#I’ve been so busy that I’ve had to basically try to pick here and there what to respond to

[arcxnumvitae]

I FORGOT TO WRITE THE END OF THE TOURNAMENET

[rhysazriel]

Only Angel [Mafia!Azriel]

SUMMARY: Azriel's a dangerous Mafia leader, Y/N is his favourite dancer at his strip club. His usual Friday night dance turns into something a little more. (6.2k)

WARNINGS: mentions of the mafia and illegal activities, kissing, teasing, swearing, smut; dirty talk, sexual intercourse, spanking, fingering, lap dance.

A/N: This is a rewrite of a very old fic from an old fandom I was in. I’ve edited it the best I can to fit around Azriel’s character, so I apologise in advance if anything appears out of place :) 

Azriel owns a lot of businesses. From stores to hotels, to apartments to clubs. To many, he's a man of business, a man of money. To those aware of the world around them, he's a man of the mafia. Powerful and dangerous. Maybe that's what caught her eye all that time ago, the mysterious aura that bubbled around him.

Y/N's been a dancer at his club since it opened three years ago. It started as a joke between her friends. She was fresh in college and desperately needed a part-time job to pay her bills after she was laid off from the bakery she'd been working at. Callie had mentioned a new strip joint opening on the outskirts of Prythian, that it was a more underground, elite sort of club.

Y/N had laughed it off, joking that she'd look into it and then didn't think of it anymore. But after two weeks of job hunting and no luck, she found herself bumping into a group of young women in a restroom at a bar, and somehow snagged herself an interview at said club.

Eria Vanserra, manager of the club, had hired her the second she opened her mouth and her pretty little voice spoke her name. Y/N was attractive, there was absolutely no doubt in that. She had that look of pure innocence in her eyes, but her lips were wicked. 

The girls had trained her up, taught her the basics on the pole. She's grown close to them, thinks of them as her sisters more than colleagues. They're a team, have each other's backs when new customers try to take advantage and hype each other up for when the regular 60-year-olds come in and request private sessions. 

Y/N -- or rather Angel -- only offers private sessions for one customer: The Boss. They met just over a year into her employment, and it was on their first greeting that Azriel took an instant liking to the devilish dancer, and she took the same approach with him. 

Y/N's been teased for it relentlessly; snickers made from a few of the girls that didn't like how much Azriel liked her, but she didn't care then, and she doesn't care now. Not when every other Friday night, he has her booked for an intimate performance in the back room -- the room that's only ever reserved by him. 

It's been a long week. Classes were cancelled due to some ongoing investigation with one of Y/N's professors, and so she's been able to pick up shifts every night at the club. Shadow's is an elite place, and Y/N knows it. It's a home for the best dancers and the richest of men that sneak off to get their fix. 

It's not a brothel -- at least, not primarily. And none of the girls is ever forced into anything they don't want to do. That's one of the first things Eris made very clear. 

You're here to dance. Private sessions are your own choice, and anything that goes on behind closed curtains is your decision. If you want to offer extra services, the club doesn't touch that money.

Y/N's never been one to stray from the pole. She knows her strengths, and she knows her weaknesses. She's strong, it's obvious, but even the strongest of dancers find it unsettling to be behind a closed curtain with a strange man that clearly can't get much outside of what his money can buy.

The thought unsettles her, but she's never let her own discomfort project on the other girls that spend hours in private rooms with a different man every twenty minutes. They're the real talent, she thinks. Inspiring and badass, and Y/N wishes she had that extra ounce of confidence that they do.

Or at least, she used to wish so. Before she met Azriel -- before he started watching her whenever he stopped by. For two years, she's the only dancer his honey eyes have watched, and something about that knowledge gives Y/N all the confidence she thinks she'll ever need.

Because she's the one that gets under the mafia leaders' skin. His eyes are always on Y/N. She's the one that occupies his mind and tightens his pants from her presence on the pole. It wasn't until almost five months ago that Azriel made a move to ask for a private dance. 

He's done it before, many times. He's had his dick sucked more than he can remember behind those red curtains, but never by a woman as captivating and as talented as her -- his Angel. 

Azriel still remembers the first time he laid eyes on her, upon that risen stage with soft lights offering a halo effect on her silhouette. He saw her hips first, her long legs as she wrapped them around the poll and jutted her ass out deliciously. Then he saw her face -- those angelic eyes and sinful lips, and he knew he was fucked.

He remembers pulling Eris to the side, eyes still on her as he asked who the fuck she was, and why someone so beautiful was working for him. Remembers the way Eris told him her stage name, how it had his cock springing to life in appreciation for the way she moved. 

It all seems like a lifetime ago when he thinks back to it. And while there have been plenty of Friday nights that he frequents the club, he's yet to take things outside of the red room. 

And it's not that he doesn't want to, because he does -- more than he wants a lot of things. But Azriel is a man of honour (even in his line of work), and he's never been one to pressure a woman into something he wants. 

But Angel isn't like any woman. Not to him. 

Azriel deems she's by far the most precious thing he's ever laid eyes on, and he has a need to hold and protect her and show her just how a woman like herself deserves to be treated. 

He could give her the world, and they both know it. 

Tonight is like every other late Friday evening. Y/N's dolled up to the nines as she reapplies her lipstick. She's been at the club since seven, and three dances later and a round of waitressing, it's nearing midnight. Y/N's ready to go to bed. 

She's ready to call it a night, to tell Eris she's heading out early after picking up so many shifts in the week. Not only because she's tired, but also, Azriel hasn't shown up yet, and he's never come this late before. 

Just as Y/N is adjusting her bra straps, she sees Mor’s head pop out through the corner of the door through the mirror. The blonde has a wide grin on her face, and she knows exactly what that suggests. 

"He's here."

Y/N rolls her eyes. "He's also late. My shift ends in ten minutes."

Mor pouts out her lips, shaking her head, and her breasts bounce slightly on her covered chest. "But he's asking for you. And stop pretending like it's such a burden. You love when he shows up, and he loves when you dance for him. We all know it. Quit acting like you don't secretly enjoy it." She bites back, stomping her foot to make her point and Y/N spins in her chair to look at her full on.

Mor raises her brows. "All the other girls would kill to dance for him, to have him ask for them. Myself included. Stop acting like a brat and put on a fucking show."

Y/N isn't given a chance to reply because Mor is sauntering out of the dressing room, and she's left alone to swiftly get ready. She pretends to ignore the rampaging butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing him again. 

She's never scared, could never be. Y/N knows Azriel would never hurt her. But, she's nervous. Azriel always gives Y/N his undivided attention when she's dancing for him, and it's intimidating and exciting all at once. His eyes are so dark and calculated, and he's always so damn respectful when she sits on his lap­ -- never wanting to make her uncomfortable. 

Sometimes, Y/N just wants him to take charge. Even knowing exactly what he's capable of, she wants him to take her. Ravish her. Have his way with her. She wants him to completely dominate her, and often, Y/N finds herself wondering what would happen if she riled him up enough to get him to that state. 

If she acted like a brat, would he throw her over his lap and spank her?

If she talked back, would he pull her hair or spit in her mouth?

If she asked for him to touch her, would he grip her ass and kiss her neck?

Y/N's mind swirls with the unanswered questions every time she sees him, and it's getting a bit much to keep to herself. She's getting tired of being a little plaything to him –- not that she has the right to be upset, but she is. 

She doesn't like that he only comes to her every Friday night. To the club. Is she not worth more than two hours a week? 

Then spirals the anxiety.

Is he only coming to her because he thinks she's easy? Is he doing it because he knows he'll never have to do anything more than let her dance? Is he doing it out of pity? Because he thinks she's lonely, so it's to make her feel special? 

Is Azriel even attracted to her, or does he just do it for shits and giggles? Does he go back to his brothers and his men and laugh about her? At her? Is it all a bit of fun to him?

Y/N gets too in her head, and then the idea of seeing him again is revolting. She doesn't know him -- she can't say whether her thoughts are crazy or valid. She doesn't know the kind of person he really is -- despite the rumours. 

But though she goes through these motions, Y/N pushes them to the back of her head and gets on with it. She puts on her smile, and she dances. 

Azriel tends to book her out for an hour at a time, sometimes two hours if he's feeling extra needy or he has the time. And he's generous with his money, too. Typically, he pays double for her time, which is a month's rent for Y/N but pocket change for him.

It makes her feel dirty, but she has to remind herself that actually, this is her job and he does have the money and means to pay for her time.

That's all he's doing -- paying for her time. For her. Like some sort of cheap and easy prostitute that he can go to whenever he needs a fix. And she never touches him (not under his clothes), but it still makes her feel dirty.

Y/N knows what the other girls do in the private rooms; the type of shows that they offer. She doesn't judge them, she could never. They're all in the same or similar boats: broke and trying to make a living, to make ends meet. But none of them dance for the owner. None of them are ever requested by him. 

Y/N takes a deep breath and composes herself. She can't look in the mirror for a moment longer because if she does, she'll start seeing every flaw she has, and she'll never leave the damn dressing room. 

The club is busy, it always is on a Friday night. There's a party in the upper left tier, a few dancers that have been hired for the night and Y/N is more than pleased that she wasn't booked for it. It's a bunch of frat boys celebrating one of their friend's birthdays, and from Y/N's place on the lower deck, she can already recognise a few familiar faces from her classes.

The last thing she needs is for people to know she's an erotic dancer at one of the most elite, secret clubs. 

She doesn't bother questioning how the younger men know about the place. 

Y/N makes her way toward the private booths, and the one to the far right has its curtains closed. She takes a deep breath, knows he's sitting behind it, waiting for her.

She doesn't give herself any time to hype herself up or change her mind, because she's pushing through the red velvet curtain and closing it behind her. 

The booths are all the same. Dim lighting and velvet cushioned seats. The walls are deep, silky pink, the furniture all an intoxicating shade of red, and in the centre of the rounded chair, Azriel sits. 

His legs are spread wide, dressed to the nines in a slick black suit, and his bulging arms are outstretched across the back of the chair. 

He's shed his blazer, has it hanging on the side, his shirt sleeves folded up to his elbows, swirls of black ink coating his dark complexion. Everything about his attire screams power and sex, and Y/N hasn't even looked at his face yet. 

"There’s my pretty girl."

Her eyes dart up, his lips are parted. There's a knowing smirk on his pink mouth, and Azriel's eyes are a glimmering caramel under the dim light. Y/N thinks he's never looked more handsome, but that's always her thought whenever she sees him.

She can't help the contagiously shy smile that tugs on the corners of her plump lips. 

"Little late tonight," she mentions quietly. 

He doesn't say anything, and his eyes are too busy taking in her appearance. He hasn't seen this outfit before; a lilac cami bodysuit, entirely of lace. The chest of it is plunged yet lifted, and her supple breasts look the most inviting they've ever been.

Azriel struggles to wrap his head around the sight of her -- he always does. Always thinks she looks even prettier every time he sees her.

Azriel finally shrugs his shoulders. "I'm a busy man, Angel. Thought you knew that by now." He doesn't take his eyes off her, he can't.

Completely fucking mesmerised.

Y/N shrugs. "Must've been extra busy to be this late." She tells him.

Y/N is making her way closer, her hips swaying with every small step and Azriel's sure he can feel his cock twitch in his pants from anticipation.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to come."

He raises a brow as she settles herself in his lap, his scarred hands–that she’s never shown any distaste to–slowly yet respectfully finding her waist.

"Oh, I always come, baby."

She knows there's a double meaning to his statement — can tell by the smirk on his lips and the tone of his voice. Always a smooth talker.

Y/N decides that if he can play, so can she. 

"I wouldn't know."

Azriel's the one to stop her hips from moving on top of his, and he chases her gaze to lock eyes. She's deadpanning -- void of emotion on her pretty little face and Azriel thinks this newfound side of her is the sexiest thing he's witnessed in a long time.

He cocks a brow. "Playing like that tonight, are we?" He asks, his thumbs pressing into the fleshy skin of her side.

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, plays coy. "I don't know. Are we?"

She twists the question, unsure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but she isn't about to back down from it, from him.

She wants more than just a lap dance. She thinks Azriel does too.

Azriel stays quiet for a moment or two like he's toying with the idea of having his way with her -- of letting her have him.

He squints and tries to look for an ounce of uncertainty or hesitancy. He comes empty, finding nothing short of confidence and desire. But has she thought it all through?

Has she thought about what this could mean? Has she accepted the fact that they may never see each other again -- something so silly because Azriel quite likes the girl, but if he kisses her, touches her -- what if it inherently puts her in danger?

She senses his dismay and offers an ultimatum; one that she knows she'll win. 

"Because either we are, or you need to find a new dancer."  

The threat awakens something in him. Something primal — animalistic. His eyes flash, darker and darker until his swelling pupils almost completely drown out the honey in his eyes.

His grip on her hips tighten, and Azriel forces her closer; lace-clad chest bumping against his clothed one. "I don't want a new dancer." He tells her. His voice is firm, tone even and stable. He knows what he wants, and now, she knows it's her.

Y/N lets her fingers reach for the longer curls on the nape of his neck. She intertwines her fingers around them, generously tugging, so his head pulls back just enough for her to use her other hand to grip his chin. Azriel's lips are parted, eyes hooded. He can feel her breath fan across his face as she brings hers closer.

"But that's all I am to you, right? Just a dancer?"

He isn't sure what she's doing -- whether she's fishing for something more or if she's about to walk out of the booth and leave him panting and painfully hard.

He plays into it, though. Let's see where this is going.

"More than just a dancer, baby." He promises.

Y/N ghosts her plump lips over his. "Yeah?" She breathes, her voice an airy whisper and Azriels got the perfect fucking sight of her cleavage. Reckons he wants nothing more than to bury his face between her pert tits.

He nods. "Mhm, you're my Angel." He tells her.

Azriel's hands reach around for her ass, grabbing handfuls and pulling her cheeks taut. He removes his hand and strikes it back down on her warm, fleshy skin. Y/N jolts into his body, teeth gnawing painfully on her lower lip to bite back her desperate pleads and whines.

Azriel gropes her again, massaging her cheeks and grabbing fistfuls. "My Angel."

His. She's all fucking his.

Her breathing is laboured as she takes in his words. Y/N tries not to let him see how riled up they make her, but she knows Azriel can see straight through any facade she tries to hide behind.

"Well, if I'm an angel, that must make you the devil."

Y/N's words echo through his mind, and his grip on her waist tightens in a squeeze before it loosens. His eyes find her chest, lip taut between his teeth.

"Maybe I am. Tell me, Angel… are you really ready to be corrupted?"

His eyes find hers, low and hooded and full of so much excitement and darkness, he gets lost in the way she pulls him in. Y/N's hands find his on her waist, her fingers gripping over his and his hold tightens again.

She rolls her hips against his crotch. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," she whispers, her lips trailing over the shell of his ear and her warm breath fans across his neck. "Maybe I'm already a little wicked."

She pulls away, nose brushing past his but he doesn't let her put any more distance between them. He wants her close, likes the feel of her warm breath on his face, likes the sweet scent of vanilla and coconut that's splattered on her skin and lingers in his mind.

Her lips are parted, as is Azriel's, and he can see the little peek of her glistening tongue, teetering between her teeth. His own does the same, subconsciously matching her teasing and his length throbs beneath her; something they both feel but neither say.

"If we do this, there's no going back. You're not just a fuck to me."

Y/N's heart skips, her heat quivering and chills run down her spine. So she is more to him... but what will this mean after?

"If I'm not just a fuck, then what am I?" She pries.

Azriel nudges the tip of his nose with hers. A smirk ghosts on the corners of her lips as they brush against hers. "My Angel," he whispers. "My only Angel."

Y/N envelopes Azriel's lips in hers, fingers reaching for the back of his head and they tug at the curls on the nape of his neck. It's hot, fiery. She can feel her soul ignite in bursts of white flames, and Azriel's no better at controlling himself.

His mind is foggy, judgement clouded, but he knows he never wants to live a day without feeling her pillowy lips on his. So he kisses her harder, grips her hips with such force they both know she'll bruise by morning. But she loves it, loves the idea of having him mark her and the animalistic part of Azriel craves it too.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you." He warns her breathlessly through the smacking of lips, but Y/N rolls more rigid atop him; pulls his hair that little bit eager.

"Good," she pants, pulling away. "I want it hard."

Y/N stands between his thick, parted thighs. She lets her mouth water as her gaze takes him in. Azriel's no better. His cock is leaping eagerly in his pants at the sight of her. Perfect body in a perfect set, lips swollen and eyes wholly fucked. Her hair is a mess, lipstick smudged and fuck, does he want to shove her face into his silk pillows and ram her little pussy from behind until she can't breathe.

"You're gonna kill me, Angel." He chokes out through his lust-filled daydream, chest heaving in anticipation.

Then she starts to sink to her knees and rubs her palms up his inner thighs, and Azriel about loses it. He shakes his head, breathing hard through gritted teeth and his hands find her wrists, halting her movements.

He shakes his head as he pulls Y/N to her feet, dragging closer until she's straddling him again. Azriel's hands cup her jaw, fingers tangled in her hair. "Gonna take my time with you, have you squirming beneath me until you beg me to stop." His promise has her drooping eyes flutter close, and her lips parting. Thinks she's the sexiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.

His nose bumps hers, lips touching but they don't kiss. "But right now, I need you to be a good girl and turn around." 

Azriel's voice is stern, commanding. It makes her pussy throb and clench and gush, and he knows it. She nods and moves on trembling legs, turning so her back is to him, and Azriel's hands find their home on the swell of her ass.

There's something about him being so strong and dominant to her that has Y/N a puddle of arousal and submission.

She bites back a squeak as he smacks a palm down on her cheek, her eyes squinted closed while Azriel licks his lips at the way her flesh moves with the force of his strike. "Perfect fucking ass."

Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip, teeth piercing the skin but the slight sting of pain only spurs her on -- makes her even more eager for him. She sways her hips, ass a perfect peach shape as she does so and Azriel grips her hips and forces her on his crotch.

Her arousal is sticky against the lace of her panties as she can feel the thick outline of Azriel's cock when she gets seated over his clothed centre.

"Holy shit," she gulps.

Y/N has heard the rumours, the ones that are whispered in the shadows of the night -- of the one that's half man, half something else.

Now she can feel him directly beneath her, and Y/N's mind is heavy and clouded. "Feel how hard you make me?"

His lips are ghosting across her ear; teeth nibbling hauntingly on the shell of it which sends shivers down her spine.

Y/N nods, breathless and wanton. She can't make sense of anything, but she knows she wants this -- needs this.

"Use your words."

She swallows, shaky whimper teetering on the tip of her tongue. "Yes, I can feel you."

Azriel's sick behind her; full of himself as she strokes his ever-growing ego. There's something about hearing her so vocally express how much she wants him, how much she can feel him that has Azriel seeing stars. He isn't blind, he can see just how desperate and hungry the woman is, but a little verbal confirmation never hurt anyone.

His hands rest upon the globes of her ass again, swatting and smoothing however he pleases. The hits have her jolting and shrieking — they have tears stinging at her eyes but fuck, she wants more. She needs it harder.

"Please," she coos softly.

Her voice is cracking and unsteady like she's walking on eggshells.

"Please." Azriel mimics, voice high and childish, one that has her squirming in his lap.

He spanks her again. "Please, what?"

There's a pause of silence as Y/N attempts to catch her breath. She knows what this man can do to her, how he can make her feel. She knows he'll be far from vanilla, and maybe that's exactly what she wants and needs.

"Please, sir." She breathes. "Fuck me."

Smack!

A shrill shriek tears through her chest, and Azriel strikes his palm back down on her skin. His other busies with his belt, tugging it open and popping the button of his pants. He drags down the zip, a sound that echoes through her ears and sends shivers down her spine.

Y/N looks back over her shoulder, her hands steadying herself on Azriel's parted knees when she sees him. Thick, long... oozing with his sweet arousal that she wants to suckle up and swallow down her throat.

His cock stands tall, smacking against his lower stomach and he's big -- better than anything Y/N's ever had before. Her mouth waters at the sight. She can feel her cunt pulsing when his scarred hand wraps around his length and tugs deliciously at himself.

She whines, eager and needy. Azriel's eyes are on her ass, hasn't even realised that she's looking back at him.

He toys with the lace of her panties that disappears between her cheeks. Looping his pointer finger under the fabric at the top of her ass, he lifts it and bunches the lace in a fist, effectively tugging friction across her cunt as he gets a better view of her ass.

She's glistening, he can see. Y/N's pussy is swollen, and the sides of her lips threaten to spill out of the fabric that barely covers her.

"I'll fuck you, baby." He tells her.

Azriel tugs the lace to the side, her pussy soaked and perfect. He swipes a thumb through her wetness, swirling around her tight hole and bringing his thumb to his mouth as he suckles her arousal.

Sweet. So fucking sweet.

He grasps his cock in his hand again, pumping a few ample times before holding himself at the base and lining up with her sopping cunt. Azriel teases her for a moment, smacking the ruddy head of his prick against her pussy and she whines, rolls closer to him.

With a sick grin, Azriel massages his tip against her hole, jutting softly as he pushes in just enough to get comfortable. A low whine echoes through the room, but neither of them knows who it belongs to.

His hands find her hips, squeezing at her flesh. "But you won't be dancing on that pole for a few days."

Lifting his hips and pulling her down by hers, Azriel sheathes into her at once. Her frantic gasp tears through her lips, and her eyes are wide and watering with complete bliss and pain.

Azriel's gritting his teeth, sharp breath spitting through between them. He can't believe how fucking tight she is, and Y/N is fairly confident she can feel him so deep in her fucking stomach.

"Such a tight fucking cunt, Angel." Azriel's mind is in turmoil, can't quite fucking believe a cunt can feel this good.

Y/N is no better; she's a quivering mess on top of him, her grip on his clothed knees surely carving half-moons upon his skin but if it's causing Azriel any pain or discomfort, he seems to love it.

"So big, feel so full," she whines out.

Her ass is nestled in his lap, the coarse hairs of his pubic bone tickling at her supple skin and Y/N rolls her hips experimentally against his. He's still gripping her hips as she moves, her cunt clenching deliciously around his length and he's positively amazed by just how fucking tight she is.

"Yeah? Feel me in your tummy, Angel?" 

She's nodding, whining filthily, and she can't comprehend how sex can feel this good. One hand of Azriel's snakes around her body, tips of his fore and middle finger massaging tight circles on her clit.

Y/N's cunt is on fire, swelling and pulsing and fucking gushing all over the thickness of Azriel's entire dick. He's a mess below her, though. He can't believe how well she's taking the entirety of him.

She's snug, tight — warm and fucking soaked. The feeling of her swallowing him up is completely euphoric; has Azriel's eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His rhythm on her clit is furious; strong, tight circles that have filthy cries and moans slipping past her flawlessly painted lips. Y/N's still gripping his knees, hips rolling and pussy squelching.

"Yeah, right in my tummy. God, it's so good. Don't stop, Azzy... please don't stop."

Y/N is a blubbering mess, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack. She bounces quickly on top of him, feeling every vein and ridge of his thick cock as it pounds into her and tears her apart. Her walls are slick around him, desperate to milk him dry and take his sticky cum.

Azriel lets his eyes focus on her ass, the way it's spread just a little and how the imprint of his ringed hands are starting to bloom on her supple cheeks. Azriel's eyes divert lower when he sees it, sees her take him.

Her lips are swollen, clinging to his length as she comes off him. The base of his cock is soaked, the start of a creamy ring forming around him and Azriel can't get enough. He relents his assault on her clit, makes for her ass instead and pulls her cheeks as far apart as he can. 

His hands massage her skin, saliva welling on his tongue and parting his gritted teeth for a split second, he spits down on her puckering hole and rubs the lubricant across her ass.

Y/N keens at the touch -- the welcomed intrusion -- and bounces faster. Azriel's thumbing at her hole, teasingly rubbing the tip of his thumb around her but it has her a quivering and desperate mess.

"Please, please." She pants out, head falling back and eyes tightly shut.

Azriel gnaws on his lower lip, biting back a smirk, but his hooded eyes are a dead giveaway he's having the time of his life. "Yeah?" He rasps. "Want me in both your holes, Princess?" He baits. He knows it's exactly what she wants.

Y/N nods quickly, crying and pleading for something. He knows precisely the effect he's got on her right now, the power Azriel holds over her, (not that he sees it that way, but knowing she's in such a besotted state from him playing with her ass a little, is feeding Azriel's ego tremendously.)

"Now that's not very Angel-like of you, is it? Angel?"

A shriek leaves her lips as the tip of his finger pushes through, immediately enveloped in warmth and softness. She's blubbering, can't make sense of fucking anything and it feels so damn good.

Azriel never anticipated such a reaction from her, but he's got it, and he fucking loves it.

"Who would've thought," he pants, feet firm on the ground as he fucks up into her cunt, completely obliterating her soul, "that my Angel likes having her sweet little ass stuffed?"

A borderline pornographic cry teeters past her silky tongue, and Azriel's mind is keening. She's still as she hovers over his crotch, letting him fuck her however he damn well pleases. His pace is fast, cock brushing every overwhelming part it reaches as he pushes his thumb deeper into her ass.

"Your Angel," she whimpers out, eyes watering and thighs spasming. "I'm yours, all yours. Only want you stuffing me this good."

Her words are drawled in a matted string of barely comprehendible syllables, but Azriel can understand what she's saying.

"Yeah? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart."

"Cum! Please, cum in me, wanna feel it."

Azriel curses silently behind her, can't believe how fucking perfect this woman is. His balls feel tight, can feel her squeezing him harder and he knows she's about to come too.

"Yeah? It's gonna be a lot baby," he warns. "Think you can handle it? Think you can take my cum, Angel?"

Y/N nods quickly, vigorously. "I can take it! Please, I promise."

She's despondent, like a child. The need in her voice spurs Azriel to his edge, and as his cock bloats and shoots his arousal across her walls, she reaches her own high of euphoria.

They're both panting, grunting and moaning and whining. Y/N's gushing around his cock, creating a decent spillage on the base of him but even as he softens, he's still quite hard.

Azriel doesn't move, no. He makes no endeavour of pushing her off him. Instead, Azriel slowly pulls his fingers from her ass and cooing at the winces and whimpers that resound through the private booth. He shelters his arms around her waist to pull her back flush to his chest.

They both whimper, bodies spent, and eyes hooded. The back of Y/N's head is lounging on his shoulder when Azriel finally gets a glimpse at her face.

Totally fucked.

A wheezing laugh rumbles deep in her chest, and he reaches for her face, cupping the side of her jaw and guiding her lips to meet his in a messy, wet kiss. She pulses around him.

"You're fucking phenomenal."

Another breathy snicker falls past her lips to his. Azriel pinches her hips. "How are you feeling?"

Y/N puffs, eyes fluttering as she slowly raises, bites back the whine she wants to pout at the hollow feeling of him slipping from her cunt.

"The big bad Mob boss wants to know how I'm feeling?" She tantalises.

Azriel watches her make quick work of pulling her panties back over her cunt, halting his cum from leaking out and down her thighs, but he makes no effort to tuck his softening, yet still majestic, length back in his pants.

He lies back with his arms outstretched across the back of the oval couch. "He does," he agrees. "Cares about you, if you didn't already recognise that."

Azriel doesn't miss how she shies away from his gaze, turning her back to him to alter her outfit and to take a moment to compose herself. He takes the opportunity to fix himself too, before he's right behind her, nosing at her hair.

"I meant what I said, Angel," he murmurs. "You're not just a fuck to me."

Y/N turns, chin raised as she eyes him. Her shoulders are strained back, and Azriel knows she's making this posture move to assert confidence, and he doesn't doubt her one bit.

"Then what am I? And don't say your Angel."

"You're a strong, elegant, smart, badass, sexy, intelligent, confident woman," he begins, his hands finding her hips. "And I want you. I want you all to myself."

She peeps, her heart thumping sporadically in her chest. For a moment, it's like the mind-blowing sex from just seconds ago has been utterly omitted.

"You trust me enough for that?" She asks, and Azriel knows precisely what she's asking.

Does he trust her with who he is and what he does? Does he have trust that she will keep her mouth shut and not see him differently when she learns what he's truly capable of? Does he trust that she's all about him?

Azriel quirks a brow. "Do you trust me?"

Does she trust him with her life, because that's what it boils down to? Does she trust him enough to put her life in perpetual danger? Does she trust that he will only desire her, that he will put her before his work? Does she trust that he will never harm her?

Y/N nods. "I trust you."

Azriel drops his head, face closer to hers and the tips of their noses brush.

"Then I advise you to get your things and let me take you back to my place. Because you're in for a long fucking night, Angel."

Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a reblog and leaving some feedback!! <3

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[hells-wasabii]

How would each of the Hell characters(Hotel group, Lucifer, Overlords, Vees) do while cooking entirely on their own? Can be platonic or romantic, whichever you want

A/N: So I know I said 2, but the other one isn’t ready yet I’m still writing it. It’s gonna be pretty big too since it’s that velvette part 2. But I had to get my cat spayed today so I’ve been super busy all day keeping her out of trouble and from hurting herself :/ but anywho, enjoy!

Characters: All that I write for

Type: Hesdcanons (hazbin cast cooking headcanons)

Charlie

With Charlie, I’m a little torn. On the one hand, she’s a princess, so cooking would likely be more of a novelty considering she likely had staff to do it for her. But this is Charlie we’re talking about. She would go out of her way to learn how to cook. Wouldn’t give up either, not until she could do it on her own. I would imagine that she started learning from Vaggie and reading cookbooks.

Vaggie

When it comes to Vaggie, she can cook some, but she’s definitely super humble about it, brushing off any compliments because it’s ‘just food’. If the issue is pressed I can see her getting a little embarrassed about it. It’s mostly dishes that she had been taught while she was growing up, along with basic dishes that don’t necessarily require a honed skill to make.

Angel

Angel can cook, though he doesn’t exactly put much effort into it. I can definitely see him just throwing something together so he can eat and move on with whatever else he has going. Baking is a different story. I can really imagine while he was growing up he would sneak his way into the kitchen while his mother and Molly were baking. He picked it up pretty easily. And as someone who enjoys baking let me just say that his extra set of arms would be so helpful.

Husk

Husk was an entertainer in life, growing up in a casino, learning the trades in the house. That also includes the kitchens. Sure he likely didn’t spend a whole lot of time there but he still picked up a thing or two. So he’d be able to hold his own fairly well when it comes to making a homecooked meal.

Alastor

While it’s canon that the radio demon can cook, I feel like he specifically likes to cook recipes his mother left behind. Cooking recipes from his youth reminds him of joining his mother in the kitchen whipping something up for lunch and helping her prep for dinner. He’s not all that adventurous in the kitchen, though. He likes to stick with what he knows and what he grew up with.

Niffty

Having died in the 50s as a young housewife, I genuinely believe that she at least knows some fad recipes, like those salads and casserole recipes. Jello molds too. But that’s not to say that she wouldn’t know some basic stuff. I can definitely see Niffty being the type to try to create whole new recipes with varying, mostly horrifying results.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is a genius, there’s no doubt about that, but the man can’t cook. At all. He’d burn water honestly. But baking? Oh yeah, he can bake with out a doubt(but not necessarily the decorating part), it’s basically science, but not cook. He’d quite honestly have the Egg Bois help, but let’s be honest here, that’d be a disaster too.

Cherri Bomb

I’ll admit, I wasn’t to sure about Cherri. She just doesn’t seem like the type to cook. Nah. Cherri is the queen of takeout. She can boil water but that’s really about it. Honestly, she’s only really a couple of steps above Sir Pentious, but she can’t bake either. Sometimes though, before Angel went off to the hotel, she would go out and buy ingredients and stuff and go to his apartment and they (he) would make something.

Vox

This man absolutely can cook, and he’s pretty damn good at it too. Considering he’s the television demon, he’s going to have several cooking shows. Hell, he even stars in a couple of them. That being said, he’s not one to do things half-assed. Sure, a lot of cooking shows have stuff that was prepared beforehand, but with Vox’s he goes out of his way to actually make the dishes in real time.

Valentino

I stand by my headcanons from my Valentino posts. He can cook, but it’s honestly a solid 50-50 on whether or not it’s burnt or edible. He’s pretty easily distracted, whether it’s a phone call or something else entirely, so if it's a dish that you have to pay close attention to, it’s likely to not turn out right.

Velvette

Velvette can do some light cooking, but nothing too extravagant. She’s got more important things to do, such as keeping Vox and Valentino on track. With a schedule as busy as hers, I don’t think she would cook often, preferring either Vox’s cooking or takeout. Oh but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t take a picture and post it, because it’s Velvette, of course she does. Oh! But She’s probably been on Vox’s show as some sort of celeb guest type deal, the dish they made definitely stuck with her, so she might make it from time to time.

Zestial

Considering how long Zestial has been around, I would be more surprised if he couldn’t cook. You can’t convince me that after a while he at one point went through hobbies like a revolving door. Cooking absolutely would have been one of them. This man would absolutely try making the craziest things. He’d be up to date on all of the cooking fads, know recipes and cooking methods from several time periods and cultures. With him, there’s no telling what he might cook up next.

Carmilla

While I don’t think that she would really set aside time to cook often, she’s pretty skilled in the kitchen. Carmilla would likely have a couple of nights out of the month set aside to cook a meal with/for her and the girls, a tradition that carried on from their life before hell. She’d even take the opportunity to try new things while cooking.

Rosie

Oh, Rosie can absolutely cook, it’s canon that its a hobby of hers. She’s very well versed in a multitude of cooking methods, and while she may not entirely like a whole lot of new-age gadgets in the kitchen, she can’t really deny the fact that they can be quite useful. I’m willing to bet that she would have an Instapot (they’re great I have two and one of them has an air fryer attachment)

Adam

Adam would never openly admit it, but he knows how to cook. He was the first man, he would have had to learn eventually, even if it was something as simple as preparing meats. That being said, he can grill. I’d be willing to bet that he’d host a little barbeque after the annual exterminations for the exorcists, maybe even enter into grilling competitions.

Lute

Lute’s honestly a bit of a wildcard when it comes to cooking. She might have been able to cook while she had been alive, but nowadays not so much. It had been a long time since she actively made anything, so she’d be pretty rusty. But other than the basics, I don’t really see her being able to be too creative in terms of cooking either. She’d honestly probably stick to what she knows and wouldn’t stray too far away from that.

Emily

I don’t necessarily think that seraphim would really need to eat, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t or don’t. In Emily’s case, I would imagine it as a scenario where she wanted to do something to get closer to humanity. They were her charge after all, or rather their state of happiness. But all humans eat and many find joy in doing so and even in the act of cooking, so she absolutely would be thrilled to learn! She’s getting better at it by the day.

Sera

Sera had likely done the same as Emily when she was a young angel, though I don’t see her sticking with it. I definitely think that she taught Emily to start her on her little culinary journey. She can cook, she just… doesn’t. I’d even go as far as to say it’s been centuries since she’s actually cooked a meal of any kind. That being said, if she were to jump into the kitchen nowadays, she probably wouldn’t have a very easy time finding her way around.

Lucifer

Lucifer is a man of many talents. He can absolutely cook, possibly even Michelin level, he just chooses not to. He likely just considers it a novelty of sorts, considering he has the power to simply poof food right in front of him. Honestly, it’s pretty helpful whenever he’s depressed and doesn’t feel like making anything. But, when it comes to his family and friends, he’s more than happy to whip something up.

Lilith

Another one who would likely consider cooking to be a novelty. Considering how she’s the second most powerful being in hell, and fiercely independent with more important things to worry about. Lilith wouldn’t concern herself with cooking unless it was with her family, and even then it likely didn’t happen that often after Charlie grew up.

Bonus:

Alastor Cat

Would wind up burning what ever building its in down. Was it intentional? Was it an accident? The world may never know

[razorblade180]

Home Warfare

Ruby:*on call* …(Maybe he’s busy?)

Jaune:Hello?

Ruby:!? S-Sup! Just checking in. How was the flight back home?

Jaune:My stomach has stopped flipping. It’s the little victories that matter.

Ruby:I still can’t believe you went back home for break. Isn’t it your first time back since…lying?

Jaune:Yeah, but it’s not like they know that part. Plus I’ve kept in contact. You’re not going back to Patch?

Ruby:Yang did. Dad is actually taking a mission so if o went back I’m basically house sitting.

Jaune:You don’t want to see your old friends?

Ruby:I can do that when I pick up Yang. Making a big deal out of it feels awkward. Have you been smothered with affection yet?

Jaune:What do you mean?

Ruby:It must be a big deal continuing your families legacy; especially in your hometown.

Jaune:Probably, if I meant anything.

Ruby:Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?

Jaune:Just because I’m at Beacon doesn’t mean anything. Not like my grades are stellar or I’m a different person. Still the bullied twerp that left and the son with low expectations. I’m only really here because I have to come back eventually.

Ruby:….

Jaune:Ruby?

Ruby:I could’ve went with you.

Jaune:That’s nice, but why would you?

Ruby:Because you sound miserable! It’s not like I’m doing anything. I can’t do too much about people giving you a hard time but showing up with a new friend has to mean something.

Jaune:I gotta be honest…you being here would make this place bearable. I honestly forgot how…small it felt being here at times.

Ruby:Would you like me to be there? I can take an airship tomorrow, seriously.

Jaune:If it’s really okay, sure. I’d love to see you.

Ruby:Cool. I’ll be your moral support!

Jaune:Haha, thanks. Well I have to go. Dinner is almost ready. Wish me luck.

Ruby:Good luck! *hangs up*

Weiss:*walks in* Oh, you’re still here.

Ruby:It’s our dorm! Why wouldn’t I be!?

Weiss:What I meant is I thought you’d be running around doing anything but being a hermit. Even Blake took a trip.

Ruby:…Weiss? I have an offer you can’t refuse. One that involves the mall, your opinion, and freedom from me.

Weiss:Go on.

xxxxxxx

The next day, out in town

Papa Arc:So what exactly was your role in all that again?

Jaune:I came up with the plan against the DeathStalker.

Papa Arc:Can you really consider a couple callouts a plan? Especially when you didn’t lead the charge?

Mama Arc: Harold! Leave him alone! I think it’s great he’s trying.

Harold:Persephone, trying is one thing, achieving is another. Can’t have him getting full of himself.

Jaune:(Or having any confidence at all.)

Persephone: The year has only really just begun. There’s leaps and bounds a C-student like our boy can make given enough time and focus, hopefully.

Jaune:…

???:He’s actually a B-student thanks to me.

Jaune’s head perked up. He recognized that voice anywhere. He turned around to greet Ruby but was left speechless the moment his eyes found her.

Combat boots were abandoned for red flats. The leggings he had known her for were abandoned for black thigh-highs with rose petals on them. The combat skirt had been stolen and replaced with black jean shorts with a red belt while her corset was swapped for a half shirt with long sleeves that went just past her hands. Jaune might not have recognized Ruby if not for the cloak!

The girl’s hair was noticeably a little wavy and a rose clip kept her bangs out of her face which showed off a modest amount of dark eye shadow that matched new lipstick. It went with her black fingernail polish he noticed as she waved with her left while rolling her luggage over.

Jaune:R-Ruby?

Ruby:Hello~ fancy seeing you here. Although I do remember saying you’d be visiting your dear family. I guess these are your parents! Hi! He’s mentioned wonderful things about you.

Persephone:And not enough about you! Ruby, was it?

Ruby:Yep! Ruby Rose. Jaune’s actually the first person helpful person I met at Beacon; as well as my dorm neighbor. We’re always comparing notes and helping one another as leaders of our teams.

Harold:You’re also a leader of a team?

Ruby:R-W-B-Y. Team RWBY. Hehe, I know I probably don’t look that impressive but I promise you, I know my way around the battlefield.

Harold:…You said my son is B-student now.

Ruby:Mmhm. He has a better memory for history than I do so as token of appreciation, I helped him with Grimm anatomy and practical skills. Your son is quite a fast learner. You must be so proud.

Jaune:I-

Harold:Well he has his ups and downs but of course he has his merits.

Persephone:Anyways…what brings you all the from Beacon?

Ruby:There’s a weapons convention not too far from here. I’m a real nerd for this stuff. Figured I could use my break to stay a couple days and check the exhibit. Is the Arc family presenting any armor or swords?

Harold:You know our history.

Ruby:Of course. I know your son, and he’s quite proud of it the same way I’m proud of my mother and her accomplishments. It’s probably why we get along so well, besides him being raised well. Take it from me, there’s some real jerks that let linage go to their heads.

Persephone:Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing! Jaune! I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned her more!

Jaune:I said I was making friends who get me.

Persephone:Ruby? Is your inner room already booked? If not, you can gladly stay with us while you’re here.

Ruby and Jaune: What?

Persephone:It’s not a problem at all. We never get to meet Jaune’s friends and you must only make so much money while being students. We have plates to spare. Isn’t that right Harold?

Harold:Yes, I’m…curious to know more things about my son.

Ruby:Well…if you insist.

Persephone:Wonderful! We will set things up and take your stuff now. Jaune, show Ruby around the town.

With no more room to negotiate, Ruby gives her things to Jaune’s parents and watch them get far enough away before letting out a sigh. Coincidentally, he did the same.

Ruby:No offense to your parents, but I’m really impressed how nice you are. I heard a little bit of the conversation before I said anything. They’re…a real piece of work. They look like they mean well though.

Jaune:You aren’t wrong. Thanks for showing up when you did. By the way… what’s with the new look?

Ruby:It’s like I said, I’m good on the battlefield. I figured the best way to shut up your hometown enemies was to give them something to shut up about. I’m not one for fashion so i asked Weiss for help finding a look that fits me. Honestly I still think I look awkward.

Jaune:No you’re gorgeous! Like some cool goth badass that’s cu- cute.

Ruby:*red*…Hehe, well thank you. I might not look like it all the time but I really like first impressions. A few people have noticed me on the way in. Guess Weiss went a little too hard, but that works in our favor. I doubt people will pick on you as much.

Jaune:Honestly they might be jealous if they see you with me.

Ruby:Is that a problem?

Jaune:Absolutely not. It would be hilarious.

Ruby:Haha, then lead the way. Show me your old stomping grounds.

Any worries he had faded away instantly. Jaune happily took Ruby’s hand and began walking. The girl was stunned for a second before getting close enough to lean on the boy. Honestly, she could get used to this.

[catch1ngmoths]

๋࣭⭑: GROAN 𖦹๋࣭⭑:

♪ ༘⋆“And yeah, I wanna spend the night with you. Yeah, I wanna feel a beating, bleeding heart, don't you? Because I've never really known but I pinky-promise you I'm grown, and I wanna know what it feels like” -dazey and the scouts ♪ ༘⋆

SUMMARY: Basically just a joost Klein x Fem!virgin reader fic

WARNINGS: Smut, PIV sex, female anatomy, joost is a flirt, very soft, reader is a virgin, pantie stealing?

NOTE: oh my god…I AM SO SORRY FOR MY 4 MONTH ABSENCE!! I HAVE MISSED YALL SO MUCH, I’ve just been so busy but this concept with this song has been rent free in my head, so here yall go! Also there are 34 requests in my inbox so idk if I’ll make all of them but I might finish some of those, IDK!

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

Party’s. You hated most of them, they were always too loud or there were too many people. Too much going on. Too much. Which is why you were sat on a random couch in the middle of a party that your friend dragged you to, picking at the skin around your nails. You let out a wince as you peal away some of the skin you relentlessly attacked, furrowing your brows. At least this was an excuse to get up and do something, you thought as you get up to stumble your way through drunk people into the kitchen.

As you look around for a napkin, paper towels, something, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You turn around with slightly widened eyes to see a tall guy towering a few feet behind you, he had a whitish - blonde short mullet and piercing blue eyes. “Er - are you looking for something?” His accent made your knees weaken. “Oh! Well is there any bandages or paper towels? Something like that?” You ask with a polite smile

“Ah yes, come come, follow me.” He responds, with a smile that calmed any nerves about being here in the first place. You follow him through the drunken crowd of people, trying to be as close behind him as you could. He finally leads you to a small bathroom, looking through the cabinets before smiling back at you and pulling out bandages for you to pick from. Of course you pick the y/f/c one, and wrap it around your finger. “Thank you…..” you trail off, waiting for him to say his name

He chuckles, sitting himself on the edge of the bathtub, motioning you to sit down as well. “My names joost.” He says, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “That’s a nice name.” You say with a small smile, following his motion and sitting next to him. “And yours?” His accent just makes you weak, mentally cursing yourself for the way you’re reacting to this man you only just met.

You tell him your name with a smile, he repeats your name and mumbles a quiet “mooie” under his breath. You swear your heartbeat is so loud it could be heard through the music that’s thumping through the walls. “Why do you seem so upset? I noticed you earlier… you don’t seem to be enjoying this party too much?” Joost questions, shifting to turn more in your direction.

You smile at him, playing with the bandage on your finger, “I don’t do well with parties, there’s always too much going on for me” you respond, looking back at him and his intoxicating features. “Ah.” He says, his smirk turning into a small smile. “Not one for crowds then?” Joosts eyes scan yours, taking in how much smaller you are compared to him, more fragile. As if one wrong touch and you’ll break into tiny pieces, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with the sound of your voice again.

“What about you, how are you liking this?” you say with a smile and a head turn. “Me? I don’t enjoy it either, I’m only here because the host is one of my friends.” He replies with a shrug and a smile. Joost takes a second to look you up and down, noticing your outfit, how cute you look. “I like your outfit, by the way.” He comments, tilting his head slightly.

You light up at the compliment, a small smile playing on your lips. “Thank you, I wear things like this often.” You say softly, “It suits you, you look….” He pauses to look you up and down - he knew what he was doing, a sorta familiar feeling finding its way to your stomach. His eyes darting to your lips, not as subtly as he thought.

“Is that my turn to give you a compliment?” You tease, noticing his eyes. He looks into your eyes, his smirk never faltering. “Sure, hit me with your best shot, schat.” You hum, seemingly thinking of a compliment. Then after a beat, you speak. “You have really nice lips.” The words come out before you can stop them, it wasn’t really a lie though, but you curse your inner voice for having no filter. His smirk turns into a full on grin at the compliment, his eyes flickering to your lips once more before looking back at you. “You think so?”

“I do.” You say, trying to sound nonchalant about it. A shiver runs down your spine as his gaze lands on your lips, you could feel how he was eating you up just with his eyes. One of his legs was almost pressed completely up against yours, you could feel the heat from him as he leaned slightly closer to you. The air suddenly felt too hot in the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You know…you’re very easy to make nervous” he teases as he puts his hand on your knee. You try to speak but it comes out as a stutter, too distracted by his touch. “Y-Yeah?” You say quietly, your heart starting to hammer in your chest as he rubs your knee. He hums in response, his hand moves up further before resting on the inside of your thigh, the touch making your breath hitch again. “Yeah, just look at you getting all worked up by one little touch.”

You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at his words, how true they were. Your thighs instinctively close around his hand as it slowly starts rubbing your inner thigh. “Can’t help it.” You murmur. The only response he gave was a small smirk as he moves to face you completely, his hand now moving to your hip and grabbing it lightly.

You and him are now facing each other, you’re basically sitting on his lap with how close he has you. His hand is on your hip, the other one grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are dilated and staring straight into yours, your body is practically on fire and on edge with how close he is to you. Before he could speak your lips are on his, the drinks you drank earlier making your judgement fuzzy.

As quick as it started you pulled away with wide eyes, “oh god…I’m sor-“ you go to speak until his hands pull your face to his, smashing his lips onto yours. Strong breaths leave both y’all’s lips, whimpers, and moans as well as y’all grab at each other. It’s a desperate tango of lust, “you wanna get out of here.?” He asks against your lips between heated kisses. “Uh huh..” you mumble, not trusting yourself to say words.

Before you knew it, you both were stumbling through the crowd to the front door. Joost was already on the phone with the taxi place as he walked out with you. Some people gave weird looks, some smirked in knowing, but most were too focused on themselves to care about the two pushing past forcefully. As you and joost got outside his lips were on yours once more, it looked like the beginning of a sex scene in a movie.

His hands roam your body feverishly like if he slowed down you’d disappear, while your hands were busy tugging and pulling at the hair on the back of his head. Lips were working on overdrive, a tango of lust and desperation bottled into harsh kisses. Finally the taxi pulls up and both of you part ways, getting in the taxi.

It was a ride full of tension, both you and joost looking over to one another every now and then. His fingers rubbing circles on your thigh, it was odd. You both felt a sense of longing towards one another, for only knowing each other for not even 30 minutes. It was a feeling that both of you felt in your stomachs, a feeling of not just lust but affection.

For you it was multiple feelings deep in your stomach, feelings of excitement, nervousness, awe, and lust. It made your head spin and your brain feel foggy but you didn’t have time to think too deep into these feelings since the taxi had pulled up to what you assumed to be joosts house. You both got out and as soon as your feel hit the floor, joosts hand was interlocked with yours.

You giggle as you get pulled to joosts front door, legs making long strides as smiles paint both y’all’s lips and laughs leave y’all’s mouths. He fumbles with his key as you stand with excitement and fear, you’d never done this before and felt everything inside you yelling to run away from this but your body craved his touch. He opens his door and pulls you inside, you smile against his lips as he connects them again.

You both stumble towards his bedroom, taking off clothes in a frenzy as y’all go. You finally reach the bedroom and are placed on the bed delicately like you were made of glass, I work of art that couldn’t be broken, not in his eyes at least. He leans down to kiss you once more but you furrow your brows and pull away, “joost…wait..” you mumble against his lips

He breathes heavily as he looks down at you, his eyes now flashing concern, “are you ok, do you wanna stop?” He asks, holding your face in his to get his point across that this can stop at the sound of a word. “Yeah - I’ve just, I’ve just never done this before..” you say as you bite the inside of your cheek anxiously, your eyes half lidded. His gaze softens tremendously as he smiles softly at you, “if you don’t want to do this then it’s no problem at-“ you cut him off with the vigorous shake of your head.

“No! I do…I just - you know.!” You blurt out, you had no idea what you were doing, how this would feel, what would happen. He sensed this as he nods at you, pressing a soft kiss to your head, “I’ll be gentle and walk you through it if you’d like..?” Your heart melts and nerves turn to giddiness, you nod and flash him a thankful smile. “I’d really like that..” you mumble against his lips as you press his glossy lips to yours

His shirt is already off and so is yours, you feel his lips licking and kissing at your neck, then the valley of your breasts, your soft tummy, and down until he reaches your skirt. He looks up at you and you swear you can die right here, right now in paradise. “Can I take these off schat?” He asks softly, you give a hum and nod but he doesn’t take that as an answer. “I need a yes or no baby” he smiles at you, he was gonna make sure you were sure about this the whole way through. You squeak out a weak, “please..yes”

He smiles and pulls them off with excitement, licking his lips at the sight of your clothed pussy. He kisses your clit through the fabric, admitting small sounds from you. He kisses and licks through the lace as he groans at the visual of your outlined pussy. He looks up at you once more for confirmation, your voice is shakey as you nod your head. He slowly pulls them off, teasing you before stuffing them in his black jean pocket. He breathes against your cunt before licking a proud stripe right up the center, you let out a whine and grab at his hair. He moans against your pussy, the vibration making your eyes roll back.

He works like he was starving, eating you out like I’d be his last meal but still finding a way to be gentle. His free hand rubbed shaped into your hips in a soothing manner, you could feel his smile against you as you let out a particularly sweet moan that makes him want to stay between your thighs for eternity. You soon feel an unfamiliar sensation in your stomach, grabbing harsher at his hair as you blabber words he couldn’t make out. He knew what was about to happen but didn’t want to make you too sensitive on your first time, he kisses your clit before pulling away.

You whine and shake your head, tears threatening to fall from your eyes in pleasure and frustration. He takes multiple visual pictures of you in this state, hoping to remember this forever. He kisses your cheeks as a not-so-guilty look fills his eyes, “I’m sorry honey, don’t want you to be too sensitive” he mumbles as he pulls off his belt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. You practically droll at the sight of his cock through his boxers, he was huge and you didn’t know how you’d be able to take him.

He sees your wide eyes and whimpers and chuckles, “don’t worry baby, I’ll be slow” he says softly before pulling off his boxers and climbing over you, cooing as he kisses away the sneaky tears that spilled from your eyes. “Are you okay; we can stop right now if you want to” he says cautiously, looking at you seriously. “No no, I want to - just be gentle please” you say softly making him look down at you in awe

“Wouldn’t be anything else with you” he says as he kisses you sweetly, pumping himself a few times before grabbing a condom and slipping it over his dick before asking you if you were ready and kissing your head. After you give him one final confirmation he pushes into you slowly, you wince at the pinching feeling, your eyes watering. He coos and rubs your cheek with his thumb, “shh shhh it’s ok, I’ve got you” he says, nothing but affection in his accent filled voice. He stays still for a few moments, kissing all over your face and mumbling words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear.

He finally speaks up with a genuine tone, “can I move now?” You look up at him and nod, he raises his eyebrows and smiles at you. “Y-yes, you can” you confirm verbally, he lets out hum of approval before slowly moving in and out. A shakey groan leaves his lips as his mouth falls open as he holds onto your waist, pressing soft kisses on your nose, forehead, and closed eyes. You whine and squirm under him as the feeling of pain slowly disappears and turns into pleasure.

His touch, his eyes, even his voice is gentle, as his dick moves softly inside you. The sound of skin slapping together along with moans and groans fill the room, he whispers words of praise in your ear and makes your heart feel full along with your body. “Your taking me so well Schatje, so so good” he moans out as he interlocks your fingers with his, his body embracing you in every way he could. Your moans get more high pitched, making him smile down at you, kissing your head. “J-joost I-“ you can’t find the words as you feel a weird sensation throughout your body before your eyes squeeze shut, tears flowing from your eyes

Joost thrusts a little faster and deeper, making you whine at the feeling of being so full. You feel a spark of pleasure fill your body as you squirm under him, letting out a loud moan. His thrusts continue but gently making you dumb on his cock. He follows shortly after, the hand that interlocks with yours squeezes as he cums, his brain short circuiting at the feeling of you around him. He mumbles words in his language you can’t make out as he holds onto you tightly.

He holds you in his embrace for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at one another with adoration. “Are you okay baby?” He asks, making you smile at the pet name, “m’okay” you mumble quietly as he pulls away from you, your body suddenly felt empty and cold at the loss of warmth. “I’ll be right back” he speaks as he heads to the bathroom to grab something to clean you with, he returns with a washcloth and wipes you clean. His lips find your clit once more as he presses soft, loving kisses all over the swollen bud. You whine and he chuckles, “sorry schatje, couldn’t help myself” he speaks as he lends you some of his oversized clothes to wear

You both dress lazily before he pulls you into his warm bed, his arms wrap around you as your face is buried into his chest. His fingers rub your back soothingly as he whispers loving words into your ear, but the only thing you could think about was where this relationship would go from here. You wanted to see him again after this, you didn’t want this to be a onetime thing - neither did he….

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 3

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: After your "date" with Tyler took an unexpected turn, you wake up to see Scott confronting the cowboy about your disappearance. Word Count: 2045 TW: Fluff, Angst, Family Conflict, Confrontation, Yelling, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

“Where the fuck is she, Owens!” 

As your eyes flickered open, you realized you were no longer lying on Tyler’s chest in the bed of his truck. Instead, you were curled in the back seat, one of his merch t-shirts balled up under your head and his jacket draped over your body as a makeshift blanket. Your head was positioned near the passenger side of the truck and, lifting it slightly, you noticed the driver’s door was open. Tyler was standing outside as if he had just climbed out, the little you could see of his surroundings revealing he had driven you back to the motel.

He turned towards whoever had just spoken—the voice was very familiar even though your sleep-hazed mind couldn’t place it—and held up his hands. “Why don’t we all just calm down an—”

“No!” Suddenly, Scott burst into view as he stormed up to Tyler, stopping only when he was practically chest-to-chest with him. Scott towered a good five or six inches over the other man, yet Tyler didn’t as much as flinch as Scott growled in his face. “I asked you a question. Where the fuck is she?”

Tyler stared calmly at Scott’s fuming face for a moment then chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you lose your cool like this before, Scotty. In fact, can’t say I’ve seen much more than a sarcastic sneer from you before. Something must have riled you up real good for you to be in this state.” Tyler’s voice had slowed, his accent becoming twice as heavy as before as he milked every second in an attempt to push Scott’s buttons—and it was working.

Nostrils flaring, Scott yelled, “How about the fact you’ve been alone with my little sister for the past four hours? I’ve been trying to call and text her but she hasn’t answered.” 

You suddenly realized you had tucked your phone into your purse when you left the motel room. The purse that you had then placed on the passenger’s seat when Tyler helped you down after parking in the field so you could both go eat your food in the bed of his truck. The one you had completely forgotten about until just now. Oops.

But Tyler didn’t offer any such explanation. “We were busy,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “Besides, are you really worried about her, or are you just worried she was having a good time with someone like me?”

“If you laid a single finger on her—”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” The smug grin that had been on Tyler’s face evaporated as he became stone-serious. Whatever game he had been playing was now over. He took a step forward, this sudden shift causing Scott to stumble back in surprise. “You don’t get to play caring, protective older brother when just a few hours ago you basically told her to fuck off because you didn’t want her here. I understand you two might have a complicated history, but family isn’t something you can pick and choose when it's convenient for you. You didn’t want anything to do with her after she traveled all this way just to see you, so you don’t get a say in what she does now.”

Scott recovered slightly, but though he tried to bite back with the same fury as before, it seemed dulled by the force of Tyler’s words. “And you do?”

“No, I don’t. Only she does.” Tyler started to turn towards his open door but then thought better of it and faced Scott again. Lowering his voice, he said, “You know, I used to think you were in the wrong truck. That you should be in Tin Man instead of Scarecrow considering how cold and uncaring you seemed. But I was wrong. You may have your fancy degree from a world-class university yet you are too brainless to see that all she’s looking for is just a little of your attention and love. And if you aren’t willing to give that to her, you can’t get mad when she finds someone else who will.”

Scott sneered at Tyler. “You’ve known her for a few hours and you think you know her better than someone who’s known her her entire life?”

“Yeah. I do.” 

The back door to the truck flung open and you blinked up at the bright lights shining in. Tyler stood in the door with a halo of neon light framing his silhouette, anger rolling off of him in waves. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes burned beneath his cowboy hat. However, when he saw you staring up at him, his expression softened. Giving you a small smile, he murmured, “Hey, sweetheart. You want me to carry you to your room or you think you’re awake enough to walk?”

Stretching to help wake up your limbs from where you had been curled, you sat up. “I can walk.” Ducking your head to hide the bashful smile fluttering on your lips, you added a soft, “Thanks though.” 

Grabbing your purse off the front seat, you started to crawl towards the door when Tyler offered you his hand. You took it and slid out, a small cloud of dust bursting up around your ankles as your boots hit the dirt. Tyler reached back into the truck, grabbed his jacket, and wrapped it around your shoulders before placing his arm on top of it, hugging you close to his body. The warmth radiating off of him and the smell of his skin made you want to snuggle deeper into him and drift back to sleep. 

Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you after all.

As he began to steer you towards the stairs leading to your room, you noticed Scott standing by the rear of the truck with his arms folded across his chest. The two of you made eye contact for just a moment, but you quickly looked away. You didn’t like the look in your brother’s eyes—the seething anger and blatant disappointment you were used to, but it was that hint of something else that made you turn away and lean your head against Tyler’s shoulder. If you didn’t know Scott better, you would almost say he looked hurt. But that couldn’t be possible because Scott would have to care about you for him to be hurt by Tyler’s words or by seeing you together.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else as Tyler helped you climb the stairs. Letting out a soft sigh of relief when your brother disappeared from view, you whispered, “Thank you. For standing up to Scott for me.”

“You heard that?” You nodded against Tyler’s shoulder and you felt him shift beneath you. “Yeah, well, he had the right to be worried about you, but he also needed to be reminded he wasn’t a saint in this situation. Besides, you’re an adult and can spend time with whoever you want.”

You hummed a soft agreement before, a few dozen steps later, reluctantly pulling yourself away from Tyler as you reached the correct door. “Well, this is me.” 

He watched as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. Turning to face him, you said, “I know I already said it, but thank you…for everything. I-I really needed that, out in the field. It helped. And while today did not go at all how I expected, I’m actually very happy with how it turned out.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” 

The two of you continued smiling at each other and you weren’t exactly sure what you were supposed to do next. But just as you started to close the door, Tyler leaned his shoulder against your door frame and said, “Hey, whether you’re done messing with Scott or not, I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

You blinked, butterflies blooming in your chest. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I had a really nice time tonight. It’s not every day I meet someone like you and I’d like to see more.”

Someone like me? You briefly flashed back to yourself sobbing into his chest in the bed of his truck and wondered what he could have possibly seen in you that he would want to see more of. However, you weren’t going to pass up this chance if he was offering. 

Fidgeting with the strap on your purse, you nodded, “I’d like to see more of you too. Maybe you could let me come on a chase with you or something?”

Tyler’s dimples made your breath catch in your throat as his smile widened. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more interesting…I would love to take you on a chase. Show you what it means to wrangle a tornado. How ‘bout I pick you up in the morning around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Nodding, Tyler reached out and took your hand. For a moment, you were taken aback. You might not have known each other long, but after everything that had happened tonight, it felt weird for him to end it by shaking your hand. But then he lifted it, his face disappearing beneath the brim of his hat as he dipped his head, and his lips brushed the back of your hand. 

The kiss was brief and faint, just a soft caress on your skin contrasted by the rough scratch of his stubble, yet you felt a jolt of electricity surge up your arm before traveling throughout your entire body. You were so glad your other hand was still clinging to the door because, without it to steady you, you were sure your knees would have given out. 

Tyler didn’t seem to notice as he straightened up and gently lowered your hand to your side, giving it a light squeeze before releasing it. Then, with a tip of his hat and a wink, he said, “Good night,” and strolled back down the walkway towards the stairs.  

You watched him go until he disappeared. Only then did you close your door, leaning heavily on it with a sigh. Your head thudded back against the sturdy metal as you replayed every moment from the night in your head.

What were you doing? Had this really all started as a game, a way to pay Scott back for how he treated you? Now Tyler was planning on picking you up the next morning after you spent most of tonight crying into his chest? And why did you feel so giddy about seeing him again?

Tyler wasn’t at all what you had expected from his videos or from what Scott had said about him. Sure, he had a wild, playful side, but more than that, he was funny and kind and smart and, to top it all off, a perfect gentleman. You can’t remember the last time someone had treated you with so much respect or consideration. He never tried to make a move or insinuate you owed him for the fact that he was doing you a favor. And even when he pulled you into his arms where it would have been easy to take advantage of your emotional state, he had only sought to comfort you and make sure you were okay. 

Then he had to go and kiss your hand like some handsome cowboy prince charming! What the fuck.

Pushing yourself off the door, you went over and grabbed a towel off the edge of the sink before disappearing into the dingy bathroom. Tyler’s scent still clung to your skin and you almost didn’t want to wash it off. However, the desire to rinse away the remaining tears from your face and feel the hot water streaming down your exhausted, tense muscles won out. You would just have to find another excuse to cozy up to Tyler again tomorrow. Maybe another meal next to him in the back of the truck. Or resting on his shoulder as you both watched the storm clouds roll in. Or pressing yourself against him as you leaned in—

It was only then that the full weight of your situation hit you. This might have started out as an act of revenge on Scott, but the joke was now on you. After only one day, you were falling fast and hard for Tyler Owens.

Part 4 coming 9/2!

Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole,

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[ctrlchar]

HI POOKUMS!!

COULD I REQUEST A JAKE X F READER SMUT?😽

BASICALLY IM THINKING READER AND JAKE HAVE HAD A PRANK WARS GOING ON FOR A WHILE, THE READER THEN ENDS UP PRANKING HIM WITH VIAGRA PILLS (OR ANY OTHER PILLS THAT JUST MAKE YOU CRAZY HORNY)

IMAGINE JAKE HAVING TO LIKE GO FILM OR GO OUT WITH YOU AND SOME FRIENDS LIKE JOHNNIE OR SOMETHING AND PRETEND LIKE HES NOT ROCK HARD, MORE TURNED ON THAN EVER 🙏

IM REALLY NOT PICKY SO YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOUD LIKE HOW ITS GONNA CONTINUE, BUT THE ONLY THING ID PREFER YOU EXCLUDE IS BREEDING KINK IF THATS OKAY🙏

I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY POOKUMS!!🥰 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW!!

speed it down then slow it up

a/n:this might just be my favorite request yet tbh so sorry it took this long i’ve been busy lately but i’ll get back to posting regularly soon🙏

also title is from bubble pop electric ‼️

this prank war which jake had of course started had been going on for a eternity. at the moment,he had the upper hand therefore you just had to go all out.

the two of you had mentioned trying some aphrodisiacs a couple times but never fully went through with it. that was until today,when you, jake and johnnie had to record a video inside of a store.

you walked around recording the two boys occasionally passing the camera along to one of them as you waited for the viagra jake had taken to kick in.

you had worn a shirt that showed off a bit of your cleavage but not too much as well as your favorite bottoms

you had been talking to the camera while admiring the items around you until johnnie stopped recording, before practically scolding jake

“hey jake,i get that you may have a girlfriend but i’m trying to shoot a video here and i’d strongly appreciate it if you didn’t stare at her fucking tits the whole video” he says ending it with a sarcastic smile making you laugh

“hm?” he says looking up at you with a somewhat dazed look

you and johnnie let out a laugh at his reaction before eventually forgetting about it and going back to what you were doing

the video continued on as Jake tried his very best to conceal the large boner that has been forming in his pants over the past while, his hands glued to his pockets

he wondered as to why he could barely control himself but that thought went out the window as soon as you had dropped something and bent over to pick it up

he almost let out a small groan at the sight before he concealed it,remembering where he is

johnnie,who was busy looking at some item in the store was oblivious to jake who was practically looking down at you your ass with puppy dog eyes as you stood up

your eyes meet jake’s before they then notice the large print in his pants which you could’ve sworn looked at you first

“please baby don’t leave me like this” he whines in reference to his very prominent boner which you feel as he wraps his arms around your waist,checking to make sure no one else was in the isle

you weigh your options,because if you do help him then you’ll obviously loose the prank war because of your own prank but at the same time you and him wanted it just as bad,he just couldn’t hide it

“come on,you know you wanna help me” he whispers in your ear while he leaves a few small kisses along your neck,with his hard cock pressing right against your ass

this prompts you to quickly go and tell johnnie you and jake were “going to look at something” in the store before darting off to find the nearest bathroom.

as you walked away from johnnie you had a slight skip in your step while you and jake quickly entered the bathroom in hopes no one would see you.

jake instantly forced his hands up your tight fitting shirt groping at your tits before attacking your neck with wet,and sloppy kisses.

“jakey-baby you know I love it when you kiss me there but we don’t have a lot of time” you say in between breaths as he kissed your neck before halting his actions

he agrees but not without a groan and a plea on his end.

and before you know it your pressed against the cold wall with jake sliding the head of his cock inside of you.

with a sharp inhale jake was now fully inside of you,his hands holding onto you tightly as he says a quiet “you feel so good ‘round me” before beginning his assault on your cunt

you slapped a hand over his mouth knowing how loud he gets and as you expected his moans get louder while his strong arms hoisted you and held you against the bathroom stall. and just by how franticly he was thrusting into you, you could tell just how badly he needed you

you rested your head in the crook of his neck whimpering like crazy whenever he would thrust right against your cervix

“fuck- i’m gonna-” he groaned,his fingernails digging into your thighs as he came deep inside you. his hips continuing faster then they had before while his mouth connected with yours to muffle his moans

with his thrusts not faltering,his deep groans and grunts turned more into whimpers and moans when he continued to fuck his cum out of you as the two of you tried your best to stay quiet.

“don’t know how you expect me to stay quiet” he whines with a thrust. “not when she’s squeezing me this good-fuck” he moans out feeling close once again

you then pull him into a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, one of your hands creeping up and gripping his hair. the two of you moaned into the kiss,jakes pace slowing down,the tip of his cock still brushing right against your cervix

you pulled back,with your hands still placed around him “jakey i’m gonna cum” you’d whine out. this then makes jake thrust even harder then before trying to get you to reach the peak he gets you too so well

you bite your lip, and surprisingly don’t draw blood, while you and Jake try your best to keep quiet. once again,you pull him into a kiss to stifle his and your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm.

after a few moments,he pulls out and the two of you put your clothes back on before jake stops.

“uhm babe,i know we just fucked but i’m still uh-“ he stutters too embarrassed to tell you. cocking a brow you question him to which you shortly get an answer when you look down and noticed the tent that was still pitched in his pants

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 3

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: After your "date" with Tyler took an unexpected turn, you wake up to see Scott confronting the cowboy about your disappearance. Word Count: 2045 TW: Fluff, Angst, Family Conflict, Confrontation, Yelling, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

“Where the fuck is she, Owens!” 

As your eyes flickered open, you realized you were no longer lying on Tyler’s chest in the bed of his truck. Instead, you were curled in the back seat, one of his merch t-shirts balled up under your head and his jacket draped over your body as a makeshift blanket. Your head was positioned near the passenger side of the truck and, lifting it slightly, you noticed the driver’s door was open. Tyler was standing outside as if he had just climbed out, the little you could see of his surroundings revealing he had driven you back to the motel.

He turned towards whoever had just spoken—the voice was very familiar even though your sleep-hazed mind couldn’t place it—and held up his hands. “Why don’t we all just calm down an—”

“No!” Suddenly, Scott burst into view as he stormed up to Tyler, stopping only when he was practically chest-to-chest with him. Scott towered a good five or six inches over the other man, yet Tyler didn’t as much as flinch as Scott growled in his face. “I asked you a question. Where the fuck is she?”

Tyler stared calmly at Scott’s fuming face for a moment then chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you lose your cool like this before, Scotty. In fact, can’t say I’ve seen much more than a sarcastic sneer from you before. Something must have riled you up real good for you to be in this state.” Tyler’s voice had slowed, his accent becoming twice as heavy as before as he milked every second in an attempt to push Scott’s buttons—and it was working.

Nostrils flaring, Scott yelled, “How about the fact you’ve been alone with my little sister for the past four hours? I’ve been trying to call and text her but she hasn’t answered.” 

You suddenly realized you had tucked your phone into your purse when you left the motel room. The purse that you had then placed on the passenger’s seat when Tyler helped you down after parking in the field so you could both go eat your food in the bed of his truck. The one you had completely forgotten about until just now. Oops.

But Tyler didn’t offer any such explanation. “We were busy,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “Besides, are you really worried about her, or are you just worried she was having a good time with someone like me?”

“If you laid a single finger on her—”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” The smug grin that had been on Tyler’s face evaporated as he became stone-serious. Whatever game he had been playing was now over. He took a step forward, this sudden shift causing Scott to stumble back in surprise. “You don’t get to play caring, protective older brother when just a few hours ago you basically told her to fuck off because you didn’t want her here. I understand you two might have a complicated history, but family isn’t something you can pick and choose when it's convenient for you. You didn’t want anything to do with her after she traveled all this way just to see you, so you don’t get a say in what she does now.”

Scott recovered slightly, but though he tried to bite back with the same fury as before, it seemed dulled by the force of Tyler’s words. “And you do?”

“No, I don’t. Only she does.” Tyler started to turn towards his open door but then thought better of it and faced Scott again. Lowering his voice, he said, “You know, I used to think you were in the wrong truck. That you should be in Tin Man instead of Scarecrow considering how cold and uncaring you seemed. But I was wrong. You may have your fancy degree from a world-class university yet you are too brainless to see that all she’s looking for is just a little of your attention and love. And if you aren’t willing to give that to her, you can’t get mad when she finds someone else who will.”

Scott sneered at Tyler. “You’ve known her for a few hours and you think you know her better than someone who’s known her her entire life?”

“Yeah. I do.” 

The back door to the truck flung open and you blinked up at the bright lights shining in. Tyler stood in the door with a halo of neon light framing his silhouette, anger rolling off of him in waves. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes burned beneath his cowboy hat. However, when he saw you staring up at him, his expression softened. Giving you a small smile, he murmured, “Hey, sweetheart. You want me to carry you to your room or you think you’re awake enough to walk?”

Stretching to help wake up your limbs from where you had been curled, you sat up. “I can walk.” Ducking your head to hide the bashful smile fluttering on your lips, you added a soft, “Thanks though.” 

Grabbing your purse off the front seat, you started to crawl towards the door when Tyler offered you his hand. You took it and slid out, a small cloud of dust bursting up around your ankles as your boots hit the dirt. Tyler reached back into the truck, grabbed his jacket, and wrapped it around your shoulders before placing his arm on top of it, hugging you close to his body. The warmth radiating off of him and the smell of his skin made you want to snuggle deeper into him and drift back to sleep. 

Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you after all.

As he began to steer you towards the stairs leading to your room, you noticed Scott standing by the rear of the truck with his arms folded across his chest. The two of you made eye contact for just a moment, but you quickly looked away. You didn’t like the look in your brother’s eyes—the seething anger and blatant disappointment you were used to, but it was that hint of something else that made you turn away and lean your head against Tyler’s shoulder. If you didn’t know Scott better, you would almost say he looked hurt. But that couldn’t be possible because Scott would have to care about you for him to be hurt by Tyler’s words or by seeing you together.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else as Tyler helped you climb the stairs. Letting out a soft sigh of relief when your brother disappeared from view, you whispered, “Thank you. For standing up to Scott for me.”

“You heard that?” You nodded against Tyler’s shoulder and you felt him shift beneath you. “Yeah, well, he had the right to be worried about you, but he also needed to be reminded he wasn’t a saint in this situation. Besides, you’re an adult and can spend time with whoever you want.”

You hummed a soft agreement before, a few dozen steps later, reluctantly pulling yourself away from Tyler as you reached the correct door. “Well, this is me.” 

He watched as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. Turning to face him, you said, “I know I already said it, but thank you…for everything. I-I really needed that, out in the field. It helped. And while today did not go at all how I expected, I’m actually very happy with how it turned out.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” 

The two of you continued smiling at each other and you weren’t exactly sure what you were supposed to do next. But just as you started to close the door, Tyler leaned his shoulder against your door frame and said, “Hey, whether you’re done messing with Scott or not, I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

You blinked, butterflies blooming in your chest. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I had a really nice time tonight. It’s not every day I meet someone like you and I’d like to see more.”

Someone like me? You briefly flashed back to yourself sobbing into his chest in the bed of his truck and wondered what he could have possibly seen in you that he would want to see more of. However, you weren’t going to pass up this chance if he was offering. 

Fidgeting with the strap on your purse, you nodded, “I’d like to see more of you too. Maybe you could let me come on a chase with you or something?”

Tyler’s dimples made your breath catch in your throat as his smile widened. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more interesting…I would love to take you on a chase. Show you what it means to wrangle a tornado. How ‘bout I pick you up in the morning around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Nodding, Tyler reached out and took your hand. For a moment, you were taken aback. You might not have known each other long, but after everything that had happened tonight, it felt weird for him to end it by shaking your hand. But then he lifted it, his face disappearing beneath the brim of his hat as he dipped his head, and his lips brushed the back of your hand. 

The kiss was brief and faint, just a soft caress on your skin contrasted by the rough scratch of his stubble, yet you felt a jolt of electricity surge up your arm before traveling throughout your entire body. You were so glad your other hand was still clinging to the door because, without it to steady you, you were sure your knees would have given out. 

Tyler didn’t seem to notice as he straightened up and gently lowered your hand to your side, giving it a light squeeze before releasing it. Then, with a tip of his hat and a wink, he said, “Good night,” and strolled back down the walkway towards the stairs.  

You watched him go until he disappeared. Only then did you close your door, leaning heavily on it with a sigh. Your head thudded back against the sturdy metal as you replayed every moment from the night in your head.

What were you doing? Had this really all started as a game, a way to pay Scott back for how he treated you? Now Tyler was planning on picking you up the next morning after you spent most of tonight crying into his chest? And why did you feel so giddy about seeing him again?

Tyler wasn’t at all what you had expected from his videos or from what Scott had said about him. Sure, he had a wild, playful side, but more than that, he was funny and kind and smart and, to top it all off, a perfect gentleman. You can’t remember the last time someone had treated you with so much respect or consideration. He never tried to make a move or insinuate you owed him for the fact that he was doing you a favor. And even when he pulled you into his arms where it would have been easy to take advantage of your emotional state, he had only sought to comfort you and make sure you were okay. 

Then he had to go and kiss your hand like some handsome cowboy prince charming! What the fuck.

Pushing yourself off the door, you went over and grabbed a towel off the edge of the sink before disappearing into the dingy bathroom. Tyler’s scent still clung to your skin and you almost didn’t want to wash it off. However, the desire to rinse away the remaining tears from your face and feel the hot water streaming down your exhausted, tense muscles won out. You would just have to find another excuse to cozy up to Tyler again tomorrow. Maybe another meal next to him in the back of the truck. Or resting on his shoulder as you both watched the storm clouds roll in. Or pressing yourself against him as you leaned in—

It was only then that the full weight of your situation hit you. This might have started out as an act of revenge on Scott, but the joke was now on you. After only one day, you were falling fast and hard for Tyler Owens.

Part 4 coming 9/2!

[spideystevie]

bad for business

summary: steve’s good for your heart but he’s really bad for business word count: 4.5k a/n: me every time i post after being mia for months: who’s missed me! this was technically supposed to be inspired by bad for business by sabrina carpenter and then suddenly it wasn’t. not even sure there’s much of a plot but alas! also feel a little rusty at this right now, it’s been a while since i’ve really written anything but i’ve missed steve a crazy insane amount. love you, miss you, hope you all enjoy this <3

You’re late. You’re never late. 

The bell above the door to Dottie’s jingles as you hurry inside. Your fingers work on muscle memory to tie your apron around your waist as you slide through the mismatched seating arrangements inside the diner to get to the back office. 

You’re not sure if the way your stomach flips is from it being full of a single gulp of coffee or because it’s more than an hour past when you should’ve been here. The time punch on your card reads 9:07 am and your stomach lurches. Definitely not the coffee. 

It’s a Sunday, arguably your busiest day in the diner and arguably the worst day for you to show up like this. No doubt Dottie has noticed but you’re hoping against hope that she didn’t. God, what are you going to tell her?

Sorry Dottie! My super hot, super charming boyfriend wouldn’t let me out of bed this morning! Won’t happen again! 

Your face feels warm, like you’ve just spent an extensive amount of time in the sun in the middle of July. You knew you shouldn’t have stayed over last night, but you were so tired and Steve’s couch is way more comfier than yours. It really doesn’t help that his bed isn’t any different. 

“Lots of traffic this morning?” you jump, notepad falling out of your hand. Susan starts to snicker as you drop down to pick it up. There’s a smirk on her face when you rise to full height. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her name tag is crooked on her apron. You’re not sure you’d consider Susan one of your closest friends but you find yourselves pulled together considering she’s the only other young person working here. 

“Oh you know…,” your voice rises in pitch and you clear your throat, hitching one shoulder up to your ear in a shrug. “Sometimes you just hit every red.”

Susan’s eyes narrow. There’s only one working light on your usual route to work. Coming from Steve’s adds only two. Not to mention, you didn’t drive yourself today. Steve dropped you off, promising to pick you up at 4 on the dot when your shift ended. Susan pops her gum in her mouth, not convinced with your fib.

“Right.”

“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, Cliff is waiting for me in his usual booth,” you hurry past before she can ask you anything incriminatory. You hear Dottie before you see her, on your way to grab the coffee pot. 

“You feeling okay, sweetie? You’re normally here right on the dot. An hour isn’t like you.”

Dottie’s older than most and she’s been running the diner outside Hawkins for a whopping 30 years now. She hangs out behind the counter and loves to chat with the regulars and get to know those just passing through. With rosy cheeks and gray streaked hair almost always pulled out of her face in a bun, she’s almost like another mom with how long you’ve been working here. 

You snag the excuse she basically throws you out of the air. 

“Had a bit of a rough night, but I’m feeling a lot better now, Dot. Didn’t realize I had overslept until I heard the birds chirping outside. It won’t happen again,” you say. 

You didn’t oversleep actually. Whatever natural circadian clock inside of you wakes you up at almost the same time every workday but Steve can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Your heart does a little sigh of his name. Steve. You swallow and try to blink away the image of him.

Dottie gives you a sympathetic smile with a concerned tilt of the head, taking your flustered mannerisms and the way you wipe your palms against the sides of your jeans as lingering symptoms of whatever she thinks ailed you last night. She squeezes your bicep, the press of her mixed metal rings cool against your skin.

“Take it easy today, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”

“Course, Dottie. Thank you,” you give her a smile and grab the coffee pot. 

Cliff sits at the same spot every morning. A little booth along the window wall, three down from the door to the diner. He looks a bit rough around the edges, his coat well loved and worn and his hands weathered from years of hard work. He’s worn the same baseball cap every time you’ve seen him and he’s always got a copy of the morning paper open and propped in front of his face. 

He spots you out of the corner of his eye and scoots his empty mug closer to the table’s edge. You smile and pour the coffee, leaving enough room for his two packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low to be stirred in. 

“Anything new this morning, Cliff?” 

You’ve only known Cliff on his own, but you know he used to come with his late wife Winnie for coffee every morning before she passed. He’d summarize the big news and events and she’d do the crosswords on the back. Now, you let him summarize to you and he leaves the paper on the table for you. You do the crosswords on your break. 

“Same old, same old. They’re thinking about rebuilding the mall that burned down in Hawkins a few summers ago. You hear anything about that?” He sets the paper down to the right of his coffee mug and grabs two pink packets of sweetener. You watch him tear the paper and pour them in. When he looks at you, you shake your head. 

“First time I’m hearing of it. My boyfriend used to work there before it…you know,” you mention, unable to stop the morsel of information from slipping out. A twinkle sparks in Cliff’s eye, a small smile on his face as he diverts his attention back to his mug. The spoon he’s stirring with clinks against the coffee stained ceramic walls. 

“Are you ever gonna bring this boyfriend of yours around here so I can actually see that he’s real?” He’s teasing, tapping the handle of the spoon against the rim of the mug and setting it in the gap between the coffee and the newspaper. You roll your eyes but a smile lifts your cheeks. 

“I don’t know if that’d be too good for business around here,” you joke. 

“And was he the reason you were late giving me my coffee this morning?” He's quick to cover his smirk with the coffee mug as he takes a sip. Your mouth falls agape and you fluster, shaking your head and laughing shakily. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Cliff. No, he was not. There was traffic!” Cliff makes a face at this and you don’t blame him. Has the traffic excuse ever worked for living in a small town, you wonder. “And I had a rough night and accidentally overslept, is all.”

He grabs his morning paper again and opens it up. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The rest of the morning starts to fly by in a blur. You recite your favorites off the menu to a couple passing through from Chicago. Refill Cliff’s coffee twice, each time dodging whatever he tries to insinuate about your tardiness this morning. Sneak an extra pancake onto little Sofie’s plate with a wink. The early morning breakfast rush blows through and things start to quiet down. 

You’re wiping down the table adjacent to Cliff’s booth. His mug is empty and he’s left the paper for you like usual. The bell rings as he opens the door to leave. 

“See you tomorrow, Cliff!” you call after him and he raises a hand in a wave as he walks through the door, thanking the young man that holds it for him. 

You have to do a double take as you swipe the paper off the table. It’s not just any young man in passing holding the door, no it’s Steve coming inside Dottie’s. It’s Steve standing at the entrance in his usual Levi’s and a white tee with sleeves that seem to strain around his biceps with windswept hair and a bright smile when he sees you. 

There goes your heart again with the sigh of his name. Steve. Though maybe this time you think it was your voice instead, airy and soft. You can’t believe he’s here. It’s nowhere near 4’o’clock. You’re aware of Dottie’s eyes on you behind the counter and Susan’s from across the diner and nearly every regular scattered about as well. 

Your knees wobble at the sight of him, the disbelief fading away and giddy smile falling into place as he meets you next to Cliff’s booth. Cliff, who’s standing outside the diner and staring and you worry he might come back inside to hound you and insist you introduce him, but he doesn’t. 

Steve wraps an arm around your waist, fingers hot against the side of your stomach through the layers of your apron and shirt, and dips to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting. There’s a rush of a swoon that goes down to your toes, the bulk of it getting stuck in your abdomen and swirling like crazy.

You’re in the middle of a greasy old diner but Steve’s somehow tucked you away from prying eyes and into your own little safety bubble. He’ll be the death of you one day. Your heart’ll just keep expanding until it can’t fit inside your ribcage anymore and has no choice but to explode from adoration and kill you. 

“What are you doing here?” you wonder aloud, eyes scanning all around his face, taking in every freckle and crinkle and mole. You pause for a minute on his lips and then you blink and find his eyes. He’s smiling at you, in a way that tells you he caught that and you feel struck by that feeling of being caught in the July sun again. He looks around the diner and everyone’s attention goes back to what they were doing before.

“Thought I’d surprise you! Also, it’s supposed to rain later and you didn’t take a jacket so I brought you one.”

Only then do you notice the gray fabric in his other hand and your heart twists and flips and oh god, you think this might be the moment it explodes. He presses it into your hands, the newspaper crinkling against it. 

“What’s that?” he asks as you go to thank him. Your brow cinches for a minute before it smooths in comprehension.

“Oh! Cliff,” you point towards the door he’d just walked through, “one of the regulars, leaves the paper behind for me every morning so I can do the crosswords. A little tradition we’ve got going on.”

“A tradition? Should I be concerned?” He jokes and you laugh. 

“Oh, definitely. Cliff’s your biggest competition,” you throw back and now it’s his turn to laugh. A glittering light fills your chest. You glance over to where Dottie is engaged in conversation with a middle aged woman just passing through. She can’t hear you from this far but you drop your voice nonetheless. “No but, he did give me a bit of a hard time about his coffee being almost an hour late this morning.”

At your pointed look and sly smile, Steve winces, fingers pressing a quick squeeze against your side. An embarrassed blush blooms on his cheeks, bridging across his nose. “Right. Sorry.”

“Forgiven,” you lean up to press the quickest flash of a kiss to his cheek. You wrap your arms around the newspaper and jacket, holding them to your chest. “Do you wanna sit for a minute? I can get you some coffee? Although be warned, Dottie might come up and talk to you.”

His arm drops from around your waist and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”

You smile and motion him into Cliff’s booth. When he sits, he insists on holding onto the jacket and newspaper for you and you let him. He watches you take Cliff’s mug away and walk to Dottie behind the counter to get him a fresh one.

Dottie bumps her hip with yours as you pass and you give her a look. The pot’s nearly empty and you wait the few minutes it takes for it to fill, eyes catching on Steve while you wait. He’s stopped staring and has instead taken interest in the comics in the paper. 

“He’s handsome,” Dottie’s voice snaps you back into your senses. You glance at her and she’s got a special look in her eyes to match the smile on her face. You check the coffee pot that’s filling up quicker than normal. But your focus drifts back over to Steve, who senses your gaze and looks over to you and flashes a big grin. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he is.”

Dottie looks between the two of you and then takes a look around the diner. It’s not the usual Sunday hustle and bustle, post early breakfast rush and the impending rain could be the indicator for that. She's got Susan and Judy’ll be coming in any minute now and Pam right after at 12. When she looks back at you, you’re watching the last few drops of coffee fall into the pot. 

“Take the rest of the day,” Dottie says. Your eyes snap up to meet hers over the coffee pot between you.

“What?”

“Go sit and have coffee with that boy of yours and then go home,” it doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order but you look around the diner and hesitate. 

“Dottie, it's Sunday. I can’t just leave this early on our busiest day of the week.”

“There’ll be other Sundays busier than this one. And you need your rest after the night you had. We’ll be okay, now go,” she pushes. You bite back a smile as you relent, kissing Dottie on the cheek as you pass with the full coffee pot and two mugs gripped tightly in your other hand. She shakes her head watching you cross back to the third booth from the door. 

Steve lights up when you enter his line of sight but his brow furrows at the two mugs held in your left hand. You set them on the table and fill them both with the fresh coffee before setting the pot down on the table. He watches you slide into the empty spot in front of him. The same place you assume Winnie occupied when she’d come here with Cliff. 

“Dottie’s letting me off early,” you say, grabbing an almost obscene amount of Sweet ‘n’ Low packets and dumping them into your mug. “Can you hand me a creamer?”

Steve finds himself staring at you, doctoring your diner coffee to how you like it, hearts for eyes and a wistful smile taking permanent residency on his face. When he doesn’t hand you the creamer right away, you look up, only a little confused but mostly amused at the blatant and overwhelming display of admiration across his features. 

“Steve?”

He blinks in quick succession and clumsily reaches for a creamer while you giggle and god, it’s killing him that he hasn’t kissed you right yet since he’s been here. You hold out your hand and he sets the mini pod on your palm, your fingers brushing his as they enclose around it with a thank you. 

He watches you finish stirring in the creamer, the coffee in your cup now a light shade of brown. You take a sip, both palms wrapped around the mug and your eyes on his when you set it down on the table. 

“You look nice,” you say, eyes dropping down to the simple white tee he’s wearing. When you look back up at his face, his smile is cheeky and his cheeks are flushed. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to kiss him across the table.

“Yeah? The plain white tee is really doing it for you?” he leans closer over the table, voice dropped just the slightest bit. You mirror his movement almost like there’s a magnet pulling the two of you together. Steve pulls one of your hands into his, weaving your fingers together across the table. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” there’s a flirtatious thrum in your voice that makes Steve grin. His mouth opens to respond, another silly flirty quip back when Dottie appears at the side of the table. 

“You kids want anything to eat?” 

The sound of her voice sends Steve jumping back against his seat, like he’s 15 and getting caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You lean back slowly, amusement clear on your face and a question in your eyes. Do you?

Steve looks from you and up to Dottie who watches with a knowing gleam in her eye. He starts to shake his head but then his eyes fall back to you and he’s repeating the question to you with his eyes. You consider it for a second and then shake your head slightly which Steve repeats to Dottie.

“No, we’re alright, thanks,” he says and Dottie nods. She grabs the coffee pot but doesn’t move. 

“Heard a lot about you…” she trails off and Steve’s eyes widen just a tad. 

“Oh! Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington,” he fills in the blank for her, even reaching out his hand for her to shake. 

“Dottie. She talks a lot about you, Steve. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it.”

You try to cover your face with your one free hand and groan, “Dottie.”

Steve lets out a small laugh and squeezes your hand, always finding it endearing to see you flustered. You slowly move your hand away, to which Steve gives you a quick wink which only makes you want to hide away again like you’re 16 with a crush. 

Dottie pulls him into an easy conversation. How is Hawkins? Where’d you both meet? And: Do you have a job? I expect only the best for my girl here, you know. And: you’ll have to come back and have something more than just coffee next time. 

By the time she’s finished and gone off to engage with the newest patron in the diner, your coffee’s finished and Steve’s has gone cold. You watch Dottie walk off and when you look back, Steve’s staring at you, soft and kind. His gaze makes you squirm. 

“I like her,” he says. 

“Uh oh, do I have to worry about having competition now?” you joke and Steve shakes his head with a laugh. 

“You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you’re the only one for me,” he confesses, rubbing his thumb against your hand. There’s that feeling like your heart might explode again with a sigh of his name, Steve. Though this time, you’re positive you’ve said it outloud.

“Steve,” you tilt your head, voice soft. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles and if you don’t kiss him in the next minute, you’re going to have a problem. As if he can sense it, Steve sticks a five on the table and grabs the jacket he’d brought for you as well as Cliff’s leftover newspaper.

He holds his hand out to you to help you out of your side of the booth and you take it, his palm soft against yours. You make it to the door and then pause. 

“Oh! Gotta grab my bag from the back,” you lean up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Meet you at the car?”

Steve nods, squeezing your hip briefly. He watches until you’ve disappeared into the back office before he walks out to his car. You come out not even a minute later, apron off and over your arm and bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a slight skip in your step. 

The air smells like rain, an earthy petrichor that makes things somehow feel lighter. Steve’s leaning against the passenger side, the door already open and waiting for you. When you’re close enough, he hooks a finger through your bag strap to pull it off your shoulder. It gets caught on the crook of your elbow when you reach up to cup his cheeks with your hands. 

He’s confused for the briefest of seconds and then your lips are on his and he forgets about the bag on your shoulder. His hands fall to your hips, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist. Something inside both of you is cheering, finally. 

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing Steve. Both of you fit perfectly into the empty spots of each other, as if you were carved from the same stone upon creation. It’s a kiss almost far too explicit for outside Dottie’s diner midmorning on a Sunday but you can’t bring yourself to care. That is, until you need to come up for air. 

You pull back, Steve chasing your lips and winning. You’re almost smiling too much now for it to work, your hands sliding from his cheeks to the sides of his neck. This time, he pulls away and your chests rise and fall in sync. 

“Been needing to do that since you first walked inside,” you breathe out and Steve lets out a laugh that you can feel reverberate through you. He kisses you again, quick and soft and his hand moves to take your bag off your shoulder again. 

“And why didn’t you?” he jests, stepping back enough for you to get into his car. One of your hands rests on the top of it, the other hanging loose at your side. Steve wishes he had a camera on him just to capture you in that moment with the sun hitting you in just the right way, playful adoration in your eyes. 

“Because,” you shrug, stooping to get inside the car, holding a hand out for your bag when you’re situated. Steve passes it over and closes your door, jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. 

“Because…?” he pries, sticking the key in the ignition but not yet turning it. You’re pulling your seatbelt across your chest, turning your head to smile at him as you click the buckle into place. 

“Because Dottie might’ve gotten suspicious as to why I was so late this morning,” another pointed look his way and Steve shakes his head, turning the engine over and quickly buckling in his seatbelt. He shifts into reverse, checking his rearview mirror and then slinging his arm across the back of your seat. 

It’s like a feast for your eyes. The stretch of his arm, a long expanse of muscle right by your head that carries a strong whiff of his cologne. The swift, smooth, one handed feel on the wheel. You’re staring unabashed, only getting knocked out of your reverie when he responds. 

“I’m never living this down.”

He glances at you, his arm dropping from your seat to shift into drive. You lean your head against the headrest and shake it with a smile. 

“So what was your excuse then? For being late?” 

He pulls onto the street to take you back towards Hawkins, his right hand leaving the wheel and dropping to find your hand. You take the liberty of slotting your fingers into the spaces between his. 

“Oh you know. Rough night being sick. Oversleeping. Like something out of Steve Harrington’s playbook for getting out of work,” you tease. He scoffs, sparing you a quick amused glance. You lift your hands to your lips in response, your smile hiding behind the kiss you press to his knuckles. 

“And did it work? Did she buy it?” 

“Oh, of course. Why do you think she let me off so early?” 

Steve looks over at you again and sees the slight smirk on your face. He shakes his head with a slight laugh. 

“Wow, you’ve been hanging around me too long. I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Like that’s such a bad thing,” you roll your eyes, turning your head so your cheek rests against the leather of the headrest. A gooey softness melts into your gaze. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Steve smiles, his cheeks blooming with a slight twinge of pink. He doesn’t say anything, just takes his turn lifting your joined hands to his lips to litter kisses along your knuckles. Your heart goes mushy, such has been the case since you started dating Steve. The mush liquefies, seeping through your body with a shiver when you notice the picture he’s got propped on his dash. 

He’s had to have just added it recently. A grainy film capture of the two of you, you think Max must’ve taken it if you remember correctly but you haven’t seen it before. You’re both leaning against the hood of his car, Steve’s arm around your shoulders and your hand lifted to hold his hand that hangs there. A big toothy grin is spread across your face, your head tilted slightly against Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not looking at the camera though, he’s looking at you with a lopsided smile, adoration spilling out of him clear as day. 

“When did you add that?” you ask, pointing at the picture with your free hand. Steve glances down at it and immediately breaks into a smile.

“Just the other day. Surprised it’s taken you so long to notice it,” he replies, looking over at you and then back at the road. You’re about to ask if you can somehow get a copy of your own when he says, “I have a copy for you at home, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get it before you go back to your place.”

You smile at him, one that’s soft around the edges, a perfect mirror of how you feel. It feels so wonderful to be known and seen by somebody the way Steve knows and sees you. Making sure to get two prints of that picture of you. Bringing a jacket to work for you for the rain that doesn’t arrive until that afternoon as you’re about to leave his house to go back to yours. 

He uses it as an excuse to keep you with him for another night, something you weakly protest against because the roads aren’t completely slick yet and you can get home just fine. But he insists, his eyes round and pleading and really you can’t deny that you’d rather stay with him anyway. 

Even if it means you’re tired again in the morning and rushing to work. You think being with Steve is a worthy price to pay, you never thought you’d be so glad to be so tired. 

And, at least you’re not late this time.

[kooktrash]

guys my age | jeon jungkook DRABBLE 18+

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, smut, age gap [38 & 21] flush

warnings: 2k words. smüt. pool smüt [ oral f & m receiving]

You know absolutely nothing about law, especially not the kind Jungkook works with. As a litigator his clientele consists mostly of large businesses filing copyright lawsuits, tax fraud, etc. it’s probably the most boring form of law but he gets paid big bucks for it.

You understood his work and how busy he could be so of course some weekends he still had to work. It kind of sucks when you come see him but you also understand it and try to stay out of his way when his case partner is over.

“Babe!” Jungkook called out from his office.

“Yeah?” You shouted back from the living room where you’ve been on your phone and watching TV. You’ve been lounging around pretty much all of Saturday in just a tiny pair of Jungkook’s plaid boxers and a short top looking like the definition of comfort.

“What are you thinking about for dinner?” He asked, walking into the entrance way of the living room with Namjoon right behind him. You assumed they were done for the weekend. You shrugged, resting your head on the back cushion of the couch as you looked at them two.

“Not hungry.”

Namjoon looked at Jungkook who just looked at him back, “I’ll get these filed and ready for Monday.”

“Alright,” Jungkook said walking Namjoon toward the door but stopped at the couch to be next to you as he watched his partner head the rest of the way toward the door.

“Bye Y/n,” Namjoon said with a clear of his throat, “Sorry for taking up so much time.”

You just waved goodbye and turned your attention back to the TV. Jungkook looked down at you waiting for you to say something, “You’re not hungry?”

“Not really,” you said looking down at your phone lazily.

He released a small sigh as he rounded the couch and sat down next to you. Without a word he picked you up and pulled you onto his lap despite your little whine in protest at being babied.

“You mad at me?”

He knows he works a lot and he just feels so bad. Last time he was able to drive to you for a few days but this time he begged you to come here for the weekend. Then he gets this huge workload that had to be done by Monday so he wasn’t even able to take you out yesterday or today.

Jieun’s mom cheated on him because he was always busy with work and he’s worried. He’s still scared that he’ll drive you away because of work and he doesn’t want that.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair, “No? I’m just not hungry.”

“You sure?” He asked, “Sorry, I know I asked you to come this weekend and then I got all this work that had to be done and I’ve basically wasted your entire Saturday having you locked in here all day.”

You didn’t say anything, hand under his chin as you tilted his head up and placed your lips on his gently. He kissed back immediately letting his tongue swipe along your bottom lip deepening the kiss as you shifted on his lap.

Jungkook brought his hands down to your hips, moving you enough for you to get the hint and straddle him, “You’re always so sweet.”

“Liar,” you smiled into the kiss as he held you pressed against his chest.

“For the most part,” he chuckled, “Plus you taste sweet.”

“Mm, do I?” You asked, looking down at him. You did. Everything about you was sweet to him.

In the beginning you came off strong and eager and very lust driven. That’s what your relationship consisted of at first, just a lot of sex, sex, and sex. Then one day he asked if you wanted to go out for dinner after you left for school, he offered to drive down and the two of you spent an entire day in the city. After that you would call him in the evening, ask how work went, offer to drive down and see him for the weekend but you two still tried keeping it downlow.

When Jieun found out it put a stop to what the two of you did out of guilt until one day Jieun snapped at him and said, ‘Jeez you were a lot nicer when I knew you were hooking up with Y/n!’

Why’d she say that? Because she used his credit card to book a flight to Tokyo with Yoongi. So really, that was her weird way of saying that he needs to date someone so he can relax and it just so happened to be her friend. She still gets grossed out when she sees you two kids but she also feels awful for blaming him for the divorce and Y/n’s her best friend so she got over it pretty quickly. Soon the two of you were officially dating, doing grocery runs, shopping together, going on real dates and all of it. You never blamed him for having to work or not call because he would do little things to make up for it like deliver food to your place, maybe some flowers to your new job—a traditional dating man, you always said. Nobody had ever gotten you flowers and that was just so ridiculous to him that not a single one of your previous boyfriends ever even thought to do that!

Anyway, back to the point, you’re the sweetest little minx he’s ever met.

“What about swimming and then drinks?” You asked now that he was deep in thought, “Before it gets cold.”

He sighed, “You can live in the water, can’t you?”

“Well…” you stared off in thought, “I’m just thinking about how we’ve never had sex in the pool before.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know? A premature death,” he said as he held you tightly and used his big strong arms to stand up with you in his arms, “Let’s go.”

You were both sexual beings despite Jungkook’s three or four years of celibacy. Even when he was with his ex wife he never felt satiated so it’s no surprise that when you came along the two of you were very intimate. You were always so eager and ready and though he loved your sweet side when he would catch you fast asleep on FaceTime while he worked away in his office, he loved your needy side too.

He was gripping the edge of the pool tightly so he wouldn't float away and angled his head to one side in an attempt to deepen the kiss the two of you have been sharing since you got in the water. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if he ever got a complaint from his neighbors from how often he’s fucked you on the poolside. He let the hand that had been cupping your cheek slide down to your neck then toward the hem of your bottoms. Your tongue poked against his and he parted his lips even more to allow you in.

He skimmed over your bottom until his hand touched the soft skin of your thigh where he pinched lightly and wrapped it around his waist. You lifted your other leg on your own essentially straddling his waist in the water as he pushed you against the wall for more support.

Needing to catch a breath, you began to pull back feeling Jungkook follow your movements to keep kissing. You nipped at his bottom lip as you separated, making him groan.

His hands were on your hips now looking down at your swollen glossy lips panting, "You have no idea the things you make me want to do with you.”

He was huffing out of breath pressing himself closer against your body making sure to keep your legs wrapped around him. He lowered his mouth to your neck placing soft kisses up your jugular.

"Yeah? Do tell, Mr. Jeon," you licked your lips smiling at the old term you gave him.

His eyes rolled back as you kissed down his jaw toward the back of his ear. He let out a breathy laugh at the tingle over his sensitive spot. His hands caressed your thighs and back making you grind against him a little, "Again with that? I thought I’ve taught you better.”

“You like it,” you teased. You felt his hand slide under the hand of your underwear, thumb pushing into the bone of your hip tracing it toward your butt. You slipped your tongue out pulling back once more to catch your breath. He looked devilish.

The messy, wet, black hair. The lip piercing he currently swiped his tongue over. The bob of his Adam's Apple as he gulped. The rough feel of his fingers inching toward your core as neither one of you pulled away from the intense eye contact.

Just like that, his middle finger was running over your clit lightly. Your lips drew open in a small gasp and he took the opportunity to go in for a tongue kiss. His brows scrunched together swallowing your moan as your hips bucked into his hand.

His hand toyed with the slick against your heat using it to his aid as he let his middle finger push between your folds.

His mouth formed an 'O' shape against yours at the first feel of your hand over his growing member. The briefs did very little to stand against your hand as you placed your palm over him. The water made it easier for him to carry you without getting tired but it almost numbed your touch—but you wanted pool sex and who was he to say no?

You struggled to tug his briefs down barely getting them under his member to let it peak out as his hand relentlessly rubbed against your clit. You finally slipped your hand over his member, relishing in the size of him as your palm ran over his tip.

The water made it hard to feel everything clearly but as you ran your fingertip along his tip you could definitely feel some sort of substance coming out.

His head dropped down against your shoulder as his hand sped up its ministrations using his free hand to guide your hips further along. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your hip.

"Fuck," he groaned feeling your hand stroke his member. Your nail ran along the thick vein underneath and thumb swiped along his slit. "Feels good," he mumbled against your neck, lips brushing against you as he relished in the feeling.

He could feel you getting close too from the way your walls tightened around his middle finger and it made him want to stretch you further. He let his ring finger toy with your entrance before sinking in feeling some constriction before you relaxed around him.

It didn't take much longer for his hips to stutter as they bucked into your fist and he had to grope at your waist to keep you from falling out of his grasp. His knees were going weak as he used one to keep you up against the wall.

"Jungkook," you moaned lightly, feeling his palm press harder against your clit bringing you closer and closer to your high, "I—I'm close."

"Mmm," he bit his lip, "Let go, pretty baby."

Your legs trembled, one hooking around him tighter pressing him further against you as you grinded against his hand. All it took was the whisper of your name so close to your ear, "Y/n, I love you.”

You nearly froze and got a second he wondered if it was wrong for him to say that. This was still new, he might’ve scared you off but that’s how he felt right now.

“I love you too,” you said in a whisper as your hand drew toward his base massaging his scrotum in your grip and at once, you both released in each other's hands kissing deeply as he mumbled it again against your lips.

::.

TOO MANY OF YALL HAVE ASKED FOR A CONTINUATION SO HERE IT IS BUT SOFTER

Ask GMA Jungkook and Y/n? SEND IN INBOX

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[sinning-23]

Piercings (Sanji x Reader)

I’ve fallen down the one-piece rabbit hole and most likely have a new hyperfixation I don't care they’re all hot and I will write like my life depends on it. Anyway, ENJOY SOME SANJI 💃🏾✨

Pt.2 out now! (18+)

Warnings: flirting, heavy touching, mentions of needles, kissing omg so scary

You're leaning against the bathroom sink, trying your damdest to keep a steady hand while you try and slide the needle through the skin of your lip. This wasn’t your first rodeo, considering you have plenty of piercings from your past. Whether it was a manic episode, a silly little impulse decision, or one you'd been wanting for a while, you had them.

Being out on the ocean didn’t really leave you a chance to go and get them done by someone in a shop but you picked up tips and knew what to do for the most part. Besides, if you messed up, you'd just have a little story to tell about it later!

You focused, taking one swift, deep breath before letting the metal into your skin, moving calculated with the jewelry, eyes watching a bit from the shock. This one was a bit easier since you’d had them before and the holes had closed. Observing your face with a smile, satisfied with your work you exit the bathroom.

As far as you knew the only other person with a semi noticeable piercing was Zoro. And even though you two didn’t really bond over it, it was something you had in common. Nami had her ears pierced as well but that was cause you'd offered when she mentioned wanting them. Commotion from the kitchen slows you down and you can’t help but let curiosity get the best of you. It was most likely just Sanji making something for lunch.

“Good morning!” You announce, making your way to the countertop to take a seat.

As predicted, Sanji was focused on his craft, hands moving from different ingredients to one big pot and two smaller pans steaming away behind him. Nami waves and smiles in response as Luffy follows behind her, snatching up an orange before smiling your way.

"Good morning Y/n!" Luffy beams, the kitchen falling in silence once again when the pair leaves.

...does this mf not see you sitting here all pretty?

"Good morning to you too my beautiful, wonderfully glorious, super sexy, absolutely adored y/n" You state, albeit a bit teasing.

He looks up for a moment, not missing the way you had rolled your eyes at the fact that he hadn't bothered to return the acknowledgment to you.

"Good morning chérie." He smiles, always intrigued by your chipper yet, slightly flirtatious attitude.

When you first arrived, it was really just to be an extra set of hands and someone with a rather extensive knowledge of islands. Not to mention pretty damn good with the locals considering you were a people person much like your captain. Anyway, Sanji tried his hand at the compliments and pet names, but you always returned them with quick wit.

In all honesty, it shocked him, and soon you were engaged in a mutual flirtatious game of cat and mouse. Pet names became hushed compliments and whispers in one anothers ear. Brief touches became prolonged and damn could you two hold eye contact. At this point, it was basically an eye-fucking starting contest.

You grin at him, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

Sanji paused for a moment to examine your face, four shiny dots along your lower lip, two on either side. He swallows hard, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. What a pretty mouth.

"New piercings?" He questions, turning away from you and back to the stove.

You give a quick, "mhm!" and hop off to hover beside him.

"Shark bites, I mean, we are on the open ocean so why not!" You explain, leaning against the stove for a moment before jumping back with a hiss. Leave it to you to get injured while trying to mess around and chat in a busy kitchen!

It's instantaneous when Saji turns to see if you're injured, his own coming to yours to observe the burn. It wouldn't be the first item he's asked you to not mess around in here while he's working but you were so damn hardheaded, he knew this. But you just couldn't help it!

Unbeknownst to him, being around him and seeing him was the highlight of your day. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't developed feelings for the flirt. But considering he wasn't just flirty with just you, but Nami too, you'd made plenty of excuses and reasons to back off, even toning down your flirting a bit, thinking that you were getting in the way of who he really wanted.

It always killed you on the inside little bit, thinking of how one day maybe Nami would fall victim to his charm like you had. She'd be the one to whisper things to him, the one to press kisses to his face in adoration maybe. It was an odd way to punish yourself and keep your distance, imagining unrequited love but hey, to each their own.

However, unbeknownst to YOU as well, Sanji had developed a old-fashioned crush. How could he not! He loved the teasing, if he was being completely honest. He loved how you stayed just close enough to him to make his heart beat faster. He'd be more than happy to have you closer in all honesty. Pretty face, pretty personality, witty, fierce, bold as hell might he add.

Not to mention shawty got a body on her- Sanji redirects his focus, looking up into those pretty (e/c) eyes.

Taking your hand he pushed it under the icy water from he sink a silence washing over you.

His hands are bigger than yours, littered with scars as he rubs circles over the top of your hand in comfort. You swallow hard, trying to distract yourself from how warm his grasp feels on your wrist. Gentle but warm, contrasting with the harsh water. He's focused, lips and teeth fiddling with a small silver sphere while he turns the water off and grabs the aid kit beside him.

"Sanji." You breathe out, searching his eyes and lips briefly.

"Stick out your tongue....please?" You ask, seeing him swallow hard, ears flushed red., heat spreading to his cheeks. He doesn't follow through with the request.

Using your free hand, you follow the curve of his jaw before using your thumb to slide down his lips. Soft.

"I'll show mine if you show yours." You offer, letting your tongue slide over your lips deceivingly.

He's got this damn irresistible puppy look in his eyes, his lips parking only a bit before he sticks his tongue out, the silver shining in the kitchen light.

You bit your lower lip for a moment, letting your tongue do the same, only for him to find that it was split. He stopped dressing your hand now, the pain greatly dulled with a new distraction.

"Any more surprise body mods I should know about?" Sanji questions, voice dripping with desire.

Keeping your distance was a joke at this point because you'd be damned if you did have your lips on him within the next 10 seconds.

"I could ask you the same. Though, you should take me out before you see what else I have on my body? Don't you think Sanji?" You whisper his name, testing the waters.

It doesn't take much else for him to lean forward, your lips connecting like puzzle pieces. It's a soft pec at first, but soon becomes hungry and consuming, his pierced tongue sliding over your split one. It's hotter in here, his body caging you in, your hands fighting between staying on him, or resting against the countertop for support.

The tobacco on his tongue is addicting, just as much as the way he makes a point to make you feel the small metal sphere. There's only a moment to breathe, but when you do your right back on each other, this time, finding more stability with your arms around his neck, and his hands at your hips, thumbs tracing just above the curve of your ass. And then he feels it.

"Back dermals. Impulse decision but the backshots are nice."You hum, pulling at his lower let gently with your teeth.

He groans, the grip on your hips becoming tighter when he dips his lips down to the skin of your neck, sucking for a moment in debate. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, his ears red as the color spreads to his cheeks. It's so damn hot in here.

"Backshots huh?"All takes is a whimper from you and he's back to work, the metal from his piercing sliding over your skin.

A look of horror washes over you before you can respond back, and you're pushing against him in a hurry. He opens his mouth to question what's wrong, anxiety seeping into his chest but before he can ever get a chance to overthink, you're already shouting.

"THE STOVE, SANJI! THE STOVE! ITS ON FIRE!"

____________________

LMK IF YOU WANN BE TAGGED IN PT.2

that one gets a little(a lot) spicier and uninterrupted by kitchen chaos and fire hazards

[biographydivider]

Urgent Brother Business

A little gift for @somerandomdudelmao in return for their delightful Future AU, and for blessing us with Tiny Tello. I couldn’t get the image of him bossing gigantic, adult Leo around out of my head!

“So the Krang dogs were last spotted here,” April was saying, tapping at a map she’d laid out across the War Room table. “If we come around the perimeter this way, we should be able to use these ruins as cover to...”

She looked up from the carefully plotted attack plans at the ten recruits she’d assembled to go over strategy; none of which were even looking at the map. “Seriously, guys?” April huffed. “I don’t even have to turn around to see what y’all are gawking at...”

Behind her in the hallway, the Leader of the Resistance, The Greatest Ninja of All Time and the turtle who was meant to be leading this damn meeting was crawling across the  floor, barely holding in a laugh as a tiny, furious green pancake led him about by the tails of his mask.

“Well,” April deadpanned, arms folded, “I’ve turned around, and I see. Master Leonardo, you wanna get involved, here?”

“Can’t, April,” Leo said, pointing down at the turtle tot, who was scowling through his custom, handmade glasses at the world around him. “I’m double-booked. Take it up with Donnie.”

Donnie - the recent victim of a severe bout of anti-aging that seemed to be going around the base of late - growled reedily and tugged on Leo’s mask tails.

“Oop, we’re off again. See you next time, Commander. Recruits.”

“The sooner Mikey works out how to change him back,” April sighed, turning back to her map, “the better. Okay, can we at least try to focus, please?”

Leo had been basically useless to the resistance since Donnie got babified; following him around and basically doing whatever his little brother (emphasis on little) wanted him to do. That or picking Donnie up and gently squeezing him around the middle, just to hear him squeak. It was so darn cute!

“Where are we going, bud?” Leo asked, as Donnie led him through the base, his face a mask of adorable determination. “You wanna go bath? S’at it? You wanna swim? Oh, we’re going to the kitchen? I can getcha a cookie, just don’t tell Raph...oh.”

They’d stopped just in front of the counter that held the battered, dinged but somehow miraculously still functional coffee machine. It was Donnie’s pride and joy - he’d rescued it from a decimated Starbucks a month or two back, painted a Genius Brand logo on it and had made it work on salvaged coffee beans, evaporated milk and a dream.

Tiny Donnie looked up at it expectantly.

“Uh, bud?” Leo said, getting to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. “I don’t think I can get you a coffee right now. You’re just a little guy, and I don’t know what all that caffeine will do to your sensitive lil’ tum-tum.”

Donnie looked from the machine to Leo and, assuming he simply hadn’t made himself understood, jabbed a tiny finger in the direction of the machine.

“D. Coffee’s not a good idea right now.”

Donnie grumbled and pointed all the harder.

“Nuh-uh. No way.”

The turtle tot’s eyes widened in scandalised betrayal - then narrowed as he hissed out something that was obviously a very bad word in Baby-ese.

“Woah, woah, you watch your mouth, mister.” Leo bent down to scoop up his brother. “You need a time out, buddy. Away from all this --”

An entire arsenal of purple nimpo weaponry materialised around Donnie.

“...temptation,” Leo finished weakly. “Eeuough boy.”

“Okay,” April was saying back in the War Room, having finally - finally! - wrangled back the recruits’ attention. “So this next part’s important. Escape plan; this back alley is vital, everyone memorise the co-ordinates --”

BOOM BOOM BANG POW SCREECH POP BOOM BANG BANG BANG BANG

As one, the recruits snapped their attention to the doorway, just as Leo sprinted past, shrieking in terrified laughter as Donnie - somewhere in the haze of purple light and firepower that surrounded him - followed in hot pursuit.

“Donnie no, Donnie stop it I’m sorry, Donatello stand down I’m still your commanding officer--AAAAAGH!!!”

A soft, resonant boom, followed by a cloud of purple smoke. April deflated, finally admitting defeat and rolling up her map.

“Doesn’t matter. Just...don’t worry about it, guys.”

[punksocks]

My Opinions on the Moon Signs

(Btw I’m going to reply soon, sorry life and work has been very busy this June ;0)

Aries moon- The definition of passionate. They can be outgoing and a lot of fun. Definitely super charismatic people. Determinators (more than Aries sun sometimes imo), they’re going to get what they want done. They also really hate not being listened to or treated as the leaders in the room. When they’re mad they get passive aggressive asf and so pissy. Every Aries moon I’ve known has basically refused to be personable while they’re upset. No matter if they were older or younger than me (my grandfather was an Aries moon). They’re loud when they’re happy and loud then distressingly quiet when they’re upset. They stay mad until they decide not to be mad anymore. Then they’ll never talk about it again and be so jovial you could never guess they were upset 2 minutes ago. Good time friends and great at entertaining a crowd though.

Taurus moon- I’m biased bc my partner has this and I love them :0. Softies. They’re grounded and caring, like no one will help soothe you more than a Taurus moon. They’re really giving but it depends what they feel resource rich in. Like if they have a lot of control over their time they’ll spend days on you. But if they grew up during constant instability and financial stress they have a hard time being flexible with giving money or moving house or things like that. They’ll come around if you can show them that they can keep their physical safety. In fact, I think it’s easiest to change a Taurus moon’s mind out of all the fixed moons (in my experience).Also, They really like it when you call them on their shit and shoot straight with them. Also food, they love good food. Any tactile good time really. They’ll make you feel special if you give them affection.

Gemini moon- I don’t have a ton of experience here. Chatty but keep more to themselves than Gemini suns. Only shows you certain parts of themselves, they always have a lot on their minds. The poster child overthinkers of the zodiac (and virgo moons too ofc). Funny tho, always a sense of humor and philosophy about just about every situation.

Cancer moon- Sweethearts. Exalted placement for a reason. Really good at sensing problems/insecurities and putting words to them. They can catch crushes easily. They need to get as much validation as they give. Like a lot. That’s one of their emotional love languages. Can be comforting or very manipulative it depends on how developed they are. One of the most creative people I ever met was a cancer moon, they were super talented and recieved a lot of praise for their great work. A sweetheart that had a lot of creative hobbies and was close to their family. Daydreamed quite a bit, but no more than any other water sign placement.

Leo moon- They don’t need to be the center of attention as often as people think, but they do need to be listened to. It means a lot to them. Can be really aggressive as kids for a period of time then they grow into themselves and can be pretty chill. Maybe a bit too chill about things they aren’t passionate about. They light up when they’re excited though. Also, they can be super competitive, like they can get in their feelings about losing at something they’re trying to show off in. (Like a video game or team sport or what have you)

Virgo moon- Very thoughtful and insightful people. They’re able to pick through and see little imperfections in people that others can not. Whether they use those powers for good or evil is truly up to them. (I have had many friends use this power for good and a relative or two use this power for evil). Everyone I’ve met with this placement has been so seriously beautiful and so aesthetically put together, idk how they do it. Doesn’t love to be called on their shit lol, you must be gentle with criticism unless you know them very very well. But they have a lot that’s on their mind and a bit they’re insecure about so you may accidentally start beef by saying something. But super perceptive people, a delight to gossip with (mercurial moons love to bond over gossip) and they have great ideas. If you have a problem to solve or analyze they’ll often have a set of solutions.

Libra moon- don’t know a ton of them. Not super well anyway. They can be very intelligent and understand a lot about the things they like. And they bluff/charm their way through everything else. Most likely to act differently around different people to try to be the person they think whoever they’re talking to will like.

Scorpio moon- usually very goth/dark style, or they’re drawn to it. Usually just radiate intensity. But also more detached from more situations than I expect every time? They have had a lot of emotional hardships growing up and so they kind of expect to get hurt again by those they’re close to. It’s like a callous for them. If they let you in you’re very special. The developed ones are such sweethearts. Knew a manipulative one that was underdeveloped and crazy tho ngl. Like that person seemed violent and like they wanted to burn the world to feel warm. So either very sweet and stand-offish or just destructive asl.

Sagittarius moon- not my cleanest set of experiences ngl. If you’re like having a good time with one then they’re funny and can be the life of the party. Can also not know how to be emotionally supportive, but will attempt it. But my mom was my bad experience and there was a lot of explosive anger at little things mixed with being immature about others emotions. Throwing a book across the room because she didn’t understand what her (post grad) homework was or coming home angry and yelling after a bad day of work without so much as saying hi. And a lot of being mad at me and other kids for not being instantly emotionally soothed yknow? Like if I needed to sit in silence and process that would tick her off and set off a chain reaction. Explosive anger. Also forcing themselves to laugh loudly after an argument to feel better (Aries moon grandfather did this too I don’t get it). This is mainly underdeveloped energy though. I had a friend with this moon placement and they had a hard time processing their emotions and would usually breakdown for a moment then get back up again. Also people with this placement tend to get most romantically interested in unavailable people imo.

Capricorn moon- me! And a lot of people I connected with briefly and deeply. Having terrible mothers and bonding over it lol. High standards for others even higher standards for themselves. Seems emotionally distant but will break down and cry when they feel safe and are probably alone. And they have a playlist for feeling sad I bet. You either are someone that they tell when they cry or you never know. Has to work out of seeing emotions they were shamed for as a sign of weakness. Gifts are their love language and if they can’t find the words to tell you how they feel about you they will often buy you something you mentioned you always wanted or something you needed off hand. Sentimental types, trouble right expressing it. Will talk to you about everything if they like you and nothing if they don’t. Capricorn placement most likely to go into isolation mode to really consider their relationships and place in life. Might grow suddenly distant if they feel neglected or betrayed. Underdeveloped ones are removed from their emotions in a dangerous way and in denial about all the healing they need to do.

Aquarius moon- also another set of messy personal experiences. Can come up with really out of the box solutions. Seem to either be revolutionary or very very conservative. Like most of the Aquarius moons I’ve known have been men so grain of salt but they would be the ones to most constantly say “a good woman does x” or “if you have that attitude you won’t get married” or throw shade on “girly” hobbies. You can’t change their mind. Even if you present evidence or a sound argument, hardest to get through to of all the fixed signs imo. Sometimes they’ll come back having changed their own mind. Maybe they googled whatever you said and started to believe you. But they’re not going to say you changed their mind. It’s something that they have to believe they made themselves come around on. They often have an independent sense of right and wrong. Sometimes very intelligent, sometimes just bluffing their way through it. Always will respond to opinions though. Can be really funny people, sometimes on accident. Allergic to routine and desk jobs. Usually… detached. Like if they care about you, they’re going to express it in an abstract or private way. Can be hard to tell if they care at all in my personal experiences ngl. My dad is an underdeveloped Aquarius moon and he’d often tell me to swallow my emotions and repress them and go with the way things were. (I don’t talk to my parents anymore lol, they’re narcissistic people)

Pisces moon- I’ve only known a few personally. Sometimes really surprisingly basic. Sometimes they’re just made of magic and they see the world in a whole different way. Emotionally in-tuned with people around them. If their environment is misanthropic then they’re more likely to be. If their environment is upbeat then they’re more likely to be. Most likely to grow up to be like their family/peers but assume they’re not imo. Sentimental with the folks they’re close to.

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

KINKTOBER (reuploaded)

Pegging (Matt)

Request: none but yall begged for me to bring it back lmao

Warnings: pegging obviously, sub!matt, best friends, bi reader, fingering(male), dual pleasure strap on, use of vibrator, slight edging, use of matty, mommy kink, whiny!matt, 0.2 seconds of matt sucking the strap, i think that’s all, lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: sorry this is a few days late, i’ve been super busy. tomorrow will be posted on time

Y/n’s pov

I was in the kitchen working on my MacBook when my best friend Matt came in and sat across from me. “Hey Matt.” I greeted him without looking up from my computer screen. “Um hi Y/n/n. Can I uh ask you like a really weird and personal question?” he asked. I was a bit confused but nonetheless nodded in agreement, “Sure I guess…” I said while clicking save and closed my laptop to give him my full attention. “I uh- I can’t ask you here, can we go to my room?” he stated nervously, only adding to my confusion.

We got into his room and Matt closed the door behind him, “So you know how you’re bi?” “Oh really, I am? I had no idea!” I replied sarcastically. “Not funny, but like you’re bi, obviously. I um, uh I-I know you have a strap-on…” he stuttered and trailed off. “If your question is why do I have it, I’m going to hit you for being dumb.” I joked, making Matt squirm uncomfortably, “Have you ever, you know, used it on a guy before?” he inquired nervously. “No… Why do you want to know about my sex life you weirdo?” I was suddenly getting a bit flustered because how the hell does Matt know I have a strap-on in the first place and why is he asking me about what I do with it?

“I- uh- I really like y-you and I have um- a fantasy involving you a-and I really want you to do it. Please don’t get mad.” he stated in a rushed tone, stuttering over a few words. I was beyond confused and a bit shocked, “That’s not how I expected this conversation to go. Um, okay, wow- what’s um… what’s this fantasy?” I asked curiously. Matt started to nervously pick at his nails and chew on his lip, avoiding eye contact with me as his cheeks turned pink. “Would you please dom me?” he asked, “And peg me…” he added, saying it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

“What!? Matt are you sure? It’s probably gonna hurt, I’ve-I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever used it to fuck a girls pussy.” I replied flustered and just as nervous as Matt. He finally looked at me with pleading eyes, “Please? I have lube and I’ve fingered myself before. I’ll be a good boy and listen, I promise!” he begged me. Looking at his face, I reluctantly agreed “I uh- okay, we can try it. I’m just scared I’m going to hurt you.” I told him softly. “You won’t hurt me, it’ll just be uncomfortable at first. I really want this, I’ve thought about it since we were 17. Can we do it tonight? Chris and Nick are going over to a friend’s house.” Matt said quickly, clearly excited that I agreed.

“Sure I guess, but I’m gonna want foreplay beforehand. And I’m probably gonna want to kiss you, like a lot.” I laughed as Matt’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink again. He started looking down again nervously “Can I kiss you right now?” he asked softly, instead of answering I just tilted his head up and captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss. “Mhm, thank you.” he blurted out after, as I got up and made my way to the door. I sent him a wink before going to my own room where I pulled out my strap-on, which happened to be one for dual pleasure, meaning there was a vibrating dildo that went into me as well.

Even though it had already been cleaned after the last time I used it, I decided to clean it again anyway. I also decided I needed to ask Matt another question so I texted him to come to my room. I laid out a few sets of lingerie, that basically cover nothing, on my bed, but I wanted Matt to pick one anyway. “Um what did you need my help with?” he asked as he stepped into my room, closing the door. “I want you to pick which one you want me to wear tonight.” I said while pulling him over to my bed to look at what I had picked out. I stopped when I noticed Matt kept trying to cover his crotch with his hands, instantly knowing he was hard. “Are you hard right now Matty?” I teased, causing him to blush deeply.

“Only a little bit. I didn’t touch myself, I promise! I-I do have a vibrator in m-my ass though but it’s not on. I just wanted to edge myself so I could cum more later, ‘m sorry I didn’t a-ask.” he stuttered out, extremely flustered. “Do you have the remote?” I questioned as he was eyeing this one black set, which was mostly just straps. “Yes, and I want this one it’s really sexy.” he blurted out before blushing heavily. The one he picked out was a black leather bra and panties set with a grater belt, the bra was basically just an outline of one as it had nothing covering my tits. It did hold my them up nicely though, just like the panties, which were crotchless, and the garter made my ass look good.

“Can I have control of the vibrator until tonight? You think you can handle that without cumming?” I inquired, wanting to know how far I could take things with him. Matt dug into his pocket before pulling out the remote and handed it to me with an embarrassed smile. “I think I can as long as it’s not on 24/7.” he told me as he grabbed my hand and started nervously playing with the few rings I had on my fingers. “Can I ask you a serious question?” I asked Matt, resulting in him nodding. “I’m not judging you, I just want to know, but you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. Why do you want to be pegged so badly and like having things up your ass? I don’t care if you are, but are you like gay or bi?” I questioned, causing him to drop my hand.

Matt’s face turned a bright red and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before speaking. “N-No, I’m not gay or bi, I don’t find men attractive. I was just young and experimenting one day and figured out how to stimulate my prostate. I wanna get pegged because I’ve seen it on pornhub and it looks really hot.” he said softly. “Plus you’re someone I trust and if I’m being honest, you’re really attractive and you domming me would be the hottest fucking thing in the world to me.” he added, blushing heavily. “Noted. Thanks Matty, that’s all I needed.” I smiled at him before Nick conveniently called for him. This was the perfect time to start teasing him with the vibrator.

After putting the other two lingerie sets away, I walked out to the kitchen, pretending to go back to working on my laptop. I watched as Matt sat down next to Nick on the couch, pulling the small remote out of my pocket I pressed the + button, turning it on to 1, making Matt’s breath hitch a little. He looked up at me with pleading eyes to stop as he was talking to Nick but I turned it up again to 3, making him squirm a bit. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.

Matt’s pov

I regret giving Y/n the remote to the vibrator now because I didn’t think she’d turn it on when I was talking to my fucking brother. I was fine when it was on level 1 but when she turned it up to 3 my brain went a bit foggy, I zoned out a little bit until Nick put his hand on my shoulder. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” he asked, I quickly came up with an excuse. “Yeah I’m fine, my head just hurts a bit.” I lied, looking at Y/n and silently asking her to turn it off, which luckily for me, she did. After talking to Nick, I walked over to her, “Please don’t turn it on when I’m talking to my brother!” I pleaded, but that just made her turn it up to 5 while smirking.

“But doesn’t it feel good Matty?” she asked, I let out a whimper and nodded before walking back to the living room. This went on for the next two hours or so until Nick and Chris left, my boxers were soaked with precum and my dick was so hard. I was laying on my bed and I swear I almost came in my pants when Y/n walked in. She was wearing the lingerie set I picked out along with the strap-on, which was black and matched the set perfectly. The strap-on was definitely smaller than my dick, maybe 5 or 6 inches max, but that was good because I don’t think I could take one that’s upwards of 7 inches.

I started squirming as Y/n stood above me, looking down at me and telling me to get undressed. She already had me take the vibrator out like 15 minutes ago, not that it really mattered. “You’re already being such a good boy for me Matty.” she praised, making me whine a bit as her eyes raked over my body. “I’m ready for you to dom me.” I confessed, causing her to stop staring at my body and smile at me. “Where’s your lube at?” she asked me but I just got it for her instead, “Thank you handsome, can you lay on the bed for me?” she asked sweetly, knowing I was a bit nervous to get pegged and have sex with her in general.

Y/n’s pov

I know Matt said he wanted me to dom him, but I could visibly tell he was anxious and nervous so I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him. “Matty, if it’s too much or it hurts too bad let me know and we’ll stop and cuddle okay?” I said while moving some hair out of his eyes. “I promise I’ll say something.” he replied, “What do you wanna start with first babe?” I asked him, wanting to do things his way. “I want to makeout with you.” he giggled, I hovered over Matt and we started kissing slowly at first, then we started full-on making out. I was sucking on Matt’s tongue and he was letting out the prettiest whiny moans as I ran my hands up and down his sides.

Experimentally, I started ghosting my hands across his nipples, loving the whimper it pulled from him. I pulled back for just a second, “Does that feel good baby?” I questioned while rubbing my thumbs over his nipples before rolling them between my thumb and index finger. “Yeah but please more!” he whined, not making too much sense, “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked as I kissed all over his chest. “Want you to just peg me already. I’m ready mommy.” Matt squirmed. His eyes opened widely when he realized what he just said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-“ he started before I cut him off with a kiss.

“Don’t be impatient baby, mommy will fuck you when she’s ready.” I said sternly as I moved towards his aching cock. I discreetly turned my vibrator onto 2, not high enough to make me cum but just enough to get me more wet. His cock was already covered and dripping with precum, “This really gets you worked up, doesn’t it?” I teased as I grabbed the lube. I squeezed some onto my fingers and circled his puckered hole before slowly slipping one in. “Two fingers please, I can take it.” he whined, I added a second finger and Matt was right, he could indeed take it.

I started scissoring his hole opened before adding some more lube and a third finger causing Matt to whimper. “Too much?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him, “N-No just so full.” he panted out in response. I fingered Matt for a few more minutes until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “I-I think I’m ready mommy.” he said, looking up at me with those innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked as I pulled my fingers out, wiping the rest of the lube off on my thigh. “Really sure, can- can I get it wet with my mouth and control your vibrator, please?” Matt asked nervously.

I handed him the remote and stood up, Matt quickly turned my toy up to 5 which caused me to squirm before he got on his knees. “You look good on your knees baby.” I complimented, making him blush heavily. “How do I um you know, suck dick?” Matt asked, his last two words barely above a whisper. “Well I’m not going to feel anything so you can just do whatever.” I explained, Matt nodded and started to suck on it lightly for a minute as I looked down at him.

He whined and stopped sucking, “I can’t wait, just use lube because I need it now!” he complained, desperately trying not to touch himself. “Okay, get back on the bed for me then.” I said while stroking the side of his face. Once Matt got back on the bed, I put some lube around his hole and onto the strap. “It might hurt baby, so tell me if you need to stop.” “Okay Y/n, please I need you so bad!” he whined. I placed the tip at Matt’s entrance and slowly pushed it in about half way.

Matt let out a choked sob as his hands tightly clenched the sheets and his face held a look of discomfort. “It’s okay Matty, you’re okay.” I soothed him, “P-Put the rest in.” he whimpered. I pushed in the rest of the way before stilling my movements again, not wanting to go too fast. Matt being the sneaky little shit he is, decided to turn my vibrator up to 7, I let out a loud moan as he did so. “Please move.” he groaned quietly, I started pumping at a slow pace as he started to groan a bit.

Even though I was feeling so much pleasure from the vibrator and I wanted nothing more than to start pounding into Matt, I stopped myself because I didn’t want to hurt him. “F-Faster mommy!” he loudly whined, I sped up my movements just a little bit, loving Matt’s whimpers and moans, “Feel good baby?” I panted out. “More! Need more!” he cried out, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Want me to go faster or harder?” I asked, wanting to clarify what he wanted.

“Both, please! Feels so goo—“ he cut himself off with an extremely loud moan as I started fucking into him rougher. “RIGHT THERE! FUCK MOMMY, D-DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed to arch his back more. Even with all the pleasure Matt was experiencing, he was still thinking about me, he turned up my vibrator to 10 which caused me to also join in on his loud moaning.

“Right here Matty? Is that where it feels good?” I asked breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! Please touch my cock, please! Please!” he needily moaned. I started rubbing his cock in rhythm with my thrust as we were both getting closer to the edge. “A-Are you close mommy?” “Very close baby, I just want you to cum first.” I told Matt, speeding up all my movements. “Choke me! Choke me tightly so I can please cum!” he whimpered.

I used my left hand to choke him and a couple seconds later, Matt was painting both our stomachs white with copious amounts of cum, cause me to cum as well and pulled out a him. “M-Matt, vibrator!” I cried for him to turn it off as I was getting overstimulated, “Sorry, sorry.” he apologized out of breath and turned it off my vibrator as I collapsed next to him on my back as we caught our breath.

I took off the strap and I was honestly just going to put it on the floor because I was too tired to clean it right now but Matt took it from me. He licked all my cum off the vibrating side before he put it on the floor and scooped his cum off of me. Matt stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste himself and moaned when I moved to lick the rest of his cum off his body. “You were such a good boy Matty, you did so well.” I praised him as I kissed his neck, sucking a minimal amount of hickies into the skin.

“Thank you Y/n/n, felt so good.” Matt blushed as I stood up to go take another shower “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up real quick.” I said while helping Matt up. I grabbed my clothes and strap-on as well as a pair of socks, boxers and a tshirt for Matt before we went to my room to take a quick shower. When we got out and got dressed we looked at the time to see Nick and Chris would be home soon. As to not be sus, we sat in the living to watch a movie and Matt was now extra clingy.

I’m not complaining, I think it’s cute, I enjoyed it. Matt had his head on my shoulder and I had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. I was playing with his hair when Nick and Chris walked back in and thankfully neither of them said anything. They probably just chalked it up to Matt feeling anxious about something and I comforted him. Both boys simply just plopped down on the couch to watch the movie with us until we all called it a night, Matt ended up sleeping in my room.

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[onlinesuzie]

♡ book exchange with hamzah ♡

words: 1.5k

genre: fluff

summary: You accidentally leave a book with your address inside at a neighborhood book exchange. Hamzah finds it, and loves the story, and decides to return it.

notes: definitely definitely going to be a part 2 or even a part 3. i have more fics coming just been busy <33

☆

You’d always loved the small, quaint book exchange box nestled at the corner of your street. It was a simple wooden structure, painted a cheerful shade of blue, with a glass door that allowed passersby to peek at the stories inside. The idea was straightforward: leave a book, take a book, and in doing so, share stories with your neighbors in an anonymous, yet oddly intimate, way.

One sunny afternoon, you decided to contribute a book that had been sitting on your shelf for a while. It was a well-loved history book, one that had you telling family and friends random facts that had intrigued you. As you slipped it into the box, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at parting with it. There were memories attached to that book, revelations embedded in its pages, but you hoped someone else would find as much interest in it as you had.

What you didn’t realize was that inside the book, tucked between the pages, was a small note you’d written ages ago: ‘Please return to [Your Name].’ It had your address on it—a note meant for a friend who had borrowed the book back in April. You’d completely forgotten about it.

Later that day, Hamzah happened to walk by the book exchange. He was on a bit of a personal mission lately—trying to read more, to step away from the his online life of screens and immerse himself in the kind of stories that didn’t come with thumbnails and clickbait titles. The little book exchange caught his eye, and he found himself slowing down with curiosity.

He opened the box, scanning the titles until one in particular caught his attention. It was your book. The cover was worn, the pages slightly yellowed, but there was a certain charm to it that intrigued him. Without hesitating, he took it with him, eager to dive into something different, something that you could learn from.

Over the next few days, Hamzah found himself completely engrossed in the book. It was exactly what he needed—its knowledge resonated with him in ways he hadn’t expected, offering comfort for his spiralling mind. It was as if the book had been waiting for him, like it was meant to find its way into his hands.

But near the end, just as he was about to finish the final chapter, he discovered the note. ‘Please return to [Your Name]’—along with an address.

He stared at it for a moment, surprised. At first, he wasn’t sure what to do. It felt strange to have this piece of information, like he’d inadvertently stumbled upon something personal. Should he return the book? Or would that be crossing a line? Maybe the note was an accident, and you hadn’t meant for anyone to see it.

Conflicted, he decided to talk about it on his podcast.

“Hey guys, welcome back to the podcast. Wait, actually I’ve got a bit of a weird story for you today,” Hamzah began, leaning back in his chair, the mic positioned just right to catch every nuance of his voice. “Basically, I’ve been trying to read more lately and like, I found this little book box thing in my neighborhood like you know the exchange ones, and I picked up this really cool book. It was like so good like there was so many questions that like I didn’t even have, man like it was good good.”

He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Anyway, so I’m reading this book, really getting into it, and near the end, I find a note tucked inside, and it has someone’s name and address on it. Like, ‘please return to [Your Name].’”

Hamzah laughed, the sound with an edge of uncertainty. “I’ve been sitting here wondering what to do. I mean, part of me thinks I should just take the book back, put it in the box, and forget about it. But the other part of me is like, should I return it? What if this person’s a total freak? Or what if they’re actually cool and I’m missing out on meeting someone who is actually like quite interesting. But then again, maybe it’s just better to let it be.”

He sighed, as if weighing the options in his head. “I don’t know, man. It’s such a random situation. But the book was really good, and I kind of want to thank whoever left it there. It’s like they put something out into the world, and it ended up being exactly what I needed at that moment. But yeah, let me know what you guys think. Should I just drop it? Or should I go knock on their door? Because honestly, I’m kind of leaning towards the like second option, even though it could be super awkward.”

After recording the episode, Hamzah mulled over the decision for a few days. He kept thinking about the book, the connection he felt to it, and, by extension, to you—the person who had unknowingly shared it with him. The more he thought about it, the more he felt compelled to reach out. Not just to return the book, but to express his gratitude and maybe even make a new friend.

Finally, one evening, he decided to go for it. He found himself standing outside your door, book in hand, and his own to share in the other, nerves jangling as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a terrible idea. After a deep breath, he swapped the books to under his arm and knocked.

When you opened the door, you were met with the sight of a young man standing there with a book in his hand. You blinked in confusion, wondering why a guy your age would be at your doorstep, especially one who looked a bit nervous and, oddly enough, familiar.

“Hi,” Hamzah began, offering a hesitant smile. As he looked at you, his words caught in his throat for a moment. He hadn’t expected you to be young—or so beautiful. The way you looked at him, with curiosity and a hint of confusion, made him feel a little more self-conscious, but he pushed through. “I, uh, hope this isn’t too strange, but I picked up this book from the exchange box down the street, and I found a note inside with your address. I don’t mean to be creepy or anything, but I just really liked the book, and I wanted to thank you.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words, before glancing down at the book in his hand. Recognition flashed across your face as you realized what had happened. “Oh! The note... I totally forgot that was in there,” you said, a small, relieved laugh escaping your lips. “I’m glad you liked the book. It’s one of my favorites.”

Hamzah felt a wave of relief wash over him, your friendly response easing his earlier nerves. “Yeah, it really hit home for me,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to read more, and this one just... it was exactly what I needed. I guess I also wanted to meet more people in the neighborhood, and this seemed like a good excuse.”

You nodded, still slightly surprised by the whole situation. As much as you would’ve loved to invite him in, you were just about to head out. “I’m actually on my way out right now, but I’d love to talk more sometime,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. “Here, let me give you my number.”

Hamzah’s eyes lit up as he handed you his phone. “That sounds great,” he replied, trying to hide his excitement. You quickly typed in your number, handing the phone back to him with a smile.

"Actually," he added, handing over his own book to you, "I thought I should bring a book to exchange too. This one's a favorite of mine."

You took the book from him, your fingers brushing slightly against his as you did. The cover looked interesting, and you couldn't help but smile at the gesture. "Thanks. I'll definitely check it out, and keep the book if you want, I’m glad it’s made you happy" you said, slipping the book into your bag alongside your phone.

“Feel free to text me, and maybe we can meet up some time,” you offered, still a bit surprised at how quickly things had unfolded.

“Definitely,” Hamzah agreed, his smile widening as he glanced at the contact you’d saved. “I’m really glad I knocked.”

“So am I,” you said, stepping out and locking the door behind you. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he nodded, still holding the book as he watched you walk away.

As you headed down the street, you couldn’t help but be confused at how insane the whole situation was. And as Hamzah walked back home, your book now tucked under his arm, he couldn’t stop smiling—excited for a message to come through when you were free.