#and then after a while that feeling comes back and im like MAN this music is good! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lunajay33 · 6 months ago

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Waiting🖤

Summary: After decades of being alone without a love of his own he finally finds her in a gloomy town of forks, his brother Edward isn’t the only lucky one

Pairing: Emmett Cullen x f! Swan reader

Warning: angsty, fluffy sunshine Emmett

•Masterlist•

I never thought much about the future until suddenly the friends I adored most started relationships and left me in the past as if our friendship never even mattered, like their boyfriend was the most important thing

My sister and I use to be close as kids but when she moved away with our mom and rarely visited me and dad, who she regularly called Charlie, we grew apart leaving me feeling like I lost all my friends and my sister, after a while I grew depressed and I never wanted to leave the house, dad grew concerned and after many absent calls from school he allowed me to start home schooling myself and my grades have never been better

Most nights it was just me and Charlie some days I’d get the courage to go down to the reserve hang out on the beach with Leah, Seth and Jake, sometimes I’d go for hikes in the forest behind the house just to clear my head, but other than that I’d stay in my room listening to music, reading the books dad would bring home for me, and doing school work

That’s how life was for so many years, it was routine and it never bothered me and dad loved having me around, after Bella and mom left he was so broken and with my help, even as a little girl, I pulled him out of that deep dark hole and he became that Charlie that joked around and made me smile

But then dad got the call that Bella was moving back for the rest of highschool since mom would be traveling with Phil for baseball, hopeful that I could reconnect with my sister again

Dad and I picked out a new bed spread for her hoping she’d love it, and he even let me pick out a new book as a thank you for helping him out with getting everything ready for her arrival, after a few days it was time for dad to go pick Bella up from the airport in port angeles, I was a nervous wreck which was crazy I mean she’s my sister why should I be nervous

Finally the familiar sheriff cruiser pulled up in the drive way, I walked out the door with an umbrella quickly shuffling over to Bella to cover her from the rain knowing how she favoured the warm dry weather, complete opposite of me

“Welcome home Bella!” I smiled as we walked back inside as dad got her bags following closely behind

She shook off her coat and placed her little cactus down on the counter

“You’ve grown so much you’re a year younger but you’re already taller than me” she said as she hugged me

“Come on bells we’ll show you your room!” Dad said as he walked up the stairs with her bags

She settled in for the rest of the day until it was supper time, I set out the table and dished up our meal, dads game playing in the background as we ate

“So are you excited for school on Monday?” I asked

“Not really but atleast I’ll have you there”

“What? No im homeschooled remember”

“Well…..” dad drawled out

“Dad what did you do?” My heart was racing now at the implication

“I thought since Bella’s back now it would be good for you to get out there again, you need some experiences honey”

“But you know I have no one there, no one wants to be friends with me we’ve been over this”

“You might make new friends honey, give give it a chance for your old man” I sighed slumping back in my chair trying to wrap my head around having to socialize again

“Atleast you’ll be with me, dad said since your grades are so good you got bumped up a grade and can have some certain classes together, depending on our courses” that settled my anxiety a little

Bella and dad cleaned up from dinner as I sat out on the porch, in desperate need for fresh air to do its magic, only 2 more days and I’ll be back in a school again, who knows maybe some new kids have arrived and aren’t too set in their groups yet

Monday came quickly and I was a ball of nerves, I glanced in the mirror as made sure my hair was just the way I wanted, wearing a casual outfit, simple flared black leggings, a dark rich blue longsleeve with my old worn out dark brown carhartt jacket, quickly spraying my vanilla perfume

I walked down stairs to meet Bella in the kitchen, she grabbed an apple as she picked up her backpack from the table

“Are you ready to go?” She asked

“Almost can I make a tea quickly?” She nodded and I quickly wiped together a chai tea latte, grabbing my lunch from the fridge and meeting her in the truck dad had gotten for us but since I didn’t have my license, seeing as I never needed one before now, she would be driving us

The drive to school was calming, hearing the steady rain fall against the windshield, pulling into the parking lot everyone stared until we got out, I kept my eyes down as Bella led me to the schools main office

“Okay here’s your schedule, we have math together at the end of the day, the bells about to ring so I gotta head to world history are you good to find your way to chemistry?”

“Oh ummm yeah I’ll be fine”

“Okay see you at lunch” she smiled gently before she left down the hall

Looking at my schedule I memorized the room number hoping it wouldn’t be too hard to find, turning the corner I rammed into what felt like a brick wall, dropping my books I look infront of me to see the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen, his eyes a golden amber, hair as dark as night and his skin as pale as snow

“Sorry about that, I haven’t seen you around before” he said soothingly as he handed me the books that had momentarily scattered the floor, not even realizing he had picked them up, too busy oogling him I suppose

“Oh yeah I’m just re-enrolling here again, just trying to find my class” he looked down at my schedule a striking smile adorning his face

“Come this way gorgeous, got the same class” walking along the mostly bare hallways I noticed his gentle glide, I’ve never seen such a…..well such a perfect human, obviously I was way out of my league if I could think he’d ever be interested in me, I mean I’m plain and simple what would he ever see in me, best I stay in my lane, but dad did want me to make friends so that couldn’t hurt….right?

We got to the classroom and the teacher assigned us to sit together, the class went by pretty boring, every now and then I’d take glances at Emmett and I swear he did the same but he was probably just looking at someone else, moments like this made me wish I was a beautiful as my sister, she never had a problem with guys wanting her, they basically drooled over her, even if she never acted on any offers she was still wanted

It felt like I was a living ghost most days, no one noticed me anywhere I’d go, a big reason I wanted to be homeschooled, now I’m thrown back into this miserable place, I’ll bet by lunch time Bella with have a table full of new friends while I sit alone, not even a second glance from anyone

Lunch time rolled around and as I entered the cafeteria I searched for Bella and just as I guessed she was surrounded with bright smiles, excited to get to know her, she glanced my way and I waved hoping she’d wave me over to sit but she just gave a half assed smile and got back to talking with her new friends, I felt my heart rip at that, thinking things would be different this time with her here but I guess I was wrong

I found an empty table near the windows and made myself comfortable for another lonely lunch, I pulled out my bag from my backpack but my appetite was lost and I had no desire to eat so I just pushed my lunch to the side and looked out the window just wanting to go home

{Emmett’s POV}

I couldn’t get her out of my head, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and her blood sings to me, when she bumped into me in the hallway I felt my whole world shift, she didn’t talk much but just being near her felt right

Lunch came, my least favourite part of the day, having to pretend for an hour, I glanced around the cafeteria hoping to catch a glimpse of my mate again, my eyes landed on her sat alone looking glum a few tables down, the others followed my gaze and smiled knowingly

“Who’s she?” Rosalie asked

“I think she’s my mate”

“Her thoughts are overwhelming loud” Edward stated

“What do you mean?” I asked nervously

“She’s not the happiest girl, I can hear how depressed she is, how unwanted she feels”

“I can feel how broken her heart is” Jasper added

This has to be the worst feeling knowing the one I’m suppose to love unconditionally and she is quite perfect in my eyes, has been broken and feels unloved

I got up from the table and made my way to her sliding in the seat across from her, her eyes were so glazed over with sadness she didn’t even realize I sat down

{Normal pov}

“So how’s your first day?” I jumped snapping out of my thoughts noticing Emmett is sat across from me

“Oh sorry I didn’t see you, ummm today has been fine I guess, thanks again for helping me earlier”

“It’s not problem, umm I was wondering maybe if you’re not too busy this weekend if you’d wanna hang out?” My heart raced at this

“Really? You wanna hang out with me?”

“Yeah of course, who would wanna spend time with the most beautiful girl in the school” his smile warmed my heart but quickly faded at a realization

“Is this a prank, because if it is it’s cruel” I said as my bottom lip wobbled

“No what? I would never do something like that I really wanna get to know you, so how about after school on Friday I’ll meet you in the parking lot and we can go do something?”

“Okay……sure id really like that” his face beamed with excitement

“Perfect it’s a date then gorgeous”

This felt surreal there’s no way there wasn’t a catch here, how could someone wanna spend their free time with me, but like Charlie said it doesn’t hurt to try, I just hope this doesn’t break my heart more

Part 2

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cowboygenesis · 5 months ago

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18+ knuckle up | astarion x reader

summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.

pairing: astarion ancunin x afab!bard!reader tags: 18+, smut, fluff, switch dynamics, m/f, fingering, unprotected sex, resolved tension, playfighting, sex after training session. word count: 7.8k notes: this fic was SO fun to write even if im a gale girlie myself. this is my first attempt at writing ANY bg3 character, so i really hope i did okay. if not, let me know! comments help me improve my writing (and warm my heart, seriously, thanks to anyone taking the time out of their day to comment). anyways gang, no beta as ALWAYS, you know how we roll. ENJOY! masterlist.

It still made little sense to you.

You had honed your skills at the most prestigious music schools in Faerûn for years, pouring your heart into every note, every chord, only to find yourself shamelessly ridiculed for an entirely different kind of performance. And by a man you’d grown to like, no less.

"Get up, darling," Astarion’s voice drips with amusement, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips with infuriating smugness. His crimson eyes watch you with a predatory glint, locking onto your vulnerable form sprawled in the dirt—a definitive result of his frustratingly agile moves.

You groan lowly, propping yourself up on bruised elbows, wincing as a dull ache pulses through your body. A stray lock of hair falls in front of your face, and you blow it away in frustration.

"I’m starting to think this isn’t educational at all." You glare at him with all the venom you can muster, eyebrows furrowed as his arms cross.

Your eyes absentmindedly scan down his body, taking note of his slightly disheveled shirt and tousled hair. He looks… good. Beautiful, even. Basking in the soft moonlight seeping through the vast greenery above, he stands there like he’s in his element.

He chuckles, seemingly unbothered by your vapid tone. "Oh, but it is, my dear. Think of it as a new, humbling experience. Valuable in its own right."

You bite back a retort as he offers you a hand, his expression making your eye twitch. You never thought you’d fall for arrogance, yet ironically it’s your own conceit that might have brewed your upcoming downfall.

After a particularly boisterous night of drinking in camp—brought on by the recent victory over a pack of gnolls—you foolishly accepted Astarion’s challenge to best him in hand-to-hand combat. Your alcohol-addled brain had been more confident than your body, and now, after a series of harsh jabs and sidesteps, you were being taught the harsh reality of “real” combat.

Defeated, you eventually obliged a quick lesson from the master himself, which he had (admittedly suspiciously) made you take after losing your bet.

At the very least, the bruising would rid you of your lingering hangover once you were done taking the thrashing. Plus, you hoped it would bring you two closer. Figuratively and physically.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your hesitation. "Come now, my dear, don’t be so stubborn. You seemed so eager at first,"

"You told me you’d teach me to fight, not fall on my damn face," you lament, but begrudgingly accept his help, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

His grip is firm, and the coolness of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. You had often imagined what holding his hand would feel like during the colder nights alone in your tent, and while the circumstances ended up being less than ideal, it was good enough for you. For now.

You rub at your sore arm with a frown and catch that Astarion, unmistakably, stands completely unscathed, his pale complexion almost glowing in the ambient light.

"I’m thinking…” he muses, glancing at the weathered lyre resting peacefully by the roots of a tree. His lips curl into a smirk, and you can feel the teasing jab sting your pride. “Perhaps you’re better suited to the more... delicate aspects of life,"

Your jaw clenches. While bards famously went underestimated— a fact you were reminded of frequently— it hurt more coming from someone you so badly wanted to fuck.

"Oh, I don’t know," you say with a saccharine tone, brushing the residual dirt from your pants; your favorite pair, yet you’d probably end up having to toss them out after your poor performance today. "I think a harp string could make a fine garrote in the right hands."

Astarion’s laughter rings out clearly, and your heart skips a beat unbeknownst to you. "Dully noted. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re stripped of any weaponry in our current pinnacle."

Your eyes roll, running a hand through your disheveled, sweat-slick hair and adjusting your posture to the one he had taught you: one foot forward, back straight.

"Again," you demand, squaring your shoulders. If he wanted to mock you, fine— but you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight.

Astarion’s eyes widen, but his smirk never falters. He sighs in faux exasperation but quickly matches your posture. "So eager to be tossed into the dirt again, darling."

Your face flashes with heat at his painfully languid remark, your mind going places it probably shouldn’t. You knew the pet names were simply an inherent part of his vocabulary and that he used them generously, with everyone, yet a part of you liked to imagine they were reserved for you, and you only.

“Try me again,” you reply curtly, lowering your gaze as you feel the tension sprawling through your aching body.

He shoots you an arrogant smirk, his gaze penetrating your soul with an intensity you didn’t think possible. He bares his fangs, licking over his bottom lip lazily. “Let’s see it, then.”

Astarion approaches, but this time, you’re ready. As he moves to close the distance, you anticipate the first jab, ducking low before he can catch you off-guard. You dart to the side, aiming a swift thrust toward his midsection. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, but it seems to work.

Your fist connects with his toned stomach. He topples off-balance, but only for a fleeting second. His reflexes are too sharp, too honed through his century-long life for you to overcome with your pitiful attempt.

He catches himself with a graceful pivot, turning the stumble into a curt spin that has him facing you once more.

"Fast learner, are we?" he muses, watching you closely through his fists. "I might actually have to try now."

"Don’t flatter yourself," you shoot back, heart racing. At that moment, you recognize you can’t win. Not this time, probably not the next. But you don’t want to forfeit, even if it means enduring a day or two of terrible muscle soreness.

Every sidestep, every deflected blow, brings you closer, the air between you growing heavy with static. You aren’t sure if it’s the heat of the fight or the dangerous proximity, but you can feel it—an irresistible, undeniable pull.

"Careful now," Astarion purrs as you barely miss his face with a rugged swing. He catches your wrist, holding it tight as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear. "You wouldn’t want to harm me, would you?"

You swallow hard, your body tensing under his tight grip. The closeness is intoxicating, but you force yourself to stay focused, pushing back against the growing heat in your chest.

"Maybe I would." You don’t.

For a moment, neither of you move. The world seems to narrow, the charged atmosphere thick with tacit suspense. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, senses sharp, attuned to every breath he takes as they intermingle with yours.

"Darling," a dramatic pout creeps onto his lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin seconds later. You feel his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to slip free. It’s a calculated move, once he grants you himself. "You wound me with your words."

You take a step back, breathless. This isn’t over, not by a long shot, yet your muscles fight against that thought. They scream at you with pain, worn and stretched by what feels like hours of sparring.

“Sounds like you’re the one trying to wound me,” you taunt, shooting him a lowered gaze. “Why’d you take me out here? Trying to make your next kill less obvious?”

The vampire had insisted you two train away from the bustle of camp, even if it meant missing out on tonight’s feast. While the rest of your companions enjoyed the finest ale Baldur’s Gate could offer, you were stuck trying to prove something to your crush.

Astarion's grin widens, his eyes flashing with amusement as he takes a slow, calculated step forward. “Now, now,” he purrs, voice dripping with mock innocence. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen it coming— no need for childish theatrics.”

You hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight tremble in your legs from the strain of the sparring—or maybe it’s from something else entirely, you can’t be sure. You know he’s dangerous, that this game you’ve been playing with him has always had its sharp edges. But there’s something about that edge, about the way he dances so easily between teasing and threatening, that weakens your knees and makes you breathless every damn time.

"Then why are we here?" you challenge, taking a step back to match his forward one. Your voice is steady, but your pulse is hammering in your throat. The woods feel like a world apart from camp, the sounds of chatter distant as you sit in your isolated little bubble of the world. “It’s a little… intimate, don’t you think?”

Astarion tilts his head, studying you with a curious twinkle in his crimson eyes. “That sharp tongue again,” he says quietly, “Do you truly believe I’d go through all the trouble of bringing you out here just to end you? If I wanted your death, I’d make it enjoyable for both of us.”

Your breath catches at his words. His words drip with venom, but somewhere deep down, in the depths of his blackened heart, you swear you feel an instance of temptation.

“What’s the game then?” you ask, holding his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in your chest. “Because by the Gods, I know you love those.”

Astarion’s smirk softens, but the intensity in his eyes never falters. He steps closer again, until there’s barely any space between you, his presence intoxicating. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re capable of,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d let me push you before you push back.”

His hand hovers near yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, but he doesn’t make full contact.

“And maybe,” he continues, leaning in just enough that his breath grazes your cheek, “I’m curious what could happen once we both stop playing.”

Your heart is racing now, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the sparring or the charged air between you that’s making your head spin a hundred miles an hour.

“You’ll never know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with a boldness you don’t quite feel. “Because I’m not backing down from this.”

His grin widens at your rebellion, and with a swift, fluid motion, the man’s playful smirk turns into a vicious one. Before you can react, he spins you around, movements smooth and practiced, making you lose your balance.

Your back hits his chest, and within seconds he wraps one arm around your neck in a tight headlock— his grip is firm, but not painful. Your mind strays to his other arm, feeling it press against your waist to keep you securely against him.

“Such a feisty little thing,” he purrs into your ear, his breath warm against your sweat-slick skin.

You struggle against his hold, trying to twist free, but his grip is relentless. “Fuck you,” you manage to scowl, though the words are strained by the pressure on your throat.

Astarion chuckles softly, and you feel it reverberate through your body. “Oh, she bites back,” he teases, his voice a dark, seductive buzz. “Are you taunting me, darling?”

You try to shift your weight, to find a way out of the headlock, but his grip doesn’t waver. “You’re projecting,” you growl breathlessly.

“And you’re persistent,” he replies, “Suits you well.”

You feel a warmth spread through your belly, tickling your nerve endings and making your thighs squeeze. You thank the Gods he can’t see your flustered face right now.

And suddenly, he releases. Not fully, but his grip weakens enough to allow you a moment to slip out again, stumbling over your own feet as you face him.

“Here’s your second freebie,” he chuckles, getting into position again. “Careful, next one might come at a price.”

“Like I need a third one,”

You recalibrate, then in the spur of the moment, pounce. Your arms extend as they barrel toward him. His eyes widen, but he manages to catch them mid-air; his hands clasping into yours and pushing against you.

“Fair strategy,” he commends, and you sense it might at least be partially earnest. “Desperate, but fair.”

You strain against him, breath hitching when he periodically pushes back. Whenever he does, you feel his gaze boring into you with a crazed intensity.

Then, you try not to think about the fact your digits fit together really damn well— and fail. Take what you can get, right?

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he sneers, slender fingers tightening around your palm. He leans in, your chests threatening to collide. “Getting distracted?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in with your full body weight, but he barely budges. “You wish,” you shoot back breathlessly.

“I feel it,” he corrects in a whisper, leaning in just enough that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear. “It’s in your eyes. You’re not even thinking about our little lesson anymore, are you?”

Your breath hitches at his words, the undoubted truth in them cutting through the haze in your mind. He’s right. The bet, your lesson —somewhere along the lines, your sparring posture went lax. All that matters to you now is the palpable closeness, your hands in his, and his hot, idle breath on your neck. Your throat threatens to cast a strained groan, but you withhold.

“I—” you start to protest, but your voice falters. His chest is now pressed flush against yours, pushing you forward.

“Admit it,” he murmurs, his voice low, seductive. “And I’ll let you win.”

Your hands tremble in the small space they lock with his, the smoldering red of his gaze telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing—how his actions leave you a mess in body and soul.

“I won’t, I— I can’t,” you manage to stutter, but the words sound weak and unconvincing even to your own weary ears.

He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through you like a slow current. “Liar,” he whispers, and you catch a glimpse of his pearly fangs in your hazed peripherals. “Not a good one, either. Another thing I should school you on.”

Your eyes roll, but the implication accelerates the growing tension within your guts. “Just how generous you are.”

His head tilts gradually, and you go pale as you catch his tongue running along the length of his bottom lip.

“No, darling,” he purrs, “I haven’t shown you generous just yet.”

And then, you catch his eyes darkening. There’s a certain mania to them when they widen, pupils blown out like a cat’s when he suddenly pushes firmly against you. Your feet stumble backward, staring into him as a wild grin plasters on his face.

You yelp when you lose balance, lips ajar and eyes closed shut as you feel your back crash into something soft, or at least, soft enough to leave you un-bruised.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s on top of you. You study his broad shoulders, the pale neck between them, and finally let your half-lidded gazes connect in a silent, tension-filled juncture.

The ambiance of dusk quiets down to a soft murmur, crickets chirping in the distance as his strong body hovers inches above you, hands placed firmly around your wrists to successfully lock you in place.

“Seems to me you’ve lost our little bet,” he purrs out, and your breath hitches as one of his legs slides between yours, slowly inching to put a distance between your knees.

All you can do is stare up at him hungrily, desperately, drinking in his weathered features and pray he’d let you run your fingers through his flaxen locks at some point in the night.

“No clever retort? That’s not the little bard I know and love,” he teases, and your hips almost buck into him at that one word. You know he doesn’t mean it, yet your teeth still clench when your body jolts in response to his familiar lilt.

“You’re playing dirty,” you finally breathe out, cringing at how strained your voice sounds as you lie under his weight.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” he retorts, his crimson gaze boring into you before gradually disappearing into your neck.

His lips hover over your skin, hot breath tickling the soft spot near your pulse point as you gasp quietly. You feel him hesitate, arms tensing and releasing over your own as if soaked in apprehension. You strain your muscles, eyes shutting in preparation for the inevitable, sharp bite coming onto your poor vein. Gods, was this his plan all along?

But then, you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.

Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly catch the tousled white locks in your neck as the vampire looms over you.

“Here’s your chance to run,” he hitches, and somehow he sounds just as out of breath as you do.

You lie on the blanket of moss, chest heaving and gaze tracing languidly over the treeline as you feel your body go limp. He’s giving you one last opt-out before… before something happens, be it a bloody massacre or... Or?

Your mind shrieks at you: take advantage, prove yourself on top in this stupid bet— but the little voice in your heart urges you to stay under his firm body; find out if your instincts rang true after all.

You stay. Not only that, but you let your hands slip out of his, one of them snaking down his shoulder while the other runs through his waves. They’re silky, and soft, and when you catch a whiff of rosemary in the air, your grip tightens.

“Astarion,” you whisper, voice surprisingly steady as your heart beats a constant rhythm into the space between you.

His body jerks abruptly, albeit subtly, and you feel him smirking— smiling— into the soft flesh of your neck. “So I was right, after all.”

His face withdraws from you slightly, the residual condensation of his warm breath leaving you shivering. You catch his gaze, half-lidded and scanning your expression with apt concentration.

“Feisty, spirited little thing,” he continues, inching towards you again.

Your stiff body jerks, grazing against him as your shaky hand snakes to his cheek. You cradle it gently but with urgency, and there’s a beat of silence before you finally understand what to do.

You inhale softly, catch his questioning gaze, and crash your lips onto his.

He groans softly when you meet in the middle, lowering himself with his arms. Your chest thrums with the beat of your heart, shooting waves of dopamine down your worn spine.

When you feel his nimble hand on your jaw, your lips part with a sigh. He matches your buzz with his own self-satisfied murmur, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

You smile. He’s sweet and bitter, and you whine gently into the kiss when you recognize brandy on his tongue.

This is what you’ve been waiting for all these lonesome months.

The culmination dawns on you like a powerful current, making your eyes squeeze and your hands tremble in his waves.

He seems to notice your tremor, but instead of slowing down or (Gods forbid) stopping, he dives deeper. You moan into his mouth as he wriggles a hand around your waist, holding you close to his hips and suddenly, you feel a steady pressure grinding into your crotch.

The movement is slow, precise, practiced. His hips buff into yours in a controlled rhythm, making you sense his already taut erection through the thick material of his linen pants.

“Do you get it now, darling?” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stare lazily into your glassy eyes. “Look what you do to me.”

His hand snakes to your blouse, and before you can register what’s happening, you hear three ivory buttons pop off followed by the cool, evening breeze tickling your heated skin. You don’t need to open your eyes to know your nipples are standing taut in the chilly air, yet the image makes you redden.

“How— how unceremonious,” you croak out, moaning softly when his large hand begins palming at your right breast.

His thumb and forefinger squeeze at your erect nipple, toying with it in smooth, tactile movements and relishing the way his name sounds coming out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“Mm, forgive me,” he chuckles darkly, planting a quick, ardent kiss on your lips before lowering his face to your chest. His tongue licks a slow, tender strip up your sternum before he looks up to smile at you; it’s a genuine look of satisfaction, untouched by the plague that is his faux arrogance. “I’ll make sure to be good next time.”

’Next time?’

You look at him lazily, gaze puzzled and lips ajar to ask but he doesn’t even offer you the chance. His hand dips from your tits to the band of your pants, sliding underneath it with his finger, the coolness of his skin making you gasp.

His mouth assaults your other nipple with sucks, nibbles, and gentle bites, making you mewl under him as his hand continues to travel down the soft flesh of your thigh. He rubs it gently, lovingly, starting under your hip and slowly stroking his way toward the inner region, where you’re most sensitive.

“Divine,” he mumbles against your chest, pressing a kiss to your rib. “So divine.”

His free palm moves to your exposed belly, massaging it gently. You sigh at the slow, consistent pressure, moving your trembling hand to the back of his neck.

When your one eye pops open in curiosity, you see him snug against your body, face contorted with empathic fixation as he labors down your body. It’s intimate, yes, but also… loving. His tongue is warm against your breast, and his palms caress your skin with slow, delicate strokes; the same hands you’ve seen wield blood-soaked daggers and longbows.

He runs two digits along the stretchy fabric of your bottoms, lip caught between his teeth. He catches you staring and smirks up at you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he husks out, and you’re desperate enough to nod wordlessly.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, hand smoothing down the waistband of your panties that peers from behind your bottoms. Not even your cutest pair, but oh well. He doesn’t even seem to notice, as his digits play with the elastic.

You’re already so exposed, but nothing can prepare you for what he does next.

With a few more kisses to your breasts, he tugs at the two waistbands, pulling down your pants and panties in one go.

The material slides off your legs and you hiss out, feeling the coolness caress your slick core. Your hands instinctively reach to cover up, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a strong grasp around your wrist.

“Oh no, no,” He looks up at you with an arched eyebrow, and somehow, despite his collected mien, you catch a soft dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Don’t you dare deny me this view. Not after I’ve waited for so long.”

Your face heats up at the brazen comment, but that only seems to draw him closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and he takes the hint immediately.

You connect in a heated kiss, and this time, Astarion is the one groaning against you. You work in tandem, like a gentle, effortless dance, heavy breaths intermingling in a sweet symphony of hums and sighs when…

You feel a touch against your heat. The contact is almost impalpable, yet your eyes flutter open in shock as the man’s fingers trace over your slit.

He withdraws from your kiss, hovering inches from your lips with a soft smile.

“S’unfair,” you slur, gazing up at him with a pleasure-drunken gaze. He exhales loudly, and you gasp. His fingers dip in, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “You— Gods—”

“Yeah? Tell me,” he taunts lowly, continuing his torturously languid movements with a devious smirk plastered on his perfect face. “What’s got you so bothered, my sweet?”

He dips down, teasing your entrance with his index. You pant softly at the prolonged stimulation, trying your damn best to stay focused on furrowing your eyebrows in mock anger.

“Got me so exposed and—” you trail tensely as his finger probes your entrance. “—And you’re still in your damn clothes.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but you doubt he’s even listening to you by how he surveys your body, bottom lip caught between his fangs. “I’m about to show you ‘generous’, like I promised.”

And then, he bottoms out. You moan, feeling two of his digits sliding into you, the slickness of your opening making it an easy feat.

You squeeze around him, and he pumps into you once, then twice for good measure. The sound of his movements is unbelievably and utterly obscene, making your stomach knot in delight.

“So wet already,” he purrs through a smirk, watching you writhe under him, “Don’t tell me our little sparring session got you this bothered.”

You roll your eyes, thighs squeezed tight around his wrist as you move your hips in tandem with his rhythm.

“Come on, talk to me,” he taunts again, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and letting his fingers fuck you in a steady, purposeful rhythm. “Now’s not the time to get coy.”

He switches gears, stopping his movement so he can curl his fingers inside you. He presses against the sweet spot, his thumb reaching to simultaneously rub slow circles against your swollen clit.

You cry out at the newfound pressure, the warmth in your belly twisting into a vortex of fiery delight.

“I—” you mewl against him, wrapping your fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna— c-cum—”

His movements quicken at your desperate words, digits working hard against your favorite spot.

“Cum then, my darling,” he taunts firmly, his free hand roaming under your jaw and holding it in place. “Cum for me. Let me— let me look at you, sweet thing.”

Your glassy eyes struggle to focus on his face, but once they do, he hits something white-hot inside you.

His lips crash desperately onto yours, but you struggle to kiss him back through the blinding pleasure of your climax. It thunders down your legs, up your belly, making you cry out against his mouth as everything melts away into a wonderful oblivion.

The last thing you see before your muscles go lax is red.

He rubs your clit methodically through your high, letting you ride it out peacefully as he burrows into your neck again.

When your breath steadies, you feel his fingers slowly withdraw. The emptiness that follows makes you cry out softly, helplessly watching as the man runs his palms up and down your sides.

He presses a soft, soothing kiss against your swollen lips, and you can’t help but glare when you see that he’s still fully dressed, even after your heated orgasm.

He catches your pouting and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, darling?” he purrs, pulling away to take you all in. You’re caught speechless when his hungry gaze scans down your nude body; starting at your smitten face and ending with a lingering glimpse at your spent pussy.

“Please,” you mewl out, raking your hands down his clothed abs. “Gods— Please take these off, I can’t—”

He does.

His hands momentarily withdraw from around you, and with a swift, deft move, he tosses his shirt off.

The silken cloth comes flying into the night like a phantasmal figure, and you watch it catch onto a stray branch to your right.

Your gaze skims hungrily down his sculpted body, watching his muscles tense and release with every little movement. Yes, you’ve seen him shirtless before, yet the context of your current predicament somehow makes it feel like it’s the first time all over again.

Unbeknownst to you, his hands work at his bottoms, swiftly unbuttoning the waistband and letting it sit loose against his hips. You catch a soft, white trail against the edge of his undergarments, leading down to a straining, tented mess below.

Your hand reaches out absent-mindedly, still drunk off the high of your climax and so, so desperate to finally feel him for yourself.

“Not so fast, darling,” he scolds, gently slapping your hand away and letting it wither at your side.

“Let me touch you,” you retort desperately, but he only chuckles as his fingers begin working at his waistband.

“You lost our bet,” he explains, sliding a thumb under the elastic and letting it lower. You catch the very base of his straining erection, and that taunting alone makes you gasp. “Gives me the upper hand.”

“Says who?” you hiss under your breath, failing to give him the glare he deserves as your eyes bore into his.

He gives you a once over, gaze drawing languidly over your exposed body, and only then does the extent of your nudity finally dawn on you.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

You shift under him, shimmying within the small space he allows, and he takes your brief distraction as a moment to unravel his pants completely. They drop to the ground behind you, leaving him in his undergarments, and you bite your lip at how dangerously lax they sit around his hips.

“I think I’ve left you waiting long enough,” he mutters, and your lips go ajar.

The thumb hooked into his briefs starts sliding down his waist, lower and lower until you’re finally even in terms of undress— and you’re ever so starstruck by the sight of his bulging cock hovering over your belly. It stands thick and taut within arm’s reach and you find the fact makes your mouth water.

Then, before you can think of touching him, you feel him place either hand below your knees. He looks up at you with a sly smirk, and you gasp softly when he pushes your thighs flat against your torso, feet in the air and scandalously exposed in front of him.

“You’re playing with me,” you mutter breathlessly, hissing as you feel his length stroking against your inner thigh.

His arms compress you tighter as you feel him lowering, the underside of his cock slapping against your tummy. The gasp that leaves your throat at the sudden contact widens your eyes, and he catches your gaze with his self-satisfied one.

“Do you like that I’m playing with you?” he follows up without a beat, his hips rutting forward. The movement is gentle, yet the pressure is enough to make you whine out in desperation— it’s also the only answer you manage to choke up for him before his cock slides between your wet folds.

“A-Ah— you fucking— fucking prick,” you hiss at the vampire, and so he bears his fangs at you through a wide grin. You find that it makes your breath hitch even amidst your despair.

“Now, now,” he reprimands, words syrupy, “bold words coming from someone so vulnerable.”

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your legs as he slides back and forth, taking meticulous care so that the head of his cock butts against your clit with every dip. The stimulation feels electric, and soon enough, you feel your still-sensitive body ramp up with heated energy for a second time this night.

A minute passes, yet it feels like an eternity. The air between you is thick with tension and the soft, repetitive harmony of your strained moans and his little gasps. You watch his eyes close in concentration, and despite his otherwise relaxed facade, you can tell he’s struggling to resist you by the way his eyebrows knit in the middle.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out, one of your hands extending to claw at his withholding forearm.

When your gazes meet, he looks surprisingly spent; eyes glassed-over, mouth ajar, and the slightest hint of sweat glazing his pale forehead. You realize that his domineering act seemed to come at the expense of his stamina: a resource you had slowly replenished in your comfortable position.

“Not— not yet, darling,” he hitches out, but the words appear tender and helpless to your trained ears. “I— I want to enjoy this— enjoy you—”

Your grip on his forearm tightens, making the bucking of his hips stutter. His eyebrow raises at your touch, but before he can shoot you a witty comment, you’re pushing him forward.

It happens within seconds.

Your knees straighten, feet slamming into his abdomen. He coughs at the sudden, unexpected impact, and you take the opportunity to grab tight onto his forearms. He falls backward, and just before his spine hits the soil beneath, you use the momentum to push yourself onto him.

When his eyes flutter open, you’re straddling his waist.

He blinks in brief confusion, surveying his surroundings before the crimson gaze finally turns to you.

He surveys your face, and you let him. The moment is like a silent meditation, heavy breaths intermingling as he takes your raw beauty in; the longing in your eyes, the soft dusting of pink across your nose, and ultimately, the plush of your lips he had ravaged mere moments ago.

Next, he moves to your body. His eyes scan down your taut nipples, down your tummy, and to the softness of your thighs squeezing his midriff to the ground. When he reaches the junction between your bodies, your hips buck as if on instinct.

“My, just how courageous we are,” he purrs under you, hands reaching to rub down the outside of your thighs. “I wouldn’t be so nice about your dirty tricks if I didn’t find this view thoroughly delectable.”

You shiver at his honeyed words, yet your gaze stays determined on him. Your palms go to rest atop his, marveling at the eccentric softness of his knuckles and the polarizing edge of the nails.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” you grin playfully, rocking your hips back to feel his hard length against the curve of your ass. When a soft hiss escapes his lips, you feel your ego inflate. “Sound familiar?”

His eyes roll, but the grin creeping onto his lips deceives him immediately.

His head tilts at you, fangs bearing in the soft moonlight. “You’re trouble.”

The mischief of your smile spins into a warm fondness. Your cheeks warm, and your heart swells, but you don’t quite understand why. “Oh how rich that is coming from you.”

And then you’re rising on your knees, hips hovering over his throbbing erection. Your palms connect, digits intertwining with his as you lower yourself onto him.

You test the waters first, letting his tip brush over your slit with feather-like touches. You hum gently at the teasing pleasure, and so does Astarion.

When you feel your tummy tightening with anticipation, you dive in. With a light shimmy, you line your hips with his, and with more desperation than you planned, you slide down.

You both hiss as the head of his cock penetrates you, the stretch making your palm tighten against his. You bend at the knees, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim after such a long, lonesome time.

Finally, you let your hips slam against his. The sudden, harsh movement makes you gasp out into the tantric air as his tip pokes against your womb. The dull pain quickly shifts into a flat, resonant pleasure, and you waste no time.

Your hips begin to buck against his, building a slow, steady rhythm until you’re confidently riding your vampire lover with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips.

Each thrust makes you mewl, moan, and cry out into the night, that pleasant angle of his cock hitting that same spot his fingers did just minutes ago.

His head rolls back into the ground, and with the remnants of his energy, he issues an occasional, quick rut into you. As it’s rare, you decide to savor it. You squeeze around him with the thrusts, and soon, you feel yourself running out of breath.

“I— I could let you do this for—hells— forever,” he hisses out, and suddenly, you feel his hands unclasp from yours and snake around your waist. “Where have you been all these centuries?”

Your upper body is dragged forward, your tits colliding with his toned chest when he pulls you into a tight, possessive embrace.

You gasp at the warmth between you, and your eyebrows soon furrow when you realize the position limits your hip movement. As you’re forced into a pause from your delirious riding, his lips crash onto yours.

Your tongues share a private, slack dance, heads tilting to adjust as you both hum and groan into the fiery kiss. You attempt to rut into him, and soon enough he gets the hint.

Keeping you immobilized against his chest, his hips pound up into you. The first few smacks are scandalously loud, and you revel in the newfound angle.

You’re lost in him, completely and utterly. When he moans, you respond with a hum— when his embrace tightens around you, you kiss him harder.

The familiar, fiery heat in your tummy bubbles up again. You feel it amp up, grow, and send jolts up your spine when suddenly, you’re being pushed up. When your eyes flutter open, you catch his still closed.

His chest stays firm against yours as he positions you upright, letting you straddle his hips as you’re both left sitting in the soft patch of grass and wildflowers.

With your body regaining its mobility, you start grinding against him again. The position allows for a deliciously intimate closeness, his cock burrowing deep into you as you resume riding him.

The pressure within you grows, emerging as a knot— threatening to unravel with every other thrust. Your clit rubs against the base of his groin, amplifying the pleasure into a sensation you’ve long forgotten about.

“A-Astarion—” you mewl out between kisses, and his hot breath tickles your face when he chuckles.

“Cum for me,” he sighs out, and the assertion comes off soft and pleading as it settles into the groves of your heart.

“O-Okay— I… I—”

He tightens his hold on your waist with one hand, as the other moves to cradle your cheek. His touch is unbelievably delicate and affectionate, and out of all the stimulation he had so graciously provided you this night, it’s that soft touch that sends you over the edge.

Your lips connect in one last kiss, and you moan throatily into his mouth. Your hips still, thighs squeezing as your pussy tightens around his cock in a moment of pure bliss. The steadily rising pressure in your belly finally tips over, sending a wave of bliss down your entire being.

Still, he keeps moving. You almost want to scream against him as his hips begin pounding into you again, the soft slaps quickening as he slowly peaks with you.

Withdrawing from the kiss to lean against your neck, he cums. Hard.

Your slowly declining climax seems to slam the gas pedal as you feel him release deep into you, the warmth spreading through your body like a genial embrace, a fact that makes him groan loudly against your mouth. Your breath stills in your throat, before finally releasing into a long, guttural moan— it echoes into the night, and your vision blurs.

White-hot bliss envelops your body, and you melt into Astarion’s for solace. You feel him grip you, caress your face, kiss away your adrenaline-fueled tears, and pant softly against your lips as your pussy spasms again.

Your orgasm envelops you in slow, pulsating waves as it withdraws, and you’re soon left huffing into the vampire’s flaxen locks. You think you hear him speak, but the ringing in your ears is too potent to know for certain.

Then, as the ringing finally retires, you hear him whisper your name. It’s a soft, patient call against the burning skin of your neck, one you commit to memory as you’re finally awarded your senses back— if only partially.

The forest feels exceptionally silent as you fall into his arms. You recognize the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, perhaps a distant hoot of owls, but it all seems to blend into an indecipherable blur as exhaustion floods your system.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, and your mind sinks into the soft, languid thumps of his heart. His hand caresses your back, and you sigh deeply.

You sit there for what feels like hours, drinking each other in. You’ve waited so long, and finally, you’re at ease— it’s a feeling you wish to cherish, and if it wasn’t for the pesky passage of time, you’d choose to stay in this damned forest for eons; with him.

You feel him shift against you. His hands withdraw from your waist, and he whispers softly against you. “Come, my love.”

You hum in disagreement, face burrowing deeper into him. Yes, rosemary and brandy— now it’s clear to you.

He exhales sharply, and you smile into his neck. He waits for a beat, before placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Wait here.”

You nod gently and finally allow him to withdraw. The separation makes you sigh, your body shivering in the newfound cold of the night, but you persevere. In the longing to hold on to the moment for a little longer, you keep your eyes closed and hope he’ll return before you open them again.

You hear him shuffle around, walking from left to right, before finally returning to face you. “Hands up,” he mutters softly, and you do as you’re told in your pleasure-drunken stupor.

You feel him drape something silken over your sweat-slick body, the soft material draping your hips before coming to a stop at your thighs. When you breathe in, you immediately realize it’s not your shirt, so you grin.

When you’re comfortably wrapped up, he leans in. Once you finally sense the familiar warmth of his chest, you lean against his shoulder and breathe in his scent.

You’re surprised he does this for you. Tenderness is not exactly something you’d connect with a man of his past, of his skill. Yet, when his hands move to rest under your knees and back, you don’t resist.

He lifts you off the ground, letting your fatigued frame rest against him. He takes it upon himself to get you back to camp, safe and sound, and only slightly perturbed.

You drink in everything you can, letting yourself be greedy for once. The steadiness of his breath, his warm chest, the crinkling of leaves under his feet— it’s an image you swear to place, no matter what difficulties might threaten to befall you in the future.

And he’s silent up until you reach the campgrounds. The chatter of dinnertime has long died down, and when you open your eyes, you spot the crackling embers of firelight flickering away among a circle of stones. The flames cast a soft, warm light onto the closed tents, and you revel in the intimacy of the moment.

“Everyone met their bedtime while we’ve been naughty sneaking out,” he murmurs with a chuckle, and you close your eyes hurriedly in hopes of feigning slumber. Still, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face at his brazen comment.

You reach the outskirts and finally spot his tent just below an old, sturdy oak tree. You recall the talks you had out front so many times before, back when your feelings were just sparks of something much stronger and much, much warmer.

He crouches down and with an unsurprising agility climbs into the little shelter with you still in his arms. You lie slack against him, letting his arms lay you gently onto his woolen mat. You melt into the warmth almost immediately, sighing out dreamily when you feel his presence beside you.

It’s silent for a moment, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you catch him staring at you. His gaze is thoughtful but warm, lingering over your form with a certain glimmer.

“I guess it’s official, then,” you sigh out, closing your eyes again and letting a lazy smile drift over your features.

He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “What… what is?”

You chuckle softly at his awkward tone, shifting to the side and letting one of your eyes pop open to glance at him.

“My victory,” you state matter-of-factly before quickly shifting to your other side, facing away from him just to let a satisfied grin creep onto your face.

You don’t witness it, but his expression goes from tense, to disconcerted, to irritated in a matter of seconds. His eyes roll, and you suddenly feel a flat slap against your ass.

“Woah there, hey!” you gasp, followed by a cheeky giggle. Your head turns to face him from your comfortable position, and you catch him mirroring your grin.

“Quiet, now,” he commands softly, pivoting to lie beside you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Bet’s over, darling. I’m sorry to say, but you’ve not proven yourself capable. Shame, really.”

You blow a raspberry through your smile and shimmy closer to him, your body melting perfectly into his— a fact that has you near to falling asleep.

“Shame indeed. The look on your face was priceless when you ate dirt,” you shrug nonchalantly, “At least that’s the version I’ll be telling everyone come morning.”

He scoffs, the low rumble of it vibrating against your back, but his arm only tightens around you. You feel his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“If you do that, I might just have to kill you,” he mutters, but despite the intensity of the words, his voice is soft and loving against your head. His hand drifts to your belly, fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin there.

“You would never.”

He’s silent for a beat. Your lips open to build on your clever retort before you feel his sharp exhale on your neck.

“Sleep, darling,” he reprimands, squeezing your midriff gently.

You sigh contentedly, your lips brushing against the pillow as you settle deeper into his embrace. The tent is cocooned in warmth, but you feel the cool kiss of the evening breeze filtering in through the small opening at the entrance. Outside, the campfire crackles faintly, the last embers glowing like distant stars before fading into fine ash.

As you drift closer to sleep, wrapped in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the world around you blurs into the peaceful haze of near-dreams.

Just as the veil of slumber begins to pull you under, you feel his lips press against your hair, a soft whisper brushing against your skin.

“As long as I'll live, I never could.”

913 notes · View notes

starsinthesky5 · 3 months ago

Text

husband & dad joe burrow (headcannons) || joe burrow x reader

description: little things about husband joey and dad joey

a/n: ahem, the bitch is back 🗣️🗣️ it’s been three long weeks of no fics but im here ;) this was a request i got! i’ve been in my dad/husband joe feels lately and UGH. i can’t. i just felt the urge to write this and get it out asap because he’s just had me in a mood lately that like 🤰🤗

side note- the next part of nothings gonna hurt you baby is coming! thanks for your patience loves 💞

word count: 8.6 k (i got carried away lol)

warnings: fluff, allusions to sex

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husband joe

joe always wakes you up with little kisses in the morning. he knows you hate alarms because of how startling they can be, so instead, he presses his gentle lips against the soft skin of your face to ease you into waking up. his trail of kisses always starts on your jawline and ends at your lips, he hits every single spot that he knows you love to be kissed at. you usually wake up midway through his little gesture, but you love the feeling of his lips on you too much so you only open your eyes when he’s done. he always has this lazy look on his face, his voice raspy and scratchy, his hair all messy and soft. he’s so adorable when he wakes up, and even cuter when you open your eyes because his smile gets bigger. “morning, princess,” he mumbles before leaning in for another kiss. you wouldn’t want to be woken up any other way

joey always makes your morning coffee for you. he says “can’t have wifey walking around all cute and snuggly but acting like zombie,”. you never have to ask him to do it for you, he just knows. he knows exactly what kind of coffee you want, how many splashes of creamer, and specifically what mug you like to have it in. it was a little souvenir mug you got during your honeymoon from the almafi coast in italy. sometimes he'll even warm the mug before pouring the coffee, just so it's extra cozy. those little things he did for you were your absolute favorite. you really didn’t need anything else in the morning, just joey and his perfectly brewed, as he called it, "love in a cup"

during the off season, he’d even make you breakfast every morning—regardless of whether he had something going on that he had to do. it was a routine for you during those months, walking down the stairs to the smell of cooked bacon and freshly chopped fruits while he was flipping pancakes on the griddle. you’d make your way downstairs, sit on the kitchen island, and just watch him like a lovesick fool, his bare back to you as he worked away, humming softly to the music in the background. he enjoyed making you breakfast with the soft melodies of sweet, classic love songs playing. some of his favorites were “it had to be you” by frank sinatra, “hopelessly devoted to you” by olivia newton-john, and “look after you” by the fray. you loved to see him like this, so normal, simple…so husband. seeing him doing something so simple and domestic made your heart swell. he was in total "husband mode" according to you when he was cooking

and whenever he put that chef's apron over his bare chest...let's just say the pancakes didn't always turn out as perfect as they could. it didn't take long for his attention to shift--especially when he caught you looking at him a certain way. before you knew it, the pancakes would burn and he'd be too distracted by other things to care ;)

joey is such a cuddle monster in private. the man cannot keep his hands off you when you’re alone together. you thought you had seen the peak of his cuddle monster ways when you were dating, but it only got worse after you got married. he just needed to have his head lying on your chest or burrowed in your neck. he loved to have his legs tangled with yours, bonus points if he had his seinfeld sweats on. that was maximum “on some comfy shit” vibes for him. you didn’t mind, his warmth was the best feeling in the entire world

and whenever you tried to get up to go do something, he’d follow you around like an adorable lost puppy, waiting for you to be done so you could go back to snuggling

after a late night out with your girls, joe would always help you get un-ready. he'd be there with a bottle of remover and some cotton pads, gently removing your makeup as he asked you about your night. he'd help you get undressed, guide you through brushing your teeth, and then help you get cozy in bed. he would then plug in your phone for you, fill up the water bottle you kept on your nightstand, and clean up any mess in your bedroom. he knew you'd be dealing with a hangover the next morning, so he took care of all the little things so that your only job was to rest

joe leaves you little hidden notes around the house--inside your purse, tucked into a book you were reading, or in drawers around the house. each note was filled with sweet messages reminding you how much he loves you and appreciates you

"you make me a better man. thank you for loving me as I am" - found in your skincare drawer "i fall in love with you more each day. you're my everything," - hidden under your pillow "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror "i'm head over cleats for you :)" - taped to your shoes "what does taylor swift say in her one song? oh right, "have you ever thought just maybe...you belong with me ;) ?" - taped to your shampoo bottle "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror

"you make me feel so high school every time i look at you." - tucked into your planner "i know how to ball, and you know aristotle. well, we both do. but you're a bigger philosophy buff than me :)" - tucked into your computer "i love the feeling of your skin against mine. i want to feel that warmth all night," - found inside your book "just a little reminder that i can't wait to have you all to myself tonight. you drive me wild," - taped to your bottle of pomegranate juice “i love my wife. i love my wife. i love love LOVE my wife :),” - taped to your jewelry stand "i've been thinking about the last time we...let's do that again, shall we? - found on the full body mirror in the bedroom, hinting at a special moment "i love when you wear this dress. it drives me fucking wild. you're so god damn sexy baby," - taped to that little lacy red dress you wore for his birthday last year "you've intercepted my heart," - tucked under your waterbottle

joe is weirdly (it's so cute though) obsessed with getting the laundry done just right. he knows the exact way you like your clothes folded, and he's mastered the wash cycle for some of your delicate tops. sometimes, when you're tired and lazy after a hard day at work, you'll come home to find your laundry neatly folded on the side of your bed. you wouldn't have to ask him to do it, he would just know. he's definitely beating the "he can't do his own laundry" allegations ;)

joe didn't let the fact that you two were now married and together for life get in the way of still having weekly date nights. sometimes it would be as simple as ordering chinese takeout and watching a movie in bed, wearing your comfiest clothes. other times, he'd choose a free night during the week and surprise you with a night out at a restaurant you'd wanted to try or an activity that brought out your silly sides (mini golf, bowling, etc). sometimes he would even cook up a little dinner for you, candlelit table and everything. he would say, "just because we're married, doesn't mean i'm done wooing you,". it honestly didn’t matter what you two did, as long as you were together, everything was perfect

every week it felt like you were still dating, still falling for each other, deeper and deeper, one date night at a time

joe insists on driving you everywhere, no matter the weather or even if you could've driven yourself. you have a nail appointment? joe drives you. you need to go to the store? joe drives you. you want to go to your besties place? joe drives you. he loves the excuse to spend extra time with you, and you'll catch him reaching for your hand at every red light and stop sign

those drives are filled with secret--not so secret--glances too. he just can't stop staring at you, like ever. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever set his eyes on, sometimes not even being able to believe that you were real

after a long game, joe would likely come home exhausted, but he's never too tired to check in on you first. he'll let you fuss over him--ice packs, massage gun and all--but in return he makes sure you've got everything you need for your night. whether that's a hot bath, a cup of tea, or just a spare hour to let you bitch and complain about the game because he knows you get heated very fast when watching football. he knew that all this was just as mentally exhausting for you as it was him. he couldn’t imagine how it felt to be in the stands every week, watching him get tackled to the ground and fight his way to victory. but the fact that you still stuck around, after all the pain and frustration that this brought you, stood out to him. you were always there for him, no matter what

“thank you for being there for me. you’ve been with me through it all–every practice, every game, every injury, every tough loss...and even through the pressure, the media, and the expectations that never seem to let up. you’ve seen the worst parts of this career–the long hours, the hits I take, the doubts that creep in after a tough game–and still, you’re always there, no matter what. unconditionally. i don’t even think I can put it into words…how much I appreciate you. how much I love you for standing by me. you’re there for me after the worst games, when im beating myself up, and somehow, you always make it better. i don’t know how you do it, but i know i couldn’t do this without you. you make everything feel worth it, even when it’s hard. and i hope you know that, even if i can’t always find the right words to say it. i love you more than anything, and i’m so damn lucky to have you by my side,”

joe goes all out when decorating the house for christmas, and especially did when it was your first christmas as husband and wife. he obsessed over finding the perfect tree, you think you went to maybe 3 or 4 places before settling on the perfect one. it made your heart swell when you remembered the twinkle in his eyes when they landed on the perfect tree. he eagerly yanked you over, his voice all high and laced with excitement. “oo, ooo. we can do like red and gold ornaments. wait no. maybe orange? because go bengals! or would that look tacky. or wait we also have a bunch of those family ornaments so maybe no theme? ah, i don’t care, it’ll be perfect no matter what,”. he was acting like a little kid and it was the cutest damn thing you think you had ever seen

he brought out all the festive pillows, hung all the little lights everywhere he could, and even bought one of those blow-up santa's reindeer decorations for the front yard. "it's our first christmas as a married couple, babe. we're practically obligated to have the best decorated house on the block,"

then when you tried to put a stop to his christmas explosion after you came home and the inside of the house looked like santa’s workshop had exploded inside, he said, "look, if we don't go all out this year, how do we tell our kids one day that we started a tradition of being the most festive couple ever, hmm?" he asked while holding up a ridiculous amount of mistletoe for emphasis

on christmas eve, you two ended up wearing cheesy matching pj's--joe rolls his eyes at them but secretly loves wearing them because its "peak couple behavior" and you two make it work. "i'm only doing this for you," he says, but then you'll find him wearing those same pjs long after christmas is over

joe lowkey is an absolute gift wrapping pro. every gift is cleanly wrapped with perfect corners and bows. he says he learned it from his mama--which wasn't surprising since joey was an absolute mama's boy and looked up to her for everything. he even adds a little note to each gift, reminding you how much he loves you. that he did on his own, something he didn’t get from his mama. that was just your husband being the best damn husband to ever husband

joey secretly hangs mistletoe all over the house and each time you pass under it, he's right there with a silly grin, lips puckered for a kiss. "oh, look where we are again," he smirks every time before pulling you in for his favorite way to pass time

joey surprised you with a custom ornament on christmas eve too. it said "our first christmas, mr. & mrs. burrow", and he looks so proud while giving it to you. you act like you don't notice the blush on his cheeks when you hang it on the tree together, but boy did he feel like exploding into a cloud of pink sparkly dust at that moment

if his hands weren’t always on you, his lips definitely were. you lost count of how many times you two were late for something because he just couldn’t get himself to pull away from your lips. it would usually start innocently, maybe a quick peck or two before heading out--but one kiss would turn into two, then three. before you knew it, he'd have you pressed against the doorframe, his lips lingering longer each time. “mmm, 5 more minutes baby,” he would mumble against your lips before stuffing his hand in your hair and pushing your face closer to his. you would try to resist by laughing between kisses and reminding him you had to go, but he'd just smile at you and then lean in for another one

joe has a habit of surprising you with flowers, but never for a specific reason. he'll come home with a bouquet of flowers on a random day after practice, saying something like, "just felt like my wife deserved this today for being the amazing woman she is,"

joe often stays up late watching game film before important games, but he always invites you to come sit with him on the couch, even if you end up falling asleep midway. you'll wake up with his arm draped around you, the TV quietly playing game highlights and he'll whisper, "sorry honey, i didn't mean to wake you up," before dropping a sweet kiss to your forehead. but there are times where you stay awake and watch the film with him, snuggled up together on the couch. when he's in analysis mode, he'll absentmindedly start explaining plays to you, "okay, so if you're the wide receiver, you'll run this route," he says while guiding your hand to demonstrate. it always ends up with him getting...distracted though. the game film had long been forgotten as the only route joe was concerned about was the route he was going to let his lips take to the place where you needed him the most ;)

even though joe is the star on the field, you're the star off the field. whether it's a work event, casual dinner, or something important to you--joe's there for you in full support. you are the star of the show, the most important thing in the universe. he'll be cheering you on like it's the super bowl or something. he just loves to see you work hard and have that pay off. he loves to see good things happen to you because you deserve all the happiness humanly possible

he’s always the loudest clapper and cheerer whenever you get an award or recognition at work. he’s the first one to shoot up from his chair when your name is called, and the last one to sit down after you’re done being serenaded with praise. he knows how much you support him, how you tirelessly shower him with love and support. so he always makes sure to do the exact same for you

before every game, you slip a little handwritten note into joe's locker with some words of encouragement and something to make him laugh, even for a brief moment. "bring home that win and I'll have a sweet treat waiting," or "you make this look so damn easy. go out there and do your thing, baby. i'll be cheering for you, always," or even "the faster you wrap up that win, the sooner we can play our own game. i've got a new playbook for you to try. hint: it involves less clothing,". he always kept these notes in his bag and will read them when he's feeling stressed or overwhelmed--during halftime or even before the game again--and they'll act as a little boost

joe’s love language is all of the above. but gifts, physical touch, and quality time were the frontrunners

gifts-

he showers you with gifts all the time, for absolutely no reason. one day you’ll come home to a new handbag waiting for you on the table. or a new necklace to add to your expensive collection (he has great taste). or you’ll be surprised with adorable little things like a new stuffed teddy bear or a funny spongebob sweatshirt (you both were equally as obsessed with the cartoon). he loved to buy you things for no reason because he just loved to see that bashful smile on your face and your little nose scrunch up

you even remember that one halloween when he made you a boo-basket after overhearing one of his teammates talk about making one for their wife. after hearing that, joe went straight to the store to pick up the essentials and then when he got home, got started on the more...extravagant pieces of the basket. joe covered all the grounds with it, even adding in his own flair. there was a cozy blanket, a bunch of sweet treats and savory snacks, halloween candy, a few candles, a book you’d been wanting to read for a while, face masks, fuzzy socks, a new heating pad, and new ugg slippers. but then there was also a new diamond tennis bracelet, a new pair of cartier shades (so you can match him), and a little designer clutch to go along with a new dress you bought just a few weeks before

during the off season, he would occasionally surprise you with spontaneous weekend getaways as he knew you loved traveling. he would always take you somewhere you were dreaming of--a cozy cabin, a beachside resort, or even a staycation at a fancy hotel nearby

after one of his biggest wins--his first AFC championship win--joe had a game ball set aside just for you. on the ball he wrote, "this one's for you, forever and always yours - j.b". it sits in a display case in your home, a constant reminder of how you're always on his mind, even in his biggest moments

every season, joe gives you a signed jersey (one of his own, of course. usually the first jersey from week 1). each jersey has a personal message for you on the inside of the collar like "my #1" or "forever yours" and are dated to match the significant milestones. you have a collection of them now, and they're one of the most treasurable things you own

quality time-

anytime together was quality time for joe. whether that be picking out new paint colors for the house or new tiles for your bathroom, or snuggling up on the couch together to watch trashy reality tv, or sitting on the back porch with a glass of wine and watching the sunset. he just loved any and all time he got with you

he always made sure to make time for you. football took up quite a bit of his time, but that made it even more important to take time out for you

one thing joe loved to do with you was late night drives and walks

he loved to drive around with you on the golf cart, especially down to the river behind the house. your head leaning on his shoulder, fingers entwined, and the breeze blowing through your hair. it was so simple yet so pleasurable for him. it gave him the serenity he craved every day, an escape from his chaotic football world

late night walks were also exciting for him. he loved to take you out for a lap or two around the neighborhood after dinner. the only light was coming from the lamposts and the moon above you two. oftentimes during these walks, you two would have some of your deepest, intimate conversations. before you got married, those deep conversations would be about marriage, about your future. but since that was now sealed, your deep conversations would be about things such as kids, his future in cincinnati, and where you two see yourself in 15 years. but it didn't always have to be serious. you two would often find yourselves giggling about aliens, time travel, and old stories from your days back at LSU

oh and he also just loved to spend time between your legs

physical touch-

joe is handsy as hell. he’d always been like that, but you thought it would die down as the years went by and you two started acting more like a unit than a bunch of horny college kids. but those two things can be true at the same time

he’s always holding your hand when he can. he needs to feel you at all times. whether it’s holding hands in the car, holding hands underneath the dining table at dinner with friends or family, or holding hands in a crowded room to calm his anxieties. he just needed that touch. his hand is also often found at your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans. he likes to have it in your jean pocket because according to him, “it’s the only way i can touch your ass with decency in public,”

he also had a habit of fidgeting with your wedding ring. you don’t know why but he just loved to play with it, twist it around your finger

the reason was that he just needed to remind himself that it was there. that it was real and it was on your finger. sometimes he couldn’t believe that you were his wife, couldn’t believe that someone like you was with him till the day he died

he’s also handsy in some…other ways ;)

if he could, he would absolutely keep you in bed with him for eternity

he was so damn good in bed. like everytime you guys got down to it, you’d be left breathless, speechless, and in awe

as your marriage progressed, the sex only got better and better. he knew what you liked and what you didn’t like, so he made the things you did like even more intense. he wasn’t opposed to trying new things at all either, as long as you were comfortable and felt satisfied. he wanted to do whatever he could to bring you to heaven

also because there was no need to be careful anymore. you were married. you wanted kids together. and well, the rest is self explanatory....but once he got to feel you without any barriers, that's when he really went feral. like a whole other level of down bad for you. he really needed to be pried off of you because he could never get enough of you or your body

joe loved praising you the entire time too, and honestly, you earned it. the way you'd make him feel in bed was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. you were so insanely sexy, so insanely good at it all. every time you two got down to it, you'd make it unforgettable ;)

"baby...fuck you're amazing. i can't get enough of..oh..i can't get enough of you. you're doing so well...just like that...do what you want. make yourself feel good, y/n...take it,"

joe was so obsessed with you, and that love and infatuation had not once gone down over the years. it somehow got bigger. he was so happy to be your husband, and he was even happier that you were his wife.

engagement and honeymoon joe

you and joe had been dating for about 4 years before he popped the question. from the very beginning, he knew you were his girl. his forever girl. his special girl. he loved you quite literally more than life itself, nothing could ever come before you. you were his biggest priority. joe from years ago would've laughed if someone told him that in the future, something else other than football would become his first priority. but joe now? joe now was proud of the fact that you were his biggest priority. he was proud to shower you with unwavering love, and affection; he loved being able to give you the world. loved being able to give his wife everything she could ever want

there was never a doubt in his mind, but it wasn't until just after your fourth anniversary that he decided to make it official. he was waiting for all the stars to align before doing it. you weren't surprised that he did--he'd always dropped hints about the future, about how he couldn't imagine his life without you. but you were surprised by when he did it

he flew both of you down to louisiana for a few days that summer, claiming that it was a work trip. it was a work trip on the surface. he was helping with scouting, recruitment, and training as he was one of, if not the most, successful LSU football alums in recent years. but on a deeper level, this was the proposal trip. every moment seemed casual, perfectly normal, but you didn't know he had a ring, the ring, tucked away; waiting for just the right time to turn this work trip into the start of forever

he had an entire day set aside just for you two. it started with breakfast at one of your favorite spots from your LSU days--a cozy little diner, just walking distance from joe's old apartment. you two used to find yourselves in the same booth every weekend, sharing pancakes and debriefing your weeks together with endless cups of coffee. it was like stepping back in time, a sweet nod to the beginning of your journey together. then, he took you to the planetarium--the same place he brought you on your very first date. he'd always been fascinated by space, and you remembered how he told you that his universe seemed a little less overwhelming with you in it; that you were the brightest star in his sky, and you outshined everything else

it was as if he was recreating the milestones of your relationship that day, building up to something bigger

then he took you to a romantic dinner at the same restaurant where he told you he loved you for the first time--yet another milestone recreated. he got the same table, the same food items, and even got you the same flowers he did on your first date. he remembered it all

after that, he ended up driving you to Tiger Stadium

you were so confused as to why you were at the football stadium that night, especially because there was no event going on that joe needed to be a part of. the entire stadium was empty except for you two. you thought it was just a little walk down memory lane, but little did you know, joey had other plans

joe had always been sappy when it came to big moments in your relationship, so when it came time to propose, he knew there was only one place where it could happen. the same place he first asked you to be his girlfriend: LSU’s Tiger Stadium—after one of the most important games of the season back during his first year at LSU. this was the place where he was now going to ask you to be his wife. yet another milestone was recreated, but also another milestone being created at the same time

you didn't think much of it as you two walked hand in hand through the tunnel and onto the turf, you could almost hear the echoes and chants of the crowds from years ago. but when he led you to the exact spot where he asked you to be his girlfriend--the fifty years line--your heart skipped a beat

"remember this?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, his body filled with nostalgia

but then you saw his expression shift to something more serious, more raw as he looked around at the stadium he once called his home. he reached into his pocket and got down on one knee right there, right in the middle of the field. "this place means everything to me. it's where my dreams started, where I became the player I am today. but it's also where we started. where I asked you to be my girl for the first time. everything changed when you said yes, and since then you've been my biggest support, my constant, my person. it hit me early on that there's no one else i'd rather have by my side. not just through the football stuff, but through life. and i realized there's no place more perfect than this...to ask you what i've been dreaming about for years. this is where we started--where i first asked you to be mine. now i'm asking you for forever. y/n, you're my heart, my home, my everything. you single handedly rocked my entire world when you first walked in, and now i just can't get enough of you. i want to spend the rest of my life loving you, making you laugh, and building a life together. will you marry me?"

and he even got the jumbotron to show an old photo of the two of you from the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, right at the exact spot where he was on one knee right in front of you

when he opened the little velvet box, you felt like your heart popped out of your chest. the ring he had for you was the most gorgeous thing you had ever set your eyes on, well other than joe. it was custom made, designed to resemble the promise ring he gave you all those years ago

small diamonds lined the sides of the ring, giving it an extra sparkle that caught the light with every movement. he knew you loved sparkle, so he made sure the ring was extra sparkley

the breathtaking cushion-cut diamond in the middle of the ring was just perfect. a little halo of smaller diamonds surrounded it, highlighting it's brilliance just enough

the most special part of the ring was the inside of the band. inside, the words "forever and always yours - j.b" were engraved in cursive, just like your promise ring

and of course you said yes to his proposal. why would you not? he was your dream man. this was your dream

the hours after the proposal were so magical

the first thing he did was pull out his phone and call your family, excitedly sharing the news of your engagement with them. the proud smile on joe's face is forever burned into your head. he was so excited to make you his wife. he was oozing love that night. you'd never seen him so in love before

then, you guys had some celebratory drinks to commemorate the engagement. let's just say you two might have had one too many glasses of champagne because, by the end of the night, you two were honestly contemplating if you should elope to a foreign country next week and get married

you fell asleep that night dreaming together. you talked about your dreams for the future--where you see yourself living, your dream vacation spots, and even little details about your wedding like the flavor of cake. "i want red velvet," was all joe said when you brought up the cake. "i want red velvet. i want red velvet. if you love me, you'll let me have red velvet,"

for your honeymoon, joe took you to the amalfi coast, italy. one of your dream destinations

each evening, you two took long, romantic walks along the coastline. you walked hand in hand along the scenic walkways, the gorgeous sun setting behind you which casted a golden glow on both of you. you both took turns taking photos of little candid moments, laughing as you tried to get the perfect shot. "hey shorty, just hop up on my shoulders," he would cutely tease as you tried to get a good shot of the view, but your height got in the way

joey booked you a private boat tour on one of the days too. you both enjoyed the clear blue waters all day as you were surronded by breathtaking cliffs and coves. you even convinced joe to get a nice tan with you, but his stubborn ass refused to put on sunscreen, so he was a tad but overbaked at the end of the day. "ha, you look like a tomato," you giggled as you booped his red nose

he also booked you a private cooking class where you learn how to make authentic Italian dishes. you both laughed and teased each other while rolling out the fresh pasta and preparing a classic marinara sauce. "mmm, you look so delicious right now," he whispered in your ear as he felt himself get a bit overjoyed at the sight of you in an apron and your hair wrapped in a messy bun, flour all over your cheeks and arms. you pushed him away so you could focus, but in retaliation, he coated his big hands with flour, and then planted each hand on your ass, leaving big floury handprints on your ass which was so visible because of your black dress

you also have quite a few late-night gelato runs

after spending quite a few hours in bed, wrapped up in a passionate, heated bubble, you both would be craving the sweet, cold treat. so you'd quickly throw on some clothes and stumble out of your hotel, finding yourself at the doorsteps of local gelato shops. you tried sooo many flavors on the trip, playfully feeding each other spoonfuls as you walked through the charming streets under the moonlight

the entire trip, you two were so attached at the hip. like way more than usual. you were like magnets. he even made sure that during your beach days, you were secluded and away from everyone else so that nobody would interrupt your makeout sessions...and well, some other things too. he just wanted to be able to love up on his wife in peace

the honeymoon was so perfect. it was like the perfect escape for you two, the best way to start off forever :)

dad joe

joe talks to your baby bump sooo much. sometimes you'll even wake up to his head level with your bump, and the sound of his voice whispering to his unborn daughter. he loved talking to her, not caring if the conversation was one-sided. he just wanted baby tessa to be able to recognize his voice when she was born

"good morning little tiger. mommy is still sleeping but daddy is wide awake. thanks for letting her sleep in, baby. she had a long night because of your little kicks. they hurt sometimes, so just be gentle with her, okay? we love you and can't wait to meet you, pumpkin,"

his featherlight kisses around your belly were both you and your baby's favorite thing. every night before bed, he'd help you moisturize your belly with some special pregnancy lotion you ordered online, and right after he was done, the kisses would begin. the first couple of times he did this, it was calm and quiet. but one night, a kiss to your bump resulted in the baby's first kick

"oh my god, y/n! she kicked! babygirl kicked!" he excitedly said while meeting your eyes. the look on his face just made you want to die right then and there. he was so damn happy. he was just so excited about all of it--for the baby, for you to be a mom, and for him to be a dad

he even gives his football commentary to your bump

during MNF or TNF, you two would be snuggled up on the couch and joe's cheek would be squished up against your swollen belly. your hands would be stuck in his fluffy hair, playing and twirling with the strands as he talked to baby burrow about what was going on in the game. he would have this adorable little smile on his face when he spoke football talk to your bump, because each time he said something, he'd get a little kick in return

"alright, babygirl. you're about to witness some football magic," he says against your belly, his eyes glancing up at you for a second so you could see his excitement. he had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, "see that guy over there?" he said while pointing at the screen. "that's my buddy. he's got an arm like you wouldn't believe. he's gonna throw a TD any minute and I want you to remember that feeling and sound of excitement for when you watch daddy do the same thing, okay?" he asked, his fingers tracing over your bump as if he was trying to connect with her. and he did, because she gave him a gentle little kick in response

joe took it upon himself to order and read a boatload of parenting books and articles. he wanted to know all the ins and outs of being a dad, even asking advice from all his friends and family. you found it so heartwarming to see the amount of dedication he put into preparing to be a dad. joe always gave everything his 100%, but it seemed like he was giving this particular thing 110%

he got a little too psyched out, however, after reading an article about the appropriate age to let your daughter start dating

"babe. no boys. she can't let that poison seep into her brain? tessa needs to be on top of everything if she wants to be the best possible version of herself, at least until she graduates college. no boys at all," joey said, his expression was so serious it made you giggle

"listen, i was the same way. but then I met you in college. you didn't poison my mind, right? tess will be fine. besides, we have sooooo many years before we need to worry about which boy our daughter is sneaking out at midnight with," you giggled. "babe!" joe gasped, "this is not funny,"

joe loves baby shopping a little too much

going to the baby store with him is like going into victoria's secret with a teenage girl. he was lost in his own little world

as you're browsing through the clothes, he gets overly excited about the little outfits. "the clothes are so tinyyyy," he pouts while picking up a little baby joe burrow jersey. he picks out a bunch of cute little onesies for his babygirl, many of which have cute little football sayings on them like "daddy's cheerleader" or "MVB: most valuable baby". he wanted her wardrobe to match his love for football as much as possible. which is also why a few days later, he came home after practice with a tote bag of baby bengals merch just for her

in the toy section, joe completely loses it. he can't resist touching each plush toy and rattle, often making silly faces or sounds to see what toy gets a reaction from you or your baby bump. "oh wait, i need to get her a squidward plushie. oh wait, i also need to get her a squidward beanie to match me sweatshirt game days," he nodded as he stood in front of the spongebob section with both hands on each sides of his hips. he was already standing just like a dad and you couldn't help but giggle at it

"god, i can't believe we're gonna be parents," he pouted as he walked out of the baby store, bags galore in his hands. "im so excited,"

during labor, joey was the most supportive and gentle husband possible. he was the calm in the storm and just his presence was doing wonders for you

he held your hand, rubbed your back, and helped you through breathing exercises. he was very hands-on, which you loved. his touch always put you at ease

during those intense contractions, he always reminded you to hold eye contact with him. those baby blue eyes were your safe haven and each time you looked into them, you allowed yourself to get lost. the pain of the contractions basically faded away with just one long stare into his warm eyes

joe made sure that he was in communication with the medical staff. he needed to make sure you were receiving the best care possible and that he knew everything that was going on at all times

during labor, he was your biggest cheerlead. whenever you felt anxious or scared, he was right next to you, whispering words of praise into your ear, "you're doing amazing, princess," or "i'm so proud of you mama. you're so strong, i love you so much. she's going to love you,"

joe made sure that you had quiet moments too--where he was just sitting next to you, gently stroking your hand as he talked about how excited he was to meet your baby. he just wanted you to lay back and listen in order to conserve your energy

he even cracks a few jokes during your intense moments to calm you down

breathing during a contraction- "okay, babe, remember: in through the nose, out through the--wait, isn't this basically football practice? you've got better form than half the team right now!" he laughed

after a contraction- "sooo. i guess we can skip leg day for a while after this, huh?"

as he massages your back- "you know, i’ve been meaning to tell you, this is great practice for the halftime pep talks and relaxing mechanisms you'll need for tess when she’s older. if she's anything like her mom, she won't hesitate in marching down to the locker room and cursing out the entire d-line,"

when you're trying to relax- "just think, by the end of the day, we'll have a little new teammate on our roster. you think she's more offense material? or defense?"

after your baby is born, joe's first words are so soft and emotional. he's so overwhelmed with emotions, but the first thing he thinks about, is you

"you did it, princess. you're so incredible, mama," he says as he kisses your forehead, tears in his eyes, completely in awe of you

a few days post birth, you're coming down the stairs after a much needed nap and the sight your met with literally causes you to melt

baby tessa's squished up against joe's bare chest, sleeping while he just held her against him. you can see that he's quietly relishing the moment, this little bonding time with his daughter. her little baby cheek is pushed up against his muscular chest and that alone drives you wild. those raging pregnancy hormones were definitely getting to you ;)

the sleepless nights don't faze joe. everytime she wakes up crying, he's up in an instant. he lets you rest, knowing that you needed it way more than you thought. you were working so hard as a new mom, you needed to just relax. "i've got her babe," he whispers to you. you love watching him cradle her in his arms, rocking her back and forth while softly humming a song. you saw him visibly release the tension in his muscles as he felt her calm down in his arms

joey is hyper aware of every sound she makes. the second she lets out so much as a tiny squeak, he's right by her side, making sure she's okay. he absolutely adores his little girl

joe has set daddy-daughter bonding time in the morning. each morning, he walks around the house with her in his arms, talking to her about football, his training, and all the things he plans to teach her about the sport. he's convinced she's listening, even if she's only staring at him with wide baby eyes and a drool-covered chin

joe is all about family naps. he tells you that all three of you need to snuggle together on the couch during the day and you obviously agree. your home was those two right there. of course, you wanted to snuggle up with them. you'd often wake up and see him with baby burrow resting on his chest, both of them fast asleep as his big hand gently rested on her tiny back

"baby, she's so cute! look at her little squishy face," joe would giggle to you as he played around with her in his lap

joe constantly reminds you of how incredible you are. he's in total awe every time he watches you feed the baby or rock her to sleep. "you're such an amazing mom. i'm so lucky to have both of you. you're my two favorite girls," he would say

joe jokes that he's already making a baby-friendly football playbook

he scribbles down little plays and shows them to her as if this is film study and she's taking notes. "okay, tessa. here's what we're gonna do. first, we tackle nap time. then, we conquer tummy time," he would explain to her with a goofy smile, one that caused her to shriek and squeal

joe has this video camera that he uses to document her progress. he tells you that he's gonna film her little moments just like his dad did for him. seeing joe walk around tessa with a camera in his hand, trying to get every angle, made your heart melt. nothing brought you more joe than hearing a mix of both their soft giggles, shrieks, and laughs. "tessa...over here, pumpkin. daddy's over here!" he would softly say as he tried to get her to look back at him and his camera as she tried to play with her squidward plushie--her favorite thing in the world right now

crawl training was one of your most favorite parts of the day because you could just sit back and watch joe be in full daddy mode for an hour or two

he would playfully get down on his hands and knees, demonstrating how to crawl. he slowly moved one hand forward along with his knee, "look, babygirl. it's just like this! one hand, then the other--easy peasy, right?"

every time she moved the smallest inch, joe's face lit up with pride. "you're so strong, tessa. you've got this!" he cheered on

he'd even motivate her with toys, gently waving it in front of her. "you want mr. squidward? come get him, sweetie," he teases, proud of every shuffle she makes

"c'mon, you're almost there, babygirl. you've got this," he would encourage. "you're almost to mama," he added as he met your soft eyes while you patted your legs so tessa would remain focused

each time she struggled, you watched him quickly scoop her up in his arms for s break. peppering her with kisses and tickles while whispering, "it's okay, we have all the time in the world. me and mama are soo proud of you, pumpkin,". his patience was so special to you. he was so gentle with her, so understanding

but when she managed to push herself even further than before, joe would celebrate like it was a touchdown. "that's my girl!" he'd cheer, clapping his hand softly as he watched her giggle and squeal in your lap while you showered her with kisses

"huh, i guess she'll be crawling all over the place now, isn't she?" joe asked you as he sat down with you after crawl training with his little tiger

"probably. but that's all your doing, baby," you would tease

tessa was such a daddy's girl, and how could she not be? he was so good to her

seeing joe as a dad just made you fall in love with him even more. the way he took on this major new responsibility like a champ made your heart explode. you didn't think you could possibly love him any more than you already did, but tessa's arrival proved you wrong in the best way

joe was the absolute perfect husband and an even better dad. he was naturally good at everything he did, but loving you and his babygirl was the easiest thing for him to excel at

--the end--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #bengals #joey burrow #nfl imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine

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sun4r1nnity · 4 months ago

Note

Hi do you happen to take a request. If you up for it can I request fratboy atsumu and make it hurt/comfort wheter it's misunderstanding cz you know he is so popular or anything that you like. Love your job btw and you can ignore my request if you are not into it ♡♡♡

a misunderstanding between fratboy!atsumu and fem!reader.

hurt, comfort, vulgar words used.

note: hello! thank you so much for the request. sorry this took long, these weeks has been so busy and i've only got a chance to write it this afternoon. this hits hard while im writing because i experienced the same thing, but instead of reassurance i got dumped lol XD. i hope you enjoy my own interpretation of this prompt.

more fratboy!atsumu here!

dating fratboy!atsumu is wonderful, yet it comes with consequences.

the constant social events, the parties, and being under the scrutiny of his frat brothers can be overwhelming. however, the fear of not being enough for someone as popular as atsumu is your greatest concern. atsumu has a bunch of girls lined up for him, ready to take your place should the relationship end. you feel guilty of thinking this way, because your boyfriend has made it clear how much he loves you. the thought is slowly eating you up, and how bad it affects your emotions lately. you'd be so sensitive, which causes you to lash out on him for small or no reason at all, but you're grateful of how atsumu never once gets mad, instead offering reassurance you needed.

the atmosphere is vibrant with the crowd at the party, the sound of loud music, and an array of drinks and food spread out on a large table. you hadn't intended to go to a frat party with atsumu tonight, but you find yourself here regardless because it's suna's event. suna has always been nothing but kind to you, and you get along with him well, so it would feel rude not to attend tonight.

atsumu had left you on your own, engaging in conversation with his friends somewhere. as you mingle with familiar faces, trying to shake off the doubts in your mind, you catch a glimpse of atsumu across the room. he's talking to a girl, one you dont recognize. your stomach turns as you watch her, admiring her beautiful features and you suddenly feel ugly having her presence near you. not to say how sexy she looks, casually slaying any style that she wears. she's standing close to him, her body language open and flirty. she laughs at something he says, placing a hand lightly on his arm. atsumu smiles back at her, seemingly enjoying the conversation. the sight sends a jolt of jealousy through you. your heart was aching, so you decided to step outside to feel some fresh air. as you make your way to the door, you hear a couple of atsumu's frat brothers talking nearby.

"man, atsumu's only with her because she's safe. she's not like other girls, you get what i mean?"

"yeah, i give it a month before he gets bored and moves on. probably after he fucked her first, heard that she's a virgin," one of them said, earning chuckles from his peers.

"dude you seen the girl atsumu's talking to? man she's hot as hell, i bet he gets his cock wet with her instead of his girlfriend,"

the words sting, like salt on an open wound. you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you quickly leave the party. the fresh air outside does little to soothe the ache in your chest. you walk home, with every step feeling heavier than the one before, hurt and confusion swirl through your mind. you didnt care about atsumu who's still at the party, he can go have fun with his 'new girl'.

it wasn't long before atsumu came looking for you, only to realize that you had already left. "dunno dude, but i saw her crying when she got out of the house, i didnt ask because i thought you two had an argument or something," said a guy from atsumu's fraternity. what did he do? he thinks. not before his twin started asking the same thing, and he swore he felt like his life is on the line. "what the heck did ya do?" osamu's tone is mad, and he's second away from grabbing atsumu's collar and bash his head into the wall. "i dont know! i was just talking to midori and- " his eyes widen, finally realizing the reason why before smacking his head into his palm repeatedly. suna shakes his head. "better go now man, dont wanna mess up this one, yeah?" suna advised, patting on atsumu's shoulder before the blonde dashes outside and drove off.

atsumu's texts and calls remained unanswered. you activated do-not-disturb mode, silencing any notifications and calls from your boyfriend. your feet ached from the lengthy walk, and you regretted the impulsive decision you made earlier. suddenly, a honk startled you, and you turned to see a familiar vehicle—atsumu's car—slowing down to match your walking pace. despite this, your pride was unwavering, and you quickened your steps. atsumu's voice, calling out your name in an attempt to halt your progress, was audible.

"(y/n), baby! come on now!" he pleaded, but you continued to ignore him. striving to walk faster, the discomfort in your feet intensified. then, the sound of his car door closing followed by the approaching footsteps indicated he was coming after you.

"babe! c'mon, listen ta me," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. you kept walking, your emotions a whirlwind of hurt and confusion. finally, atsumu caught up to you, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. "please," he said, his voice softer now, "just let me explain,"

you stop, reluctantly turning to face him. his eyes were filled with worry and regret. "im sorry, m'kay? i didnt mean to make you feel that way," he began, his voice cracking slightly. "im sorry baby, midori is an old friend, and we have nothing going on, whether its in the past or now, we never had anything together,"

you looked away, the pain still fresh in your heart as you recalls those hurtful words you heard. "your frat brothers, they said some hurtful things. they said how you're only with me because im safe, and you're going to leave me right after you take away my virginity. and, how you're probably fucking with her behind my back,". you were choking back tears, overwhelmed by a wave of pain and guilt. "i feel worse, tsumu. i hate how i feel like im in a competition with all the pretty girls waiting for you to break it off with me, and- , and how im afraid im not enough with you, and you will leave me because you realized im not what you wanted,"

atsumu's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his eyes pleading for you to understand. he'll deal with those assholes later, right now his only concern is you. "fuck, 'm so sorry, sweetheart, im sorry," he said. tears welled up in your eyes. seeing your struggle, atsumu pulls you into a gentle embrace, his warmth offering a sense of comfort amidst the turmoil. "that's not true at all, my love for ya is genuine, those guys dont know shit about me, fuck," atsumu said, his tone filled with desperation and a slight anger. "yer perfect fer me, i fucking love ya so much. yer always be more than enough for me baby, so fucking gorgeous, perfect in every way, dont doubt it alright?" he confessed, feeling his eyes burning with tears.

"im so sorry. i should have noticed how ya were feeling," he murmured into your hair. "im here now, 'm not goin' anywhere. we'll get through this, i promise,"

you finally relax yourself in his arms, the hurt slowly beginning to fade. the raw honesty and vulnerability in his voice reassured you, and you felt a glimmer of hope.

the drive home was slow and filled with more heartfelt conversation. atsumu held your hand the entire time, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as he reassured you of his love and commitment. by the time you reached home, you felt lighter, the misunderstanding serving as a catalyst for a deeper connection and renewed trust.

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anemoiashifts · 4 months ago

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why you should stop consuming media if you want to shift.

where your attention goes, is where energy will follow. the more you focus on something, the more real it becomes.

⭑.ᐟ i made a post a while ago saying “why you should get off social media if you want to shift”. id like to expand upon that a little more. so, here’s a “why you should stop consuming media” or at the very least “why you should consume media carefully”.

you are being programmed through everything — social media, music lyrics, television, advertising, the news. this is why meta wants tiktok b@nn3d so badly. its taking away their ability to control & their influence upon you because average people spend more time on tiktok then anything else. this can be extended to news networks because more and more people are using it as news sources. media, not just social, need your attention in order to program you. as someone who has taken classes marketing, the core of what my class was, was teaching someone to be the best manipulator. my professor said to always “play on people’s emotions”. anything that has the ability to take your attention away & live in a negative & distracted stake, is taking away your ability to create the life you want to live. a lot of — if not everything — is about power & controlling you for someones benefit.

taking this into account, you can now begin to understand why television shows are called television programs. it is programming you to think & behave & make purchases. for example, the human mind does not know the difference between real & fake. if something provokes an emotion out of you — that emotion it is still real, even it was brought on by fiction. the human brain cannot truly comprehend fiction. this is why people form such emotional attachments to fictional characters because our brains cannot distinguish that they are a character or a scenario is not real.

power comes from your attention & what you focus on; what emotion it provokes.

₊˚⊹♡ why is this relevant ?

your thoughts & feelings create your reality.

by waking up every morning after a shifting attempt & saying “i didn’t shift, im not in my desired reality” is what you’re affirming to yourself. when you roll over & scroll on your phone, you are taking your attention away from persisting that you are in the wish fulfilled. you aren’t focusing on that you have already shifted. every shifting tiktok video is affirming that you aren’t in your desired reality. it’s reinforcing that idea of “you’ll shift tonight” “who would do this in your desired reality” “___ in my desired reality” — that you are still here. it’s hardly ever said “you’ve already shifted” on tiktok. again, this circles back to “playing on people’s emotions” — desperation & excitement. keeping people in a loop of shifting content instead of actually wanting to experience it for yourself. i will admit, practically everyone is guilty of this — self included. it definitely doesn’t come from a place of malice & i doubt it’s always intentional on anyone’s part but it’s something to consider that every shifting video you come across is a reminder that you haven’t shifted yet.

limit what you consume. for example, if you keep listening to a sad song, you’re going to be sad & pulled back into a time in your life that no longer serves you. it removes you from the present. the brain has no concept of time as it is a man-made idea. by eliminating media entirely (or limiting / being mindful of what is being fed to you & taking nothing at face value), you are getting that power back.

media keeps you distracted. it keeps you focused on other things & not your manifestations. it constantly brings back you into the 3d. the longer you’re focused on the 3d, the further away you will be removed from your manifestations & you will be pulled into things that fuel others desires.

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter #reality shifter

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motherismotheringggg · 25 days ago

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bad idea right? 🩷

summary: inspired by “bad idea right” by olivia rodrigo where the reader continues to hook up with a POS man for the plot

type: female reader x piece of shit nicholas chavez

tags: 18+, oral (f! and m! receiving), p in v unprotected sex, smutty smut smut

author’s note: these pictures have been floating around on twitter and i’m ovulating so yeah ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, i have a few requests im working on i PROMISE but this was just something quick to take the edge off lololo

taglist: @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @godzillawillsaveus , @purple-1995 , @ilovecheetahchrome

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

You already came once, your body trembling and your breath staggered as your fingers tangled in Nicholas’s drenched brown locks. The strands clung to his forehead, damp with sweat and the heat radiating between your thighs. His head remained buried while his tongue moved with deliberate precision, sending shocks through your entire being.

His grip on your thighs was unrelenting, his strong hands pinning you in place as if daring you to try and escape. Each squeeze of his fingers was possessive, grounding you even as your body felt like it might float away. You squirmed under his hold, your back arching off the bed as you tried—desperately—to match the rhythm of his tongue. The need to chase your next orgasm consumed you, and you bucked your hips in defiance, seeking more friction.

But Nicholas wasn’t having it. With a low, almost teasing hum against your core, he pressed you down harder, the vibrations traveling through your body and making your toes curl. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, his voice muffled and thick with determination.

His tongue flicked and swirled with a maddening consistency, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firmer, more focused licks that had you crying out his name. The slick sounds of his efforts filled the room, mixing with the erratic cadence of your gasps and whimpers.

“Nicholas—oh my—fuck baby I’m gonna cum again,” you choked out, your thighs trembling against his head as the pleasure built once more. He responded with a deep groan, the vibration sending another heat wave crashing over you. The corners of his mouth curled slightly, almost smug, as he doubled down, sucking gently on your swollen flesh before diving back in with relentless fervor.

Your vision blurred, and the only thing tethering you to reality was the pressure of his hands and the unrelenting rhythm of his tongue. You felt the heat coil low in your belly, tighter and tighter, until it was ready to snap again, leaving you utterly undone under his unwavering devotion.

————

You hated how good this felt. Hated that you left an amazing party—music pounding, laughter filling the air, and drinks flowing freely—just to come here. Hated that Nicholas knew your body better than you cared to admit. Hated even more that, despite texting him a week ago that he could go to hell after finding yet another girl’s earrings in his car, the moment he texted, asking you to come over so he could "explain," you didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

The worst part? You two weren’t even dating. He made that abundantly clear every time he let you stumble across little reminders that he wasn’t yours—earrings, lip gloss, a strand of hair on his jacket. He was as casual with you as he was with all the other owners of forgotten trinkets, and yet here you were. The justification was simple: Nicholas was hot. Ridiculously, unfairly, breathtakingly hot. Even your friends, who hated him on principle as good friends should, grudgingly admitted it. Over too many glasses of wine, they’d rage about how lucky he was to have ever fucked you, how you could—and should—do so much better.

But then you’d all spiral into the same conclusion: the sex was that good. If it was just sex, where was the harm? No feelings. No expectations. Just chemistry so electric it was impossible to ignore. Or so you told yourselves.

You were still stewing in that inner monologue when the Uber Black he sent—a sleek Cadillac Escalade with more legroom than you’d ever need—pulled up in front of his house. He hadn’t even come to get you himself. Typical. Still, the luxury ride felt like a taunt, a reminder of his carelessness and charm rolled into one.

He stood at the screen door, waving like you hadn’t been here a dozen times before, as if this wasn’t familiar territory. The audacity made you clench your jaw. “Probably thinking of the wrong bitch, Nicholas,” you thought bitterly, stepping out of the car and walking the path up to his front steps. He disappeared into the house before you reached the door, leaving it open but not bothering to greet you. At least the Uber waited until you stepped inside before driving off.

When you entered, he was coming from the kitchen with a bottle of water in one hand and a pack of peanut butter crackers in the other. His acid-wash cut-off tee clung to his broad shoulders, exposing arms that looked freshly pumped, veins prominent against the taut muscle. His light-wash jeans sat low on his hips, almost too low, and his damp brown hair suggested he’d either just showered or worked out. Either way, he looked like sin incarnate, and you hated that you noticed.

“How was the party?” he asked casually, handing you the water without meeting your eyes.

“It was fine,” you lied, taking the bottle. The party had been incredible—exactly what you’d needed to blow off steam—but you hadn’t been able to enjoy a second of it. Your eyes were glued to your phone, heart racing every time the screen lit up, desperate for a text from him.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, throwing himself onto the couch. His legs spread wide, a deliberate display of arrogance and ease that made your knees weak.

“I only had a little at the pregame and one drink at the party,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral as you settled on the couch, purposefully keeping a distance. You hoped—prayed—he’d close it.

He flipped through channels on the TV, silent, as if your presence was a background noise he barely registered. No apology. No explanation. Just… silence. The minutes dragged on. You finished the water, ate the crackers, slipped off your shoes and jacket, and still, he hadn’t said a word.

Your patience thinned. You pulled out your phone and started to scroll through Twitter, but the persistent 10% battery notification kept popping up, breaking your focus.

“Where’s your charger?” you asked finally, your tone sharp. You wanted him to feel the same irritation bubbling in your chest, the frustration of being somewhere you weren’t entirely wanted.

His eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “It’s in the bedroom,” he said flatly, clicking off the TV and standing. “I was gonna head to bed anyway.”

He didn’t wait for you, heading up the stairs without a backward glance. You hesitated, annoyance burning hotter in your chest, but you followed. What choice did you have?

He veered into the bathroom as you continued into the bedroom. Plugging your phone into the charger, you sat on the edge of the bed, hands in your lap. The tension in the air was suffocating. You thought you came over for sex, for the magnetic pull he always had on you. But now, sitting there in the quiet, it felt different. Wrong.

What the fuck was his problem?

He came into the room and turned on the lights. The glow immediately shifted the atmosphere—it was that deep, sultry red, the kind that made every surface in the room look warmer, more intimate. He had those color-changing bulbs, the ones you teased him about being too bachelor pad, but right now, they worked. When he asked Alexa to turn them on, the tone in his voice was smooth, commanding, and it sent a small shiver through you.

You crossed your arms, not ready to let the tension fizzle. “Why did you call me here?” you asked abruptly, your voice cut through the sexual tension he built.

He turned, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. “Why did you come?” The pause before his reply was deliberate, calculated, like he wanted to see if you’d flinch first.

“You’re so full of shit, Nick, you know that?” The words came out hot, but your tone wavered somewhere between anger and exhaustion.

“You’re using me like I’m using you,” you continued, “so let’s not pretend we’re here to ‘talk it out.’ But if you’re gonna pull me from a party, the least you could do is wait at the fucking door.”

He didn’t react right away. His dark eyes followed you, studying your every move, every flicker of emotion on your face. Finally, he straightened up, stepping toward you with that maddening, cocky stride. “I didn’t have to beg,” he said coolly, his voice low, almost a whisper. “You would’ve come anyway.”

And then he was in front of you, so close that the heat of him felt tangible. He tilted your chin up with a gentle touch, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“But you’re right,” he said, softer now, his lips barely curved into a smile. “And I’m sorry.”

His brown eyes held yours, and you hated the way your chest tightened in response. The way his apology, half-hearted as it might have been, still made you want to fold. You felt a traitorous flutter below as his gaze lingered.

“I can make it up to you,” he murmured, his smirk growing. Before you could form a reply, he pulled back just enough to whip off his shirt with a single hand, the movement fluid and practiced.

You bit the inside of your lip, unable to stop your eyes from wandering. Nicholas wasn’t just hot—he was infuriatingly perfect. His body was sculpted, all broad chest, chiseled abs, and a taut, defined core. You wanted to stay mad, but it was impossible not to admire the view.

Your hand reached out instinctively, pressing against his stomach to keep some distance between you, but the firmness under your palm only made your thoughts scatter. “Are you really sorry?” you asked, and your voice betrayed you with its softness.

He dropped to his knees with a deliberate slowness, his lips brushing against your neck before trailing to the delicate curve of your collarbone. His tongue lingered there, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Do you really care?” he murmured, the words slipping out between kisses and lazy licks.

You opened your mouth to respond, but it dissolved into a shaky exhale when his hands slid up your thighs, his touch sure and possessive. In one fluid motion, he hooked his fingers into your sparkly stockings and thong, pulling them down with an ease that left you breathless. He never broke contact, his lips still grazing your skin as your breath hitched.

“Scoot back,” he commanded softly, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a promise you couldn’t ignore.

You did as he asked, shifting onto the bed until your back rested against the cool sheets.

“Lay down.”

There was no hesitation in his tone, and again, you complied, your pulse quickening as you watched him. He kissed his way up your thighs, moving deliberately, taking his time with each press of his lips against your skin. You clenched your fists in anticipation, your heart pounding as he drew closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

But then he stopped, hovering just inches away. The pause was excruciating, the air thick with tension. You propped yourself up on your elbows, desperate to see what the hold-up was, only to find him looking up at you with that infuriating smirk.

“Hard to hate me now, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with smugness.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some shred of dignity, but before you could respond, his tongue found you, gliding across your folds with a precision that sent shockwaves through your body.

You were already wet—God, you hated how ready you were for him—and he noticed. The deep, guttural moans that rumbled from him as he tasted you made your legs tremble. Each movement of his tongue was calculated, intentional, drawing out noises from you that you couldn’t suppress even if you tried.

The annoyance you’d felt moments ago melted away, replaced with an all-consuming heat. Nicholas had you unraveling, and the worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.

————

You were coming down from your second orgasm, body trembling, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. The intensity of the moment left your legs weak, barely able to hold you up. Nicholas, still standing tall, reached out to steady you, his grip firm yet gentle. Your knees buckled slightly, and he chuckled low, the sound dripping with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

“I got you, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet commanding with a light chuckle.

You hated how hot that sounded, how it made your stomach flutter despite the exasperation you felt at his confidence. But you didn’t have long to dwell on it because his hands were already moving, cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasted with the hunger in his eyes. He kissed you deeply, his lips claiming yours with a slow intensity that made your toes curl.

When he pulled back, he didn’t waste time. His hands gripped the hem of your black baby tee, yanking it off in one swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, but the warmth radiating from him kept you from feeling cold. His eyes raked over you with a predatory gaze before he spoke, his voice low and firm.

“Take off your skirt and get in whatever position you want.”

The sheer boldness of his tone made your breath catch, his suave command both infuriating and intoxicating. You rolled your eyes slightly, but the corner of your lips twitched in a smirk. Before you obeyed, you grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss. This one was all heat, your lips moving against his with purpose. Your hands roamed down his body, fingers trailing over his toned chest before stopping at his nipples.

You pinched them lightly, earning a sharp inhale from him. He winced, but a grin quickly followed, spreading across his face as he kissed you back.

Your hands moved lower, fingers deftly undoing his belt and the button of his pants. You leaned in close, letting your breath tickle his ear as you whispered, “Take them off.”

Nicholas didn’t hesitate. His pants hit the floor in one smooth motion, and when you dropped to your knees in front of him, you were eye level with the evidence of his arousal. His member strained against the fabric of his briefs, the sight alone making you bite your lip.

You hooked your fingers into the waistband and slowly tugged them down, letting his length spring free. You took a moment to admire him, the thickness and length both impressive and intimidating. Instead of diving straight in, you started soft, pressing kisses along his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your lips.

When you finally took him in your mouth, his reaction was immediate. His head fell back, a deep moan escaping his lips as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip. You traced the veins along his shaft with your tongue, savoring the way his body responded to every movement. His hands found their way into your hair, fingers threading through your tight, coily curls.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure.

You felt his hips begin to move, small, involuntary thrusts into your mouth. Before he could take control, you pulled back slightly, your hand wrapping firmly around his base to still him. He let out a surprised laugh, his chest heaving as he looked down at you with a mix of awe and frustration.

“You’re so nasty I fucking love it,” he muttered.

You didn’t respond, instead taking him deeper into your throat. The sound of your gagging filled the room, and it only seemed to spur him on. His moans grew louder, more guttural, his hands tightening in your hair as he struggled to keep from losing control.

But Nicholas wasn’t one to be outdone. Before you could push him any further, he pulled you up with a strength that left you breathless. His lips crashed into yours, his kiss messy and desperate, tasting himself on your tongue.

In one swift motion, he turned and pushed you onto the bed. You instinctively got on your knees, arching your back in a way that had him muttering something you couldn’t quite make out, though the hunger in his tone was unmistakable. He knelt behind you, his large hands grabbing your ass as he lowered his mouth to your core.

His tongue was relentless, licking and teasing you from behind, the sensation making you cry out. When he finally slid inside you, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that had both of you gasping.

You were soaked, your body offering no resistance, yet the tightness still made him pause for a moment to adjust. His hands gripped your hips as he began to move, his pace steady and controlled. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through you, your moans filling the room as he buried himself deeper.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

His movements were hypnotic, his pace unyielding as he built you up again, your body responding to him as if it were made for this.

Nicholas’s hands gripped your waist firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive strength as he pulled you upright. Your back collided with his broad chest, the heat of his body radiating against yours. Every ridge and contour of his toned frame was pressed into you, the connection intimate and unrelenting. His hips didn’t falter, his thrusts angling deeper, making you gasp as your head fell back against his shoulder.

His hand slid up your body, tracing a line from your hip to your chin. He tilted your face toward him, his fingers gentle yet commanding. The kiss he gave you was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly intimate. It wasn’t the kind of kiss meant to heighten the heat of the moment—it was the kind that left you breathless, spinning, and vulnerable. His lips moved against yours with a purpose that felt like a promise, one you weren’t sure you should believe.

"You’re my favorite," he murmured against your lips, the words low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

The admission stirred something deep inside you, though it was tinged with frustration. You of course knew there were others—there had always been whispers, fleeting glances, and the occasional name dropped in conversation. Yet the way he said it, the way his voice cracked ever so slightly, made you feel singular, special, irreplaceable.

Before you could dwell on the thought, his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers finding your throbbing clit with precision. He rubbed slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The combination was overwhelming, your moans spilling out unbidden, loud and unabashed.

"Let it out," he coaxed, his breath hot against your ear, his voice dripping with encouragement. "I know, baby."

His words sent another wave of pleasure through you, his thumb and fingers working you with infuriating skill. “Tell me how you like it,” he growled, his tone rough, demanding, yet tender.

“Nicholas,” you whimpered, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. “I need you so fucking bad baby,” you managed to gasp, your voice breaking as the pleasure became too much to bear.

He chuckled low, his thrusts growing deeper, each one more deliberate than the last. “I’m here baby, I’m yours” he murmured, his voice softening as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. “Even if I tried, I couldn’t find anyone that feels as good as you.”

The vulnerability in his tone shattered the last of your defenses. That confession, paired with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you, became your undoing.

“Fuck baby I’m gonna cum Nicholas I - ”

“Wait for me,” he interrupted, his voice tight with restraint. “We’ll do it together. Hold out for me, baby.”

It took every ounce of willpower to obey, your fingers clutching the sheets as you teetered on the edge. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder, more desperate, and when he finally whispered, “I’m ready,” it was all you needed.

Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you shattered around him. Every nerve in your body ignited, the pleasure almost too much to bear. Nicholas groaned deeply, his hands gripping your waist as he followed you over the edge, his movements erratic and frenzied as he spilled into you.

You collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving, legs trembling uncontrollably. Nicholas followed you down, his weight comforting as he rested against you for a moment. He pressed a trail of gentle kisses along your shoulder, up the back of your neck, his lips lingering as he whispered, “So good,” his voice now soft, affectionate, and full of unspoken emotion.

After a few moments, you wriggled out from under him, mumbling something about needing the bathroom. Your legs wobbled as you made your way across the room, and when you returned, you saw that Nicholas had laid out your favorite sleep shirt—the oversized one you kept at his place for nights like this. The thoughtful gesture brought a small smile to your lips, but it faded when you noticed his phone resting on the nightstand, its screen lit up with a missed call.

You didn’t think much of it until the phone buzzed again. This time, a girl’s name you didn’t recognize flashed across the screen. A flicker of annoyance crept in, but you quickly rejected the call, not ready to let it intrude on the moment.

Slipping on the shirt, you climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over you. Nicholas turned toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Come here,” he murmured, his tone drowsy but content, his voice still carrying that edge of affection that made it hard to stay guarded.

Despite the lingering curiosity—and the faint sting of the call—you let yourself melt into his warmth. For now, at least, you decided to hold onto the fleeting perfection of the moment.

#lavender baby #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x black reader #nicholas chavez x female reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez fic

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lovexjoe · 7 months ago

Note

how wwould armando react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same way, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥

New follower 💗💗♥️🌷

Amor Prohibido

A/N: This was meant to be short, but I took the idea and ran with it. I hope you guys enjoy🤍 I also flip around with pov; sorry in advance.

Warning: Forbidden love, angst, violence, smut (idk what else im missing 😭)

Music to listen to while reading:

Fuck Love - XXXtentacion ft Trippie Redd.

SAD - XXXtentacion

John Redcorn - SIR

Y/N has been working with AMMO for 2 years now.

Kelly was the firecracker and you were the reserved sweetheart. Just don’t let nobody cross a line cause you’ll turn into an explosive real quick.

Mike and Marcus loved having you around, you brought the balance to the squad.

Being Kelly’s little sister, you were protected by everybody, including your least favorite person: Armando.

You didn’t understand him at all. Stone cold killer trying to turn a new leaf? I don’t think so

The moment Mike brought him into Kelly’s house unannounced was the first time ANYONE has seen you explode.

“What the fuck is he doing here?! He needs to leave NOW” Kelly points her gun directly at Armando.

Without even a hesitation you pulled your pocket knife out and slammed Armando against the wall. Shoving the knife up to his neck, close enough to draw blood.

“I know who you are and if you’re working with us. Do not make us regret it or you WILL be my first body count” Y/N spoke with venom. She couldn’t stand that Captain wasn’t here because of him. All the trouble he's caused. Everyone stops and stares at the two of you.

“Holy shit! Since when did Y/N turned into a Cobra?” Marcus jokes causing the air to lighten up a bit.

“Puedes confiar en mi” (you can trust me) Armando says as he takes in how beautiful her eyes are. He fully understood where she was coming from. He knew he had to show everyone that he wasn’t a stone cold killer: it was his mother who trained him.

From that day forward Armando could not stop thinking about you.

Kelly with hesitation moved Armando into the guest bedroom, across from Y/N room. Y/N wasn't too happy about it, but she gave him a chance to redeem himself.

He was quiet, respectable and kept to himself. Observing everyone like he always does. Observing his new favorite person, you.

8 months later

Armando was up late after a mission with AMMO. He was on standby as Y/N flirts with the drug dealer to distract him. She looked beautiful under the club lights. Her tan skin was glowing and her curly hair framing her face. The dress she was wearing took his breath away. He's never seen her in this light. She's usually in a tomboy attire just cause it was comfortable and convenient. This was the first time she wasn't on tech duty, Dorn's therapist recommended he took a rest from the action so Y/N volunteered herself. He was happy she was here, but it drove him crazy that she had to flirt with this old fuck. The man trailed his hands along her exposed back. It took everything in Armando not to put a bullet through his head and accept whatever consequences that came with it. Shortly Rita appeared along with Mike to arrest the drug dealer, putting an end to his torture. Y/N headed back into the van with Armando following behind her: watching her back just in case. Mike took notice that he never left her side. He knew his son, because they were exactly alike and hoped Y/N could bring a softer side out of him. Their friendship was forming, Y/N saw a side to Armando that nobody else did and she finally trusted him. She would never admit to it though, because with that trust comes with other feelings she wanted to lock away. It felt wrong to her. More like forbidden.

After they got home, everyone parted ways to their designated space. He's been thinking about her in that dress all night. It was 3am and sleep was definitely not in the air for tonight. He started to collect the dishes he had scattered around the room, irritated he let it get a bit messy. As he exits his room he notices the door to Y/N's bedroom was open. The kitchen light was on, the sink running as Y/N was clearing up the dishes that piled up the sink for over a week. The whole house was slacking on cleanliness.

"Can't sleep?" He asks as he sets his dishes on the counter next to her. Now leaning against it as she shook her head looking up at him. His heart skipped a beat taking in her nightly attire. A baby blue silk nightie that hugged her curves. Her curly mane was up in a messy bun and her glasses set low on her nose as she didn't bother fixing it.

"I've been so restless for the past two weeks" She shook her head, trying to make sense of why. She signals her head for him to put the dishes away as she washes; He complies. Armando would comply to anything that you said honestly. He loved that it was just the two of you right now with no interruptions. They never talked much, just enjoyed each other's presence. Maybe tonight could end differently he thought to himself.

"You did a great job tonight amor. It was nice having you away from the computer." He places the last dish in the cabinet and proceed to grab a bottle of alcohol walking over to the couch. Everything in you was screaming to go back to your room and not entertain this conversation further, but your body was already seated next to him. He took a sip from the bottle without even a struggle, handing the bottle off to you. You took a huge gulp knowing you need some liquid coverage if you're gonna stay up with him at these hours. You knew why you were restless for the past two weeks, it was the exact time when you started developing these other feelings for Armando. The best thing you can do is DENY DENY DENY. After all he's still a bad person right? A few months doesn't mean anything...right? Yet you trusted him entirely, none of this made fucking sense.

"Qué estás pensando?" (What are you thinking about?) He studies her worried face, deep in her thoughts; wishing she'd let him in. She turns her body to completely face him, her bare legs resting on his.

"Are you happy here?" Your eyes searched his, hoping to find something...a soul maybe? Some reassurance that he's on the path of making himself a better man.

" Happy? I don't know what that is fully. But I can say, when I'm here with you I'm at peace." He spoked openly for the first time, his hand grazing against your exposed leg. At this point you were just looking into each other's eyes, wishing one of you would make the move first. He took his whole being not to show you how much he worships you on this couch, but he does not want to disrespect you in any way. Your body felt so hot, yearning for his touch. Slowly your head was leaning in, both of you breathing uneasy, his hand resting on your cheek; lips so close but not touching just yet. You never felt this way about anyone before. Relationships, feelings all of that love bullshit was so new to you. Love? Do you love him? No it definitely can't be. You shoved the thought away as you pulled away.

"I-I have to go" You set the bottle down, hurrying to your room and locking the door. Armando curses to himself for even entertaining what had happened. You were curled up in bed when you heard the front door slammed. He had left to god knows where and you hugged your pillow wishing it was him.

1 week later

The two of you have not spoken a word to each other since the almost kiss.

Armando had returned at 10am that morning with no emotion towards Y/N at all.

She went back on tech duty until today.

The tension could be cut with a knife the whole team noticed.

"You two lovebirds are fighting aren't you?" Mike teased.

You rolled your eyes as you prep your ammo before you made it to your destination. This is something Armando already had done for you anytime you were on a mission with him; today was not that day.

He felt guilty as he watched you out of his peripheral but he felt like it was time he stop pursuing this. If you wanted him you would have kissed him that night: not run away.

Callie has been kidnapped along with Mike's wife. We received coordinates on where they were being held hostage.

As you reached the destination, both you and Armando scooped out the scene. You felt something off about the coordinates.

Once you two made it inside, you heard crying that sounded like Callie. Armando signals you to stay as quiet as possible as you guys make your way through the abandon building.

Once you guys got closer to the voice, you both realize it was just a recording.

"Its a TRAP!! BOTH OF YOU ABORT NOW" Mike and Marcus yelled over the intercom.

Before you could even try to escape there were already men surrounding you guys. Gunshots being the only sound that filled the air. The both of you, took as many men as you could, with the help of the drone assisting. Armando hated more than anything to see you shed blood, but those combat training days you two had was worth it. You could hold your own. Your surroundings got quiet, as you shove a knife through your enemy's neck. You turned around hoping to see Armando following you, but you froze in your steps. Mcgrath had his gun pointed at you ready to shoot. You guys were out of ammo, the drone gave out and any slight movement Mcgrath would kill you.

Everything slowed down, you felt your world stopped as Armando jumps in front of you causing Mcgrath to let out 3 shots. Armando taking the impact of all of them. You heard the rifle go off after, Mcgrath being taken down by a headshot. You immediately wrapped your arms around Armando, trying to find any way to stop the bleeding. This can't be happening right now. No no no no. You applied as much pressure as you could.

"Armando please stay with me, I can't lose you. Please" You cried and screamed for help. Mike and Marcus rushed in helping you take Armando into ambulance. You REFUSED to leave his side. The nurses had to pry you and Mike off of him so they could take him into surgery.

Armando started off hated by everyone, but over the past few months he truly became family. You sat down on the floor of the lobby, looking down at your bloodstain hands and your heart broke. Will you ever get a chance to tell him how you really feel? He jumped in front of a gun for you with no hesitation. Callie and Mike's wife was safe, the rest of Ammo took care of the mission while you and Mike were on standby waiting for Armando's results.

3 hours later

You laid next to Armando's bedside, holding his hand waiting for him to wake up. Mike left a few minutes before, thanking you for staying with him as he returns to his wife.

"I love you so much" You whispered against his hand, placing a soft kiss against it.

"I love you too mi amor. Más de lo que jamás sabrás" (More than you will ever know) He says softly, squeezing your hand reassuring that everything is okay. With no hesitation you pressed your lips against his, both of you moaning into each other's lips.

"I had to get shot 3 times for you to finally kiss me mami" You both started laughing.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

4 months later

Armando was finally healed and better than ever. Rita released both of you on a well needed vacation. The two of you avoided any of "those" activities till the doctor cleared him. Everyone was finally relieved to see you two engulfed in each other; the angst was truly unbearable. You guys had the house to yourself after returning from your romantic dinner. His lips immediately on yours after he locks the front door. Melting into his touch as he pushes you against the hallway of your bedroom, leaving hickeys on your neck and he didn't give a fuck.

"Mando" You let out a soft cry as he sucks on your weak spot right below your ear.

"Recién estoy empezando princesa" (I'm just getting started princess) He whispers as he slips his fingers under your dress, rubbing you through your underwear. Your little cries only ignited his dominate side even more. He rips your underwear causing it to fall to your feet, teasing you with one finger.

"You're so wet" He works a second finger in causing your legs to weaken. He pumps his finger harder and faster till your pussy started to make a squelch sound.

"Baby! Im squirting I'm squirting please!" Your orgasm dripped down his hand, he smiles to himself taking in his view. His girl, completely weak in her knees for him and the night just started. He wraps your legs around his waist carrying you into the bedroom.

"You came like a good girl for me baby." He gives you your well deserve praise as he lays you down, removing your dress and his clothes. His size and length definitely matched his attitude. The kisses were hot and messy as you aligned him with your entrance. As he slips in, you both couldn't help the sounds escaping from your mouths. His thrusts were slow and deep causing your eyes to tear up from the intense pleasure. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder for a better angle. The sound of pants and skin slapping was all that could be heard in that room.

"I love you" You both said in unison as you came as the same time. He collapse on your chest and you played with his hair. You didn't speak for a little bit, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Estoy feliz aqui" (I am happy here) He says as he kisses your chest.

The End

#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #jacob scipio #bad boys

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buuniebaby · 7 months ago

Text

HOME TO ME - HAMZAH X LATINA!READER 🎀

hiii! first of all i wanna make a quick note - very sorry for the inconsistency in posting for a few days. ive been struggling with writers block and summer bedrotting is getting to me a lil. 😓😓

there were A LOT of drafts of this fic that i picked up and then didn’t like. a big part of that is that i really wanted to make a fic that hits sort of close to home, and that’s what this one is to me! i was born in nicaragua and moved to the us at a young age, so this fic is based off of my experiences relating to that, even down to little things like my parents and their broken english lol. i still tried to make it pretty ambiguous to other latin-american countries, so I hope it isn’t too specific. it took me a long time to write, but im really happy with the way it came out after a day or two of really thinking about it.

this fic includes: lots of fluff, then it gets nasty. mirror sex, nothing too rough 🤗

wc: 3.4k

Your childhood summers haven’t changed since the last time you stepped foot here, even though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. you’re home, and you’ve brought your boyfriend along with you this time.

the sun shines down on you, a little too hot for your liking. it’s a lot hotter down here than the canadian weather you’re used to. it’s different, but comforting at the same time. what really makes the biggest change is the sight of your boyfriend, rays of sunlight beaming down on him, framing his curls perfectly. it makes you feel at home just as much as being here does.

the air is warm and sticky, thick with remnants of a heavy rain. sweat clings to areas of exposed skin, dampening his shirt collar and hair with a sweat.

you don’t think you’ve loved the latin-american summer as much as you have seeing hamzah bask under it.

showing your boyfriend around your home country feels like the world around you is unreal. it’s like two universes colliding - ones that probably shouldn’t coexist.

one of the things that really makes you feel like you’re out of your own body is walking down the same road that baby-you walked down to get to school. if you could’ve told your middle school self that you bagged a man this bad she would’ve forgiven you for not marrying her celebrity crush.

and the food is what really gets you - the flavor of nostalgia mixing with the taste of your boyfriend’s lips is an otherworldly sensation. although you can’t get him too full yet; that’s a job for your family.

speaking of your family - hamzah is terrified.

he tries looking extra nice at first. he wants to make a good impression, just like you’ve told him to - it’s why he’s surprised you’re bursting out in laughter seeing him walk out in full black tie attire.

“you don’t have to dress like you’re going to a wedding, hamzah-“ you giggle when he speaks over you, trying to defend himself.

“you told me to look nice, and we’re going to a dinner, y’know-“ he rambles, but catches himself. “and you’re wearing a dress!”

you roll your eyes, giving him a dead stare. “this a a sundress, hamzah. it’s not like.. fancy.” he looks at you blankly back. it’s like there’s not a single thought behind his eyes.

after your criticism and a lot of banter, you’ve got him dressed up more.. how you would have envisioned. he’s got those glasses on - the ones he usually edits with. and god, he looks good. he’s paired those with a polo shirt and a nice pair of jeans; he looks nice, presentable, but not over the top.

you’re knocking on the door while he almost shyly stands behind you before you know it. it takes a good few seconds for you to receive any sort of response, but you’re used to it. once someone eventually comes to the door, you’re greeted with the sound of children squealing in the background and music playing off a speaker - the loud environment you’re most used to.

you think you can see hamzah sweating.

your mom greets you with two little cheek kisses, as always, then smothers you into a hug. “muy linda,” she presses another kiss to your forehead, “mi alma.” she eventually finishes her ramblings about how beautiful you are and how much she’s missed you, then pauses as she pulls back. hamzah flinches.

she’s eyeing him down, eyebrows furrowed with a hand on her hip. It’s the death glare - one you know very well. if he wasn’t sweating before he definitely is now, and you’re even close to breaking into one.

hamzah doesn’t even have time to panic before her angry demeanor snaps into laughter. she’s giggling at the way his smile had dropped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into that same little cheek kiss. he stumbles when she does it, not knowing what to do; an anxious fluster of sorts.

she pulls away looking at you, and her giggles turn into straight-up laughter.

“he look at me so scared.. he like, ‘i already messed up!’” she says, still laughing, now imitating hamzah’s flustered appearance. her English is slightly broken, as you expected, but it’s the way she tries for you is what really counts. she’s putting in the effort. you laugh with her, but not really at what she’s saying - it’s the way she’s already made herself comfortable around your boyfriend.

“y tu eres el novio, verdad?” your father says, pointing at hamzah, managing to creep up behind your mother without you even noticing. “you going to marry her?”

you awkwardly laugh at your father and how weird he has to make things, but that’s just how your family is. hamzah doesn’t mind it, he understands - nonchalantly smiling, looking down at you as he replies with a quick “hope so.”

you giggle back, but your smile is genuine - you know he’s serious about what he just said. “maybe one day.” you continue for him.

you two enter your house and he’s already being crowded by relatives of yours. he’s introducing himself to one of your tías when he feels something tugging on the leg of his pants, startling him. he looks down only to see your baby cousin staring up at him, big beady eyes and an open mouth, almost like he’s some sort of god.

around an hour later, hamzah is about a beer and two plates of food in to the family function. he’s sitting on the floor, a doll in his hand, playing with that same prima from before. you’re not even sure if they’re communicating, if that baby can even speak any language yet, but whatever they’re doing hamzah.. seems to be enjoying himself.

it’s funny, but it’s sweet at the same time, watching your boyfriend like this. it makes you think of your future together. marrying him, taking him into your family - even watching him play with your little prima makes you fall ill with baby fever. he would be an amazing girl dad.

by the end of the night, hamzah is starting to get a little bit plastered, and your mom is already calling him mijo. you’re trying to teach him how to dance to your country’s music (which he surprisingly happens to not be bad at) while also trying to sneak a few drinks yourself. you’re running back to the bathroom when your mom catches you, pulling you aside for a second.

you tilt your head at her, confused. you’re hoping this isn’t what you’ve been nervous about the whole night - you really, really don’t want a “we don’t like this boy” talk.

instead, she smiles, which wipes away most of your worry, but you’re still staring at her reluctantly.

“te vas a casar con este chico.” she mutters, smiling. she might be a little drunk herself from the way she’s talking, but you know there’s a truth to her words. you smile back a small grin, but it means more to you than what appears - your man is locked in. even your mom agrees, he’s the one.

thank the lord.

the party dies down after a while, baby cousin and older relatives drifting off to their bedrooms one by one. you somehow find yourself sitting on your parent’s couch, cuddled up in a blanket next to hamzah. you’re both a little tipsy, what you would say is fine enough to drive, but you already know your mother will argue against you.

“y’wanna get out of here too?” hamzah whispers, voice deep and soft in your ear.

“mhmm.” you say, comfortable in his arms. “wanna stay here for a second though.”

hamzah doesn’t complain, gently rubbing your shoulder underneath the blanket with his forefinger and thumb. it’s domestic, a gentle touch, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“was cute seeing you play with my prima.” you mumble, smiling to yourself at the memory. he laughs when he picks up on what you’re talking about.

“I don’t really think I understood what was going on like, that whole time.” he begins to ramble. “I think her barbies were like, beefing and shit.” he says, smiling down at you when he sees the way you light up with laughter.

“if we ever like, get married, i wanna have a girl.” you say. he’s quick to rebut you.

“that’s not how it works.” he argues back, stupidly.

“well then, like, we just have more.” you say, the mix of alcohol and sleepiness not giving you the energy to seriously discuss this with him. “you’d make a good girl dad, i think.”

he smiles at that comment. he’s seen it around on tiktok and other social media. he thinks it’s cute, and suddenly the idea of marriage and knocking you up doesn’t seem so scary to him. that gentle touch on your shoulders is moving down to your hips before you know it. you’re both aware that you can’t do anything on your family couch, but you know the intention behind his grip.

“i think you’d be a good boy mom.” he says back. “i could see you like, teaching him how to cook and stuff. i think if you had a baby boy he would be like, really respectful, not like brain-rotted.” you laugh at the stupidity of his comments.

“i think if you raised a boy, he would end up going down like, the alt right pipeline, and start watching andrew tate clips on youtube shorts.”

you both laugh at that - it’s obvious that you’re joking now, but you still enjoy the deprecating banter.

“if my kid doesn’t reach alpha male status, im sending his ass to the frontlines.”

you continue your painfully stupid chatter, not paying attention to how dark it’s getting.

your mother eventually creeps up to you, and you take it as a sign that you should probably start making your way out.

after saying your final goodbyes to your family members who are still standing awake, you’re making your way out the door. after a few cheek kisses and repeatedly denying the “no cab? you sure?” from your mom, you two are on the way back to your hotel.

hamzah’s hand is on your thigh as he drives. it’s another domestic touch that drives you crazy. the little things are really getting to you tonight.

“you’re good with kids.” you mumble, letting your thoughts out with no warning.

“yeah?” is all hamzah says, keeping his eyes on the road and his hand on your thigh.

“yeah.” you repeat back in a breathier tone.

“im not getting you pregnant right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, still focused on the road. “I’ll cum inside you, but I can’t handle a baby yet-”

“hamzah!” you nearly yell. “i don’t mean- i mean yeah, that’s a part of it, but like- i guess you’re just like-“ you stutter, trying to gather your flustered self. “it’s like, a domestic thing I guess. makes me wanna settle down with you one day.”

despite how nonchalant he’s acting, he gets exactly what you’re saying.

“yeah. y’know, that little sundress you’re wearing?” hamzah starts, eyes tearing off the road for a second. “that’s like, wife shit.”

you giggle at the way he says it, but you’re flattered at the intention.

“kinda surprised you liked it that much. feel like guys think sundresses are just like, skin-tight skims dresses.”

“you look fucking hot in it, are you serious? like shit, maybe i will just get you pregnant if you’re wearing that.” hamzah pauses for a moment, looking over at you while your eyes widen. “i’m joking. by the way.” you let out a soft “aww,” making a soft smile creep onto his face.

“you don’t have to tonight. i’m joking.” you smile up at him. “but i do miss the feeling of you inside me.” you can tell that you’re at least getting to him a little bit; he’s starting to get riled up.

“duh,” he says, jokingly, but his tone changes with his next words. “ill cum all over that fuckin’ dress if you really want me to.”

there’s the hamzah you were looking for.

he’s already pulling the car you two rented into the parking lot of your hotel, and you can’t even speak before the silence is interrupted with his own thoughts.

“gonna be all over you the second we get to our fucking room.” he mutters, opening his car door. as both of you get out, you can see the hard-on already somewhat formed through his pants.

you love getting him worked up like this.

checking into the room is almost painful. he stands behind you as you speak in spanish to the hotel staff, cock pressed up right against your ass. you’re stuttering as she asks you for your reservation, knowing you’re about to get fucking destroyed.

he wasn’t lying about being all over you. the minute that keycard clicks and the door is open, you’re being shoved onto the bed, hamzah crawling on top of you.

it’s a pretty hotel room - you’re taking it all in as hamzah is on top of you. huge bathroom, silky sheets, relatively good size, yet there’s one thing that sticks out to you. there’s a long mirror, placed at the side of the bed.

it’s the perfect place to get fucked in front of.

you don’t even think hamzah has taken a glance at the architecture around him from the way he’s locked in on your body. you feel his hands gravitate against different areas of your body, resting on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh through your dress. he places a soft, warm kiss to your lips, but continues with a harsher, more sloppy one. it only continues on your neck, biting and kissing down to your collarbone.

he keeps his lips in a certain place for a second, and you already know you’re going to be covering up dark spots on your neck tomorrow.

“pretty,” is all he mumbles when he pulls off, moving down to add yet another bite to your neck.

he pulls the top of your sundress down a little bit, straps going over your shoulders. it’s just enough to free your bra, which he pulls off even quicker.

his mouth is all over your tits before you know it - as expected. he’s sucking at them, licking at the nipple while the other hand fondles the soft flesh around. you can feel him getting harder against your thigh, which you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated with how fucking tight his pants are getting, cock getting harder by the second. he quickly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles - he’s a little too horny to take the effort to fully pull them down. when he pulls off his boxers he lets out a sigh, letting his cock free.

you readjust to do the same, pulling at the straps of your dress, but hamzah stops you, a large hand covering yours.

“want you to keep it on.”

yes sir.

you pull the straps back up to where they should regularly be, wearing your sundress like normal, just braless. hamzah takes a minute to catch his breath, but it’s hard when you’re under him looking like that. he takes in his surroundings a little bit more as he calms down, finally noticing the mirror to his side. you can tell by the look on his face that he’s got the same idea as you.

his focus lands back on you when he turns back to look you in the eyes, gently stroking himself. his hips roll softly into his hand, pumping himself loosely in his fist. he takes his other hand and pulls your dress up just enough to see your underwear.

he’s too lazy to get them off your body, so he just pushes them to the side, a finger sliding between the soft lips to your entrance. it emits a gasp from you, even though you were expecting it.

“you look so fucking good from here.” he says, breathy. your brows furrow for a second, confused as to what he means by ‘from here,’ but then you realize where his eyes are pointed -

- the mirror.

you turn your head to look at it too, and god, he isn’t wrong. the way his hands strain, groping at your thighs while he grazes against your cunt. it’s hotter than you had expected, the idea of seeing yourself get destroyed from multiple angles.

he presses a finger into you, and you flinch at the feeling. it’s not long before he’s sliding another one in with it, pulling at your hips with his strong arms to bring you down to his knuckles. you’re looking at yourself in the mirror as he does it, watching as he pushes you around like a toy.

he pulls his fingers out after curling them a few times inside of you, and you protest by trying to buck up your hips up again. he pushes on your womb with big hands, forcing you down.

“s’okay baby.” he affirms you in a soft voice. “wanna fuck you now.”

he grabs you by the waist, strong enough to pick you up with just his bare hands and flip you over. he presses your bodies close together once you’re on your hands and knees, your back against his chest. he nestles his head right above your neck, the perfect spot to whisper into your ear.

“look in the mirror,” he starts, and you immediately do what he says. “watch how fucking good you look while I touch you.”

your back arches as an instinct at his words, feeling his palms glide against your hips. your vision feels hazy, but you’re still paying attention to the way he clings onto soft skin.

you let out a whine, shutting your eyes and facing down when he touches your inner thighs, but it doesn’t last long. before you can finish his hand rushes to your jaw, grabbing your face, pointing your head back to the mirror.

“told you to look at yourself, baby.”

it’s hot, the way he’s in control of you, even if it doesn’t take much to get you to submit. he kisses at your shoulder blade softly, watching your desperate expression fade into excitement. he strokes himself one last time before the tip meets your pussy.

your breath hitches when you feel him slide into you, strokes slow. it fits in you nicely, the back of your thighs pressing against his when he’s all the way in. a finger and thumb caress the skin between your ass and hips while he bottoms out.

“c’mon baby,” he says, slowly starting to drag his hips in and out of you. “move those hips.”

you can’t argue with him, doing what he says on command. you roll your hips back the same way you roll your eyes, creating a rhythm with his thrusts. it earns a moan from him.

he grips your hips while his speed up, moving in and out of you with an unforgiving pace. it’s enough to send you reeling, squealing as you struggle to keep your focus on the mirror. you can barely keep your composure, the urge to shove your head in your pillow and just let him use you stronger than ever.

“wasn’t- fuck- lying when I told you I wanna come all over that dress.” he says, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you clench around him, his words driving you to your own finish.

you’re screaming a “hamzah! can’t fucking take it-“ while he’s plowing into you, building up a well-awaited orgasm. he waits until he feels that clench-and-pulse sensation around his cock, signaling that you’ve came before he pulls out.

he doesn’t even need to touch himself to cum after seeing you like this - he lets himself go, ropes of his semen covering the floral patterns of your dress.

he basks in the sight of you for a moment, catching his breath after his orgasm. it’s a lot for him, fucking you after being pent up the whole day. overstimulating, almost. you’re just that attractive to him, poor boy can’t control himself.

he lays on top of your chest, grounding himself. the feeling of being against you bare skin is comforting to him, a sense of home that you two both find in each other. you run your hands through the curls of his hair.

that’s what he is to you - home. just like how it feels to be here.

#hamzah smut #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahsmut #latina reader

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foreingersgod · 9 months ago

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what about like a paige x reader like they met on vacation somewhere during a break and then they hooked up or something thinking they would never see eachother again but turns out reader is the new uconnwbb team manager

Naked in Manhattan . PB

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: you were devastated to face the reality that you’d never get to see your one night stand while on vacation, but maybe the universe has other plans for you

new crush

high school love again

it was finally spring break. no more midterms or study sessions to worry about, just your feet in the sand and a drink in your hand. you and your roommates had planned a small trip to california to celebrate the hard work you’d all put in for the semester. nothing too extravagant, just a quaint beach house right off the coast to let all of your worries wash away.

it was beautiful, just big enough for the 4 of you. when you had arrived you were practically planning out everything you would be doing. a week of doing nothing but sitting on a soft towel, bathing in the sun, listening to the waves crash while you read your book sounded like heaven.

but your roommates had other plans for you. they had heard about a ‘beach bro party’, whatever the hell that was, that a local fraternity was throwing. anyone and every was was apparently invited. the second the raggedy flyer hit the cool marble counter tops of your air b&b, you knew any plans of relaxation were gone.

so there you were on your second night of vacation, crammed into the single bathroom with your roommates, doing your makeup and hair for this dumb party. if it weren’t for the girls begging you to come, you truly would have stayed behind. but they were too convincing and now you were here, shoving your boobs into the most uncomfortable bra known to man and dousing yourself in perfume.

after about 30 minutes at the frat party you were about ready to call it quits. the drinks were absolutely foul (you were sure it was straight acid) and the lights and heavy music were giving you a blaring headache. spring break was starting to feel less and less fun as you pretended to enjoy whatever the hell was going on in that house. you didn’t know anyone, your roommates had ditched you for some random frat guys, and you didn’t have the keys to get back home. in hopes that you could wait it out, you snuck off into a corner of the house, taking a seat on the cigarette smoke infused sofa.

you tried to distract yourself until at least one of your roommates was finished fucking around with a guy so you could leave. closing your eyes, fiddling with the frayed threads of your shorts, scrolling on your phone, nothing helped to kill the boredom. you were about ready to stand up and drag your friends out the door yourself until someone approached the couch, taking a seat next to you.

she had a drink in hand, half empty, still laughing about something someone shouted across the room. she was tall, blonde, and if you were being honest, smoking hot. you glanced at her briefly to try and study her face, trying not to make it too obvious. her hair was pulled back into a flattering ponytail, body clad in a black tshirt and jeans, teeth a sparkling white as you watched her smile and laugh. she was definitely your type.

but eventually, your stares began to linger a little bit too long and she caught you. her eyes meeting with yours just before you could turn away.

“you good?” she asked, setting her drink down the on coffee table.

“hm?” you asked, trying to sound oblivious “yea i’m fine”

“are you sure, cause you keep looking over here”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you felt her gaze linger on you, too nervous to make eye contact with her.

“yea,” she laughed, scoffing under her breath “sure you don’t”

“i’m serious, i think you’re a bit drunk cause i genuinely don’t”

“well i’m sober enough to know that you keep staring at me when im not looking soooo”

“why would i being staring at you, huh?” you retorted “a bit full of yourself?”

“maybe it’s because, i don’t know, you see something you like?” now she was just fucking with you. she had this stupid, lopsided grin on her face as she watched your jaw drop in offense.

“oh please”

“i don’t know,” she said “you hesitated there, think i’m right”

you resisted rolling your eyes “and so what? god forbid i look at an attractive woman? my bad”

“so you admit then?” she questioned “that’s why you were staring?”

“if that makes you feel better? then sure, yes that’s why i was staring” you bit your lip and watched as her tongue darted between her teeth, swiping her bottom lip. she eyed you up and down, eyes darkening.

“it actually does” she scooted closer to you, arm extending past you to lay across the back of the couch “what’s your name?”

“…YN” your breathe caught in your throat as her thigh came in contact with yours. “you?”

“paige”

The rush of slumber party kissing

somewhere in between the banter and the alcohol, paige’s tongue found its way down your throat. she had so politely invited you upstairs while her hands were already making their way up you shirt. you obliged and followed her upstairs to some abandoned bedroom while you tried to ignore the aching feeling between your legs.

the door gently clicked behind you as you shut it. when you turned around, paige was already pressing you against the wall. her lips finding their way to your neck and sucking lightly at the smooth skin. you audibly moaned, fingers automatically diving into her scalp and tugging lightly at her blonde locks.

you shuddered when you felt her fingers against the skin of your abdomen again, creeping their way up your shirt like they had previously. she stopped at the bottom of your bra as she pulled away from your neck.

“this ok?” she asked.

you hummed in response, nodding your head violently, taking her face in your hands to plant a passionate kiss on her lips. with little hesitation, she was already pulling your top over your head and unclasping your bra, hands desperately squeezing at your breasts as she backed you up towards the bed.

with lips still attached, the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed causing you to fall onto your back gently. paige followed and climbed atop your body, not letting her hands off of you.

out of breathe and wanting more, you pulled away, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. “can i?”

she didn’t need to hear anymore. the black piece of fabric was already being thrown to the floor, revealing her sports bra which you also tore off her. what a lovely sight to see, you thought.

not long after, both of your pants were discarded, then your panties, and then her boxers. she planted wet kisses down your abdomen, throwing your legs over her shoulders as she made herself comfortable between your thighs.

“is this crazy?” you panted. you managed to bite back a moan of pleasure to look down at her, seeing her look up at you with eyes blown with lust.

“maybe a little” she said “but i can’t help myself”

Don't touch, I'll never cross the line

So I pushed you down a million times

waves crashed against the shore outside, chatter of people walking by slithered past the window of this foreign room you were in. your head was throbbing as you rose from your slumber, you definitely had too much to drink.

shuffling sounded from the other side of the room, causing you to fully wake. you looked over, pulling up the sheets above your bare body, to see paige was already awake. she was almost completely dressed, buttoning up her pants and lacing up her sneakers.

“was i that bad?”

her head snapped in your direction, startled to hear your voice. part of her wanted you to say it again, liking the way the it groveled from the early hours of the morning.

“no” she laughed, offering a smile “you were amazing actually”

“you weren’t too bad yourself”

she was beginning to look around for her keys and wallet, seemingly ignoring you as you remained in bed, still naked and vulnerable.

your brain was screaming at you, begging you to call out to her. part of you wanted to ask for her number, ask for her to stay with you. but the other part of you knew what this was, this wasn’t a date or anything serious. sure, you had developed a liking to paige over the course of the night you spent together. how could you not? she absolutely worshipped you, made you erupt with pleasure, was so sweet to you. this wasn’t something you wanted to let go. but it was unrealistic, you lived miles away from here in another state and paige most definitely had her own things to worry about. pursuing her was not in your cards.

so you kept your mouth shut, watching her shove her keys into her pocket. you assumed she’d just walk out, mutter a goodbye and leave, but she paused and turned to you.

“i-uh, don’t normally do things like that” she said, trying not to look at the outline of your body beneath the duvet “but i wanted to say thanks. i know that that’s cringe, but it’s true. you were…unforgettable”

you could tell she was going through the same thing. mind swamped with conflicting emotions, wanting to stay to see how this played out but also forcing herself to be realistic.

“you too” you gave her a bittersweet smile.

she just nodded at you before heading to the door, fingers wrapping around the cold metal handle.

“bye, YN”

“bye, paige”

and just like that, she was gone. maybe in another lifetime you’d get more time.

I'd love if you knew you were on my mind

Constant like cicadas in the summertime

every since that morning, paige had invaded your thoughts. the remaining time you had on vacation was spent obsessing over what could have been, what might have happened if you just asked for her number. spring break didn’t even seem fun anymore. you didn’t join your friends as they explored the shops in the city or attend anymore parties they managed to scope out. instead you went to the beach, like you originally intended, letting your mind wander as you listened to the ocean. something in you wished that the nagging feeling would eventually go away.

it never did though. even after break was long over, all of you heading home and resuming your schoolwork, she was still on your mind. it made it difficult to do anything. getting homework done, attending lectures, going out on weekends. it was useless because all you could think about was paige. your heart ached as daydreams of her consumed you.

back at UCONN you were doing your best to keep motivated. trying to rid your mind of a foolish dream that you knew was never going to come true. you tried joining clubs and making new friends just to distract yourself. you had even gone so far as to get a new job for the university, taking on the position as the assist team manager for their women’s basketball team. it was a perfect match: you, someone with a general liking and background for basketball who needed to get her life back in order, and a team who was thriving and needed all the help they could get.

Boys suck and girls I've never tried

And we both know we're getting drunk tonight

you woke up at 6:00 am on the dot. it was going to be your first day on the job and you wouldn’t be caught looking unpresentable, so you made sure to give yourself time to get ready.

it was a lovely day as you stepped outside of your apartment building. birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the traffic was light enough that it didn’t give you a migraine. you made the decision to walk to work, let your thoughts dissipate as you tried to enjoy a relaxing morning.

the walk, like you had hoped, was freeing. you didn’t feel as anxious anymore as you walked into the building, ready to tackle the trials of the day. being the new girl, you had to go through all the new orientation material. get your ID picture taken, fill out some paperwork, the whole process. then it was time to meet with geno and the rest of the management crew.

“you must be YN” he shook your hand firmly “it’s nice to meet you”

“the pleasure is all my mine” you grinned. you made your way around the room, introducing yourself to any unfamiliar faces and learning more about what the job would entail. after some light mingling, geno found you again.

“the girls are out there warming up right now, are you ready to get acquainted with team?”

“definitely”

shoes squeaked against the glossy gym floor, heavy breathing filled the room as you followed geno into the gym. you watched as the girls made shots, passed the ball, and ran drills with ease. it was quite impressive. geno had hollered for them to gather upon your entrance, signaling for them to form a circle so he could introduce you.

you stood timidly next to him, watching the girls round up. trying to inspect each girl carefully as they approached the huddle. they all looked extremely kind. a few offered you a smile or a wave and you smiled in return.

then, as geno began talking, the final few girls joined the group. the last girl in particular had grabbed your attention. you couldn’t see her face very well, only able to catch glimpses of her as she pushed her way through to the front. but when she emerged past the front row, your heart skipped a beat and your breathe caught in your throat. you wouldn’t miss that familiar blonde in a thousand years.

“this is going to be the newest member of the team,” geno stepped aside, putting you on the spotlight “YN, she’s our new assistant team manager. i expect you all to get to know each other and play nice. i’m looking at you paige”

it hadn’t felt real until you heard her name. like it was ingrained in your mind, you finally found the courage to lock eyes with her. there she was in all her glory, staring back at you in disbelief. while everyone else laughed at geno’s innocent joke, greeting you briefly before heading back to their warmups, you and paige remained frozen. she stood across from you, confused expression on her face. you felt like you couldn’t move, like you couldn’t breathe.

“YN” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“paige”

she looked over her shoulder, assessing to see if anyone was paying attention before walking over to you. paige lightly grabbed your forearm, leading you off the gym floor and into a more secluded corner of the building. you had to admit, it only took that one touch to make your heart start racing again.

“what are you doing here?” she asked, now that you were in a private area.

“what am i doing here?” you asked in return “what are you doing here?”

“well obviously i play basketball here”

“ok smart ass,” you rolled your eyes, she hadn’t changed much “i just meant that i had no idea you were going to be here”

“i thought you knew” she breathed “when we met, i thought you knew who i was. i thought that’s why you were staring at me that night”

“of course i didn’t know!” you were unsure what to say.

“have you really been at UCONN this whole time?” she continued “oh my god this is insane”

“what are the odds, right?”

“i thought i’d never see you again”

“me neither” you said before an uncomfortable silence fell between you. nor you or paige had ever expected to see each other again, accepting your fate that you would evidently go your separate ways.

“so what now?” she asked.

“would you…i don’t know what to get a drink or something?” a poor attempt at asking her out “that sounded really fucking dumb, but i’d like to catch up”

“yea,” she scratched the back of neck, trying to hide the goofy smile that formed on her lips “i’d like that”

Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine

Could go to hell but we'll probably be fine

the dress you were wearing was practically suffocating you. neckline scratching your chest, straps digging into your shoulders, hemline riding up your thighs every time you moved. the bar stool you sat at was of no comfort, either. you shifted uncomfortably as you looked around the bar, waiting for any sign of paige. you had made plans for the weekend to meet up so you could make up for lost time.

the night was beginning to drag on and it was getting awfully close to 8:00 pm. you hoped she wasn’t going to stand you up. but, as if on cue, the door to the bar opened revealing a very exasperated paige. she spotted you there, alone with a drink already in front of you.

“hey i’m so sorry” she apologized for her near tardiness “traffic was a bitch”

“it’s ok, was just worried you’d stand me up” you joked.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world”

you blushed, looking down at your drink. paige ordered one of her own before finally settling in the seat next to yours. you didn’t think she could look anymore beautiful, seeing her there with her hair cascading around her face and dressed in neat clothing. she eyed you carefully, it was starting to seem like a habit the way she kept sneaking glances at you.

“you look beautiful” she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“stop” you laughed.

“no really” she shook her head, swallowing deeply “i mean it, you’re breath taking”

“well thank you, and thanks for agreeing to go out tonight. i’ll be honest…i’ve been thinking about you…like a lot”

“i’ve been thinking about you too” her demeanor started to shift “i really regretted just walking out that night. i was in my head and i just assumed that we’d be going our separate ways”

“i don’t blame you, i was too” you tired to offer consolation “i mean who would have assumed that we both went to the same school and just happened to vacation in the same place?”

she laughed at that, finally giving you a relaxed and genuine smile.

“a crazy coincidence…i’m really really happy you’re here, YN. this just doesn’t feel real”

“i glad i’m here too” you felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, no more wondering about who paige was or what she did. you knew now, she was here with you.

hours went by as you and paige reveled in conversation, spilling every detail, every story, every memory of your lives. it felt like this was meant to be, that the universe had purposely aligned yours and paige’s path. it felt so natural to talk to her. she was easy going and funny, she was an attentive listener and laughed at all your jokes. it was unbelievable that you found her again and you were more than grateful.

“would you-i don’t know, maybe this is too forward” paige began, gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips as you were finishing up your drinks “would you want to come back to my apartment?…i don’t want this night to end”

“i would love that” you blurted with urgency, butterflies forming in your stomach.

she nodded, not even bothering to respond. her hand came in contact with yours as she paid your tab and dragged you out of the bar.

cold air nipped at your bare skin as you walked with paige to her car. she politely opened the door for you, helping you in. the drive to her place wasn’t long at all, but you had noticed she was right, traffic was a bitch. but her music taste was impeccable and you had plenty to talk about so the drive didn’t feel excessive at all.

when you arrived at her apartment, she pulled out her keys to unlock the door, hinges creaking as she led you inside. it was a perfect little apartment from what you could see. it was warm and cozy, definitely well loved, and you thought it fit her perfectly. she turned on the lights and told you to take a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable.

paige sat next you, leaving a few inches between you two. the distance and the dimly lit room took you back to spring break. it felt like you never left.

“i like your place,” you commented “it suits yo-”

“can i kiss you?”

“what?”

“please” she closed the gap between you, scooting closer to you just like before “i don’t think i can sit here, replaying that night in my head over and over and not know what it feels like to have your lips on mine again”

you let out a breathe, not realizing you had been holding it in the first place. she looked desperate, leaning into you, hands making their way up to cradle your jaw. her fingers caressed the curve of your chin, fingers hooking underneath to pull you in. but she stopped, painfully waiting for your response.

“yes” you said “please, please kiss me already”

so she did, teeth clashing with yours in haste, pulling you into her without a second thought.

I know you want it, baby, you can have it

your discarded clothes made a messy trail down the hallway to paige’s bedroom. your shirt crumpled on the couch, belt slung over the stair railings, bra tossed onto the end of her bed. her clothes followed, making a pile on the floor. your hands were buried in her hair as she nibbled at your ear, then kissing down to your collarbone. the room was silent all except for your breathy moans and the disgustingly erotic, wet sounds from paige’s lips.

it was needy, it was passionate, and it was absolutely perfect. the way her body fit with yours like a puzzle, it was written in the stars.

Oh, I've never done it, let's make it cinematic

Like that one sex scene that's in Mulholland Drive

it could’ve been a scene from a movie. something you’d watch as teenage girl, when you’re at a slumber party with your friends and someone snuck in an R rated movie. and you’d all watch it, gasping and giggling when the actors would start to take of their clothes. you would stare at the screen while everyone was pretending to gag and freaking out, shutting it off before it got too intense, but all you could think about what how beautiful it was. that those two people loved each other so much that it was like fireworks going off, every touch and every word muttered served as a declaration of love.

that’s what it was like with paige. it was like that movie had come to life. everything about it was like something from a fantasy.

the satin sheets bunched around paige’s hips as she worshipped you. the gentle whimpering in your ear as she rutted into you. your not so gentle moans as you came undone around her fingers. how the room was hot and humid from your pure passion.

all of it was pure magnificence.

I wanna know, baby, what is it like?

I know you want it, baby, you can have it

you awoke the next morning, sunshine filtering in through smoggy clouds. paige began to stir next to you, arms finding their way from under the blanket to the bareness of your torso where she traced meaningless shapes into your skin.

“good morning” she muttered into the pillow, still fighting off sleep.

“morning” you beamed, watching her eyes flutter open “how’d you sleep?”

“better than i ever have”

you yawned with a lopsided grin, soaking in her elegance as she sat up to stretch. the world might as well have just stopped from the way she looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered.

“hey paige?”

“hm?”

Oh, I've never done it,

“please don’t let me go this time”

naked in Manhattan

“i won’t” she replied “never again”

#wcbb #wcbb x reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #foreingersgod #chappell roan

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