#I thought... she was just kinda new age-y... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

laligraves · 8 months ago

Text

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters.

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block.

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?”

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion.

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.”

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.”

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood.

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.”

She throws a sponge at your head.

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge.

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!”

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan.

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood.

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations.

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you.

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you.

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway.

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?”

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away.

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.”

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–”

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.”

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.”

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?”

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–”

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.”

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth.

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.”

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband.

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller .

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens.

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself.

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right.

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin.

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair.

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it.

“How did you know–”

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk.

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope.

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?”

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate.

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.”

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts.

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples.

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?”

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face.

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face.

“How dare you–”

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.”

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met.

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?”

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape.

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him.

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds.

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide.

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust.

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape.

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.”

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts.

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?”

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.”

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan.

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her.

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?”

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind.

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.”

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt.

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.”

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock.

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.”

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance.

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out.

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.”

His voice sounds annoyed at this point.

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–”

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit.

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.”

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size.

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.”

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs.

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper.

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.”

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge.

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment.

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart.

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate.

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers.

“ Please, Joel,” you whine.

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up.

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch."

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark joel miller #dark fic

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talaok · 6 months ago

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What's a fanfiction?

"You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: By mistake, you send Joel, your neighbor, your dad’s best friend, a fanfic you wrote, and when you go to his house to talk to him about it, your worst fear comes to life… and then your biggest dream.

Warnings: age-gap, he blackmails you (but youre very much into it) smut| oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, 1 lil threat of anal, p in v sex, creampie, sir kink, small little breeding kink moment, so much degradation, and a lil bit of praising.

a/n: i am aware this is not written very well, but i was thinking too much and then i remembered that at the end of the day i do this for fun and its not that serious, so please overlook all the shitty parts. love ya very much<3

Read.

Read-

He read it. He fucking read it and you're gonna jump off a cliff and die.

You swore- you fucking swore you sent it to Miley yesterday night. Right before you went to sleep, you finished writing it and sent to her- except obviously, that wasn't what had fucking happened.

You'd sent it to him

And now you needed to find a fucking solution.

__ __ __

God even knocking felt like torture,

"oh hi y/n" Sarah's smile was nothing like her dad's, it was all kindness and sweetness, while Joel's... well Joel's always had something strange lurking behind his.

"Hi Sarah" you forced your lips to mimic hers, although the nerves were making it difficult "Is your dad home? I kinda need to talk to him"

"mh-mh" she nodded, gesturing for you to come in "he's in his study upstairs"

You stepped into the house just as she crouched down to pick up a gym bag

"You know where that is right?" she asked "I'm late for practice, I gotta go"

You felt your heart drop as her words sank in.

She was going out- she would be leaving you alone with him, in his house, in his study-

But then again, considering what it was you were here to talk about, maybe it was for the best.

"Yeah, don't worry" you forced another smile

"great" she beamed "see you later then"

And just like that, she was out of the house, and you were sole in the middle of your neighbor's entrance.

__ __ __

Again, another knock that felt very much like a punch to the gut

"come in"

His voice was warm and strong like it always was, that same voice that made your panties dampen just at the thought of it.

"H-hey Mr. Miller" you swallowed thickly, pushing open the door as if an army of zombies waited on the other side

"Darlin'" he nodded at you from behind his wooden desk, a hint of a grin shadowing his lips

Darlin'

God this fucking man

"h-hey" you said again, cursing internally while you tried remembering why you were even there.

Oh, right. Just about the most awkward thing ever.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand.

"Whatcha doing here, doll?"

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and then you felt your eyes fall to the floor as your hands fiddled with the edge of your skirt.

The skirt you purposely wore to come here- for him-

god what a stupid fucking-

"Thatta real pretty skirt you got on"

Your eyes snapped up to him, but he took his time glancing away from your legs.

"Oh- I- thank you" you murmured

"Jus' call 'em like I see 'em, darlin'" he shrugged, leaning back into his chair "Now's that all you came here for? To show me your new pretty skirt?"

"n-no" you rushed in to say, perhaps too quickly to be fully believable "I came here because I- uhm" You bit your bottom lip, the nervous fiddling starting back up again

"I ain't gonna bite babydoll"

Fuck- at this rate your panties would start melting.

"last night-" you gulped "I kinda- I... well I sent you something by mistake"

"ah" he hummed, raising his brows as he clicked on something on the laptop next to him "I gotta say, issa real... interesting story this one"

No-

Fuck my life and everything ever in the existence of the universe fuckfuckfuck-

"who's..." he trailed off, reading off his screen "Javier?"

Your lungs had turned to stone and your mind to dust.

This couldn't be really happening, no, I mean, even if he'd read it for some reason he surely wouldn't be... taunting you for it.

"Mr. Miller-"

"real lucky guy" he said, his lips twitching into a soft smirk as he looked at you curiously "You brought him home to meet your daddy yet?"

"n-no" you stuttered, your mind a big ashamed mess and your whole body frozen like a statue "n-no he's not... real"

You watched his brows come together in confusion.

"what's that mean he ain't real?"

A shaky sigh fled your lips as you surrendered to your fate

"He's a character... f-from a tv show"

He remained silent, and as comfortable with silence as you were it was a different kind of story when Joel Miller was staring at you... so you talked again.

"T-that's a fanfiction, I- I write them sometimes, it's... fun"

His eyes searched yours for answers, faint amusement sparking in the back of his irises.

"what's a fanfiction, doll?"

Death wasn't such a scary thing after all- yeah it sure as hell was a better alternative to this.

"It's a... made-up story, that people- that I- sometimes write about fictional characters I like- a-and then I post it for p-people to read"

"And this Javier..."

"Narcos" you blurted out "H-he's from the show Narcos, he's not real"

His mouth twitched into a subtle smile, his eyes raking all over your body as if he was checking to see if it was really you in front of him

"I've seen that show" he said, his brow raising "Ain't he a bit old for you, babydoll?"

"Y-yes well- I-I-"

But you had no excuse for that, you could never tell him the truth, about how much you liked older men... about all the celebrity crushes double your age- so you just bit your lip, looking down at the floor.

The noise of his chair creaking as he got up made your heart skip a beat, but it stopped completely only when you heard him step closer to you... until he was right before you.

The only thing you could see were the socks covering his feet, and part of his black jeans- you didn't have it in you to actually look at him, to see him laughing at you, but you had no other choice when two of his fingers pulled your chin up.

"so you sit in your room, imagining this old man doin' all this stuff to you, and then you write it down?" he spoke, his beautiful mouth so very close to you "And here I was thinkin' you were a good little girl"

Your breath caught in your throat at those words, and he... yeah he definitely noticed.

"Please don't tell my dad"

"well I don't know" he moved some hair from your face, "I think this is somethin' your daddy ought to know"

a well of fear dipped into your belly, your eyes widening

"n-no please" you begged "Please Mr. Miller don't, I'll do anything- anything at all"

"oh sweetie" he cooed, "that ain't somethin' you can tell a man, especially not after he's read all the dirty things you fantasize about in your pretty little head"

"Mr Miller-" you bit your lip

"Mr Miller?" he repeated, looking down at you like you were the smallest little creature in the world "That ain't what you were calling Javi now, was it?"

A small, almost imperceptible gasp left your mouth.

He couldn't be saying... no right?- except...

"Joel-"

"that ain't it either" he shook his head, his thumb tracing the shape of your lower lip "you know what it is babygirl"

Either you were gonna make a fool of yourself, or this really was what he wanted.

"S-sir"

The slightest, most feline smirk pulled at his lips in satisfaction "thatta girl" he murmured "you don't want your dad to know what a dirty lil' girl his daughter really is?"

His breath was fanning on your mouth, and his touch was making your legs turn to jelly.

"n-no" you shook your head almost imperceptibly

"no?" he asked again, just to see you squirm, just to savor this moment for a little bit more.

"no sir"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat, his eyes looking into yours, memorizing every inch of your face, of the anxiety, the ardor, the plead in your expression.

"then get on your knees"

Your eyes widened in shock, the air going up your throat suddenly getting stuck

"w-wha-"

"what?" he asked, not even sounding like himself anymore. His tone was sweet, calm even, but something almost dire lurked underneath his words.

"you seemed eager to do it when Javi asked" he tilted his head, his fingers still holding your chin.

If you didn't know better you would have guessed it was jealousy that traced his tone whenever he spoke the name of your fantasies's protagonist... little did he know the main reason why you even liked Javier was his resemblance to him- to Joel.

"Mr- sir" you stuttered "I-"

"I don't like to repeat myself y/n" he spoke sternly, his eyes boring into yours "Do you want your daddy to know or not?"

You didn't need to answer, you only held his stare as he let your face go, and you slowly, unsurely, and awkwardly got to your knees.

"wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked, his eyes dark enough to fade into the night sky "what are you waiting for?"

"I-"

"You need instructions babydoll?" he chuckled "'cause I ain't gonna give 'em to ya" he said while your heart pounded in your chest "I know you know how to do it" he smirked "Described it so well in your little fanfiction"

"b-but I-" you tried to take a deep breath but doing anything while he towered over you, while his crotch was right in your line of sight was proving to be very very difficult "I've only ever done this once" you gulped, trying to keep eye contact

"yeah?" he smiled, his hand going to the top of your head, gently patting it...that really shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. "then how come you knew exactly what to do with Javi? don't tell me you just guessed"

He either didn't believe you, or was really not expecting that. But it was the truth- you'd only ever done anything once... and it's not like it had even felt that great.

"Well, I- I do research... and I- I read a lot"

If you thought he looked predatorial before... you had no idea how bad it could really get.

"research huh?" he mocked, his voice as deep as it could get "Oh baby you're digging yourself a hole here" he tsked, shaking his head while looking almost disappointed "I really think your daddy ought to know about all the research his lil' girl's doing under his roof"

"No!" you begged, your bottom lip trembling.

"No?" he asked, tracing it with his thumb "Then I suggest you make it good, babygirl"

And that was that.

Your trembling hands undid his belt, then lowered his zipper, and finally pulled his pants down until they pooled at his feet.

Fuck

He was huge- even with the boxers still on it was very clear the man was just massive-

"I don't like to be teased y/n"

"s-sorry sir" you responded automatically, noticing his cock twitch within the confines of the fabric in appreciation of your obedience.

You had to do it slowly, you had to pull his boxers down slowly so you could have time to calm down, to not panic in front of the huge cock that was gonna be right in front of you at any moment-

And yet it didn't work- a soft gasp fled your mouth as you freed his manhood.

He only chuckled, watching the fear in your eyes, and quite frankly, very much enjoying it.

"I'll tell ya if you're doing it wrong" he simply spoke, his hand going to the back of your head to guide you closer to where he wanted you.

He was getting impatient. And you didn't want to disappoint him.

Yes, he was blackmailing you, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been dreaming of this for years.

You looked like a frightened kid as you wrapped your right hand around him, and you looked even more out of place as you opened your mouth and started fitting his length inside of it.

A weak grunt rumbled from his chest "Hollow your cheeks" he ordered, having you obey in a heartbeat.

"fuck that's good" he groaned now, watching you intently as you started bobbing your head, trying to fit more of him into your mouth "Good little slut"

You didn't know a moan was gonna flee your mouth until it had- until your whole face felt hot and you waited terrified for Joel's reaction.

Exect he was smiling- no- grinning like you'd just given him the best gift he'd ever received.

"Oh, you're really something else ain't ya, darlin'?"

"mhp" Your muffled noises were all the more entertaining to him, especially paired up with the sight of your thighs rubbing together.

You were so fucking wet you feared at any moment you would start dripping onto the floor.

"so needy" he murmured, his hand now gathering your hair in a makeshift bun "You wanna touch yourself, baby girl? wanna feel good while you make me feel good?"

"mh-mh" you tried to nod, to beg, to say yes please for the love of god let me.

"that's too bad" he tutted, sounding like he was holding back a laugh "Javi didn't let you do that now, did he?" he smirked "You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

But before you had time to ask yourself if he meant all of it, he'd spoken again.

"that all you can take?" he asked, watching the first half of his cock in your mouth with amusement "Here- how 'bout I help you out darlin'" he smirked, his hips retracting just to thrust into your mouth-

It wasn't a hard jab, but still you choked, and then you choked some more as he did it again, watching you fit more of him into your mouth as saliva drooled to your chin and your eyes watered.

You could feel the texture of every inch of his dick with your tongue, the feel of his veins, and the taste of his precum were all you were aware of.

"like that- see, jus' needed a lil' help" he groaned "Even a slut like you needs it sometimes"

His pace had quickened, and tears were now streaming down your face.

"shh" he shushed you once you choked yet another time "I know it's big baby" he cooed, his thrust much less gentle than his words, although that was all an act too "I know, I know... but you're gonna have to be a good whore for me and take it aaall into that slutty little throat, ok?" he murmured "just try to breathe through your nose"

What did he mean try?

What if you tried and failed?

But you weren't actually worried- you had never thought being horny could actually be painful, and yet, there you were, literally so wet and turned on it hurt.

You couldn't even see him anymore through all the tears covering your eyes, and you didn't even realize you were actively choking and making a complete mess of yourself, all you could feel was his big fat cock, and dream about how it would feel inside of you.

"God fuckin-" He groaned like an animal as he finally bottomed out, his dick making a permanent dent into your throat at this point "Jesus Christ"

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching you struggle, and then, just like that, he was out- and you could breathe again.

He didn't even give you time to catch your breath, to finish coughing like a maniac that he'd already given you another order.

"get up," he said "take off your clothes"

He really did want to recreate the fic- you were- you were about to have sex with Joel Miller, THE Joel Miller, your neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller.

oh fuck

"What did I say about repeating myself?"

You scrambled to your feet, pulling your shirt off at the same time.

You heard him snort but didn't pay it any mind as you took your bra and skirt off as quickly as you could.

You really were desperate.

But when it came to your panties you slowed, everything suddenly feeling very real.

"what are you waiting for?"

"s-sorry sir" you mumbled, finally dropping them at your feet.

A soft groaned fuck climbed up his throat as he examined every inch of your body.

You would be covering yourself, feeling a little self-conscious, if it wasn't for the fact that his gaze had turned you to stone.

"pick your panties up" he said as if getting out of a trance.

You frowned, confused, but obeyed nonetheless.

Maybe he didn't like the mess...

"Put 'em in the first drawer," he said, nodding back to his desk.

He followed your every move as you walked past him, but it was only when you were at his desk, that he started stalking towards you.

He was right beside you now, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his shirt, because your back was now pressed against his chest, and your ass was right against something else.

"I'm keepin' those" he murmured, his deep voice right next to your ear, his hands going to grip your waist.

You dropped the panties where he asked and nodded, turning to him, finding his face, his mouth, but an inch from your own.

"Yes sir"

His cock twitched again right against your backside as his mouth ghosted yours.

"Bend over"

You swallowed thickly, doing as he said.

You shivered feeling the table's cold wood meet your skin, but you got hot all over again once you felt Joel's words.

"Spread your legs"

You did.

"What an obedient slut I've turned you into" he grinned, proud of himself

"Where do you want it?"

You felt his cock slide between your cheeks, making you whimper and arch your back.

"here?" he slid it in between your legs, connecting with your clit.

You moaned as you shook your head no

"here?" he asked again, this time his dick prodding at your asshole.

You gasped as you mumbled "N-no sir- please"

"You want in your throat again babydoll, 's that it?" he teased you, his tip still leaving smears of his precum on your hole

"mh-mh" you shook your head no again "Please"

"no?" he snickered, "Then where?"

"Here?" he asked, the tip of his dick finally getting exactly where you wanted him "in your slutty lil' pussy?"

"yes- p-please sir- I-"

"say it" he taunted you, almost slipping in.

"I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Y-Your cock sir" you begged

"Where do you need my cock?"

"I-I need it in my pussy" you cried- he was so close if he would just- "I need your cock in my pussy sir, please I- I'm begging you-"

"good little slut"

He pushed in with one singular, hard thrust, making you cry out so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.

He was so big it kind of burned at first, but as he thrust in again and you heard him groan in pleasure, there was no going back- you were in complete bliss... and your brain had turned to mush.

You were moaning- loudly.

"fuck-" he grunted "you're such a whore darlin'"

The sound of how wet you were as he plunged into your heat was filthy.

"Y'know- I usually give women an orgasm before I fuck 'em," he said as his balls slapped rhythmically against your skin "but you're just a whore- and whores don't deserve to be treated with respect, do ya?" Your back arched, feeding him more of yourself as your walls squeezed around him "Nah, you deserve to be used. Used like the little sluts that you are" he kept grunting, not paying any mind to how loud you were being, or how the desk had started to slip because of how hard his thrusts were "And it ain't like you need it, is it darlin'?" he chuckled, suddenly pulling you up, his right arm around your torso keeping you pinned against him "you're makin' a mess" he murmured into your ear, shivers running up your spine "and besides, this' how you wanted it- wrote it jus' like this in your lil' story didn't ya, ya little slut?"

He bit your earlobe just as his dick hit your cervix, making your brain short-circuit.

It was all so hot- so fucking hot.

"I can't imagine what your daddy would say" his mouth was on your neck now, but his pace was the same as ever, as hard and unapologetic as it could get "knowing what nasty things his little girl likes to think- to write" he chuckled "bet the poor guy would have the fuckin' big one if he knew"

"if he knew how you like to be fucked by men 30 years older than you" he groaned, feeling you squeeze him as you whimpered his name incoherently "if he knew how tight you get when I tell you how much of a slut you are"

Your eyes were rolled back, and your head had dropped against his chest

"please"

"If he knew how good you fuckin' take my cock" he murmured right against your mouth, your legs trembling "How desperate you are for it"

He was going even faster, and he was now supporting your whole body because your legs weren't working anymore.

"If he knew what a fuckin' whore he raised" he grunted, plunging his cock as deep as it could go, molding your body to him "how she's my whore now"

And that was it- that was it.

You felt actual tears stream down your cheeks as bliss took over your body- as you cried and moaned and trembled until you were done, until you'd finally recovered.

"I'm gonna come inside babygirl" It wasn't a question, it was an order, just like every one he'd given you for the past hour "Jus' like Javi" he grunted, his thrusts more erratic now "except this is real life baby- and you better hope it doesn't stick" he smirked, feeling your walls squeeze involuntarily at his words "God you're such a slut"

"Now take it all like a good one"

You couldn't help but join his moaning as he came, as he filled you up to the very brim.

You were a mess- cum was already running down your thighs as he slipped out of you, but you still followed his lead and started dressing again- only your panties were in his drawer and the walk back home would be a real awkward one.

"You post these stories?"

There was no point in lying, you'd already confessed to it.

"I- yes" you swallowed, putting your bra on "o-on Tumblr"

You could very well see he'd never heard of the app

"How are you called on there?"

He'd stepped closer to you, watching you fiddle with your shirt in your hands.

His belt was unbuckled, his jeans still open, and you were starting to feel ready for round two already.

"S-sir you want t-to-”

"I gotta know what other things your daddy can't know about” he murmured, moving a piece of hair from your face “and all the things I’m gonna do to my lil’ slut”

2K notes · View notes

sceletaflores · 8 months ago

Note

Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up

— or: art donaldson needs a massage therapist…

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

author's note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you.

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone.

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you.

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you.

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.”

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller.

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey.

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands.

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure, "Just try to relax.”

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter.

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything.

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings."

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done.

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up.

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you.

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back.

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house.

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things.

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her.

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.”

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience.

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to.

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing.

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold.

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment.

The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want you.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk out that door right now and never step foot in their house again.

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything.

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now.

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him.

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over.

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly.

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue.

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.”

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest.

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist.

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from.

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room.

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying.

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it.

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you.

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you.

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself.

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you. Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets.

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours.

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him.

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit.

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter.

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining.

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” You whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips.

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan.

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you’ve had with her over the weeks.

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

2K notes · View notes

natashashill · 7 days ago

Text

mama’s girl

pairing: perv neighbor!agatha x reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ kinda dun-con, manipulation, pervy acts: stealing underwear and hidden camera, guided masturbation, guided a lot of things actually, lots of titty sucking (& play), pussy eating & fingering, orgasm control, bondage, marking, possessive agatha, edging, age gap, & stalking lmk if i missed anything

a/n: this is definitely a dark fic so read at your own risk! also just a reminder that my page is not for minors <3

summary: you introduced yourself to your new neighbor and she takes a liking to you

You had moved into a new apartment after graduating college, and decided to introduce yourself to people living across the hall. You were absolutely thrilled when the door opened, and an older brunette woman opened the door. All thoughts of yours went out the window as she greeted you hello.

“Hi- Hi! I’m Y/N, I just moved in across the hall and I just wanted to introduce myself. I- uh made you some cookies as a sign of good faith. I’m trying to make some friends or uh at least friendly faces. Umm yeah so if you ever need anything I’ll be across the hall.”

“Thank you very much sweetheart. That’s quite a sweet gesture hun. Why don’t I tell you what, why don’t we do dinner sometime together? Would that be okay with you sweetness?”

“Yes! We can do dinner at mine this Friday at 7 if that works, I’ve been meaning to try out a few recipes if that’s okay with you.”

“Perfectly fine, I’ll see you on Friday honey.”

You giddly skipped back to your room, unaware of the thoughts swirling in Agatha’s head. You had made quite the impression on her. After you left, Agatha had to take quite a few breaths after seeing you. You were such a sweet and innocent sight, and she just had to have you for herself. She couldn’t wait for Friday, she had the perfect opportunity to start leaving her claim on you. She took a bite out of your cookie, and fuck, she couldn’t wait for Friday.

The rest of the week dragged around slowly for both of you. You couldn’t shake your hot neighbor out of your head, although you felt guilty for crushing on her. Opposingly, Agatha has been keeping tabs on you, she’s found where you work and found your socials online. She spent a significantly long time through your Instagram, enjoying herself while discovering the bikini pics you’ve posted from your last vacation.

When it’s time to head over on Friday, she carries a larger than necessary bag. You let her inside, your stomach swirling at the sight of her dressed up. She greets you with a hug and a kiss on each cheek, and your breath catches in your throat. She hands you a bottle of wine she brought over, and you hurriedly rush into the kitchen to break it open. She uses this opportunity to take a look around your house, finding her way into the bedroom. She immediately starts on pulling out the secret camera she brought, placing it onto one of your picture frames facing your bed. Making sure you didn’t come back, she starts going through your drawers until she finds your underwear drawer, digging through and grabbing a few to take home. She stuffs them into her purse and starts to take a look around your room, observing all the decorations you have up.

You walk into your room and see her observing a picture of yours.

“Agatha? What are you doing in here?”

“Oh sweetheart, forgive me. I was trying to find your bathroom to freshen up and came in here instead. I saw these adorable pictures and got distracted.”

A small blush forms at your cheeks at her comments and you guide her back towards your living room. She flashes you a grateful smile at the glass of wine and you can feel yourself falling for her with every passing moment. Dinner went smoothly, and you sighed in relief when Agatha showed signs that she enjoyed your food. She moaned out in delight at your cooking, and your cheeks flushed even further when your mind thought of where else she would make those noises. Dessert continued to be a success and she thanked you for the beautiful meal.

You both talk for quite a bit that night, Agatha trying to find out anything she could about you. You found it sweet how Agatha took so much interest in you, asking you many questions about your life. You answered her questions honestly and started rambling about your life to her. Agatha looked at you so sweetly but there was something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. You brushed it off, blaming it on the wine. Agatha’s delighted at all the information you gave for her including that you’re single, you started a new job as a receptionist, and you’ve just moved here away from most of your friends and family. The night goes swimmingly with both of you laughing and chatting about work and it’s past midnight when Agatha leaves your apartment. She heads straight to the bedroom, not bothering to take off her shoes before unzipping her dress and taking one of your panties out of her bag.

She starts to grind against your panties, the lace feeling heavenly against her clit as she moans out your name. The thoughts of you tonight flashing your precious eyes at her takes her over the edge, and she collapses against her bed, she decides she’ll clean up tomorrow.

She runs into you tomorrow while you’re about to leave your apartment, finding you dressed up in a tight dress and some heels.

“Oh, hi Agatha. I’m headed out for a date right now. This girl asked me out today while I was getting my coffee. I have to go now but I’ll see you around. We should grab dinner sometime, I’ll text you!”

Agatha bids you goodbye, wishing you good luck before entering her place and heading straight to the bedroom. She fishes out another pair of panties of yours and puts it on while grabbing a vibrator and placing over her clothed clit, grinding and bucking as her juices leaked out and into your panties. She pulls out her phone and opens the app connected to the camera in your room. She scrolls back to the footage from earlier today, watching you get ready. She nearly came as soon as she saw you, but took her time as she watched you get ready, enjoying the way your precious body looked. Her orgasm fell over her in waves, desperation rolled over her as she had to have you.

The next time you both get together, Agatha makes sure to dress to get your attention. She knows that you have a small crush on her, but she needs you desperate for her. It seemed to have worked, as Agatha noticed your eyes on her the entire night, even stuttering over your words a little when she decided to hold eye contact with you. Your heart nearly stopped when she went to wipe a food stain near your lips, licking her finger before gently wiping it off. She pats your cheek before she heads back to your seat, and she knows she has you hooked.

“So honey, how’s everything going with you? Anyone you’ve been intimate with recently? You’ve been going on quite a few dates.”

Your face heats up at her question and you just duck your head out of embarrassment. You’ve never actually had sex with someone before and you were sure Agatha would laugh at you, obviously she was expecting to share and reflect on details of both of your sex lives. You look up at her sheepishly and she tilts her head curiously.

“I- uh well, I’ve never actually had sex with someone. It sounds stupid but I’ve never found someone to do it with and I’m too scared I’ll be bad at it now.”

“Oh sweetheart, you poor thing. Let me help you sweetheart. I’ll teach you all you need to know and show you exactly what it feels like.”

“You would do that for me? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you’re probably not interested in a girl like me.”

“Nonsense sweetheart. I’ll help a sweet thing like you out. We can start off with weekly lessons and adjust as needed, we can do them on Fridays, right around this time. Here, why don’t we just get started right now. I want you to undress for me sweetheart while making eye contact, and take your time with it.”

You followed her directions exactly, locking eyes with her while slowly lifting your shirt up. At the pleased smile on her face, you shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you half-naked under her gaze.

“Very good sweetheart, now why don’t you take off your bra for me. We’ll start easy for today, only playing with your boobs. A very important rule I have sweetheart, is that you will not touch yourself unless I give you permission, do you understand me? I don’t want you to explore by yourself sweetheart, you might hurt yourself.”

You nodded while undoing the clasp for the bra, letting your perky boobs show.

“Very good darling, now I want you to hold them and move them around slowly, and see how it feels.”

“Feels good.”

“Oh and one more thing sweetheart, you’re going to start addressing me as mommy from now on, understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes mommy, I understand.”

“Good girl, go ahead and squeeze them for me. Take your time and squeeze.”

You were a bit confused and tried to squeeze them but it didn’t feel right.

“Here honey, let me help you. Just hold your tits up for me sweetheart, I’ll show you how to pleasure yourself.”

You feel a certain wetness as she walks over to you and grabs both of your tits with your hands. You let her squeeze and grab and pull as she wanted, the pleasure clouding over your brain.

“Now sweetheart, I’m going to lick your nipples okay? I promise you’re going to feel so good baby, let mommy show you.”

You nodded and she brings her mouth to your left tit, engulfing your perked up nipple. You let out a small moan when you feel her start to suck. You can feel her smirk and chuckle around your nipple and let out a small apology.

“No need sweetheart. Moan as loud as you want for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty noises coming out of your mouth.”

With that she switches over to your right nipple, giving just as much attention as she gave your left. You let out breathy moans for her and she starts to suck even harder. She guides you to lay down on the sofa while worshipping your breasts, making sure you’d be thinking about her for the next week.

She pulls away from your tits, a trail of saliva connecting her mouth to you before she eagerly connects your lips. She moans into the kiss as she sucks at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth letting her inside. She completely dominates the kiss and it turns you fuzzy. You kiss back passionately, trying to please her the best you could. She doesn’t let you breathe, too focused on claiming your lips. She eventually pulls away, pupils dilated and breath heavy.

“Baby, it’s your turn now. I want you to practice what you just learned, okay? Practice on mama sweetheart.”

Agatha pulls down her zipper and exposes her tits to you, she had omitted her bra for the night. She guided your head to one of her nipples, and you eagerly latched on. You loved this position, being so close to Agatha had your mind blanking. The only thing you could think about was staying close to Agatha, your hands roaming her tits, exploring and playing as you eagerly continued sucking on Agatha. You switched your mouth over to her other nipples and renewed sucking, moaning at the action. Agatha couldn’t believe her luck, how easily you fell into her, and how much you loved this. It would be so easy to just have you spread your legs apart and let Agatha finger you have you fall apart on her lap. The thought had her mind reeling and she realized it was time to cut it off for the night, before she couldn't control herself anymore.

When she pulls you away, you look up at her pouting, eager to go back to what you were doing. Agatha tells you it’s enough for the first lesson, and we can carry on next week. She gently cups your cheek before kissing you goodbye. You stand up with her, putting on your bra before seeing her out the door. You give a small wave goodbye before heading into bed, your mind running blank at the events of the evening. The rest of the week went no better for you, you could barely focus on work, only thinking about the next time you would see Agatha.

Agatha was seeming to handle the gap a lot better than you, using your lacy underwear and her toys to get herself while thinking of how easily you trusted her to touch you. She couldn’t wait for your lesson this week.

When Friday rolled around, you put on your prettiest set of lingerie, hoping it would impress Agatha. You were a skimpy dress, one that would be easier for Agatha. You had everything perfectly set up for when she arrived, and now you were just waiting for her to knock on your door. See Agatha wanted to fuck with you a bit, she knew that you’d be so eager and pliant for her, but she had to keep you just as desperate for her. She purposely arrived a few minutes late, knowing your brain would be just that much happier to see her.

You welcomed her with a hug before moving back to the couch, waiting for her next move. You were surprised to see her sit so close to you, but you weren’t complaining when you saw the low cut top she was wearing again.

“Now sweetheart, today’s lesson is going to be very up close and personal. I need you to trust mommy to show you what to do and let mommy make the best decisions for you, alright? As a reward, if you’re good for mama, I’ll let you play with mama’s nipples again. You be good for me and you can play again since you liked that so much.”

“Yes, mommy. I’ll be good for you.”

“That’s my girl, let’s get you out of this dress hm?” When Agatha saw what you wore underneath your dress, she was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that you were trying to seduce her, “What’s this sweetheart? You were trying to get mommy all worked up hm? Did you think this would help you?”

“No- no mommy. I just wanted you to like me and I thought you would like it if I wore something pretty.”

Agatha smiled at you, of course you had just wanted to please her, you were her innocent girl after all.

“Alright sweetheart, I’m going to remove your panties now. I want you to keep your hands on the couch when I touch you.”

You placed your palms firmly on the couch, gripping tighter as Agatha got closer to your core. She used a finger to swirl and stroke around your entrance but she never entered. She played around like that for a few minutes, watching how wet you quickly became. She gently pushed a finger into you, delighted at the load gasp you let out. She placed a gentle kiss to your thigh before pushing her finger deeper and then pulling it back out. Agatha repeated the motion for a bit, letting you get used to the intrusion, before picking up the pace and watching the way your face contorted in pleasure. She continued the pace for a bit before slipping in another finger.

You started to let out loud moans of her name, unable to control yourself with this new feeling inside of you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, and your moans continued to grow loader. Agatha watched how easily you took her fingers, throbbing and pulsing around them. She could tell you were getting closer to an orgasm and removed her fingers. She brought them up to her mouth to taste, and she couldn’t control her moan at how good you tasted.

“You did so well for me baby. I’m going to show you something else babygirl and then I’ll let you have a turn with mommy okay? Stay good for me, you’re my perfect angel.”

At that, Agatha took her thumb to your clit, before pressing down. You let out a yelp at that, and she swirled her thumb around in apology. She kept playing around, enjoying how nicely you moaned for her, and how desperate your pussy was with the way it was clenching around nothing. She decided to taste you from the source, replacing her thumb with her tongue and swirling delicately around your sensitive nub. You moaned even louder at that and Agatha chuckled directly into you. She continued her teasing, bringing her tongue down your slit, licking a few stripes before teasing your entrance and then pulling away all together.

Your mouth hung open trying to catch your breath when Agatha pulled away, and she knew she had you right where she wanted you.

“Alright baby, you were so good for me. I’ll let you pick your reward honey. Do you wanna play with mama’s boobs or her pussy?”

“Umm, I don’t know mommy, what if I’m not good at playing with your pussy? I like playing with your boobs.”

“Oh sweetheart, how about you give it a chance alright? I’ll let you play extra with my boobs if it’ll make you feel better.”

You nod at her, and she leans back against the couch with her leg spread open.

“Okay baby, why don’t you kneel in front of me. It’ll make things easier for you.”

Ever so obedient, you immediately kneel in front, and make your way to undo her skirt. Agatha helps you in ridding her skirt and underwear, before spreading her legs open for you, allowing you to see her glistening pussy.

“Now baby, I’ll give you a few minutes to let you play however you want, but when I tell you to, enter two of your fingers inside of me okay?”

You nod before letting your fingers roam through her slit, sliding through a few times before reaching her clit. When you peer up at Agatha, she’s breathing heavily so you assume you’re doing something right. You gently rub at her clit, smiling when she lets out a moan. Agatha snakes a hand into your hair, and you let that be your sign to continue.

“Baby, I want you to go inside me now okay? Mommy wants to feel good.”

You slipped two fingers inside and started pumping them inside. The hand in your hair tightened and you continued your pace, spurred on by her moans. You continue to finger her but your mouth can’t resist the sight of clit. You take it into your mouth and Agatha nearly screams at the sensation.

“Oh, oh just like that angel. You’re making me feel so good sweetheart, I’m so close angel just keep going. So good for me honey.”

You double your efforts, desperate to please her. In a couple more sucks, you feel a warm liquid gush out of Agatha and you eagerly lap it up, becoming addicted to the taste. She gently pulls you away from her core and into her lap.

“Oh my darling, you were such a good girl for me baby. Do you want mommy’s boobs now? You can have anything you like doll.”

“I want your boobies mommy, but I have a question for you.”

“What is it baby?”

“What was the liquid at the end, I didn’t have that when you were playing with me mommy.”

“Oh honey. That's what happens with you have an orgasm. I haven’t given you one yet because I want you to be able to focus on properly learning sweetheart. I was going to introduce orgasms to you at our next lesson.”

You nodded at her before tugging at her top, begging to see her tits again. Agatha removes her top and bra for you, and you eagerly dive in. She lets you rest against her as you seek her out and she sighs in relief. Her plan was falling nicely into place and she couldn’t be happier. Before long, Agatha realized how late it was for you and decided to call it a night. She pressed a gentle kiss to you before leaving, promising how good the next lesson will be for you if you remembered her rules. You promised her before shutting the door behind her.

You immediately headed into the shower to try and calm down. Everything about tonight made your head spin and you didn’t want to be apart from Agatha. You tucked yourself to bed and hoped that this week would fly by.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t escape the curiosity of an orgasm. You wanted to know what it felt like and you weren’t sure if you could wait all the way until Friday. You laid down in bed fully naked. You felt really awkward doing this, it didn’t feel anything remote to what you were doing with Agatha, that was what made you excited.

Your finger approached your core and you weren’t even sure what to do first. You let yourself explore for a few minutes but it didn’t feel anything close to how Agatha had touched you. Rubbing your clit didn’t help much either, and you groaned out in frustration. All of a sudden you realized you had broken Agatha’s rules. Suddenly you shot out of bed and started panicking. What if she stopped seeing you after this because you became her bad girl? You burst out into tears and realized you needed to see her right now. Little did you know, Agatha watched the whole thing go down through her camera. She had been checking up on you to make sure you were obeying her, and she was thoroughly disappointed to see you breaking her rules. What she didn’t expect even more was you knocking at her door, half naked in tears.

She ushered you inside and brought you in for a hug, trying to figure out what happened.

“Mommy, I’m so sorry. I- I’m so sorry mommy. I was a bad girl. I messed up. I’m so sorry you have to forgive me, I wasn’t thinking properly. I’ll never do anything like this again, please don’t hate me mama.”

Agatha took pity on you and decided to take it easy on you. “What do you mean baby? What happened sweetheart? I would never hate you.”

“I- I broke your rule,” you hiccuped between words, completely overwhelmed with your current situation. “I was curious about what you said about orgasming and I wanted to see what it was and practice on myself. I didn’t even get to touch myself very well because it didn’t feel like when you did it but I still broke your rule and I’m sorry.”

You were wailing at this point and Agatha felt sorry for you. Did she hate that you disobeyed her? Yes. However she was just going to edge you once before letting you orgasm.

“Oh my darling, you’re still my girl sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m disappointed in you but you’ll just take a punishment and if you behave through your punishment, I’ll show you an orgasm.”

You immediately agreed, desperate to get in her good graces.

She laid you down over her couch while removing whatever clothing you had found to cover yourself. Her fingers immediately sunk into your pussy and set an unforgiving pace, you had moaned and wailed around her but you took it, allowing Agatha to use you as she pleased. She knew best after all. You felt a weird sensation in your lower belly and you tried to warn Agatha. She pulled out of you after that. You couldn’t hold back your whine and she stroked your hair.

“Tell me what you want baby.”

“I want you mommy. I want you to play with me all the time, I don’t want to wait until just Fridays anymore. I wanna be with you and sleep with you afterwards and go on dates with you.”

“Sounds an awful lot like you want to be my girl honey. Is that it? You want to be my girl, have mama take care of you? Well, I can’t say I’d be opposed to it. It would be nice to have my baby girl by my side all the time hm. l would like that angel.”

You beam at her and Agatha can’t resist kissing you deeply. Her tongue enters your mouth and immediately establishes dominance, sucking and swirling against yours. You’re breathless when she pulls away, and you immediately chase her lips.

Agatha throws you over her shoulder and brings you into her bedroom, desperate to claim you as hers. She lays you down in the middle of the bed before shuffling through her drawer and pulling out some ribbon. She toes your hands to her bed posts and you peer up at her confused. You refuse to voice anything, not when you were so close to your reward. She starts trailing kisses down your body, taking her time to explore all of you. She leaves hickeys in her wake, and she knows you’ll be wearing her marks for the next few days. The thought fills her with need and she hurries her exploration, stopping right at your glistening pussy.

Agatha dives right in, lapping at your wetness before focusing her attention on your clit. She sucks hard, enjoying the way she can feel you pulse. Your moans are music to her ears and she enters you again, fingering you hard and fast, building you back up to where you were before. She curls her fingers to hit your spongy spot and your mind goes blank. You moan loudly and completely go limp, letting Agatha use your pussy. You feel the same pressure in your tummy again.

“Mama, mama please I feel weird.”

“Oh honey, mama knows. Let go for mama, you’re doing so well for me precious.”

Her words spur you on and you’re falling apart against her fingers, moaning loudly and twitching as you ride out your orgasm. You lay there limply afterwards and Agatha immediately rushes to untie you.

The moment she comes back near you, you cling to her, desperately latching on to her. She lays down comfortably next to you and you immediately bring your head to her chest, right next to her boob. Agatha has an inkling for what you want so she unties her robe, giving you full access to her. Your head piques up with interest and she guides you towards her nipple where you happily latch on. She lets you enjoy your suckling, stroking your head while quietly praising you.

You fall asleep with your mouth latched to her nipple and your other hand by her stomach. Agatha has never been happier, wearing a giddy smile as she starts to feel drowsy. She’ll take down her cameras soon, knowing that she’ll eventually have you living with her anyways. Pressing another kiss to your head, she lets sleep claim her knowing she has everything she wants.

notes: i feel like this is terrible so im very very sorry if it is 😔

tag list: @morbidlcve

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #marvel #x reader #agatha harkness smut #wlw #talia’s fics ໒꒱.*

751 notes · View notes

viceroywrites · 5 months ago

Text

deja vu - part 2

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

(if you would like a link to the playlist i created for this series, lmk!)

part one | part three

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown

It was a tense interaction following your question.

Ford’s eyebrows raised in alarm and he carefully approached you, “Of course, we’ve met before, it’s me, Stanford.”

You pause, glancing between Stanley and his twin before replying hesitantly, “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I just learned your name a few seconds ago from your brother.”

Ford’s lips narrow into a thin line, vexation written all over his face, “I know we parted ways on less than ideal terms, Y/N, but there’s no reason to pretend like you don’t recognize me.”

Your eyebrow raised at Ford’s firm stance, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry to say but I truly don’t. Maybe you have me mistaken for someone else perhaps?” You can’t help but get defensive, feeling accused that you were blowing off this complete stranger.

“Oh, I’m not mistaken. I know you very well, Y/N. I know that you got your Masters in Geology at Backupsmore. I know that ammolite is your favorite gemstone. I know that you learned hamboning from Fiddleford just to get on my nerves.” Ford counters you with facts, his own stubbornness coming through as you stare each other down.

Your eyes widen at the amount of detail Ford seems to know about you, “How do you know all these things about me? How do you know Fiddleford? Did you help him with his research out here?”

Ford sighs heavily, “I know I messed up back then and I know you must hate me but can you please drop this childish charade?” His low voice raises slightly in volume as his frustration mounts as he finally snaps at you.

“Ford!” Stan cuts in between the two of you, catching both of you off guard, “Lay off her… I genuinely think she doesn’t… remember.” He sighs, putting the pieces together surprisingly quickly compared to his brother. He grabs his twin by the arm, pulling him off to the side, “Give us a second, we’ll be right back.” Stan says to you, giving you an apologetic stare.

You nod slowly as you decide to take a seat on the steps, watching as the sun slowly begins to set in the horizon. This new information perplexes you as you try to wrack your brain if Fiddleford had ever mentioned working with someone during his time in Gravity Falls.

Meanwhile, the Pines twins walk off into the distance, just out of ear shot. “So who is she?” Stan questions, needing answers from his brother before he can present his finding. Ford bristles at the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks off into the distance before answering, “Remember when we were out at sea commiserating on past romances… and I told you how I had met someone during my time in college but she left after I had gotten too deep into my involvement with Bill.”

“Yeah, vaguely, I thought you were just making that up to try and relate to my stories about my ex-wives. You never were smooth with the ladies.” Stan admits with a shrug to which Ford rolls his eyes at. “Well, that’s her. The age old cliche of the one that got away.” Ford summarizes, “But she was never this petty before. I know I hurt her immensely but…”

“She’s not being petty, poindexter. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Stan sighs, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Ford stares back blankly at him, unsure how to respond. “God, you’re supposed to be the smart one here. Remember your old friend McGucket’s invention? You know the one that can literally erase memories? The one that erased all my memories?” Stan spells it out for his brother.

It all clicks in Ford’s head, “You don’t think… Fiddleford wiped her memory, do you?”

“Ding, ding, we got a winner!” Stan says sardonically, “Took ya long enough.”

“Why would he do that? I need to get to the bottom of this, Stanley…” Ford looks over his brother’s shoulder, staring at you. Despite the time that has passed, you look just as vibrant as he remembered you, your features highlighted in the orange glow of the sunset.

Stan notices the longing look on his brother’s face and places a hand on his shoulder, “You know she’s supposed to head out tomorrow morning? Got a whole road trip planned ahead.”

“Well, let’s see if she’d at least be willing to stick around to talk to Fiddleford.” Ford says with steely determination as he begins to walk back towards you, Stan following at his heels.

You look up as the pair walk up to you, able to see them side by side. There were distinct differences in terms of style but they were nearly identical, only just now picking up the cleft in Stanford’s chin and their different glasses.

Ford mulls over his choice of words. Despite being the more logical twin, Ford had to admit he was perhaps just as stubborn as his brother. “My apologies for my directness. I know you may not remember me, but please trust me when I say that we have an extensive history together. What if we were to visit Fiddleford tomorrow to perhaps quell your doubts and clarify some things?” He offers, hoping in the back of his mind that you’ll say yes.

You pause at the offer, thinking it through. You had the urge to decline, still on the defense. After all, this man pretty much accused you of acting like a child when you didn’t recognize him.

However, you did wish to see Fiddleford again, so curious about what happened to him after all these years.

“Alright, I’ll stay another day in Gravity Falls to see Fiddleford. But I want to know a little bit more about you.” Your eyes narrow in on Ford. Stan clears his throat, very aware of the tension between the two of you. “Well, I’m gonna go take care of… the broken thing inside...” He grumbles out the last part, making an awkward escape as he walks past you up the steps before pausing at the door to address you, “Come back inside whenever you and Sixer are done talking, I’ll clear out one of the rooms so you can stay for the night.”

Before you can protest, Stan closes the screen door behind him, giving you and Ford some privacy.

“So you had some questions for me?” Ford sighs, deciding to take a seat next to you. It felt so strange to be so close to you physically after all this time yet so distant due to your loss of memories, wishing that he could pull you into a tight embrace and apologize for everything that happened in the past.

“Well, I’m assuming if you know Fiddleford and somehow know that I got my Masters in Geology that you went to Backupsmore as well.” You start there, knowing the common thread that connects the two of you is the university you all attended, “That’s correct, not my first choice obviously.” Ford replies with a nod.

“Is it anyone’s first choice?” You comment which pulls a chuckle from Ford who shakes his head. “Very true, I know it wasn’t either of ours. Fiddleford was just elated to be the first in his family to even go.”

“So what did you major in?” You ask with a tilt of your head, “And how did you meet Fiddleford?”

“What didn’t I major in is the better question. I technically have 12 PhDs but my main focuses were Physics and Molecular Biology.” Ford admitted with a sense of pride, your jaw almost dropping at this information. ”As for how I met Fiddleford, I had proposed a theory in class one time that immediately got shot down by my professor. But Fiddleford shared my passion for pushing boundaries of existing theories and knowledge and we spent the whole night trying to prove it had validity.” Ford said, smiling at that particular memory.

You note the admiration in Ford’s voice as he speaks of Fiddleford, knowing that their relationship must be close. “I’m so confused… how do I not remember you if you and Fiddleford have such a close relationship?” You sigh, second guessing your own memories at this point. All this information felt like it made sense logically but it was difficult to suspend your disbelief. You hesitate to ask the question, “How... did we meet?”

Ford pauses, staring out into the forest, unable to meet your gaze as he recounts your first meeting. It seems so distant but it was a simple time before life got complicated.

Before he made your lives complicated.

Before he can reply, you cut him off, seeing the pained look in his eyes and realizing you may have gone too far. Whoever you were to him, something must have happened between the two of you that led to this reaction. “Actually, don’t answer that… It's getting late and I know we’ll have all of tomorrow to go over this with Fiddleford.”

“Right… we should probably call it for the evening.” Ford lets out a sigh of relief, getting up from his spot on the steps. He offers his hand, your eyes flicking towards it and noting the six fingers that were facing towards you. Realizing what you’re staring at, he is about to withdraw his hand, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but you take it, your warm fingers wrapping around his palm, as you stand up.

“Are you heading inside?” You ask, still holding into his hand. He realizes you have yet to let go and basks in the moment, fighting the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I should probably fix that invention that I was working on before…” Ford admits, almost waiting for you to scold him like you would in the past.

But you don’t.

Instead, you nod in understanding, squeezing Ford’s hand one final time before letting go. “Alright, I’m gonna head inside and see where I’m sleeping for the night…” You begin to walk towards the doorway before pausing at the door.

“Hey… I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I really hope tomorrow something sparks my memory.” You say, “Good night, Stanford.” You disappear behind the doorway, not waiting for him to respond.

Ford stares as he watches your frame retreat from behind the door, “Good night, Y/N… my dear.” The old pet name feeling heavy on his tongue but he can’t help but let it out.

As you stare up at the ceiling, you wonder how you even ended up in a storage room inside a tourist trap, laying on an air mattress.

Your trip - at least for the next day or so - is derailed. You’re thankful that Stan had offered to let you stay in the Mystery Shack as you were planning on sleeping in your car underneath the stars, drained from today’s turns of events and too tired to drive into town to try and find some sort of accommodation.

Yet your trip isn’t even the most pressing thing on your mind.

Who is Stanford Pines?

Your eyes shut tightly, trying to mull over the potential possibilities of how you might know this man who vehemently claims to know you. You knew you were getting older but there’s no way your memory was this shot, especially considering the fact that Ford had shared that he and Fiddleford were close friends and went to Backupsmore.

Your mind continued to draw blanks, unable to pinpoint a single memory that involved him.

Yet something about him was so familiar. Maybe that’s why a sense of deja vu had hit you the moment you met his brother and walked through the Mystery Shack.

Finally, fatigue hits you and you are able to fall asleep, slipping into a new dream.

You find yourself back at Backupsmore, walking through the quad and making your way to the library. The campus is decorated in hues of orange and yellow, autumn leaves scattered across the grass. Your boots crunching against the leaves as you weave through the bodies that mill around to and from class.

A gust of wind hits your face, wincing as the harshness against your skin as you had forgotten to bring a scarf on your trek. You finally make it to the library, opening the heavy doors to be greeted to the warmth and scent of old paperback books.

You walk past the front desk, making your way directly to the back of the library to the stacks. You pass the mostly empty study carrels one by one, looking for someone specific.

You get to the very end of what seemed like a never ending maze and see a table tucked into the corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a sweater vest, sits facing away from you, their head buried in the pile of books around them.

Your lips begin to move, calling out a name to address the person before you.

Stanford.

You wake up in a startle, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you feel a sudden pressure on your chest. Your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you, seeing a blur of pink, thinking you’re still dreaming. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you realize there’s a pig sniffing your face in curiosity.

“God, what have I gotten myself into?” You groan out groggily, laying back in defeat as Waddles begins to lick your cheek.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ford sits awkwardly in front of an audience of his great nephew and niece who are gaping at him in awe, just having explained the whole situation to them as they questioned who’s car was parked in the front of the Mystery Shack.

Stan sips from a mug that spells ‘World’s Greatest Grunkle’ that Mabel made him, a slightly amused grin spreading across his face. The look on their faces was priceless, he thinks to himself, wishing he could take a photo of it. Though, he was in their shoes just last night, still processing that his poindexter brother actually landed someone after all those years of fearing girls and that she somehow ended up stranded on the side of the road just as he was driving back home.

He was just grateful though that his brother wasn’t around for the parts where he was clearly smooth talking to you, unaware that you were his twin’s ex-lover.

“Oh my god, Grunkle Ford, this is amazing!” Mabel exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, “See, I’ve been trying to figure who the ideal candidate would be to match you with but I couldn’t think of anyone in Gravity Falls. Maybe you two can rekindle your romance! We just need to do what we did with Grunkle Stan and show her things to remind her of your time together!”

“Or maybe her memories are stored where the Society of the Blind Eye held Old Man McGucket’s memories? There were a ton of Gravity Falls citizens’ names in there, I’m sure she’s somewhere in that pile.” Dipper offers as a suggestion, more invested in understanding how to restore memory loss from the Memory Gun than Mabel’s romantic plans for her uncle.

Though he had to admit that there was a sliver of him that was rooting for his Grunkle Ford in the romance department.

“Those are excellent suggestions, kids. I’m hoping perhaps talking to Fiddleford today will be one of the first steps into getting her memory back. There is one issue though with your suggestion, Mabel.” Ford admits, slightly crestfallen, “I don’t really have anything left from our time we were together. When she left, she took all remnants of her, photos of us together, letters she wrote to me. What I do have left I’m not sure if it will be effective in bringing those memories back.”

“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Maybe we can still use it, you never know if you don’t try!” Mabel said in reassurance.

Ford hesitated, feeling Dipper, Mabel and Stan’s eyes trained on him, waiting for a response.

Thankfully, your presence saved him in the nick of time, clearing your throat awkwardly. This catches everyone’s attention, Dipper and Mabel’s head whipping around. You stand in the entrance to the kitchen, still clad in your pajamas and your hair tousled from sleep, holding Waddles in your arms.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to make sure this pig is supposed to be in here. He somehow got into my room.” You say, noticing how Waddles squirms now in your arms as he sees Mabel. You put him down and watch him scurry to Mabel who eagerly scoops him into her arms, nuzzling his pink cheek.

“You’re all good, we were just having breakfast. Need a cup of coffee?” Stan says nonchalantly, grabbing the coffee pot that was by his elbow. You nod eagerly, walking towards him and taking the mug that he poured you. “These are me and Ford’s grandniece and nephew, by the way, since you didn’t get to meet them last night. They’re staying here for the summer.” Stan gestures to the two twins that are staring at you like you had a second head.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mabel! Sorry about Waddles, he kinda wanders around the house if I’m not awake yet.” The energetic brunette introduces herself. “No need to apologize, he was very sweet. If anything, he got me out of bed to get my day started. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say with a relaxed smile.

“I’m Dipper, nice to meet you. Grunkle Stan was just telling us how you ended up staying here.” The more relaxed male counterpart to Mabel chimed in, trying to move the conversation away from the topic discussed prior to you entering the room. Ford let out a slight sigh of relief, grateful that he was no longer in the hot seat.

“Well, your Grunkle Stan saved me from having to spend a pretty penny on a tow truck and a place to stay so I’m very grateful for that.” You chuckle, getting used to the term ‘Grunkle’.

“Sooo, Y/N, mind if I do a little Q&A with you? Since you’ll be staying here, I wanna get to know you better!” Mabel said eagerly, mentally mapping out her questions already. You blink owlishly before your eyes flick between Stan and Ford in amusement, “Fire away, Mabel. Though I hope your Grunkles didn’t put you up to this as a little payback for when I interrogated them yesterday?”

“She questioned you too?” Ford says in surprise to his brother who scratches chin mindlessly. “A little bit after finishing up the tour I gave her of the Mystery Shack. This one’s ruthless, no wonder she works for the government!” Stan taunts, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Wait, you work for the government?” Dipper asks, his eyes slightly narrowing in skepticism. You blink at his almost defensive reaction before elbowing Stan in the side who almost chokes on his coffee, “I literally asked you three questions. Don’t listen to him, I work for the National Parks, not the CIA.”

Dipper visibly relaxes and Mabel’s eyes linger on where you elbowed Grunkle Stan, picking up on how relaxed you seemed around him compared to Grunkle Ford. In fact, you had barely acknowledged Ford this morning, standing by the counter next to Stan. Mabel decides to take matters into her own hands, playing matchmaker as she gets up from her chair.

“Well that answers one of my questions. By the way, take a seat, Y/N! You’re our guest and I’m finished with my pancakes!” She walks over to you, pulling you by the hand as you plop onto the chair that is coincidentally right next to Ford. “Thanks Mabel..” You roll with the situation before looking over at Ford who stares at you with what seems to be pride.

“You really made it to the National Parks, huh? That was your dream since freshman year…” Ford says though immediately regrets it as you stare back at him in surprise. “Yeah.. I did. No one really knew about that.. Not even Fiddleford.” You reply, running your thumb over the print on the mug bashfully. “Well, um... I’m really happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to get there.” Ford offers, not sure how else to respond.

You smile warmly, taking a sip from your coffee, “Thanks, I appreciate it. It means a lot coming from someone with 12 PhDs.” You tease at the end to which Ford’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and flattery.

Mabel hops up on the counter next to her Grunkle Stan who mutters under his breath, “Smooth move, kid.”

You turn to look back at Mabel, “Any more questions for me?”

Mabel taps her chin, deep in thought. Her eyes flicker over to great-uncle Ford who continues to stare at you in admiration. She snaps her fingers, putting her match-making skills to use once again, “What would you say is your type in a partner?”

“Mabel! What kinda question is that?” Dipper groans, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Wow, we’re getting to the real hard-hitting questions.” You say in amusement, slightly caught off guard but amused. You ponder the answer yourself, wondering if the kids would understand what you mean by this.

“Well, does your generation know what a silver fox is?” You ask with a sheepish grin and a flush to your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck.

Your answer causes a chain reaction of different responses.

Mabel squeals with an eager nod, looking over hopefully at her Grunkle Ford.

Dipper and Stan both end up spitting out their milk and coffee respectively.

Ford sits at the table, blinking in confusion.

“What’s a silver fox? Is that a new type of species?”

After cleaning up the mess that Stan and Dipper had made, you finally start getting ready to head out with Ford to visit your old friend. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your outfit before reaching to grab the hairbrush Mabel graciously lets you borrow after you realize that you had forgotten yours in the car.

Stan walks down the stairs, having changed out of his white tank-top and pajama pants into clothes more suitable for going out. He pauses at the open bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Hey, while you and Poindexter catch up with McGucket, I’m gonna swing into town later tonight to get you a replacement battery for your car.”

Placing the brush down, you address Stan, “You sure? I can always ask Ford if we could stop by the auto shop on the way back to pick it up.”

Stan scoffs, “Please, my brother’s smart and knows a ton about science-y stuff but he’s hopeless when it comes to cars. Besides, I know a guy, I’ll get you a discount.”

“Alright.. Just let me know how much I owe you, I’m for sure paying you back.” You say hesitantly as you make your way towards the door. Stan steps aside to let you through, “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively.

Technically, that guy was Bud Gleeful and that discount was five-fingered but you didn’t have to know that.

“You found your way around the Mystery Shack pretty easily, by the way. Didn’t even have to show you where the bathroom was, I sometimes have a hard time finding it and I’ve lived here for over 30 years.” Stan comments. You realize that even this morning, you walked directly to the kitchen, almost like your feet knew where to go through pure muscle memory.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Ford’s deep voice calls out, walking down the hallway to approach you and Stan.

“Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You say, slightly nervous to see Fiddleford again. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he didn’t even remember you just like you couldn’t remember Ford?

Ford could see the furrow in your brow, a sign he had picked up through the years you had been together that you were overthinking. He hesitates for a second but places a hand on your arm, snapping you out of your rumination. “He’ll be elated to see you, Y/N. Though to give you a fair warning, he looks a lot different than how he did during our college days.” He says reassuringly.

You nod, smiling up at him, your nerves calmed down for now. “Thanks, Ford. I’m gonna go grab my bag and I’ll meet you outside.” You make your way back down the hallway, leaving the twins by themselves.

“Think she might already be starting to getting some of her memories back just by being here…” Stan muttered, following his brother outside. Ford’s eyebrow raises in confusion, “What makes you say that, Stanley?”

“She knows how to get around the house without even thinking about it. I know I gave her a tour but that was just the showroom and the gift shop.” Stan shares his observation, holding the door open for Ford as they step out into the front yard where Stan’s car is parked.

“Fascinating… maybe her memories may come back more organically than we had thought.” Ford muses before placing his hand out, “The keys, Stanley?”

Stan sighs, rummaging through his jacket before placing his keys in his brother’s hand, “You know I could have just driven you two up to the mansion but someone insisted I give you two alone time to bond.”

Ford squeezes the keys in his hand before smiling at his brother, “I should probably say thank you to Mabel then… and thanks Stanley for bringing her here.”

Stan punches his twin in the arm affectionately, “Whatever, I just better not see a scratch on El Diablo when you two get back.” Ford winces but grins, rubbing the spot on his arm.

Right on cue, you close the creaky door behind you, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk over to the pair, “Alright, I’m ready to go! Sorry, Mabel stopped me on the way out to ask my opinion on what sweater she should wear to the roller rink. Apparently, none of you guys have the taste to give her a valid opinion.” You chuckle.

“Roller rink? I swear these kids turn thirteen and think they can just go around without telling their Grunkle where they’re going.” Stan sighs in exasperation, calling out Mabel’s name as he walks back inside. You follow Ford to the car, sliding into the passenger side. “Sorry if my driving is a bit rusty, Stanley’s usually the one that drives us around when we’re in Oregon for the summer.” Ford apologizes in advance, pulling out of Mystery Shack and onto the open road.

“I mean as long we come out unscathed, I’m not complaining.” You say nonchalantly, taking in the sight of the massive trees that tower over the two way road in front of you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, neither one of you knowing how to spark conversation. There lingered an unspoken heaviness, mostly due in part the intensity of your exchange the previous night. Ford desperately wanted to talk to you and yet he was drawing a blank on what to even talk about.

As you make your way up the winding hills, Ford finally speaks up, deciding to ask you more about your work, “So you work for the National Parks? Are you a research scientist or did you go the natural resource conservation route?” He asks, remembering how you were torn between pursuing further research or honing in on your love of preserving nature.

“You’re pretty well-informed about the geoscience field. I just tell most people I look at rocks all day.” You admit, toying with the necklace that you had tucked into your shirt, “I started off in research but I realized that most of my time was spent in labs and studying specimens rather than actually out in the field. I love the parks so much, I was itching to get back out there so I switched to conservation.”

“Makes sense, just studying concepts and theories in a controlled environment isn’t nearly as fun as getting hands-on experience.” Ford chuckles. His eyes flick over to see your fingers rolling around the vibrant orange gemstone attached to your necklace, almost choking on his spit. Your eyes meet his and your eyebrow raises as Ford’s expression is like he’s seen a ghost.

“You okay? Do I have something on my face?” You question, pulling down the sun visor to check your appearance in the mirror. Ford shakes his head vigorously, clearing his throat, “No… I… do you remember where you got that necklace?”

You pause at his query, putting the sun visor back into its original position and glancing down at the sunstone that dangles from the simple gold chain. “Oh this? I honestly don’t remember, I’ve had it for quite some time. Why do you ask?”

Ford takes a deep breath before looking back onto the road, “I… well… gave it to you. We drove up here from Backupsmore to start my grant research. Along the way, we stopped near one of the parks and you found that piece of sunstone. You carried it around everywhere so one night, I took the time to fashion it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.”

There’s a pause before you speak. That pause felt like eternity to Ford.

“You know…I think you were in my dream last night...” You say, staring at the necklace with a newfound understanding. “I was back at Backupsmore and walking to the library. I ended up walking up to someone with their head buried in the books and I called out your name but I woke up after that.”

Ford was not expecting that response, looking over at you in alarm, “This may be a stretch but was there indication in your dream that it was fall?” You nod slowly.

“That was the first time we met. You were struggling with the section on seismic refractions in a physics course that I had taken a semester prior. Our professor recommended me as a tutor.” Ford recounts, his fingers gripping the wheel slightly tighter.

“Jeez… could all my dreams… just be memories?” You mutter to yourself but loud enough for Ford to hear it. “You’ve had other dreams….?” Ford questioned, his mind reeling with this discovery. “Yeah, I’ve had them for years. There’s always someone else in them… but before I can figure out or discern who it might be, my body wakes up.” You admit, rifling through your bag before pulling out a small leather bound journal.

“This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I’ve been keeping track of them here.” You say hesitantly as you hold up the leather bound journal. Ford stared between you and the journal in awe. He had always found preparation attractive and he thinks he may have fallen in love with you all over again.

“Perhaps we can go through some of them and see if it correlates to any memories I have.” Ford attempts to say with a steady voice but there’s a hint of excitement in his proposition. “I honestly would love that… I feel like I’ve been trying to crack the code of these dreams without any key.” You reply eagerly.

Ford makes the final turn up the hill, approaching the massive gates to what was formerly the Northwest Manor. Your eyes widen, staring at the impressive estate before you. You watch as Ford presses on the intercom, “Fiddleford, we’re here.” before the gates open to let you in.

“This.. is where Fiddleford lives? Did he make a breakthrough with his personal computers or something?” You question to which Ford chuckles nervously. “You could say that. Honestly, it’s quite a long story that we can talk about inside.” After parking the car in front of the fountain, Ford gets out of the car before opening the door for you.

You two make your way to the wooden front door, which bursts open soon after Ford raps his knuckles against it. You’re greeted by your friend, who looks considerably older despite being the same age as you and Stanford that you almost didn’t recognize him. Fiddleford embraces Ford first before stepping back to assess you. You gulp, anxiety filling up your system once again.

You’re quickly enveloped into a tight hug by Fiddleford, which you return. “My god, Fiddleford, it’s been too long. I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” You said shakily. You two pull apart as Fiddleford grasps your arms, “Sweet sarsaparilla, look at you, Y/N! You make me and Ford look like old geezers! I’m real sorry I hadn’t reached out until now…”

“There’s no need to apologize, Fiddleford… I’m just glad we reconnected.” You say, a wave of nostalgia hitting you. “Come on in, you two! We got a lot of catching up to do!” Fiddleford says, ushering you into the massive home with his arm before closing the door.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls x you #stanford x reader #ford pines x reader #stan pines x you #stanley pines x reader #stan pines #ford pines

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wordsarelife · 4 months ago

Text

—august

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo chose you and still you wonder why he even broke up with his ex in the first place

warnings: feeling like the wrong choice, insecure reader, angst but fluff ending

notes: i just wrote a little drabble since i already had a planned fic ready for lacy, i hope you still like it!

her hair was flowing effortlessly over her shoulders, caressing her back like it was some sort of clothing. she looked effortlessly pretty in general, soft pink lips and warm brown eyes reflecting the light of the sun when she would walk through the courtyard.

and the worst thing about her? she was nice. simply put. you couldn’t even manage to hate her, because next to being beautiful, she had a charming personality, a great sense of humor and friends everywhere she went.

you had understood if she had hated you. you, the new girlfriend of her first great love. but she didn’t and that made it impossibly worse.

“hey, y/n” she had greeted one morning, a smile plastered on her face and happiness reflecting in her eyes. “theo mentioned that you had some problems regarding the divination essay” she said and added, before you were able to retort something: “i finished mine a few days ago and thought it might help you to read over it. it was indeed a very hard task, i struggled too”

“oh” you had said, dumbfounded, and stared at the pieces of parchment she was holding in your direction. “thank you, aurora”

“no problem” she grinned. “and rory is fine, all my friends call me that”

she had left in a hurry, having to return books to the library, and you spent your time looking after her in awe, surprise and insecurity flooding your features.

it was beyond you why mattheo had decided to break up with her. aurora turner was simply perfect and you certainly weren’t.

"what's going on in there, huh?" mattheo slipped into the space beside you, touching your head with one of his fingers softly.

"oh, nothing" you quickly excused, taking your eyes off of aurora and looking to the book in front of you. "this reading for muggle studies is just taking up my brain"

"romeo and juliet?" mattheo questioned, studying the leatherbound book.

"yeah" you sighed. "the english is kinda off"

"i know" he shrugged, turning the book around in his hands and opening it to a random page.

"you know?" you repeated, trying not to laugh. "i never as much saw you look at a book before"

"i liked this one" he smiled.

your smirk died down. "oh, i didn't know that" you tried to find his eyes. "why did you never mention it? i would've read it sooner then"

"it's not a big deal, that was ages ago" he paused, unsure if it was okay to finish the sentence, but you urged him on, nodding repeatedly so he would continue. "rory liked it"

"oh" you said plainly, before you realized that your reaction was all the more telling of your inner jealousy and insecurity about his old relationship. "i mean cool"

"y/n" mattheo muttered, laying the book down in front of you. "it really doesn't matter. we don't even have to mention it again"

"i don't want you to feel like you can't tell me something, just because you experienced it with your ex" you smiled, but it was costing you all your strength. "you can talk about the past, it doesn't bother me"

"that's clearly a lie" mattheo saw through you completely. "you shouldn't have to hide your feelings to make me feel better"

you sighed, realising that it was to no use to lie to him. "sorry, i just—" you shook your head "i don't even know why you decided to break up with her in the first place and i think i'm scared that you'll realize that at one point too"

mattheo looked at you with a soft smile, his gaze searching your eyes as if trying to convey everything he felt with just that look. "y/n, i'm gonna be honest. it’s not that rory wasn’t great," he began, his tone gentle. "she is a really good person, and there was nothing wrong with her. but that doesn’t mean she was the right person for me."

you blinked, trying to process his words as he continued.

"i realized that being with someone just because they seem perfect on the surface doesn’t mean it’s the right fit. we just didn’t connect in the way i needed. with you..." he hesitated, as if searching for the right words, "...it’s different. you make me feel understood. you get me in a way that no one else does."

you looked at him with so much admiration that he had to look down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

"look" he said, when he was able to look in your eyes again. "dating rory was like constantly standing on a pedestal and people expecting me to be something different than i was. that didn't feel right, and it shouldn't. but being with you feels like coming home after a long day, realizing that there's someone in my corner even if no one else likes me for who i am and not for who they see in me"

"i didn't know you felt like that" you muttered, ashamed that you had possibly made him uncomfortable.

"i don't, not anymore" he smiled. "not since i met you. because i don't care about the others. i just care about us, you and me"

"i love you" you said as he kissed your cheek, pulling you closer by your waist.

"i love you" mattheo mumbled against your mouth. "don't ever think you're worth less than her, just because you're not her. if anything that's what makes you more special to me"

you nodded, teary-eyed, as he pushed his lips forward to meet yours. your hands toyed with the hem of his curls as he deepend the kiss.

after that day you never questioned mattheo's choice again. and you could see that both him and rory held a lot of respect for each other. but both were not even interested in anything deeper. mattheo never looked up when he heard her voice anywhere. rory never came to the tree you had often seen them kissing at, back when they had been together.

you realized that being enough for mattheo had never meant being perfect—it had only ever meant being yourself.

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wolverigrl · 5 months ago

Text

The talk

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Previous Part

A/N: Enjoy this part 3! I hope you like it! In this story, Blake and Ryan have been married since 2010 and therefore had their children earlier. I changed the age of the children to make it fit.

Warnings: maybe some swearing here and there, a bit angsty and fluff, mentions of alcohol

---------------------------------------------------

I couldn’t sleep last night. I’d been tossing and turning for hours, staring at the digital clock that blinked back at me relentlessly. When 6 a.m. finally rolled around, I gave up, threw back the covers, and dragged myself out of bed. I needed something to ground me, to keep my mind from spiraling, so I rolled out my yoga mat in front of the massive window that looked out over the New York skyline. The city was still half-asleep, but I could already feel its energy buzzing in the distance.

After a quick, but calming, yoga session, I snapped a selfie. I sat on the mat in my sports bra and leggings, my hair a messy bun, and the sunrise just starting to peek through the buildings behind me. My face looked peaceful, but inside, my stomach was a knot of nerves. Still, I posted it on Instagram, hoping the positivity from my followers might lift me a bit.

Within minutes, comments flooded in. Mostly love and support, people saying how they wished they could be as dedicated to early morning yoga as I was. But some of them worried about me. There were a few messages asking if I was okay, mentioning the paparazzi photos of yesterday. Apparently, walking through the city with Blake after the premiere turned into a full-on hangover spectacle, and people noticed. They always notice everything.

I sighed and decided to call Blake.

“Heyyy!” she greeted cheerfully, her voice always so full of life.

“Hey, Blake!"I replied, trying to sound less anxious than I felt.

I hesitated. I didn’t really want to unload on her again.

“I, uh, I’ve got Hugh coming over soon. I… I don’t know, I’m kinda nervous about it. We need to talk, and I just—I don’t know how it’s going to go.”

I heard in her voice that she was smiling. “Listen, you and Hugh will be fine. He’s a great guy. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t be flirting with you so much in public. Trust me, I’ve known him for years—he doesn’t do that unless he means it.”

I bit my lip, feeling my anxiety twist and turn. “But what if… ahh.. nevermind. I’m just so confused.”

“That’s okay. As I already told you, you don’t have to figure it all out in one day. Just talk to him, be honest, and see where it goes. You’ve got this.”

Her words helped, if only a little. I thanked her, and after hanging up, I busied myself around the apartment, waiting for the knock on the door.

When it finally came, I almost jumped out of my skin. I opened the door to find Hugh standing there with a bag of bagels in one hand and two coffees in the other.

“Good morning. I brought us breakfast." he said with that charming smile of his.

We exchanged small talk as we sat down at the kitchen counter, nibbling on our food. He complimented the view, asked about my morning, and I tried to stay calm, but the tension between us was impossible to ignore. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dancing around the subject, I took a deep breath and started the conversation I’d been dreading.

“Hugh,” I began softly, setting my half-eaten bagel down. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m feeling. About us, I mean.”

He nodded slowly, looking at me with that warm, steady gaze that always seemed to calm me, even when I was a mess inside.

“I like you, y/n. A lot. And I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now. But I’d like to figure it out together if that’s something you want to.”

My chest tightened. “But the age thing�� your kids… Hugh, it’s a lot. I don’t know if I’m ready for something so complicated.”

Hugh leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’ve already talked to my son about it, actually. Oscar asked me about you, and I told him the truth—that I’m happy when I’m with you. And he said that as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters to him. Ava feels the same way, I’m sure.”

I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. The relief I felt, knowing that he’d already had that conversation with his son, was overwhelming. But at the same time, the weight of everything else crashed over me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, wiping at my eyes as the tears fell.

Hugh got up and pulled me up from the chair so that I stood in front of him. His arms wrapped me in a soft hug, and his fingers tilted my chin up slightly so he could kiss the tip of my nose. It was a soft, sweet gesture that made my heart skip.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time. We don’t need to rush anything.”

I nodded, sniffling a bit. “Slow sounds good. Maybe we could… you know, go on real dates? But keep things quiet for now.”

He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, Blake and Ryan can know, but no one else. At least for now.”

We finished breakfast and cleaned up, and soon we found ourselves on the couch. Hugh wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. For a while, we just sat there, the silence comforting, our worries temporarily pushed to the side.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “Did you… did you mean it? That kiss in the gym?”

Hugh chuckled, glancing down at me with that familiar playful spark in his eyes. “Was that not obvious?”

I felt my face heat up, a slow blush spreading across my cheeks. I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in my voice betrayed me. “I had other things on my mind.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the butterflies in my stomach. There was something so disarming about him, the way he could make me feel at ease even when my heart was racing. His gaze held mine, the tension between us thickening, and suddenly, I couldn’t resist any longer.

Without thinking, I leaned in, brushing my lips against his. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but the moment he responded, everything else faded away. His lips were soft and warm, moving gently against mine, and the kiss quickly deepened, growing more intense with each passing second.

My heart pounded in my chest, the heat between us rising as my hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. Hugh’s arms circled my waist, pulling me closer until I was practically sitting on his lap. His hands were firm yet tender, one resting on the small of my back, the other moving up to cradle the side of my face as the kiss continued to build in intensity.

I felt my breath hitch as his lips trailed from mine to the corner of my mouth, then along my jawline, his stubble grazing my skin in the most delicious way. My pulse quickened as I let out a soft sigh, my fingers tangling in his short, soft hair. The sensation of his lips on my neck sent shivers down my spine, my entire body humming with anticipation.

Hugh's hand slid down to my back, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, and it sent my mind spinning. His touch was gentle but sure, his fingers tracing small circles on my lower back, grounding me even as everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

His mouth returned to mine, the kiss now slow and deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world. His tongue teased my lips, and I opened up to him, the kiss deepening as our breaths mingled, the air between us growing hotter. Every nerve in my body was on fire, the warmth of his touch, the weight of his hands, the way he held me, as if I were something precious. I felt safe and reckless all at once, the thrill of being so close to him coursing through me like electricity.

Hugh’s grip tightened on my waist, his hands sliding down to my hips, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, a heady mix of desire and disbelief that this was actually happening. His lips parted from mine just long enough for me to catch a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering open to meet his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with the same want that was swirling inside me.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned back in, kissing him with more urgency this time, my hands slipping from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my fingertips. His body was firm under my touch, and the sensation sent another rush of heat through me. I pressed closer to him, my lips hungry for more, and he responded in kind, his hands roaming over my back.

My pulse raced, and I felt the world narrowing down to just the two of us—the heat of our bodies, the taste of his lips, the way his hands moved over me, every touch igniting something deeper, something I couldn’t control.

Then, out of nowhere, his phone buzzed.

We both froze, breathless, still tangled together. I pulled back just slightly, still feeling the heat of his breath on my lips. "You should get that," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my ears.

Hugh let out a low groan of frustration but reluctantly reached for his phone. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “It’s Ryan.”

I smirked, trying to catch my breath. Of course, it was Ryan.

Hugh answered, still holding me close as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “Hey, mate.” he greeted casually, though I could hear the slight edge of impatience in his voice.

Ryan’s voice was loud enough that I could hear him through the phone. “So, dinner at our place today? You and y/n should come by.”

Hugh blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “How do you know y/n's with me?”

Ryan’s laugh was almost smug. “Call it a hunch.”

Hugh shook his head, glancing at me with a playful smile. “You in?”

I nodded, still a bit breathless, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “Sure.”

He confirmed with Ryan and then hung up, looking back at me with a soft smile. “Let’s go for a walk before dinner.”

I grinned. The idea of sneaking through the streets with him was somehow exciting. But then reality hit. “You should probably… go get changed." I suggested, glancing down at the clothes he was wearing. "Something more undercover."

Hugh nodded, gently setting me next to him and standing up. "I'll swing by my place and change. Give me a few minutes, and I'll come back for you."

He pressed one more quick kiss to my forehead before heading out the door, leaving me sitting there, my heart still racing from the kiss. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to calm the fire that was still burning inside me. It was impossible to believe that just a few moments ago, I had been straddling Hugh Jackman in my living room, kissing him like my life depended on it.

True to his word, Hugh returned not long after, dressed down in a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a hoodie, looking like a celebrity who's trying to avoid attention. I slipped on a casual jacket and sunglasses, and we headed out, blending into the afternoon crowds as we walked through the streets of New York.

As we wandered, the conversation flowed easily. We talked about work—how his latest project was going, how I was handling mine. We shared stories and joked about the craziness of the industry, but somewhere along the way, the conversation grew more personal. Hugh asked me about my childhood, about the things that made me who I was, and I found myself opening up to him in a way I hadn’t expected.

He told me stories about his kids, about how Oscar was so curious about everything, how Ava was growing into her own person, full of ideas and opinions. Hearing him talk about them made me see another side of him—so caring, so deeply connected to his family. It only made me like him more.

We asked each other questions that weren’t surface level, diving into the things that really mattered, like what we wanted in life, what we were afraid of. The more we talked, the more I realized again how easy it was to be with him, how natural it felt.

Before I knew it, hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky. We made our way back to my apartment, where Hugh dropped me off so I could get ready for dinner at Blake and Ryan’s. He gave me one short peck before heading back to his place to change.

As I stood in front of my mirror, touching up my makeup and fixing my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, about how right it had felt. Today had been full of surprises, but for the first time, I wasn’t scared of where this might lead. Hugh and I were taking it slow, figuring things out as we went, and somehow, that was enough for now.

When Hugh came back to pick me up, we were both ready for whatever the rest of the day had in store. We were in this together.

The moment we stepped through the door at Blake and Ryan’s, the familiar sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor reached my ears. Before I knew it, all three of their daughters—James, Betty, and Inez—came running toward us, their faces lighting up in excitement.

“Y/n! Hugh!” they squealed in unison, their voices high-pitched with joy.

I couldn’t help but grin as I bent down to greet them, enveloping each one of them in a warm hug. Hugh followed suit, gently embracing them, his face soft with affection. Ryan stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful smile on his face.

“I swear, they get more excited when you two show up than when Blake and I come home." Ryan quipped, shaking his head as if the betrayal was real.

I chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair as she beamed up at me. “Well, I mean, we are the fun ones.”

Blake walked up behind him, smirking as she shrugged her shoulders. “Can you really blame them?” she said, giving Ryan a teasing nudge.

Before I could respond, the seven-year-old James grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the living room. “Come on, y/n! I want to show you something!”

I let her guide me into the cozy room, where Penny and Baxter, the two dogs, were lounging lazily on the floor. James hurried over to a corner piled high with toys and grabbed two Barbie dolls, her excitement radiating off her.

“Look!” she said, holding up the first Barbie. “This one looks just like you!” The doll was dressed in sporty clothes that reminded me of what I’d worn in my recent Instagram post. “And this one." she added, grabbing the second doll, “looks like Mommy.”

I laughed softly, touched by her creativity. “Wow, you nailed it! I can totally see the resemblance.”

As I sat down with her to admire her Barbie collection, I noticed Hugh standing in the doorway, his smile widening as he watched us. But before he could come over, Betty and Inez had already ambushed him, grabbing onto his legs and giggling uncontrollably.

“Hugh! Hugh!” Inez exclaimed, her arms wrapped tightly around one of his legs. “Can we watch the Minions again? Please? Pleeease?”

Betty chimed in, nodding with equal enthusiasm. “Yeah, can we?”

Ryan strolled into the room, laughing as he leaned against the doorframe. “Again? How many times have you guys watched that now? Fifty? Sixty?”

Hugh chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair. “Maybe after dinner, alright? You two might know it better than I do at this point.”

Just then, Blake called out from the dining room, “Okay, everyone, dinner’s ready! Let’s give Hugh a break and get some food in your bellies first.”

We all made our way to the dining room, and as I sat down at the beautifully set table, I couldn’t help but admire the spread. Blake had outdone herself again.

“This looks incredible!" I commented as I took my seat, glancing appreciatively at the dishes laid out before us.

Blake smiled, waving off the compliment. “Ah, it’s nothing. Ryan helped, too.”

Ryan straightened in his chair, pretending to be the world’s greatest chef. “Yeah, I practically made the entire thing,” he boasted, earning a playful elbow to the side from Blake.

While we ate and talked about today's events, I noticed that James, Betty, and Inez had already finished their meals. The three of them looked up at Blake and Ryan with wide, pleading eyes.

"Mom, Dad, can we go play with Penny and Baxter now? Please?" James asked, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.

Ryan exchanged a glance with Blake before nodding. "Alright, you three can go. Just don’t feed the dogs under the table again." he added with a mock sternness that made the girls giggle.

The kids squealed and scrambled out of their chairs, racing back toward the living room where the dogs were waiting for them. Blake shook her head fondly as she watched them go, and we all settled back into the conversation.

I was right in the middle of talking about something funny that had happened at work when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I excused myself, stepping outside to take the call. When I saw Chris Evans’ name on the screen, I smiled.

“Hey, Chris!” I greeted, leaning against the side of the house.

“Y/n!" Chris’s voice came through with its usual warmth. “I’m heading down to New York tomorrow. Wanna grab a beer?”

I smiled. “Absolutely! Let’s meet at the pub we always go to. How’s 7 p.m.?”

“Perfect!" Chris replied. “Looking forward to catching up.”

We wrapped up the conversation, and I headed back inside. As I slipped into my seat, Hugh gave me a gentle smile and placed his hand on my leg under the table, his touch grounding me.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking my thigh in a way that sent a small wave of comfort through me.

I nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah, all good. Just Chris Evans. He’s coming to New York tomorrow, so we’re grabbing a drink.”

Ryan’s ears perked up immediately, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, Captain America, huh? Should Hugh be worried?”

Blake chuckled beside him, clearly in on the joke. I rolled my eyes, laughing. “No, no need to worry. Chris is like an older brother to me.”

Hugh looked intrigued, glancing between Ryan and me. “You and Chris go way back?”

I nodded, leaning back in my chair as I began to explain. “Yeah, Chris, Scarlett Johansson, and I studied together in New York when we were both starting out. They were a few years ahead of me, but we ended up in the same acting workshops. We hit it off and became good friends.”

Blake leaned forward, curiosity written all over her face. “Oh, you never told me your stories of university! You must have some great ones.”

Ryan grinned. “Come on, spill! Any embarrassing moments with Captain America and Black Widow?”

I laughed. “Oh, tons. Like the time they got lost in Central Park for two hours and missed class. Scarlett shook it off, but Chris was so mortified, and we all gave him a hard time for it.”

Ryan cracked up at the image, and Hugh smiled, though I could tell he was focused on every word. “That sounds like him." Ryan said. “Always such a big goof.”

Blake leaned closer, clearly digging for more. “Didn’t you two do a movie together a few years back? Weren’t there some pretty steamy scenes in that one?”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly at the memory. “Yeah, we did." I admitted, chuckling. “It was a bit... awkward, though, because by then, Chris really did feel more like a brother to me.”

Ryan, however, wasn’t about to let me off the hook that easily. “Wait, so it wasn’t always that way?”

I hesitated for a beat, then shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Well.. back when we were in school, we might’ve had a little... thing. You know, one of those fleeting ‘we’re young and in New York’ flings. But it didn’t last long. Now, he’s definitely more of a brother figure.”

Blake’s eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth as she burst out laughing. “Y/n! You never told me you and Chris had a fling!”

Ryan nearly doubled over in laughter, slapping the table. “Oh my god, Hugh, you hearing this? Captain America and y/n!”

Hugh laughed, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I noticed the slight tension in his jaw. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, glancing at me with a mix of amusement and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

Blake continued to laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed but laughing along with them. “It was a long time ago! And honestly, when we filmed that movie, it just felt... weird. I mean, trying to be sexy with someone who you now see as a brother? Not the easiest thing.”

Ryan wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “I bet those scenes were really uncomfortable to shoot.”

“They were." I admitted, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. “But Chris was a total professional about it.”

Hugh remained quiet for a moment, still smiling, but I could tell something about the story didn’t sit quite right with him.

“So, what was it like studying here in New York? It sounds like it was a pretty wild time.” Blake wiggled with her eyebrows.

I grinned, thinking back to those chaotic, exciting days. “It definitely had its moments. The city was also back then a constant whirlwind. We were all broke, doing odd jobs between auditions, but somehow, it was the best time of my life.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet. Was it all method acting and deep emotional discovery, or were you guys just trying to out-party each other?”

I laughed. “A little bit of both, honestly. There were definitely nights when we all showed up to class with way too little sleep.”

Ryan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “And Captain America was part of those late-night adventures?”

I rolled my eyes. “Chris was usually the responsible one, believe it or not. He’d be the guy dragging everyone out of some dive bar at 2 a.m., telling us we had early classes. Of course, he wasn’t always that responsible...”

Hugh’s interest was piqued, his eyes twinkling. “You and Chris really went through it together, huh?”

I nodded, smiling at the memories. “Yeah, we had a lot of fun. We’d rehearse scenes together, mess around in the park, just being broke, and ambitious kids trying to make it.”

Ryan, never missing a beat, chimed in again. “So what you’re saying is, if Chris wasn’t Captain America, he could’ve been, I dunno, some Shakespearean actor, dragging everyone through intense rehearsals and then buying them all hot dogs afterward?”

I laughed. “Exactly! The perfect balance of intense and laid-back.”

"What other stories do you have up your sleeve?" Ryan grinned and put his arm around his wife.

“Well.. while studying, I also worked as a barista, and believe me, I was a terrible barista.” I started, chuckling at the memory.

Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait, you worked at a coffee shop?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I needed to pay rent somehow, so I got a job at this little café near campus. It was my first day, and I was already a nervous wreck. The owner was this sweet, older man—kind of like a grandpa figure to everyone. But I was so jittery that when he came over to check how I was doing, I somehow managed to spill an entire tray of coffee and raspberry cake all over him.”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, especially Ryan, who wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh, that’s priceless. What did he do?”

I grinned at the memory. “He just stood there for a second, covered in coffee, and then he started laughing. He looked at me and said, ‘Well, at least you didn’t burn me.’ From then on, he teased me about it every single shift. He’d walk past me and say, ‘Careful, y/n, hot beverages on the loose!’ It was actually really sweet.”

Blake smiled, shaking her head. “Sounds like he was a good guy.”

“Yeah, he was the best." I agreed. “Honestly, he was one of the reasons I stuck around for so long.”

Hugh, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a small smile. “Well, since we’re sharing job stories… the ladies might not know this, but before I became an actor, I was a P.E. teacher in England.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? You were a teacher? That’s crazy!”

Ryan immediately jumped in with a wide grin. “Oh man, y/n, can you imagine if Hugh had been your teacher back then? You would’ve been the star student in P.E., right?”

I felt my cheeks flush, laughing at the absurd thought. “Honestly, if Hugh had been my teacher, I think I would’ve suddenly developed an intense love for sports.”

Blake burst out laughing while Hugh chuckled, shaking his head at our comments. “Yeah, I can’t imagine that would’ve been appropriate,” Hugh said, still smiling, though his ears were a little pink.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, still grinning. “Hey, you never know. Maybe you’d have inspired her to get into, I don’t know, gymnastics or something.”

Blake swatted Ryan on the arm, but she was laughing just as hard. “Leave them alone! Besides, I bet Hugh was an amazing teacher.”

Hugh shrugged modestly. “It was a good job, honestly. I loved working with the kids, but eventually, I realized my passion was acting.”

I turned to him, still amazed. “That’s so cool, though. I would’ve never guessed. You’ve had quite the journey.”

He smiled warmly at me, and I could see a glimmer of pride in his eyes, as if the memories of his teaching days still meant something to him. “It was definitely a unique chapter in my life. But hey, everything leads you somewhere, right?”

Ryan couldn’t resist one more joke, leaning in with a sly grin. “Yeah, and luckily, it led you to us, huh?”

The conversation slowed down after that, everyone quietly soaking in the warmth of the room and each other’s company. Blake glanced around the table, then clapped her hands together.

“Well, how about we clear the table and grab some wine?”

Hugh and I immediately stood up, ready to help, but Blake waved us off. “Oh no, you two relax. Ryan and I have it covered.”

Ryan was already stacking plates and giving us a wink. “Yeah, sit tight, lovebirds.”

As we sat back down, Hugh placed his hand gently on my thigh, his touch making me feel all warm and cozy inside. He smiled at me, that tender look in his eyes that always made my heart skip a beat.

Feeling a bit giddy, I leaned in closer to him and whispered. “Do you think we should tell them about us now? Or wait until another time?”

Hugh’s thumb rubbed small circles against my leg as he considered it. “Yeah, let’s tell them. They’re our best friends—they should know we’re giving this a shot.”

His quiet confidence soothed the last of my nerves, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, just as the door to the dining room swung open, and Ryan strutted back in, carrying wine glasses.

“Ohohoh! What’s this? What did I just miss?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock shock. “And don’t forget, there are children in this house!”

Blake followed right behind him, her eyes darting between us, a curious smile playing on her lips. “What’s going on in here?” she asked, setting down a bottle of wine.

Hugh chuckled softly and glanced at me before addressing them both. “Actually, we wanted to tell you guys something. Y/n and I... well, we’re trying this thing out. We’re seeing where it goes.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Blake and Ryan exchanged looks, their expressions quickly morphing into wide grins. Blake let out a little squeal of excitement.

“Oh my god! You talked!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You two are adorable!”

Ryan set down the glasses with a loud clink, looking between Hugh and me with that signature playful grin of his. “Well, it’s about damn time! You guys have been giving off major will-they-won’t-they vibes for ages.”

Blake nodded enthusiastically. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

Their support and enthusiasm washed over me, easing any lingering uncertainty I had. Hugh squeezed my hand under the table, and I couldn’t help but smile up at him, grateful for how effortlessly everything seemed to fall into place.

Ryan, never one to miss a joke, raised his glass toward us. “Here’s to y/n and Hugh—and to all the future awkward family dinners where we can tease you both relentlessly.”

Blake snorted with laughter, pouring everyone a glass of wine. “Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you. Sometimes.”

We all raised our glasses, clinking them together in a toast to new beginnings.

The conversation flowed easily as we all continued to drink our wine, sharing more stories and laughing until our glasses were empty. Eventually, we decided to join the kids in the living room. As soon as we walked in, Inez grabbed my hand, pulling me toward her pile of Barbies, while Penny and Baxter trotted over to greet us.

I sat on the floor with one hand helping Inez arrange her Barbies while my other hand stroked Baxter, who had curled up next to me. The rest of the group settled on the couches, chatting and laughing as the kids played around us.

We spent a while there enjoying the comfortable, laid-back atmosphere, but eventually, I felt a yawn escape me. Ryan noticed it immediately and pointed dramatically.

“Alright, I think it’s official—time for all the kids to head to bed!” he teased, earning a laugh from Blake and a chorus of giggles from the actual children.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I guess I walked right into that one.”

Blake stood up and stretched, signaling that the evening was winding down. “Yeah, we should probably wrap things up before we have to carry anyone out of here.”

We all said our goodbyes, exchanging hugs and thanking each other for the great night. As we stepped outside, Hugh and I found ourselves standing by our cars, lingering in the cool night air.

I smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening still lingering between us. “So, what’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”

Hugh shrugged lightly. “Not too exciting, honestly. I’m helping a friend with some work on his house in the morning, then I’ve got a doctor’s appointment and after that, I’m calling my brother to talk about my visit in Sydney to catch up with my family.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a busy day. Hometown huh?"

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen everyone." he said softly, then smiled at me. “What about you? Plans with Chris?”

I grinned, the thought of seeing Chris again making me feel both nostalgic and excited. “Yeah, but we’re not meeting until the evening for a drink. Until then I'll call my parents because I promised them last week and after that I'll meet up with my management."

For a moment, we stood there, the air between us feeling charged in a quiet, tender way. After a small pause, we leaned into each other at the same time. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other hand found its way to my cheek. Our lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.

When we pulled away, there was a comfortable silence between us, our eyes lingering on each other as if neither of us wanted to say goodbye just yet. I gently stroked my hands over his shoulders down to his chest.

“Well." I said, my voice a little softer than usual. "I guess I’ll see you soon. Good night."

Hugh nodded, his smile warm and easy. “Yeah, good night y/n. Text me when you're home."

"Will do." I smiled.

With that, we each got into our cars, and as I drove home, my mind wandered back to the evening—Blake and Ryan’s support, the kids, the laughter, the stories, and of course, the kisses. My heart felt lighter than it had in a long time, and I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about tomorrow’s meeting with Chris.

---------------------------------------------------

Tags: @spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

Note

hiii, could you write something about Tom meeting his celebrity crush ( he also maybe said it in an interview) at the Museum Gala? She is a big actress ( maybe did house of the dragon or something). She thinks he is super hot and she has seen the new hunger games movie, so she kinda flirts with him because she knows she is his celebrity crush and he is a nervous wreck. Eventually they start going out and end up dating! Just something about another British Tom manifesting his life LMAO

could you also add some insta posts ? I love this kinda of au! I hope you like this idea

lots of 💋 t!

And They Meet || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: love love this request ty anon 😙

Warnings: none!

Wc: 1,232

Dividers by @pommecita

“Do you have a celebrity crush?” The question caught Tom by surprise as he chuckles, his fingertips tapping on his chin. “I do actually, uh Y/n Y/l/n.” He admits for the first time on camera.

“I watched House of the Dragon the moment it came out and I just fell in love with how she portrayed Alicent Hightower, truly one of the greatest actresses at such a young age,” He smiles like a mad man as he recalls the time he first saw her on screen.

The gorgeous green coloured dress you would wear looked heavenly, and of course, your impeccable acting drew his attention. He binge watched the first season over and over, a smile adorning his lips everytime you would bless his screen with your beauty.

“Have you met her Tom? She’s a lovely person in real life.” The brunette sighs, “Unfortunately I have not, soon hopefully, soon,” He crosses his fingers as he lets out a low chuckle before moving on.

You watch with a grin on your face the interview that mentioned you. After Tom revealed that you were infact, his celebrity crush, you couldn’t help but feel like a giddy high school girl.

The thought that the Tom Blyth took a fancy towards you was mind blowing, especially since you’ve watched him from afar and admired him for quite some time now. You remember you first saw him on Billy the Kid and thought he was exceptional, and quite attractive.

“You think he would be at the museum gala next month?” You lift your head to Ally, your manager as she thinks. “Most likely, why’s that?” She smirks at you as you roll your eyes jokingly. “Nothing, nothing, just wondering,” You put your hands up in defence.

“Okay you have 10 minutes left,” Ally looks at her watch. You were at The Kelly Clarkson Show about to be interviewed about the upcoming season of the House of the Dragon.

“Y/n, do you have a type? If so, I think your fans would like to know, don’t you?” Kelly winks to the crowd as they erupt into laughter, including yourself. “Physical wise? Most definitely tall, brunette, blue eyes, a nice smile-“ “That sounds a whole lot familiar to a guest I just had a couple days ago….” Kelly teases as your eyes widen.

“Really?” A nervous chuckle leaves your lips, “Yeah, a Mr Tom Blyth happens to fit that description. I also know he mentioned you as his celebrity crush just the other day,” You play with the ring on your finger as you look at Kelly as if it was new news to you.

“Did he really?” You couldn’t help the smile off your face, “I watched the movie the day it came out and I understand the girlies who were rooting for Coryo,” You fan yourself jokingly, “truly understand.” The crowd cheers as you laugh. “I mean, I’m willing to ignore the red flags because he’s just so incredibly good looking!” You were lowkey fangirling.

“I know right!” Kelly agrees, “Tom did such a fantastic job playing young Snow, he really charmed us all,” You grin.

“Do you think she’s going to be at the gala?” Tom lifts his head up, the interview of you at The Kelly Clarkson Show displayed on his phone. “She should be,” His manager says as he smiles to himself, his eyes redirecting to his phone as you continue to talk about House of The Dragon.

Truth be told, after her let the entire world know that your his celebrity crush, he had been basking in the many comments saying how good the two of you would look together. It boosted his ego for sure.

He was hoping he’d finally be able to see you tonight at the museum gala and feed fans content. The second Tom set foot the gala, his eyes wandered around, hoping to see a glimpse of you. "Are you looking for someone Tom?" An interviewer calls out as he chuckles whilst posing for the photographers. "Yes actually," He responds with a shy smile.

Then, he hears loud screaming coming from the entrance as everyone in the gala turns their head towards the noise. And in you walked. Tom was standing in the red carpet section along with other celebrities as you walk towards his way, waving at the cameras along the way.

You wore a beautiful black gown, your hair in curls as the cascade down your back. Tom didn't even realise but he was staring at you, his mouth slightly agape, entranced by your beauty.

Cameras take photos and videos of Tom's reaction to you, it was quite cute. A man who finally got to see his celebrity crush in front of his eyes. Little did he know, you were looking around, hoping to find him.

Your eyes look around the place before you spot Tom, a few metres away from you as your eyes lit up. Abandoning your spot where you were posing for the cameras, you picked up the fabrics of your dress with the help of your assistants and made your way over to him.

It took a few seconds for Tom to realise that you were walking towards his direction. "Tom!" You greet him, going in for a hug as if you had known each other for years. He was slightly taken back but nonetheless hugs you respectfully. "How are you, darling?" He says as you pull back.

The pet name making you blush as you grin at him. You always knew Tom's eyes were blue, but jesus, you didn't realise just exactly how blue they are from up close. "I'm great now that I've finally met you," You chuckle, your hand gripping his bicep as he bites his lip lightly, smiling at you.

"Your eyes are really blue," You blurt out as he laughs, "I get that a lot," "Y/n! Tom! Can we get a picture of the two of you please?" Paparazzi calls out as you and Tom make eye contact, not realising how close your faces were before quickly looking away shyly.

"May I?" He says to you, asking if he could put his hand on your waist. What a gentleman. "Of course," You grin at him as he snakes his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip as your arm wraps around his waist.

The two of you looked good, good together. Throughout the night, you and Tom couldn't get away from each other. He was always by your side, even when you were doing interviews, and vice versa. His hand would rest on the small of your back protectively as you two navigated your way around.

Even at the dinner, he was coincidentally seated beside you which made you happy. You even recorded a video for your Instagram story about it and tagged him. The two of you hit it off straight away, exchanging numbers and even planning to meet up in a couple of days.

Being each other's celebrity crush blossomed into even more. Tom asked you to be his girlfriend after a few weeks of seeing each other and fans were going crazy, saying how he manifested it. You and Tom as a couple received so much support from everyone, including those in the acting industry saying how much of a talented young couple you were.

#fanfiction #tom blyth #tomblythfluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x actress!reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tom blyth x you #social media #social media au

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lewisvinga · 1 year ago

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no me importa | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; when a recent video exposes y/n and lewis’ relationship, other people think they can comment on their age gap, but at the end of the day y/n and lewis will always love each other

fc; cindy kimberly

warnings; age gap , mentions of 18+ themes

notes; loosely based off of mayor que yo by wisin & yandel and mayor que usted by natti natasha, daddy yankee, wisin & yandel :p , also reader is kinda implied as latina but it’s not important

me 🤝 writing smau’s abt dating older men

masterlist !

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,020,047 others!

yourusername: made vegan alfredo for me n bae, definitely went into a food coma after

tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco

lewishamilton: wifey material

yourusername: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

lewishamilton: it was amazing, love ❤️

yourusername: i put my blood sweat n tears into that alfredo, it better have been damn well amazing😕 ( thank u love💗💗)

username: so this is a confirmation?

username: girl did u not see the video, they were shoving their tongue down each others throat ???😦😦

username: cute but age gap is still icky to me 😕

username: tbh dating someone 13 years older than me is weird asf 😭

rosecoelovescoco: thank’s you’s

yourusername: ur welcome if u stop chasing lunita around 😕

lewishamilton: he is just a baby!

yourusername: so is my gatita lunita , she’s a scaredy cat , literally !!😞

username: she’s so pretty in everything what😞

username: 😍😍😍

lilymhe: cook for me next? 😏😏

yourusername: give me the time n place😉

username: ok but her learning how to make vegan pasta for lewis?? is so??? cute ????🥹🥹

username: he’s a grown man n 13 years older, he can cook for himself

username: it’s never that serious

liked by username, username, and 93,038 others!

f1upadates: Lewis Hamilton and Y/n L/n were both spotted at the British Fashion Awards after confirming their relationship. Thoughts on the new grid couple?

tagged; lewishamilton, yourusername

username: the fact she designed her outfit n did her hair and makeup 😩🙌

username: they’re such a good looking couple even if he’s like 13 years older than her 😭

username: i need her skincare routine!😩

username: be 13 years younger than your boyfriend helps!

username: she’s so desperate that she needs to date someone older than her? how embarrassing 💀💀

username: her parents must be so disappointed…

username: why? shes a model w her own fashion line dating a 7x (8x) world champion, they’ll be fine😭

username: y’all coming at her for dating someone older like you wouldn’t date your faves who are also older!! she’s just living the y/n life

username: REAL

yourusername posted to their story!

trans. for lyrics ; and i don’t care if i’m younger than you

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 1,230,937 others!

lewishamilton: heard she likes señores [sirs]

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: sir lewis hamilton 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

landonorris: i can’t take you calling him sir every 5 seconds pls stop i beg

georgerussell63: ‘yes, sir’ THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( lando )

landonorris: wait-

yourusername: sorry not sorry, unless you’re a sir you wouldn’t get it 😁

lewishamilton: what she said😁

yourusername: mi amor, te quiero 💗 [my love, i love you]

lewishamilton: i love you🩷

username: idk if i want him or her tbh🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username: she’s so😍😍

username: i’d call him sir any day i get her fr

username: they’re such an attractive couple😩

username: how’d lewis bag her im being so fr

username: bc they’re both fine as fuck 😍

username: mis padres [my parents]

username: mami y papi fr [mommy & daddy]

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,023,044 others!

yourusername: no me importa q usted sea mayor q yo. [i don’t care if you’re older than me]

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: wait, when did you take the second picture?

yourusername: baby i got a whole folder of those type of pictures, i take them every chance i get

username: SHARE W THE PUBLIC HELLO??

yourusername: y/n.jpg but it’s just pics of lewis’ back

lewishamilton: i love you❤️

yourusername: i love youuuu💗

username: the hand pics i’m going insane 😵‍💫🥴

username: ou that back pic, i’m going ferallll

lilymhe: omg bae stop posting pics of me 🙈🙈🙈

yourusername: ur too cute my bad😪

lewishamilton: stop stealing my gf

alex_albon: gf stealer !

username: the 3rd pic🥹🥹

username: yall need a third??

username: i can take them both ( not in a fight )

georgerussell63: if only he could look at me like he looked at u in the last picture 🕊️🕊️🕊️

lewishamilton: i will if you look like y/n

yourusername: my bad i’m too cute 😁

carmenmmundt: merc double dates now??

yourusername: uh duh, merc wags stick together 🫶

#f1 scenario #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #formula one smau #formula one x reader #formula one scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton social media au

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ruins-of-babylon · 5 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

Slytherin boys + Pansy x reader fluff

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎：they have a crush on you 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈：mentions of drugs and alcohol, kinda praise kink but nothing NSFW 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈：Enzo Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson

𝔈𝔫𝔷𝔬 The first time Lorenzo saw you, you seemed to glisten like stars in the night sky. He was in total awe of you, his new muse. You were dancing at a party, a joint between the fingers of your right hand, while the other was raised above you, swaying to the music blaring from several speakers around the room. You were ethereal, too perfect. He reluctantly took his eyes off you as he looked around for Mattheo, the host of the party you were both at, along with anyone who was anyone at Hogwarts. His feet maneuvered him around the thrashing bodies around him, flailing limbs hitting his body recklessly. When he finally spotted Mattheo, he watched as a blonde girl grinds her hips against his, a smirk on his face, as he took a sip from the red cup in his hand. Lorenzo thought about whether he should bother his friend or not, he did seem kinda busy. But as he looked around for you, his eyes landing on your figure from across the room, he quickly decided his priorities.

He tapped Mattheo’s arm, an impatient look on his face as he turned. “Hey Matt, do you know who that girl is?” He asked, getting straight to the point. Mattheo followed Lorenzo’s finger as he pointed to you, and when he realized who he was asking about, he nodded.

“She’s new. A friend of Pansy’s. You should ask her about her.” He dismissively said, returning his attention back to the girl dancing on him. Lorenzo sighed internally, looking around to find Pansy on his wild goose chase. His eyes strained against the dark lighting, moving around the intoxicated people his age, trying to distinguish Pansy’s character from the others. Once he did, he quickly moved in her direction, feeling frustrated when the bodies surrounding him wouldn’t move to make a path for him. As he pushed through the crowd, he couldn’t help but turn his gaze to you again, indulging himself. When he reached Pansy, he tapped her shoulder as he did Mattheo’s.

“Matt said you know that girl.” He said, pointing to you again. Pansy nodded her head.

“Her name is (y/n). You should talk to her!” She encouraged her friend. Lorenzo turned toward you, a smile on his face and butterflies in his stomach as he walked toward your figure.

𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔬

He had never really noticed you until you were sat next to each other in one of your classes. You were quiet, and didn’t really hang out with any of his friends, which is probably why. But he definitely noticed you now. He thought you were gorgeous, an angel on earth. He tried to flirt the only way he knew how.

“Can I change seats please?” Mattheo shouted at the new seating arrangement, several snickers from your classmates following.

The teacher looked rather annoyed, always having to manage Mattheo’s class clown behaviors. “No, Mr. Riddle. Please sit down and finish the assignment.” She said in a blank tone, not even raising her gaze from her desk. Mattheo faked a frown, sitting down in the seat next to you reluctantly. You knew he was just trying to be funny, like the attention seeker he was. So, you weren’t too bothered by his statement, and you refused to take it personally. You didn’t exactly like to sit next to him either.

“Can I copy your work?” He whispered to you, fidgeting with his pen.

You looked at him with a stoic expression, “No. Do your own work.” You replied. He annoyed you, to be frank.

“Please, princess. I know you’re smart.” He slightly panicked, regretting his previous tactic. He was so used to getting any girl he wanted, he wasn’t well versed at actually flirting.

“No, and please don’t call me that.” You replied calmly, still focused on your work. He felt like you were slipping through his fingers, he had barely talked to you and he already fucked up, almost past redemption. He snatched the paper from you, bringing it to his other side, where you couldn’t reach it, and began scribbling the answers onto his own paper. You got up, your stool squealing against the floor as you walked to get your paper back. He just kept moving it away from you, laughing as you sighed in frustration. Both of your frantic movements drew the attention from the whole class as well as your teacher.

“Mr. Riddle, Miss (y/l/n), what is going on?!” Your teacher yelled at you and Mattheo, getting up to walk towards you.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, not concerned about the detention you were both likely to receive. All that meant was more time with you.

𝔗𝔬𝔪

BANG!

The sudden noise startled everyone in the classroom, quickly turning to the source of the disruption. There you stood, your cauldron laying on its side on the floor, the contents spilling everywhere. You blushed, clearly embarrassed, as you picked up the cauldron and cast a spell to clean the mess.

“Are you alright?” The teacher called to you.

You nervously bit your lip, smiling awkwardly. “Yes, I’m just clumsy.” You said, praying for everyone to continue with their work instead of looking at you. Eventually they did, except for one pair of eyes, unbeknownst to you: Tom Riddle. He was hidden in a corner of the room several seats from you, captivated by you. He found you adorable, and wanted to get to know you. He didn’t get much attention from girls, due to his scary looks and nature, so he wasn’t sure how to approach you, preferring to watch you from afar instead. This had been going on for a few months, and Tom was desperate.

“Umm,” the teacher started, “Tom, could you help Miss (y/l/n) with this assignment?” The teacher asked, volunteering his best student to be a helping hand. He shakily nodded, his legs carrying him over to your desk. He couldn’t lift his eyes to meet yours, quickly explaining the steps to craft the potion. You nodded and followed his instructions to a T, and soon your potion was complete.

“Thank you so much, Tom. I’m so grateful for your help.” You said, smiling at him. He smiled at your words, finally meeting your eyes with a fond gaze.

“No problem. You did a good job.” He praised. Feeling a surge of confidence, he leaned into you, whispering close to your ear, “good girl.” Before turning briskly and walking back to his seat. You flushed bright red, your mouth slightly agape at his words. He looked back at you, feeling victorious at your expression.

𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔬

Theo’s favorite hobby, by far, was definitely quidditch. The rush of soaring over the field, hundreds of feet in the air, the screaming crowds, the loud announcements of every player’s move. Everything about it was exciting and fun for him. Not to mention all the friends he made by being on the team. As a new school year rolled in, and quidditch season began, a new player was added to the team: you. You got along with everyone quite well, probably due to your friendly and charming manner. Even Draco, who didn’t like many people, liked you. You were amazing at quidditch, also. What wasn’t to love about you? That’s how Theo felt, for sure. He had heart eyes whenever he saw you. So, his new favorite hobby was looking at you. Of course, he had to make you his, but how? Eventually he devised a plan he thought would blow you away and fall in love with him. He included Blaise in his plan, having his friend intentionally hit a bludger at you, making it look like an accident. You were pushed off your broom, your hands clinging desperately to the wooden material as you hung hundreds of feet from the ground. Theo, like the gentleman he is, swooped in and pulled you onto his broom, saving you from a terrifying fate. You were so relieved, you could have kissed him! And that’s exactly what you said, your arms wrapped around Theo as he flew you down to the field. When you reached the ground, you let go of him, your heart still racing from tempting death, or the guy you had a huge crush on saving you, you didn’t know.

“Why don’t you, then.” He said half jokingly, tapping his cheek and turning his head, motioning you to kiss his cheek. He smiled as you walked towards him, ready to claim his reward and slowly growing closer to you. You definitely surprised him when you grabbed his chin and pulled his face forward, kissing his lips gently. You pulled away too soon for his liking, and you giggled as he chased your lips, slowly opening his eyes when he was unsuccessful in bringing you back towards him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and whispering in his ear, “my knight in shining armor.”

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢

Everyone had heard the news, apparently there was supposed to be a new student attending Hogwarts, in the middle of the year. The school didn’t have many new kids, most started attending in first year, and when there were new students, they usually started in the beginning of the year, so hearing that someone was coming several months into the semester was certainly news. Blaise didn’t really care, preferring to hear actual drama. Until the teacher introduced you to the class, then he cared. And when the teacher asked for a volunteer to help the new student, his hand shot up faster than it should have. Maybe he looked desperate, but he knew girls liked an obsessed boyfriend. Of course the teacher picked him, trying to play matchmaker when she saw his hand raised. You sat down next to him, feeling quite shy after his clear desperation. He asked so many questions, all his attention on you. Where are you from? Do you have a boyfriend?

Do you have your eyes on anyone?

Has anyone asked you out yet? How are you liking the school so far?

You answered each one, and soon, the class was dismissed, both of you hadn’t even touched your work. He walked you out of the classroom, stopping right outside the door.

He brought your hand to his lips, softly kissing the back of your hand. “What’s your next class? I’ll walk you there.” He was such a gentleman. Let’s just say, he had you from day one.

𝔓𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔶

“God really does have favorites.” Pansy sighed, watching you sit down at your table and begin to eat breakfast. Theo sighed from next to her, already knowing who she was talking about, having already heard about you several times a day for several months.

“Please, for my sanity, just ask her out.” He pleaded. He knew you two would be a cute couple, and more so, he was tired of hearing about her crush on you.

“I don’t even know if she likes girls.” Pansy groaned, hating the idea of you not liking her the same way she liked you. As she admired your beautiful face, you suddenly turned your head in her direction, making eye contact. Pansy quickly looked down, feeling the heat rise to her face and ears. How embarrassing! After a few seconds, she cautiously lifted her head back up, looking at you. She was confused to see you still looking in her direction, a smile on your face as you waved. She hesitantly raised her hand and waved back, wondering what you were thinking. Were you friends? Did you possibly like her back? Her mind raced, almost turning to tell Theo what she was thinking when you suddenly got up. She hoped - or maybe dreaded - that you were walking to her, and as you confirmed her suspicions and sat down in the seat directly across from Pansy, she felt as though she would explode.

“Hi Pansy, I’m (y/n), we have a few classes together.” You said, trying to open up a conversation with the girl sitting across from you.

“Oh yes, I remember.” She replied rather quickly, regretting how fast she responded after it had already slipped past her lips. You only laughed, a sound she wanted to hear forever.

“I was wondering if you wanted to study together in the library sometime? You know, with the potions assessment coming up.” You asked.

Pansy’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest at the thought. “Of course! How about today after dinner?” She suggested, trying to sound casual.

“Sounds like a plan. See you then.” You said before getting up and heading back to your own table.

————

I hope you enjoyed! <3

456 notes · View notes

ophelieverse · 6 months ago

Note

Hii there Lia,i’m a little embarrassed because i’ve been following you since the beginning and i loved all of your posts,this time i wanted to be brave and ask for a request.I’m a Daemon girly,so can I request an imagine where he and reader kinda have a thing going on?Like it’s not official but they do😏😏things?Thank you for your service and your works,luv u💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

✦ ⟢balance

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

—Summary:reader is a dragonseed,the daughter of bastard child of one of the Targaryens,when the Rogue Prince went to search for dragon riders to fight in the war he sets his eyes on her for more than one purpose.

—Warnings:poor smut writing,reader will have the valyrian silver hair,kinda of incest,Daemon cheats on Rhae with reader(i apologize my Queen i love you)age gap(reader is legal)and Daemon being himself as always.

•—thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If as a child they had told her that balance would be one of the basic requirements to ride a dragon,Y/n would never have believed it.

Because after all,even though she could have guessed it with the strength of the intellect,she was just a child who loved to dream and saw soldiers as heroes who had become such thanks to the strength of training.However,the truth was in the middle:it took talent and strength to become a good soldier,then a good dose of willpower and finally balance.

Y/n had lived her whole life on the island of Dragonstone and she was pretty sure that she was also going to die of old age,maybe in her warm bed or with her feet deep in the sand,in the place that she had always called home.

Her father was a fisherman from Essos,Volantis to be exact that loved to take her on his boat and tell her stories about his home in the other continent.A simple man,an insignificant part of sand in the sea.Nothing special.Her mother however,was definitely something more special and it could be seen in her wild silver hair that danced in the morning breeze.

The white tangle of mess that crowned her head was the only thing that Y/n had inherited from her mother.The stained and not pure Valyrian blood that circled in her veins,the proof that the fairy tales about dragons,princesses and castles that her mother used to whisper to her at night before putting her to sleep,were part of them.Her mother was a bastard child,daughter of the princess Gael Targaryen.

And Y/n was her granddaughter,her mother made sure that she remembered that before her death,that she was also the blood of the old Valyria and that the dragons that she had saw on the island were hers by birth right.That she shouldn’t be settling down for an ordinary life but that she could be so much more.A dragon rider.

Balance.

And she would have never believe it as a child that that word would be one of the keys to her entire future:of choices made on the spot that could aim for the balance of the situation in just a few seconds.

But also of balance merely on the physical side: she remembers how long it took to find the balance necessary to stand straight on Vermithor,the bronze fury who seemed to have taken a liking in her choosing Y/n as his new rider. When from the bottom of her eight years and with a few teeth missing it seemed so easy to her for the Targaryen to fly up there.

She had spent years of her life,running up and down the docks,nose up in the air,eyes never leaving the sky and the beautiful creatures flying back on the hills of Dragonstone.Never in her life Y/n thought that one day she would have been up there with them,riding King Jaehaerys dragon for the coming war.

She remembers it as if it were yesterday:the heavy wood on her shoulders, the suspenders pulling on her dress,the smell of sweat and fish -by who stood still under the sun,like her,to look at the Rogue Prince,Daemon Targaryen walking through the dirty streets.She remembers the gravel under his feet,the clean smell of his clothes,the way his purple eyes seemed to shine under the light and the way they were studying her whole body from the top of her head to her bare feet.

Y/n could also remember the way she felt her skin catch of fire,they way her father trembled next to her without saying a word,as the prince took a strand of her hair between his fingers.Carefully,as if he was counting every single hair,he brought them to his nose to give them a sniff.

«Yes.»his voice was low,it made her shiver,his eyes never leaving hers«You smell like a dragon.»it sounded like he was disgusted but on his face there was no trace of it.

It’s been months since then,but Daemon hadn't aged much from that day,or at least,she remembered him exactly with that aspect.The long pale hair styled to perfection,the nails well-groomed,the voice deep.Clean clothes.The blade of his sword shiny and sharp.Purple eyes with pure fire behind them.White skin and beard shaved to perfection.

He is sitting in front of Y/n with his legs apart at the foot of the bed as he finishes reading a report.The war was closer each day and they needed to be ready.Y/n slipped into his room like every night.

Daemon was married to Queen Rhaenyra,but he didn’t spend much time with her.He had a war to prepare and to win.He was the one that suggested to find more dragon riders,the one that went searching for them and the one that trained them.All of them,four to be exact,were simple people before a dragon had claimed them.

Y/n was chosen by Vermithor,a massive creature with more teeth than anything else,whose roar shook the very foundations of Dragonstone.

«The best for the best.»Daemon had commented,holding her hand as he helped her getting down.

«I’m sure he is.»Y/n had muttered once she was steady on her feet,on the solid ground«But i don’t know if i will be able to be of any help.He will be better without me on him.»she said,placing a insecure hand on the dragon head.

The Rogue Prince observed the way the creature nuzzled against her touch«You have blood of the dragon in you.He knows it,you know it.You exist and there are no more excuses,you were born to do this.»his voice was more gentle this time.

He hadn’t been this caring and careful with Ser Hugh or Addam,keeping his face stoic and his eyes cold while he was telling them what to do with their dragons.But the war was closer each day and the last thing he needed was a scared little girl that didn’t knew how to ride a dragon.

Y/n was young,naive,soft and pure.Everything that he wasn’t,everything that he saw in his niece when he was just a child,everything he took from him previous wife,that he had lost in the daughter he didn’t met and in the one that he ignores.Everything that he craved and wanted,that was pulling him to her like a moth to a flame.

In the beginning he thought it was because of that.Y/n was much younger that he was,she didn’t had any manners,he would think of her as a ignorant and savage girl that didn’t knew how to read or write,which silverware to use at the dinner table,how dress properly or how to take care of her beautiful moon hair.

So he took care of her.He thought her how to read and write,how to sit at a table,how to hold a sword .Once her face was clean from the dirt and her skin smelled of roses and vanilla,dressed in one of Rhaena pastel pink dresses,he saw in her the purity and familiarity he had lost in those years.The innocence that he took from the women in his life without asking,the perfect immaculate skin that he didn’t stained yet,the hair,just like his,that he didn’t pulled,the beautiful heart shaped lips he didn’t tasted.

It was like looking at a ghost from his past,as she was in front of him so unsure and with the desire to please in every possible way,to make him proud,to have him pay attention to her,to just become his favorite.

«The key is in the balance.»he had explained to her,his big hand covering her lower back as he walked her back to the castle.

«Balance?»Y/n asked confused with a little voice.

Daemon nodded«Once you will find your balance and be steady on your own feet,everything will be easier.»he said.

Balance.

Y/n marks it in her mind,every letter as a stepping step.It's what she thinks she's found for the first time in her life:Daemon gives her a sense of calmness,peace after the battle,even after the biggest losses,even if he seems more broken,more broken after every defeat or every time that he has a fight with Rhaenyra.

But his presence is still reassuring.It's like a hot tea when you have a sore throat.Like honey in milk.Reassuring,comforting.Somehow.

Daemon was the first person that had spent so much time to take care of her and Y/n knew it was wrong.It wasn’t proper the way he would sit next the bathtub while she was washing,in the way he would brush her hair every night,kiss her forehead and cradle her head on his chest before falling asleep.It wasn’t proper when he was married,to the Queen no less,it was treason and it mean death penalty.But that didn’t stop them.

He had a perfect balance between Y/n,the young and virgin girl,the pure maiden,the new thing in his life and Rhaenyra,the old mad Queen,the one thing he already had possessed and had nothing else to offer him.

Daemon is all Y/n knows about life.He made sure to teach her that.It is the balance of the spirit and the balance of the body.It's the beauty of his armor and in the way he stands proudly on Caraxes,the way he spend his time to clean Dark Sister.The shirt just opened and messy hair on his head.

He is tired.He is already half undressed.The cloak hung him on the chair.

Y/n,on the other hand,is not as balanced as he is,she had tried for him but she had failed:she still feels the adrenaline running through her blood, running through her veins and singing her soul.She knows what she wants to put out the fire,to turn off the brain,to regain balance.

And she waits with all her might just like Daemon with patience.

Balance.First duty then pleasure.He had talked with Rhaenyra about the battle plans and then he went to call for Y/n to spend the night with her.

Y/n is learning to be patience,so she observes him:she looks at his long silver hair tickling down his neck,the first buttons of his shirt open and his lips reading.His purple eyes are hidden behind the paper in his hand:he has a curved back and his arms resting on his thighs.

Y/n can't help but think about how much he likes Daemon,even with sweaty hair,especially like that. So human,so true.In that little corner that is created between them,in the late evening,in that room.

It seems to her that everything else does not exist,that the world is not that terrible place dominated by fire and blood,that human beings are free,that she can love Daemon and that Daemon can love her.

And so she wait impatiently on the bed with her bare feet rubbing placidly on the sheets«Do you still have a lot of those?»she whispers not to be heard outside the room and perhaps not to be heard even by Daemon himself,because she knows how this war is important and how easy he is to piss off.

«Yes.»Daemon answer was short and he didn’t moved a inch from his previous position.

Y/n didn’t responded.She barely snorts and drops her head on the pillow.Her mental balance is quickly faltering.After that day all she wants is Daemon,she wants to forget,she wants sex and to hold him.

She wants to tell him all those things that can only be said in bed.Where she could pretend to be princess,the only woman in his life,the only one that he has ever touched and wanted like this.

«I'm almost done.»Daemon then adds without saying anything else.

But Y/n smiles.She knows that message.Daemon does this when he realizes that he has been too rude,too unpleasant or cold especially after a battle.

«Alright.»Y/n lifts her back from the mattress and leans with her forehead against his.

It's hot.She breathes his perfume and goes straight into her veins and it's like wood on the fire:she can't do it and grabs him by the jaw and makes his head turn to the side,she kisses him with her tongue,puts it in his mouth as much as she can and then bites his lip.The breath hiss against her cheek because there is not enough room for the air to pass through.

Y/n hears him moaning with annoyance but he doesn't move.And the balance is lost in that fire of souls and bodies that is being consumed.

He puts a hand in her hair and kisses her again.He wants it,he wants it more than anything,more than revenge,more than blood.Daemon indulges her because after all he needs it too,he needed the taste of skin,the smell of her body,that balance was broken,broken like them.

Then he turns around and puts a hand around her neck and pushes her forcefully against the mattress.That's enough to start to make her feel the familiar warmth between her legs.

Daemon notices it right away.He knows she likes it,he knows it excites her.He blocks the air in her throat and sticks his index finger in her mouth.

«Do you want me to fuck you,little girl?»his voice is far more gentle than the one he use to commands armies,but still it made her shiver«Is that what you want?»he could still sound so authoritative.

«Yes.»Y/n mutters with his finger in her mouth and the air that lacks in her lungs.

«I told you that I’m almost done.»he reminded her,referring to all the papers that were now on the cold floor.

Y/m mumbles something similar to a «I’m sorry.»her eyes are shiny.She’s red in the face and looks so desperate.

Daemon loosens his grip«Never mind,you made me want it too.»he said.

He kisses her without taking his hand off her neck,he kisses her vigorously,his tongue that caresses hers and in that moment she knows that Daemon has also lost control,the balance.

Y/n stretches her hand on his dressed erection and squeezes it,feels it hard,feels it warm and tense and this makes her arch her hips while they still kiss.

He once told her that dragons prefer heat and right now she feels like she's in a hot bath:her body is on fire.Daemon is able to do that to her,she doesn't understand it,she doesn't control it.She can't.

Y/n bites his lip and slowly unbuttons his shirt, discovers his chest like the first time and finds it – like every time – beautiful.

Even after a battle he always looks so clean,in this he reminds her of her mother.But Daemon more, he’s cleaner,more beautiful,more like fire and balance at the same time.He’s is the greatest contradiction of her life;yet,her greatest certainty.

Daemon hikes the material of her nightgown up her soft legs,keeping them open with his beautiful and muscular thighs.Trapping her in his spider web of pleasure and warmth.

Before Daemon,Y/n had never been interested in sex,or men.To anything that wasn't living another day on the island.Then he came looking for her,first as a soldier then as a man.

And he killed and at the same time gave birth to a part of her.By now her life was divided into before and after of Daemon.

He let the nightgown slide over her rib cage,his fingers feels like fire as they trace a path on her pure skin leaving goosebumps all over it.Her breast,her perky little nipples,the way her chest rise and fall so fast was enough to drive him crazy.He takes the nightgown off and leaves it at the foot of the bed with the grace that distinguishes him.

He leaves her neck flushed just to place a messy kiss on her puffy and rosy lips«It's really too easy to get you excited,little girl.» he murmurs,perhaps more to himself than to her.

However,Y/n is not embarrassed because she sees him in the same state:then with a tacit look she asks him for permission to undress him and finishes untiening his shirt, in a hurry as only she can do,then she moves on to his belt and pants.

He feels her skin on fire when his naked body matches with her own,when his erection and her wet flower meet and dance like their tongues.There is something poetic in that dirty dance,because everyone knows they shouldn't do it,but it's the only thing that makes it stable in that life devoid of any meaning,devoid of balance and certainties.

Daemon and his body,Daemon and his perfume,Daemon and his mouthpiece.Daemon and his tongue digging into her mouth as if to want to suck even the last particle of oxygen into her lungs.Daemon and that rude and delicate way of doing things at the same time that sends him into ecstasy when he fights and fucks her.

He takes his time preparing her,caressing and tasting the sweet wet flower in between her legs.The purest ambrosia gifted by the gods,the most delicious sounds of pleasure.She feels his hot erection pressing against her little entrance,ready to ravish her.

Y/n tries to relax just like he taught her but her heart is stally and suddenly she feels like she is in a battle:she clings to Daemon hair,loses her balance on her elbows and leaves herself totally to him.

Daemon enters her with a blow drier than his hip,he mutters something in her mouth,as he bites her lips red as blood and she scratches his back.There is no need for words:he begins to push,and she feels her flesh give way,widen for him and make room for him,squeeze him in that welcoming way that vaguely reminds Daemon of home.

He pushes and Y/n tries to breathe as best as he can,she looks for oxygen that is not there,touches him on his back and spreads her legs more:she wants it more,more,more.She doesn't even have the strength to call his name for how strong the thrusts are and he touches that point so sweet and secret inside of her that makes her tremble.The one she,sometimes,looked for on her own but never found.Daemon knows how to touch it,he knows how to loosen her every uncovered nerve.

He knows how to make her lose her balance and then find her in that bath of sweat and moods,saliva and scratches.

The bed squeaches and no one cares,not even that anyone can hear them at that moment because,when they are together there is nothing else.The sheets are a disaster under their bodies, they are the perfect synthesis of what is going on in that bed.

Y/n welcomes the thrusts of Daemon,welcomes the moans with her mouth,squeezes him between his thighs and does not let him go but indulges him in that fluid and dancing movement.

The hands that squeeze her neck,then her arms and then her ass.

And then the orgasm comes like a thread that suddenly breaks;like a rubber band that breaks and bounces into the body and mind.He hits her deeply and can't help but indulge in those sensations.To that sea that invests her at the same time while Daemon comes inside her but she no longer understands anything.

Y/n feel like she is on a cloud,she feel like she is flying.The sweat-soaked back doesn't touch the bed but the sky.

And all of a sudden everything becomes calms and quiet.

Daemon kisses her shoulders as if to console her because he knows her thoughts,he knows his little girl.He cautiously gets out of her and moves to her side.And the balance in silence returns,as the beats of their heart slow down.

Because after all,life was a game of balance,and that was the perfect balance for them.

795 notes · View notes

xoxovanillq · 5 months ago

Text

WORLDS COLLIDE

i. meeting

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Warnings- Trust issues, Kissing, She/Her pronouns.

Word count- 1.5k

“Dude, have you seen the new girl yet?” Chris questions. Luke and him are sitting in their respective bunks in the Hermes cabin, taking the opportunity of an empty cabin to chat.

“No, not yet. Should I see her?” Luke responds, his tone inquisitive.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s like, exactly your type.” Chris replies, laying back in his bunk, turning his head to face Luke.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see her soon.” He replies, laying back in his bunk with a sigh.

You trudged into the Hermes cabin, exhausted, and ready to go to bed. It had been a long day, being the new kid at your age felt weird, especially with kids running around with more knowledge of this stuff than you. Everyone was somewhat nice, which was relieving, but no one really caught your eye, well, until that night.

You laid in your bunk, looking up a bit to see a tall boy, dark curls falling into his face as he quietly studied you.

“You new?” He asks, his voice deep and rich, causing your heart to pound a small bit faster. The boy was pretty, tall, a little bit unsure of himself, but it was kinda cute.

“Mhm, was it that obvious?” You reply, your exhaustion convened through your voice.

“No, no! Not at all! Listen, uh, I’m Luke.” He says with a small smile, moving closer and extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N, and it’s all good.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it. You find yourself lingering in the warmth of his hand, reluctant to let go. When you release his hand, you smile softly, enjoying the small connection the two of you had made.

“Well, I should let you rest, but it was really nice to meet you.” He says, smiling as you nod, he then turns away, walking back to his bunk bed.

Luke’s heart pounded as he laid in bed that night, still thrilled after the excitement of your meeting. Chris had been right, you were his dream girl, perfect, exactly who he had always wanted. He couldn’t wait to see you again, to hear your voice, to see your glowing smile. He felt like a giddy schoolboy with a crush, desperate for your attention.

He dreamed of you that night, of holding your hand, guiding you through life at camp. He hadn't ever fallen for someone like this, so fast, so desperate for attention.

When he woke up that morning, he was still desperately excited to see you, wanting nothing more to see your smile yet again.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He pipes up, sliding up beside you at the archery grounds. He didn't know why he bothered to check on your name, it had been in his thoughts for hours, ever since you told him.

“Yeah, it’s really good to see you again.” You emphasize the really, realizing that you may be starting to form a crush on the boy you had met only days ago.

“Yeah, yeah, um, you- you too.” God, he needed to get it together. He smiled, his heart warming as you smiled back. He watched you for a few minutes, looking at your aim. “Hey,” he suddenly piped up, “can I help you with your position a bit?”

“Oh, that would be amazing.” He quickly stepped up behind you, hands on yours as he moved your body little by little. His breath was hot on your neck, the smell of toothpaste, his shampoo, sun lotion, and sweat filled your nostrils, his own version of summer in a scent. It made you want to burrow your face into his neck, take in his musk.

“Alright, just aim, and shoot.” His voice brings you out of your dreamy haze. You shake your head a little, then release the arrow. He watches it soar through the air, hitting the target with precision. “Good job.” He praises, his voice light. making your insides heat up with both embarrassment and excitement.

“Thank you, really, you don’t know how much better you’ve made this all for me already.” You say with a light chuckle, all he could think about was how much better you had already made his life, just by existing.

“Hey, um, I know this is really random, but the lake, um, there’s a- a dock on it, and I wanna know if you’d want to go watch the sunset on it? Like, with me?” His heart pounds in his chest as he speaks. He was so scared to be rejected, maybe it was lingering fear, that finally trusting something would backfire on him.

“I- I’d actually love to, um, would it just be us?” You ask timidly, fearing that your feelings would be revealed too much, scaring him off.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you and all.” He replies, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Dude, you actually scored a date with her? She’s been here for like, 3 days, and all the guys are already on her.” Chris said after Luke had relayed the events of your encounter.

“Yeah, I think she’s into me too, I mean, she checked to see if we’d be alone, so that’s a score.” He says with a light chuckle before taking a bite of his dinner. He looked up to see you chatting excitedly with a few girls you had made friends with. It made him happy to see you happy, especially with your new friends.

“Just keep her close, all the other guys here would pounce on her in a heartbeat.” Chris adds, unknowing of how this seemed to spike Luke’s trust issues. He tried to push the thought away, but it was always there, lingering in the back of his head, even as he got ready to meet you.

There he sat, about 15 minutes before sunset, on the dock, fluffing his curls up while waiting for you. He hadn’t dressed up much, just wearing cargos and a black hoodie considering that it would get chilly as the sun went down. His jaw almost dropped when he saw you walk up. You wore a lace cami, pink with lace trim and a little bow, along with light wash, flared jeans.

“Holy shit, you are making feel really under-dressed. You look stunning.” He commented, eyes fixed on the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, even in the low light, as you took your seat beside him.

“I didn’t know what the dress code was for this, so I figured dressing nice would be the better option.” In all reality, you were hoping he’d give you his hoodie at some point in the night. “You look nice too, I mean, you always do.” You say softly, a blush forming across your face as you did.

“Thanks, thanks, uh, can I- is it okay- is it okay if I hold your hand?” He asks tentatively, the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart flutter a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice is low and quiet, you reach out to take a hold of his hand, shifting a bit closer to him, shoulder pressed to his. Your head leans a bit, and he nods, as if giving you approval to put it in his shoulder. The two of you sat there for a little while in silence, watching the colors of the sun set over the lake. Rich oranges and cotton candy pinks reflected on the lake’s surface. Luke could feel you shiver slightly, and it gave him an idea.

“Hey, if you’re cold, you can have my hoodie.” He offers, looking into your eyes. God, he loved your eyes, all the different colored specks, he could get lost in them forever.

“Oh, yeah, um, if it isn’t too much trouble.” You respond, almost shyly. He quickly takes his hoodie off, his shirt pulling up a bit, giving you a tantalizing glance at his abs. He hands it to you with a smile, and before you put it on, you reach over to fix his curls, now a bit messy.

Luke couldn’t believe this was happening, I mean, he was laying on the dock, watching the sunset with you, you were wearing his sweatshirt, and he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him. As the sun finally set, the stars coming out to light up the sky, he finally decided to make his move.

“Listen, I might be reading this wrong, but I really like you, and-” You cut him off, your lips finally pressing to his. Luke’s body melted, one hand going to your waist, the other to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, to melt into you, to burrow inside your heart and live there forever. He almost panicked when you pulled away, clutching your waist in a desperate attempt to keep you close. You just giggled, settling with your head in his lap.

“I think you’ve got your answer, Castellan.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader fluff #luke castellan smut

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misserabella · 1 year ago

Text

perfect sin

innocent sub virgin! abby x dom fem! reader

synopsis;; Abby was a good girl. Was…

cw;; use of y/n (sorry but it was needed), sub and complete inexperienced yet not innocent abby, references to the bible (algo unholy use of abby’s one) and church, mocking of god, the bible and sins (PLEASE AGAIN, DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY), cursing, alcohol drug use, dry humping, loss of virginity, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, scissoring, dumbification, masturbation (both receiving), oral sex (a receiving), worshipping kink & god kink (kinda???), overstimulation, dacryphilia (kinda?), finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Abby Anderson was a good girl. A straight A’s student, not a big fan of parties, hated alcohol, didn’t do drugs kind of good girl. And… she was really religious. She had always been. She accompanied her father to church every Sunday, went to a religious school and based her reading on her worn bible before going to bed every night. At her eighteen years of life, the most ‘unholy’ thing she had ever done was lie, and she made sure to swear that she’d never do it again.

But that oath didn’t age well, since she was, once again, lying about the fact that she’ll be staying over one of her church friends’ when she was planted in front of the biggest party she had ever seen —the only one she had ever seen, to be honest—.

Although Abby was a good girl, her best friend, Ellie Williams, surely wasn’t. They were complete polar opposites. You just had to stare at them to see that. Whilst Abby seemed like a complete church girl with her button shirt tucked on her caqui pants and her school’s white little sleeveless sweater on top. —She looked so nerdy and cute with those glasses of hers…— Ellie looked like a rockstar, with her smeared eyeliner, short auburn hair, black clothes and silver rings…

Nobody knew how the two of them could be such good friends… But they were. Ellie was a bad influence, always breaking the rules and getting in trouble. And Abby was… the good influence, the pure one of the couple, always in charge of putting some sense into Ellie’s head when her mind convinced her on doing things that seemed like a good idea when in reality were not and getting her out of trouble. They worked.

Ellie loved to hang out with Abby, always trying to make her do something bad and ‘unholy’ but always getting a ‘no’ for an answer. And she thought that it will be that way forever, but surprisingly enough, Abby had acceded to go with her to one of those crazy parties she always attended. So there they were, stepping into the packed house and automatically being hit by the smell of cheap alcohol, weed and hormones.

Abby didn't like it. She couldn’t help scrunching her nose, overwhelmed by the new surroundings. The air was saturated and it was too warm, making her glasses slightly fog.

Ellie laughed at her face, pushing one of her arms over her best friend’s shoulders and dragging her further inside with her. Abby felt as if the devil had took a hold on her and dragged her to Hell.

"Yo Ellie! Got some crystal?" Oh, right. Another thing about Ellie was that she was popular. Really popular. A lot of people waved at her as the two of them passed by. Probably due to her incredible stash and weed. But either ways, she had a lot of friends.

"Look for me later, 'lright? I´ll see what I can do for you then, pretty girls." the girls that had approached her smiled, nodding and giggling as they took off.

"Crystal?" Abby wondered, to what Ellie rolled her green eyes.

"Meth, Bibi. Meth." the blonde scrunched her face. She was well aware that Ellie was a dealer, she wasn't that stupid, she just didn't know much about it. And honestly, she'd like to keep it that way. Of course she was concerned for her best friend's well being, but Ellie had promised him that she wasn't getting into anything hard, weed was her way to go. "That shit is selling like Tommy’s beers." she shook her head, pulling her down the hallway and towards the salon, which connected to an open garden with pool and where the dancing floor took place.

"Ellie!!!" both of them turned to a brunette smiley girl with a cigarette on her left hand.

"Dina!" she seemed just as pleased to see the brown eyed as her to see her. "What are you doing here!?" the arm that stood around her shoulder fell when she stepped closer to her to pull her into a tight hug.

"Oh, you know... y/n." she rolled her eyes, still a happy smile making her cheeks swell.

Ellie chuckled. "That little friend of yours is a true menace..." she shook her head. "I like her." that only made Dina laugh.

"Everyone does..." she sighed, taking a hit to her cigarette as her eyes found Abby's. "Let me guess... Perfect hair, ironed clothes, that church girl's face...Is this Bibi?" Ellie smiled as she nodded, surrounding her friend's shoulder with her arm again before pulling her flush to her side.

"In holy spirit." Abby pushed her hand away when her fingers dug on her hair, messing it all up.

"Nice to meet you Dina." she said, offering one of her warm hands, trying to be polite.

"My pleasure." she actually took it, giving her a funny smile. "You seem scared... First party?" she felt his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as she nodded. “Aw, isn’t that cute… Try not to get eaten alive, hm?” Abby’s eyes widened at her words, but she simply laughed, stealing a bottle of whiskey from one of the guys that went heading towards the kitchen to refill the drinks before giving them their back, cigarette in between her lips as she walked away, turning around when she didn’t hear the two pair of friends following her. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”

They understood then, nodding and following her down another hallway and into a more private room. From the little people inside Abby thought it could be for VIPS. The room was big, with a couple of sofas sitting around a little coffee table, which stood full of cigarettes, alcohol, little plastic bags, weed…

It seemed to be that they had found the stoner room.

“Dina! Dina’s back!!” a sweet and drunk voice filled the room as the door closed behind their backs. Abby’s eyes met a dark haired girl on one of the sofas, cup in hand and a tipsy smile on her face.

Dina chuckled before going towards the drunk girl, who wrapped her arms around her, pulling her so hard down and against her that almost made her fall. “Lily!” she whined when her face was filled of little kisses, what made Ellie laugh.

Abby looked a little bit shocked when the two of them started kissing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you… Dina is gay. She’s dating Lily too.” Abby seemed amused by her reaction, which quickly faded. Was she surprised? Yeah, she was surely not expecting it. In her church everyone was so… straight. Was she disgusted? Absolutely not. She didn’t see any wrong in any kind of love. It was not ‘conventional’, as people would say, but it was still love and Abby was nobody to tell anyone what to or not to do. Also, she knew her best friend liked girls, and she didn’t love her any less for it.

“Thank god. She wouldn’t stop whining about how much she missed you, almost choked her to sleep for a moment there.” your amused voice chuckled beside her. When Abby’s eyes wondered towards the origin of the sound, she met a really pretty girl. Gorgeous even. Stealing breath away kind of pretty girl. You were dressed on a really tight and short red dress and black high heels. From her position she could see that your lips and eyes were of the same red color of your dress, the first due to a beautiful lipstick and the other probably for the blunt that stood in between your fingers. There was a hazed look on your face, and a soft smile tugging on your lips. Your hair flared a little bit as you turned to face the two best friends by the door. Abby felt like she couldn’t breath. Maybe due to the smoke inside the room… She thought. “Well I’ll be damned… Is that Ellie Williams?” your red eyes squinted a little bit, trying to focus on the auburn haired girl beside her, who shrugged as she stepped further into the room.

“What can I say? I’m famous amongst the ladies.” that made you laugh. And the sound of it was almost angelic. Abby’s heart tightened on her chest, your smile warming her up and making her feel all fuzzy inside. She was completely whipped. “Looking good y/n, been a long time since I last saw you.”

‘y/n’ So that’s who they had been talking about before… y/n, y/n… Even your name was pretty.

“Too long I’d say. Missed your weed. It is the best I’ve ever had.” she pressed a hand to her chest, honored. “And who is pretty girl over there?” Abby felt like fainting when your eyes met her body, lips around the blunt, sucking a new hit that left your throat burning up as the smoke filled your lungs.

“This…” Ellie pulled her by her arm, closer to you and the other two girls, strong enough to have her adjusting her crooked glasses. “Is Abby. Abby Anderson. My girl.” a smile crept on her lips when she recognized that look in your eyes as you scanned her up and down. “And who you are absolutely not getting closer to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus. That fast you claiming a pretty thing like her?” you chuckled, shaking your head just to ignore her and focus on the brunette. “Nice to meet you Abby.” her name rolling on your tongue made her heart fall to the pitch of her stomach, fingers tingling and breath hitching. “I like your sweater.” she coughed, clearing her throat when one of your legs crossed over the other, chest sticking out and your back arched as you accommodated yourself on the sofa. Her eyes darted elsewhere as she awkwardly scratched her neck.

“Thank you.” she stuttered. “I like your…, dress.” that’s the first thing that came to mind and, as she realized what she had just spit out, the stupidest thing too.

You smirked, taking another hit to the blunt. “You do?” you looked down at it. “It’s a little bit uncomfortable though, too tight.” you teased, although she didn’t seemed to get it. Not as Ellie did, scoffing to bring your attention back to her. “You seem uncomfortable too standing over there, why don’t you come take a sit?” you patted the empty place beside you.

“This is Abby’s first party.” she said, eyebrows raising in caution. “Came straight from church studies.” she put extra emphasis to those last two words, which only made you smile harder and Ellie sigh. You were the devil in disguise.

“Oh… A church girl.” you smirked. “That’s why I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember a pretty face like yours.” you winked at her, and her whole body flushed, making you chuckle. Why was this happening to her? She’d never felt like this… Not even with Owen, who had been dating her for a couple of weeks before she told him she couldn’t keep doing it. She didn’t love him. She wasn’t sure she even liked him. She couldn’t even bring herself to kiss him. And now you were making her blush that easily? Making butterflies come up her stomach?

“You. Stop it.” Ellie pointed at you with squinted eyes, making you rise your hands in a peace offering, faking innocence.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, you know what you are doing.” you tilted your head a little bit, smirk returning.

“Yeah I do…” you chucked, just to sigh afterwards. “Fine. I’ll be good.” you gave in. “But still, sit your ass here and give me something good, will you?”

Ellie smiled, quickly sitting down in one of the single sofas beside you. “Yes ma’am.” she teased you as she extracted from one of her front pockets a little plastic bag full of a shiny white powder. “Is this good enough?” she inquired and you only smiled, teasingly answering.

“This will do.” she laughed, watching you take a peek at the drug, shaking it in between your fingers a little bit. “You. Pretty girl.” you called for Abby, who had never stopped staring at you and got startled by your sudden attention. “Lend me your bible, will you?” she quickly pushed one of her hands on her front pocket, pulling out a pocket mini bible from it before walking towards you to hand it to you. Her eyes widened when you pulled her from her arm so she would sit down beside you, fingers lingering on her own as you took her bible from her hand. “Thanks.” you whispered, eyes on her own as you opened it to find just what you were looking for: a picture of Jesus.

You took it out and pushed the bible on top of the tea table before spreading the white powder on top of it, using the photo to spread it in thin and large lines. She was stunned, and Ellie was just too amused to stop you, finding it funny the fact that you were using something ‘holy’ to deal with something that was not.

“Amen.” you muttered before bowing down and pressing your nose to the bible, sniffing the whole line in a go. When you pulled back up and against the sofa, Abby saw the remains of the power on your nose. And even if she knew that she wouldn’t think it, she still found you unbelievably beautiful. “What is it pretty girl? Want to give it a try?” she quickly shook his head.

“No! I think that would be…, a sin.” that only made Ellie, the girls and you laugh. She looked so scared you almost felt bad.

“Come on, you’re not gonna tell me that you’ve never sinned, are you now?” she remained silent, making you frown. “Really?” Ellie chuckled beside you.

“Abby is a fucking saint. Never drank, never kissed… Never fucked.” Abby’s cheeks flushed red as she gave Ellie a death stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” your eyes were wide open. Well, as far as they’d go. You were starting to feel all fuzzy and tingly due to the coke and weed in your system. “A fucking virgin… And you are friends with Ellie Williams… Isn’t that funny?” the green eyed seemed hurt, mouth falling open. “With all respect, you are a whore.” her mouth only fell further open, what made you laugh. “You have at least rubbed one out, right?” once again she remained silent, eyes elsewhere and bottom lip in between her teeth. “Right?”

Ellie seemed interested too, as well as Dina and Lily.

“I can’t believe it.” you whispered when she didn’t correct you. Ellie was just as shocked.

“Oh my god…” Dina muttered.

In eighteen years. Not even a little rubbing?

“Jesus…” they all sighed at the same time, and Abby’s cheeks only reddened even more.

“Committing adultery is a sin, alright?” she groaned, too overwhelmed by the attention that was being poured on her. She felt like running away.

“You know what’s a real sin, Abby?” you said, making her stare at you. “Not having an orgasm ever. That’s a fucking sin.” she felt even the tips of her ears redden.

“I’ve—“

“Man, I know you and your father has always been super religious, but you don’t always have to follow some rules that were written centuries ago. If that makes you happy then that’s okay, but aren’t there a lot of things you’ve wanted to do that you couldn’t do due to that goddamn bible?” Ellie inquired, to what Abby nodded.

“I mean ye—“

“Then fuck it!” Dina said, snuggling closer her drunk girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. “Do whatever you want.”

“I can’t…”

“Oh yes you can, and you are gonna do it.” you smiled. “You can always ask for forgiveness, you know? Cry up a little bit at church tomorrow afternoon and say that some evil spirit got a hold on you or some shit like that. You wouldn’t be the first miscarried little sheep around here.” she stiffened when your hand fell on her knee, thumbs rubbing imaginary circles on her skin. She gulped, eyes on your pretty hand before you would lean in and grab her attention once again. “So…, what is it that you wanna do, pretty girl?” she was wicked. Under the spell of your gorgeous smile, reddened eyes and haunting face.

Your smile only grew more when her eyes fell to your red lips…

“Eyes up here, Abby.” you muttered, pointing to your eyes and making the rest of the group chuckle. Ellie sighed, knowing it was probably too late for Abby. You had that power of making people lose themselves into you. And Abby was absolutely lost.

“I… I don’t know…”

“Okay…” you hummed. “Why don’t we start off with something soft, hm?” you offered, and the brunette was the first to catch on, offering you a bottle of tequila that stood on the tea table along with a shot glass.

You poured just the perfect amount into it, grabbing another one for yourself along with limes and salt before leaving the bottle where it belonged.

“Okay. This is a shot of tequila. Of course, you could just give it a go dry, but I like to make it more interesting with this.” You pointed at the lime. She was the one who seemed interested now. “I’ll show you how to have one, then it’s your turn alright?” she nodded and you smiled as you poured a pinch of salt on the back of your palm. That twisting feeling in her stomach returned when your tongue slid through your palm and the the salt, all while keeping your eyes on her own. After that, the alcohol went down your throat as you bent your head slightly backwards, pouring after that the lime as your teeth sank in it. Your face scrunched up due to the sourness of it all, but still the people around you cheered for you as you slammed the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, smiling. “Did you get it?” you inquired the blonde, whose eyes seemed eager on you, probably due to the rush of adrenaline that went through her veins at the thought of trying something new and exciting. “Then go ahead pretty girl.” you poured salt once again on the back of your palm, handing it to her with a smirk. Her cheeks grew red at your actions, but despite that, she took a deep breath and dove in. All of you seemed surprised by her decisiveness. Your breath hitched when you felt her warm tongue on your skin, licking it clean of the salt before pulling away, and without giving it much thought —since she knew that if she did she’d repent— poured the liquor in her mouth, almost gagging as the tequila hit her tongue, what made her nose scrunch. The turn on her stomach and the burning of her throat was a new feeling, maybe not the best, but it was something new. And that excited her. She knew that drinking was not something forbidden, she had just been too scared of her dad’s disappointment if she ever tried it, so she never did. “So?” everyone stared at her, expecting to know her thought about her first time dealing with alcohol.

Abby coughed, squinting a little bit as her hoarse voice broke the silence. “It burns.”

All of you bursted out in laughter, she could have said anything, and yet she went with the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, it usually does.” Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “That’s the fun of it. Trying to see how much of it you can handle before passing out.” Abby seemed confused as she frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very amusing.”

“Oh, that’s because you aren’t mixing it with anything else...” you smiled. “Actually, you could use a little bit of weed.” Ellie was quick to pull a little bag from her pockets with a bright smile. Once on your fingers and opened, you groaned at the strong and sour smell. “Fuck, I’d eat you out right now if there weren’t so many people here.” Ellie chuckled at your words, and Abby only blushed, taken back by your language. There was a burn in her stomach that pleaded her to make you let out more of those little sounds out of your mouth. And maybe she should be scared, of feeling all of this for a girl. But somehow she wasn’t. She just needed to learn more. Know more. Feel more.

“I don’t think that…” she started, but you only looked at her and she was a goner, the words dying in her throat. Her best friend seemed pretty entertained by the situation. Abby the saint Anderson was finally giving in to having some fun, and it was all because of you. She didn’t know if she should be happy about it or be absolutely jealous.

On the other hand, Abby was absolutely haunted, haunted by your fingers dealing with the drug, rolling up the blunt and your tongue sneaking in between your lips to lick it seal. She felt that tingling on her pussy, although she tried to soothe it off by going over the Genesis.

“Done.“ you smiled, and Dina handed you her lighter so you could light the blunt up.

Abby looked closely as your lips wrapped around the joint and how your cheeks hollowed as you took a hit. You let out a pleased sigh when the smoke filled your lungs. “Fuck.” you loved it. The high, the dizziness, the numbing of your limbs. “Williams, let me marry you. I’ll make a good wife, I promise.” she let out a laughter as she reached out for the blunt, which you obviously handed her.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know I love you, but you’d be too much for me to handle.” you fakely pouted when the blunt was back on your hands.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyways.” you shrugged, taking another hit with a playful smile. “You are not my type...” Abby’s breath hitched when your eyes found hers. “What do you say pretty girl? Are you in?” you offered her the blunt, and after a little hesitation, her fingers stole it from yours. You noticed that she had beautiful hands, soft, with large and thick fingers that would surely look better pushing inside your…

“How should I…?” she seemed scared of it, holding it away from her as if it were a deadly weapon. And maybe it was.

“Right. A saint. Probably haven’t even smoked a cigarette.” you said, scooting closed to her ‘till your thigh was flushed against hers, fingers around her wrist to guide the joint to her lips. She felt her heart skip a beat when her eyes fell to your chest, which stood dangerously close to her own. “Okay. So you put it on your lips and then you suck, but don’t just leave the smoke in your mouth, it has to fill your lungs, so as you suck you need to inhale as deep as you can. If your throat burns, then that means you are doing it okay.” she was following your words and doing as you told her. “But don’t do it too hard or you’ll…” but maybe she was going too fast, since she started to choke on the smoke. “Choke.” you were quick to give her back pats.

“Are you okay?” Lily inquired her, handing her a cup of alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t the best option to go for, since alcohol and weed actually were a strong combination for a beginner, but it was the only thing around.

“Aw she’s fine…” Dina laughed. “You aren’t a beginner if you don’t choke on your first hit.”

“On god.” Ellie teasingly said, sending a kiss to the sky.

She shivered when your fingers dug in her hair, comforting her as her coughing ceased. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” she nodded, too lost on the feeling of your touch. “Wanna try again?” she looked at you as if you were crazy, what made you let out a laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, here, let me help you.” you urged her, taking the blunt from her hand and raising it to your lips to take a deep hit. Her breath hitched when the hand that stood in her hair pushed her near your face. Her eyes widened and her pulse spiked up when your breath hit her own, the weed and alcohol on it making her feel dizzy. Or maybe the fact that your lips were mere inches away from hers was. She really couldn’t know.

Neither of you noticed the way your friends were staring at the two of you.

The hand that held the joint went to her cheek, thumb pressing against her bottom lip as you pulled from it. “Open.” she was quick to do what you’ve asked her to. “Now breathe in for me, will you?” she nodded, and as you blew the smoke on her lips, she took it in. The burning was still there, in the back of her throat, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the first time. You pulled away with a satisfied smile on your lips, seeing her hold her breath as much as she could —like she had seen you do—. “Good girl.” she almost whined at you words, not understanding why they had had such a great impact on her. There was something in the way you’ve said it that made her shake in your hands. “Now, that wasn’t that bad, was it?” she shook her head, fighting the urge to lean on your touch, on the fingers that now massaged her scalp after a third hit from your lips.

“Woah, are we… Interrupting something here?” Dina was the first to break the silence, making Lily and Ellie laugh.

“The room suddenly feels too hot…” the auburn haired said, fanning her face and making your eyes practically send her daggers. “Just saying…” she rose her hands in surrender.

Abby was feeling her limbs tingle as the clock ticked, eyelids heavy and and mind fuzzy. You seemed to notice. “You okay, pretty girl?” she looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Feels amazing.” she muttered, and all of you laughed at her reaction.

“Ellie, I think we’ve just created a monster.” you mocked her, but she just seemed happy to see her best friend so relaxed, and having fun.

She was about to answer you, but suddenly the girls that had asked her about having some crystal before peeked through the closed door. She understood what they had come looking for just by taking a look at them. She tapped the arms of the sofa before standing up, grabbing the attention of the group.

“Ladies, I need to go and make some business.” she announced with a smirk. “Do you mind if I leave Abby with you for a little bit?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you could Lily and Dina were standing up.

“Yeah, we’re gonna— Lily needs to— Bathroom.” she simply said before she could grab the curly haired’s hand, her lips on her neck as they left the room, Ellie right behind.

It was then when you realized that only you and Abby were left behind. Alone. She seemed to realize too, since her body seemed to stiffen up

“Well, I guess we’re alone now, pretty girl.” you said, taking another hit of the blunt. You were probably overdoing it already, but you knew you could handle it. She nodded, trying not to show the way her hands were shaking. It was a really strange combination of feelings really: She was high. She was excited about her first party. She was nervous about being near someone as pretty as you… “What are you thinking about, hm? What’s going on inside that little head of yours?” Oh, and she was completely caught up in the way that your fingers kept brushing though her hair, in the way your eyes never left her.

“Nothing.” she sputtered out, what made you smile. You scooted a little bit closer, getting on your side so you could face her.

“Tell me, Abby…” you started. “What other things are there that you would like to do?” you bit your bottom lip, the fingers on her hair sliding down to her neck, where you connected the moles on her skin. Her eyes were on your red lips, on your chest, on your thighs… God, she felt impure.

“I… Uhm…” you decided to give her a little extra push, your chest almost brushing against hers as you leaned in, blowing the smoke on her face. She was taken aback, feeling the heat of your body against her making her pussy throb on her pants. She looked away from you, cheeks red and mind fuzzy, although her eyes found their way back to you when your palm pressed against her cheek, leading her back to you.

“Where are you looking at, hm? Eyes on me, Abby…” you muttered, your breath colliding with her own as you leaned in. “How pretty…” you muttered, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, pulling, getting a shaky breath as an answer. “Such a pretty face and yet no one has ever kissed you before? What a waste…” You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the way the blonde stared at you, expecting doe eyes, lingering blue shining above the red… “Such a pretty pretty girl.” she whined as your lips brushed against hers, teasing her, pulling her in to the sin she had learned to avoid. The sin she had made herself avoid.

“y/n…” she let out a short breath, hoarse voice only a whisper as she leaned in ever further, trying to pursue the plump of your lips and the electrifying feeling that shook her body anytime you were near.

“What is it, hm?” you smirked, and she whined when you pulled from her hair to keep her from getting any closer. “Want me to kiss you Abby?” you inquired. You liked the girl, you wanted the girl, and you were selfish about what you wanted, but you were no monster.

She nodded, tongue sneaking in between her lips to dampen them before they’d fall apart in a plead. “Please…”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head and making her cry out. “Nuh-uh… You can do better than that, baby. Use your words. Let me hear you ask for it.” she whimpered, eyes on your red lips as her own cheeks flushed, probably due to embarrassment, or the alcohol that travelled through her veins, or the fact that she wanted it, you, so bad she felt like dying…

“Please, kiss me…” she whispered, almost inaudible under the music playing from the party. “Please…” and when her eyes met yours, when you saw that linger in the blue of them, the need… You were quick to pull her in, leaving the blunt aside as your lips met hers. God, you’d been wanting to do that since she had stepped in the room. Your core ached when she moaned in your mouth, her hands shaking at her sides as her eyes squeezed shut, what made you laugh as you pulled away, shaking your head. You quickly threw one of your legs over her lap, straddling her muscled thighs and making her eyes widen, muscles incredible stiff below you. “Come on, Abby, why don’t you relax on me a little?” you left a couple of wet kisses on her neck, making her sigh under your touch and letting your hands guide hers to your ass. “You can touch me, I don’t bite.” you amusedly said, teasing her before you would lean in once again to meet her lips, nor before a “Unless you want me to…” she was shaking when you kissed her again, breath hitching and a moan leaving her lips when you started to rock your hips against her. She was already wet. So wet… “Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you muttered against her mouth, your thumb pulling on her bottom lip. She did as you said, what made you smile. “Yeah, just like that, good girl…” she moaned when your tongue slid right inside her mouth, swirling around hers. Her fingers dug on your ass, making you hum into the kiss as you pulled on her hair. Her jaw fell slack as you ground a little bit harder against the crotch of her pants and against her aching cunt, which throbbed.

When you pulled away, her glasses had fogged up due to your wet kisses.

“y/n…” she whimpered as your lips trailed down her throat, harshly sucking hickeys on her skin and hands bucking you against her. She felt dizzy, high in a drug under your name, delirious even. This felt so good, you on top of her, dry humping her, kissing her… She never wanted it to stop.

“Shit… That’s it.” you said, getting off her lap —hearing a whine fall from her lips— and pulling from her hand so she could get up. “Let’s go.” you were fast to leave the stoner room and start to drag her upstairs, getting her in in the first empty room you could find and locking the door behind your back before you’d kiss her again. Seeing your lipstick all smeared on her lips made you want to devour her.

She opened her mouth for you, just like you had taught her, stumbling backwards in between groans as you led her towards the bed. She let out a surprised gasp when you pushed her on the chest, making her sit down. “What… What are you doing?” she inquired you as you kneeled in front of her, breathing strained and lips swollen. Her blonde hair was all messed up, as well as her clothes, and her pussy hurt so much under her pants she couldn’t help but wish you were back kissing her, rubbing against her and making it better. She was high, and needy, and the sight of you down on your knees with your hands brushing her thighs was absolutely not making the pain go away any time soon.

“Praying.” you smiled at her as you unbuckled her pants and pushed them down her thighs along with her underwear, your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“W-Wait!” she tried to stop you, overwhelmed by being so exposed in front of you, but all that embarrassment left her mind when you pushed her legs apart and left a little peck on her clit. Her pussy was pretty, blonde mound and pinkish dripping folds soaked for you. You smiled when she let out a load moan at the fat strip you made up her pussy, taking in all her slick, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing at her moans and whines.

“Such a pretty girl with a pretty pussy...” she whimpered when you licked clean her arousal off her slit. “Does that feel good, hm? Like my tongue?” she nodded, eyes squeezed shut when you gave it a long stripe from her hole to her clit before sucking it inside your mouth. You moaned against her, ‘cause she tasted so good… And you wanted to fuck your face on her pussy so bad that it had you thrusting your hips down on your heels to look for some relief.

“Oh, God… Ohgodohgodohgod…” you chuckled as you let her go with a pop, spitting on your hand before your fingers would circle her entrance, making her thighs clench and a moan leave her lips.

“No God here, baby, ‘s just me.” she whimpered when your mouth went back to her, slowly pushing one finger into her tight walls. Her fingers unconsciously laced on your hair, making you hum against her clit and her whine. She felt like chocking with her spit. She has never felt something like this. How could this feel so good? This was supposed to be a sin. She was supposed to be taken away by Satan to hell and burn for the eternity. And yet there she was, feeling like stepping in Heaven.

She seemed extremely sensitive on her clit, where you teased her with your tongue, making her moan and whimper as you curled your finger against her g spot. There was this pressure, this heat building up in her lower stomach that made her head feel all fuzzy and her limbs weak as you pushed your ring finger inside.

“y/n…” she whined, her pussy throbbing around your fingers and fully leaking. You could feel she was about to cum, and its speed and her poor stamina only made her cuter.

“Poor baby… Is it too much? Is my mouth too much for you, hm? Want me to stop?” you inquired her, entertained by her slack jaw and glossed over eyes. She was gone. Completely dumbified. You’d love to see how she’d react once she was thrusting against you, maybe fucking into you with a fake cock… You were dripping down your thighs at the thought of it.

She shook her head, the hand on your hair only tightening. “No! Please, don’t stop, please? Pleasepleaseplease…” she begged, moaning loudly when you went back to fucking her g spot. “Feels so good, so good, please…” she was a babbling mess, unable to think, desperate to reach something that she was stumbling towards, something new, something unknown…

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my mouth? Gonna give me your first orgasm, hm?” her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she saw you stuck your tongue out, drool falling onto her pussy and clit and connecting it to your mouth through a string of spit. She was sure that you were a succubus, a devil in disguise that had come to haunt her and led her away from God. And honestly? She’d let you do it. ‘Cause just how beautiful you looked with her clit in your mouth, the sight of your glossed and red eyes staring up at her as you sucked her clean with all your red lipstick smeared all over her pussy and folds… Fuck. Simply… Fuck. She was so close to reaching that feverish feeling that had her shaking on her spot that she started to moan and whimper more loudly.

“Please, please, please…” she didn’t even know what she was begging for, her strained pleading making you start to lap at her faster, sucking on her clit harder. “Oh god, something’s gonna… I’m gonna…” she was a whimpering mess, eyes watering to the overwhelming sensation of her first orgasm, which was about to crumble her to pieces.

“Come on pretty girl, let go for me. Let me have it, hm? Let me taste you.” you said before kitten licking her clit, fucking her with your fingers. That’s all it took for her to fill your mouth up. Her orgasm hit her like a wave. So hard she was gasping for air, as if she were drowning under water. Her sight went completely white, mind blank and ears ringing as her body relaxed under your touch. When she came back from it, you were cleaning her up with your tongue, swallowing her warm cum and caressing her thighs in comfort. You hummed at the taste, sucking your fingers clean. “You okay, baby?” you inquired her as her eyes fluttered open, glossy and teary, pupils fully blown. She shivered when your lips latched to the skin of her hip bone, sucking hardly enough to leave a bruise, making her fingers lace harder in your hair.

“y/n…” she whimpered, feeling how your lips slowly trailed up her lower stomach, your hands getting rid of the buttons of her shirt as you sat back down on her lap. You were starting to believe it to be your favorite seat ever.

“Did that felt good baby?” you smirked, loving the fucked out look on her face and her dizzy nodding. “Look at you, so fucked out you can’t even speak. You liked cumming in my mouth, huh?” you teased her, making her moan as your hands sneaked up her unbuttoned shirt. “Want a taste?” you whispered on her ear, nibbling on her jaw and making her gasp, her pussy was already getting wet again. So eager… “Open up for me.” you whispered against her lips when she nodded. And she did. In a heartbeat.

Your tongue was quick to push inside her mouth, both of your moaning in the kiss as your hips rocked harder against her own. She was shaking when you pushed her hands from your waist to your breasts, she groaned when you squeezed hers to make a domino effect and urge her to touch you just how she wanted. “Tell me Abby, what is it that you want?” you inquired her as your breaths mixed, sucking on her bottom lip. Her eyes squeezed shut when you went back to sucking on her neck. “What do you want to do now?”

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” she breathed out, glossy brown eyes full of lust when staring into your own. She wanted to make you feel the way you had made her feel, better, if that could be possible…

You smiled at her words. “Oh yeah?” you bit your bottom lip brushing her messy hair backwards and playfully tugging on it, making her take a shaky breath as she nodded. “You wanna make me feel good, Abby?” her skin grew on goosebumps when you guided one of her hands down your body, ‘till her fingertips got lost underneath your dress and in between your legs. You moaned when her palm cupped your clothed cunt. She felt her heart skip a beat when you started to rock your hips against it. “Gonna let me teach you?” she nodded once again as you pushed your dress over your head, tongue coming out to lick her lips, eager to pull out of you more of those beautiful sounds. “Good girl…” you couldn’t know if she had moaned due to the amount of beautiful and flushed skin on display just for her or for your praise, but, at the moment, it truly didn’t matter, not when she stared at you like that.

She felt like fainting when she felt you, underneath the lace of your panties, her fingertips against your soaked cunt, so soaked you dripped on her fingers. “There.” you whined when you pushed her hand upwards, ‘till her fingertips bumped against that little bundle of nerves that could make you cum over and over again with just a little bit of stimulation. “Fuck, move your fingers around it, baby.” you instructed, moaning when she did, what only made her crave you more. “Yeah just like that.” you rocked your hips against her touch, pressing open mouthed kisses on her chest. “Now use your fingers. Inside.” you muttered on her neck when you pushed her hand down towards your hole. “Inside, please.”

Abby was lost. Lost in the new experience, in the new knowledge, but most of all, lost in the way your eyebrows knitted together when she first touched you under your underwear, or the way your mouth was falling open now that one of her fingers was fully inside of you, up to the knuckle. And Abby knew she was a goner when she found herself swearing. And she didn’t fucking swore. “Fuck.”

You were clamping around her finger when you pulled her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around each other as she started to pump in and out of you, making you moan and push on her touch. “Another one. Put in another one, please Abby.” you gasped out, and she followed, willing to do anything for you, anything as well as you kept moaning, and kissing her, and begging her for more, and… “Fuck, just like that…” you cried out.

Her pussy was throbbing like crazy, leaking in between her thighs as she took in just how… Heavenly you looked. On your black lace underwear, smeared red lipstick, messy hair, glossy eyes… You looked like an angel, no, like a god.

A god she would die to worship.

And she surely felt like cumming when her fingers slightly curved and hit that spot inside you that pulled out a whimper from your mouth. She wanted more. More of you falling apart. So she curved them once again, and again, and… But before she could know it, she found herself being pushed and laying on her back. “Wh—What?” she tried and ask. Had she done something wrong? If she had… But her voice died out when you were taking off your bra, and she felt like choking. They were perfect — it’s not like she had ever seen tits before, but if she had she would have thought the same—. They looked so soft… And your nipples, erect from lust… She just wanted to suck and bite on them.

She moaned when you rocked against her hips, the lace of your panties rubbing against her thigh. “y/n… Shit.” she could feel the dampness on the cloth, the heartbeat of your pussy against her.

“Too much, pretty girl?” you smirked, grabbing her wrists to lead her hands towards your breasts. Her big hands made you sigh when her fingers felt the plump of them, thumbs rolling your nipples…

“y/n…” she breathed out when you leaned in to kiss her neck and chest over her bra, marking her all up as she whimpered below you, loosing herself on the way your hips thrusted against her, your lips on her skin, your warm own in between her fingers… On the way your bare cunt felt against her skin once you’ve gotten rid of your panties, slick coating her skin as you slid against her. The two of you moaned before you could find yourself to hum in answer, eyes meeting her glossy and dazed ones. “More…” she whimpered, needing more, more of you. She noticed the hesitation in your eyes before her lips parted once again, “Please…” her hips thrusting upwards against your core, making you groan.

“So pretty begging…” you muttered before kissing her so deep and wet that she was left shivering.“You want to fuck me, hm? Want to fuck me, Abby?” you teased, pressing down against her and making her moan as she nodded. You moved in between her thighs sliding your fingers in between her lips.

“Yes, yes, yes… Pleasepleaseplease… Can I fuck you? Please, y/n, oh please. Let me fuck you, please…” tears swelled her eyes at the feeling of your pussy lining up with hers, mound barely touching, pressing down, teasing her with every false thrust of your hips. She needed to make you cum, needed you…

“How can I say no if you ask so nicely, hm?” you whispered against her lips before you’d push one of your thighs on her lap to push yourself against her, moaning at the feeling. It felt so painfully good you found yourself sinking your nails on her abs, moaning. “Shit, so wet…”

“Fuck.” she breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you felt so warm, so wet… Her fingers dug on your hips to keep you still when your clits met. By the way she was throbbing against you and how her breath sounded strained, you knew she was trying her best to not cum. So you waited it out, both of you did. A moan left her lips when your started to slightly grind against her, you biting down on your lip as she whimpered. “y/n…”

You slowly rose ‘till only your lips touched before slamming your hips back down onto her heat, moaning when your clits met and hearing her groan. “You like that, pretty girl? Your virgin pussy seems to, dripping like crazy for me.” you teased her, chuckling slightly when she nodded —too pussy drunk already— before starting to fuck yourself against her like the two of you needed.

And as your pace quickened, the more moans, pants and whines left both your lips.

“Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgi—“ she was a babbling mess as she watched you thrust against her sopping cunt —incoherent, moaning and whimpering, words becoming lost—, the sound of your juices filling the room along with the slapping of sweaty skin. You chuckled at her messed up appearance and crooked glasses.

“He can’t listen to you now, baby. Your moans suffocate it.” you smirked when she let out a whimper as you fucked her harder, kissing her neck and biting down on the skin. It was all so overwhelming… Your velvet lips leaving red stains all over her body, the prettiest tits bouncing up and down with every thrust, your soft moans and sighs of pleasure against her ear, the way you ground your puffy clit on hers, the way your warm and soaked pussy slid against hers… It was too much, too much that the blonde could feel tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks.

It surely was too much, but at the same time not enough.

She whined when you pushed yourself up and away, flopping on your elbows in front of her under her confused gaze. You gave her a playful smile before parting your legs, letting your pulsing wet hole show only for her. Her dilated pupils latched onto it, not letting go as one of your hands came to it to spread your sticky lips. She felt her mouth water, gulping loudly. “Why don’t you come fuck me like you’ve been wanting since this afternoon, hm? Don’t need to be a good girl with me, Abby.” she was quick to sit up and crawl her way over to you, enchanted by your sweet voice as if some enchantment had fogged her mind. She was even quicker to discard her glasses aside, unable to see no longer through the glass.

You gasped for air when she pushed in between your legs, and before you knew it, he was pushing her pussy against you in a quick and harsh thrust, making you grip and sink your nails on her broad shoulder blades as she started to relentlessly fuck you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you moaned on her ear. “That’s it, shit.” you cursed in between heavy breaths, hearing her grunt.

She was hard, fast and needy, now being you the mumbling mess as you tugged on her hair and her lips sucked on your tits, biting your nipples and bruising the skin of your neck and chest, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere, kneading your soft skin as she moaned against it. “Fuck Abby, that’s it, baby…” your body was buried and shook on the sheets with every new thrust, sliding up and down the duvet. She was fucking the brains out of you.

You gasped for air when one of her hands gripped your neck, pinning you to the bed as her hips harshly clashed against yours. You smirked when she groaned at your wetness, the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers. “I knew you had it in you. Not that of a good girl anymore, huh?” she whined when your fingers tugged harder on her hair, hips staggering at the pleasure as her eyes squeezed shut. She was in a daze. “You like that pretty girl?” you teased, moaning when her grip around your neck tightened and she gave you a extremely harsh thrust that pressed just on the right spot, making your thighs shake and a needy and loud moan leave your lips, crying out for her to fuck you harder, to fuck you just like that.

You could feel the coil on your lower stomach, every new hit on your clit making you get closer and closer to that high and making your walls clench. “Shit, y/n…” her lips parted in a whimper, her hand leaving your neck to take a hold on your hips and seek more of those pretty moans of yours… She dragged you against her pussy with every push of her hips, pulling from you to reach your highs.

“Abby i’m close, fuck, i’m so close baby, gonna cum all over your pussy, shit.” you were choking on your words.

Your moans got muffled when she kissed you, her tongue pushing inside your mouth as her thrusts lost their rhythm, too close to cumming on your sopping cunt. “y/n, y/n, y/n…” she could feel yourself throbbing against her, your orgasm approaching right beside hers. She wouldn’t last, you knew that. “fuck, ah, y/n I’m gonna…, I’m—“

One of your hands came up to her face, your thumb pressing against her bottom lip as she rested her forehead against yours, her breath fanning over your face. “Cum on me, please Abby, please…” you breathed out, eager, begging, gone. Her eyebrows knitted together as her lips fell on a moan, pussy throbbing as she thrusted against you one, two, three more times before painting your folds in white, making you moan at the feeling. Droplets of her cum were falling on your thighs and the sheets every new thrust, whimpering due to the stimulation but still eager to make you come, to make you feel good.

“Oh shitshitshitshit…” you muttered, your hips following hers as you felt yourself seconds away from your own release.

“Cum for me, y/n, please? Please, y/n, please…” she begged, driving you over the edge and making you cum so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

She groaned when she felt your cum mixing with her own, coating her pussy.

The two of you stayed still as you came down from your highs. You were sticky with cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away, and she didn’t seem to despise the idea of holding you for a little longer.

Now Abby understood. She finally understood how even a creature as perfect as Lucifer couldn’t had helped falling to the deep depths of hell. All it took was the perfect sin, the perfect poison.

And Abby was sure to had found hers in you.

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