”

He hummed against her, the vibrations running up her spine and pushed his fingers in, taking her by surprise.

She clenched around him, moaning loudly and throwing her head back as he slowly started pumping in and out of her, fingers curling against that spongy sweet spot inside of her.

“That’s my girl.” He mumbled, grabbing her hip harder as he continued to lick and suck at her clit. “Sweet pussy gripping me so tight, nena.”

Her orgasm was building rapidly, feeling so sensitive as he touched all the right spots.

A different, unfamiliar sensation built alongside it, faster and faster as she writhed below him, whines growing louder.

“Baby- I’m gonna-” She choked out, unable to finish her sentence as her orgasm crashed into her so suddenly and so violently that she couldn’t even make more sounds.

Then she felt it, a warm, wet gush, her hand in his hair managing to tug him away as he kept pumping his fingers, fucking her through her orgasm as she soaked his shirt.

He just looked stunned. This was the first time this had ever happened and seeing her body tremble, legs shaking and her thighs and the sheets wet…

Could he possibly be more in love and crazy for her?

“‘M sorry, Javier.” She gasped out when he removed his fingers once she had calmed down again, breathing hard. “I don’t know-”

“Stop.” He cut her off, rising to his feet so he could crawl over her. “That was fucking hot, cariño.”

His eyes were hungry when he looked down at her, lips crashing into hers.

His moustache was wet, as was his chin and she could taste herself on him when he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

She could practically feel how excited he was, not that he ever wasn’t, but all the shame she might have felt at what she did was melting away as he kissed her so roughly and passionately, his hands moving to push down the straps of her dress.

Quickly his fingers unclasped her bra and she helped him take it off, groaning when his rough hands cupped her sensitive breasts.

“God, I love you pregnant.” He said, kissing down her neck to her chest.

She giggled, the sound broken by a gasp when his mouth closed around one nipple.

“Just ‘cause my tits get bigger?”

Javier had to laugh at that. “Exactly, and you’re fucking sexy like this.”

She rolled her eyes, moaning again when his tongue curled around her nipple, back arching into him.

“Can you finally fuck me?” She asked, hands in his hair. “Please, baby, it hurts.”

He sat up, taking off his soaked shirt and throwing it to the side, revealing his toned chest and soft stomach.

“Hurts for me, nena?” He said, brow raised as his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. “Gonna need my dick to help you feel better?”

She nodded, biting her lip as she watched him take off his jeans, then his underwear, his hard cock springing free.

“Say it.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to coax him closer.

“Need your cock in my aching pussy, Javi. Want you to fuck me.”

His hands wandered to her dress, still bunched around her hips and pulled it off of her.

“My pretty little wife.” He chuckled, lining himself up with her, her legs draped over his hips. “You sound so sweet, you’re always so good to me.”

Slowly he pushed in, watching for her reactions as he pushed in deeper, until he was settled all the way.

She moaned, eyes closing and her hands reaching for his thighs, needing to hold onto him in some way.

“Feels good?” He asked, running his hands over her legs, then placed them over hers.

A low hum left her and she nodded. “Move, baby. Wanna feel you.”

Javier obliged almost immediately, rolling his hips slowly, pulling out before pushing himself all the way in again.

Dragging low moans from her, short gasps and pants.

Watching her face contort in pleasure when one of her hands left his leg to squeeze her own breast.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, cariño.” He groaned, feeling her clench around him. “My dirty, little wife.”

A new orgasm built rapidly, his dick hitting all the right places inside of her, his groans and moans only helping the waves of pleasure grow.

She opened her eyes to look at him, watching his muscles flex as he slammed his hips against hers, when he lifted her legs to lay them against his shoulders, changing the angle and moving faster.

“Oh- Javi, fuck!” She gasped, feeling herself so close already as he kept fucking her. “You feel so good!”

“I know, nena.” He rasped, his eyes moving back and forth between her face and her bouncing breasts. “Be a good girl for me and let go, yeah? Wanna feel that pussy all tight, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, cariño.”

Just a few more thrusts, looking at his face, teeth bared and brows furrowed, her second orgasm crashed into her, making her tense up and moan his name, squeezing him so tightly he had to stop for a moment.

“Just like that, nena, yes.” He breathed out, picking up his speed as he fucked her through it, rhythm faltering. “That’s my girl, fuck-”

His hips pressed into her, a guttural groan ripped from him as he came, fingers curling into her thighs.

“So fucking pretty with your belly, fuck- Gotta give you more.”

She barely understood his rambling over the blood rushing in her ears, struggling to breathe as she still felt the pleasure running through her.

But something about it was just incredibly hot.

He let her legs down gently before pulling out carefully, spreading her legs to watch his cum leak out of her.

She felt hot under his gaze and watched as he used his fingers to push it back into her, making her groan and roll her eyes.

“Javi, I am already pregnant.” She said, watching his face closely.

He hummed in response, still pushing more back into her.

“Just gotta make sure.” He said, hearing her laugh at that. “Love seeing my cum inside you, cariño, you know that.”

“Just gotta make sure…” She mumbled under her breath with a chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

Happy with what he’d done, he leaned forward to kiss her belly before leaning over her again, putting his fingers to her mouth.

“Open.”

She did, sucking his fingers into her mouth and humming at the salty taste, both of them together.

When he pulled them out again, he kissed her, soft and tender now, his hand smoothing over her belly.

“We do make good stuffing.” She said, trying not to laugh but feeling herself unable to when he started grinning.

He laughed too, loving her laugh and kissing her forehead.

“We do, and I’ll make sure there’s more where that came from.” He said, eyes twinkling.

“Not tomorrow.” She warned.

He kissed her cheek.

“I won’t have to mention it, everyone can already see how well I stuffed you.”

That earned him a playful swat on the arm, pushing him off of her with a laugh.

Yeah, she really loved this Javier.

And she could imagine letting him stuff her just once or twice more.

He was pretty good at this, after all.

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oncomingnight · 9 months

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Yandere! Jock ⋆.ೃ࿔* :･

I thought of writing this while I was drinking coffee and listening to music and I just couldn"t help myself. So, I decided to give you guys some southern representation which I'm surprised I haven't done already since I'm from Texas. I hope you all enjoy and never hesitate in reaching out to me ♡.

Emmett was positioned as the quarterback in his high school football team. He was an incredibly good student in both terms of behavior and knowledge. It wasn't rare for anyone that was into men to have an attraction to him, if you didn't want to date him, then, you wanted to be his closest friend. There was an extremely alluring nature that Emmett carried with him that made everyone around him feel as if they were on top of the world. If you were hanging out with him and a couple of friends, he was always the complete reason as to why you were laughing and smiling.

He would constantly invite you over to his house and if your parents were strict, he'd go to your house and enter through a window to your bedroom. He'll be quiet he swears, but don't be surprised if you have to slap your hand over his mouth when he loudly coos over your childhood pictures.

As expected, Emmett comes from an extremely powerful family that has connections on connections. This means that any crime committed by him would be quietly hidden away from the public eye, why wouldn't he take advantage of that? He keeps an incredibly close eye on you so he notices when someone either flirts or insults you.

Any of those actions end in death for the perpetrator.

His mom and dad absolutely adore you, along with his younger brother. His brother will show you his newly bought toys and his parents are constantly asking him about you. "She's a real sweet girl, Em. When do you think she'll be comin' back to visit?" Each and every time Emmett brings you on over to his house, you're greeted with three tight, warm hugs and a table full of delicious southern comfort food.

His hands are practically stitched to your body at all times of the day. He'll softly grab your waist with his ring-ridden hand, caressing both sides of your face as he kisses you as if it's the last thing he'll do, gently touching your thighs whilst the two of you lay in his bed.

He loves nothing more than the feeling of knowing you're watching him as he's playing on the field, this motivates him to work even harder to hear your words of praise after the game is over. Teammates of his will tease him about the love-drunken look he gives you when the two of you are together and how ecstatic the expression on his face is as you gush about his performance. He couldn't care one bit, though, if anything, he adores thinking about how in love the two of you look to the outside world.

His favorite song artists he enjoys listening to as he thinks about you are Glen Campbell, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, Ray Charles, Cleve Francis and The Delfonics.

Emmett will drive you to a drive-in movie theater, placing homemade food, snacks, bottled drinks, quilted blankets, fluffed pillows and a camcorder (for memories) into the truck bed.

He's well aware that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you and he wants to make life perfect for you. Emmett wants to move into a big ol' house surrounded by fertile and green land, the only thing is, he wants to build your future home. One night as the two of you were cuddled up in his bed and watching a thriller, he popped the question. "What do you want? In a house, I mean. Do you want an arched doorway, a patio, or a cute lil' greenhouse in the back? Tell me, I'll give you anythin' you want, you know that, baby."

Every time him and his family go on a group vacation, he'll always invite you as if he didn't already book a plane ticket for you. He couldn't imagine anything better than spending almost a month together with you and sharing a hotel room.

How could you ever say no?

Emmett would be at the mall with his family and purchase anything he knows will look good on you without any hesitation. That same day, he'll call you before knocking on your window to present the gift he purchased whilst thinking of you. The floral dress he'd bought being packaged in a black velvet box with a dark red satin ribbon wrapped around it.

In southern culture, there is no shock towards young couples being wed as soon as they finish high school. So, don't be surprised when he gets on one knee during a candle lit dinner he prepared in the middle of the botanical garden he bought out just for this night.

He's yours forever.

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

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You’re My Love Story

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.9K

Requested: Yes/No

Warnings: Time Jumps, Angst, Fluff, Christian Horner is an ass in this, Gerri is team you and Charles, Happy Ending, I promise

A/N: I've been listening to my favorite Taylor Swift songs a lot while I study and couldn't help but put each one to a driver, this one is for Charles

Poll Winner

Synopsis: Love Stories are meant to be heartbreaking, but would yours be the opposite?

2014, Ages: 17 and 16

You hated these parties, boring and stuffy. You're forced to wear a dress far too fancy for your taste, but your mother just wanted you to look nice. A party in the Monaco summer air had you wishing you could be swimming in the ocean than smiling and faking remembrance of people you don't know.

Your father was moving from person to person, shaking hands, laughing at crude jokes that had your mother giving him multiple looks. He's quick to stop, clearing his throat as he introduces you.

"My daughter, Y/N Horner. Sweetie, this is-" You zone out, giving a picturesque smile and faking interest in the conversation. "Mama, can I go take a breather? It's hot in the dress." You whisper. Firey hair turns, giving you her approval and whispering for you to not go far. "I won't, just on the balcony." Pointing to the double doors open, exposing the sparkling lights of Monte Carlo.

Floating through the crowd, stepping out on the balcony, you suck in the tinge of cold air clinging to the night. Your posture drops when you don't feel your mother's eyes on you, leaning over the railing. Laughter draws your attention to the people below as they dance around each other, talking loudly and freely.

Your heart yearns for that to be you, to escape this place and have some real fun. But, your father would refuse, saying you had to uphold your family name. The name, you sometimes hated being a Horner. Anytime someone would hear that last name, it was always followed by the same question.

"You're Christian Horner's daughter? Team Principle of Red Bull?" Like a broken record, you smile, nod, and give the infamous one-liner back. "Yes, and I fully support the F1 Team. They're definitely going to win." Everyone getting hyped hearing those words.

And why wouldn't they? You had the ultimate powerhouse Sebastian Vettel and the up-and-coming Australian driver Daniel Ricciardo. Speaking of which, turning around your eyes and scan the crowd, not hearing the familiar groups of laughter around Daniel.

Not seeing Daniel, you notice a boy make his way through the crowd instead. He was new. You could tell from how no one talked to him, say a few people but not enough for him to be somebody. His suit was nice, hair stringy as he looked around before darting onto the balcony with you.

"Oh, hello." His eyes widened, finally noticing that he wasn't alone out here. "Hi." Giving a curt answer and moving to leave. "Wait, you don't have to leave!" His hand grabs your wrist, making you turn, shocked that someone would touch you.

"Sorry." Hand-dropping as he fidgets, you clock in quick that he has never done something like this. "Have you ever been to one of these parties?" Hazel-green eyes pinch, hating that it was noticeable. "No," He trails off, playing with a ring on his finger. "Okay, yes. I'm a driver. But, just for Formula Renault. I'm driving for a British team called Fortec Motorsports," He looks up, sees your bored face, and sighs. "And you clearly don't care." Huffing, he leans on the railing missing your growing smile.

Laughing, you move closer. "No, I know the team. Daddy talks about all the younger teams all the time." The boy looks at you, his body more relaxed as he smiles. "Really? If you're here, you must be a daughter of a retired driver or worker, right?" He asks, teasing you.

Instead, you feel that familiar dread. Does he know who you are? Pretending to approach you and be nice just to meet your father? It won't surprise you if that is true.

"Yeah, I am." Back straight, wrapping yourself back in that perfect media daughter cover. "Oh, that's cool. My godfather is a driver. Made me come along and try to mingle. You see how well it's going. You're the first person to actually talk to me." Your heart picks up, seeing that smile directed at you.

The two of you talk away the rest of the night; laughter and blushes pass between you. Only for your bubble to be popped when your father's voice cuts through.

"Y/n? Are you ready to le-" You and the boy jump back, having been very close. Looks of guilt on both your faces have your father freezing. "Y/n, go to your mother now." Voice stern, no room for argument. With a nod, head down, you slip past your father. "Wait! I didn't tell you my name; I'm Charles. Charles Leclerc." A blush spreads over your cheeks, seeing that heart-stopping smile again.

"Nice to meet you, Charles. I'm Y/n Horner." Your introduction is ended when your father grabs your arm, dragging you away from Charles, the balcony boy.

2017, Ages 20 & 19

"Charles, stop throwing pebbles." Giggles as you poke your head out the window, seeing a red and white shirt in the dark. "What? You weren't answering my texts." He whispers, yelling up to your window. "I was studying. Shouldn't you be getting ready for your last F2 race?" Leaning out the window, your heart still beating fast in your chest, seeing that smile.

"Wanted to see you." He admits, scanning the wall, trying to figure a way up to you. "Charles, if Daddy knows you're here, we're dead." It's been 3 years since you met Charles on that balcony and 1 year since your father gave you strict order for Charles to stay away from you.

At that time, the two of you couldn't stay apart. Your mother caught you more than once sneaking out. With a smile, she'd just nod, kiss you on the cheek and tell you to be careful. "So? I wanted to tell you some exciting news. So, you either come down here, or I come up." Dropping your head, you have to cover your laughter. "Wait." He nods, watching the outline of your body dip back in the window.

You curse as the bedroom door creeks, and you whisper that you'll get it fixed. The hallway plunged into darkness, with no light from your parent's bedroom. Score. Sliding out of the doorway, you tiptoe like clouds are under your feet. On the steps, your body freezes when a step groans under pressure.

Taking a moment to ensure no one woke you wait before darting down the hallway to the kitchen's back door. Charles jumps, worried that it's your father, but instead, you close the door and stop staring at one another.

"Hello." Smiles pull on both your lips, darting forward. He opens his arms gathering you in them. "Hi." You gasp, arms and legs wrapped tight around him. "I've missed you." You don't need to repeat it back, kissing him as a way to say it. Smiling, he kisses you back, but it ends earlier, pulling a slight whine of protest out of you.

"I'm driving for Sauber next year." The words have your brain stutter to a stop. Sauber? As in the Formula 1 Sauber team? "What?" He chuckles, putting you down, and looking at you, his smile drops. "Oh my god, Charles. That's….I'm so proud of you." The two of you mold into each other as Charles tells you everything.

You laugh, seeing him so happy, something he's needed for a long time. Finally able to uphold his promise to his father so long ago. A light in a window flicks on, having you two freeze. "Fuck, that's my parent's room. Go!" You whisper yell. Charles scales the garden wall, stopping as he leans, kissing you. "See you on the track." Dropping down the wall, lips tingling.

But you have to forget that, rushing back into the house quick and quiet steps and into your room. Placing yourself back at your desk, studying. A knock has you jumping, your father's head poking in. "I heard something? Are you okay?" Faking concern, you knew he was suspicious from how his eyebrows knitted together, and eyes were drawn.

"Yep, all good." Trying to hide your hard breathing, he looks over you before disappearing and clicking your door closed.

2019 Ages 21 & 20

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" Something slams on the table, flinching. You try hard not to look up. You'll only be met with articles and newspapers of you and Charles kissing. Your father's furious face, your mother's worried one. That's all you'll see if you look up.

"Christian, you need to calm down. She's an adult." Your mother tries to reason, but he refuses to see reason. "I told you AND him to stay away from each other. And did you LISTEN? NO!" He roars. Tears slip down your face, and hurried hands wipe them away. "I love him." A confession you haven't even said to him.

"Love him? You love him? He's the enemy, Y/n. How could you betray me? This family? The team?" Each word is a stab to your heart, just wanting to run away into Charles's arms. "I'm sorry, Daddy. But I do. I love him!" Head whipping up, you meet your father's eyes. Yours blurry from the tears running down. He just shakes his head.

"If you ever see him again. I'm shipping you back to London, where you'll never see him again. Understand?" Voice steady, he was past angry. Now in the stage of silent fury. "Answer your father, Y/n." Gasping on a sob, you nod, stumbling out of the chair and rushing upstairs.

You knew time had passed when your Mama knocked on the door, the sun dipping into the sea. "Y/n?" A sniffle is the only reply you can give her. Throat and eyes are raw from all the crying you've done.

"Sweetie, he's here to see you." Sitting up, you are shocked and scared by those words. "Your father isn't here. Had business to attend to." She leaves your door cracked. All you can see is her red hair bouncing down the stairs.

Checking the mirror, you know it's pointless trying to fix yourself as you head downstairs. His back is to you, staring out the door that gives you a look at the Monaco docks filled with fancy boats.

"Charles?" Voice cracks, and he turns, wearing sunglasses. He doesn't even remove them to look at you. "I was told by everyone that we need to call this off." White noise fills buzzes in your ears, tears all gone, you just slip down the steps sitting on them.

"Don't, not you too. Please, don't." Charles flinches, unable to read him properly, his sunglasses blocking all his emotions. "Y/n," His own voice breaks. He has to clear his throat, keeping a reasonable distance. Charles knew if he stepped forward, he'd gather you up and never let go. "Please don't go. Charles, you can't. I'll leave. I'll go with you. We can…we can run away and never look back. Let's just run. I can't keep being told how I'm supposed to feel." Eyes burn, and tears drip down your cheeks.

"I love you. I love you, Charles Leclerc." Sunglasses taken off, he pinches his eyes, trying to keep his tears at bay. "We can't. I'm sorry, Y/n." The front door opens and closes. "Oh, oh god." You sob, holding your chest. "Y/n? Oh, my baby." You bury your head in your knees, not wanting to hear your mother's voice.

Current, Ages 26 & 25

"Are you okay?" If you could groan out loud right now, you would. It was thoughtful the first couple of times your mother asked, but now it was annoying you. "Mama, for the last time. I'm fine; my faith in us ever getting back together is long gone." You hiss, watching Charles with fans from the Red Bull hospitality.

"I was sure you two would get back together. Neither of you have dated since that day. Also, I think me kicking your father out for that month taught him a lesson." A chuckle passes your lips, painfully pulling your eyes away from Charles. "Yes, I think it did." She smiles, sipping on her tea.

A small wave to someone, you're too busy to look up, worried Charles would see you staring. "Who are you waving at now?" Your Mama is a social butterfly, always chatting and waving at someone. "Charles." She replies.

Eyes bludging, you whip around, seeing Charles still in the same spot. Eyes locking, the two of you look away at the same time. "Pity, you should go talk to him. You're clearly still in love with him."

"MAMA!" You gasp. She shrugs her shoulder, lifting her teacup to her lips and sipping. "Don't deny it. I know you cheered for him like crazy last year." Cheeks red, you grumble how you were just glad he was doing well.

"Okay, but he's staring at you. Again." You knew he was. Whenever his eyes are on you, your body heats up. Basically glows under his watch, cursing that you still loved him so much. "Oh, he's gone. Guess you can leave now." With a silent thanks, you leave the safety of the hospitality, walking back to your apartment.

The walk is longer than expected. Streets shut down in Monte Carlo due to the race. You can't help but shake the feeling someone is following you. With a slight turn, you notice many people behind you, all wearing regular clothes to Formula 1 gear. "Going crazy." You turn and pop out using a shortcut, slamming into a body.

"Ow, watch where you're going." Snapping, you lock eyes with the person, and blood runs cold. The last time you saw his eyes this close was years ago. You even forgot the exact color of his eyes. Honey green.

"Y/n." He breathes. That stupid heart-stopping smile is still the same, at least. "Excuse me, I have to go." He body blocks you, making sure you don't leave. "Don't go." Hearing those two words, you're pulled back to the memory of when you said that same exact thing to him.

"I'm sorry, I can't." Throwing his own words in his face. This time no sunglasses to hide the sorrow in his eyes. "I love you, I still love you." He confesses. "I had to walk away. I just joined Ferrari. Your father was making my life hell on and off the track. He said if I didn't stop seeing you, he'd make sure I'd lose the seat. Fuck, it was so stupid to pick a fucking seat over you. But all I could think about was my father, Jules, and you. I thought you'd be better without me. God, was I wrong." A sharp turn on your heel, you stare at him.

"Do you have any idea how lonely I've been? That I lost my best friend and the love of my life in one go? I shipped myself back to London to finish school cause everywhere I looked, you were there. Yet, with new faces, places, and everything else, I still looked and craved for you. My dumbass even thought you'd come running after me? But that was all in my head." Charles shakes his head no.

"I did come after you, but your fucking father found me and the ring and told me you hated me. Never wanted to see me again, so I flew back. I didn't learn how you still felt until 2 months ago. Gerri is a talker when drunk." You try to follow his words, but the word ring is all you can stay on. "And she was drunk, spilled everything to me. How you fell apart, kicking your father out for a month. All of it. Grew some balls and went to your father, talked to him, and told him I would marry you with or without his permission." Taking deep breaths, he calms down, leaving you two in silence.

"You have a ring?" He nods, pulling out a little black box. "I carry it with me everywhere." Neither of you says anything as you just stare at the box. "Ask me."

"What?" Eyes wide as you smile, eyes watery. "Ask me to marry you. Please?" He laughs, dropping his head. He gets down to one knee on the empty Monte Carlo street. "Y/n Horner, will you marry me?"

Laughing, you nod. They're happy tears as he slips the ring on your finger this time. "Yes, my balcony boy." His own laughter filled the quiet street.

2024 Ages 27 & 26

"Y/n? Come on, don't be late for our wedding rehearsal!" You smile, blinking out of the memories as you stare at that ugly dress you wore the first time you met Charles.

"Coming!" You stare at your rehearsal dress. A white dress hanging off the door. One dress you wore when you met the love of your life, the other you'd be wearing to promise yourself to him forever.

This was a love story that survived.

Turning, he stops fidgeting with his watch, mouth open. "Is that? Woah." He gasps, seeing you wearing the same dress he first meet you in.

"Yep, had it altered like crazy, but bringing back memories?" Charles can only nod as he moves to your side, kissing you.

"We were both so young when I first saw you." He whispers, kissing you again. "And I'm going to ensure we're never apart again." Placing a kiss on your ring.

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letsgetrowdy43 · 3 months

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All you gotta do is ask—

Jack Hughes x reader

Request: Maybe something about jack’s best friend going to a game and is wearing someone else’s jersey and he gets jealous. Like he likes the reader but hasn’t said so. Reader likes him and doesn’t know he feels the same until they’re out after the game and he says something along the lines of “my girl shouldn’t have someone else’s name on her back. It’s wrong” and maybe cute fluffy ending because this girl is hormonal and needs the emotional rollercoaster

Jack's eyes caught hers from the bench, Ellen to her right chatting about Luke's rookie year, as she smiled fondly at him, giving him a little wave before his attention was pulled back towards the game.

"He adores you," Ellen smiled as the young girl turned to her with reddened cheeks. "What?" "Jack," she nodded towards her son on the ice, the two of them watching as he took a shot and the puck flew straight into the back of the net, both his mother and his best friend shot onto their feet, screaming with their hands in the air.

He faced the crowd with a grin, tongue stuck out of his mouth and he yelled out of excitement, sending a wink in the direction of his best friend as she blushed at the action, "he loves you," Ellen continued as the crowd calmed down, the devil's goal song still playing loudly as the girl swallowed thickly. "I love him too," she said with a soft smile, "he's my best friend," Ellen gave her a knowing look before they went back to watching the game.

The game ended with a Devils win, the first one in their string of home games before the All-Star break.

Ellen, Jim, and the young girl sat in the family room just outside of the locker room, a smile on her face as baby Haula ran over to her as she chatted with Kristen. She was pulled out of their conversation as the door opened to reveal Luke followed by a grinning Jack who maneuvered his way around the room to get to her while Luke went to their parents.

"You played so good," she grinned as he pulled her in for a hug, "my superstar," she whispered as he laughed at the nickname. "I scored for you," he mumbled into her shoulder, before looking down her back to see a larger 43 on her back, he pulled away tensely, a look of confusion on his face as her face filled with worry.

"You're wearing a Luke jersey?" he gasped. "Yeah, he gave it to me before the game, your jersey is in my car," she grinned, but his smile did not return. "I scored for you and this is how you repay me," he whispered, tone whiney as she rolled her eyes at his antics.

"I'm being serious, this feels so wrong, my girl should not be wearing my brother's jersey," her brows furrowed as her eyes caught his. "Your girl?" "Don't kid yourself, you've been mine since we were in middle school," he said smugly as her face grew a new shade of red. "You can't just deem me 'you girl' J," she said with a grin, her arms wrapping around his neck, "you gotta ask me first," her tone was taunting as he leaned in to kiss her but she dodged him and stared at him with raised brows

"You gotta ask," she fumbled, fingers playing with his damp curls. "You've always been mine Y/n/n," she shook her head, loving the mental hoops she was making him jump through as she smiled menacingly. "just ask J, it's all you gotta do, or you could beg, whatever floats your boat," her grin grew as he rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said batting his lashes as she giggled at the theatrics of it all, "Would you do me the honours of being my girlfriend?" he asked so kindly which rewarded him with a slow kiss to the lips instead of an answer, the action telling enough that it was an obvious yes.

a groan sounded from behind them as Luke, Dawson, and John grimaced at the sight in front of them. "Kissing my brother in my jersey, yucky," Luke said which gained a nice strong elbow to his ribs from his father who just smiled proudly at the couple.

"Trust me, she's taking it off," the entire family room groaned in disgust as she hid her face in his chest in embarrassment, "I didn't mean it that way guys, don't be gross!" which gained a laugh from the room as he stood them with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

#rotalks: hughes brothers night!!#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb

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itaipava · 6 months

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— soft moments in the car with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

sunset drives where you flee the city and drive to the countryside; windows down, your favorite songs blaring, him holding your hand and pressing a lingering kiss on your palm and not quite letting go the whole drive. he glances at you a few too many times; you looking so carefree, wind blowing in your hair, the hazy orange glow of the golden hour falling on you beautifully; he thinks he couldn’t be more in love. you having to playfully scold him to keep his eyes on the road and him obeying with a bashful smile. and the drive goes on and on as you both bask in the sun.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

it is calming yet lively at the same time. endless chatter about whatever comes to your minds. or sometimes you’re just sharing a blissful moment of quietness, music very softly playing, when suddenly he loudly sings along which startles you and he hurriedly apologises before you both burst out laughing in amusement, and as laughter dies down and fades into lingering smiles, his hand finds yours, holding it gently and tracing your knuckles as he drives.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

bickering about which song to play in the car and ultimately using rock-paper-scissor to decide, except even when you lose, he begrudgingly chooses to play the song you wanted anyway. once, you’re both heartily singing along to the song and he gradually stops and simply listens to you sing your heart out with a smitten smile on his face, trying to keep his eyes on the road. and you don’t even realize that he has stopped singing along because you’re too immersed in the song; too immersed to notice the little, amused, affectionate glances at you as he falls in love all over again.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

when you’re sad or down, he takes you on late-night drives; no destination in mind, windows rolled down, this feeling of peace and contentment as the wind messes your hair and brushes you skin. “where to?” you would drive aimlessly around the city. this is how you discover some of the best places to get food or to buy cool, random things at souvenir shops. there is always amazing conversation going on or you’re lost around the area and blaming each other, which only ends in pure laughter, whatever troubles on your mind forgotten.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he already said that he doesn’t really like driving because of the traffic, but he would love to see you driving; he thinks you look even more beautiful and he can’t stop looking at you. you playfully ask him why he’s looking so much and he just smiles at you - that smile that always makes you weak. he takes photos of you - or makes aesthetic videos to post in stories later - and he always plays your favorite songs. he holds one of your hands and brings it to his lips every now and then; stroking it with his thumb. it’s subtle and small gesture, but enough to show how much he loves you.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

he does this thing where he slightly leans forward on the steering wheel and watches you get on the car with that adoring half-smile of his. on long drives, he always moves his hand from the car’s stick shift to your thigh and when you place your hand on top of his, he shoots you a brief glance then happily sighs as he looks back on the road.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

playfully bickering, talking over each other and over the sound of the music until he grabs your face and shuts you up with a kiss when he reaches the stop light; remembering where you are only when someone honks, the traffic lights having turned again, and you both giving each other the ‘oh shit’ look before you drive away in a fit of giggles and laughter.

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

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Need to know

summary: an accidental call to your boyfriend on girls night leaves everyone shocked at a revelation they never thought they would have; bob fucks.

pairing: robert floyd x girlfriend!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: allusions to smut throughout but none actually, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a daddy kink, one mention of 50 shades of grey as a joke 😭

part 2!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Bob, Rooster and Coyote were all sat on the couch in Hangman’s living room whilst an old 80s rock record played through the speaker, watching the latter animatedly talk about some new position him and his girlfriend had tried out the night previous.

“And then I had her leg wrapped around my neck Javy, it was literally insane.”

Javy laughed at his best friend’s antics whilst Rooster spluttered, “You’re so full of shit Bagman! Not even a gymnast could pull that off.” Bob nodded in agreement and Jake started up again.

“Rooster, you’re just mad that the grannies you’re ploughing in missionary get arthritis before you can finish.”

Bob couldn’t even politely hold in his laugh at the dig as Coyote started to smack his arm in an effort to stop cackling, whilst Rooster huffed something about how she was only two years older than him with an eye roll. Now filled with the urge for revenge Rooster decided to strike the first person in his eye line.

“How come we never get to hear about you and your girlfriend Bob?” Rooster questioned, which was cruel of him. He knew Bob was a private person but the alcohol they had slowly been consuming over this ‘boys night’ had lowered his inhibitions slightly and he was still seething from Jake’s dig so Bob seemed like the easy target. Bob shrugged as the boys turned to him expectantly.

“It’s not gentlemanly, I dont expect she says anything about us to her friends either,”

Coyote seemed pleased with his response and slapped him on the back a little too painfully before putting in his (unwanted) two cents.

“See that boys? Always the southern gentleman hey Bob?”

Jake laughed loudly at the two admissions he had just heard.

“What bagman?” Bob asked, growing more agitated by his friends who were a little more inebriated than he was.

“You are out of your depth if you think Phoenix, Halo and our girlfriends aren’t talking about us specifically in the bedroom right now.”

Reminded of your current whereabouts, Bob began to wonder what you and your girlfriends talked about on your bi-monthly girls night. After all that is why he was drinking at Hangman’s place. Jake would never admit it but he hates being alone in his house without his girl, hence the invitation to boys night being sent out to his friends. Bob was about to speak up again when ‘My Girl’ by the temptations started playing from his pocket, signifying that his girlfriend was indeed calling him. Jake giggled out,

“Seriously Baby on board, I promised my girlfriend I’d start being nicer to people but you are making that promise so goddamn hard right now.”

Rooster felt bad for starting up this conversation and came to Bob’s defence,

“I love this song,” this prompted a fake gag from Jake into Javys face.

“Can you guys shush for like one sec,” Bob pleaded before answering the call.

“Hey baby,” Bob spoke.

No reply. Weird.

“Hello?” Bob spoke again, he could hear muffled sounds but no clear words. Begrudgingly switching the phone to speaker in one last attempt to hear you clearly, Bob held his phone out and the boys leaned in rather too nosily for Bob’s liking. There was more muffled noises until a sound rang out that the boys assumed was you moving your phone into a better position.

“Hi baby,” Bob tried again, but it became obvious that you couldn’t hear him. He reached to end the call when a voice rang out.

“YOU CALL HIM WHAT?!” Jake’s ears perked up, he would recognise that voice anywhere, that was unmistakably his girlfriend. Jake gestured for Bob to put his phone on the coffee table so they could all hear where the rest of this conversation (which was definitely not meant for their ears) would go. Bob felt slightly bad that this would be an invasion of your privacy, but that feeling quickly subsided when he heard your response.

“Look, Daddy kinks aren’t even that uncommon, Jake has made you do even crazier stuff and you can’t even argue that!”

Rouge began to spread across Bob’s cheeks and he reached to end the call to prevent further embarrassment in front of his closest friends. However, all three other boys seemed to be working in tandem as Coyote moved to hold Bob down and Hangman held the phone away from him all whilst Rooster reminded Jake that he should mute themselves so that they shouldn’t have to worry about a noise coming from them which would alert you of the call currently taking place without your knowledge.

Phoenix cut in before Jakes girlfriend could retaliate to your earlier statement. She was curious,

“And like.. you enjoy that?” Bob was reminded of the sheer amount of people who he worked with who were now aware of a certain preference he had and he cringed.

Your giggle was heard across the phone and the boys struggled to contain their own.

“I mean when I first met him I was not expecting it at all, but like… it’s so hot when he takes charge,” the girls all squealed and you were spurred on, “the other week he even tied my hands up so I couldn’t touch him when he went down on me.”

More squeals ensued but not just from the girls, Rooster was surprisingly high pitched when he wanted to be. Halo squawked out,

“Phe I cannot believe your little back seater is a total fifty shades of grey type freak!”

Jake’s girlfriend seemed to find this even funnier than everyone else,

“‘Little’! Ha! You’re funny Halo!” This intrigued the two female pilots even more as they prodded at you. Phoenix spoke up first,

“How am I supposed to look him in the eyes after this?!” She laughed.

Halo then decided to question you further, “Okay, I’m gonna move my hands apart and you tell me when to stop,”

A snort from Jake’s girlfriend followed and then silence for a few seconds. The boys stared Bob down suddenly wishing they were with the girls. A shriek interrupted their train of thought and Bob buried his face into his hands.

“NO WAY!” Halo all but screamed. You winked at her and she screamed again, “God, no wonder I saw you limping around the Hard Deck the other day!”

Rooster looks up at this revelation and questioned Bob, “Bro you said she hurt her knee at work,” Bob smiled sheepishly and Coyote continued his annoying habit of smacking anyone in the near vicinity when he finds something particularly funny.

Bob shushed them all as you began to speak again, “Look if we’re being honest now I want to admit something else,”

“Please have a sex dungeon, please have a sex dungeon, please have a sex dungeon, please have-”

“Jake shut the fuck up he does not have a sex dungeon,” Rooster came to Bob’s defence once again, “…do you?”

Bob scoffed at the absurdity of Roosters question, “Hey! I was just checking man!”

You started up again, “that time I lost my voice from a mean cold… it was not a cold.” The girls shrieked with laughter, “and that’s all I’m saying on that matter.”

There was movement on the phone as Phoenix finally spoke up from her laughter, “I need another drink, anyone else for one?” There was a combination of yeses and Halo got up to help her retrieve what was left of the wine.

There was more shuffling then a loud gasp much clearer than everything else the boys had heard, they looked at each other and grinned.

Jake’s girlfriend looked up from her phone and asks you, “whats up, babe?”

“I’ve been on call to Bobby this whole time.”

Bob couldn’t help but laugh at your use of the sweet nickname after seemingly revealing all of yours and his dirty secrets.

Jake’s girlfriend ever the people pleaser tried to reassure you, “Well we didn’t hear anything from them? Maybe he butt answered your butt dial?”

You breathed a sigh of relief at her words, because they made sense right? You reached to end the call but then a voice from your phone spoke up.

“Baby, you are far too optimistic.” Jake chuckled into the phone hoping to surprise his girlfriend.

Jake’s girlfriend laughed and you gasped, “Jake! Hi um… sorry how long have you been on the phone? Is it just you there?”

A chorus of laughs occur from the boys side of the phone and you groan into Jake’s girlfriends hair.

Rooster speaks up this time in a teasing tone, “Best behave for Daddy tonight Angel.” And you groan even further into Jake’s girlfriend as Phoenix and Halo return with wine in hand.

Phoenix gives you a confused look and you explain, “I butt dialled Bob.” Halo threatens to spill the remnants of wine with how hard she is shuddering with laughter.

Phoenix speaks into the phone, “Hi boys!”

Coyote laughs and responds, “Hey Phoenix!”

You finally dare to ask the question that’s been plaguing you, “So how much of that did you actually hear?”

Your sweet, loving boyfriend finally spoke up, “From about the daddy kink up until now, Sweetheart.” He chuckled.

“I’m so sorry, Bobby.” You cringed.

“Don’t worry about it, just be glad I’m not trying to break your legs like Bagman is with those positions with his girl.”

You giggled into your friend again whilst protests from Jake could be heard.

“Okay Baby, well I’ll see you soon?” You asked and you could practically hear Bob’s smirk through the phone.

“Yes you will, Sweetheart.”

After hearing his response you absentmindedly tap your phone to end the call and place it face down away from you.

Jake’s girlfriend piped up, “at least he didn’t hear us talk about you know what!” And you all giggled in relief.

“WE DONT KNOW WHAT !” Jake yelled into the phone.

“Still here Sweetheart,” Bob laughed, and you hurriedly picked your phone up.

“Oh my god what is wrong with me ?!” You whined. Bob laughed in response and Phoenix took your phone ending the call definitely before something too embarrassing was revealed.

Halo piped up, “I suggest a no phone rule at the next girls night!” You groaned into the pillow behind you.

The boys were staring at Bob, somewhat awestruck.

“What?” Bob laughed.

“Why are we all pretending we don’t wanna know what his dick looks like now?” Rooster asked.

Bob pulled away just quick enough before his arm became anymore bruised from Coyote’s violent laughter so Jake fell victim instead.

Bob almost felt bad for Jake but then he spoke up, “Daddy! Help me!” With a shit eating grin on his face.

God, you were in for it when you got home.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: i have always been a part of the bob fucks agenda but here is my little contribution HAHAH,, also i thought maybe a lil continuation w jake and his gf here ??? if anyone wants more on those two lemme knowww!!

lew lew i love you 🫶

pls comment, reblog or message me and tell me what u think !! all notes are appreciated <3

thank u for reading :)

- honey <33

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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months

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𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ have you seen the MV of wildest dreams? If not… you play the romantic interest of Enzo’s character in a movie and the sparks begin behind cameras too. But he turns you down and finally sees you years after that, realizing he missed you and now he’s jealous.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠_ age gap, angst, fluff, Enzo is a little bit of an asshole, Enzo’s ex is NOT specified, okay? Definitely not trying to imply anything by that, Spanglish, ANGST AGAIN. We have a Mexican carne asada here y soporten. BIEN CRINGE ESTA MADRE

𝐀/𝐍_ people from Uruguay and Argentina can correct me all they want about the accent, please start listening Cedar, then Widest Dreams for this… BOTH SONGS IN MY PLAYLIST FOR ENZO.

♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 (+fics here)

_________________________

Your character was close to his. They were lovers. So you had to spend a fair amount of time with him consequently. Enzo was a humble and kind man. He was so random and yet so peaceful. Which facilitated the connection.

In the beginning, you thought it was weird that the production of The Society of the Snow had decided to keep more than 50% of the cast for a short film that would promote the movie and create speculation. You didn’t say no because it meant flying to the shores of Spain and enjoying more time with the boys.

So you give in, you take the director’s advice to stick to Enzo and build a connection.

He’s older than you, more mature, more experienced in many ways, but yet you seem to be able to make him laugh.

“Tenés que estar bromeando,” he says laughing.

“No es joda, de verdad me multaron y se hizo un desmadre” you explain giggling, drinking at your water bottle.

Both of you are having a little moment on the beach. It was warm, and it was a free day. The rest of the boys decided to spend the afternoon playing video games and you were not willing to melt watching a TV.

“Recuérdame jamás salir con vos” you roll your eyes.

“Ay vete a la verga, todos saben que soy el alma de las reuniones y fiestas” he shrugged, eating from his sandwich and smiling.

“Si, tenés razón quizá”

“¿Quizá? No, no mientas, Enzo” finally, he laughs loudly.

“Bueno está bien, lo acepto”

“Así me gusta, obediente, mi niño” he blushed. And it made you blush too.

The sound of the waves swiftly colliding makes you feel at peace. It’s been great so far. Filming an action short film, playing the damsel in danger who turns out to be the villain, and having lots of fun with your workmates.

“¿No extrañas tu hogar?” he asks, and you sigh, looking at the sea.

“Trato de no pensar en eso. Dependo mucho de casa, de mi familia. Me cuesta el cambio, pero me adapto rápido” he nods, smiling, and you hate to admit you like how good he looks with his hair slightly shorter.

“Eso es bueno… adaptarse. Aunque cueste… creo que al final es bonito el cambio” you start laughing. Because you remember his Instagram captions and the pauses he always wrote. But he’s think that you are also very pretty, not only the change he mentioned before.

“Si, es bonito el cambio” You keep laughing, and he shouldn’t be smiling so much at you. But you were so funny, you always had something to share and talk about. Enzo was very close about sharing things about him. But with you, he could make an excuse.

So you also stare at him, and you feel your heart start beating faster.

You can’t fall in love with him. But you’re miserably failing.

…

You look at yourself in the mirror. Your character had a disguise moment, where she had to pretend to be a dancer to get information. So there you are in a bejeweled attire with feathers.

“No mames, qué buena me veo,” you say laughing. Loving how your waist looks and how your hair looks so fluffy. The costume department did an outstanding job of making you look hot

“Como que si… ¿eh?” The annoying twink of Juani had to be there.

“Ponme la de perdió este culo de la Bad Gyal, por favor” Juani starts cackling, already filming you for some random tweet.

“Pero si vos tuviste un ex hace siglos, ya no queda” you roll your eyes, checking on the glitter decorating your eyes.

“Ay, pero no por eso, Juani. Nomás por mamona lo digo” There’s a knock on the door and you turn to see who’s standing there.

“¿Y esa diosa?” You blush, smiling at Fran being the person who knocked at the door before.

“¿Dónde que no la veo?” Of course, Juani had to be an idiot and ruin the moment, but soon he blows you a kiss.

“No es cierto, linda” You roll your eyes and turn back to see Fran giggling. You give him a sweet smile and scratch the back of your neck. He helps you get your robe so you won’t have to cross the whole building with your exhibitionist outfit.

“Tenés escena conmigo” Fran says offering you his arm, which you gladly take.

“Adiós, naco perdedor,” you say to Juani, who starts laughing loudly. As you start walking with Fran across the hallways of the building, you start feeling your heart beat faster. You were going to have a heated scene with Enzo, which made you cringe a lot. First, you appear with Fran’s character in the club which ends with your character tangling up with Enzo.

“¿Nerviosa?” You shake your head, sighing.

“I don’t know…Digo, no lo sé” he nods, as you two walk out of the building to get going towards the set. The shores of Spain were beautiful, Cádiz was warm and it suited your overwhelmed mood.

“Va a estar bien. Que igual si no, nos vamos a dar la vuelta en la noche” that immediately makes you smile. You nod, hugging him.

“Eso me encantaría mucho, Fran” You are on set now. There’s no way back, and when you turn back, you see Enzo, and he’s already looking at you.

You blush, and offer him a little smile before turning away so rapidly. The whole action is watched by Fran and he has his own opinion.

“Has pasado mucho tiempo con Enzo…¿No crees?” You shrug, greeting the makeup staff who are going to retouch your look.

“Teníamos que conocernos a fondo para que esto resultara” he nods again.

“Creo que si se ha dado lo de la conexión” it was weird, because you knew it was true. you had developed a special connection with Enzo. Hours spent talking and having long walks across the beach. The days you decided to cook for the boys and he always was the first to arrive and try to help you set up everything.

“Si se diera la oportunidad… ¿Te quedarías con él?” His question makes you wonder. It took you aback, and while you have full trust in Fran, you don’t know what to answer.

Well, you do know what to answer… but you are afraid to admit it.

“Si… aveces siento que si es con él, Fran. Me hace muy feliz… pero, no creo que Enzo sienta lo mismo” you confess. He smiles, taking your hand.

“Tenés que decirle. Se llevan un par de años, pero… se ven tan bien juntos” he says looking at Enzo.

“De verdad… ¿Tú crees?”

“Es que ve cómo te mira, y/n” In disguise, you turn to your side, and you confirm Enzo is still looking at you.

“Decíle… anda” you smile, a warm feeling growing in your heart. You feel loved, you feel like it might be meant to be. So you plan something.

“Hay que hacer una carnita asada” Fran laughs.

“Pero vos le pones mucho al asado. Jamás había visto uno así” you laugh. Since your type of asado was a northern Mexican carne asada. They all believed it was a great change of style of cooking.

“No lo niegues, Fran. Mi asado es grandioso” he tries to deny it but at the end, he smiles nodding.

“Ey… ¿estás lista, linda?” Enzo asks, appearing with a gorgeous smile. He was wearing a dark suit, his hair looked amazing, very hot.

“Creo que si…” you let him know. After some brief exchange of words with the production, you take your position along with Fran to start filming. And you never miss the way Enzo was looking at you.

Maybe he felt the same.

…

You started the carne asada before taking a shower and getting ready. Now, everything was ready. The big patio that connected the apartment complex was decorated with a table that Juani and Matias helped you set, with chips, salsas, guacamole, beans, and agua de tamarindo that you had to mix with some alcohol.

Everyone is having fun, and you have helped to serve the food to everyone with Blas. It seemed to be going well, you have a sundress and sneakers on the feeling of the alcohol has you tipsy and you can’t wait to make yourself some tacos with the asado.

You feel someone hug you from behind, and when you turn back, you end up caged around Enzo’s arms.

“Hey… you made it!” You cheer after seeing him, trying to ignore the blush on your cheeks. You hoped nobody had seen the interaction. Or else they would start with cheesy rumors.

“No me lo perdería” you smile, offering him a glass of agua de tamarindo.

“Hice verduras asadas y queso fundido para ti” he wanted to hug you so tightly again after hearing you say that. You had thought about him and cooked specifically for him. Enzo had been in some dilemma, where he questioned if you could be the one. Although, he still had many obstacles to get to you. And he didn’t know yet that those obstacles would draw him apart from you.

“Ehh.. y/n linda, ¿hay más mas cubiertos?” Agustin asks you suddenly.

“Creo que hay servilletas y popotes en el cuarto de lavar. Voy a ver” you say laughing.

“Te acompaño…” says Enzo, which makes you blush again.

“Gracias…”

Both of you walk inside the building, and the laundry room is very near, so in less than a minute he opens the door to let you in. With the distance, you finally are able to distinguish the song playing on the patio. You hum along trátame suavemente playing in the background.

No quiero soñar mil veces las mismas cosas

Ni contemplarlas sabiamente

Quiero que me trates suavemente

Enzo can’t help but think you look so adorable. He remembers the way he had to touch you for the scene earlier. Half of him hated himself for feeling that way about you, and the other half questioned if it could possibly be correct.

“Enzo… no alcanzo las servilletas” When he turns back, he sees you trying to climb the washing machine to open the drawers.

“Así no, chiquita.” He laughs and stops you, making you sit on top of the washing machine while he grabs the bag with napkins and straws inside.

“Ay, si… humillame pues” you complain crossing your arms. He drops de bag beside you, and then gives you a silly smirk, which makes you laugh.

“Nada de eso, sis vos sos bien linda así” You cross your arms, avoiding his eyes. This was the closest you’d been around him. It feels alright like having him close to you was normal. Making you realize, you could get used to his aura being so damn close to you.

I like him…

“¿Tú crees?” You let yourself play a little dumb, pretending innocence. And you have the excuse of being under the effects of alcohol.

Te comportas de acuerdo

Con lo que te dicta, cada momento

Y esta inconstancia, no es algo heroico

Es más bien algo enfermo…

you keep humming the song as you try to keep the conversation normal with the man.

“Si… muy linda vos” The outrageous side of you let your arms get tangled around his neck. And it caught him by surprise but he let himself feel the moment. He shyly placed his hands on your hips, and you squirmed.

“¿Qué estamos haciendo?” He asks, accepting that he was getting lost in your eyes.

“No sé” you admit, feeling how his chest was touching yours.

“Bésame, Enzo…” you close your eyes, and seconds later, you know he’s kissing you. Your fingers trace his hair and it’s so soft that it makes him groan in pleasure.

You let his hands caress the plush skin of your hips and legs as you keep pushing him towards you.

This is it, you are falling in love with him.

…

It’s one of the last days of filming, but for the past two weeks, you have been spending a sickening time with Enzo. He spent two nights with you, he even agreed to go out to the city just for you. You could say the feeling of falling in love was growing very rapidly.

He made you feel safe and every smile he offered was enough relief for your days. He held your hand once while walking through the crowded streets to not lose you and it felt right.

And you hadn’t seen him in two days because he had different scenes to film.

Until now, where your character holds hands with him as she confesses she’s the villain. You feel the air shift, you feel the distance he’s making and you wonder if it was because of the scene or if he was actually being cold to you. The setting is on one hill with a gorgeous sunset in the background, making the scene very dramatic and tragic for the romantic partners.

“Dime que me amas y me entregaré. Por favor…” your character says. Enzo looks at you, and the look he exchanges with you is sad, making you confused on camera.

“Yo te amo, pero sabes que no podemos estar juntos” his character had to say. And for some reason, you felt like Enzo was actually saying that to you.

“CORTE!” The director said. Everything keeps going on. But for you time stops. You look at him, hoping to find some sense of tranquility. That nothing had changed.

Slowly, Enzo dropped your hand and after a brief look… he walked away.

…

You spend the afternoon collecting shells. You are confused and slightly sad because filming is coming to an end. You don’t know if Enzo actually wanted to give it a try on distance. Because after the kiss on the carne asada, none of you had given status to the relationship.

But it’s not necessary to keep thinking about it, because you see him walking towards you, and your immediate reaction is to offer him a smile.

“Ey.. te perdiste todo el día” you try to sound calm.

“Estaba ocupado.” He says with both hands inside his hoodie. His hair looks disheveled and he seems tired.

“Entiendo…”

“Volví a hablar con ella” There’s no need to address it, you know who he meant, his ex-girlfriend. You don’t say a word, opting for hearing him before talking.

“Hablamos mucho. Quedamos de vernos cuando vuelva a Uruguay” you gulp, each word hurting you more.

“¿Entendés, verdad? Vos sos más joven que yo, somos de lados muy distintos… no iba a funcionar” your eyes get watered immediately. Rage invading you and sadness flooding you.

“Decí algo, por favor. No quiero lastimarte…” you laugh, shaking your head. There are some seconds of silence. You need to choose the right words.

“Alguna vez me miraste, sonreíste y pensaste que… tal vez, ¿tal vez pudo haber sido conmigo?” He sighs, looking away, at the sea.

The longer he remains quiet, the more you have the answer. He never felt the same as you, but he never tried to stop you either. He played along.

You just start walking away, hand on an extremely tight grip, the shells and sand irritating the skin on your palm.

“Nunca quise hacerte daño” he yells as you have walked a fair amount of steps away.

“Si nunca sentiste algo por mi, nunca debiste haberme dejado encariñarme contigo.” He lowers his gaze and you feel even more enraged.

“No puedes ni levantar la cabeza. Fucking shame on you…” you spit with disappointment.

“Y jamás debí haber aceptado conocerte tanto” you finally say. Walking away at once and fighting the tears as you try to pass the boys who are playing video games again.

“Ey… ¿estás bien?” Juani asks and you nod, but he follows and once his hand touches yours, you can’t help but collide on his chest, letting the tears fly away silently. Juani doesn’t say anything, not yet, he just hugs you tightly.

…

The next afternoon, Enzo goes to find you in your room, but he’s surprised by the fact that you’re gone.

“Filmó su última escena y se ha ido a casa” Santi told him.

“¿Cómo?” Enzo is in shock, he just sighs, closing his eyes.

“Se quiso ir antes…”

“Le dijo… muchas cosas a Juani y a Fran” Santi adds, and Enzo can tell what had happened. And of course, he accepted being guilty.

“Necesito hablar con ellos” and with that he lefts.

But the talk didn’t help a lot. He just realized you were gone by the time he was able to be alone in his room again. Enzo was confused and tired and he also just wanted to go home. But as he understands you’re gone and he won’t see you in a long time, he feels a little lost. And empty…

…

A lot of things change. You grow, you forget, you change. You go back to your normal life, college goes great, and everything is normal until it’s time to give a promotion to the movie and the short film. You kept a lot of contact with Fran, Juani, and Matias, but it won't be the same as if you didn't end up on good terms with Enzo.

About him, you learned he didn't make it with his ex-girlfriend. He was single and apparently good. You don’t hate him, but there’s a lot of resentment. And as the premiere was around the corner, rumors had appeared on the surface of social media. Rumors of you and Enzo, and all the drama. You didn't pay attention to those, but you were expecting at least one question regarding the issue in the upcoming interviews.

You were offered to be dressed by some perfect designer who had similar ideas to you. He made a silk dress in a champagne color for you. With tiny crystal beats and a gorgeous skirt. You loved the dress, it suited you so well too.

So at the beginning of the night, you don’t think about anything but making a good impression on the cameras. All that mattered was the promotion of the movie.

As soon as you arrive at the gala, you start shivering because of your nervousness about seeing your friends again. You were the last one to arrive so you weren’t able to greet them.

And that’s when you see Enzo. He seems fine, in a completely dark suit and his stupid perfect hair. When he finds your sweet eyes, his heart beats faster, you look so perfect. Your hair, your brows, your eyes, the pink lips, everything seemed to make you look so perfect. And he can tell you look older, your childish and plush cheeks are gone, and your short hair too. He remembers all the good memories he made with you and he feels sadness taking over. He missed you so bad after going back home. And he wasn’t able to hear anything from you because he didn’t dare to ask Juani or Fran for example.

“Te ves preciosa,” says Agustin hugging you. You smile at him and thank him. All the boys want to greet you and all is being recorded. The only one you don’t greet is Enzo, who stays afar posing for the cameras. Until most of the photographers keep asking to take a picture of you and the man who broke your heart.

“No te acerques si no querés” Juani advises you, whispering in your eye. You sigh, looking at how Enzo is getting closer.

“Creo que ya no tengo de otra…” you whisper back, pretending to have a big and honest smile on your face.

Enzo exchanged looks with you, and he was able to sense how awkward you were feeling, which didn’t soothe him. So he pretended to place his hand on your back but he never touched you, and you didn’t even glare at him a second the flash hit your face. You ignore the growing pain of having him so close but being so far away at the same time.

They want you to do a little interview with him. So you get close to the cameras to answer some questions.

“Entonces y/n… ¿qué crees que fue lo mejor de grabar el largometraje?” You giggle, easy question.

“Definitivamente que pude volver a estar con los chicos. Fue mas sencillo y podíamos divertirnos con mayor libertad” the woman nods, assuring that she was recording your answer.

“Y Enzo… ¿fue difícil grabar estando en una relación?” You know he didn’t like the question, and you suddenly felt worse or awkward.

“Eh… no. La verdad es que llevo rato soltero.”

“¿Hay alguien que podría llevarte a dejar de estarlo?” He laughs and you just want to run away. You really don’t care, and you don’t want to know the answer.

“Hubo una chica con la que estuve en Cádiz hace casi dos años. Nos la pasamos muy bien y las cosas no se dieron, mi culpa. Me gustaría hacer las cosas bien por ella…” it must be you, and it can’t be. You don’t believe him, you just turn around and look for any of your friends. So when you see Matias making you a sign to join im, you take the opportunity.

“Me llaman por acá. Un gusto, y gracias…” you thank the woman with a smile and leave quickly, knowing Enzo has eyes set on your back.

You won’t cry, but you can’t help but feel so weird about everything. You had been great without him. Seeing him back made you go back to that summer in Cadiz and how great it was your life at the time. But that is gone, and so are the memories you made with him.

…

Everyone knows you disappeared after the projection of the movie and the short film. You don’t like feeling his eyes across the dark room. You can’t rest knowing the party that followed the projections was going to be very painful. By showing clips of the behind-the-scenes, everyone saying words to each other. You are not in the mood for that. And it’s all because of him. Because he had to be an asshole and not think clearly. You couldn’t even call yourself stupid because he gave all the green lights that actually looked like green flags.

And as you question everything in pajamas, looking at the open balcony of your hotel room with red swollen eyes when there’s a knock.

You drag your feet to the door, and once you open it, he’s there.

The suit is still on, but he has a specific gesture on his face.

People often said looks said more than words, and Enzo was the perfect example.

You tilt your head, reading his face. His face says that he’s sorry, he feels sad, and he’s desperate to have you back. And he frowns after seeing your sad face. Your red eyes and look that said how confused and hurt you were.

So both of you stare for a little longer, literally glorifying each other faces. Remembering the soft touches, all the things you talked together. How happy you made each other.

“Podemos arreglarlo…” he finally says.

And slowly both of you smile, sad and broken smiles.

You open your arms and he immediately goes to hug you. His hands find their way to your waist, his face hidden in the warmth of your neck.

“Tú recuerdo jamás me dejó” and you smile again, closing your eyes, letting your face get comfortable on his chest, letting more tears fall.

“Si es contigo…Siempre fue contigo” he admits, knowing he’ll never let you go again.

____________________________________________________________________________

Antes de que me digan que que pendeja esta la y/n por perdonarlo tan fácil, pues en mi cabeza cuando Enzo la fue a ver a su cuarto fue como muy fuerte. De esos momentos donde la tension es mas fuerte y no se necesitan tantas palabras para saber que la persona está literalmente a tus rodillas suplicando so…

I already have an idea for a new fic with Enzo that it’s going to be AHHHHH. hint? Everyone loves you, that’s it

#enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic #si no etiqueto la movie como hago que esto lo vean duh #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow

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sometimesanalice · 9 months

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Leave a Light On

Summary: When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 7k

Warnings: lots of pining and yearning (Minors DNI)

(this was the story I was working on back in January, before the 'Like I Can' series and anything else on my masterlist. I'm so excited to share it with you all!)

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, you imagine he probably thought you’d check on his plants every now and then. That you’d pop by to give them a quick water and then be on your way.

Maybe that you’d take the Bronco out for a quick spin, so that his baby it didn’t sit there too long going unused. You were one of a very small handful of people he trusted to drive his most prized possession. There was something special about being behind the vintage wheel with the sun on your face as you cruised along the highway, even if it wasn’t the same without him sitting there smiling next to you.

He’d already put his mail on hold with the USPS, but you knew that he knew he could count on you to rescue any stray package that might slip through the cracks and make its way to the front door of his charming craftsman bungalow.

What he probably didn’t expect was for you to be there sometime past 2 AM sitting on the creaky bench of the old, but well-loved, piano that you had helped him to find.

You should be tucked away under the comforter of your own bed, in your own room, at your own place.

Instead, your fingers are navigating over the black and ivory keys trying, yet again, to make it through a tricky passage on a song that you’ve spent the better part of the last three months trying to perfect.

He was coming home soon and you couldn’t wait to hold him, to love him, to surprise him.

Each time he leaves, it gets a little easier to miss him. You wear your longing like a locket rather than an albatross around your neck, always there but easier to bear.

Rooster had a way of filling a space in a way you’ve never experienced before. His larger than life charisma was one of the first things that had caught your attention, followed by that damn smile of his.

He was always humming in the kitchen.

Or whistling in the car.

Or playing the piano to decompress after a long day.

Or listening to something on his mom’s refurbished record player.

His presence always so tangible and warm, like a blanket pulled fresh from the dryer. With Bradley around, you could wrap yourself up in the sheer comfort of him.

And when he was gone, it was the quiet that you struggled with the most. A constant reminder of just how far away he was. No texts or calls or voice memos throughout the day. No little everyday sweet somethings that let you know he was thinking of you.

The sound of silence followed you everywhere. Its heavy companionship making itself known regardless of how loudly you sang along to his favorite songs on the playlist he had made you or how many times you played through the song you were learning just for him.

You had grown up in the silence, you knew it well.

Parents who stayed together because it was easier than splitting the house and sharing the kid. And on the rare occasions it wasn’t quiet, it was loud. The kind that was inescapable regardless of how much you buried under the covers or how far you tucked yourself away in the corner of the backyard.

Until one day the glossy, satin walnut upright piano appeared along the wall in your barely used dining room. And then it soon became your favorite way to cover the quiet and to mask the loud.

Looking back on it now, maybe your parents had wanted something to fill the silence too.

The hours and hours of lessons you and Bradley had both been forced to sit through as children was something that the two of you had bonded over pretty early on. And while he had kept up with playing, it was something that had fallen to the wayside in your life. First with school, then with a career, and now with purposeful avoidance.

There was once a time when reading sheet music had come as easily to you as reading a book. And then one day, they were just a bunch of random dots scattered in between and across five lines on a piece of paper.

There was once a time when you didn’t even need to look down to know where your fingertips were flying to. And then one day, all your fingers could do was stumble and trip over the keys as you winced at the dissonance it created.

And when Rooster had learned about your mutual musical upbringing, he had made it his personal mission to try and get you to play something for him. He was so sweet, so sincere in the way he’d ask you, all big brown eyes and hopeful smiles.

It had always made your chest tight to brush him off. It was something he clearly wanted to share with you, but that part of you ached like a phantom limb. You didn’t know what would be worse embarrassing yourself or disappointing him with your lack of skill when it was something that you used to be so proud about.

It was easy to dodge him at first during nights out at the Hard Deck with your understandable Not with all these people here’s to your practical Mozart would just bring the vibes down’s to your evasive Maybe next time’s.

And when his polite requests were met with empty answers, he took it a step further.

One night in his bed, the curtains fluttering as the sea breeze mingled with his sandalwood scent, he’d whispered into your heated skin, “I’ll get you to play something for me one of these days. Maybe I just need to find the right form of bribery.”

His teasing innuendo juxtaposed deliciously with the deliberate touch of his fingers and tongue as he’d played your body to a perfect crescendo.

It reached a point where you couldn’t stomach to see the dejection in his eyes, the hurt he tried so hard to hide when you’d deny him yet again, that you had to own up to your closely guarded secret.

The confession had whooshed out of you in one breath, leaving you feeling deflated and defeated afterwards.

When you eventually mustered the courage to look at him, he’d been wearing the softest look of understanding on his face, as if he could sense the toll it took to admit the loss of that part of yourself. Then he gathered you in his lap and held you, all while the tears of frustration simmered behind your tightly squeezed eyes.

And when he offered to help remind how to read that language without words, to help you remember the letters of the keys beneath your fingers, it had made your heart hurt a little less.

You weren’t ready then, not like you are now.

But nothing gave you as much pleasure as it did to watch Rooster seated in front of the well-worn and well-played upright piano of Penny’s at the Hard Deck. There was nothing more exhilarating than seeing him in his element so at home on the bench, scuffed and scratched from performers of the past, as he shared that part of himself with everyone in the bar.

He made it look so easy. So damn effortless. His thick fingers flying purposefully over the keys as he played from memory. His joyous enthusiasm electrifying and substantial enough to get the whole bar singing along with him.

It always drew him a lot of attention.

How could it not? He was magnetic on a bad day and captivating the rest of the time. And entirely too handsome for his own good.

Interested eyes, curious eyes, hungry eyes followed him around more often than not after an impromptu performance.

However, those brown eyes of his were always set on you.

Never wavering, never straying from you as he’d weave his way poco a poco, little by little, back through the packed bar. Handing out high-fives to people on autopilot as he passed by to return back to your side. Glistening with the sweat he worked up and grinning widely as he’d greet you with a How’d I do, sweetheart?. Those big, capable hands sliding around your waist, in the back pocket of your jeans, under your top to rest on your low back.

The two of you never stuck around for long after he wrapped up. You didn’t mind helping him find ways to put that excess adrenaline to good use. Usually in the backseat of the Bronco.

You’ll never forget the first time Bradley serenaded you. The song meant for you and you alone.

If someone were to cut into that soft, pink part of your brain, you’re pretty sure they would find that memory pressed there like flowers between the pages of a book. Forever apart of you.

It was the song that always took you right back to that little vinyl shop along the pier. And back to that date that had almost derailed it all.

When Rooster had picked you up to take you to dinner all those months ago, he had seemed a bit antsy and absentminded.

Sure, he had gotten out of the Bronco to come fetch you like a gentleman, instead of sending some half-assed Here text like your ex had been fond of doing. You thought for sure he’d be hustling you back inside after he caught a glimpse of what you were wearing once you opened your front door to greet him.

So you were surprised when he’d simply pressed a dry kiss to your cheek and escorted you to his car with a hand placed respectfully between your shoulder blades instead of cheekily in that space between your low back and ass.

That spot that toed the line between decent and indecent. That spot that made him smirk when you’d give him a pointed lift of the eyebrow, because the two of you knew exactly what he was doing. And better yet, liked it.

However, that night it was almost like he was going through the motions, like he was already somewhere else.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent except for the white noise of the highway as he drove. The circular knob for the radio set to the left.

Off.

Which in hindsight should have been your first warning, since Bradley was never not listening to the Oldies station. A vintage vibe for your vintage boy.

When you were finally seated across from him at that new trendy Thai place you had been dying to go to, his fingers wouldn’t stop tapping out some unheard tune. On the tops his thighs. On the top of the table.

His eyes were landing everywhere else other than on you. On the large leaves of the potted palms, on the ornate pattern on the gold silk that was swathed across the ceiling, on the intricate hand-painted tiles on the floor.

You’d been trying to carry on a conversation for the past fifteen minutes and were feeling completely on edge when you had to repeat yet another question for him.

The anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach had been getting more and more difficult to ignore. You could tell he wasn’t really there, what you were trying to figure out was whether or not he just didn’t want to be there with you.

And god, the drinks hadn’t even come out yet. There wasn’t anything for you to distract yourself with other than your water glass, and even that was already empty except for a few melting ice cubes.

His half answers and noncommittal noises were rapidly clearing things up for you.

He’s breaking up with me.

It was at that crushing realization that the waitress had returned with your drink orders. The bright orange concoction that she set in front of you had been topped with a lovely purple orchid and glittery swizzle stick.

A happy looking cocktail for the girl who thought she was going to have another great date with the guy who was saved in her phone as “Golden Boy”.

“Have you two decided on what you want to eat? Or would you like to hear the chef’s specials again?” the waitress had asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Bradley.

You could tell that she was sensing the brewing tension between the two of you.

“I don’t think we’ll here much longer, maybe just the check--”

“Sorry, if we could have a few more minutes to decide--”

You’d both started speaking at the same time only to turn to the other wearing matching faces of absolute confusion. He’d gone ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers finally still on the tabletop. The shock in his eyes was apparent, and you could only assume it was there because you beat him to the punch.

The waitress had looked at you sympathetically before saying she’d come back in check in a few minutes and then quickly spun on her heel to take her hasty leave.

It was the look that she’d given you that had really sealed the deal for you, and wasn’t that just great? You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rest of the waitstaff was already hearing about the couple fighting at Table 12 and taking bets about whether or not they’d break up.

Lucky them, dinner and a show.

You’d reached the fruity drink in front of you, the condensation from the glass leaving a ring on the table and took a large sip for moral support. Feeling the weight his stare on you the whole time as you savored the tart taste of passionfruit as it burst across your tongue.

He’d just have to wait. It was your turn to ignore him.

As you’d swallowed it down, it had left you feeling more than a little angry that it tasted so good when you were feeling so shitty. He knew how much you liked an over the top cocktail, why couldn’t he have picked some dingy hole-in-the-wall to do this at rather than ruin this place for you? The hot prickling sensation of righteous indignation filled your chest.

You really didn’t want it to drag out any longer, setting your liquid courage back down you’d met his stare and got right down to it, “If you’re going to break up with me, Rooster, can you just do it now? I’d like to still be able to order Pad See Ew in the future without thinking about you and this moment.”

You removed the napkin from your lap, folding it up primly before placing it back upon the table as you waited for the final nail in the coffin to be pounded in on the remains of the happiest-and-easiest-and-clearly-too-good-to-be-true relationship you’ve ever had.

“Wait, what? I don’t want to break up.” His eyes were wide and searching, the hurt in his voice had been evident. And it was the first time all evening that he seemed to be present with you, like your Golden Boy had finally showed up to the date. “I thought things were going well. More than well, actually.”

“Yeah. I mean, I did too. Until tonight,” you’d agreed, defeatedly. “I’m really confused here. You’ve been completely distant tonight. Not to be vain, but look at me,” you gestured to the sexy lowcut dress you’d worn for the evening. It was something you’d been saving in your closet for the right occasion. And you’d thought it was going to drive him wild, but he hadn’t even given it a second glance.

You’d leaned in a bit, lowering your voice, “It’s a boob and leg dress, Bradley. I look really fucking hot, and frankly, I didn’t even think we were going to make it here once you saw this. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve missed a dinner reservation. And you haven’t said a single thing about it.”

It felt like a silly thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things, but his inattentiveness that evening had stung more than you’d wanted to admit to.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I noticed,” he’d retorted hotly. His eyes had been heated as he’d matched your movement and leaned in further across the table. “Half the men in here noticed it too the second you walked in.”

You didn’t bother trying to hold back your scoff of frustration, the man was infuriating.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re making me feel like being here- with me- is the last place you want to be right now?” You’d given up on trying to sound unaffected, this was not the evening you had envisioned. It felt like being blindfolded on a rollercoaster, unable to see what exactly you were hurtling towards.

“I got my new orders today,” he’d blurted out, his eyes trying to read yours for the reaction. “I’m being send as aerial escort for a diplomatic mission. I ship out next Monday for six weeks.”

He’d told you later that he was grateful it wasn’t a longer one, he knew he was lucky because he could have just as easily been sent away for a deployment longer than you’d actually been together.

“Oh.”

You’d known that that moment would have happened eventually with his job, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. However, it was one thing thinking about it theoretically rather than looking at a ticking clock with a deadline.

“Cards on the table, sweetheart?” He’d waited for you to nod before continuing on, “I am really fucking into you. I’m trying not to put pressure on this, because I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl. I wanted to take you out for a nice meal, get you a couple of those complicated fun drinks you like. I even looked at the menu in advance, they have one here that they light on fire and it seems like something you would love.”

He was right, it was something that you’d love. You had even eyed it when you first got the menu, but you hadn’t wanted to get anything that would draw you more attention when you already felt like you had too many pairs of eyes on you.

“Then I wanted to take you home with me and tell you after we had a great time out. I wanted to ask you to save that Sunday before I leave for me, so that we could spend the whole day together.” His fingers had started playing that unheard tune on the table again. “I wanted to show my girl the best time, to keep her wanting to come back and to stick around. So that someone else doesn’t catch her eye, so that I don’t lose her to someone better than me while I’m away.”

His confession had your heart taking up residence in your throat. Having him lay it out for you so clearly and knowing that he’d felt as serious about you as you did about him was everything you had wanted to hear. However, one thing nagged at you.

“Bradley, you make me happy. Like really, really happy. I’ve only got eyes for you. If I’m being honest, this stopped being casual to me around our third date. And I trust you enough to know you’d tell me if this”, you’d gestured between the two of you, “wasn’t what you wanted anymore before starting up with someone else. I hope I have that same trust in return, because if you’re worried about me stepping out on you while you’re away, I don’t know how this is going to work. And I really want it to work.”

“Shit, I’m really striking out here. Batting 0 for two,” he’d sighed out more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. “Our third? Really? I thought for sure after that disaster that you were going to block my number.” He huffs a laugh, cheeks turning the same shade of pink that they had that chaotic evening on the beach.

“Bradley, it was comically bad.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the memory of it. “You were trying so hard and you were so flustered. It was so endearing.”

“Who would have guessed getting attacked by seagulls and coming home covered in sand flea bites could have been so appealing?” He joked self-deprecatingly.

“Me, I could have. Since I was with you,” you said sincerely, “No one I’ve dated has ever put half as much effort into trying to make me happy as you have.”

The two of you exchanged a soft, tentative smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you had a wandering eye or anything, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with you as he reached for your hands and threaded his fingers through yours, his palms slightly sweaty. “This deployment is different for me. I’ve never had to ask someone to wait for me before, never had anyone who wanted to. And I’ve been really in my head because I was trying to find the right way to tell you, to ask you.”

You were still getting to know all of the expressions of his face, but the look of open insecurity he was wearing was new to you. And you’d felt something deep in your chest release and unlock.

For how easily he owned a room, for how confident he could be, getting to see these tender parts of him because he trusted you with them had made you ache in the most bittersweet of ways for the man who was in front of you.

You held his gaze, taking in his anxious expression. How anyone couldn’t want this man or didn’t think he was worth the wait was incomprehensible to you.

“So Sunday the seventeenth, huh?” you’d said with a grin.

His relief was palpable as he’d squeezed your hand a bit tighter, “Yeah, baby, you up for it?”

“A perfect day with my dream guy?” you mused, squeezing his hand back, “Yeah, I think I’d be up for that. I’m up for all of it.”

Not just the date. Not just the deployment. You already knew. With him, you wanted it all.

When the waitress returned a few moments later, Bradley ordered a green curry for himself and the Pad See Ew for you. Along with one of those complicated, fun drinks that arrived with fanfare and flames, all while he played with your fingers.

And after you were finished, she’d dropped off a fluffy looking coconut covered dessert that she’d stated was on the house as walked away with a wink.

You’d totally called it, dinner and a show.

As you’d left the restaurant, he tucked you in close under his arm pressing kiss after kiss to your temple as you made your way back to the Bronco.

And later, when he had taken you back to his place for the night, your boob-and-leg dress forgotten somewhere on the floor, he’d apologized again. This time with his mouth on your body.

Twice.

It had been a fluke, really, finding that record tucked away in that small, but well-kept shop on that Sunday before his deployment.

You’d surprised him with a certificate for a haircut and hot towel shave at an upscale barber for a little pre-deployment pampering. He’d gotten his hair trimmed the day before and he was somehow looking even more sunkissed than usual. His patterned shirt was mostly buttoned up and he had on your favorite pair of jeans- the ones that might have been a bit too snug, but did devastating things for his ass.

It was the outfit he’d been wearing when you had first met.

You and Bradley had spent a lazy, perfect morning at the beach reading and lounging and trading sea salt kisses before changing and to grab a bite to eat. He’d held up a towel up around you to slip into your sun warmed dress, behaving himself for the most part. But you’d still caught him sneaking a peek from over the top of the terry cloth.

After eating a late lunch at his favorite little café that served the best cioppino, you’d popped in and out of the various shops that dotted the boardwalk near the pier. It might have been the bottle of wine you shared, but he made sure to stop at every photobooth you passed along the way, collecting strip after strip of snapshots and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

His hand staying in yours the whole time.

When he’d spotted the tiny record store, he’d cheerily pulled you along with him wanting to look for new additions for his ever-growing collection. It was his newest hobby after getting his mom’s old record player restored. You had even helped him build the sideboard he had specially ordered for it to display his prized collection in the living room of his home.

You could hear him talking excitedly to an associate about some Jerry Lee Lewis albums, who offered to take a look in the backroom for him. You never had good luck when you tried to search for specific things, so you were happy to meander around a bit aimlessly and see what spoke to you.

Casually flipping through the stacks, you’d gasped when you landed on what appeared to be the holy grail of all vinyl records ever made.

“Bradley, look!” You’d held out the record for him like a prize. And he abandoned his own search to come join you on the other side of the store.

“Soldiers’ Sweethearts, huh?” He grinned at your find, his eyes crinkling around the edges. The navy colored jacket highlighted a trio of glamourous looking women, each of the three records featured a different performer and their covers of songs popularized during WWII.

“Mm-hmm,” you’d preened, feeling entirely too pleased with yourself. “You’re a soldier, I’m a sweetheart. I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. I have to get it.”

“Well I’m not a soldier, technically,” he’d chuckled, as you’d rolled your eyes at him. The joke had you scrunching your nose, and his mustache grazed you as he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to it. “But you’re definitely a sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You were still trying to learn the ins and outs of that part of his life. But you’d liked how he never made you feel stupid when you had questions. More often than not he seemed excited to answer them for you, that you were interested in what he did.

Rooster gently took your newest most prized possession into his big hands, “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Flipping the album over, he’d scanned the tracks listed on the back for the three records. “Some classics, but a lot I don’t think I know. Definitely some intriguing titles, like ‘Daddy’,” he read aloud with a raised eyebrow and a grin that could only be described as lewd.

The man was a menace and had no problem finding new ways to make you blush. You were grateful that the shop was empty except for the two of you, as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“What about ‘Who’s Taking You Home Tonight’? Have you heard that one before, sweetheart?” His large body moving in and crowding yours, the smell of his cologne making your thoughts go a bit fuzzy around the edges. Your heartbeat kicked up in tempo as he brushed a piece of hair off your forehead.

That find was definitely a jackpot.

Him and those records.

“Mm, or how about ‘Make Love To Me’?” He’d murmured into your ear, his free arm slid slowly against your waist, making a home for itself low on your back. The warmth from his hand seeping through your dress and into your skin.

It was heady being the target of all his heated words and teasing tone. The pull in your low stomach getting more intense with every moment you’d stayed pressed against his hard body. You could see how his pulse was pounding arditamente con forza, boldly with force, from how close your face was to that thick throat of his. And you had wanted to--

“I knew we had it somewhere!”

The associate’s cheery announcement as he returned from the backroom startled you back into yourself. Feeling flustered you’d tried to pull away, but Bradley just kept his arm locked around you as he’d made his way to the counter.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. We’ll take this one too,” he stated as he’d smoothly placed your Soldiers’ Sweethearts album on the top of the pile he had accumulated. Only letting go of you to pay.

Naturally, you’d wanted to play the record the second you made it back to Bradley’s place.

He set it up for you before giving you a lingering, deep kiss leaving you to your own devices as he worked on the final few things left on his to-do list before his deployment early the next morning.

You were happy to make yourself comfortable on his wide seat couch with an Old Fashioned listening to Jo Stafford’s soothing voice with your eyes closed, wanting to luxuriate in the moment.

One where Bradley was less than twenty feet away puttering around in his kitchen and humming and murmuring to himself.

One where you could call out to him and he would be in front of you in a few long strides.

You wanted to avoid thinking about the next day and the beginning of your new normal.

One where you couldn’t expect text messages from him throughout the day.

One where concern and uncertainty would follow you around like a dark cloud until he came back home to you.

But he was here for now. And you wanted to savor it all, to soak up all of its sweet, syrupy goodness like the expensive cherry in your glass.

He must have sensed the turn in your thoughts because his sandalwood scent gave his closeness away before his voice did, “What do you say, Miss Soldiers’ Sweetheart? Can you spare a dance for me?”

You opened your eyes to see him standing before you with his hand outreached for you. The smile so gentle and open on his face, made it impossible for you to do anything other than wordlessly nod your head in agreement as you’d let him pull you up from your comfy perch.

“Apologies in advance for any injuries caused by my two left feet,” you joked a bit bashfully as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Lucky for us, I was gifted with two right feet. Don’t worry, we’ll even out each other,” he murmured.

He pulled you into his gravity, pressing your joined hands against his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The hand on your lower back urging closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head where you had tucked it into that safe space where his neck meets his shoulder.

take me in your arms, and never let me go whisper to me softly while the moon is low

True to his word, he’d guided you in a smooth, easy rhythm. The confidence in his steps as you were held within his sturdy arms was enough to make you feel secure in your own movement. With him you were completely taken care of.

hold me close and tell me what I wanna know say it to me gently, let the sweet talk flow

Your other hand slid up slowly from where it was resting on his shoulder to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as your thumb traced the thick column of his throat.

Come a little closer, make love to me

He held you tighter, held you closer, as the song came to an end. The easy rhythm turning into a gentle sway that continued as the next song began. And the one after that.

That night in his bed he moved against you with such purpose, such tenderness. The sex with Bradley was always stunningly good, he was never content to let himself come until he’d rendered you thoroughly boneless and breathless. He was easily the best you’ve ever had, but that night it was different between you two.

The mood weighty and intense, both of you exposed in a way you hadn’t been before. But there was no mistaking the deliberate way he touched you, the unwavering way he rolled his hips against yours, the unguarded way he held your gaze as if he was committing that moment to memory as he made love to you.

He’d held you close to his warm body, his fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps, as you shivered through your orgasm. His mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered soothing sweet somethings until he followed you over the edge.

For Bradley, you were up for it. For him, you’d be up for all of it.

yesyesyes

Things were a bit too quiet for you.

You heart clenched in a different way when you looked at Penny’s piano on those evenings you spent with the Dagger Squad without him. The ache was still there, but so was a new kind of longing. Part for him, but also for yourself.

But you’d made it through that deployment with the help of your three favorite sweethearts: Jo, Vera and Anne. Although you always queued up one song in particular anytime you found yourself missing him a bit more than normal.

And when Bradley returned back home to you six weeks later, it was easy to fall right back into him. That quiet period was almost too easily forgotten when he was around to fill a space.

That night at the Hard Deck when he serenaded you for the first time, it was normal for him to strut over to the old jukebox to unplug it. His timing impeccable as always, silencing whatever country song Jake had queued up.

What wasn’t normal was the way he took you by the hand leading you directly to the old upright and pulled you right onto the bench next to him.

There was already some sheet music spread across the shelf, you’d noted as he’d wiped his hands on the outside of his jeans before settling his hands on the keys. It only took you a couple bars of the intro to realize what song he was playing, already completely enamored before he’d even opened his mouth to sing.

It was your song.

Nothing in the world could ever compete with Bradley Bradshaw’s deep, raspy voice singing just for you. The significance of the song meant for you and him alone.

You heart had swelled in your chest until you thought it might burst from happiness. Never in your life had you been so thoroughly swept off your feet. It was a gesture came from his heart that made a home in yours.

Ever the showman Rooster put on a full performance, his aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose as he really leaned into it.

Your wide grin had turned to laughter when a few members of the Dagger Squad jumped in as back-up vocals, singing into their beer bottles in a way that obviously had been rehearsed. You didn’t know how he managed to keep it a secret. While Rooster was a vault in his professional life, when it came to his personal life Bradley couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

The whole bar was having fun with the jaunty tune, some couples dancing along in smooth circles on the sticky wood floor as he crooned. He’d leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek every now and then in between verses, and you’d felt yourself fall for him even harder.

He’d pulled you into his lap once he was done playing, as the din of the resumed chatter softly cocooned you. You’d seen all you needed to know reflected in his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“Will you play it again?” you’d asked against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” And you rested your head on his shoulder watching his fingers get into position on the keys once more as he played the few opening notes.

Somewhere you heard a groan followed by a grumbled, “Not again.”

“Shut it, Bagman,” you bossed at him, not even bothering to look in his direction. You only had eyes for Bradley.

“You heard the lady,” he chuckled. “Shut it, Bagman.”

And then he played it again.

take me in your arms, and never let me go

You should be asleep in your own bed and not at his place with only the soft light of the lamp above his piano and a now cold cup of tea to keep you company.

Tired of tossing and turning, you’d given up on the idea of getting any sleep at your own place after the second hour of trying. Throwing on your slippers, you’d grabbed your keys and then drove over to his place, still in the oversized t-shirt you’d put on before bed, in hopes that scent of his sheets would help lull you to sleep.

But all it did was make you miss him more.

It was too quiet without his soft breathing next to you as he held you close and tucked against his chest.

Too quiet without his records.

Too quiet without his happy humming.

Too quiet without him.

The sound of the tea kettle on his gas range had helped fill the silence, but it was his piano that had called you as you had waited for the water to boil. The sheet music you had left there from the last time you were over beckoning like a siren’s song.

It was your secret.

Only for a few more days, only until he came home.

You wanted to surprise him, to sweep him off his feet the way that he always did with you when he played for you.

During that first deployment, for the first time in years, your fingers yearned for the feel of cool, smooth keys beneath your fingers.

You hadn’t even told Bradley, the one person who would understand it the most, that you’d been thinking about it. Let alone that you were actually taking classes again. Making up excuses about manicures or errands or spin classes for why you were busy for an hour every Tuesday at five PM.

The thing that had once hurt your heart the most, was now the only thing that helped soothe the ache of missing him. The only thing that made you feel close to him when you were thousands of miles apart.

You wanted that familiar comfort of making music. You wanted it because you missed him, but you also wanted it for yourself.

A co-worker had given you the name and number for her kids’ instructor, Mrs. McMullen, an elderly woman who started teaching after her husband passed away. It took you couple weeks to work up the courage to make the call, the sticky note burning a hole in the pocket of your purse you had tucked it into.

You had been an anxious mess the day of your first lesson, hands shaking like you’d had one too many shots of espresso. It felt strange, a little surreal sitting there in the body you’d grown into on the padded bench in her cozy living room. One of the walls filled with shelves and shelves of sheet music, her own personal library.

And for a brief moment, you were transported to a different year on a different bench in a different room. Now and Then. Older and Younger. Both versions of you there to learn. All too familiar, yet entirely new.

You started with the basics. A reintroduction to those lines on the page and the notes that spoke their own language for those who knew how to read it.

Your fingers wanting to move quicker than your sluggish mind, like an echo of a memory of how it used to be. You winced and apologized after every wrong note, until she put her hand on yours, her skin looked as delicate as her fingers did, and said gently, “We learn by doing, mistakes only mean that you are trying. Once more, once again.”

After that first lesson, you’d gone back to your car and promptly burst into tears. Overwhelmed tears, happy tears. That tender part of you still soft, however no longer aching.

You’d left feeling lighter as you pulled away from her house to go meet up with everyone at the Hard Deck, but also with a packet of sheet music to practice for your next lesson.

When Rooster had told you about getting his new orders, when he had asked you again if you were still up for it. You’d told him the same thing you had at that date, you were up for it all.

You would take the sadness with the sweet any day of the week for as long as he was yours.

You’d known how you would fill the space he left behind. And exactly how you wanted to welcome him home. You’d been excited to put that certain song just for him in your cart, and then tacking on one more song to your order, a song that would be just for you.

Both you and Mrs. McMullen had be surprised at how you’d been able to pick things back up over the months, you still weren’t anywhere as good as you were when you were younger, but it wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. And when you showed up to your next lesson after your songs had been delivered, she was more than happy to help you figure out ways to simplify the songs a bit so that you’d be ready when he returned.

And now you’re bent over Bradley’s piano with a pencil tucked behind your ear as you played through the hardest bit of the song, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gone over it tonight. This morning? You were in that liminal space between yesterday and today. Where the time on the clock was just a suggestion because it felt neither here nor there.

You had practiced and practiced the song you had wanted to play for him once got home. You’re pretty sure Mav wasn’t supposed to tell you the significance of that particular song, but it had made your heart flutter wildly in your chest when he’d told you. And every time you’ve heard it since then.

It was polished, it was perfect, it was ready. All you needed was him.

The one you’re playing now con amore, with love, is the piece you pull out when you long for him the most.

The cover of the song had made you think of him from the moment you’d heard it. It was more lyrical and delicate than the original, and captured just how you felt about him. Just how much he meant to you. Sometimes you sing along with it, sometimes you just let the keys and pedals express the things you otherwise could not.

It was the song of your heart.

Your fingers trip over one of the notes yet again, probably from the lack of sleep, but you weren’t ready to crawl back into Bradley’s comfy bed. Not just yet.

Sighing, you pull the pencil from behind your ear, muttering to yourself out loud as you note the spot on the page. It was already filled with little pencil marks, some older and some newer. All made because you were trying.

Once more, once again.

Breathing out slowly, you settle your hand back on the keys-

“Can you play it from the beginning this time, sweetheart?"

Read {vol. ii} here!

He's a sneaky one, friends! I have Part 2 in the works, not to worry! We have to see how it all plays out! (put intended)

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for the grand finale!

Here's a link to the Soldiers' Sweethearts Album, if you're curious!

But this is their song, the one Bradley serenaded her with! Jo Stafford's version of 'Make Love to Me'

I ended up making two moodboards for this part!

Here's the more colorful one! And here's the more yearn-y one!

You can check out my other stories here!

And a big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me spam you about this one!

Taglist:

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