#not letting it get to me >:) i should get pizza on the way home hrmm
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scrumptiouskoalahottub · 3 days ago
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☁️Stag Do | George Clarke
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[ George is on his stag do with the boys, you're at home as your hen do isn't until next week, as the night goes on the alcohol hits George and he starts to miss you, wishing you were with him; one comment from his friend results in him leaving early to come home to you]
It's around 7pm and you're on the sofa watching your favourite film once again, cuddled up with a hot water bottle and snacks when you receive a text from George.
Geo🩵: "miss you x"
You let out a small smile as you read his text message, no matter where he is, who he's with or what he's doing, you always know there's a thought of you lingering in his mind.
You: "miss you too cutie, having fun x?" You reply
Geo🩵: "yeah but it'd be better if you were here x"
You: "you'll be home soon, enjoy your night, you've got me for the rest of your life remember x"
Geo🩵: "I'm the luckiest guy alive x" he replies
You heart react his message, leaving him to enjoy his night. Flicking through Netflix as you await his return home. As the night progresses George can't help but think about you, feeling a tinge of sadness wash over him as there's nobody in the world he'd rather be with than you right now. He nurses his pint as he stares into space, zoning out sounding out the noise from the bar. Chris notices his absence to the group and decides to say something "hey mate you okay?" He says looking at George with furrowed brows "yeah mate, just missing y/n you know? She just completes everything" he says with a small smile on his face, Chris laughs "mate this is your last night of freedom, focus on something else" he says, George's face scrunches in disbelief of Chris' words. "Why would I want to focus on something else? You're all talking to girls and I'm sat here missing MY girl because you lot wanted to fetch me to a stupid bar in London, I'm off home" he scoffs necking his drink and grabbing his jacket.
"Are you serious? We're all out here for you, leave her at home for a change it won't hurt" Chris retorts, George clocks the comment "it might not hurt her, but it's hurting me, SHE has persisted I stay out and enjoy my night, it's ME that wants to go and see her, I'd rather spend my days at home with her than snake my way around girls in sweaty London bar, talk to me when you're sober" George hisses and with that he leaves, calling an Uber to your flat.
You head to the kitchen to make yourself a hot chocolate before ending your film, the clock strikes 9pm and you feel your eyes getting a little tired. You stir your cup when you hear the front door creak open, it's George. You peek round the corner confused hot chocolate in clutch "George?" You call out, his face appears around the corner "hey baby, got one of those for me?" He says with a smile on his face shuffling over. You set your cup down on the counter and look at him confused "why are you home so early?" You say as he snakes his arms around your waist. "I missed you too much" he says planting a kiss onto your lips with a sweet smile attatched "but it's your night you should be-" he cuts you off "enjoying myself? Yeah, I did and now I'm coming home to enjoy myself with you, cuddled in bed with a film on, I don't need the nightlife anymore y/n, you're my nightlife" he says to you looking at you with doe eyes, smitten for you.
You let out a smile as you hand him your hot chocolate you'd just made "here have this, I'll make another are you hungry?" You ask him shuffling over to the kitchen counter "I could eat" he says walking over to the sofa "it's a good job I've just ordered pizza then isn't it" you say chuckling to yourself as you boil the kettle, admiring George as he picks out a film to watch. You couldn't help but feel a sense of safety develop inside of you, a feeling you've never felt in a relationship before; the way George prioritises you in every aspect, his kindness and caring manner towards you.
"I can't wait to marry you" you say sitting down next to him as you rest your head on his shoulder. "I can't wait either" he says kissing the side of your head.
-
🫶🏻
@arthurhillmastermind
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ariestrxsh · 19 days ago
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🍕 content warning: smut, oral (m! & f!receiving), praise, edging, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, small age gap (both characters are adults), pizzaboy!chris, servicesub!chris, dom!reader, low-key the reader exchanges money for sex
🍕 summary: your delivery boy, chris, is used to getting away with everything due to his dashing good looks, but it does him no good when he tries to resist your magnetic charm. when he arrives with your meat lovers earlier than expected, you're hungry for more than just the pizza.
(if it's cheesy, it's because i wanted it to be. 🧀 may this fic make you cum whilst you laugh at my stupid wordplay.)
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pizza guy
It was a cool, late-autumn evening, the wind rustling through the falling dead leaves and the temperature slowly dropping with every day that winter neared. You were at home, lounging in a silk pajama set on your couch, curled up with a book and a glass of wine while you were waiting for the pizza you'd ordered to arrive.
Suddenly, a knock at the door broke your attention away from the page and brought you back to the present moment. You glanced over at the clock. Surely, that couldn't have been the pizza. You weren't expecting it for another half-hour.
You pulled open the door to reveal a cute blue-eyed brunette in his work uniform who greeted you with a sweet smile. He was a few inches taller than you but looked to be a few years younger than you, and he had this innocent demeanor about him that immediately sparked your interest.
You wet your lips as your gaze scanned the delivery boy's features. You were drawn to his captivating eyes, his pink cheeks, and his pouty lips. "Hello, ma'am. I have your meat lovers pizza with extra Italian sausage," he said, double-checking the box he held in his hands.
"You're gonna hate me. I left my wallet upstairs," you stuck your bottom lip out at him in a little frown. "Oh, that's fine, ma'am. I can wait here," he kindly responded, the corners of his mouth turning up again. "Aren't you gonna get cold out here?" You asked, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'll be alright," he shrugged, his eyes dancing over your attractive features.
"I can't make you wait out in this weather, sweet boy. Why don't you come inside?" You replied in a nurturing tone as you crossed your arms, pushing up your breasts and revealing your hardening nipples that were straining against the soft fabric of your silk button-down.
"I don't think I should," he softly answered even though he was contemplating it, his eyes drawn towards your chest. "I'm not even standing out there, and I'm freezing. What if you catch a cold because of me? I couldn't live with myself," you said in an endearing voice as you ran your fingertips along your arm, trying to warm up.
He knew it was against store policy to enter a customer's home, but he figured he could bend the rules just this once. After all, the only thing providing his hands warmth was the pizza box he was holding, and the tip of his nose was growing red from the biting chill. He nibbled on his lip and nodded, accepting your generous offer and hesitantly stepping into your home.
"Make yourself comfortable," you told him, letting him in. You turned around to retrieve your wallet from upstairs, and Chris' stare migrated to the way your ass jiggled in your silk bottoms as you hurried up the steps. He couldn't help himself. You were just so hot. He glanced at the fancy bottle of red wine you had sitting on your coffee table along with the romance novel that laid beside it.
He wondered what a gorgeous woman like you was doing on a Saturday night, drinking alone and reading a book about love instead of making it.
You trotted back down the steps with your wallet in hand, sights fixed on the boy standing in your cozy living room who immediately noticed you'd undone the top two buttons of your shirt while you were upstairs. He knew exactly what you were doing, but he couldn't entertain it. It was a weekend, and he knew there would be plenty of pizzas to deliver and a lot of money to make.
"What's your name, baby?" You wondered as you reached into your wallet to count your bills. "Chris," he replied, loving the pet names you called him. "Alright, Chris. How much do I owe you, sweetie?" You asked, peering into his gorgeous blue eyes. "Um, $19.69," he blushed, clearing his throat and looking down at the price on your receipt he had pinned between his thumb and the box.
You smirked at him, pulling two $20 bills out of your wallet. "Here's for being so patient with me," you leaned in and whispered into his ear as you hooked two of your fingers into Chris' front pocket and slowly slid the cash in. While your were leaned in so closely, you could feel the heat radiating from his body and you picked up on the scent of pepperoni and hint of weed that lingered on his clothing.
"Thank you, ma'am. That's so generous. I don't know if I can accept that much," he replied, feeling all the blood rush to the tip of his cock as you flirted with the idea of breaking the touch barrier but not doing so just yet. "Sure, you can. You deserve it." You took the pizza box from him and placed it gently on your coffee table.
"You should stay a little longer. I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate, and you can warm up a little before you have to go back out into the cold," you offered, licking your lips while you examined his softening expression. "I should really get back to the shop," Chris said, breaking eye contact and trying to exercise self-control.
"Oh, come on. Stay for one cup of hot cocoa, sweet boy. You can just tell your boss you had trouble finding my house. Do you like it made with milk or water?" You asked, not giving him another chance to decline your proposition.
His gaze flickered back up at yours. He had your money. He could have easily excused himself and gone back to work, but he was secretly hoping for an excuse to stall and spend a little more time with you.
"Milk," he softly responded, completely in a trance with your caring nature. "You want whipped cream on top, baby? And marshmallows?" You cooed. "Yes, ma'am. Both please," he nodded, accepting your kind gesture. "Have a seat, Chris. Have a piece of pizza," you motioned towards the couch as you stepped into the kitchen to warm up some milk.
"How long have you been a delivery boy?" You asked, lighting the front left burner of your stove. "About a year," Chris replied, plopping down onto the sofa and reaching into the box to grab a slice. "Yeah? You make good money?" You inquired, fillling up a pot with milk. "Yeah, about $150 a night," he told you with his mouth full of pizza.
"Wow. That's a lot of money for this area. It must be because you're so timely and polite. And so handsome," you casually added, peeking up at him. He blushed and gave you a shy smile. "Oh, I don't know about that," he humbly replied. "Sure you are. You're cute, and you know it, too," you smirked at him. He took another big bite of pizza.
"So, do you always come quick?" You asked him. "Excuse me?" he politely answered you, nearly choking on his food and raising his eyebrows, unsure if he heard the question correctly. "I mean, when you're delivering pizza. Do you always arrive so quickly? I wasn't expecting you for another thirty minutes," you said, your eyes shifting between the boy on your couch and the clock on the wall. "I drive fast," he smiled.
"You really care about pleasing the customer, don't you?" You insinuated, bringing over the cup of hot chocolate. Your fingertips gently grazed his as you passed him the warm, ceramic mug. "Yes ma'am. I do. I live for it," he said in a submissive tone, glancing up at you.
"You ever get pulled over because you were driving too fast?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow at him and taking a seat on the couch beside him. "A handful of times, but it's always by the same officer in the same area I drive through. She always gives me shit, runs my license, registration, and insurance, and the whole bit, but she always lets me off with a warning," Chris replied before taking a sip of his hot chocolate.
"Mmmm, this is good," Chris said, licking the whipped topping off his lip. "Oh, baby. You missed a spot," you chuckled, moving a bit closer and gently running the pad of your thumb against the smudge and cleaning it off his upper lip while you stared deep into his eyes. You slowly licked the sugary cream from your thumb and grinned at him. He secretly liked the way you babied him and how in touch you were with your maternal instincts.
He took a few more sips of his chocolatey drink, savoring the warmth and sweetness it provided. "How much longer is your shift?" You wondered, studying his jawline and his full lips. "I close tonight, so at least another six hours," he gave a disappointed half-smile. "Awh. I can't believe they're making you work late on a Saturday night," you gave him a little frown. "It's alright. It's good money," he replied, drinking more of his hot cocoa.
"You know, I really appreciate the tip, the slice of pizza, and the hot chocolate, but I really should get going," Chris replied, setting the nearly empty mug on the coffee table. "Oh, sweet boy. Look at your pants. They're a mess," you chuckled, brushing crumbs off of his lap and gently grazing his cock that twitched in response to your light touch.
"Ma'am, you're making this very hard for me right now," Chris said in a serious tone, grabbing your wrist and looking into your eyes. "What am I making hard for you, baby?" You cooed. "I know what you're doing," Chris looked at you with his submissive eyes.
"Then why don't you let me keep doing it? I'll take good care of you, darling," you placed a hand on his cheek, cradling his face and searching for the answers in his expression to get him to stay. "It wouldn't be right.." he started to say, but his voice trailed off and he loosened his grip on your wrist as you leaned in, closing the distance between his lips and yours. You pulled him into a trance with your deep, passionate kiss, swirling your tongue around in his mouth.
"Says who? Isn't the customer always right? Don't you wanna leave me satisfied, baby?" You asked him, nudging his chin up with your nose, exposing his throat, and planting a soft kiss on the side of his neck. Chris was such a sucker for neck kisses and pleasing the customer. He couldn't stop you now. He wanted you too badly and so desperately craved to satisfy you.
"What would I even say?" Chris wondered out loud, racking his brain for an excuse to get out of the rest of his shift but getting distracted by your luscious lips. "I'm sure you'll think of something," you mumbled, pressing your tongue against a sensitive spot on his neck and giving him another passionate kiss.
"I can't think about anything except how amazing your mouth feels," Chris whimpered, giving into the sensation. "Give me your cellphone," you said, pulling away and holding out your hand. "What for?" He asked you, hesitantly reaching into his pocket and placing it in your palm. You handed Chris back his phone after dialing the number to his work and tapping the speaker button.
"Just tell your boss you got a flat tire or something, and that you can't come back to work for the rest of the night. I'll make it worth your while," you seductively suggested, whispering as you gently nibbled on his ear. He let out a soft moan as your teeth grazed his earlobe. "Hey, Chris. What's up? You've been gone a while. You find the delivery address?" A man answered the phone, recognizing Chris' caller ID.
"I got kind of lost on the way there, but I eventually found it. Um, I actually called because someone slashed my tires when I stopped to take a leak. Could you put a manager on so I can explain the situation?" He asked, trying to keep his composure as your lips traveled back to his neck, sinking your teeth into his sensitive flesh. He bit down on his lip to suppress another moan.
"Of course. Give me a sec. I'm gonna put you on hold," the guy on the other end of the line replied. You grabbed the hem of Chris' work shirt, pulling it up and off over his head, disheveling his hair while you did so. "I can't believe you have me doing this right now," he whispered as you fell to your knees in front of him. You smirked up at him, your hands reaching for his belt.
"What are you doing?" He whispered, looking down at his lap wide-eyed, the sound of the metal clanking against itself as you unbuckled it. "You just get so many nice tips, I thought maybe you could spare one," you chuckled. "While I'm on the phone with my boss?" He peered down at you in disbelief. "Let's see how well you can hold it together," you smirked.
"Oh my god. I don't usually mix business and pleasure in this manner, ma'am," he innocently whispered as you reached into his underwear. "You can save the I don't usually do this talk for someone else, because guess what? You're already doing it," you giggled. He sharply inhaled as you pulled out his half-erect cock.
"Wow, it's so big, and it's not even all the way hard yet," you gasped, taking it into your hand and slowly beginning to stroke his shaft.
It was long and veiny, and the head was pink, smooth, and already beginning to swell with arousal. He was so flattered by the way you lovingly looked at it, gently petting it and causing more blood to flow to it. He peered down at you with hungry eyes and a lustful expression.
"Chris? Someone slashed your tires?" A woman spoke into the phone as you slowly licked from the base of his length, stopping right where the heads meets his staff. Chris' jaw dropped and his breath hitched in his throat as he watched the way you teased him. His cock, that had now grown to its full size, twitched at the sensation of your heavenly tongue, and a bit of pre-cum gushed from his slit.
"Chris?" The woman said again, sounding agitated. "Yes ma'am," Chris said in a strangled voice as you began spiraling slow licks around the tip, cleaning up the clear fluid. "Chris, are you stoned right now? You know, we've talked about this. If it were anyone else, I would've fired them on the spot after the first time. You're just such a hard worker and get such good reviews-" his boss started to scold him.
"No, no. Nothing like that, ma'am. I'm just shaken up. That's all," Chris cut her off, trying to keep his composure while he stared down at the way you flickered your tongue over his slit. Her tone immediately changed. "Awh, Chris. I'm so sorry I accused you of being high on the job. Do you need a ride home, sweetie?" She tenderly asked him.
"No, ma'am. I appreciate it. I already got one. I just wanted to call to let you know I can't get new tires until tomorrow, so I won't be able to finish my shift," Chris managed to get out before a small sigh escaped his lips and his head fell back as you worked your magical tongue on him. "Of course. Let me know if you need anything, Chris," his manager relayed in a tone you swore was almost seductive. "Anything at all," she emphasized, the desperation in her voice coming through.
He was so mesmerized by the way you sheathed his marble-smooth, pink head between your soft lips that he nearly forgot he was on the phone. "Chris?" His manager broke him out of his trance. "Yes. Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that," Chris responded, staring down and nodding at you as you started to move your lips down his length, taking more of him into your mouth, massaging the backside of his dick with your tongue.
"Good night, Chris. Do whatever you need to do to relax," she said, definitely picturing him masturbating. "Good night, ma'am," Chris replied before concluding the call just in time for a guttural moan to pass through his lips and fill the room. You paused for a moment, taking Chris' dick out of your mouth with a faint pop, creating a wonderful suction for his nerve endings.
"Are you fucking her?" You narrowed your eyes at him and gave him a smirk. "My boss?" He asked with a surprised inflection, raising his eyebrows. You nodded at him. "No, ma'am. I swear I'm not," he quickly shook his head. "Well, she wants you to," you smiled. "Anything at all," you mockingly exaggerated her desperation. "I know. She's so obvious about it," Chris smirked down at you as you made his cock disappear behind your lips again.
He could finally enjoy the way you gently suckled on it, rolling your tongue around on his tip, and he didn't have to hold back his delighted noises anymore. Whimpers escaped his lips, one cascading after the other, filling the room with the sweet sound of his pleasure. He started to comb through your hair with his fingers as he sank further into the couch and further into his desire to fill your mouth with his seed.
"You work so hard, always taking care of everyone, but at the end of the day, who takes good care of you, hmm?" You cooed, stroking his length. He moaned loudly at your words. "Good boy. Enjoy it. You deserve it," you whispered before teasing the head with your tongue again.
"Ma'am, I don't know how much more I can take," he looked down at you lustfully, studying how you encircled the head with your licks. His dick involuntarily jerked again, a reflex to the way you intuitively knew what he liked. "I know you can take it, and you're going to," you whispered seductively. "Yes, ma'am," he whimpered as you took more of him into your mouth, sliding your lips all the way down until his tip hit the back of throat.
You loved how respectful he was even when he was on the brink of orgasm.
He clawed at the seat cushion underneath him, a desperate attempt to keep himself from finishing too soon. He thoughtfully watched your every move, thoroughly enjoying every subtlety of your technique that was becoming sloppier and messier. "Please, I need to cum," he whined, furrowing his brow, wetting his lips, and looking down at you with carnal desire in his eyes.
But you couldn't give into him just yet. You wanted to hear the desperation seeping into his tone of voice and see the neediness carved into his expression before you even thought about letting him finish.
"You don't understand how bad I need it," his luscious voice poured into the room. You carried on, ignoring his pleas to cum and fervently bobbing your head up and down on his cock some more. His moans became more strained as you continued to make him hold out, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes.
"Look at me, baby," you ordered him before you resumed manipulating all his tender nerve-endings. He loved the way you bossed him around, obediently following your directions. He did as he was told, peering back down at you and your tongue that was dancing around his tip, relentlessly teasing him.
"Please, ma'am. I've been such a good boy," he urgently begged, becoming teary-eyed. That's it, you thought to yourself. That was the kind of desperation you'd been patiently waiting for. You nodded at him, giving him silently permission as a tear rolled down his cheek. He let out a few loud, guttural moans, his voice cracking and his breath getting caught in his throat again.
You felt his dick pulse between your lips while you hummed against it, pressing the flat part of your tongue against his tip and causing his sweet and salty substance to spray off into different streams into your mouth, intensifying his orgasm. A few more primal sounds poured from his lips while you drained his throbbing member of his tasty seed.
"Thank you, ma'am. Thank you," he graciously praised you as you collected every last bit onto your tongue before swallowing it, making sure not to waste a single drop. He stared down at you breathlessly with his bedroom eyes, his flushed cheeks, and his slightly parted lips, his heart beating out of his chest.
"You're so good with your mouth, ma'am. How can I ever repay you?" Chris wondered, wiping away his tears of satisfaction and slipping his cock back into his pants. "Not necessary. It was my pleasure," you whispered, winking at him. "Ma'am. I insist. Please let me show you how good I can make you feel," he said in a soft, subservient voice, giving you puppy dog eyes.
You nibbled on your lip as you stood up in front of Chris. You reached down and picked up your glass of wine, taking a long sip before you started to unbutton your silk shirt. He watched as you slowly opened your blouse, exposing your breasts to him as you peered into his blue eyes.
"You'd do that for me, sweet boy?" You cooed, brushing your thumb against his cheek while you tilted your head down at him and held eye-contact. "I'd do anything to please you," he whispered, tipping his chin up at you. "Be a good boy and get on your knees for me," you said in a soft and sweet but domineering manner. He nodded before he dropped to his knees in front of you.
He curled his fingers into your waistband and slowly stripped your bottoms off of you. You stepped out of them, one leg at a time, Chris' eyes fixed on the treasure between your thighs. Chris bent your knee and slung your leg over his shoulder, so you could rest your foot on the edge of the couch while he nestled into your warmth. His tongue gently flickered over your clit, sending a lovely sensation through you.
Despite having just finished, the act of eating your pussy had him all worked up and needy again, his hand slithering below his waist as it found its way into his the waistband of his boxers. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and started pumping back and forth. He clamped his lips down on your sensitive bud, moaning against it.
"Good boy," you whimpered, running your digits through his hair and brushing it out of his pretty face. He was so gentle and tender, taking his time with his licks, but they were perfectly sensual and effective nonetheless. You gasped as he suckled on your most delicate nerve-endings, and the sound of him hungrily lapping up your wetness filled the room.
You let go, allowing yourself to be swept up in the delightful feeling his tongue brought you as it expertly prodded around your glistening folds. "That's it, baby. You're doing such a good job," you commended him. You smiled down at him, whimpering and licking your lips.
"Ma'am, you taste so sweet," Chris softly replied right before taking his hand out of his pants and placing his middle finger at your entrance. "I'm gonna make you feel so good," he smirked up at you, sinking his digit into your hole.
He noted how tight you felt wrapped around just one finger. He couldn't keep himself from fantasizing about how your pussy would feel encasing his cock.
He went back to delicately licking your clit while he worked his curled finger into your heat, pulling it almost all the way out and pushing it back in again. You loved the way it felt, but it left your core aching for more.
"Chris.. I need something else from you, sweetie," you responded, looking down lovingly at the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What do you need from me?" He sweetly asked, resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh and peering up at you, eager to serve you in any way he could.
You loved his subordinate nature, his obedient tone, and his enthusiasm about doing anything for you that you wanted him to. "Let me ride you, sweet boy," you requested, playing with his hair. "Oh, yes, ma'am. I thought you'd never ask," he softly whined, hypnotizing you with his desperate eyes.
You unhooked your leg from the boy's shoulder, and when he stood up, you placed your pointer finger on his chest and lightly pushed him back. He bent to your will, allowing your gentle shove to subdue him onto your sofa. He sunk into the furniture and pulled his dick out of his waistband once more, presenting it to you in all its glory. It was still incredibly hard.
You straddled him, sticking your breasts in his face, and he eagerly took one of your nipples into his mouth. You grabbed onto his cock, holding it in place, so you could lower yourself onto it. You gasped as you enveloped the tip, and you let out a delighted sigh as you sat all the way down on it. Chris moaned against your breast, relishing in the sensation of having your heat wrapped around him.
He placed his hands on your waist so he could feel every intricacy in the way you rolled your hips forward, grinding on him as you rode him. You slid up and down on his rod with ease, becoming increasingly wet. "You're so big," you complimented him, feeling the way his dimensions filled you snugly, and he blushed at your praise.
You reached between your legs and started drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves while you maintained your stamina. "Ma'am, this is the best tip I've ever received," Chris whimpered, breathlessly. "I'd have to say the same," you smirked down at him. A few subtle whimpers escaped the boy's lips as you sped up your pace.
Chris' eyes started to roll back, but you gently tugged onto his ear, and whispered, "Look at me while you cum, sweet boy." He weakly nodded at you, his expression drenched in sheer lust and his facial features making it apparent to you how good you were making him feel.
"I'm so lucky I got you as my pizza delivery boy," you moaned, looking into his eyes. "Respectfully, ma'am, I think I'm the lucky one," he whimpered, furrowing his brow and digging into your sides with his fingertips.
"You've been such a good boy. Why don't you cum for me, sweetie?" You cooed, recognizing how close he was and how badly he needed this. "Inside?" He politely clarified. "Yes, Chris. Fill me up," you responded, nodding at him. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, letting all his muscles relax as his orgasm washed over him like a rising tide.
His climax ebbed and flowed through him. His cock twitched inside of you, pumping you full of his seed until it started leaking down his length and making a mess on his jeans. He was incredibly sensitive, but he waited patiently until your orgasm followed shortly after.
"Oh, Chris," you called out in a sultry moan as you clenched around him, finishing onto his rod and adding to the mess of fluids that were leaking onto his lap. The pace of your fingers on your clit slowed down as well as the movement of your hips until you finally came to a halt. You smiled down at Chris, pulling him into one more intense kiss and overwhelming his tastebuds with notes of red wine.
You climbed off of him, and started to slip back into your clothes. He admired your body one last time as you covered back up, taking a few moments to recover from the powerful sensation. His chest rose and fell as his breathing began to regulate itself, and he tucked himself back into his jeans, pulling his zipper closed, buttoning them back up, and buckling his belt.
You reached into your wallet again, pulling out $150, the amount Chris told you he would've made had he worked the rest of his shift, and you tucked it into his pocket. "Ma'am. Do you think I'm some kind of hooker or something? I can't accept money for sex," he smiled at you, pulling his work shirt back on over his head.
"You were on the job. I'm only paying you for your valuable time. We just so happened to have sex," you shrugged, winking at him while you did up the buttons on your silky pajama top. He shook his head, ready to decline your money offer.
"Come on, if you had trouble making rent this month because I got greedy and wouldn't let you leave, I'd feel just awful," you seductively said, tilting his chin up with your finger. "Even if you just spend it on weed," you winked at him. He chuckled and rolled his eyes in response.
"I can't wait to leave you a good review. Let everyone in town know how filling the Italian sausage is."
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago
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ugly guys
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, teammates au, driver!reader, doggy style, (non-con) filming/recording, jealousy, (semi)dark fic, mad!max, long fic,
a/n: happy, happy, happy birthday to yooooou!!
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max could usually keep his expressions to himself. he knew how to play a good poker face for the media, but when he saw your ugly boyfriend on the track, he could barely keep it to himself.
you were the first female formula one driver in decades and you picked the ugliest guy to date. not that max was the image of a greek god, but you could do better. it didn't help that when he went to shake max's hand, his palms were painfully sweaty and the guy looked like he was going to have a panic attack when he saw max.
"to each their own." max tried to say to himself. as if he hadn't been harbouring feelings for you for what felt like a lifetime.
so imagine max's complete shock when he found out this ugly guy fumbled you so badly that you ended up in max's hotel room the next night with tears in your eyes.
max handed you another tissue as he sat on the other end of the couch. he then rested against the arm of the couch and asked, "so what exactly happened? all i heard was that you two weren't together anymore and you didn't want to be alone."
you sniffed, "i didn't know who else to call. all my friends are back home or in monaco." you wiped your eyes, earlier you took all your make-up off by evidence of the wipes all over the bathroom counter.
max shrugged, "well, glad i could help." in all fairness, he was glad that your boyfriend (not ex-boyfriend) was out of the picture. hated the guy and not because he looked like the personification of a dumpster. he was getting in max's way.
you leaned against the couch and pouted at him, your arms crossed. you ordered pizza for the both of you, not caring about the diet you were both on. you wanted something greasy and filling and a salad wasn't going to cut that. you explained a little calmer, "he... he called me annoying, he said that when we talked i changed the subject too many times. he said the 'vibes' were off." you gave air quotations, "i tried to forgive him last month when my friend found him on tinder." you sighed, "but... i guess i wasn't good enough. feels like i'm never good enough."
max replied, "i think it's because you give these guys a false sense of confidence. you give these greasy losers an ego boost because they gets to be with you and they go off and think that they're all that. what did this guy do for a living anyway."
"he worked at the gift shop at the circuits of america..." you looked away.
he knew you refused to go on apps like raya, even if it would be easier for you. max thought you liked scrapping the bottom of the barrel and expecting gold.
he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you were flying out and fucking a guy who worked at a gift shop!" he sighed, "i know you want a real, nice guy. but, you're inflating their egos!"
you looked down, "he seemed nice at first."
max couldn't be mad at you. he really couldn't. it wasn't your fault. these guys always put on a show for you, and then when you got too close, the trap came down and you always limped back to max with tears in your eyes. he reached over and sighed as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, "you need standards."
you slumped your shoulders, "i have standards."
"what are they?"
you made a face, "nice. considerate."
"you know you can train a dog to be nice. it's not a very high bar. you are the third ranked driver in the world and all you want is nice. considerate." without thinking he added, "maybe i should date you and show you how to be properly treated."
you stilled for a moment, your eyes wide at max. you said, "don't say things you don't mean." from your expression he could tell you were getting heated in the face.
oh... oh.
he let go of you to move the pizza box out of the way, he was soon crowded in your space with your back against the arm of the couch. "does someone like me?" he watched you swallowed. you had been max's teammate for two years now, after perez retired.
"i never said that." you looked away, but max took you by the face to look at him. something in his blue eyes should've alarmed you, but instead you melted a little into his touch.
"you didn't need to say anything. i could see it in your face." he smiled, "did you date all those greasy-haired, directionless losers to make me jealous?" if he were a worse man, that would've been an ego boost.
"i did like them."
"but you liked me more."
there was a beat of silence between you two before you sighed. you admitted, "yes... i tried to date guys who weren't you, so i'd forget about my... feelings for you." you swallowed.
max found it endearing. if he had known sooner, he would've easily swept you off your feet and made sure no other man got in his way. so without much of a second thought, he kissed you. it was passionate and the result of over two years of wanting you. needing you. the kisses continued until the pizza was long forgotten and you were on max's hotel bed.
you bounced a little when he pushed you onto it. some of your belongings were in his room as you were going to stay the night. his hands under your shirt.
"i've thought about this often." he said, "i wonder if any of those guys ever made you feel good. or were you wishing it was me." he whispered in your ear, "did you think about me when they failed to make you cum?"
you swallowed, "the last guy..." you admitted, "his cock was really small and he didn't know where the clit was." and blushed more when max looked at you in shock.
he laughed, "and he's going on tinder and acting like a prick! cheating on you and calling you annoying! he broke things off with you and you were suffering with piss-poor sex. c'mon. you need standards." he pushed your shirt off of you, "you need me."
call max verstappen a possessive man. he'd chalk it up to his childhood and the constant feeling of inadequacy. being knocked around a few times in the head probably scarred him. but, he was happy that he could finally lay claim on you.
he got you undressed and did the same to himself. you both had seen each other naked a few times. it was the price of being in close proximity for most of the year. walking into driver's rooms without knocking, that time you asked him if this bra looked alright, the other time you had to hold his hand while he got that small tattoo on his hip (that not even the other drivers knew about). you two knew each other more intimately than most, if not everyone.
so it only made sense that max felt you up while you laid under him. with promises on his tongue as he kissed your collarbones, "i'm gonna make you feel good. i promise." he his cock was sticky and heavy. he needed you asap.
you got on your hands and knees with your hips arched to the perfect angle for him. in the bright lights of the bedroom, he could see your wetness cling to your pussy lips. this was what your ex-boyfriend left? this! max assumed the man needed his head checked, but now he was certain he needed to be locked up somewhere.
only an idiot would mess up their chances with you.
he rubbed his hard cock against your click cunt. he said, "might be a bit of a stretch. i'm guessing i'm about double the size of him."
"he was three inches." you replied, "i measured after he lied to me and said he was five." you felt embarrassed, "i can't believe i gave this guy a chance! more than one chance!"
max tried not to laugh, he didn't want you thinking he was insulting you. but max was close to seven inches, well beyond double what your ex-boyfriend was packing. and maybe it was rude of him to think so, but it made his confidence a little higher.
when he sank his cock into you, you buried your face into the pillows and arched your back. your nails dug into the fabric. the whole floor didn't need to know you two were fucking.
not that max cared, let them hear. let them know.
the idea only came to him when he started to thrust up against you. he watched your ass shake with every hard thrust of his hips. he soon had you bouncing on his length. his size buried in your just right, at least he knew where your clit was. and the thought of it against his tongue later left him more excited.
there was so much for him to try on you. missionary would be rarely on the table. max wanted to devour you like a fine meal. but you'd always get your fair share of orgasms. can't have his girl go without.
however the thought crossed his mind and as he thrusted into you. he grabbed his phone and started to record. he changed his pace a little, harder thrusts that were a little slower. really get his cock comfortable inside of you.
he pressed against areas that had you moaning louder. all picked up on the camera. he asked, "do you like that, baby? do you like how it all feels?"
you whimpered. you weren't aware he was filming, instead just doing dirty talk to make you pant and whine. you replied, "it feels good, max. ah!"
max smiled, as the camera caught the sight of his cock going in and out of you. his cock sticky with your wetness. even a ring of milky white around the base from how good he made you feel. he wanted to speak directly to your asshole of an ex-boyfriend. he wanted to know that he'd always be less than. less than max verstappen.
"better than with anyone else." he couldn't give away that he was filming you. even with the camera directed at your pussy taking all of him so nicely.
you nodded.
"use your words, i want to hear you." he said with a bit of cockiness in his tone, "i want to know how to make you feel." c'mon, tell your dickhead of an ex how good your own teammate made you feel. tell max everything.
"shit, max. please. no one has ever fucked me like this before." you held onto the pillow a little tighter. the rush was to your head, you couldn't believe it. it was even a little better than when you pleasured yourself.
"a girl like you deserves a good fuck. how big was he again?" now max was just taunting the man. maybe it was a step beyond, but the greasy-haired prick should've known better than to get in max's way.
"three."
"yeah, yeah. didn't know how to use it either. but that's alright, schat. i'll make sure to give you all the orgasms he failed to give you. right?"
you nodded, "right, max, right." you arched your back a little more. the pleasure was flooding your brain. almost overwhelming as he fucked you with such force that it moved the bed up against the wall. the expensive headboard knocked against the wall a little harder.
no more worrying about idiot men for you, not while max was still upright and breathing. you were his. even if max had to raise your standards himself in any capacity. he would make you see that the two of you were a better fit. and to not give these low-lifes any chances. you were above them.
far too beautiful, far too funny, far too charming. if they couldn't handle a woman who liked to ramble then they were weak. max had already been listening to your rambling and ranting for years. the only difference was now he could keep you quiet with about seven inches in your mouth.
"who's going to make you cum?"
"you are!" you said a little louder. your voice a little tighter.
"who?"
"you are!" you yelped as your back arched further and eventually you came around max's cock. the noises you made were angel choirs in max's perverted mind. there, that should get the message across to this other dickhead.
he ended the video and tossed the phone on the bed before he gripped you by the middle and pressed his chest against your back. he fucked you with a heavy pace. it made you see stars and feel the throb of need in your core.
already overstimulated, your body craved for more. now you certainty weren't going to find another man. with a few ore heavy thrusts, you came once more and almost punched the pillow from the intensity. it was soon followed by max who pushed himself all the way inside of you and finished.
"shit." he croaked.
you laid under him as he slowed to a stop and dropped your hips when he pulled out. you laid there, finding comfort in the pillow under your head as you felt on cloud nine.
while max would've loved to eat you out right after. he could tell that you had already had enough for tonight. he laid down next to you and you rolled to your side to face him. your expression was blissed out and sleepy.
so, like any good boyfriend. he held you. and soon you drifted off to sleep. the rush of chemicals to your brain made you sleepy. and soon you were curled up under the covers with max.
"good girl." he said softly as you laid on his chest in a post-orgasm bliss. it wasn't until you were fully asleep that max got to work.
as you laid asleep beside him, he had your phone in his hand. he knew your pass code because it was the same as his. his number (33) and your number. it was a cute thing you wanted to do as teammates. so it wasn't easy to send the video and photos of him fucking you to your ex-boyfriend.
you shifted a little in your sleep from the feeling of the bright light of a phone nearby. you made a noise and almost woke up.
"shh, shh." he said as he kissed the top of your head, "just checking emails, go back to sleep." he was quick to send the video from his phone to your phone then to your ex-boyfriend. you simply snuggled closer and relaxed more. unaware.
max attached a message to the video, the one of him completely taking your pussy, "thought you were dumb, now i think you're completely stupid. don't text or call this number. congratulations of fumbling someone way out of your league. but don't worry, she's better off with me now.- mv." then blocked the number before he put the phone down.
it was his loss honestly, not that max cared. the guy could live forever or die tomorrow. forever irrelevant because now max had you. and as you snuggled up closer to him, a sleepy smile across your face.
you could've gone through a hundred guys, but that didn't matter. because you'd always find your way back to max. <3
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
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Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!” 
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 
“How would it be your fault?” 
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 
You blink. “Me?” 
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 
“I might,” you say. 
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
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bangytell · 20 days ago
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close friends
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Summary: Your best friend and roomate who's been keen over you for a long time.
Genre: friends to lovers, smut, slight fluff, nsfw
Rated: +18, mature
Pairing: Jungkook x f! reader
Word Count: 3,015 k
Warnings: mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, oral sex (f! receveing), use of pet names, non idol! au, rough sex, creampie, cuddles.
a/n: Working on this for soo long, enjoy!!
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The rumbling noises from across the room had you becoming more and more annoyed by this agreement. Your roommate, being his horny self practically begging, to let him have sex in his dorm. 
“C’mon [name] promise i’ll put on music you won’t even notice.” he said with that stupidly beautiful bambi eyes and that dazzling smile that makes you weak on the knees, how to say no to that. 
You feel the regret soon enough, some girl was shouting, literally leaving her lungs on every shout, not even the music was loud enough. He wasn’t that good, was he? Of course you already knew the answer to that question… but kept your mind out of it.
The next morning, while you were making breakfast, the girl popped into your kitchen, pleading loudly for your roommate's company. She froze right on the spot when she saw you.
“Uhm… excuse me, who are you?” her tone was bitter with her high pitched voice as she held a look of disgust.
“Jungkook’s roommate.” you said, calmly stirring the pan with scrambled eggs.
“I’m making sure that changes.” you scoff as you see her turn around on her toes back to Jungkook.
Jungkook opened his door and made his way to the kitchen, greeting you and you rolled your eyes at him.
“I met your lovely and amazing guest.” your tone dripped with sarcasm and he sighs as he runs a hand through his locks.
“What did you say?” his voice is slightly exasperated and you scoff with your gaze down on the pan.
“Why, would you even- “ you stopped your words at his condescending look on you “yeah, fair play, but wasn’t me this time, i swear.” he sighs and heads straight into his room, you hear the whining all the way to the kitchen and scoff.
Once at your office the day goes by with ease, 5 minutes before your leave time, Jungkook sent you a text.
A bright smile lights your temple as your co-worker reaches your desk.
“What puts you in such a good mood?” he asks as you take your bag to leave.
“Oh nothing, I just remembered the hell waiting for me at home.” he chuckled with a slight roll of his eyes.
“Another of your roommate’s flings?” he asked with a sly grin as you both walked out of the office.
“He’s been talking ‘bout this girl for ages, he won’t shut up about her.” he chuckles again and you scoff
“You’re jealous.” you roll your eyes with a defiant look on him.
“Why should I be jealous, I have known him since I was 18.” your friend laughed once more while you both reached the parking lot.
“Maybe that’s why you’re so jealous, you’ve been dying to get under his sheets for God knows how long.” you look at him in despite.
“I'm under the impression you’re not that content at the moment.” you both chuckle as he waves goodbye and shouts. “See you tomorrow!!” He's always so energetic. 
Once at home, you change into your pjs as you hear the door open followed by some muffled voice sounds. 
You hear the way he laughs, and walk out to the living room as the image of him clinging to her makes your heart ache. 
“Hey doll” he greets me when he notices me.
“Oh hey Koo.” I sit on the couch as the girl looks at me with disgust.
“Why do you talk to her like that?” the girl spits out and I look over at her.
“Just a playful banter between each other.” Jungkook whispers and she scoffs.
“Don’t call her that” she commands and I look at him.
“I’m starving.” you take a pizza from the box and take a bite as Jungkook grabs the remote to put a movie.
"How was work today Koo?” you murmur at his way once you swallow the bite.
“The usual stuff prin-... [Name] you know how it gets. "you chuckled softly when you noticed his slipped words.
“You’re not asking me?” the girl chimes in with her high pitched whiny voice as the movie begins. 
“How was your day?” you asked, looking at her.
“It was a great day actually, until I got here thinking I would get to be with my boyfriend alone.” a low chuckle escaped your lips at her snarky comment.
“Sorry to crash your dream.” you turn to look over at Jungkook “But you know what…” you trailed off and stood to walk inside your room, you emerged with a pair black sweatpants and a black jacket “I’ll go drive a little.” you looked over at Jungkook. “Text me when I can come back.” 
“Are you sure [Name]?” you gaze at him and nod as you stand at the door frame.
“Yeah, I kinda need to hop on my bike.” You chuckled slightly and stepped outside as the light breeze hit your face, the bike roared to life between the traffic for an hour until your phone buzzed in the pocket of your sweatpants, the phone ringing, you steer the bike to a corner and take the phone to your ear.
“Hey Koo!” he chuckles softly his voice comes through the phone low and hoarse.
“Hey princess, my guest is gone now… I think we need to talk.” you sighed softly and nodded even though he couldn't see you and responded with an equally low voice.
“Yeah we need to talk, be there in five” you hanged up after your goodbyes and drove to the apartment, you parked the bike at the parking lot and opened the door to see him sitting at the couch.
“Koo.” He looks up at you with a soft smile, a few tears running through his cheeks, at the sight, you kneeled in front of him on the floor. “Hey… what’s wrong, love?” he sobs slightly as your cold hands cup his cheeks.
“We fought and she left… basically dumped me.” you let out a soft sigh and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Was it because of me?” your voice is a low whisper against his ear he sighs and shakes his head on your shoulder.
“No… well a little.” he murmurs with a hoarse voice. “That’s what I need to tell you.” he pulls back to lock gaze with you.
“You can tell me anything” your voice is a low murmur and caresses his face gently.
“She dumped me because…” he trails off, shutting his eyes closed to your gentle strokes. “I've known you almost my whole life, right?” he mutters with a strained voice.
“Basically yeah, what about that?” your voice is a low and intimate whisper.
“She thought that I might have feelings for you” you let out a slight chuckle. 
“That can’t be” I look into his eyes, his features turn serious as he looks at you. “It can’t be, right?” your voice is a low murmur and he nods slowly.
“I do have feelings for you…” he mutters and you feel your breath stuck in your throat.
“Y-... You what?” you mutter in a stutter. “Jungkook uhm… think this through” 
“I have, for the past half hour, she left the first ten minutes, okay?” you look up to his eyes. 
“Go to sleep Koo, i’m sure…”  he grabs your face to catch your attention, your heart pounding heavily on your chest as his doe eyes lock with yours. 
“I’m sure princess, I'm confident of what I just told you.” he murmurs softly and almost lovingly.
“Y-...You must be confused Koo.” you mutter in a stutter and he stands and guides you into his room, she shuts the door behind him and your eyes roam his room, neat and clean.You see a picture of his graduation from college with you in it.
“See that picture?” you simply nod, your mind filled with thoughts. “You gifted it to me, with something written on the back.” he murmurs as he holds the picture in his hands “I’ll be there to follow your dreams, even to just rest on your back, be sure to keep going.” you keep your gaze at him attentively as he recites the inscription by memory. 
“That was like 4 years ago, how can you remember?” you murmured softly.
“I read it when I feel down.” he murmurs and goes to one of his drawers to pull a night light “Remember this one? You gave it to me when we were little.” you nod and a small smile appears on your lips.
“Yeah, you were afraid of the dark so… I gifted it to you, you still keep it?” he nods and places it back on his drawers, he goes to another one and pulls an old pantie of yours, you blushed slightly as he showed them to you.
“Remember this one?” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. 
“Y-...Yeah, it was from our first night here… we got wasted.” you murmured with a deeper shade of red on your cheeks as he grins smugly. 
“We got intimate and I kept it, just as a reminder.” you let out a soft embarrassed chuckle.��
“That was two years ago Koo, and we talked about it.” you murmur softly and avoid his gaze, he walks closer to you leaving the panties on his bed. 
“You’re not getting my point here princess.” he holds your chin in between his fingers to tilt it up so you look up to him and pulls you closer by the waist with his free hand, you’re flushed as a tomato as his warm and taut body press flushed against yours.
“I clearly ain’t.” your voice is a low murmur, your breath almost brushing his face. 
“I kept all those things because I liked you.” you look into his doe eyes, searching for a hint of playfulness but find none, he holds you tightly and secure pressed against him “Like actually sounds a little, I’m in love with you.” you blinked in disbelief and your breath stuck on your throat.
“Y-...You’re i-...in love w-...with me?” you mutter in a stutter and he nods pressing your bodies closer.
“So much it pains me, and I'm sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” you blinked slowly as if that will help to settle the turmoil inside you, he takes a strand of your hair behind your ear with a gentle graze over your skin and you close your eyes to his touch. 
“You’re in love with me…” you repeat in a murmur to try and believe him “I have to go to bed.” you mutter and let go of his arms to lock myself in your room, he stands there with his heart in his hand as you shut the door behind you, he stays inside his own room as you lie down there looking at the ceiling.
Why didn’t you just tell him you liked him back? What are you…? your thoughts trail off as you listen to soft moans and whimpers in the house, You know those moans and whimpers, you stand from the bed and sneak outside to find Jungkook with the old panties against his own member masturbating himself, he looks at the door, as if he expected you come out, he grins when he looks at you, you should move away, walk back to your room but your feet fail you and you remain stiff on his slight open door.
“You’re just watching or want to help me?” he asks in a hoarse and husky voice, you chuckled nervously but decide to step in as he continues “Just watching then?” he murmurs hoarsely and strained as you sit at the edge of the bed, looking attentively to his actions, his throbbing cock dripping my underwear with pre cum as he moans softly. “I like to have you as a spectator.” his voice strained with desire.
“You’re such a tease.” he chuckles huskily and keeps his movements.
“You can always join me princess.” You slowly undress yourself and take the old panties to discharge them to the floor as your body straddles his, you feel his warm and throbbing cock slide in your folds as he introduces himself with ease, his hands gripping your hips tightly with a shaky sigh of comfort and satisfaction. “You feel so good doll” he murmurs looking up at you.
“Were you serious about being in love with me?” you asked in a strained murmur as you begin to grind on his body, his grip on you almost bruising. 
“Of course love, I’m so in love with you…” he murmurs and bites back a moan as you ride him. “You don’t have to say it back.” he murmurs, locking eyes with you. 
“I-...I’m in love with you too.” you mutter under your breath and he lets out a soft growl and pulls your body to a hug and you sigh at the feeling of his sweating and taut chest.
“I really am lovestruck.” he chuckles softly and rests himself on the bed again “I could stay like this all night with you…” he murmurs lovingly and moves his hips to meet your own movements and you moan softly.
“We can do it more than once…” you murmur hoarsely increasing the speed of the movements, a low growl escapes his mouth.
“Y-...You’re killing me princess.” he murmurs hoarsely and lustfully.
Your eyes roam at his tattoo filled arm, his disheveled state with a small smile, your voice is a low whisper.
“Koo…” your hands find their way to cup his face, your eyes full of affection. “Why did you wait so long?”
“I don’t know baby… I never thought you liked me back” he whispered softly with a strained tone.
‘Doesn’t matter now.” he nods at your murmured words and lifts you easily to turn you around, his member leaving the warmness of your folds as he pins your body in all fours against the mattress, your face tilts to the side so you’re able to breathe, his rough hands massaging your bottom, he growls at the sight and leans closer to you to press his chest and whisper softly against your skin, his mouth leaving soft and wet kisses along your spine.
“You’re still on the pill princess?” you can simply nod as a low moan escapes your lips from his hands all over your back, he lets out a soft hum and slowly introduces himself back, he thumps against you hard, loud moans escapes your mouth as his hand holds both your wrist to your back. “You like it like this princess?”.
You let out a soft “Yes” as he continues his movements, a low hum escaping his lips, his hands keeping your body pinned down to the bed. 
He exits from you and shifts his body to rest his back on the headboard as he guides you on top of his face. “Let me eat you out.” his voice is a command, you accommodate yourself in between his body, leaving your cunt on display for him, his hot breath fanning against it as he slowly tilts his head back to dart his tongue along your folds, a low moan escapes your mouth at the feeling, your hands grip his headboard as he skilfully nibs on your cunt.
You’re a breathless moaning mess as he holds you by the hips, he’s never done this to you, but you understand now why all the girls he brought over were shouting about, you feel your orgasm creep in your stomach, your legs quiver as he helps hold you in place, soon with loud moans you ride his face into an orgasm, he continues savoring you with a low growl and slowly helps you down from him, you’re disheveled and he grins smugly at the sight as he graze your cheek.
“I’m nowhere near done with you doll…” he whispers with a hoarse voice as he once again shifts you both to pin you down on the bed. 
You’re again in all fours as he rocks against your body, his warm and throbbing cock inside you, by this your moans are loud, he grabs your ass tightly against his palm, massaging the flesh with a gentle yet possessive touch, he seems unable to control himself any longer to the sound of your whines and moans as he thrust his cum into you with a guttural moan.
With care and slowly he pulls himself back from inside you, his cum dripping down from inside you until it reaches his bed and he chuckle hoarsely with a curse under his breath, he stands and pulls his underwear as he grabs a towel and helps cleaning you, you have your breathless face hidden in the bed as he helps you lie down in your back again.
“How about a shower, gorgeous.” he leans down to press a soft kiss on your temple with a small smile, you nod with a breathless chuckle.
“A needed shower.” you whisper as your eyes find him and you both burst into a hearty laughter. “That no condom thing was quite irresponsible, I don’t know where that girl’s been.”
He chuckles slightly and shifts his body to lie down beside you.
 “Only inside of me, doll.” he winks at you and you smack him playfully.
“Now I'm disgusted.” he laughs heartily and helps you up the bed to the shower, his hand around your waist as you both get to the bathroom.
As you both settle into the warm water he holds his small bunny smile as you leather your hair with shampoo.
“What’s with that smile of yours?” you ask in a soft voice and he chuckles.
“I’m just really happy.” His voice is soft and he keeps that smile you love, he gives you several small kisses along your face, his hand cupping your face.
“You still need to take me on a date.” he nods as he continues to smooch your face under the water, a soft happy giggle escaping your lips, this definitely was the happiest you’ve been.
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©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.
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violettaskies · 1 year ago
Text
Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
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-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 
No. 
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 
What a dream. 
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong. 
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 
You were about to become the death of him tonight. 
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 
“Y-yes, I would be.” 
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 
“More, please.” 
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong. 
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 
Fuck. 
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 
“Let's use a little, Steve.” 
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 
Just the tip — you said the words before. 
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 
“Feels nice.”  
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 
And he did. 
Good god, he did. 
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 
“Another day?” 
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 
-:-:-:-:-
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mapis-putellas · 2 months ago
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Bad day
Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader
Words: 1698
Warnings: Swearing, crying
Summary: You’ve had a bad day and go to Alexia for comfort. Based on this request- here
Notes: Do you guys have chapters that write really well? Like, I barely had to change anything in the proof read and I’m kinda proud of myself. Enjoy <3
[prompt list]
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Today hadn't been a very good day. In fact, it had been absolutely terrible.
Firstly, you'd slept through the alarm you'd sworn you'd set, unintentionally snapping at Alexia for not waking you when getting up herself. Then you'd dropped your coffee -your very hot coffee to be precise- simultaneously ruining your blouse, burning your skin and souring your mood further because you didn't have time to get another one or go back home to change.
So not only were you un-caffeinated and smelling of stale coffee for the entire day, the AC in your office had finally decided to call all it quits. You'd spent the whole day sweating, and if all that was bad enough, you didn't have time for a lunch break, meaning you'd gone the whole day without eating because of course you'd slept through breakfast too.
So yeah. Today had not been a very good day. Right now, at this specific moment, all you wanted was a shower and for Alexia to hold you. Maybe some pizza too. But mainly Alexia.
But apparently the universe was determined to make your day even shittier because when you got home, you see Alexia busy on her laptop on a Skype call to someone. Your mood dwindles further as you glare at the back of her unsuspecting head. Of course. Of course she was busy. Alexia was always busy.
You pause in the midst of angrily kicking off your shoes. No. It wasn't her fault. None of this was. You were just frustrated. And angry. And sweaty. And hangry. And apparently Alexia deprived too.
"Stupid alarm. Stupid coffee. Stupid AC. Stupid everything." You grumble to yourself as you make your way down the hall to the bathroom, hastily stripping off and stepping beneath the scolding hot water.
You stay in the shower for probably longer than you should have, only stepping out when your fingers are wrinkly and you start to feel faint. The shirt Alexia had worn to bed last night was still strewn across her side of the bed, and without hesitation, you find yourself slipping it on along with a pair of underwear.
Your bare feet pad across the wooden floor as you make your way back through to the kitchen. Even if Alexia wasn't done, you needed to eat. You were way past hangry and slipping dangerously into murderous, and that was not how you wanted to end your already shit day.
Surprisingly, Alexia wasn't on Skype anymore. But she still looks busy prompting you to keep quiet as to slip past her and over to the refrigerator. You were part way through pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when her voice fills the room.
"Mi amor, I did not hear you come home."
You can't help but startle at the sound, turning around with the cereal box clutched to your chest. "Uhh, yeah. Hi. I saw you were busy and didn't want to bother you."
Alexia raises an eyebrow as she pulls her headphones out of her ears, leaning back in her chair and running a hand through her hair. It was unfair how attractive she looked doing that.
"I am never to busy for you bebé. How was your day?" She asks genuinely.
You simply purse your lips, the cereal box becoming crushed against your chest.
Alexia frowns. "That bad?"
You nod tersely.
"You want to talk about it? I can listen." She offers, but you shake your head.
"If you don't let me eat right now, I'm gonna bite your head off." You admit seriously, and Alexia huffs a laugh of amusement as she nods her head.
"Dinner is in the oven, amor." Alexia gestures to the appliance just next to you. "I did not want it to go cold."
Your hands drop to your sides. “You made dinner?" You feel your eyes start to burn with the familiar sensation of tears.
"Sí. I had some free time," she looks up you, "amor, are you crying?"
"I can't help it," you choke out before letting out a sob, and Alexia's heart breaks as she stands up and makes her way over to you, cupping the back of your head and pulling you into her arms. You fall limp against her, arms looping around her waist and squeezing tight as you bury your face into her chest. "I-I had such...such a bad day, and you...m-made dinner."
"I did, baby," Alexia so very rarely uses English terms of endearment with you, only doing so when you were so upset she fears you wouldn't understand her Spanish. "You are shaking, love. What happened?"
"I had a bad..bad day." Alexia almost finds herself tearing up at just how dejected and sad you sound.
"You did?" She muses softly, the hand on the back of your head combing gently through your hair. You nod against her chest, breath stuttering as you try and get yourself together.
"It is okay, baby. You can cry." She assures, and you let out another choked sob she tightens her arms around you. After a while, without prompting, you start to speak.
"I slept..slept through my alarm. Then I...I spilled my coffee and didn't have t-time to change or get another one. Then the st-stupid AC broke, and I missed lunch. And...and..." you trail off into another sob as you clutch desperately to the sides of her shirt, and Alexia frowns as she bends and loops her arms beneath your behind, standing up straight with you in her arms before easing you down onto the counter.
She steps in between your parted legs, feeling the way they hook tightly around her waist as your crossed feet rest against her ass.  Your stomach and chest were flush against her own as she holds you, one arm across your back whilst her hand cups the back of your head, fingertips grazing lightly over your scalp.
Your arms were around her shoulders, hands clinging to the back of her shirt as you sob softly into her shoulder. Alexia simply stands there and holds you, knowing you often got overwhelmed when someone tried to talk and make sense of things when all you needed was a good cry.
Eventually, your sobs fade into sniffles, and Alexia holds you for just a few moments longer before tentatively easing your upper body away from her, hand's delicately cupping your cheeks.
"It's sounds like you did have a pretty bad day, mi amor." She murmurs, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.
You nod, sniffling softly as your eyes fill with a fresh set of tears.
"No no, do not cry, bebé," Alexia soothes, using her thumbs to wipe away your tears, "it is okay now. You are home, with me." She pulls you back to her chest, feeling the way her heart breaks when you cling to her desperately like you were scared she was going to push you away. "I will fix you a plate of food, yes? Would you like some juice too?"
You nod with a quiet sniffle, feeling Alexia's hands slide beneath your bare thighs before easily hoisting you off of the counter and carrying you over to the dining table. She lingers with you in her arms for a few moments longer before easing you down onto the chair next to hers, kissing your forehead before moving to prepare you some food, and you stare longingly at the back of her body as she flips between the refrigerator and oven getting everything she needed.
Soon, she was back, and you can't help but smile as she sets a plate of pasta down in front of you along with a fork and some some juice.
"Gracias." You whisper hoarsely, feeling Alexia hum as she kisses your again forehead again before retreating back to her own seat.
After not eating all day, it was safe to say you were famished and end up eating your meal in about ten minutes flat. As you set down your fork, you look cluelessly around the room not quiet knowing that to do with yourself. Quite frankly, all you wanted to do now was sleep, but you didn’t want to do that without Alexia and you suspected she had to finish whatever work she was doing before finally retiring to bed. But you didn’t want to just sit here by yourself either.
Alexia soon solves this for you, grabbing the seat of your chair and pulling you closer. You look up at her, head tilted to the side.
"Come here, you can sit on my lap until I am done working." She uses her feet to push her chair back slightly before invitingly pats her thighs, but you hesitate, your earlier worries returning about not wanting to disturb her.
"Come here, bebè. Let me hold you." She reaches to grab your hand and lightly tugs, your resolve immediately breaking. You stand up and allow her to coax you into her lap, one leg either side of her own with your ass planted firmly against her thighs. You melt against her almost immediately, cheek resting against her shoulder as one of your arms settles around her waist. The other stays flush against her chest, fingers hooking tightly to her shirt.
Alexia relaxes at the feeling of your weight on top of her, using the hand that wasn't controlling her laptop to graze gentle circles across the length of your back. She hooks her chin into your shoulder, turning her face slightly to the left so she could breath in your smell for a few moments before focusing back on her work. The sooner she was done, the sooner she could focus one hundred perfect of her attention on you. But for now, she figure this was a good compromise.
"I love you, ale." She hears you murmur as she feels your warm hand creep up her shirt to rest between the back the chair and her bare skin, tracing absently over her tattoos.
"Te amo, mi amor."
**
Tags:
@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @liloandstitchstan
538 notes · View notes
yooniivrse · 15 days ago
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uh oh, i'm falling in love | myg
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summary. the night that yoongi realises you might be a lot more than just a close friend to his heart.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, best friends to ??, one sided love? (up to reader's interpretation)
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none <333
notes: this was a request from my love, @perfectlyoongi-main. you can find the ask for this oneshot here. listening to labyrinth by taylor swift on repeat while writing this definitely made me feel very very single, but i loved writing this sm. as always, likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback is so so appreciated!! i hope you guys enjoy <333
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main masterlist
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You stop in front of the small, old-fashioned photo booth, hands on your hips as you look it over with mild scepticism.
It’s a flimsy structure tucked in a quiet corner of the mall, slightly worn down with chipped paint and a fading sign hanging above it. It’s the kind of booth that hasn’t been updated in years, where the pictures are low-quality and slightly off-colour, but you look at it with the excitement of someone who’s just discovered a hidden gem.
“I don’t think we’ll both fit inside,” you muse, tilting your head as if a different angle might magically increase its size.
Yoongi stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket, eyeing the booth with a barely hidden look of reluctance.
If he's being honest, he’d much rather be back home with you, watching movies in the comfort of his living room, eating pizza, and letting the night pass by as it usually does. It’s how he’s spent his birthdays for the past three years since meeting you, a quiet tradition he’d grown to look forward to. But this year, you’d insisted he get out of the house, brimming with excitement at the idea of taking him somewhere, refusing to tell him what you had planned.
And even though he could’ve turned you down, Yoongi knew he wouldn’t. Not with the way your face lit up when he agreed, that joyful glint in your eyes that made his heart beat just a little faster.
“Maybe we should just do this somewhere else,” he suggests, already eyeing the dim mall corridor as an escape route. “There’s no way we’re both fitting inside unless you sit on my lap or something.”
He means it as a joke, but the moment the words leave his mouth, he realises the weight they carry. His heart skips a beat as you turn to him with that playful smile he knows so well, eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and mischief.
“I don’t think—”
“Oh, come on! It’s your birthday,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And we’ve been best friends for long enough that it won’t be weird.”
Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to disappear before they can reach his lips. The suggestion should feel casual, even funny, but there’s a strange tension that settles in his chest, stopping him from brushing it off like he usually would. It’s the same tension that’s been creeping up more often these days, the one that leaves him feeling almost breathless whenever he’s around you.
“Unless,” you add with a sly smile, your expression feigning innocence, “you’d rather sit on my lap?”
He chuckles, the sound more nervous than he intended. “Fine. Whatever,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. But as he steps forward, he feels a strange warmth creeping into his cheeks, something uncomfortably close to anticipation.
You squeeze into the booth first, settling onto the small, tacky leather stool with a satisfied grin. You pat your lap playfully, but Yoongi only shakes his head, stepping into the cramped space behind you.
His heart thrums erratically as he settles onto the stool, his knees brushing against yours as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you both fit within the booth’s limited space. You lean back against him, so naturally that he wonders if you can feel the way his heart races at the contact.
“See?” you say, glancing back at him with a grin. “This isn’t so bad.”
The camera’s light starts blinking, giving a brief warning before the first picture snaps. You immediately turn to him, nudging his cheek to bring him closer, and in the tight space, it’s all he can do to keep his balance as he leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Smile!” you chirp just as the flash goes off.
The light catches him off guard, and he blinks, momentarily dazed by the brightness. He hears you laughing softly, your shoulders shaking against him, and he’s hit with a wave of warmth, one that spreads through him as he watches you, momentarily forgetting about the camera entirely.
With a slight grin, you shift in his lap, angling the two of you for another shot as the timer counts down again.
You’re so close he can feel the faint trace of your perfume, the warmth of your skin, the rhythm of your breathing as it syncs with his. And for some reason, the thought of being this close to you—closer than he ever thought he’d be—stirs something unexpected within him.
Another flash, capturing you mid-laugh, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing within him.
As the countdown begins again, you glance back, your gaze meeting his, and Yoongi feels himself freeze. There’s a hint of something in your eyes—an invitation, perhaps, or maybe a question—that makes his heart race all over again.
His eyes drift to your smile, the soft curve of your lips, the brightness of your gaze, and he can’t ignore the way his own heartbeat echoes in his ears, loud enough that he’s sure you can hear it too.
The timer clicks down to the next flash, and he forces a smile for the camera, though his mind is elsewhere entirely. He’s trying to make sense of the strange rush of feelings flooding through him, feelings that have been building up slowly, subtly, over time.
The booth is quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of machinery and your shared breaths. You tilt your head slightly, resting it against his shoulder, and his entire world narrows down to this single moment. Yoongi feels his arms tightening around you, an instinctual gesture that’s both protective and vulnerable.
The timer clicks down to one last shot. "Alright, funny face!" you call out, pulling an exaggerated grin, and he chuckles, trying to shake off the gravity of his own emotions as he mirrors your expression. The flash captures the both of you, frozen in a moment of joy.
As the final picture fades, you stay in his arms a beat longer than necessary, and the realisation hits him like a tidal wave, too strong to ignore. This isn’t just friendship, he thinks, feeling a pang of something so overwhelming that it borders on painful. Somewhere along the line, he’s fallen in love with you, and he doesn’t know if there’s a way back.
But you’re oblivious, still laughing as you climb off his lap, crouching down to grab the strip of photos as they print out. “Look at this!” you say, waving them in front of his face. “I'm definitely hanging these up on my fridge.”
He blinks, his gaze lingering on you as you sort through the photos, laughing at the silly faces, the close-ups of your laughter, and his slightly dazed expressions. You’re so focused on the photos that you don’t notice the way he’s looking at you now, eyes soft with something deeper, something he can no longer deny.
“See, I told you that it'd be fun.” You glance up, still beaming, and he forces himself to nod, plastering a smile over the vulnerability he feels beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, his voice almost lost in the small space. “I guess it was.”
But even as he smiles, the weight of his realisation settles heavily in his chest, pressing down on him with a strange mixture of longing and fear.
He wonders if he’ll ever find the courage to tell you, or if he’ll spend his days hiding this quiet, aching love, content to stay by your side as a friend, the way he’s always been.
You turn to him, still laughing over one of the photos. “Hey,” you say softly, a note of seriousness creeping into your voice. “Thanks for tonight. I know this isn’t your usual birthday thing, but… it means a lot.”
And for a brief moment, he thinks about telling you everything. He thinks about confessing, about admitting that the thought of spending his life without you, without these small moments of joy and laughter, terrifies him more than anything else. But the words catch in his throat, stuck beneath the weight of a love he’s too afraid to speak out loud.
“Anytime,” he finally says, his voice a whisper, barely audible above the hum of the booth.
You look at him for a moment longer, a soft smile playing on your lips before you hand him one of the strips of photos. As you walk out of the booth, he follows behind you, trying to ignore the ache in his chest, the quiet, unspoken confession that lingers in the space between you.
Maybe one day, he'll find the courage to tell you how he feels; maybe one day, he'll get to be more than just your friend.
But until then, his love will stay hidden in the attic of his thoughts, known only to him.
And for now, that's enough.
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dazeddo11 · 2 months ago
Text
WIP draft
Ellie calls you drunk to pick her up, months after she left you.
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Ellie stumbles out of the bar, looking around trying to remember how she walked there. Her eyes catch a bright red phone in a glass booth, your voice worming its way into her head. No I shouldn't... She thought, turning away from the phone. It's so late, she's not even up. What is she is? What if you do and she answers? She won't....she might. Ellie turned on her heels, she knows this is dumb. She would just walk home, but she needs you right now. She misses your face and how you used to laugh at her cheesy jokes, or when she taught you with her guitar.
She leans against the glass wall of the booth, her fingers shaking as she punches in your number. One ring....two... three...fo-
"Hello?" Your groggy voice was heard. Oh god, you actually answered. Ellie stood there for a few seconds, she didn't think this far. She struggles to find words, all of them caught in her throat. She wants to apologize, to tell you it was the worst mistake of her life and she can't sleep without you by her side anymore. Fuck she can't let you hang up, she can't wait too long, what if she says the wrong thing?
"M' sorry, just wanted to hear your voice..." Ellie slurred into the phone.
"Ellie? What time is it? Are you drunk?"
"It's...late, I only had a few drinks."
"God Ellie, where are you?"
"you don't have to come get me baby, im fine."
"No Ellie, you're drunk. Where are you?"
"J's the corner by Dave's Den."
"Stay there, don't move."
You sighed as you hung up, shuffling out of bed. You grab your keys and yawn, what a great way to wake up! You grab a bottle of water from the fridge before you leave, no way are you letting Ellie get sick in your car. You stopped by a local pizza place on the way, might as well since you're already out. You almost forgot how to get to that crummy old bar, that's where you and Ellie met. She had watched you dance all night, couldn't take her eyes off you. She was too nervous to buy you a drink or talk to you, but you spotted her watching you. You thought she was cute and you bought her a drink. You guys hooked up that night, and the rest was is history.
Ellie smiled as she saw your familiar car, stumbling over to wait at the curb. When you stop the car and get out to help her, she raises an arm. "I'm fine! I can do it." She smiled as she almost stumbled backwards. You rolled your eyes and walked over, gently grabbing her upper arm. You guided her to the side as you opened the door, helping her in. You close the door and get back on your side, tossing the water into her lap. She hums and looks up at you. Your face glowed with every lamppost, highlighting all the places she used to flutter kisses, and stroke lovingly. She misses you so so much.
Should I keep writing this or give up?
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avocado-writing · 2 months ago
Note
The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”
Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀
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Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.
You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 
At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 
You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 
“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 
Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 
He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 
“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 
“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”
Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.
“What? No. That’s crazy!”
You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 
He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 
“What’s up?” you ask. 
“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  
“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”
He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 
“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 
“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”
Phew. Got outta that one, then. 
He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 
“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”
Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 
“Abso-fuckin���-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
“How do you feel about roleplay?”
He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.
“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”
You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 
“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”
He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 
“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”
You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 
Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.
You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 
“WHAT THE FUCK—!”
Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 
“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”
You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 
“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”
You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”
Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 
“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”
“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 
“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”
“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 
He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 
“Oh my god…”
“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”
From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 
Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 
But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 
If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.
As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 
It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 
…right?
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taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear
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hhoneyhams · 4 months ago
Text
Full Count - Modern Laios/F!Reader
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Word Count: ~2.7k
Features: lots of inappropriate uses of company time (ahem), closet sex, destruction of store property, technical difficulties, and pizza 'n soda for morale! It also gets a little sappy at one point, yippee!
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!! ESRB RATED M FOR MATURE (Technically A/O but who uses that anymore?? )
Content Warning: Unprotected sex, public sex, and cream pies
The reader has female genitalia and is human. I tried to keep all other descriptions/pronouns to a minimum.
Author's Note: Shout out to @toxycodone for making the post that inspired this whole thing! Minimum wage worker Laios is a darling idea, but thinking about him working in a video game and collectible store just stole my HEART! I'd let him tell me all about his D&D campaign and his most recent Skyrim run any day 🖤
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“--have a good night!” you call out to a departing customer. As the door shuts behind them, you turn off the neon ‘open’ sign and begin your closing duties. 
Instead of wiping down the windows and letting the shutters down, you were handed pencils and two printed-off sheets of paper attached to clipboards.
“You and Laios go do the pre-owned and new console count, I’ll see what I can do about the internet before the night is over,” your boss sighs, pulling out their phone to make some calls. Your eyes meet Laios’ as he pauses what he is doing on the sales floor to make his way to the area behind the registers.
“The internet went down?”
“I think that storm knocked it out earlier…” you theorize, handing him the other pencil and clipboard. “We were having trouble over here with the POS and cards.”
“Oh, it's down-down then,” the blond confirms. You grab your second soda can of the night and your keys to the back room. He follows suit after he takes another piece of pizza, cold and tough from airing out on the counter. “That’s lame.” 
Taking care of a count by hand is nothing for you, but using your extra hours to redo a count isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night. The day of full-count inventory for your store was quickly looming, the internet going out another hurdle in the way of your freedom.
The two of you lock yourselves into the back. You open the side closet that holds both sets of consoles to count. The closet wasn’t cramped, but you were a bit cozy in there. Various gaming consoles lined the walls and were stacked along the floors.
You and Laios were rarely scheduled together, but you always enjoyed yourselves when you were. You met him at a staff meeting shortly after he started at the store. The whole night you had ended up talking about everything from dungeon-crawler games to Dungeons and Dragons, to even discussing the potential of getting some friends together to do a joint playthrough of one of his favorite games in the Monster Hunter series.
It isn’t a secret that you find him attractive. Your other co-workers poke fun at how you clam up around him. You’re just content with listening to him ramble, unlike some of the others. 
Usually, people don’t last at this job long enough for you to get attached, but you know you’d be a little sad to see him go. 
Your phone vibrates in your pocket with a text from your manager. Laios’ phone has been forgotten somewhere out front so he glances over your shoulder to read the text:
‘Going home. Finish the count and lock up when you’re done. Someone should be bringing us a router from another store tomorrow.’
Leave it to a manager to have you clean up their mess…
“Shit, why do we still have to do this then? I mean, if we’re just going to be back up and running tomorrow morning, why stay late and see if everything is there?” you vent to Laios, setting the clipboard down on the ground and flopping straight onto your ass. “They can’t even see if we’re actually doing this, so why not fudge these numbers and go home early…”
“Well, think of it this way,” he begins, sitting down beside you and settling his clipboard neatly in his lap. “They can’t see that we’re sitting down and taking care of it!” He begins to scan along the consoles sitting on the floor, marking off each console he finds by the serial number.
He was so content with the mundane that it hurt. He was a real ‘yes, ma’am’ ‘no, sir’ kind of worker, always coming to work with a smile on his face.
You felt like a bad influence every time you worked with him…
Your other coworker, Kabru, always makes it known just how much he wants to choke Laios during their shifts together. Something was very endearing to you about how dedicated he could be to a part-time position like this.
You joined him…and continued your work on the floor.
“--so our DM, right? This guy-”
“Our district manager or your dungeon master?”
“Oh, dungeon master, got mad at me for rolling SUPER high on a perception check and went after my sister’s character for it. So our next session is going to be us trying to get her back from a dragon. We’ve got to take some time off because we lost a couple of people but I’m ready to throw down next time!” he says, determination in his voice. You give him a smile in response, your mind pretty occupied by the task at hand. 
He continues to prattle on excitedly about some of the other escapades his party took place in as you counted the rest of everything that you could whilst sitting on the floor. You were always scared of whatever googly-eyed look you’d give him as you listened intently, so you would usually throw yourself into your work as he talked.
He was kind of like a big, hunky podcast or something…
“Alright, we’ve gotta get up now…” you huff, slowly getting up by grabbing onto one of the wire shelves for support. The hard linoleum floor was not doing you any favors in the comfort department and cut off the circulation to your legs.
You stumble forward and fall on top of Laios, jerking down the shelf you held onto for support, and flinging some of the handhelds onto the floor with you. His strong hands catch you around your middle so you don’t bang your heads against each other. 
A shot of heat rushes through you, embarrassment flushing your face and the telltale signs of butterflies blooming in your belly.
Were you really that touch-starved?
“There goes the Switches, 3 if you need to write it down,” he points out, not making any moves to let go of you as he does so. You settle down in his hands and look over your shoulder to see if he is actually right. 
You’ll have to test those to make sure they still work before you go home…
Laios continued to hold you, almost memorizing the way your body felt under his hands despite the space between the two of you that remained. 
Per your training modules, you knew that physical advances between coworkers were strictly prohibited on the store’s premises. This was clearly an accident, but if the prolonged touching between the two of you said anything, it's that it wasn’t exactly unwanted. 
Laios looks up to the ceiling, the light on the console room’s camera no longer pulsing red like it usually does.
“If the internet is out, the cameras are as well. You can’t get in trouble…”
Your eyes bore into his as you gaped in astonishment.
What is he implying…? 
There are a few beats of silence between the two of you before you close the gap, pressing a heated kiss to his lips and tangling your fingers into his soft shirt. He melted into the kiss, gripping your hips tightly to hold you against him. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like the pizza and soda from before.
“I’ve been wanting to shut you up all night,” you mumble, a smile stretching against your lips as you press more kisses against his.
“I thought you liked listening to me!” His tone is genuinely shocked as he says it, taking on a nervous edge like he has done something wrong. You hush him, rolling your eyes.
“I do, but holy shit, you’re so distracting!”
“You’re distracting too!” he fusses, pressing an accusatory finger to your nose playfully. “I’m always trying to get your attention and you never look at me!”
“I’m trying not to give you ‘fuck me’ eyes while you talk about Skyrim!” you confess, swatting his hand away. Telling him causes your cheeks to burn hotter than they have before. 
Suddenly, you feel something (or someone, rather) graze the underside of your rear. Laios’ cock strains against his pants as he looks away from you, his face turning a rather deep red to match the shirt he was wearing. He blushes all the way from the tips of his ears and down his neck.
“You…you want to fuck me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
It totally wasn’t. Laios didn’t think you liked him that much at all. He would see the way your eyes lit up at certain conversation topics and he did his best to keep your interest, but you always found something to distract yourself with. He’d even resorted to yelling across the store at you as you darted around to straighten up the shelves or stock. You didn’t tell him to shut up like Kabru or Toshiro, but you didn’t engage with him a ton.
He has caught your gaze on a couple of rare occasions, but you would quickly dart your eyes away when you found out that he had noticed. If you were worried about making him uncomfortable, he would have rather known that he wasn’t making you feel that way.
He wanted to make it all up to you. You now know so much about him, but he wanted to take the time to get to know everything about you. He’s heard you talk about your favorite game once or twice, but he wants to know exactly when you played it and why it is your favorite. He wants to know silly stuff, like your favorite Pokémon. He wants to know why you listen to him and why you don’t talk over him or cut him off. He wants to know how long you’ve liked him…
He wants to know why you’re so afraid to look at him…when it's all he ever really wanted. 
His thoughts run wild in his head about everything he wants to know about you, but they go silent the second you go in for another kiss.
Well…He knows you want to fuck him!
Your hands are cold from the store’s A/C, Laios ends up jumping slightly as you drag your hands underneath his shirt and along his back and sides. He lifts his arms up for you to pull the shirt off of him and wraps them back around your body in turn.
It was pretty damn cold in there, though.
In a heat-of-the-moment, split decision, he decides to reposition you so he can pull himself free of his pants. His overactive fingers struggle with the buckle of his belt as he begins to curse. You take over for him as he laughs at himself.
“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous… it's exciting, really! But, holy shit, I’m not used to all of this,” 
You don’t blame him, it's riskier than anything you’ve ever done in your life. You’re working part-time in a game store, your life isn’t remotely exciting enough to have had sex in public, much less at work and ON THE CLOCK.
From his perspective, he just found out that you liked him 5 minutes ago and now you’re pulling his dick out to suck him silly in your store’s console closet. Make it make sense!
Laios lets out a few quiet moans as you run your tongue along his cock, looking him straight in the eye. It’s everything he could have ever asked for, but he’s jumpy and keeping one eye on you and one on the door. You pull away and use the remaining spit to jerk him lazily with one of your hands. His head thrashes to the side and he lets out a low cry. 
“You know we’re still the only ones here…you don’t have to be quiet, Laios,” you simper. He breathes heavily and grabs your shoulder to stop your ministrations.
“We’ve got to be quick, I can’t wait much longer,” he rasps out. His hands begin to pull at your shirt. “I want to see you, please…”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice!
Laios’ eyes and hands are glued to your tits as you ride him, his fingers pinching your nipples as he notes the size and the way they bounce with you. Your body was something else to him, it was so familiar and foreign at the same time. He’d notice your shape, your clothes, and the way they complemented your figure and movement as you worked.
…yeah, you were distracting.
To have that same body held within his hands, wrapping snugly around his cock, crashing onto him and around him…He wonders how he could have gotten so lucky. 
“I’m…I’m standing up, I-I’ve got you,” he grits out, every movement against you bringing him closer and closer to the precipice. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he hoists you up. You reach between your bodies to help guide him back in. 
He’s hitting at a new angle, pistoning in and out of you without abandon. Your curses and moans are buried into his shoulder as he keens out. His grunts and his sighs go straight into your ear, his encouragement not lost.
“F-fuck, I want you to look at me,” he says breathlessly. You tear your head from his shoulder and do as he requests. His face is red, sweat dripping from his brow, his iris blown black as his eyes dilate, and his jaw is slack as moans tumble from his mouth. His eyes aren’t staying open as he slams into you, his thrusts losing their rhythmic staccato. “Y-you’re amazing, and this is–”
“Laios, I’m s-so close,” you interrupt him, grabbing him and pulling him forward for a kiss. Your moans are rumbling in your throat as he picks up his pace again. You pull away long enough to breathe but find yourself back on his lips once more. 
You grab and hold one of the wire shelves for support, the position being a bit taxing to maintain for the both of you. He goes to warn you not to do it again but your grip and his movement cause the shelf to fall from the wall just like it did last time. You both yell and your body clenches around his, causing him to double over and almost drop you. 
There goes a whole PS4…
“Fuuck, shit, I don’t care, I don’t care, j-just keep going!” you shout, clawing along his back. Everything around you was becoming too much to bear. The sound and feel of your wetness, skin slapping against skin, the sweaty heat cooled by the A/C. You closed your eyes tightly, you focused on the orgasm rising in your belly, you let yourself get closer, and closer, and–
“I’m gonna cum inside you!” Laios announces with a line of drool running from the seam of his lips. He continued splitting you open with his cock, his form was sloppy but he held you so close to him.
Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to clench against him tightly. Laios fucked you through your release and came shortly after, pressing you down onto himself as he shuddered and groaned. You weren’t sure how the two of you were able to stay upright after that.
Your legs on his back slide down and you hold onto him for support as he slides back out. His pants were still around his ankles, so it was a quick getaway for him to come back with some of the scratchiest brown paper towels your bathroom had to offer.
“T-thanks,” you say, trading his shirt you fished off of the floor for the paper towels. He hums, still pretty dazed. He sits right back in the floor against the wall as you change, watching you almost enraptured as you pull enough clothes on to toddle to the bathroom and finish cleaning up. “That was…something.”
It was something good though.
The rest of the night was spent testing those consoles that fell, just to make sure they weren’t broken. Luckily enough, everything was in working condition, even if the wire shelves remained discarded to the side of the room.
The two of you agreed to just say you clocked out earlier since it was pushing on midnight. You shared the rest of the pizza in the parking lot and drove your separate ways home. After you got inside your apartment, you received a text from Laios:
‘I don’t think we ever finished those counts…’
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End Notes: Some of the work stuff is so specific...Don't ask lol
I'm still working on getting more confident with writing smut and oneshots. I've been writing fanfiction for years but it was all super involved multichapters that never went anywhere! Either way, I really hope you enjoyed reading this because I sure as shit enjoyed writing it!! 😎
Minor edits will be made if I find any mistakes and constructive criticism is always appreciated! (Just don’t be an ass about it 👀)
Credits: Dividers by @/cafekitsune, cover art from 'Daydream Hour' scans
🖤 Rules | Ask Box | Masterlist 🖤
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youvebeenlivingfictional · 6 months ago
Note
Okay, so I’m weirdly into the idea of being someone’s estranged wife???
Imagine being Patrick’s estranged wife?? Like maybe he married you bc he couldn’t have Tashi and then just…never signed the divorce papers? And now he’s knocking on your door bc there’s a challenger he’s gonna play in buttttt his bank account’s a little low so could he pretty please crash with you? He’ll sleep on his couch and be on his best behavior, he swears
Queue him crawling into bed with you at 2 am bc it’s cold in the living room and you’re soft and pretty and whoops, he’s hard
Ooo love this
Warnings: Fingering, Patrick Being Patrick, bitter and estranged ex-wife Reader
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"You have any chicken nuggets?"
"What are you, five?"
"Adults can enjoy chicken nuggets."
They certainly could, but you didn't grace that reply with a response, just watched with tepid interest as he rifled through the contents of your fridge.
A single phrase kept resounding in your mind:
I should've left him on the doorstep.
And maybe you should have. It wouldn't be the first time that you'd given Patrick the cold shoulder, and it wouldn't be the first time that he just parked in your driveway and slept in his car. But you just couldn't stand the sight of him out in the cold, pouting and gnawing on his lower lip in the fish-eye lens of your peephole.
"Why don't we order a pizza?" He tacked on.
We. It was always 'we' with him, but never in the action, or the cost—that was a 'you' action, not a 'we' more often than not.
"Who's paying for it?" You asked. Patrick turned to you with a dopey, guilty little smile affixed to his lips as he cocked his hip.
"Well until I sign the papers, the two shall be as one, right?"
"Yeah—Why haven't you signed, by the way?"
"Your guy's never been able to serve 'em." He turned back to the fridge, ducking his head as he looked around. "You got any beer?"
You rolled your eyes. "Third shelf, at the back."
"Bingo. Want one?"
"Not right now. But thanks for offering me something that I bought and paid for. Really appreciate it."
Patrick huffed a soft laugh as he turned toward you again, opening the beer against the edge of the counter.
"Mine mine mine," He teased. "What is it with you and what's yours, huh?"
"Just stating facts, Zweig."
"So self-righteous, Mrs. Zweig." He used your married name with a vinegary smile before taking a deep swig from his bottle, pointedly ignoring the way that you bristled. "So. Pizza?"
--
Just the couch.
Patrick had pleaded it between bites of pizza, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the crumbs and oil left behind. He'd framed it as a reasonable enough request, like it was the easiest thing in the world to let your estranged husband back into your home.
You won't even know I'm there.
As if you hadn't been fighting to find a harmony within yourself for the last year, trying to serve him papers for the last six months, to get your divorce to take, to rid yourself of his last name.
Watching him sort through the garbage bags of clothing that you'd packed up for him to come and take between tours had been a little pitiful, but he'd unearthed what he'd needed to sleep in.
"Still have a toothbrush for me?" He asked.
"No."
"Face wash?"
"Don't you just use soap?"
"Yeah, but you put me on that, uh—That regimen, that routine."
"You never followed it."
"So you threw the stuff out?"
"I wasn't using it, so. Yeah."
"Huh." Patrick straightened, PJs in hand. You couldn't help but watch him strip off as he passed you, eyeing the ripple of his back muscles as he tossed his shirt in the direction of his bag.
"I'm showering," He called over his shoulder, "If you'd like to join me."
"I'd rather chew glass, but thanks."
--
He was sleeping. He had to be, right? It didn't matter if he was or wasn't. It didn't matter that Patrick Zweig was asleep on your couch, just a floor away. It didn't matter that you were worked up, at the midpoint between pissed off and turned on.
How did he always manage to do that to you?
You should've been able to clock early on that it was trouble. None of your friends or family thought it would work out, and you'd been chagrined when they'd been right. For as much as you had once loved him, for as certain as you and Patrick had been sure you would fit, that you would fix whatever needed fixing, no matter what fate had in store for you, you just...Couldn't.
It didn't help that he had been chasing glory on the court, or that you had spent your relationship trying to fill the shoes of a woman that you could never be. It didn't help that the two of you were just fundamentally different, in ways that you either of you were unwilling to compromise. When he'd left, it hadn't been a surprise, but it had been so goddamn hard to serve him papers. But you'd had such trouble trying to pin him down during your relationship, why should the way you broke be any different?
But when you'd been in bed together—Hell, you'd been even more certain that it could work. You and Patrick just fit. Things had been so right with so little conversation or hesitation. Your needs had fueled one another's, and you'd been able to lose yourself in him. It should have been enough.
But it wasn't then, and it wasn't now.
He was asleep. He had a match the next morning, and he needed his rest. You could do the same—You should do the same. You needed to be staring at the ceiling right now like you need a goddamn hole in the head. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and doing your best to focus on your breathing. In for five... Hold...Out...For...Five...In for...One...Two...Three...Four...
Your eyes opened, your breath catching as you heard the door open. You held completely still as you heard the door close again, chased by the soft pad of feet along your floor before the mattress dipped beside you. The covers shifted, lifting and falling as he laid down.
"Are you asleep?" He murmured. It was another moment before his palm skimmed across your belly, his rough cheek nuzzling against the curve of your shoulder. Your breath left you in a soft sigh, your muscles untensing bit by bit.
"I know you haven't been here in a while," You muttered, "But this is not the couch."
He huffed a soft laugh. "I know," He snuggled closer, and it was just a moment before you felt the press of his cock against your hip. You drew in a shaky breath, hands lowering to his arm.
"Patrick," You mumbled. "You should be asleep."
"I can't sleep." His teeth scraped along your jaw as his fingers snaked under the hem of your nightshirt.
"Indigestion?" You squeaked. "Shouldn't've had that third slice of pizza. I told you not to."
Your eyes squeezed shut as he rolled his hips against you.
"This feel like pizza to you?"
"Well—"
"Baby," He pleaded. "You gonna tell me you didn't miss me?"
It took you a moment, and you couldn't help your slight squirming.
"Not even a little."
He laughed again, and you knew that you hadn't been able to sneak a thing by him.
"You don't have to lie. I saw you watching me." He tipped his chin up, sucking a tender kiss to your neck. And you had, but—
"I wasn't."
Patrick tutted disapprovingly. You shuddered, arching up into his touch as his thumb skimmed across your hardening nipple.
"You're a shitty liar, you know that?"
"You're an asshole," You hissed as Patrick lifted his head.
"You like it."
You couldn't get a word out to argue as Patrick's tongue swept between your lips. You whimpered in spite of yourself, sinking back against your pillows and raising your hand to fist in his hair. He was over you in a moment, body shoving your thighs wide as his hands rucked up the bottom of your sleep shirt. You drew in a sharp breath as his head dipped to catch one of your nipples between his lips. You tightened your grip on his, shivering as he teased it with his tongue.
Patrick's hips ground against yours, rolling against where you're growing slick in your sleep shorts.
"How long's it been?" He murmured, "Huh? Since me?"
And it was too embarrassing to say—too embarrassing to admit that you hadn't slept with anyone since Patrick left.
"Shut up," You hissed, "Just—Please, shut up."
His hand snuck beneath the hem of your shorts, swiping gently across your tender clit, and he grinned as your hips hitched up into his deft touch.
"S'okay," He cooed as he eased a couple of fingers into your tight, aching cunt. "I missed you, too."
--
"You gonna come watch me play?"
As with the rest of the last day or so, your answer should be no. You didn't turn to look at Patrick as you rummaged through your dresser for something to wear.
"I've seen you play, Patrick."
"Not lately." He tried again: "It's a challenger."
You hummed, giving a noncommittal shrug as you pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.
"...Well can I stay here tonight?"
"If you win, sure."
"How will you know I win if you don't come see me?"
You rolled your eyes, hip-checking your drawer shut before pulling up your pants and tugging in your top.
"Fine. Just tonight. You'll have to find somewhere tomorrow night."
"I'll have the prize money by then, I'll crash at a motel."
"Oh, a motel. Hey big spender," You drawled, heading for your door.
"Hey."
"What?"
"You have the papers here?"
It stopped you dead in your tracks, your stomach churning with unease as you looked at him again.
"...What?"
"The divorce papers," He clarified. "I can sign 'em while I'm here."
It would be so easy. It would be so easy to go down to your office and draw the file out of your desk drawer, to plop it down in front of Patrick with your favorite black ballpoint pen, to flip between arrow tabs and instruct, "Sign here, here, here, here, here, and here."
But you found yourself shaking your head.
"I don't have a copy," You fibbed. It took Patrick a moment before he nodded a little.
"Can you get them?"
Hell, were you that out of practice? One night back in bed with you and he was ready to call it? But you were certain that wasn't it—That Patrick was, for once in his goddamn life, trying to make it easy on you after so much hell.
"...Maybe, I don't know," You shrugged. "It's the weekend."
"Okay."
"Coffee?"
"Yeah—Hey."
"What?"
You watched as Patrick pulled the covers away, unashamed of his nakedness as he strode toward you. He grasped your chin, tipping your head for a soft kiss. It took everything in you not to melt into him as he skimmed his hand over your hip, drawing back just enough to give you a sleepy, hazy smile.
"Good morning."
You couldn't help your own, indignant smile.
"Sure, Patrick." You turned away, determined to push on with your day, your life like he wasn't there—like he wouldn't be hanging over you as you made breakfast, or dominating the court as he played, or in your bed again in just a few hours. "Good morning."
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penvisions · 3 months ago
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there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}
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Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader
Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff
A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!
navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
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“Why don’t you date?”
“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.
“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”
“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.
“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”
“Dating and fun are two different things.”
“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”
“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”
The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.
“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”
“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.
“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”
“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”
The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.
“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.
“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.
“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”
“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.
As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.
You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.
He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.
-
Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.
A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.
A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.
The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.
You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.
It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.
The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.
There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.
But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.
Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.
“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.
“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Been here, painting.”
“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.
“No.”
“No?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”
Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.
“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“
“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.
“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”
-
The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.
Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.
They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.
You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.
Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.
But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.
The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.
The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.
-
You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.
And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.
That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.
“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.
He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.
“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.
“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.
“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”
“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”
“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”
“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”
“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”
“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“
“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”
“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.
“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”
“I don’t date old men.”
“No?”
“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”
“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.
“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.
“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”
“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.
“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”
“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.
“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.
“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.
“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.
taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker
@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept
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454 notes · View notes
astralis-ortus · 5 months ago
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thunders of rage
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.
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w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡ ⋆ see masterlist
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the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.
from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.
“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.
“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”
“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.
so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.
“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.
something stresses you out. bad.
“sure.”
chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”
“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”
the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.
“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.
“you should cool off too.”
and with that, chris left.
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it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.
you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.
thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.
but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.
“baby, i’m ho—”
chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.
“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”
“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”
peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.
you felt like crap.
“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”
“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”
the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.
some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.
you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.
“kiss me.”
a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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sutorus · 1 year ago
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imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them
you gave me sm toji brain rot
-🫧 anon
we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji
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you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.
you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.
or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.
megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.
and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.
“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.
toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.
megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.
and are you? you’re unsure.
you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.
you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?
you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.
this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.
megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.
“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”
“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.
you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.
“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.
“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”
“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.
every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.
around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.
complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.
why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.
toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.
it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.
when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.
what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.
it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.
not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.
you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.
toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.
what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.
his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.
you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.
“hello?” is all you can manage to say.
he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.
“what, don’t want it?”
you roll your eyes.
“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”
toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.
“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”
“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.
you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.
toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”
soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.
“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.
the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.
“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.
“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.
toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.
“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”
you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.
suddenly, toji stops.
“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.
“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“
“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”
“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.
but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—
he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.
“then ask me not to.”
he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!
“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.
“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.
“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.
“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”
you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.
“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.
“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“
toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.
“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.
you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“
your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.
he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.
he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.
once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.
you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.
right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.
when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.
your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.
toji is nowhere to be seen.
megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.
as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:
fuck.
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a/n sorry again
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vivwritesfics · 6 months ago
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PLEASE can we get more HOAF ?? Maybe their wedding with absolutely adorable Milo and Olivia OR their wedding night 👀👀👀 ~nurse-sainz
as two of you know, I've been seriously thinking about the hoaf second series. It has a title, but, because I don't want to start ANOTHER series until I finish a current one, it's something I'm going to be working on behind the scenes
1.7K
Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy hormones
Series Masterlist
Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕
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She'd never expected to be pregnant on her wedding day. It was nobody's dream, to be round and swollen while stuffed into a pretty white dress that you just know would look so much better if you weren't pregnant, on your feet all day, unable to partake in any of the drinking.
Her bachelorette party wasn't all that. But she didn't want it to be. The only people she would have invited were the other wags, girls she didn't know all that well. No, her bachelorette party was her and Olivia getting their hair and nails done.
They ended the day getting dinner, just the two of them. They sat there, sharing a too big pizza while Olivia went over her details plans of the wedding.
It was the best bachelorette party ever.
Daniel had two bachelor parties. One that was organised by Max and Lando to be the wildest night of his life, with almost all of the grid accompanying them. And one where he could invite Milo.
The party with Milo was mini golf. Carlos was happy to carry Milo around on his shoulders, teach him all that he knew. The boys had all agreed to let Milo win, but he didn't have to know that. After the golf they had dinner and drinks.
One thing about Milo was he couldn't keep his mouth shut about the baby. Maybe Daniel should have reminded him that Baby Ricciardo was a secret, but he didn't expect Milo to just blurt it out, either.
But none of the drivers were surprised. They couldn't be surprised about baby Ricciardo, not when the couple hadn't exactly been good at hiding it. Daniel's hand on her stomach, the little list of baby names they'd all seen on his phone.
The party without Milo, when Milo was at home with Olivia and his momma, it really was a party. Loud music, drinks, dancing, it had everything. But, the moment Daniel got more than three drinks in his system, he was talking about her.
Arm over Max's shoulder as he slurred out his name and how much he loved her. "I want to have another girl," he said to Max, but it was barely audible. "A little girl that looks just like her."
When she had her first dress fitting, there wasn't a bump. Or, at least, the bump did little to change her frame. Her dream dress fit like a glove and Daniel's mother was crying.
It was naïve to think that the dress would still fit by the time the wedding rolled around. Her bump had gotten exponentially bigger, to the point where she couldn't hit it anymore. Now that the drivers knew, it was only time that the rest of the world knew.
They didn't announce it in any way. No, Daniel's Instagram usually had a picture of her in his photo dumps and this was no exception. Just, this time, her bump was visible in the picture.
If the world of F1 was losing its collective shit, neither of them noticed. The Ricciardo family was wrapped up in their own little bubble, just the way they liked it.
A week before the wedding, her dream dress wasn't fitting. Why the fuck wasn't it fitting? Well, she knew why. It was stupid to think anything would fit over her bump.
"I hate this baby," she said through tears as she rubbed her bump. No, she didn't hate baby Ricciardo, not in the slightest. Actually, she loved baby Ricciardo more than anything. But still, she couldn't help but wish she wasn't pregnant.
The dress she wore on her wedding day wasn't her dream dress. She couldn't wear those cute white heels she wanted to wear, couldn't even see her feet.
As she stared at herself in the mirror, just an hour away from being walked down the aisle, an hour away from marrying the love of her life, she was ready to cry. She held it back, though, couldn't afford to ruin her makeup. "What're we gonna do with you?" She whispered as she cradled her bump.
"Momma?"
She looked at Milo in the mirror before she turned towards him. "C'mere, baby," she said and held her hands out towards him. Fuck, how was he almost seven?
As her son wrapped his arms around her, she wanted time to stop. Just stop, let her live in this moment forever. He was growing up so damn fast, he was going to be a big brother soon. "You look beautiful, momma," he said.
This time, she couldn't help the tears. Stupid pregnancy hormones. "Thank you, Miley," she said through a shaky breath as she stood up and grabbed a tissue. Gently she dabbed at her eyes, trying to save her makeup.
She smoothed her dress over her bump and took Milo's hand. "Let's go become Ricciardos."
Daniel had never been this nervous before. Not in his first race back after McLaren had let him go. He was sweating in his suit as Max stood with him. All of their guests were seated, but the most important people were missing.
The door opened and Olivia and one of her friends, one that had been over a few times, walked in. They tossed the petals out of the little white basket as she walked in behind her.
Daniel knew her relationship with her family was... strenuous, at best. That was why they weren't at the wedding. With her father not there to walk her down the aisle, Milo held her hand.
Daniel's breath caught in his throat. He knew she wasn't in her dream dress, not the dress that matched Olivia's, but she still looked amazing. Holy fuck, it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. But that wasn't what actually did it.
Milo was the one walking her down the aisle. Milo in his little suit that near matched Daniels. He stood tall and proud, head held high as he walked his mother towards his step father. 
The kids sat together through the ceremony. Milo couldn’t stop himself from fiddling with the little pieces of petals as his mother got married. They were incredibly well behaved throughout, with Olivia’s grandparents, and Milo’s grandparents now, too, keeping them company. 
This close, Daniel could see the faults in her makeup. He didn’t care about the faults, she looked gorgeous with or without it. But still, Daniel could see the smudges under her eyes as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 
Mrs Ricciardo. She was Mrs Ricciardo now. 
Daniel didn’t say anything about the evidence of her tears as he kissed her. And, once he had his mouth on her, he never wanted to stop kissing her. He couldn’t dip her, like he wanted to, but his hand cradled her bump, cradled baby Ricciardo. His baby. She was his wife and she was carrying his baby. 
This was the best day of his life. 
Their family and friends were cheering as he walked her out of the church and into the car. Even then, even in the car, he couldn’t keep his lips on her. But he had to make sure she was okay, that took precedent. Even knowing that, Daniel couldn’t pull his lips away from her own. So the words were mumbled against her lips. “Were you crying?”
He tried to sound concerned, by her lips against his had his voice coming out as more of a desperate whine. 
But, as soon as he said it, she pulled away. “I’m fine, Danny,” she said and went to rub at her eyes, rub away the evidence of her tears.
Daniel caught her wrists. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and kissed her again. “My wife looks beautiful.”
The way she looked up at him, fuck, he could have kept her in that car forever. “Say it again.”
“My wife.”
When they arrived at the reception venue, their friends and family were there, waiting. As soon as they climbed out of the car, Milo and Olivia were pulling away from their grandparents, racing towards them. Daniel couldn’t help but pick Olivia up and place her on his hip as Milo held his mothers leg.
“Are we a family now?” Olivia asked, her voice coming out almost like a demand. 
But nobody could blame her. She’d been waiting for this moment for a year and a half. 
Daniel rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “We always were a family, Badger.”
There was no part of her wedding that the new Mrs Ricciardo didn’t enjoy. She wasn’t in her dream dress, but, now she had that ring on her finger, now she was married to the love of her life, she didn’t much care. 
She danced, but she didn’t dance the night away, like she had dreamed. She couldn’t help but be emotional as she sat with Daniel’s parents, her mother and father in law, watching the guests at her wedding. They were dancing more than she was, at her own wedding. 
Holding her bump, speaking softly to baby Ricciardo, she watched as her husband and her children danced. Daniel’s grin was so wide as the three of them were the centre of attention on the dance floor. That was the man she loved. That was the man she married. 
“Your daddy, your siblings and I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered to baby Ricciardo as her mother and father in law watched on, hearts melting. “You’ve got the best daddy going.”
And, as Daniel put Olivia down after spinning her around, he looked over to his wife. She smiled at him, a smile he’d never forget. As Olivia went to dance with Lando and Max took Milo to get something to drink, Daniel walked over to her. 
“Hi, baby,” he said as his hand met her bump. And then he looked up at his wife, meeting her eyes. “Hi, Mrs Ricciardo.”
“Hi, Mr Ricciardo.”
He kissed her, and she never wanted to let him go.
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