#smells like i just snorted “fun”dip
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|| TROLLIE YOU HAVE TO RUN. NOW. RUN. RUN |_
hi okauy. literaully the "leaust" "ominous" messauge to heaur. while my maunauger aund coworker aure "giggling" aund. i "think" kissing. in the restauuraunt.
reauding up on the blog. aunyone know whaut. is "going" on.
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jezebelblues · 1 month ago
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𝐓𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝐇.𝐒 ⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭)
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𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬’ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐂𝐖: smut18+ (piv) oral (f!receiving), softrry, drunkrry, needy!h, alcohol, fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 8k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)
❏ before anyone anons me i made the gif 😧 and thank u for the request anon !! this was so fun to write :) i hope it met ur expectations
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harry was in the kitchen, holding a wine glass half-filled with straight tequila, his pinky finger looped over the rim like it was fine champagne. YN stood next to him, one hand on his arm, steadying herself—or maybe steadying him.
"you're a liability, you know that?" she giggled, her words slurring just enough to make him grin.
"me?" he huffed, leaning into her slightly, his drink sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the glass. "'m the liability? you've been clingin' to me all night, petal, can't walk straight without me."
she smacked his arm lightly, laughing. "it's 'cause you keep givin' me tequila! this is your fault."
he tilted his head, his eyes squinting like he was genuinely considering this. then he shrugged, nonchalant, dimples flashing. "s'pose you're right. but i reckon you love me for it, yeah?”
"love you despite it," she corrected, but she was smiling, her fingers curling into the sleeve of his shirt.
the flat was warm, soft yellow light spilling over cluttered corners and half-empty glasses, the air thick with laughter. it was the kind of late evening that felt like the exact middle of spring—windows cracked open, a cool breeze sneaking in, ruffling the edges of the curtains. someone had put on a playlist an hour ago, though the music had long since melted into the background, now just a hum beneath the chatter. the small group, crowded into the cozy living room, was exactly the right size to make the space feel alive but not cramped.
their flat always smelled faintly of cedarwood and something clean, though tonight it carried undertones of tequila and lime. he’d insisted on tequila because, as he explained with a wide grin and an unconvincing shrug, “s’just easier that way, innit?” no one really argued, though mitch had given a (poorly executed) rick sanchez imitation as a counter, something that harry didn’t quite understand, leaving him to furrow his eyebrows and dart his eyes around as he mulled it over, mumbling, “why are y’speaking like that? i don’t get it.”
now, hours later, harry was sprawled in the corner of the couch, long legs stretched out, a glass balanced precariously on his knee.
“i swear—i’m swearin’ right now—this is the last one.” he mumbled, lifting his glass as though making a toast. his speech was just a little slurred, the tips of his curls sticking to his temples. YN, perched beside him, nudged his side with her elbow, laughing.
“you said that half an hour ago, baby.” she teased, leaning closer to steal a sip from his glass. his free hand immediately looped around her waist, pulling her snug against his side.
“’s different this time,” he insisted, his voice dipping low, mock serious. “i mean it now. promise.”
“oh, you’re so convincing.” she smiled, her fingers absently running along the seam of his shirt, her touch light and familiar.
on the other side of the coffee table, mitch snorted, tipping his head back against the edge of the sofa. his hair, always a little unruly, had fallen out of whatever loose tie it had been in earlier. sarah, seated on the floor beside him with her legs crossed, nudged him in the ribs.
“you’re not much better,” she pointed out, gesturing to the glass in his hand.
“oi, don’t start,” he shot back, lifting a hand in mock defense.
the back-and-forth had been going on like this for the better part of the evening—easy, unfiltered, slightly nonsensical. everyone was comfortably slouched, shoulders loose, cheeks warm, the kind of drunk that makes the room feel like it’s spinning just the tiniest bit, but not enough to care.
harry had been stealing glances at YN all night, grinning at the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, her cheeks flushed from a combination of alcohol and the warmth of the room. she caught him staring at one point and poked his chest, her voice dropping conspiratorially.
“what are you looking at?”
“you.” he shrugged simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, blinking at her as if she was blurry and needed to come into focus.
YN rolled her eyes, though her smile gave her away. she parted her lips to speak, though harry cut her off before she could bother.
"you're all–” he gestured vaguely at her face, his voice lilting like he hadn't figured out the rest of the sentence yet. "and i'm–" another aimless wave of his hand, this time at himself.
"you're what?" she asked, tilting her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to laugh.
harry leaned closer, his knee brushing hers. his curls had started to flatten at his temples, damp from the heat of the room, and his cheeks were flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “i’m in love.” his words were slightly sing-song, punctuated by the tilt of his head.
the room dissolved into chaos not long after, though no one could say for certain what triggered it. maybe it was the tequila. maybe it was just the kind of energy that builds when a group of close friends is together in one place, everyone feeding off the same shared sense of silliness.
“right,” mitch announced suddenly, sitting up straight and nearly spilling his drink in the process. “i bet—” he paused, frowning in concentration as though piecing the words together took effort. “i bet i could do more push-ups than you.”
he blinked, the challenge taking a moment to register. then his brows lifted, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“you’re jokin’, right?”
“nah, m’serious.” he leaned forward, setting his glass on the table with a decisive thunk.
“you’re both idiots.” sarah breathed, though she was already pulling her phone out, clearly ready to document whatever was about to happen.
YN groaned, burying her face in her hands. “please don’t encourage them.”
“what, you don’t believe in me?” harry asked, feigning hurt as he turned to look at her.
“you’ve had, like, seven shots of tequila, h.”
he held up a finger. “six. maybe five and a half.”
she looked at him, tongue in cheek, her eyes glimmering with amusement. “not helping your case.”
in the end, there was no stopping it. mitch had already shifted to his knees, clearing a space in front of the coffee table. harry followed suit, swaying slightly as he stood and then immediately dropping down to the floor.
“’s not fair, though,” harry slurred as YN slid a pillow beneath his fists. “i’ve got longer arms. more distance t’cover.”
“what kind of logic is that?” sarah asked, laughing.
“solid–“ hiccup “–solid logic.” he muttered, lowering himself into position.
for the first few push-ups, they were evenly matched. mitch, whose hair kept falling in his face, managed to hold his form pretty well, his elbows bending at clean angles. harry, despite the tequila, seemed entirely unbothered, his movements smooth and steady.
“oh, this is ridiculous,” YN mumbled, though she was grinning now, leaning forward with her chin resting in her palm.
“keep count.” mitch grunted, while sarah angled her phone to get both of them in the frame.
“seven,” YN called, her voice louder over the sound of their laughter.
“eight,” sarah chimed in.
“nine,” she smiled, though by this point, mitch was visibly struggling. his arms trembled, his breaths coming out in quick puffs, his hair falling into his mouth. harry, on the other hand, was still going strong, his movements punctuated by muttered comments.
“easy.” push. “light work.” push–hiccup. “this one’s for you, petal.” he added, shooting a quick wink at his girlfriend.
“oh my god.”
“thirteen,” sarah announced, though she sounded doubtful as mitch wobbled dangerously, his arms nearly giving out.
"how's he doin' that?" sarah asked, watching harry like he was some kind of anomaly.
harry started to strain just a bit, "core strength, love.”
"core strength my ass," mitch shot back, collapsing flat onto the floor. "he's built like a fuckin' slinky. bounces back."
YN laughed so hard she snorted, and harry immediately glanced up, his expression melting into something soft and dopey the second he saw her.
“i’m—i’m done.” mitch declared, already rolling over onto his back.
harry sat back on his knees, raising his fists in mock triumph. “and the crowd goes wild,” he said, grinning up at YN.
“you’re arrogant.” she sighed, though she reached for his wrist, tugging him back onto the couch beside her.
“what can i say,” harry mumbled, settling against her. “m’good at everything.”
the evening wound down slowly after that, the energy softening into something quieter, sleepier. sarah scrolled through the video on her phone, narrating bits of it for everyone’s amusement.
“look at mitch,” she said, laughing. “he looks like he’s dying.”
“i was dying,” mitch muttered from the floor, his arm thrown dramatically over his eyes.
YN reached for harry’s hand, threading her fingers through his, her voice low and teasing.
“are you proud of yourself?”
“very.” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple.
and for a while, no one said much of anything. the playlist had shifted to something softer, the kind of music you hum along to without thinking. the tv, still on in the background, flickered faintly, casting shadows across the room. harry’s arm rested around YN’s shoulders, his eyes fluttered closed, his thumb drawing slow circles against her skin.
mitch was still on the floor, sprawled out like a martyr, while sarah waved her phone in his direction, wobbling as she stood.
"y'done, jesus christ?" she asked, her words swimming together in a way that made her laugh at herself. "need any help, or you reckon you'll just ascend back t'heaven on your own?"
“ha fuckin’ ha," mitch mumbled, lifting one hand in a weak attempt at a rude gesture. "perfectly fine, thank you."
"you're not," sarah replied, flopping onto the arm of the sofa. she nearly slid off, catching herself with a giggle before poking YN with her foot. "and neither's your fella."
YN glanced sideways at harry, who was leaning so far into her that she might as well have been holding him upright. his nose was tucked against her temple, and he was humming something under his breath—a soft, disjointed melody that might've been a song or might've been nothing at all.
"all good," he muttered, his words smudged around the edges. "better'n mitch, anyway."
"low bar.”
he opened one eye, a mischievous glint sparking through his drowsy expression as he glanced at mitch, then back toward YN. "m in love with you, y'know," he breathed, loud enough for the whole room to hear.
"we know.” mitch groaned from the floor.
"no, but like–” he pushed himself up slightly, though his movements were clumsy, his balance swaying like a tree in the wind. "like, really in love. like, proper. s’serious.”
“oh yeah?” she asked, though her hands flew to her cheeks, trying to cover the pink that bloomed there.
he reached out, his fingers fumbling to gently tug her hands away from her face. "don't hide from me," he pouted, his voice soft and warm. "can't handle it when you hide."
sarah made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, shaking her head as she leaned over to prod mitch with her foot. "we need to leave before he gets worse," she said.
"worse? how can he get worse?" he replied, his voice muffled from where he was still sprawled on the rug.
harry didn't seem to notice them. he was focused entirely on YN, his gaze heavy and unflinching as he settled his head into her lap.
"you're so pretty," he hummed, his words slow and drawn out like he was tasting them for the first time. "have i told you that tonight?"
"a couple of times.”
"doesn't feel like enough.” he frowned, his fingers brushing against her knee like he was grounding himself in her. "you're... you're unreal. sometimes i look at you and i can't believe—" he trailed off, shaking his head like words weren't enough.
"he's gonna make me cry.” sarah whispered, half-laughing as she leaned into mitch's shoulder.
"you'll get used to it.” YN rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling.
harry frowned deeper, looking up at her. "don't roll your eyes at me. 'm being serious."
"oh, i know you are, dork.” she grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
his eyes fluttered shut at the touch, a small, pleased sound escaping his lips.
"if i don't call an uber now, i'm never getting out of here.” sarah said suddenly, sitting up and reaching for her phone.
"why would you wanna leave?" harry asked, turning his head to squint at her. "you're comfy. stay."
"gotta leave before this turns into a whole bloody soft-core," mitch muttered, finally pushing himself into a sitting position.
harry’s eyes narrowed in slight confusion, his lips parting as he whispered the word soft-core in different tones over and over as if it might click.
mitch let out a noise that was half a laugh, half a sigh. "you’ll get it eventually, mate.”
sarah stood, brushing off her jeans as she looked down at YN. "you gonna be alright with him?"
she glanced at her boyfriend, who was still nestled into her lap, mulling mitch’s response still. "he's harmless," she shrugged. "just annoying when he's drunk–”
harry interrupted with a sharp clap of his hands that turned into a point in mitch’s direction, shoulders shaking in slurred, squeaky laughter. “s-soft–core porno!” he giggled, his cheeks flushed and eyes crinkled. “that was a good one. this guy.”
mitch rolled his eyes, waving harry’s laughter off before he looked at YN. “have fun with this fool in the morning.”
"love you.” he mumbled immediately, moving his hand to give her thigh an exaggerated squeeze.
"yeah, yeah.” she laughed as she pried his hand off her.
"alright, we're off," sarah announced, grabbing mitch's arm and pulling him to his feet.
"safe travels! love you guys!” harry called weakly, his words slurring together as he waved at them from where he lay.
YN walked them to the door, leaning against the frame as they stepped out into the hallway.
"text me when you're home.” she insisted, earning a nod from sarah.
when she turned back into the flat, harry was sitting upright on the couch, his legs tucked under him like a kid waiting to be told a bedtime story.
he pouted slightly, "you left me.”
“and you lived!” she smiled, as if she was astonished. “my boy’s a survivor.”
"barely.” he groaned, flopping dramatically back against the cushions.
YN crossed the room and plopped down beside him, nudging his shoulder with hers. "you're so much worse than usual tonight."
"can't help it," he shrugged, his head tipping to rest on her shoulder. "you bring it out in me."
"oh, so this is my fault now?" she teased, her hand sliding into his hair again.
he only hummed an, “mhm,” before he tried to push himself closer toward her.
"stay here forever," he mumbled.
"i already live here," she reminded him.
"no, like—forever," he insisted, his fingers brushing hers where they rested on the couch. "promise you won't leave me. not ever."
YN turned her head to look at him, her heart twisting at the vulnerable expression on his face. “baby, where's this coming from?"
he shrugged, looking down at their hands. "just love you so much it scares me sometimes."
"i'm not going anywhere.”
"promise?"
"promise.” she whispered, leaning forward to press her forehead to his.
his breath hitched, and for a moment, they just stayed like that, the quiet settling around them like a blanket.
"alright," he breathed finally, his voice shaky but lighter now. "but you have to keep scratching my head or i'll revoke your girlfriend privileges."
the flat felt too quiet now that mitch and sarah were gone, the absence of their voices leaving only the faint buzz of the tv and the occasional sound of cars splashing through puddles outside. the mess of empty bottles and glasses scattered across the coffee table didn't seem to matter. nothing did, really. just him. just her.
harry's lips found hers eventually, and god, it was all so drunk and messy. the kind of kiss where his mouth didn't quite find the right angle, and she ended up laughing against him, her hands pushing gently at his chest.
"you're so bad at this," she teased, her words soft and slurred, her face warm with the alcohol coursing through her.
he pulled back just enough to look at her, his brows furrowing dramatically, lips parted in mock-offense. "bad at this? me?"
"yeah," she said, biting back another laugh. “you're awful. terrible. completely hopeless."
"hopeless?" he repeated, his accent thicker, vowels stretching and tangling together. his hands slid down her back, settling on her hips with a grip that was just firm enough to make her breath hitch. "you're sittin' with me, kissin' me, tellin' me i'm hopeless. 's'not very nice, is it?"
"maybe you deserve it.” she grinned, her forehead leaning against his.
he made a low, disbelieving sound in his throat, but his lips were twitching, caught somewhere between outrage and affection. "you're trouble, you are. absolute trouble."
"and you love it."
"fuckin' right, i do," he said, smiling as his hands tugged her hips forward slightly, pulling her more firmly into his lap.
the movement had her tumbling into him, her face pressed against his neck as they both laughed, a breathless, bubbling kind of laughter that only made her feel warmer. his breath tickled her ear as he spoke again, voice soft but tinged with that familiar teasing edge.
"bet i'm not that bad at it," he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just beneath her ear.
"you are, though," she insisted, but her voice was quieter now, a little unsteady.
"mm, don't think so," he hummed, his mouth trailing clumsily down her neck, his stubble rough against her skin. "reckon you'd've gone t’bed by now if i was, wouldn't you?"
her fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck. "reckon i'm too drunk to leave," she teased, but the way her voice caught on the last word betrayed her.
"nah," he said, one hand drifting under the hem of her shirt, his fingers brushing against her bare skin. "you're drunk, but not that drunk. you like me too much."
"you're so full of yourself," she whispered, laughing again, but it came out breathier this time, her body leaning into his touch without thinking.
he hummed, his thumb tracing slow circles over her side. "but y'don't seem t'mind."
she didn't. not one bit.
his lips found hers again, slower this time, a little steadier despite the alcohol making his movements clumsy. he kissed her like he had all the time in the world, like they weren't surrounded by a sea of half-empty glasses and the faint smell of tequila.
things felt hazy, lazier, punctuated by quiet giggles and the occasional whispered comment that sent them both into fits of laughter. his hands were warm and wandering, slipping under her shirt, tracing the curve of her waist, sliding up her back.
"you're gonna get me all tangled," she muttered when his hand accidentally caught the hem of her bra, tugging it sideways.
"oops," he said, grinning sheepishly, his fingers clumsily fixing it. "sorry, petal. too drunk f’precision, aren't i?"
"you're too drunk for a lot of things," she teased, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"uh-uh," he murmured, his hands settling on her hips again, adjusting them roughly, sloppily as he shifted her back to rest against the cushions. "not for this. not for you."
her chest tightened at the way he said it, his voice soft and so full of affection that it made her feel like the center of the universe.
the couch creaked under their combined weight, and harry was leaning too far into her, half on top of her, his body slumped and heavy in that jellied, boneless way. his mouth was pressed to her neck, leaving messy kisses between murmured half-thoughts, most of which didn't even make sense. '…m’tellin' you," he mumbled, his lips brushing against her skin. "you're too beautiful for your own good. s'gonna be a problem f’me."
"a problem?" she repeated, laughing breathlessly as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, trying to steady him. "harry, you're literally falling over."
"no m’not," he insisted, though his weight shifted again, and his elbow slipped off the armrest. he caught himself just in time, his hand landing somewhere between the cushion and her thigh.
"you are!" she laughed a bit harder now, her body shaking with it.
he looked at her, all wide, glassy green eyes and flushed cheeks, his hair a mess of curls that kept falling into his face. "i’m not," he said again, grinning in that slow, drunk way that made her heart trip over itself.
then, as if to prove his point, he leaned in closer, nudging her chin with his nose before kissing her again, clumsily and so, so sweet.
"har–” she started, but she barely got the word out before his knee slipped, and suddenly he was gone, tumbling sideways off the couch.
it happened so fast she didn't even have time to grab him. one second, he was on her, warm and heavy and everywhere, and the next, he was on the floor in a heap of gangly limbs and laughter.
"jesus,” she gasped, leaning over the edge of the couch to look at him.
but harry wasn't upset. not even a little bit. he was lying on his back, laughing so hard his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving with it.
she covered her face with her hands, though she couldn't stop laughing either. "you okay?"
"all good.” he said through his laughter, his voice a little high-pitched from how breathless he was.
he rolled onto his side, one hand braced on the floor, the other wiping at his face as he grinned up at her. "just... miscalculated. s'all."
"think that’s an understatement, baby.” she shook her head as she sat up on the cushions, still giggling.
“see?” he pushed himself up to his knees with a dramatic groan, "you’re too gorgeous for me t'function right now."
she watched him, her laughter softening into a fond smile as he sat back on his heels, looking up at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
his hands, big and clumsy but warm, found her knees, gently pushing them apart as he shifted closer, his breath still unsteady from laughing.
"harry,” she murmured, a little breathless now, her voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a warning.
he shushed her, his fingers brushing up her thighs, just barely slipping under the hem of her shorts. "just…lemme,”
"lemme what?" she asked, though her body was already responding to him, her knees falling wider apart.
he grinned, tilting his head to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh. "taste you," he slurred, his voice low and warm and so full of affection that it made her toes curl. "s’been all i can think about."
her tummy flipped, and she bit her lip, her fingers curling into the edge of the couch cushion. "you’re too drunk for this."
he shook his head, pressing another kiss to her thigh, this one a little higher. "no, m’not. i’m exactly drunk enough. look–” he gestured vaguely at himself, nearly losing his balance before catching himself on her leg. "perfectly steady."
she couldn't help it—she laughed, her head tipping back against the couch as she looked down at him.
his hands slid farther up her legs, feather-light and teasing, enough to make a heat pool between her thighs, harry gazing up at her through his eyelashes.
she tried to say something, but the words got caught in her throat as he leaned forward, his face so close now, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. the heat of him, the desperation in his touch, sent a shiver racing up her spine.
"baby–” she breathed, her voice softer now, less sure.
his eyes were hazy but so full of love it made her chest ache. "please," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, something that sounded dangerously close to a whimper. "lemme taste it, yeah? promise i’ll be good."
her breath hitched, and for a moment, all she could do was nod, her hands trembling slightly as they moved to his hair.
"yeah, petal?” he asked, his grin widening, and the sheer joy in his expression made her heart feel like it was going to burst.
“yeah.”
his hands were unsteady, but they were so careful, so sure of their purpose as they slid further up her thighs, the soft cotton of her shorts bunching under his fingertips. he was still grinning like an idiot, lips hovering just above her skin, his curls brushing against her as he peppered sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of her leg. "you're so soft," he mumbled, voice muffled against her thigh, his words sticky with alcohol and affection.
"it feels good.” she whispered back, her hands carding through his curls, tugging gently when his teeth scraped just a little too hard.
"you love me?” he asked, turning his head to rest his cheek against her, blinking up at her like a puppy who'd just been caught making a mess.
her fingers stilled in his hair as he looked up at her, all wide, glassy green eyes and flushed cheeks, his lips parted slightly as he waited for her answer. she bit her bottom lip, feeling the words catch in her throat as she stared down at him.
"you already know i do.” she murmured, her voice soft and shaky, her hands sliding down to cup his face. her thumbs brushed over his cheeks, his skin warm beneath her touch.
"say it, though," he slurred, a little whiny now, his lips forming into a slight pout.
"i love you, h.” she whispered, her voice trembling but firm, and his expression softened immediately, his eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his face into her palm.
"love you too," he muttered, almost too quiet for her to hear, though his words were followed by a sloppy kiss to the inside of her wrist, his lips warm and soft against her skin.
and then, without missing a beat, his mouth was back on her thigh, moving higher with a desperation that had her legs trembling.
"smell so fuckin' good," he muttered, his voice muffled against her skin. his hands slid up to the waistband of her shorts, fumbling slightly as he tugged at the fabric. "need these off, petal. lemme see you."
her breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing as she lifted her hips slightly, helping him ease the shorts down her legs. his hands were uncoordinated, tugging too hard at one side and almost making her laugh, but the intensity in his expression stopped her. he was looking at her like she was something sacred, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he pushed the shorts off and tossed them aside.
"you're s’beautiful," he said, his words slurring together as his hands settled on her thighs again, his thumbs stroking the soft skin there. "you know that? d'you even know?"
"you're drunk.”
"no such thing," he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned in, his lips brushing over her panties. "could be fuckin' blackout and i'd still want you more than anything. always want you, YN."
she couldn't help it—she whimpered, the sound surprising even herself as her fingers slid into his hair again, tugging gently to pull him closer.
he looked up at her with that soft, pleading expression that made her heart stutter. "gonna let me?”
her voice caught in her throat, and all she could do was nod, her fingers tightening in his curls as he grinned, his dimples flashing even in his drunken haze.
"that's m’girl," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her hip before hooking his fingers under the waistband of her panties and sliding them down.
the cool air made her shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his mouth, the way he pressed soft, deliberate kisses to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, working his way higher.
he let out a breathy laugh as he settled between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her steady. "smell like heaven. taste like it too, i bet."
she whimpered, her head tipping back against the couch as his tongue flicked out, the first slow, teasing stroke making her whole body jolt.
he groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her, and she couldn't hold back the moan that spilled from her lips, loud and unrestrained.
"that's it," he sighed, his voice muffled as his tongue moved against her clit, his hands tightening on her thighs. "that's m’good girl. so sweet for me."
his words were slurred and incoherent, broken up by the way he licked and sucked at her pussy like she was spilling honey, like he couldn't get enough.
her hands clutched at his hair, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as her legs trembled on either side of his head.
his tongue swirled and flattened against her until her hips bucked more than once, a shaking mess in his hands as he pulled her closer to his mouth—so close he could drown in her (not that he’d mind).
“fuck–” she moaned, a shaky exhale leaving her lips as he dipped lower, his tongue flicking against her hole, sloppy and eager.
he hummed against her, the sound low and rough and completely unselfconscious, like he couldn't help but lose himself in her. "could stay here forever," he muttered, his lips moving against her like a prayer. "live here. die here. s'worth it."
his hands gripped her thighs tighter as she let out the lightest giggle from his words, pulling her closer, spreading her wider. he kissed her deeper, his tongue sliding into her, slow and deliberate and so desperate it made her chest ache.
her breath hitched, her legs trembling on either side of his head, and he groaned like she was the best thing he'd ever tasted, like he couldn't get enough. "god, you're so good," he slurred, his voice unsteady as he pulled back just enough to look up at her, his lips slick and swollen. "so, so good, YN. d'you even know? fuckin' perfect, petal. can't believe you're mine."
the rest of his words melted into incoherent sounds, soft groans and murmured praise that blended with her own breathy moans as he delved back in to lap at her, circling her clit like it was the only thing that mattered.
her head tipped back, her body arching into his touch as he dragged her closer and closer to the edge, his movements clumsy but so desperate, so full of love that it made her chest ache.
when she came, it was sudden and all-consuming, her body shaking as she cried out, her moans spilling into the quiet room like music. harry didn't stop, his hands holding her steady as his tongue worked her through it, his own groans muffled against her as though he was enjoying every second as much as she was.
when her body finally stilled, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps, he pressed one last soft kiss to her inner thigh before leaning back, his face flushed and glistening, his grin wide and satisfied.
harry shifted up the couch with all the determination of a man who was too drunk to move properly but too stubborn to let that stop him. his arms framed either side of her, his body hovering as best he could, though it was more of a slow collapse than anything elegant. he grunted softly as he settled his weight, pressing her deeper into the cushions, their bodies flush in a way that made both of them shiver despite the warmth of the room.
she let out a quiet laugh, breathless against the way his curls brushed against her face, sticking to his damp forehead. he huffed at the sound, lips tugging into a sloppy grin before pressing them clumsily to hers. the kiss was slow and sweet at first-warm and gentle, his mouth barely brushing against hers like he was trying to memorize the feeling.
but then she shifted slightly beneath him, her fingers curling into his sides, and it was like something broke loose in him. the kiss deepened, messy and urgent, all soft gasps and the taste of tequila lingering on his lips. he kissed her like he was starved for it, as if every second that passed without her mouth on his was unbearable.
his hands roamed her body as if he didn't know where to settle, tugging at her waist, smoothing over her thighs, curling under her back like he needed to feel every part of her. his hips pressed against hers instinctively, and he groaned into her mouth, the sound loud and unfiltered as he broke the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead falling to hers.
harry looked down at her, his eyes blown wide, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he tried to push himself up further, but his movements were clumsy, his arms wobbling under his own weight. she couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped her lips, and he scrunched his face into a dramatic pout, shaking his head slightly like a sleepy puppy.
his hands fumbled at the hem of his jeans, tugging once before stopping completely, his shoulders sagging. he groaned softly, his head dropping to her shoulder with an audible thud.
"bloody things," he mumbled against her skin, though the words were barely coherent.
she smiled softly to herself, her hands sliding up his back, her fingers brushing over the waistband where he'd given up.
gently, she nudged at his hips, wordlessly guiding him upward until he sat back on his knees, his hands resting heavily against her thighs for balance. his breathing was heavy, his cheeks flushed pink, his curls damp against his forehead.
there was a quiet kind of helplessness in the way he looked at her then—needy and desperate, his lips parted, his brows furrowed slightly like he couldn't figure out how to do this on his own. she didn't make him ask.
her hands moved to the button of his jeans, quick but careful as she popped it open. he let out a soft, shaky exhale as she tugged the zipper down, his body trembling just slightly under her touch. the denim caught on his hips as she tried to push it down, and harry huffed again, adjusting his weight clumsily to help her pull the fabric free.
"lift," she murmured softly, and he obeyed without hesitation, planting his hands firmly on either side of her hips and raising his body just enough to let her drag the jeans down.
he collapsed back onto his knees with a relieved groan as the fabric pooled around his legs, his head tipping back, his chest rising and falling like he'd just run a marathon. she reached for the waistband of his boxers next, her movements slower this time, deliberate, her fingers brushing against the bare skin of his hips as she slid the fabric down.
his breath hitched at the contact, and he swayed slightly, his hands curling into the cushions beside her for balance. for a moment, he just stared down at her, his expression soft and hazy and so full of need that it made her stomach flip.
"there," she whispered softly, her hands moving to rest against his thighs, steadying him.
harry blinked slowly, his eyes dragging over her face as if he were seeing her for the first time. then, without a word, he leaned back down, his body pressing hers into the cushions again as his lips found hers.
the kiss was desperate now, sloppier than before, their teeth bumping together as they both tried to breathe and laugh through it. his hands slid beneath her, wrapping around her back like he was holding her in place, his chest pressing firmly to hers with every ragged breath.
he just rocked against her instinctively, his movements uncoordinated but eager, drawing a quiet gasp from her lips. harry groaned softly in response, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as he muttered something incoherent.
his body was heavy against hers, his warmth and weight overwhelming, but there was something grounding in the way he held her, in the quiet hum of his breathing against her neck. she threaded her fingers into his hair, stroking softly at the curls, and he shivered, his hips pressing closer against hers with a whimper that he didn't bother trying to hold back.
"feel so good," he murmured, his voice muffled and thick, each word dripping with need. "fuckin—love you. need–need to be inside.”
her chest ached at the way he said it, so raw and honest, and she pulled him closer, their bodies tangling together in the dim light of the flat. harry kissed her again, his hands curling around her waist, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him steady.
he was desperate and clumsy, but god, he was hers. every part of him, hers.
harry moved in desperation, his body heavy and warm against hers as he lined himself up, his forehead pressing to hers. his breathing was ragged, sharp exhales mingling with hers, their chests rising and falling in time. every movement he made was tinged with an uncoordinated eagerness, like he couldn't bear to wait any longer.
he pushed in slowly at first, a groan catching in his throat as he sank into her dripping cunt, his hands gripping at her waist, rough and unsteady.
her body arched instinctively beneath him, her breath hitching as the stretch of his cock pulled a quiet gasp from her lips.
he froze for a moment, his chest pressed to hers, his arms trembling just slightly from the effort of holding himself up. it was like the sensation alone had shattered him, that raw, shaky pause where the world stopped and all that was left was her.
a shaky exhale escaped him, his lips brushing against her cheek as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. he groaned low and drawn-out, the sound muffled against her skin, his grip on her hips tightening as though he was trying to catch his breath.
he started to move, slow and unsteady, his hips rocking forward with a rhythm that was anything but precise—clumsy and needy but so full of need it didn't matter. every thrust drove him deeper into her velvety walls, his body trembling with the effort, soft curses slipping from his lips as he moved.
his weight pressed her further into the cushions, the creak of the couch mixing with the faint, unrestrained sounds escaping them both—her breathless moans, his whiny, broken groans, sounds neither of them were capable of stifling. everything felt louder in the quiet of the flat, the slow slap of skin against skin, the occasional sharp intake of breath when he hit just the right spot.
her hands slid up his back, her nails scraping lightly against his skin, and harry's body jolted in response, his thrusts faltering. he let out a choked whimper, his face still buried in her neck, his lips pressing sloppy kisses against her skin between ragged breaths.
"fuck," he groaned into her ear, though the word wasn't clear, his voice so shaky and low it dissolved into nothing.
he shifted slightly, adjusting his angle, and the next thrust pulled a gasp from her lips—a sharp rut right against the spongy spot where she felt him the most.
her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him closer, and harry groaned again, his movements growing rougher, needier.
his arms shook where they braced against the cushions, his entire body trembling from the effort as he picked up his pace, the steady slap of his hips against hers becoming louder, more insistent. there was no rhythm to it, no finesse—just harry losing himself in her, fucking into her like he'd come undone, like his body couldn't stop itself from chasing the feeling of her pussy wrapped around him.
his curls brushed against her cheeks, damp with sweat, his breath hot and uneven as he nuzzled into her neck. the sounds he made were broken now—small, helpless whines and whimpers escaping him between harsh, ragged breaths.
her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging softly, and his whole body stuttered in response, his hips driving forward with a sharp snap that had her gasping, her voice loud and unrestrained. the sound pulled another whine from him, his hands slipping from her hips to drag up her sides, his thumbs stroking over the curve of her waist, up toward the swell of her tits, the sensitive bud that tightened with his touch.
the couch creaked with every frantic movement, the room filled with the echo of their ragged breaths and soft cries. harry's body never stilled, his thrusts erratic and desperate, his chest pressed tightly to hers their sweat-slicked skin sticking together.
his body tensed as he started to lose control, his pace faltering, his movements turning jerky and uneven. his arms gave out then, and he collapsed on top of her, his forehead pressing against her shoulder as his hips snapped into her, over and over, his entire body trembling.
her breath caught, her back arching as the pressure built between them, everything else blurring into the background—nothing but the feeling of his cock, the sound of him, the weight of him.
and then she felt him shudder, a broken groan ripping from his throat as he buried himself deep, the twitch of his length as he spilt himself inside her, his entire body going rigid. he trembled against her, his hands clutching at her waist as though holding on for dear life, his voice dissolving into breathless whimpers against her neck.
harry didn't pull away, didn't move. he stayed draped over her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his face still buried in her neck. his hands smoothed over her sides, shaking slightly as he traced soft, lazy patterns against her skin, grounding himself in the warmth of her.
the silence settled over them slowly, the only sound left in the room their breathing, loud and uneven as they both came down. harry pressed a kiss to her shoulder-soft, tender, nothing like the desperation from moments before.
"fuck," he mumbled finally, his voice hoarse and muffled. "m’addicted to your pussy. swear it."
she let out a soft, breathless laugh, her hands still tangled in his hair as she scratched lightly at his scalp. his whole body relaxed at the motion, a quiet, contented sigh escaping him as he melted further into her.
they stayed tangled together on the couch for a while, the quiet hum of the flat settling around them, their breathing slowly evening out. harry didn’t move much—just shifted enough to nuzzle his face further into her neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses to her skin like he couldn’t quite help himself. her fingers carded through his hair, slow and steady, the repetitive motion lulling him into a contented daze.
“you comfortable there?” she murmured, her voice soft, muffled slightly by the way her cheek pressed against the curls at his temple.
“mmh,” he hummed, the sound low and heavy. “too comfortable. can’t move.”
“i’m not carrying you to bed,” she teased, her lips curving into a tired smile.
he let out a quiet groan, a sound so dramatic it made her laugh softly, her body shaking beneath him. he lifted his head slowly, resting his chin against her chest as he blinked up at her, his green eyes sleepy and glassy.
“‘s not fair, you’re too pretty,” he mumbled, grinning softly. “don’t wanna leave you here.”
“stuck with me either way, baby.” she whispered, brushing his curls back from his face, her fingers lingering at his temple.
his smile softened at that, his eyes fluttering shut briefly as he leaned into her touch. then, with an exaggerated sigh, he pushed himself up, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated.
“alright,” he said, though his voice was still thick with sleep and leftover drunkenness. “bedtime. c’mere.”
before she could protest, his arms were already curling around her, one under her knees and the other cradling her back as he lifted her off the couch.
“harry—” she gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. “you’re gonna drop me.”
he scoffed at that, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip, pulling her closer against him. “m’gonna pretend i didn’t hear that.”
she sighed into him, letting her cheek rest against the crook of his shoulder as he carried her across the room, his bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. her fingers slid into his hair again, stroking gently, and he let out a quiet, pleased hum at the sensation.
he moved slowly, carefully, his steps deliberate despite the weight of the tequila still sitting in his veins. he was headed toward the bedroom, but as he passed the kitchen, something caught his eye.
a glass—half full of tequila, a lone lime slice floating lazily in the liquid.
harry paused mid-step, his arms tightening around YN to keep her secure as he turned his head, squinting at the glass like it had personally called his name.
“oh, for god’s sake,” she muttered, though her voice was warm and amused, her fingers still playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.
harry ignored her, shifting her weight slightly to free one hand, his arm still wrapped firmly around her waist. with the other, he reached for the glass, his movements slow and exaggerated, like he was performing a high-stakes maneuver.
“i can’t believe you,” she said, her laughter muffled by his shoulder.
“can’t leave it there,” he replied, lifting the glass to his lips and draining it in one go. the tequila burned down his throat, and he winced slightly, his face scrunching up before he set the empty glass back on the counter with a quiet clink.
“all better now?” she teased, tilting her head slightly to glance up at him.
“much.” he grinned widely, bunny teeth and dimples as he adjusted his grip on her again, turning back toward the bedroom.
he carried her the rest of the way, nudging the bedroom door open with his foot before stepping inside. the room was dimly lit by the streetlights filtering through the curtains, casting faint, golden shadows over the rumpled sheets and pillows.
harry eased her down onto the bed, following after her almost immediately, collapsing onto the mattress with a soft groan. she laughed as he pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face in her neck again, his legs tangling with hers.
“this is where i’m stayin’,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her skin.
“good,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, her fingers brushing through his curls again.
they settled into the bed together, the weight of the night pulling them under like a blanket, warm and heavy and sweet. harry’s breathing slowed, his arms still tight around her as if he was afraid she might slip away in the dark.
“love you,” he murmured, the words barely audible, slurred with sleep.
“love you too,” she whispered back, her voice soft as her eyes fluttered shut, her hand still tangled in his hair.
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tojicide · 3 months ago
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⠀⠀ BOO! ☆ SYLUS QIN.
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summary. the ruby wedding ring your ex-husband gave you should hold no meaning by now, so that was why you wore it on halloween night as an accessory to your costume. it shouldn’t be a big deal… right?
warnings. fem! reader. established history, pet names, jealousy, mutual degradation, spitting, fingering, oral ( fem. receiving ), unprotected p in v. wc. 3.2k.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⟡ masterlist | request
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Dressing up as a vampire was a stroke of genius if you do say so yourself.
A black floor length dress with a mighty high leg slit with your makeup done to the nines…
After being showered with compliments and approached by men who fawned over you like their lives depended on it, you were almost inclined to believe that being this sexy should be punishable by law.
Luckily for you, it isn’t, and that’s exactly why you’re a free woman who is able to enjoy this wonderful Halloween night.
Strobe lights fan over the sea of people you’re currently floating in, the smell of alcohol and the musk of sweat and cologne swarming you entirely. Music blared over loud speakers, rendering you practically deaf to your surroundings, and perhaps that was why you hadn’t noticed your ex-husband approach you from behind.
“Boo,” he purrs into your ear as he dips his head just enough for his deep voice to be heard, his large hand snaking around your waist to spin you around.
Your smile immediately falters upon seeing the white-haired man who seems to make it his life goal to ruin any ounce of fun that you have without him. “Sylus,” you deadpan.
“Why, excuse me,” he replies through a dark chuckle. “I had no idea we were going to be so brash. Had I known,” he raises his hand to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, “I would have tugged on these pretty locks of yours to get your attention instead.”
You raise your hand to pull his hand away from your hair, and that’s the moment when he sees it.
(Your ring. He’d recognize it anywhere, of course, he had it designed just for you.)
Sylus takes your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the garnet jewel that you loved so much. “Hm. What’s this?”
You hate how easy it is for him to pick up on such minuscule details about you. It makes you feel flattered, which is absolutely disgusting. You don’t want to feel flattered, not by your ex-husband of all people.
“A ring,” you reply, sliding your hand from his grasp. “An accessory to my costume.”
Sylus shortly hums, his red eyes giving you a once over as he pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Is it necessary to wear it on that finger in particular? You know the implications of such a thing.”
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a ring. It hardly means anything anymore.”
He bristles at that, raising a brow at you. It stung to hear, but he knew that you didn’t mean it. You knew how he was when it came to things of sentimental value—nothing ever lost its touch with him, especially when it came to you.
“Oh, how quickly you dismiss our love. Such a cruel woman you are,” he says, his voice dropping in octave as a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips.
“Cruel?” you repeat with a scoff. “Please.”
“Cruel indeed,” he insists, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back as he lures you closer to him. Perhaps he should have dressed as the vampire with his red, hypnotic eyes and all, but instead, he dressed as a boxer. “Although, I can’t say I dislike the idea of you parading around in my ring. Wards off the men.”
You can’t help snort at that. “Oh, right, because something as trivial as a ring would deter a man from a face as beautiful as this,” you muse, raising your hand to place a few smacks on his cheek. “In your dreams.”
Sylus chuckles at that. He truly should’ve known you and your sharp tongue wouldn’t be able to resist chuckling a few jabs his way. “I see you in my dreams as is, sweetie. I don’t need the sentiment.”
You scoff. “What you need to do is get a grip. I don’t know if you’ve lost your mind, but we are divorced. D-i-v-o-r-c-e-d. Divorced. Do you know what that means?”
That word hardly meant anything to him. He still wore his wedding ring and addressed you as his wife. He did it shamelessly.
“Such nasty words from such a pretty mouth,” he says through a sigh. “And no, I don’t know what that means. Pray tell.”
“It means that we leave each other alone,” you’re quick to reply. “I don’t want you anymore, Sylus.”
Sylus doesn’t like that idea, not one bit. He doesn’t care if he sounds like a broken record, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone. Perhaps he enjoyed pestering you, watching as that cute expression of annoyance etched across your face every time you ran into one another.
“You’re so pretty when you lie,” he murmurs.
You shortly huff. “You’d be prettier if you knew how to shut up.”
Sylus feigns offense, placing his hand over his chest. “You wound me.”
But he does take notice of the fact that you hadn’t denied his words. If anything, it stirs something within him. He isn’t sure what it is exactly, and before he can figure it out, you’re already walking away.
“Sweetie—”
“Don’t call me that,” you reply. His call out to you doesn’t deter you from your path, and before long, you’re already swimming in a sea of men who look like they want to devour you.
Sylus can’t blame them for their incredibly good taste in women, but what he can blame them for is their attraction to his wife.
He tries to obey your wishes, and he leaves you alone for a good… seven and a half minutes. And yes, he’s been counting, because each second that passes where you give another man your undivided attention is a second that he wants cut off from his lifespan.
He does his best, truly, he does. He even sent Luke and Kieran to fetch him a drink. He’s… partying. Yay.
It’s no use, though. Nothing could ever distract him from your presence. Hearing your laugh from across the room is like music to his ears, his favorite song that he cannot bear to part with.
But suddenly, everything shifts.
You’re… holding hands with another man. Not just any hand either.
And when you turn to make eye contact with Sylus, he’s already well on his way to you by the time that bastard’s lips lean in to press a kiss on your left hand, just below his ring.
You’re thrown over his shoulder before you have a say in the matter, and his stiffened arm gets sent into the strange man’s chest. He hadn’t meant to push him very hard, but evidently, his jealousy piqued the moment his hand made contact with him.
“There you are, my gorgeous wife,” he quips, laying a playful smack on your ass.
“Jesus, Sylus! What the—” you exclaim, watching as the man you were talking to falls to the ground.
Before you know it, you’re being carried into the bathroom and spun around, your front facing the mirror while he presses against you from behind.
You really shouldn’t be turned on by this, but you honestly can’t help yourself.
“My, my, sweetie, I knew you were a liar, but I didn’t take you for a whore too,” he says, his voice low and almost rasped. “Nearly allowing another man to kiss the hand I’ve claimed? Tsk tsk.”
You roll your eyes at him, but that only earns you another smack on your ass. It was firmer that time, too.
“You know, you don’t have to have a dick measuring competition with every man I talk to all because of a ring,” you huff, planting your palms on the bathroom counter.
Sylus chuckles at that, his hands sliding over your hips before he splays his palm on the curve of your back, forcefully pushing you over the counter. “Please, you know there isn’t any competition there.”
You hate it when he’s right, and right now, he was definitely correct. You can feel the truth in all of his glory, the outline of his cock pressing against your backside through the fabric of his shorts as he keeps you bent over for him.
You grumble a low, “oh, fuck me,” that you thought went unheard, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.
“I never thought you’d ask,” he says, laying another smack on your reddening ass.
You narrow your eyes at him through the mirror. “You’re an asshole, Sylus.”
He hums, working to bunch your dress up around your hips to give him a nice view of your cherry red asscheek, and God, is it beautiful.
“I’m aware,” he says as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Such pretty panties. You know these are my favorite, you dirty woman.”
Your eyebrows furrow as he disappears from the mirror’s reflection, and before you can think it over, you feel your lace panties be pulled to the side.
Great. Now he knows you’re a wet mess. Just fucking great.
“You really have some nerve,” you scoff, though there’s hardly any bite to your words.
You feel his large hands spread your cheeks apart, and a gasp leaves you when you feel his tongue dart out to swipe along the crack of your ass.
“Oh, absolutely, know I do,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your ass cheek. “The nerve I have.”
He dips his head a bit lower, and you’re honestly left stunned as he licks your pussy from behind. He moans into your cunt, bringing his fingers up to swipe along your sopping slit.
And when you glance over your shoulder, you see him suck his two fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widen in genuine surprise, and a huff of laughter leaves your lips.
“Don’t give me that look, baby,” he preens, giving your ass cheek another open-mouthed kiss before he spins you around. He then taps your thigh. “Lift.”
And you do just that, raising your thigh as he lifts you up onto the bathroom counter from his kneeling position on the floor. He drapes your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your sensitive skin as he does so.
“You know, your mouth says the most horrible things to me, but your pussy seems to say the exact opposite,” he muses, licking his lips as he gazes up at you. “Always so pretty and wet for me. You sure you don’t want to apologi—”
“Nope,” you’re quick to say, sliding your fingers through his white hair as you push his face into your pussy. “Yeah, just shut up. Perfect.”
His words are swallowed up by your heat, but he doesn’t mind it, not one bit. He closes his eyes as he greedily laps at your cunt, tasting the sweetness that he’s missed far too much. It was so sweet, just like you usually were towards him, but it seems like he’ll have to fuck this attitude out of you before he can see that side of you again.
He doesn’t mind that. More of your smart mouth, more of your pussy… win-win.
By the time he opens his eyes to look up at you again, you can already tell that he’s drunk on you.
“God, you’re so easy, it’s disgusting,” you say through a whine as his tongue curls up and down, stimulating that beautiful pearl between your legs.
Sylus chuckles at that, but he doesn’t let up. His tongue begins to fuck into you now, a groan leaving his mouth as he watches you writhe above him. He’s never seen you look any more beautiful.
(The only exception to that was your wedding day, of course. He wept like a baby at the sight of you.)
He sucks harshly into your clit before he releases it with a pop. “I love it when you’re mean to me, baby. Makes me want to fuck you so nice, wipe that smug smile right off your face.”
It was true. His cock was rock solid in the confines of his shorts, and even if he wasn’t eating you out like a madman, he’s sure your words would have led to the same fate. He loved it when you dished it back to him because you were just so sexy when you were angry.
You’re quick to shut him up, pushing his face back into your heat, but this time, you’re fucking yourself on his tongue. He doesn’t mind it at all. If anything, he prefers it, because whatever his wife needs, she gets.
“Yeah,” you pant, your head leaning back against the mirror. “Yeah, stop fucking talking.”
Sylus grins against your heat as you make a mess of him—his nose, his mouth, his chin—everything. But he doesn’t give a damn.
He slurps up your slick, drinking it as if he were stranded in the middle of a blazing desert and your pussy was his only means of survival. Though if he were to be honest, he’d just ask you to sit on his face and suffocate him with this sweet cunt of yours if he ever found himself in that dire of a position.
(He’s already made up his mind—that’s how he wants to go out.)
Soon enough, he grasps firmly onto your hips, preventing you from grinding against his tongue.
“Now you’re just being greedy,” he says through a breathless smile, licking his lips. “Wearing your wedding ring, parading around in this beautifully slutty costume of yours, giving your attention to other men. What has gotten into you?”
You whine as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, but his words give you a much better idea. Your hand is quick to replace his tongue, stimulating your clit while he watches with starry eyes. “Dunno. You can get inside of me right now, though.”
He huffs. “Playing with this pretty pussy right in front of my face? Have some class.”
You can’t help but chuckle out loud, and he smiles at the sound of your laughter but also at the view of your fingers circling that swollen clit of yours.
“You can talk to me about class when you aren’t kneeling in front of your ex-wife’s pussy like a puppy begging for a treat,” you joke.
Sylus hums at that, spitting onto your cunt to give you a bit more lubricant as you play with yourself. Slowly, he rises to his feet.
“I don’t have to beg for this pussy, baby,” he tells you, “It’s mine, after all.”
“Mm, whatever. Me next.”
And when his eyes meet yours, a wicked grin stretches across his face. You stare at him with your mouth open, you tongue lolled out between your lips, begging for him to spit in your mouth.
“You’re filthy,” he rasps, grasping onto your jaw to tilt your head at the perfect angle before he spits into your mouth, watching with hazy eyes as you swallow it. “Absolutely nasty. You’re so beautiful, sweetie.”
His degrading and his praise are a dangerous mixture for you, but you’re loving every second of it. This reminds you of the good times you two shared, and you feel a surge of nostalgia wash over you.
Sylus taps the sides of your thighs, and you wrap them around his waist without question. He lifts you up from the bathroom counter, pressing you against the wall to allow himself better access to you.
His lips find your neck, and a string of mewls and sighs leave your lips as he works to free himself from the confines of his shorts. And when you feel the tip of his cock smear pre-cum along your slit, you honestly feel like you’re really in for it now.
Your smart tongue has gotten you here, and you aren’t sure if you should thank it or curse it. But when you feel the tip of his thick cock begin to prod your entrance, your answer is made clear.
You claw at his back through his shirt, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. “Sylus, wait— I… go slow please,” you stammer out.
It has been awhile, and you weren’t exactly used to his size anymore. He gives you a nod of understanding, his eyes softening as he looks at you.
“Of course, baby, I hear you,” he whispers, his voice suddenly much gentler. He hooks an arm beneath you as a means of holding you up while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to do this, honey. I don’t want to see you in pain.”
You shake your head, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “No, no… I want to. Just… slowly please.”
Sylus nods his head, pressing a sweet peck on your cheek as he slowly begins to push his cock deeper inside of you, keeping his eyes on your face to read your expression.
“I’m okay,” you say, answering the question that you know is swirling in his head right now.
He was a stretch, but it wasn’t too bad. And now as he slowly begins to build up a pace of thrusting inside of you, you’re feeling pleasure above anything.
He leans in to press another sweet kiss on your lips before he quickly returns to being the same asshole he was before, his smirk returning as he fucks you against the wall.
“You’re awfully bratty for someone who can hardly take my cock,” he purrs, trailing his lips along your jawline as he thrusts himself even harder inside of you.
The sound of slapping skin and your shared breathy moans engulf the room, and it’s the most lewd and beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.
“I can take it, you asshole,” you grumble, tugging on his hair as his length reaches a particular sensitive point of your walls.
He chuckles against your neck, drawing his tongue out to taste your skin. “Mm, I know, baby. You take it so nicely. Just giving you a hard time.”
You sigh, leaning your head back against the wall, only for one of his large hands to cup the back of your head. You thought it was sweet how he was bracing you from the impact of how hard he was slamming your body against the wall with each thrust.
You mewl as you feel the heat in your belly pooling, your glassy eyes staring at the reflection of you two in the mirror, watching with blown eyes as he fucks you into oblivion.
He buries his length into you, keeping you pressed against the wall that way while your leg lock around his hips keeps you stable. He grasps onto your left hand, pressing a kiss on your ring.
“Do me a favor, baby,” he whispers, brushing his thumb over the jewelry. “Never take this off again.”
And within seconds, you’re nodding. “I won’t.”
Sylus chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek as he begins to thrust inside of you again. “Who’s the easy one now, sweetie?”
This wasn’t how you expected your Halloween night to go, being fucked by your ex-husband in the bathroom of a party.
Well… this is what you get for being so sexy, you figure.
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note. i was too lazy to think of some more banter between sylus and reader so i decided to give y’all the traditional ‘fade to black’… in the most untraditional sense. anyway!!! i tried something new with this and i’m not sure if it’s working for not so pls interact if you enjoyed! ik it was kinda nasty at some parts but hey… i had to do it to em. :3 TY FOR READING!!!
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whizzing-fizzbee · 10 days ago
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Show Me What Love Is
(Sequel to "This Is How It Starts")
Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)
Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (shameless smut, profanity), all characters are 18+ Words: 7,356 Themes: friends to lovers, shameless smut, fluff and smut
Summary: In the weeks after your breakup with Andrew Larson, you and Sebastian Sallow waste no time making up for lost time. But it's impossible to study for your N.E.W.T.s when you can't keep your hands off each other.
Notes: I had so much fun writing "This Is How It Starts," I needed to write a continuation. I recommend reading that first. Just more shameless smut. Loosely inspired by "Happiness" by The 1975.
I promise to ease up on the shameless smutty one-shots and focus on my chapter fics now. I'm probably lying.
Read on AO3 or below the cut.
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“I heard she dumped Larson because he’s a virgin.”
“No, I heard it was because he didn’t quite… measure up to Sallow, if you know what I mean.”
“Wait, I thought she was hooking up with Gaunt now.”
A snort escaped before you could suppress it. If the rumors hadn’t been so ridiculous, you may have found them insufferable. Instead, you and Sebastian Sallow were currently cozied up in a secluded corner of the library, where you – and your classmates – were supposed to be studying.
Sebastian clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter as he fought to conceal his own. He had you pinned against the bookshelves, his body pressing yours against the rows of wood and bound pages as you struggled to remain quiet. Shielded by bookshelves, the two of you had decided to postpone your study session for a quick snog.
It had been two weeks since your breakup with Andrew Larson, and the Hogwarts rumor mill was still churning. Given that you didn’t hide your new romance with Sebastian, whispers spread like wildfire through the castle walls. And while you weren’t particularly happy about them, you didn’t really care.
Because for the first time in months, you were satisfied. My god were you satisfied. 
You and Sebastian had wasted no time making up for lost time. Your relationship with him fulfilled you in ways Andrew couldn’t have even considered, physically and emotionally. 
Despite all the sex you and Sebastian were having, your bond had strengthened and you found yourselves falling easily into the routine of a seasoned couple. Sure, the early stages of any romance were always more fiery, more passionate, more electrifying, but the two of you seemed to have cemented yourselves in each other’s hearts for the long run. 
With both of your feelings out and in the open, there were no more secrets or unspoken words. You and Sebastian were simpatico; two people who were content in simply spending time together – though most of that time was spent in various states of undress, engaged in salacious activities.
As your giggles subsided, Sebastian smirked, dipping his head to kiss your neck. He smelled like the cinnamon you’d watched him sprinkle in his tea that morning. The sensation of his lips pressed against your skin drew a moan from your lips.
You froze, your wide-eyed gaze shifting sideways toward the end of the aisle as you and Sebastian held your breaths. When no one seemed to have overheard your indiscretion, Sebastian shot you an amused smirk.
“You’re going to have to learn to be much quieter if we’re going to stay here,” he murmured.
“It’s not my fault!” you hissed. “You know my neck is a sensitive spot.”
“Precisely why I did it.”
“You’re cruel.”
“You’re not complaining.”
“I’ll burn your house down.”
Sebastian breathed a soft chuckle. “No need for such violence,” he hummed before he pecked an affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Besides, it’ll be your house too someday.”
Sebastian spoke of your future with such certainty, it was both thrilling and dizzying. You had no doubt he was the only person you’d ever want to spend your life with. You knew that long before the first time he touched you or told you he loved you. The two of you had far too much history, and now that you knew one another sexually, you had ruined your futures with anyone else for life. 
Now, Sebastian referred to himself as “We” – as in the two of you, a couple. His plans for graduation, your careers, your home, were your plans now. His future was your future and he wasn’t shy about letting others know.
But you still had three weeks remaining as Hogwarts students. Your N.E.W.T.s were set to begin the following day, which was the only reason you were standing in the library instead of romping around in bed like you’d done the previous night.
You knew your romance with Sebastian wouldn’t be perfect forever. Neither of you were perfect, and you certainly didn’t expect your relationship to remain that way. Sebastian could be impulsive, stubborn and downright stupid when it came to making decisions. You were snarky, ambitious and strong-willed. Your past friendship together was all the proof you needed that the two of you would inevitably have fights and shouting matches. But it was also proof that the two of you could overcome anything – especially if it meant the make-up sex would make it all worthwhile.
Yet as satisfied as you were, you were still insatiable. You couldn’t get enough of Sebastian, even though he’d been your best friend for nearly three years. But you were his girlfriend now, and that made you see him in an entirely different light.
You were his first real girlfriend. He’d never bothered to craft much connection or meaning to any of the girls he’d hooked up with in the past. You had always chalked it up to his short attention span and impulsive ways. You hadn’t known it was because he’d been waiting for you.
Today though, he was clearly tired of waiting. You’d spent the morning with your noses buried in books, seated at one of the long tables at the center of the library, until you felt Sebastian’s attention vacate his Astronomy notes. His stare fell on you; the way you softly sighed while you contemplated the spell theories in your book; the way you subconsciously chewed your bottom lip as you scribbled in your notes; the way the hem of your skirt creeped upward when you crossed your legs. 
He looked at you like you were the last piece of dessert he’d ever get to consume. He’d always looked at you like that, but you failed to notice until now. Only recently had you come to learn just how much power you held over Sebastian Sallow.
Now, you’d seen the way he whimpers at your touch; the way he grits his teeth and clenches his fists whenever you climax around him; the way his chest heaves when he watches you undress. But you also had seen the way he beams when he makes you laugh with a lewd joke; the way he always pours your morning tea before his own; the way he lets you steal all the blankets and covers at night, only to smile at you with sleepy eyes the following morning. You’d ruined Sebastian Sallow far more than either of you thought possible.
But now Sebastian had you pressed against those bookshelves, his hips guarding you from daring to move. He stood with one foot between yours as he leaned into a deep, slow kiss, the top of his thigh pressing against the apex of your thighs. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, tightening with impatience. 
“Careful, darling,” he murmured. “You’ve already ruined two of my shirts.”
“I’ll ruin your life if you don’t fuck me already.”
He didn’t bother to bury his laugh this time. It erupted from his throat and echoed through the aisle, sure to draw attention this time. The two of you swapped a glance and Sebastian shrugged. He brandished his wand from his back pocket as he held your gaze, and with a fluid wave, cast a Disillusionment charm.
You quickly did the same, disappearing against the rows of books such as Sophronia Franklin came curiously wandering into the aisle. Once she was gone, you caught the glimmer of Sebastian’s outline moving toward the Restricted Section. You followed him quietly through the gate and down the stairs, a route you could navigate with your eyes closed after three years of illicit exploits.
Once you reached the storage room at the bottom, you and Sebastian shed your charms and hurried toward a desk that had been shoved against a wall. Without a word, you backed Sebastian into the desk and clung to his shoulders as you kissed him. His hands snapped to your waist, the melt of your curves triggering his arousal.
He groaned as you stepped closer, your hip pressing against his front to facilitate his erection. You were certain you’d never grow tired of the power you felt every time you made Sebastian’s best asset stand at attention.
You palmed his erection over his pants, dragging your fingers across his hard length. He hummed at the friction, his heavy panting exposing his anticipation.
Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper before you shoved his pants and boxers to the floor in a heap, his cock springing from their confines. You took it in one hand, your fingers circling around the shaft while you swiped a thumb across the tip. Sebastian twitched at the touch.
You watched him with glee, drunk on the way his jaw clenched and breath hitched. It was the most fun you’d had in ages. He couldn’t help but smile at your proud expression, a sign he was also aware of the power held.
“You’re evil, you know that?” he murmured. 
“You made me this way.” 
You pumped him steadily, his breaths increasing with your pace as he leaned backward against the desk. You tore your gaze from his blissful expression to examine his cock in your hands, the tip glistening with his arousal.
Dropping to a crouch, you guided him into your mouth, your hands gripping the backs of his thighs as you relaxed your jaw. Sebastian balled your hair into his fist as he gazed downward to admire you as you worked.
“I love you so goddamn much,” he growled. 
You hummed a reply that sent vibrations around his cock, forcing a groan from him. His tip hit the back of your throat and you squeezed your own thumbs into your palms as you held him there for as long as you could stand it.
When your throat released him, you sucked your cheeks in hard as your lips returned to stroking his shaft. The storage room echoed with the sounds of your sins, punctuated by Sebastian’s grunts and moans. His reactions to your hungry mouth piqued your own arousal, your knees parted as you remained in a squat. 
You couldn't help but drop one hand between your own legs, your fingers coating themselves from the pool that had gathered at your entrance. You dipped a finger inside yourself, the warmth of your own core a stark contrast to the cool air of the dark storage room. 
You used your own fingers to dig at your ache, though they didn’t feel nearly as good as Sebastian’s. You willed yourself to remain patient as you focused on his pleasure, knowing damn well he’d never fail to return the favor.
You removed your soaked fingers and used that same hand to stroke Sebastian’s cock, the new moisture earning a groan from him. The sight of it all – his cock covered in a cocktail of your arousal and spit – was overwhelming.
He dipped his head backward, his eyes squeezed shut as he tugged your hair tighter. You’d come to learn that as a sign he was losing control.
You replaced your hand with your mouth, the taste of yourself spreading over the flesh of his length as you flattened your tongue against Sebastian’s shaft. It dragged up and over the tip, tracing teasing circles around the head. 
Sebastian panted harder, his lungs laboring as he dared to open his eyes again. You met them with your own gaze, your eyes watching him with wonder and lust. The vision of your doe-eyed stare and his cock disappearing into your mouth made him whimper, a sound that made your own core throb. 
You flicked your tongue and Sebastian tensed. Your hollowed cheeks began to sting, but you quickened your pace, your nails digging into the backs of his thighs as you relaxed your throat to gurgle around his tip at a frenetic rate.
A sharp, sudden pain seared over your scalp as Sebastian lost control, his fist yanking your hair and his hips thrusting forward as he finished. His climax hit the back of your throat, thick and hot, as your head continued to bob in determination to drain him completely. He grunted as his orgasm subsided, his sensitive cock twitching the remnants of his seed over your tongue.
His cock fell from your mouth as you swallowed, one hand still pressed into the back of his thigh while he caught his breath. Meanwhile, your anticipation seeped from your entrance, soaking through your panties. 
You sank to your knees, tired from your performance and aching for your own relief. You glanced upward at Sebastian, who gazed at you affectionately through heavy eyelids. He extended a hand to you to help you to your feet. You rose slowly, the motion crafting more pressure within your core.
Sebastian pulled you into a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand ventured between your thighs as he reveled in the wet warmth surrounding his fingers. He pushed you up onto the desk, your legs dangling from the edge as he stood between them and paused to kiss you again.
“Naughty naughty, you’ll get caughty!”
You gasped at the sudden intrusion as Sebastian spun to look for the source.
“Peeves!”
The poltergeist hovered in the doorway, laughing as he took in the scene. You straightened and slid off the desk, smoothing your clothes in an attempt to salvage some dignity while Sebastian hurriedly pulled his pants up.
“Wicked little seventh years, how shameful you are!” Peeves declared, though his eyes appeared to be laughing. 
“Get out, you perverse fucking voyeur!” Sebastian snapped. Peeves cackled. 
“Peeves knows this isn't the first time Sebastian Sallow has defiled the Restricted Section. Peeves will miss all this fun once the naughty seventh years graduate! Consider this secret his parting gift!”
He disappeared through the wall, his cackles echoing through the stone. Sebastian uttered a groan of disgust while your heart rate recovered from the abrupt imposition.
You heaved a sigh when Peeves’ laughter had faded. “Well, I suppose we’d better get back up there in case he actually sends someone to check,” you said. Sebastian was clearly still annoyed, but flashed you an apologetic grin.
“Sorry, darling,” he said as he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
You held him to that promise as soon as you could.
---
Two days later, you and Sebastian relocated your study spot to a place that was much more private. The library was packed with students that day, including your ex-boyfriend who glared daggers at you the moment you walked in.
You felt bad for the way things ended with Andrew. He wasn’t a bad person but he’d been a bad boyfriend. He neglected you, dismissed your wants and needs and didn’t take you seriously. Still, he probably didn’t deserve the scene you caused when you broke up with him – not that it had been your idea. 
You had wanted to end the relationship quietly, but Sebastian practically skipped into the library with you on his arm minutes after you’d been moaning his name in the Room of Requirement. The two of you found Andrew sitting at that same study table and Sebastian marched you right up to him, where you told him the two of you were over. Then Sebastian paraded you into the Great Hall, you still wearing his sweater, where he didn’t bother to hide his affection for you during dinner. Afterward, you dragged him to the Undercroft for another round.
Sebastian found it hilarious when Andrew glowered at you in the library again, but you steered him back into the Central Hall to avoid any confrontation. You really did need to study that day. Your History of Magic exam was scheduled for the following morning and you were one of the many students who hadn’t paid much attention during class for the duration of the term.
But Ominis had banished you and Sebastian from the Undercroft for the week after he discovered the two of you in an obscene position the previous day. 
“The Undercroft ?” he had uttered in disbelief. “Is nothing sacred anymore?”
So today, you and Sebastian sat in the Room of Requirement, your stacks of spellbooks and scrolls scattered over a study table.
Sebastian had lost concentration ages ago. He twirled his wand in one hand while he watched you study. You’d already scolded him twice for being disruptive, and despite his mounting boredom, he knew your exams were important so he did his best to keep quiet.
After three hours of painfully mundane reading, you sighed and sat back in your chair, your eyes tired from straining over your textbooks.
“Ready for a break?” Sebastian asked eagerly. Your gaze drifted over his notes and you snorted as you studied the doodles and drawings he’d made on the edges of the parchment.
“Is that… Ominis?” you asked, squinting at one of the doodles.
“Riding a dragon, yes.”
You laughed and fiddled with your wand, appreciative of the comic relief. But Sebastian’s gaze had shifted and you immediately recognized the way his eyes were darkening with desire. They drifted to your chest, but you crossed your arms to obstruct his view.
“Sebastian…” you warned. “We need to study.”
“We’ve been studying!” he whined. “For three hours. Surely you could use a break. Wasn’t this the exact thing you were anguishing over just weeks ago with Larson?”
“Andrew went weeks without touching me,” you pointed out. “I just fucked you yesterday.”
“Feels like it’s been weeks.”
You rolled your eyes but crossed your legs beneath the table. You, too, were antsy with arousal, but were determined to assert your self-control this time. You’d given in to Sebastian every time until now – not that you’d needed any persuading. 
Sebastian leaned closer to you, his hand skimming the top of your knee beneath the table. He was challenging you. He knew your resistance was thin. But he didn’t know you were intent on affirming your power.
His thumb began tracing tiny circles against your thigh and you clenched your jaw. He seemed to notice the twitch in your facial expression because his puppy dog eyes lit up with amusement. Slowly, his hand snaked toward your entrance until two fingers gently brushed over the smooth fabric of your panties.
You fought to maintain a stoic expression, even as a finger pressed into your clit, but a hitch in your breath betrayed you. Sebastian smirked.
“No!” you said firmly as you snapped your knees together to force Sebastian’s hand away. “Sebastian, I want to study.”
“Judging from how wet you are, darling, I don’t think I believe you.”
You huffed an exhausted puff of air. “Okay, so maybe I don’t want to study, but I need to.”
“Do you need it as much as you need to come right now?”
Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you folded your arms in firm denial. “We can address that later,” you said, praying the pitch of your voice wouldn’t expose the filthy thoughts circulating inside your head.
But per usual, Sebastian saw right through you. He lounged backward in his chair, his legs stretched out as he continued to smirk. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that, darling?”
You scowled at him in annoyance and rose to your feet. A book in one hand and your wand in the other, you strode to the sofa that sat six feet away. Sebastian moved as if he were going to follow you, but you pointed your wand at him.
“Hey now! Watch where you point that thing!”
In one fluid flick, your wand emitted a milky haze of dancing white light. You cast a faint glowing line through the air between the table and the sofa until it stretched the entire length of the room. It glimmered and danced as you reached toward it with one palm open. Your hand recoiled against it, confirming that your barrier charm had worked.
Sebastian’s mouth fell open in protest.
“There,” you said indignantly. “Now there will be no temptations.”
“And just how do you expect to leave?” Sebastian demanded.
“The barrier should only last an hour or so, maybe even less. I think we’ll survive.”
Sebastian pouted in his chair as you settled onto the sofa with your book in your lap. You tucked your legs beneath yourself and continued your reading about the Warlocks' Convention of 1709.
In hindsight, choosing the most dreadfully boring subject to study while your boyfriend stared at you with bedroom eyes was probably a poor decision. Soon, your eyes glazed over and you realized you’d read the same page three times with no memory of its contents.
You looked up and were unsurprised to find Sebastian watching you. He quirked an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes in an attempt to feign disinterest. But you couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye.
He looked so damn good that day. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and his hair was particularly messy from waking up late that morning. You imagined those strong arms lifting you onto that study table, where you’d sprawl out as he stood and fucked you.
The image lingered in your head for just a moment too long, and you knew you were a goner.
“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, annoyed at Sebastian for trying to rile you up. He’d succeeded but now, you both were paying for it. It made you want to strangle him – as soon as you were done riding him into the ground.
But now that stupid barrier lingered between you, and there was no possible way you could wait for it to fall. You could already feel the swell mounting within your core. It made you shift on the sofa, the movement heightening the sensitivity between your legs.
The usual cool of the Room of Requirement felt suffocating. Your cheeks were starting to flush and you knew studying was a lost cause. As you stole another glance at Sebastian, who still lounged quietly in his chair with his legs stretched, you decided the least you could do was have some fun with your situation. Maybe next time, he’d think twice before distracting you – and for trying to challenge you.
You heaved a dramatic, audible sigh as you snapped your book shut. It went forgotten on the sofa next to you as you ran a slow, deliberate hand over your neck.
Sebastian watched you in guarded silence. Slowly, you began to unbutton your blouse, your fingers working carefully as you exposed more and more of your chest.
Sebastian straightened in his chair, sitting upright with his hands on his knees. “What the hell are you doing?” he growled. Your only reply was a silent, fleeting glance and a sinister smile.
Your blouse fell open and your legs followed suit. The hem of your skirt guarded your core, so you slowly hiked it up, pulling it backward to expose what lay beneath.
Sebastian already knew what was waiting. Your soaked panties covered your entrance. He let out a sharp exhale at the sight, his hands gripping his kneecaps as you ran a hand from your neck downward, dragging over one breast and across your stomach until it found the fabric protecting your cunt. Your legs opened wider. 
You gently ran a finger over your slit, the friction from the fabric provoking a low moan. You dared to look at Sebastian, who was looking positively distraught over the sight before him. 
Good.
You continued to rub your clothed entrance with two fingers until you decided your panties had become too restrictive. As Sebastian’s stare remained locked between your legs, you teased him by running a finger along the edge of the fabric.
“Please,” he rasped. You tugged your panties to the side. You could hear him whimper.
One finger dipped quickly inside your swollen cunt, the moisture coating it immediately. You pulled it out and your arousal glistened over your fingers. You used the moisture to coat your clit, your fingers gliding over the little bundle of nerves until the absence of something inside you was overwhelming.
You dabbed two fingers inside yourself and moaned as your walls clenched desperately around them. As you worked your own core, you sank lower into the sofa, your legs spread wide and your teeth tugging at your bottom lip.
Sebastian dropped his head backward for a moment, his face contorted in absolute anguish as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. It almost appeared as if he was in pain.
The sounds of you fucking yourself echoed, exposing your act to the poor portraits lining the walls. Your moans filled the room. You dug desperately inside yourself, your fingers beckoning and coaxing a release, the cadence of your breathy moans reflecting your nearing climax.
Sebastian’s hands were gripping the seat of his chair, his knuckles bright white as he watched. You almost felt sorry for him. Almost .
He swiped at his face with his hand, as if he were trying to stifle another whimper. The peak in his pants looked positively painful. You couldn’t help but feel impressed that he had managed to refrain from any attempts to relieve his own arousal. 
But your dripping need was more important. Finally, your eyes fell shut and you had to picture Sebastian’s face as you became too immersed in the heat that was coursing between your legs.
“Mmm, I’m going to come, Seb,” you managed to whine. He swore under his breath.
With your eyes squeezed shut and your walls squeezed even tighter, your fingers drove at your sweet spot and your palm dragged against your clit. You moved with vigor despite your tiring arm. 
Finally, you knew you were close. You wanted to sneak one more glance at Sebastian. You knew he was positively reeling. But you were feeling too selfish and too needy; your release was too demanding.
So instead, you moaned his name. It was followed with a grating cry that had formed deep in your throat. You came so hard, it felt like your walls were pounding around your fingers. You held them in place, clutching at yourself as you tried to prolong the sensation.
When it finally subsided, your heart was still pounding and your eyes peeled open. The room took a moment to fall into focus, but through the haze, you could see Sebastian’s form. 
He slumped in his chair, shoulders forward and knees bent. He looked positively miserable, as if he’d been dragged through absolute hell. 
“Sebastian?”
“Yeah?”
“You alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you… do you want to… take your turn?”
“No. I… don’t need to.”
Your eyes fell to his lap. “Oh.”
Now, you were feeling torn between guilt and pride; remorseful for making your poor boyfriend sit through such a sinful act; proud of the clear power you held over him. But this was his fault. You were perfectly content on studying until he decided to exhibit such feral behavior. You were simply matching his conduct. And now you knew you could make him come without even touching him.
But you were also physically spent. The magic barrier continued to glimmer across the room as you redressed yourself. Sebastian watched you quietly, his expression sedated and sleepy.
You nearly laughed as you realized he looked more spent than you did. But even the relief you had given yourself could never match the absolute euphoria of Sebastian’s touch. You already found yourself wanting it as soon as possible.
With time to spare as you waited for the barrier to fade, you tried to return to your reading. But now, your prior tension was replaced with a sluggish post-orgasm haze that made you drowsy. So instead, you curled up on the sofa with your head on the arm rest, asleep within minutes.
A gentle nudge pulled you from your nap. You sat up to find Sebastian lounging on the sofa next to you. 
“Seb?”
“Hey, darling.”
“How long was I asleep?”
Sebastian consulted his pocket watch. “Little over two hours.”
“Two hours ? Why did you let me sleep that long?”
“You looked like you needed it. Especially after that grand… performance you put on.”
Your cheeks flushed and you noticed Sebastian was wearing a new pair of trousers. “Did you… where did-”
“I went back to my dorm to change,” Sebastian explained. His cool, calm demeanor caught you off guard. You had been certain he’d be eager to ravish – or punish – you for your earlier antics. “Dinner’s going to start soon. You hungry?”
“I should be studying,” you groaned as you realized you had wasted an entire afternoon. The History of Magic exam was tomorrow.
“I’ll tell you what, love. How about we go grab some dinner and then you can study in peace and quiet. I’ll use the time to visit Anne,” Sebastian offered.
You blinked at him, your suspicion raised instantly. “Visit Anne,” you repeated blankly.
“Yes, Anne. You know, my sister?”
Something didn’t feel right. You knew Sebastian. You’d spent the past two weeks attached at the hip – literally and figuratively – and you couldn’t believe he’d be willing to spend the evening apart so willingly.
“You’re not going to punish me?” you asked stupidly. “For earlier?”
Sebastian barked a laugh. “What for, darling? How could I possibly be upset about having such an independent girlfriend?”
“Independent?”
“Yes, independent. Clearly you can take care of yourself. You don’t need me.”
Ah, there it was. His gameplay. You knew he wouldn’t let you off the hook. He was going to withhold sex from you as punishment. He’d seen how you agonized when Andrew had denied you for weeks, but he knew this would be much worse. You liked Andrew but you loved Sebastian. You’d spent the past two weeks absolutely enamored by the way he ruined you. 
This would become a game; a contest to see who could pretend to care less. And you’d give it your best performing act. Because you knew Sebastian, too. He was merely a man; a man who couldn’t contain himself at the mere sight of you falling apart hours earlier. 
So instead of protesting, you flashed him your prettiest smile and draped your arms around him in a hug, feigning gratitude for a night off.
Your gratitude was short-lived. You went to bed alone that night, tired after an evening of actual studying in the Room of Requirement by yourself. But by midnight, you were tossing and turning in distress over the excruciating ache that had returned between your legs.
Sebastian sauntered into the Great Hall the next morning and pressed a kiss to your temple as he slid into the seat next to you.
“Get all your studying done?” he asked casually.
“I know more about the outlawing of dragon breeding than I know the back of my hand,” you sighed. “How’s Anne?”
“She’s good,” Sebastian answered as he heaped a pile of eggs onto his plate. “I, uh… told her about us.”
You froze mid-bite into a slice of pineapple. “You did?”
“Relax,” Sebastian chuckled. “She’s thrilled for us. I knew she would be. She claims she knew all along that we’d end up together.”
You spent the remainder of breakfast quizzing each other for your exams, but beneath the table, you squirmed, annoyed that Sebastian had managed to appear so nonchalant over your lack of intimacy the previous night. What you didn’t know was that he’d spent the later hours of the evening relieving himself – twice – at the memory of what you’d done in the Room of Requirement.
The day’s exams didn’t end until late afternoon, meaning you didn’t see Sebastian again until dinner. You were dissecting the answers to the Arithmancy exam with Imelda Reyes when Sebastian appeared, lowering himself across from you.
“Survive that Muggle Studies exam, Sallow?” Imelda asked. 
“Easily,” Sebastian answered as he shifted his gaze to you.
“How was History of Magic?” he asked.
“Dreadful, but I think I aced it,” you answered.
“That’s my girl.”
Imelda rolled her eyes and redirected the conversation to her upcoming tryout with the Montrose Magpies. 
You listened to the details, genuinely happy your friend was close to securing her dream, but you couldn’t avert your eyes from Sebastian who was watching you quietly. When your eyes locked, he reached for an apple from the bowl on the table.
You narrowed your eyes in a silent quizzical stare as Imelda rambled on, her voice fading to a background hum as Sebastian took a slow and deliberate bite from the apple. His jaw closed and you could practically hear him sucking the juice from the apple’s skin. He chewed carefully and swallowed before he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes still on yours.
Your hips shifted in your seat. Sebastian noticed and smirked. 
You spent the remainder of the meal pretending Imelda’s quidditch tryout was the most fascinating thing you’d ever heard.
Students spent that evening enjoying the extended curfew that only came during exam week. Many lingered in the Great Hall while others scattered across the school grounds to take advantage of the warm evening. The rest retreated to the library to continue their studying.
You, however, didn’t make it down the steps to the Viaduct Courtyard before Sebastian was steering you toward the dungeons.
You greeted the few familiar faces in the Slytherin Common Room until Sebastian impatiently prodded you with his knee. After ascending the steps to the boys’ dormitories, he ushered you inside his room and kicked the door shut. The room was empty, his roommates likely out enjoying the evening, and you couldn’t wait to enjoy yours.
“Thought you were going to make me wait,” you teased as you slid yourself backward onto the bed, your legs dangling off the side.
“That was me making you wait,” Sebastian growled. You snorted.
“Seb, that was one day,” you noted.
“And that was more than enough.”
His admission that he couldn’t bear more than one day without burying himself inside you was exhilarating.
Sebastian all but dove for you, his hands clawing at your shoes and tights. Your skirt and panties followed until only your blouse and bra remained. 
Sebastian groaned at the sight of your entrance, which was already slick with anticipation. His arms hooked around your legs, yanking you to the edge of the bed.
“You’ve been fucking killing me,” he whined as he lowered himself between your legs.
A low, slow sigh left your lips the moment his tongue made contact with your entrance. He lapped at you in so much earnest, you could feel his breaths against your swollen skin.
He planted a kiss to your clit before a finger teased your folds. Your hips rocked in agony, your cunt desperate to swallow any part of Sebastian he’d allow. 
Two fingers sank into you and you instantly scolded yourself for thinking your own hands were worth a damn while in the Room of Requirement the previous day. Nothing felt as good as Sebastian. 
You moaned as you stretched around his fingers, your wet arousal making him hiss. 
“Fucking hell.”
He pulled his hand away and you whimpered in protest, though your frustration was short-lived as you watched him suck his fingers. It was an erotic vision that made your nipples harden.
“Better than any stupid apple,” he murmured. And his mouth returned to you again.
Fists balled the bed covers in your hands as your back sank deeper into the bed while you lifted your hips and gasped for more; more pressure, more relief, more Sebastian. His tongue teased your clit until his entire mouth was around your entrance, sucking at your flesh.
“Fuck, Seb. I’m so close.”
You could feel his tongue flatten over your clit in brisk swipes. The sound that vibrated from your throat was more of a pulsing hum than a moan as your eyes clamped shut, your focus drilled on the edge of your looming orgasm.
“Seb, I’m going to c-”
And then, silence. The pressure and heat was gone in an instant and your eyes shot open. Sebastian loomed over you, his glistening lips parted in a smug grin.
It was infuriating. You were splayed out, exposed and vulnerable, and your boyfriend had the audacity to tease and torture you. You wanted to curse him, hex him and pummel him with your fists.
But the best you could manage was a sharp, pained whine. And Sebastian, that cruel, conniving prick, responded with a short and maniacal laugh.
You glared, your cheeks flushed and your entrance seeping, determined to get your release. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d just have to be an independent woman.
Your hand snapped to your entrance, fingers working frantically. It caught Sebastian off guard and he moved quickly to pin your hands to the bed above your head. You kicked your feet and he forced himself on top of you, more weight pushing your wrists downward into the mattress.
“Not yet,” he growled. “You’re going to wait for me. Understand?” You nodded in compliance. 
Sebastian didn’t speak as he returned to his feet. You watched with dark eyes as he reached for his belt, the buckle clinking softly as it released. His pants dropped to the floor, followed by his boxers. He slid his shirt overhead and stepped out of the heap of clothes on the floor, his erection bobbing as he moved.
He crawled over you again, one of his knees deliberately placed between your thighs, inches from your entrance. One hand worked slowly at the buttons of your blouse, addressing them one-by-one until your chest was exposed. 
That same hand snaked its way beneath you, fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra until it snapped apart, your breasts falling from its hold. Sebastian helped you from your shirt and bra, leaving you completely bare beneath him.
“So fucking perfect,” he said. You shifted miserably beneath him. 
He lowered his mouth to your right breast, his tongue tracing slowly over your nipple. The bed creaked as his knee shifted closer, pressing itself against your cunt. You whimpered, certain that your body was going to catch fire.
Sebastian cupped your breast, pressing a trail of kisses to your neck where you could feel him smiling into your skin. His knee twitched and he snorted against the crook of your neck.
“You are so fucking wet,” he laughed. 
You narrowed your eyes in ire, but the pressure of skin against your entrance was intoxicating. You couldn’t help yourself. You bucked your hips, grinding your folds against Sebastian’s leg.
He looked ecstatic. 
“And I thought I was a pathetic mess in the Room of Requirement yesterday,” he mused as he gazed down at you. “But look at you, trying to fall apart against my fucking leg .”
If it hadn’t been for the students lounging in the Common Room below, you would have screamed. Or murdered him.
Sebastian pulled away to stand over you, the cool room coursing over your skin without his warmth.
“You know,” Sebastian murmured. “All you have to do is ask nicely.”
“Please,” you breathed. Your chest heaved and your hips rocked against nothing. It was shameful but you were void of any dignity now.
“That’s better.” You couldn’t help but pout at him and he grinned. “You know, darling, I don’t like making you wait either. My self-restraint has been hanging by a thread all day.”
“Then stop making me wait,” you growled. “ Please .”
Hearing you beg with authority was his final undoing. Sebastian liked to dominate you, but he liked your fiery attitude even more. It was what made him fall so stupidly in love with you in the first place. 
He pushed your legs apart and stood between them, his eyes drinking in the way your body was laid out for him, your breasts bouncing with every movement. 
The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you moaned in relief as you felt it settle inside you, pushing and stretching you until you were filled.
“I have to say,” Sebastian panted as he paused to allow your walls to adjust to his size. “I quite like the view from up here. Can’t wait to watch you fall apart beneath me.”
“Then hurry the fuck up,” you hissed. Sebastian beamed at you.
He started slow, pulling his cock until the head lingered near the folds of your entrance before he rocked his hips forward, sinking into you until he was fully sheathed again. His plan had been to tease you like this for quite some time, with leisurely, deliberate strokes slow enough that you’d feel every inch of his cock parting your walls. But reality was quite sobering. Soon, Sebastian’s restraint shattered and he was pumping into you at a short, steady pace, his eyes glued to the spot where you were connected. 
“My god,” he choked. The view of your cunt swallowing his length repeatedly turned his brain to mush, but nothing had prepared him for the sight of your wet arousal coating his shaft.
Your moans filled the room, your hands gripping and squeezing your nipples. Sebastian grunted at the sight of you playing with your own breasts, an erotic vision straight from years of his fantasies. 
“God, you take me so well,” he moaned, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled your body into his thrusts.
You were teetering on the edge of ruin, your nerves heightened from the edging Sebastian had given you with his tongue moments ago. He reached down to trace circles over your clit, the extra source of sensation pushing you through the threshold.
“Sebastian!” The cry of his name preceded a sharp gasp as the swelling wave inside you crashed. Your toes curled and your back arched as your walls spasmed and grasped around Sebastian’s cock. 
Sebastian pressed the tip of his cock hard into your sweet spot, coaxing more moisture that dripped down his length while you orgasmed. He held it there until you were done crumbling around him.
“You’re fucking perfect when you come,” Sebastian croaked. He reached for your ankles and pulled them together, lifting them into the air to rest against his shoulder.
He regained a steady rhythm of thrusts, the new position squeezing your tight heat around him. His cock drove upward, drilling hard until you were certain you were too sensitive to handle him.
Sebastian’s grip tightened around your ankles, his thrusts falling out of sync as he began to unravel. The smacking sound reverberated off the walls. But you were too selfish to allow him to quit just yet.
“Seb, I’m close,” you moaned.
Sebastian grunted. “Going to come for me again so soon?” he managed.
“Yes, please. Please .”
His jaw was clenched so tight you feared it would crack, but his cock pounded your cunt harder. The pitch of your moans drifted higher and higher until the peak of the noise matched the peak inside your core. 
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Sebastian coughed just as your final orgasm tore through your insides. You came so hard, you arched off the bed, your ankles digging downward into Sebastian’s shoulder as you cried out. His knees would have buckled beneath the force if he hadn’t tensed from his own climax, his body going rigid as his cock twitched. He groaned through the sensation until he used your leg to pull your body flush against himself with one final slam, spurting his release inside you.
He remained there, though he was barely able to stand as you wondered if your skeleton had vacated your body. 
“Fucking hell,” Sebastian panted. “Let’s never go that long without each other again.”
“Agreed,” you murmured.
And before you could move apart, the dormitory door swung open and Ominis strode in. He froze dead in his tracks, the tip of his wand glowing vibrant red as he analyzed the scene before him.
“Are you two fucking serious?!”
178 notes · View notes
roguelov · 1 year ago
Text
Sleepless Night
Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first
Word Count: ~ 4k
Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)
Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)
Part 2
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MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY
The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.
Yet, one soul was awake.
Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.
The only one, or so he thought.
“You know those things can kill you.”
Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.
“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”
“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”
Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”
You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”
You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”
“Couldn’t sleep, you?”
“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.
Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”
You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”
“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”
This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.
Or you thought it was just for him.
Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.
Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.
You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.
Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”
Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”
Don’t turn back now.
“I said -“
“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”
You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.
And a fool you were for a long time.
He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”
His voice trailed off.
Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.
He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -
Realization finally struck you.
“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”
He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”
“Really?”
You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.
“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.
“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”
Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.
Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”
You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.
Or so it seemed.
You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.
Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?
“Sanji?”
He hummed, almost absentmindedly.
“Could … could I be your first?”
“What?” He whipped his head towards you.
“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”
How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.
“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”
You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.
He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.
“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.
You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”
“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.
He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.
“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.
“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.
“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”
His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”
You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“
“Out here is good.”
You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”
“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”
“Okay then,” you nodded.
You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.
“Relax, Sanji.”
“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“
Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.
You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.
“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.
His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.
You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.
Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.
“Wonderful,” you purred.
You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.
But, you would also have your fun along the way.
You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.
How was he going to last?
You kissed directly over the patch.
Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.
You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.
And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.
Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.
You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.
“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.
You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.
Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.
If only you could hear it so clearly.
Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.
Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.
His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.
You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”
He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”
Fuck.
He could have came right there.
“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.
You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.
And dear god, you were.
Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.
You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.
Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.
You pulled away with a pop.
Sanji nearly whined.
“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”
‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.
Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.
“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”
Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.
He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.
You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.
He gasped, “Love, I - I -“
He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.
But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.
He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.
You moaned, loudly.
This was all so hot.
His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.
God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.
“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”
You moaned a ‘yes’.
That was all he needed.
He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.
Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.
His reaction was priceless.
You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.
Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.
His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.
Fuck, he thought.
He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.
“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”
His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.
Sanji was greedy for more.
You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.
“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.
He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.
“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.
His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -
“Let me.”
Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.
Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.
His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.
Holy shit.
“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“
“Do whatever you need to, love.”
“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.
He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.
“Sanji,” you sighed.
“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.
“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“
His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.
“Higher,” you gasped. “Go higher.”
His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.
“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.
Sanji hummed.
For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.
Another time, he swore to himself.
His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.
Savor you.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”
You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.
“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.
Your foul mouth only encouraged him.
With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.
More. You wanted more.
Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”
Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.
Fuck, he’s a natural.
Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.
You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”
He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”
His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.
He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.
“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.
Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.
Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”
You may have created a monster.
You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”
He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”
I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?
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mayanneaa · 1 month ago
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between the waves - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.
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PAIRING : bf!jj maybank x reader
SUMMARY : you finally get to go on your surf trip with jj.
WARNING(S) : pure fluff hehe, not proofread
A/N : dividers by @roseraris
WC : 0.6k
masterlist.
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You drag your surfboard through the hot sands of a Cancún beach. The sun is high in the sky and you are grateful you convinced JJ to use more sunscreen than usual.
You two have just arrived, starting your big surf trip. JJ's been planning it for ages and promised it will be great once it starts.
He didn't even leave much time to unpack at your Airbnb. Ten minutes after getting the key JJ literally begged you to go for a quick surf. And, of course, how can you refuse his puppy eyes?
"Come on, princess!" JJ yells, already dipping his feet in the water. He's practically buzzing with excitement like a little kid, and a smile creeps onto your lips. "The waves are so good here, I swear!"
You make it to his side and feel the waves brush your ankles. He's right. It looks like surfing here has to be fun. Your hands are resting on your hips when an idea comes to mind.
"Bet I'll catch better ones than you?"
You know exactly what just sparked in his mind. He grins, eyes glistening. “You? I’m sorry, baby, but you are challenging the best surfer in the Outer Banks. There’s no way you’ll beat me.”
“Sounds like someone’s scared…” You snort and run in deeper, throwing your body onto the surfboard and paddling through the water.
The smell of salt and sunscreen surrounds you, and the pull of the ocean feels like home.
Not long after, JJ follows, his giggles likely audible to everyone at the beach. The bigger wave is coming straight at you. You steal a glance at JJ as you stand up—his golden locks are already wet, droplets clinging to his tanned skin. A wide smile lights up his face, and you feel the warmth in your heart grow.
But you can't let him win.
Water roars into your ears. With your smooth cuts you know you've got the win in your pocket. Your surfboard stays steady as you shift your weight and ride the wave, JJ close behind. One second he comes close, dangerously close, his arms ready to push you. It's now or never.
You take a sharp turn, the sudden movement throwing JJ off his board into the water with a loud splash. You let out a laugh as you see him appearing over the surface, hair sticking to his face.
"That was so rigged!" he shouts, swimming over to you.
"Rigged? It's just karma for trying to push me!"
You hear him groan and before you notice, he pulls you into the water by your leg. You fall with a soft scream, quickly breaking into a burst of laughter.
You swim out, your bikini soaking. A shiver runs through you, and you notice JJ staring at you, with an expression you can’t decode.
“What?”
He’s silent for a moment, just scanning you as a whole, until he comes closer and answers, “Just… being here with you? It’s everything I dreamed of.”
The corners of his mouth go up as he leans in and softly kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a muffled giggle into his lips.
This is perfect. The prettiest beach you’ve ever been to, stunning waves just waiting for you to get them, and JJ. You couldn't wish for anything more.
The kiss is slow; he savors every second of it. When you pull away, his lips instinctively follow after yours. JJ's hot breath fans across your face, making your cheeks flush bright red.
"Don't think kissing me will make me forget about your loss," you say, and a chuckle escapes his lips.
"Guess I’ll have to try harder, princess?"
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mynameismckenziemae · 1 month ago
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Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Rhett Abbott x Female reader
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This is my submission for @lewmagoo’s holiday celebration.
Prompt: warming each other up after a snowball fight
Warnings: MDNI! Adults (18+) only! Smut, unprotected p in v, teasing, cockwarming, etc.
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“Really?” Rhett stops in his tracks, hearing the thud of the snowball you threw at his Carhartt-covered back rather than feeling it. “If you’re gonna start a snowball fight, you can’t throw like a-“
The next one bursts when it hits the top of his beanie, and you giggle at his shocked look as he turns around.
“Throw like a what, Rhett?” You tease. “A girl?”
The way he drops the facade and empty bucket of feed to gather snow makes you smile. You love every version of him, but your favorite is when he allows himself to have fun. The fun he wasn’t allowed to have as a boy.
When it sails past your shoulder, you squeal, hiding behind one (of the three) furry cows Rhett purchased for you after overhearing how cute you think they are.
Well, he says they’re for you, but it’s hard to miss the way his face lights up when someone asks about the small herd.
“Don’t let him get me,” you whisper to the sweet, oblivious animal.
“Oh c’mon,” he calls when he sees your booted feet under her fur, “that’s not fair, I’d never hurt my-your babies.”
An unladylike snort sneaks out at his slip of the tongue as you bend down to start packing snow together.
The snow falling from the sky and blanketing the ground nearly absorbs all sound, and even your heavy-footed cowboy can sneak up on you.
Just as you glance up at the crisp creak of his boot, a ball of white and wet smacks you right in the face.
“Oh shit,” he mutters, running over while you wipe your eyes with your gloves, trying not to let him see you grin. “I meant to get your hat and-hey, you alright?”
He pulls you into his arms when you sniff dramatically. You allow yourself a quick inhale of his sweet hay and woodsy smell as he murmurs, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“No you’re not,” you whisper kissing his jaw, “but you will be.” You push the snow stuck to your gloves into the back of his collar.
“Fuck!” He gasps, arching into you to get away from your frigid fingers. But he recovers quickly, gripping your wrists as his steely blue eyes bore into yours.
“You always fight dirty,” he murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips.
“And you always fall for it,” you smile, eyes fluttering closed as he leans in.
But he diverts at the last second, instead of a kiss, he laughs as he gently pushes you back into the snow, falling beside you a moment later. You can't help but smile as he starts spreading his legs and arms, making a snow angel.
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Rhett’s lips are turning blue by the time you make it inside an hour later. It’s nearly dark and the snow is still steadily falling. As is the temperature.
But the farmhouse is warm and cozy, thanks to the fire Rhett always keeps going.
“It’s fu-fu-fucking cold out there,” his teeth chatter, and his hands shake as he tries to unzip his coat.
Pulling off your gloves to help, you nod in agreement, “Let’s get this wet stuff off so we can warm up by the fire.”
“Good idea,” he grimaces as he pulls his soaked coat off, “‘m freezing my cock off.”
“That’s a shame,” you murmur as you slip off your coat, unbuckling your coveralls next and stepping out of them, “because I had plans for it.”
The way his head jerks up in disbelief is laughable.
“Really,” you nod, biting your lip as you walk backward into the living room in just your shapeless thermals.
But by the heat in his eyes, one would guess you’re wearing the sexiest negligee.
“Oh well,” you shrug before turning around, biting your lip to keep from laughing as you hear him stumble, trying to get his feet out of his coveralls.
It’s warm as you sit on the rug by the fireplace, but Rhett’s sudden presence makes you shiver. His knees crack as he sits behind you, his long legs on the outside of yours.
“‘t didn’t freeze off,” his big hands slide over your hips, pulling you back against his thick erection, “see?”
God, do you ever. Well, you can’t see technically, but you sure can feel it. His chest is cold against your back, even through each of your layers, but his cock feels like a brand against your lower back. The feeling alone sends heat through your body before settling between your legs.
“Still feels cold,” you lie, turning your head to brush your lips over the stubble on his cheek, “better warm it up.”
He chuckles as you turn, but it dies in his throat as you pull off your top and reveal your bare chest.
Your nipples tighten when he begins to lean in. “Wait. You next.”
A smile pulls at your lips when his brow furrows. It’s all for show. He loves it when you make him wait.
The same goes for your pants and underwear, then his.
Your hands slide up his thighs that jump under your touch, avoid his bobbing cock as they trace the deep V, and pinch his nipples before gently pushing him down.
“You-hey, don’t tease,” he grumbles when you crawl over him, dipping your head to pull him in your mouth loosely, for only a moment to get him nice and wet.
His weak protest is ignored as you sit up, steadying yourself on his chest with one hand as the other drags the head of his cock through your arousal before slowly sinking down, inhaling sharply at the stretch.
He gasps as he bottoms out inside you, those big hands gripping your hips tightly. His wide eyes follow your hand trailing down his chest and then between your legs to make slow, lazy circles.
“Fuck,” he breathes when he feels you tighten in response to your ministrations.
When he tries to guide your hips to move, you shake your head, “Not yet.”
His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, pupils dilating further but he nods.
“Good boy,” you whisper, smiling when his hands bruise your hips in response to the praise.
There’s nothing hotter than when your big, tough cowboy lets you take the lead and the fact that he’s so unruly with everyone else makes his submission that much sweeter.
“Just lie still and watch me get myself off while I warm your cock up,” the hand still resting on his chest pinches his nipple before you sit up and tease your own.
“It’s-I’m plenty warm,” he argues, the ridges of his abs tensing when you ignore him, moaning softly.
It doesn’t take long before your release is within sight. He chews on his lip and his chest begins to heave as he watches and feels you begin to unravel above him.
“Fuck,” he breathes when you unintentionally begin to gyrate on him; he lifts a tentative hand to toy with your other nipple, “look at you. So fuckin’ pretty.”
That’s all it takes. Your head falls to your shoulder with a soft cry as the waves of pleasure roll over you.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” he grits out, sounding far away, “you’re milking’ me.”
Still deep inside you, Rhett flips you over before you return fully to your body.
He pushes the air from your lungs as he thrusts into you hard with a groan. There are sloppy kisses placed on your collarbone and neck before he buries his face in your shoulder.
“I-fu, you’re…you’re so good to me,” he pants, angling his narrow hips to rub your clit with each measured thrust, “love you so much.”
“I-“ your nails bite into the thick muscle of his back as he fucks the rest of your thought from your head with a particularly deep thrust. The orgasm you didn’t know was approaching hits before you had a chance to warn him.
The twinkling lights from the tree in the corner blur as you fall over the edge. Your teeth sink into Rhett’s shoulder to muffle the sounds his body is pulling from yours.
His hips stutter at the sharp bite and he cums too; the sound of his low, shaky groan in your ear as he fills your pussy sends a shiver through you.
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“I love you too,” you whisper a few minutes later, pushing the hair off his forehead.
He’s smiling when he lifts his head to press a kiss to your lips.
“Can you reach that blanket?” You tilt your chin to the throw at the end of the couch. The fire is warm and so is Rhett’s body, but the sweat is cooling and on your skin.
“Nah,” he grins, kissing your chin next, continuing down your neck and lower, “I can think of a better way to keep you warm.”
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I’m tagging my Bob girlies (gn), hope you don’t mind!
@lexixstewart
@dizzybee03
@its-the-pilot
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@atarmychick007
@littlezee80
@k-k0129
@phoenix-rising-starbird-one
@jessicab1991
@lonelysoul50
@landpiranha-blog
@fandomology101
@writtingrose
@rascallyrascalreads
@glenpowellluver
@seitmai
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prettypinkporkchop · 3 months ago
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Could you pleaseee do a Paul x reader where reader is like super pregnant and hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack makes fun of her until Paul gets fed up and snaps at them?
Thank you! I love your writing🖤♥️
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Emily places the chocolate dipped pickles in front of you. It's the snack you asked for. Everyone else around the table is eating sandwiches and chips. Paul is sitting next to you and smiles down at your plate.
"The boy is hungry for some chocolate, huh?" Paul brings a hand down to your big big bump.
You place your hand on his and smile at him. "Whatever baby wants I have to eat it." You giggle.
"That looks DISGUSTING!" Jared snorts.
Kim slaps his hand. "Hush." She demands.
He instantly straightens up and nods.
You chuckle at him and then lift a pickle and DEVOUR! The dinner was good! After eating your pickles, you topped it off with a toasted sandwich. Mhmmm!
You and Paul settle into bed. You lay in your body pillow for pregnant peeps. Your belly is in cloud heaven. Paul softly rubs your back, making circles. You hum in peace and fall into slumber.
----
You walk inside the Uley house. You take small steps and keep a hand on your stomach. You make it at the table and sit down. Emily is also sitting at the table. The wolves are training outside. You huff out a breath and relax as best as you can.
"Sweet girl, you hungry?" Emily grabs your wrist.
"Yes. Always." You giggle.
"What's the baby boy want right now?" She asks, standing up and going to the fridge.
You think for a moment. But, then you know. "Emily, do you have croissants? Oh! And chocolate syrup?"
"Mhmm."
"Can I have three of them with eggs and chocolate syrup on the eggs." The baby kicks your side and you hiss. "I hear ya, son. I think he's excited about this." You laugh.
Emily laughs and starts making your food. "Tell him to give the waitress just a few minutes."
You keep conversation with Emily while she makes your food. The pack walks inside, and they're all still too hyper after all of that training. It's like they're never worn out! They take their seats, and Sam walks to Emily, kissing her cheek. Paul sits beside you and grabs your knee.
"How was it out there?" You look at Paul.
"Wonderful. Thanks for asking." Embry winks.
"Sorry, boys! I don't have your food ready. Baby comes first." She says sternly, pointing at them.
They all nod their heads and mumble, "Yes ma'am."
Paul kisses your cheek and then grabs your chin and presses his lips on yours. "How's momma?" He places his forehead on yours.
"Mm, wonderful. Thanks for asking." You copy Embry.
"Hey, hey. Don't steal my lines, man. They're copyrighted." He laughs.
Emily walks up to the table and places your food in front of you! It smells so freaking good. The croissants and eggs and chocolate syrup all over it.
"Eugh." Quil says.
"Your son's weird for liking this stuff." Jared looks at Paul.
"No, the worst one is movie night when she freaking ate pizza dipped in pickle juice with syrup on it." Embry gags.
You sigh in annoyance. Your feelings aren't hurt because you know that they don't get it. You just want them to shut up about it for once. But before you can say something, Paul's on it.
He slams his hands on the table, which makes everyone jump. He stands out of the chair. "Guys, shut the fuck up! Seriously. You wish you could have the power of a woman and carry life." He yells.
They all have wide eyes and stare at him.
"If you continue with your bullshit, I will hurt all of you. Leave my girl alone. Now." He demands.
Sam hisses in the background. "He should've been alpha." He chuckles.
You awkwardly sit there and then slowly smile. "Cool. May I eat now?" You look at all of the guys.
They nod their heads, ashamed.
Emily set their plates in front of them. "You're all immature. Let the woman take care of her baby. If you continue, Paul has every right to bite you. Also, no more lunches from me."
They all gasp.
"Sam!" Quil says.
Sam raises his hands up. "Shouldn't have been dicks."
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butmakeitgayblog · 3 months ago
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Jumping in on the CI appreciation. The dynamic is just so fun and deceptively beautiful as messed up as they are. You are a great writer and have a unique way of captivating a reader. Kudos and much success however you choose to pursue your talent! Speaking of… have you written or plan on writing that blowout fight scene (post hospital release) where Lexa draws the proverbial line so to say?
CI fight 😈
///////////////////////
This is the stupidest you've ever felt in your life.
Which is saying a lot, considering the sheer amount of reckless and dumb shit you have done.
But this absolutely takes the cake you decide as your hired nurse wheels you into your lounge room, the sheets already turned back on your couch-turned-makeshift bed and the mountain of your wife's borrowed pillows that are already fluffed to within an inch of their goddamn life.
Your hip kills every time you try to stand on it and your back feels like it'd gone one too many rounds with a baseball bat, and thanks to the four fractured bones in your wrist, you can't even deal with it on your own with the use of a crutch or cane. So instead, you hang on to this fucking stranger and woddle over like a toddler, sweating through all three herculean steps it takes until you can sink down into the godsend that is your new recovery zone.
You wave her off with your good arm once she gets you settled. Tell her you're fine and to stop fucking hovering because you didn't even really need a nurse to move in with you to begin with.
But your wife had insisted and left no room for argument, and well... You're not very good at telling her no when she's upset.
So here the hell you are.
Your grousing is hushed by the sweeter notes of your wife's voice when she comes trailing in behind you with that familiar sharp clicking of her heels.
She apologizes for your lack of manners and tells RN Whats-her-name she can go get settled in the guest room that she'd already showed her - you suppose she must have gotten the grand tour at some point while you were still laid up in the hospital.
Ass out in a gown and perpetually high as a kite.
Not your finest point in life.
Not the lowest either.
At least the drugs made it a good time...
Your temple throbs when your 'guest' excuses herself and snaps the doors shut behind her, making you groan and reach to rub at the bandage taped to the side of your head.
Fingers quicker than yours catch you before you can do any damage.
"Don't," Lexa warns you in a whisper more gently than you had expected, considering she's had to remind you three times already today.
You murmur your sorries and pout because it hurts, but can't help but breathe lighter when she slips into the space between your legs.
Rather than settling in your lap as you'd foolishly hoped for, she perches on the edge of the coffee table instead. She smells so good and her gorgeous face is so serene when she gets comfortable and looks at you dead in the eye.
But then she folds her fingers together and she leans her elbows on her knees, and you already know you're in for some kind of ass chewing.
Fantastic.
She levels you with that 'wife look' she gets. The one that tells you that she means business.
Nobody warned you about that when you'd agreed to this whole 'marriage' thing.
"So," she breathes, only pausing to lick her kissable lips, "Welcome home, Darling."
You snort a laugh through your nose that still hurts where it's swollen but the good drugs kinda help you not care. "Thanks for having me, babe. Nice place you got here," you say in sarcasm-dipped words.
She merely hums and gives you a narrow-eyed grin that feels sexy and distinctly lethal.
"Yes. I've missed you in it. I've missed having you here. With me."
That softens you. Lulls you into a false sense of security.
"I missed you too, baby."
"Good. Then," she says in a quick breath that sounds not unlike ripping off a bandaid. "I wanted you to know that I've taken the liberty of finding a buyer. Well, a few of them, really. All predictably salivating over the collection. But I supposed it'd be appropriate that we talk about the logistics of this before moving forward. I'm open to deferring to your expertise in this field when it came to numbers because, frankly, I'm more than willing to just give the fucking things away. So, we should talk about this."
You smile, because you're an idiot, and you think it's hilarious that she's talking to you like one of her clients. But you also smile because you're a little high off your medicine, and she's really just so pretty, and because not one word of that made any sense.
"What's... 'this'? What're you— Talk about the logistics of what?"
"Selling your cars," she answers with an easy nod, like it absolutely should've been obvious.
The silence that rings through the apartment feels loud in your ears... before you burst out laughing right in her face.
"What?" you choke out and chuckle, because you must've heard that wrong. "What are you talking about?"
"Just what I said, my love." She reaches out boops the tip of your nose with a patronizingly scrunched smile. "You know I don't like repeating myself."
"That's cute, Lexa," you titter and swipe at the hand that's already so far out of reach.
"Oh I'm not kidding, Clarke."
"Okay. And I'm not selling my cars."
"No, actually, you are."
You scoff and use the shoulder that isn't currently trussed up in a sling to push you hair off your neck so you can see her better. Or... something.
Because all you really see is the calm of her smile. Those eyes that are sharp. Hollow. Unyielding. And if you'd looked beyond the swell of anger that suddenly bursts through your chest, you might've seen the whispered-smoke of terror that hid in their depths.
But you do not.
Instead you focus all of your righteous indignation and stubbornness that burns white hot. You give a derisive laugh, and shake your head, and level her with a cold stare of your own.
Making sure she hears your every word, loud and clear.
"No. The fuck. I am not."
It almost feels like victory when her smile falls away.
"Clarke," she says with a deathly click to your name, "I want those deathtraps gone."
"Lexa—"
"I don't care."
"Lexa—"
"Stop saying my name, because whatever comes after it, I promise you, I do not care."
"Well I don't really fucking care either," you spit just to get a rise out of her, "because I'm not doing it, and I don't give shit what you say, Alexandria."
Her jaw ticks to the side as her eyes flash with hellfire.
She hates that name and you know it but right now you just want her to be every bit as angry as you are.
"Okay," she says so quiet you barely hear her over the hammering of your heart as she pushes on her knees to stand up and hovers over you for a moment.
And you think it's a victory because it feels like a victory...
Until it does not.
Because she just nods.
And keeps nodding.
Just this slow up and down of her head, her eyes empty and her face cold, but not in the way that you fell in love with.
This only fills your chest with dread.
So it's a shock when she straddles your hips, planting one knee on each side and sinks down to sit in your lap. Her weight is comforting after your stay in the hospital, if not a little painful in the way it twinges your fucked up leg. But you don't even let yourself flinch because God you've missed this. You've missed her, and her scent, and the way she practically drapes herself over you.
Your good arm wraps around her waist and digs fingertips into the soft dip of her spine, pulling her flush against you. You soak up the flutter of her lashes at the feel of your breasts pressing against hers; the way she fidgets not to grind down like her body's muscle memory is obviously screaming at her to do.
Instead she stares at you through those dark hooded eyes, now so beautifully filled with emotions that make your heart pound out a more pleasant rhythm than before.
"I love you, Clarke," she says. Whispers.
And your breath catches in your chest.
Same as it does each time she says those words, so fleeting and so rare as they are that they pierce straight through the mushiest parts of your heart. Because you know she loves you. You know it in every single thing she does. But there's just... It's just... Nothing will ever rival these moments when she lets them slip out, so unguarded and vulnerable with you.
And really... that should've been a warning.
"And I love you, pretty girl," you whisper right back instead, grinning as she preens under the praise, so lost in her beautiful face you don't even remember there exists a world beyond her.
You watch her throat dip in a thick swallow, her hands smoothing up the length of your neck. She cups your cheeks as her eyes trace every line of your face... as if she were committing this moment to memory.
She shakes her head. Sadly.
"I adore you," she says again, softer still and with more conviction. "Everything. I adore everything about you, Clarke. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my entire life. And I'm always going to love you, no matter what."
When she kisses you then, in that moment, it's possibly the softest, purest thing you have ever known. She kisses you like it's the only thing she needs in this world and you hope she knows it's the same for you. Because her lips pillow and give under every caress of your lips, and her tongue slipping against yours feels like the only home you've ever known. It's one kiss among thousands you've shared. But you know you'll think of this one for years to come, and honestly if fighting gets you loving like this then you should really make a mental note to call her by her birth name more often...
She breaks the kiss with a sigh, and a shuddering breath against your lips.
"I love you. So, so much... I just want you to always remember that."
You barely have time to blink out of your haze when she extracts herself from your arms and your lap and your lips, and stands up on shakey legs.
She lets out a deep breath and smooths her hands along the front herself, rigidly primping herself free of any creases you might've left.
Her chin rises in that regal arch as she looks down at you and nods once again.
"I'll have our lawyer draw up the divorce papers in the morning."
Your hand snaps out when she turns to leave and catches her shirt cuff before you even have time to think, gritting your teeth to try and bite back the sudden shock of pain that slices up your arm and explodes through your shoulder.
"Wait, what the fuck did you just say?" you practically yelp.
Her icy glare drops to the hand that holds her, jaw flexing as she watches how bad you tremble.
"Let go of me."
"Uh, no—"
"If you don't," she cuts in, enunciating with lethal precision, "I'll have to rip my arm away, and that will hurt you more, and I don't want that. Now stop acting like a child, and let go of me."
You grit your teeth and fist her cuff harder through the cold sweat of pain. "I guess you'll have to hurt me then, because I'm not letting go until you repeat what the hell you just said."
"You heard me perfectly well, my love."
"No, I don't think I did."
"Then you'll figure it out tomorrow, won't you."
You let out a strangled sound and collapse back on the couch - both from the pain and the sheer terror ripping through you. "Lexa, what is this? What are you playing at? Why are you doing this?"
"I'm not playing at anything, I'm telling you that I'm not doing this with you ever again, Clarke," she says in her crisp business voice. "The hospitals. The sitting at your bedside. The wondering if you're ever going to be able to paint again. Watching you limp around for weeks, just to turn around and do it again. I'm done."
You roll your eyes at her dramatics. "Oh my god, are serious? It was just an accident—"
"One that could've killed you."
"It wasn't even my fault."
"That's not the point," she nearly growls, all fire and fangs. "This is your third accident in four fucking years. I can't keep doing this."
"And what exactly is 'this'?"
"Waiting around to lose you!"
Your ears ring at the volume of her shout.
You swallow as she takes a moment collect herself.
Feel the lump grow in your throat as she mindlessly fiddles with the diamond on her finger.
You know it's a habit that calms her when she's feeling particularly out of control. A tick she picked up and never seemed to kick somewhere around the third year you were married.
"I trusted you," she starts again, sounding calmer. Less shaken, but still frayed at the edges. "I told how I feel about you. I told you I wouldn't— Couldn't... survive without you."
"So your solution is to divorce me now?" you scoff. "Tell me, how does that makes sense?"
"Because I have loved exactly two people in my life, Clarke... And this way? At least I won't have to bury one of them."
It's like a bucket of goddamn ice water has just been upturned over your head.
You can't help but stare at her, dumbfounded.
Because you are... so fucking stupid.
Your heart twists and it pounds and for a split second you wonder if you're having a heart attack, or if maybe this is what they mean when they talk about broken heart syndrome. Because nothing has ever hurt this bad. Nothing has ever devastated you as much this tidal wave of guilt. Nothing has ever scared you; made you feel this kind of shame so deep in your bones.
And when she drops her hands like she's given up and turns toward the door, you almost feel like you're going to throw up with the way your stomach clenches in a fresh wave of terrified dread. You want nothing more than to pop up and run over to her and explain and just fix this, but your hip and your leg and you just—You just...
You did this.
You did all of this.
"Okay," you damn near yell, sounding distinctly like a wounded animal to your own ears.
She pulls to a stop and snaps back around, "Okay, what?"
"I said... okay."
"Okay, what?"
"Okay, I'll fucking get rid of them," you bite right back again, desperate and annoyed and shaking so badly it's making your shoulder ache.
She stares at you, placid and unmoved.
"All of them?"
You grit your jaw and blow a breath out. "All of them... The dangerous ones at least."
She clicks her tongue and starts to turn away when you yell—
"You have to compromise with me here!"
She wheels back around with thunder in her eyes and a snarl already twisting her lips.
You know you have never needed to talk faster in your life.
"The ones that aren't street legal, they're gone, okay? Nothing that is actually dangerous stays. But I'm not getting rid of the ones that are perfectly safe, and, Lexa, I'm not getting rid of my grandfather's car. It's the only thing I have from my fucked up family that means anything to me, and it's mine, and it's not fair of you to even consider making me get rid of it."
"You hate that fucking thing—"
"I don't hate it, I love that car! That car changed my life! That car got me you."
You watch the rage bleed out of her as she slumps at the shoulders.
She runs a hand through the controlled chaos of her hair.
"That car did not get you me, Clarke," she strains out in a sigh, sounding tired and beautifully frail. "We're married because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I fell in love with you. Because I'm in love with you."
It makes your heart squeeze tight all over again.
"Maybe, but you wanted that car before you ever wanted me—"
"That is not true," she cuts you off in a hush of a whisper.
She stares at you with eyes clouded with devastation and hurt, and for the life of you, you don't know how to fix it.
You never seem to know how to...
The air between you feels frozen for a long moment before she seems to make up her mind about something all at once.
She shakes her head as she crosses the room in quick, elegant strides and drops to her knees right in front of you.
"Listen to me," she says, and tenderly - so tenderly - takes your least injured hand and folds it into her own. "There are so many things I regret about my life. But making that bet, and losing it, are not included. Half of the reason I ever even wanted that car to begin with was because of how attracted to you I was whenever I saw you in it."
Your scoff is loud enough to give your concussion addled brain another headache. "You are such a liar, Lexa."
Your belly swoops when she flits that damn eyebrow up in challenge.
"While I appreciate your assessment of my moral virtues," she practically purrs, "on this, darling, you happen to be wrong... All that windswept blonde hair? The way you looked like you owned everyone and everything in those shaders that you'd so carelessly slip down before pulling away?"
You wonder if you even still have those sunglasses as she bites her lip and lets her eyes run the length of you.
You'll have to check the next time you can walk properly.
Maybe have them make a reappearance at your next brunch date.
Just for old time's sake.
The hand holding yours squeezes gently.
"You were so damn cocky. The way you'd throw that thing in park and hop out. You'd just toss your keys at the doorman like you didn't care about anything. I hated it so much," she laughs with a rueful grin that slips into something entirely more fond. "And yet I could never seem to make myself stop staring at you, darling."
Even after all these years of marriage, the thought of younger her having wanted younger you...
You shift at the throb that weakly pulses between your thighs.
"So... You made the bet because... you thought I was sexy in my car?"
"I made the bet because I thought you were entirely too full of yourself," she corrects, "which I still believe. But I wanted the car because I'd envisioned getting fucked in it more times than I could count."
God you love it when she gets vulgar.
She reaches up and brushes a curl away from your forehead.
"It just took me a little while longer to realize that the person I had been imagining fucking me was - annoyingly - very much you."
You know your smile is kind of dopey right now rather than the teasing slope that you're aiming for, but later when you look back on this moment, you'll definitely blame it on the drugs.
"So our marriage is based off you wanting me to top you in my grandfather's car?"
Her faces pulls up in distaste. "No. It's based off the fact that you are—"
She pauses and exhales something from deep in her chest, her eyes closing under the weight of whatever it is she's feeling as she finally trembles out,
"That you are everything to me."
You really really really kind of hate that you're injured in that moment, because when she opens her eyes they glisten with a lovely wet sheen. And you just want nothing more than to scoop her up and hold her in your arms. Because it's where she belongs. It's where she's always been meant to be...
"You're everything to me too, baby," you say because she is and she should know it, and you really need to remember to say it more often. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lexa, I didn't— I didn't mean to..."
She nods when you can't find the words and kisses the bruised ridge of your knuckles.
Rests her forehead there for a moment as though in prayer.
When she looks at you again she's already pulled herself back together.
That's part of why you love her so much.
Always unbreakable.
Except... when it comes to you.
You have no idea what to do with that knowledge, but you know you'd give up anything just to keep it.
And you love her so much that it makes you smile. It makes you smile, because you just want to see her smile at you again. Always.
"Hey," you say, tossing in a lazy wink because you know she hates it. "You totally had a crush on me."
She rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."
"You had a cuh-ruuuuush on me."
"Clarke. I am married to you—"
"Still," you snort. "Loser."
Her sigh of resignation is so weary it fills your heart close to bursting with how much love you have for this woman.
Because she doesn't fight you on that. Just leans her forehead against yours and nods, kissing your lips soft enough to not make the cut on them bleed again. Her nose brushes against yours in a sweet moment of aching tenderness, and when she pulls back to look at you beneath the fall of her lashes, the whole world is once again nothing but her.
"We'll go through each one together," she says somewhere between a question and a statement.
You nod in agreement, just to be safe.
"Anything remotely questionable, goes."
You heave a sigh but dutifully nod again.
"That means anything without the right mirrors, or proper turning signals. Engines that might blow up for no reason. Anything that was recalled decades ago. Anything with brakes that have a habit of failing... Anything that doesn't have fucking seat belts."
As her list grows you mentally tick off a good two-thirds of your collection.
You glance at her lips and remember how they feel against yours first thing in the morning, and simply nod again.
"Fine. But also? You can't just start threatening divorce every time you want me to do something, you know," you murmur still, because while you're compromising here... you really feel the need to remind her that she's not domesticating you or anything.
She doesn't seem remotely affected by your pout when she just shrugs and grins and leans forward.
You feel distinctly like a puppy on a leash when she pecks a placating kiss to your lips.
And then another to the tip of your nose.
"We'll see."
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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year ago
Note
I have covid (for the first time ever wtf) and I’m feeling sick and pathetic. Just thinkin’ bout how I have to take care of myself and I hate it. How do you think sugar daddy Joel would take care of our sugar baby reader without spending any money if she got Covid or the flu??
I need some fluff to get me thru. PS I love u and your writing so flipping much.
Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: mentions of illness, reader can eat chicken noodle soup, reader has hair that can be brushed away from her face
Timeline: this does not fit into the current TCOY story line and is just a separate drabble in the same universe!
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[a/n: first of all, OH NO. I know how bad COVID sucks. (fun fact I've had it on five separate occasions, I basically collect a new round of it every time a new strain runs through our hospital). Please please please make sure you stay hydrated above all else! Obviously I don't know your medical history, but the best general advice is to not get dehydrated. Your body needs fluids to fight the good battle. second, I love YOU and I know this isn't much and it's not that great b/c I threw it together in fifteen minutes but I hope it makes you feel a little better, my love💜]
TCOY DRABBLE:
HOMEMADE IS BETTER THAN STORE BOUGHT
"happiness is homemade."
“Baby girl, I need you to sit up for me.” Joel hummed.
You were buried in the thick comforter of his bed feeling absolutely miserable. The cold had come on suddenly. A small cough, more irritating than anything else, spiraled into full body aches, a splitting migraine, and congestion so bad that it felt like your head was filled with concrete. Joel’s heavy hand brushed aside the hair matted to your forehead with dried sweat. Your fever was lingering last Joel checked, but the Nyquil he forced you to take with a bottle of water earlier was helping some.
Joel murmured your name once more and you just moaned in response. You felt the bed dip with his weight and his hand dragged up and down your back. The motion brought with it a comfort on par with medication itself. 
“You think you can eat somethin', sugar?” Joel asked.
“Maybe later.” You mumbled. “Sleepy.”
“That’s probably the Nyquil.” Joel replied. “I sent Riley to pick up some stuff from the store.”
You felt Joel lean over and his lips brushed against your temple. You shook your head, “You’re gonna get sick. I should quarantine alone.” You buried yourself deeper into his bed. With your nose stuffed like it was, you couldn’t smell his sheets and that bothered you more than it probably should’ve. “Don’t you have that meeting today too?”
“If you think I’m leavin' you like this, sugar, then that fever’s got you delusional.” Joel snorted. You felt the covers you had bundled yourself in begin to untangle and a whine that could only be described as pathetic slipped your lips. Before you knew it though, Joel was under the thick comforter with you and you felt yourself get pulled into his warm chest. “C’mon, baby girl. Sleep it off.”
You snuggled closer into his grip and focused on the random patterns he was rubbing on your shoulder with his hand. As a human, this was obviously not the first time you had gotten sick, but something about this time felt different. With Joel’s thick arms wrapped around you it dawned on you that it was him. The last time you were sick you were forced to take care of yourself and work through it. Having your sugar daddy around made you needy as all hell it seemed, but the comfort Joel immediately showed you had you melting against his chest.
“When I wake up, can I have soup?” You blurted the words out, half asleep.
Before sleep took you completely, you heard Joel’s deep chuckle, felt it rumble against you, “Sugar, you can have anythin' you want.”
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When you woke up, you did feel marginally better. Joel was no longer in bed with you and you slowly sat up to rub at your face. You craved a hot shower to wash off the sweat and open your sinuses a bit more. A groan left your lips, still feeling crummy, and you began to climb out of bed.
“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes.” Joel called out. He came into the room holding a tray and you chuckled at the sight of him. He set the tray down on the nightstand to usher you back into bed. “Where do you think you’re goin'?”
You gave him a tired smile, “Shower. I feel icky.”
“Icky?” Joel asked and you nodded. He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips on your forehead again. He sat back and rubbed a hand against your leg. “Think you can stomach somethin' first?” You nodded again and Joel grabbed the tray. It looked like a bowl of chicken noodle soup, but not the kind that came out of a can of Campbell’s. “Here we go.”
You tilted your head, “Where’d you buy the soup?”
“Didn’t.” Joel grinned. “Made it.”
“You made it??”
“Uh huh.” It was honestly adorable how proud he looked of it. “Homemade is better than store bought, right? Gets you better quicker.”
You laughed, “I’m not so sure about the science behind that.”
“No, no. When I googled the recipe it definitely said this would get you better faster.” Joel teased.
You picked up the spoon and carefully blew the heat away before bringing it to your lips. The first thing you tasted was salt. A lot of salt. Too much salt. You coughed in response and tried not to twist your face to reveal the reaction. You cleared your throat and smiled, “Yum.”
Joel furrowed his brow, “What’s wrong? No good?”
“No. It’s⏤ It’s good.” You said quickly. “It’s… I like the, uh, the…” 
Joel grabbed the spoon from your fingers to take a sip himself and he immediately spluttered with a cough and groan, “What the fuck is that?” Your lips twitched up into another smile. “That tastes awful. Jesus Christ. Gimme that.”
He took the tray from you and set it on the nightstand again away from you. You set a hand on the side of your face while watching his face crumple into a grumpy look of annoyance. You shook your head, “What did it taste like as you were making it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. While you were making it did it taste okay?” You clarified. Joel narrowed his eyes at you in thought and you tilted your head. “…Did you taste it while making it?”
“You’re supposed to eat it while you make it??”
You laughed, “Not eat. Just taste.”
“Shit.” Joel scoffed. “I ate some of the chicken and it was good.” You reached out and cupped his face. He looked annoyed with himself, but at your touch the grumpy demeanor morphed into a soft look of concern and disappointment. Joel sighed and turned his head to press a kiss to your palm before leaning into your touch again. “I’m so sorry, sugar. Just wanted to do somethin' nice for you myself rather than just buy…”
You shook your head, “This was nice. I loved it.”
“There is no way you loved that soup. It was just salt, damn it.”
“No, but I love that you tried.” You replied. “It’s the effort that counts.”
“That’s just what people say when they fuck up.” He grumbled.
You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “You said the homemade version would make me feel better, and this has definitely made me feel better, daddy.”
Joel wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and stared softly for a moment before his smile returned. “You missed my lips, sugar.”
“I already told you. I’m icky.”
“Don’t care. Still want you.”
“You are already pushing your luck.” You scoffed in amusement. “You are gonna end up sick.”
Joel pulled you closer, and even at full strength you’d never be capable of refusing this man. He paused with his lips just barely touching yours. “I’ll risk it.” Joel’s lips sealed against yours tenderly. A soft kiss of comfort rather than of passion. A wordless act of reassurance that he was there. Joel’s tongue just barely brushed against yours before he leaned back and left you wanting more. He hummed, “You taste like salt.”
“Yeah, gee, I wonder whose fault that is.”
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lesbehonestsstuff · 3 months ago
Text
Catholic guilt - part 4
Casey Novak has always been the good catholic girl. Always perfect, always trying to meet high expectations. But she doesn't understand why she feels no interested in the boys who flirted with her, why her eyes instead linger on other girls.
Word count: 3463
Chapter 4/?
Shoutout to @ihaveathingforwomen for helping me figure out this chapter <3
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It was mid afternoon as Casey and Alex strolled down the familiar streets, the air warm with the start of summer. Casey’s curiosity had been building ever since Alex had shown up that morning with the promise of a surprise date. 
Casey tugged at Alex’s sleeve, her curiosity mounting as they walked down the street, Alex had been tight-lipped all afternoon, a playful smirk on her lips as she led them toward their date destination.
"Will you tell me where we are going already?" Casey asked, trying to pull more information out of her girlfriend.
Alex chuckled, her hand squeezing Casey’s briefly before she slipped it back into her pocket, glancing around. "It’s a surprise, Case. Don’t you like surprises?"
Even though they’d been together for months, the secrecy surrounding their relationship was still a weight on their chest. But being together made that weight feel lighter, like they could breathe.
Casey huffed, though she couldn’t help but smile. "I mean, I do, but you’re being awfully suspicious."
"Am I?" Alex teased back,she leaned in closer her voice dipping low in that way that always made Casey’s stomach flip."Don’t worry. You’re going to love it."
A few more steps, and suddenly, Casey caught the sounds of distant carnival music, the excited shouts of people, and the sweet smell of sugar drifting through the air. The local fair came into view, its bright lights and spinning rides now in full view.
Casey’s eyes widened as she turned to Alex, a smile tugging at her lips. "The fair?!”
Alex shrugged with a grin. "Well, I figured we deserved some fun."
Casey’s heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness of it. "That sounds perfect… but isn’t it a bit too public?"
Alex gave her a reassuring glance, lowering her voice, her hand ghosting near Casey’s. "There are going to be so many people and crowds, no one will be paying attention to us. Where did you tell your mom you were going today?"
"I told her I had softball practice until late," Casey said, a bit of nervous laughter in her voice.
"Perfect," Alex said with a smile. "Then relax. Let’s play some rigged games."
They wandered deeper into the fair, the bright colors and noise a perfect backdrop for their hidden glances and quiet touches. It was exhilarating, but nerve-wracking all the same. Each time they passed a group of people, Casey would feel her stomach twist in knots, but Alex kept her close. Just a brush of their hands here a shared smile there, she trusted Alex. In this crowd, no one would notice two girls stealing moments of affection.
When they passed a booth filled with stuffed animals hanging overhead, Alex paused, looking at the game where you had to knock down three rows of bottles with a ball. She paid the booth operator and picked up one of the balls, a determined look on her face. 
"I’ve got this," she said confidently.
Casey raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a laugh. "You’ve got this? Lexie, you’re good at a lot of things but you suck at sports."
"Well I’m good at geometry so that’s got to count for something," Alex replied with a smirk.
Casey snorted, stepping up to the booth alongside her. "Geometry and hand-eye coordination are two very different things."
Alex shot her a playfull glare “Well not all of us can be softball players with great aim and strong hot arms” she threw the ball, and it flew wide, missing the bottles. She frowned, biting her lip. Casey, still grinning, stepped forward, taking another ball into her hand.
"Here," Casey said softly, stepping behind Alex. "Let me show you how." She stood behind Alex, guiding her hands to hold the ball correctly. Alex froze for a moment surprised by Casey’s touch, a blush creeping up her neck, but she didn’t move away. Casey’s body pressed against hers, and for a second, all Alex could focus on was the warmth of her girlfriend’s touch.
"Just follow my hand," Casey whispered, her lips brushing against Alex’s ear. With that, Casey guided Alex’s arm back and then forward, the ball hitting the center bottle and knocking it down.
Alex turned her head slightly, catching Casey’s eyes. "I did it."
Casey smiled, her face just inches from Alex’s. "You did"
They lingered in that closeness for a second longer than necessary before Casey reluctantly pulled away, her hand brushing against Alex’s as she stepped aside. Alex picked out a small stuffed bear from the prize rack, holding it out to Casey, a soft smile on her lips.
"For you," she said.
Casey took the bear, blushing at the gesture. "I thought you won it."
"Let’s call it a team effort," Alex replied with a grin, her eyes full of love.
They wandered off, the smell of fried food wafting through the air which made Casey’s stomach let out a low growl, making Alex laugh. After months of dating she had discovered that her girlfriend was pretty much a bottomless pit, she trained so much that her body was almost always demanding food so she had made it a habit of carrying snacks for her. 
She gave Casey a wide smile looking over the food stands "Guess that’s our next stop," she said, gesturing for Casey to pick. The smell of fried dough and sugar filled the air, and Casey’s eyes lit up.
"I could definitely go for a funnel cake," Casey said, glancing around the fair’s food stalls.
Alex nodded, and they got in line, eventually grabbing a paper plate piled high with a warm, crispy funnel cake. They found a quiet bench a little ways off from the main bustle of the fair and sat down. 
Casey took the first bite her eyes lightening up the moment the powdered sugar and fried dough where in her mouth. She tore off a piece and held it out to Alex, smiling when Alex raised an eyebrow at her. "You’ve got to try this!"
Alex leaned forward, taking the piece from Casey’s fingers. Her lips brushed lightly against Casey’s fingertips, sending a shiver through her. They smiled at each other, the sweetness of the moment brief as they pulled away quickly.
"You’re right," Alex said, licking a bit of sugar from her lips. "This was a good choice."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, stealing glances and smiles between bites.  Every so often, their knees would bump, or Alex would brush her foot lightly against Casey’s leg, sending sparks between them.
Casey, licking powdered sugar from her lips, glanced at Alex. "I never would’ve imagined you liking these sorts of things."
"Why not?" Alex replied, taking another bite, looking at the people passing by laughing and enjoying the chaos of the fair . "They’re fun. Ridiculous, but fun."
“I don’t know, you’re from the city, you don’t strike me as the country fair type” she snickered shoving the last piece Alex left her into her mouth. 
Alex grabbed her hand under the table and gave it a light squeeze “Well I can’t said my parents ever took me to one but I do enjoy it, especially if I’m with you and get to watch how happy you are” she smiled and watched the way Caseys eyes seemed to sparkle with the string of lights above them. She loved Casey’s eyes, her smile, her dimples. She would do whatever it took to make her smile, to make her happy. 
Alex squeezed her hand again. "Maybe it’s not the fair I’m enjoying. Maybe it’s just being here with you."
A tint of red covered Casey’s cheeks and Alex was sure she would never get tired of seeing her blush. “Well I am happy, this is a great date” She had the urge to lean in and kiss her but stoped herself before she could. 
With the plate was empty, Alex stood and tossed it into a nearby trash bin.
"Come on," she said, offering Casey her hand. "There’s something else we need to do."
Casey hesitated for a second, glancing around at the crowded fairgrounds. "Isn’t this a bit risky?"
"There’s going to be so many people, no one’s looking at us. I promise. Plus holding your hand for a second won’t kill us" Alex gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Besides, I’ve got something planned."
She dragged Casey through the crowd, looking back to see her laughing at Alex’s rush and it sent a feeling of warmth inside her. The fair’s ferris wheel towered in the distance, its brightly colored lights twinkling against the darkening sky. Alex pulled them toward it, and before long, they were sitting side by side in one of the little cabins, slowly lifting into the sky.
As the wheel turned, taking them higher and higher, the noise of the fair faded, leaving only the sounds of the night and the creak of the ride. The cool evening breeze played with their hair as the sun began to descend in the sky.
Alex took Casey’s han in hers giving it a tight squeeze, resting their laced fingers between them.  The touch sent a familiar spark through Casey, and she leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder, their bodies pressed close together in the small cabin.
"This is nice," Casey murmured, her voice soft and content.
Alex nodded, her thumb gently tracing circles on Casey’s hand. "Yeah. It is."
For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. Up here, it was just them, no crowds, no fear of being seen, just the two of them and the quiet, shared closeness that came so naturally now.
As the ferris wheel made its slow descent, Casey sighed, pulling away just slightly. "I wish we could stay up there forever."
"Me too,"Alex whispered, her breath warm against Casey’s ear.
Once they were back on the ground, they wandered through the fair’s more secluded areas, where the crowd began to thin out. They eventually found a small, tucked-away spot behind a food stand, hidden from view but still below the glow of the fair’s lights.
Alex glanced around, then turned to Casey, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it’s hard," she said, stepping closer. "But I won't let anything happen to you."
Casey’s chest tightened, but in a good way. She felt safe, cherished. "I’m okay," she whispered back, "as long as I’m with you, I’m okay."
For a moment, everything else faded. The world around them disappeared. Without thinking, Alex leaned in, her lips brushing against Casey’s in a soft kiss. It was gentle and sweet, but filled with the intensity that all their kisses carried.
They pulled away, the sound of the fair slowly returning to their ears. Casey’s heart pounded in her chest, her cheeks flushed like they always did, but the smile on her face matched Alex’s.
"You know," Alex whispered, "I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of sneaking kisses with you." She gave her another peck, their foreheads resting together.
Casey grinned, her hands still intertwined with Alex’s. "Me neither."
They stayed there for a while longer, stealing a few more kisses before returning to the lights and noise of the fair, their love burning just as brightly as the lights overhead.
After a few more games and more food they headed back to Alexs house, where they could spend some more time together before Caseys mom started to wonder where she was. They took advantage of the empty streets to walk close together, their hands brushing with every step. Casey smiled and quickly gave Alex a peck on her cheek. “Thank you, it was a wonderful date” 
Alex smiled brightly and nudged her lightly “Im glad you enjoyed it, I had a great time with you.” 
Things like that made Casey fall even harder for Alex, she never had anyone who cared for her that much, who seemed to know everything about her. She smiled, her hear bursting “You know me so well” she whispered her fingers brushing Alex’s skin. “I love that about you. I love… you” 
Alex’s breath hitched and she stopped in her track at Casey’s confession, her eyes widening for a brief second before softening “I love you too, Casey” she whispered back, her voice brimming with emotion. She reached her arms around her, hugging Casey close. The hug surprising both of them. As much as Alex wanted to kiss her right there they where still on the street so she just held her close trying to convey all of her feelings into the hug. 
They rushed to Alex’s after they pulled apart, tears in their eyes, well aware that they would only have an hour before Casey had to go. As soon as they were through the door Alex wrapped her arm around Caseys waist, her lips pressing against Casey’s in a deep kiss. 
They kissed slowly, savoring the moment. When they finally pulled away, Alex rested her forehead against Casey’s, trying to catch her breath.
“I’m so happy,” Casey murmured, her fingers still laced with Alex’s. “I never thought I’d have this—someone who understands me, who makes me feel safe. I don’t ever want to lose this.”
“You won’t,” Alex promised, her hand moving to gently stroke Casey’s hair. “I’ll protect this, I’ll protect us, no matter what.”
They cuddled on the couch after, spending the rest of the night making out until reality creepy back in and it was time for Casey to go. She  glanced at the clock, biting her lip. “I should probably get going soon. My mom’s going to start wondering where I am.”
Alex frowned but nodded “I know. But I hate when you have to leave.”
“Me too,” Casey said softly. “But we’ll see each other tomorrow, right? My mom has a dinner party so I can come over.”
Alex smiled, stepping closer to her. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
They shared one last lingering kiss by the door, Casey’s fingers brushing against Alex’s wrist as she pulled away. She loved Alex, and Alex loved her. She kept repeating that as she walked home wishing tomorrow would come faster.
By the next day Casey had snuck back to Alex’s as soon as she could, the warm afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of Alex’s spacious bedroom, casting golden light over the soft white bedspread. Casey lay on her back, her hand playing with Alex’s fingers as they lay close, their legs tangled together. 
“I can’t believe your parents are never around,” Casey whispered, her voice soft, filled with awe at the contrast between Alex’s home and her own where her mothers presence was suffocating. “It’s like…our own little world.”
Alex smiled, her thumb brushing lightly across the back of Casey’s hand. “It’s one of the perks, I guess. We can just be…us here. No one watching.”
Casey looked over, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “I like being us,” she murmured. The date at the fair had been fun but here, in the quiet of Alex’s home, it was easy to forget the dangers of being found out. It was just them.
Alex shifted a little closer holding herself over Casey, the space between them closing as she tucked a strand of Casey’s hair behind her ear. Her gaze was soft, filled with affection. “I like it too,” Alex said. “And I want to make sure you’re comfortable, always.”
“I am,” Casey said, her voice barely audible. Their faces now only inches apart. 
Alex’s heart skipped a beat at the admission. She knew what was at stake for Casey, and that would always drive her to be careful. “I love being with you, I love you so much.”
Casey’s expression softened even more, the weight of Alex’s words sinking in. It was that gentle love, the understanding, that patience, that made her fall deeper in love with Alex every day. She lifted her head up a bit until her lips met Alex’s, they kissed for a moment until Alex lowered herself back to lie next to Casey. 
As the evening light began to fade, they found themselves lying even closer, Alex’s arm draped lazily around Casey’s waist as they snuggled into the bed, talking about nothing and everything. Casey’s head rested on Alex’s shoulder, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the girl she loved. “I wish the world didn’t hate us,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper now.
“I know,” Alex whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to Casey’s forehead. “But I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
For a while, they just stayed like that, quiet comforted by the others presence until Casey got the courage to ask one of the questions about Alex that had been buggin her mind for weeks  
"Alex," Casey whispered after a while, breaking the quiet. "Why did you leave New York? You never really told me."
Alex tensed for a moment before exhaling softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Casey’s stomach. "I got caught," she said, her voice quieter now. "With a girl."
Casey blinked, processing the words, her heart breaking for Alex. "Caught? What do you mean?"
Alex shifted to face her more directly. "My parents found out. They walked in on us, and it wasn’t pretty. Instead of dealing with it—the whispers, the judgment—they sent me away. I think they thought a Catholic school, would be a good fix. To get me away from... that part of me." She sighed, looking sadder than Casey had ever seen her.
Casey’s chest tightened as she listened. Suddenly, Alex’s distance when talking about her parents made sense. She reached up and cupped Alex’s cheek, turning her head to meet her gaze. "I’m so sorry, Alex," she whispered.
Alex leaned into the touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment. "It’s fine," she murmured. "I have you now. That’s what matters."
They kissed again, this time with more tenderness, a sweet kiss that left them dreamy and sleepy. Soon enough, the day caught up to them. Without realizing it, the room turned into a warm cocoon of drowsiness. Alex’s hand found its way to Casey’s waist, and Casey nestled into her neck, both of them lulled by the calm around them. Their eyes fluttered shut, and before either could stop it, sleep claimed them, their limbs tangled beneath the blanket.
The next morning, the harsh light of the early sun cut through the curtains, interrupting the peacefulness of the previous night. Casey’s eyes blinked open slowly, her mind still foggy with sleep. For a second, she smiled, seeing Alex fast asleep next to her, hair messy from sleep, the warmth of Alex’s body beside her, the quiet safety of being wrapped up in her girlfriend’s arms.
Then it hit her.
Her eyes shot open, and she bolted upright. “Oh my god!” she gasped, her voice frantic as the reality of the situation crashed down on her. “I didn’t go home—I didn’t—my mom’s going to kill me!”
Alex stirred beside her, groaning softly as she blinked up at Casey in confusion. “Case…what’s wrong?”
“I didn’t go home!” Casey repeated, panic rising in her voice as she threw the blanket off. She was up on her feet, grabbing her shoes and jacket, her heart pounding. “She’s going to lose it, Alex. I have to go. I have to go now.”
Alex sat up quickly, her expression shifting from grogginess to concern. “Hey, hey, calm down,” she said, trying to reach for Casey’s arm, but Casey was already pulling away, frantically searching for her bag. “It’s okay. We can figure it out.”
“No, we can’t! She’ll know something’s wrong! How am I supposed to explain this?!” Casey’s voice cracked with anxiety as she tugged her jacket on, hands shaking. Her mind was spinning with panic. 
Alex stood and grabbed Casey’s hand, trying to ground her. “I’ll help you, I’ll think of something. Just breathe, okay?”
But Casey was already halfway out the door, panic driving her forward. “I’ll see you later,” she managed to say over her shoulder, rushing down the stairs.
The air outside burned her throat with each panicked breath, and Casey could feel the tension in her chest as she sprinted down the street toward her house. Her heart was racing as she approached her front door, praying she could sneak in without anyone noticing. But as she turned the knob and pushed the door open as quiet as she could be, her stomach dropped.
Standing there, just inside the doorway, was her father. High and mighty in his uniform, the image of intimidation staring her down to nothing.
The look on his face made Casey freeze in place, her breath catching in her throat.
“Where were you?”
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magnus-the-maqnificent · 11 months ago
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prompt: malec and the gang having korean bbq, everyone look in puzzled as magnus the one who do the grilling and then just put everything in alec plate
Anh? Actually sending a decent prompt for once? More likely than you think 😳
Read on ao3
****
Maybe it was the six glasses of soju, maybe it was the atmosphere - the restaurant lit like a 90’s bar, the blue aquariums lining the walls full of colourful fish (a sight that made Alec miss his children - Max and Rafael would’ve adored them), the music playing through the speakers of the restaurant and the smell of hot sizzling meat - but Alec was feeling especially smitten today.
Or maybe it was the love of his life looking particularly sexy today, wearing a powder blue silk shirt with the top few buttons left undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was a little looser than usual, a few stray locks falling in front of his face. His eyeliner was sleek and sharp, and lips pursed in intense concentration as he flipped some shrimp on the grill.
Alec was just content to watch him for now, chin propped up on a palm, hearts in his eyes.
They had come out for Korean barbecue - him and Magnus, and Jace and Clary and Isabelle and Simon - because it was the weekend, and because Isabelle thought it’d be fun to go out on a ‘triple date’, and because Jace and Magnus had clashed on what kind of food they wanted and Korean barbecue ultimately met both their needs.
Alec could hear the chatter of conversation between the others, but his eyes were only on Magnus, who was now busy rolling a piece of shrimp and some pickled garlic in lettuce, which he then dipped in some chilli oil and held out to Alec.
“Say ahhh.”
Alec rolled his eyes but complied anyway, letting Magnus feed him. The taste of crisp lettuce hit him first, and then the chilli and the shrimp and everything else, the flavour while literally bursting into Alec’s mouth.
Magnus smiled, no doubt enjoying what he called Alec’s “foodgasm face”.
“Good?”
“Mmhmm,” Alec nodded, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he chewed. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile a little.
Magnus feeding him had become something of a habit between them. It was a result of Alec’s long work days that blended into nights in an extra office Magnus had summoned up for him inside their apartment, plus Magnus’s persistent desire for himself and everyone around him to eat well, particularly a minimum of three meals a day minimum.
So, these days, when Alec tended to answer ‘you should eat something’ with some variation of ‘later’ more than three times in a row, Magnus would simply sigh and summon up a plate of food and a stool next to Alec’s chair. He’d feed Alec until the plate was left empty, sometimes with chopsticks, sometimes with a fork or spoon, sometimes with his fingers, carefully wiping away any excess left on Alec’s lips afterwards.
It was probably not something to get used to, and Alec might have to put a stop to it sooner or later, but screw him - he had a repressed childhood and loved being pampered.
Right now, Magnus was feeding him a second helping of a lettuce roll with shrimp, when someone cleared their throat from across the table.
“Are we going to get some, too, or are you just going to feed Alec everything?” Jace pouted.
Alec snorted, “I’m pretty sure you can assemble your own rolls, Jace.”
“Okay, one,” Jace protested, “you can assemble your own too, and two, I’d be doing it right now if Magnus hadn’t dumped all the cooked shrimp onto your plate.”
Alec looked down at his plate, and - yep, there was a heap of shrimp on there.
Magnus sighed, looking long-suffering. “I put on another batch for you guys, they’ll be cooked soon.”
“What if you’re too busy cooing over Alec and they burn?” Jace narrowed his eyes.
“I keep telling you I can grill-“ Isabelle butt in.
“Oh, it’s fine- I mean- Magnus has way more experience so-“ Clary interrupted, steering the evening clear of disaster. 
Isabelle sighed and leaned back in her chair. “When will the world appreciate my talent?”
“I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with any of this,” Simon muttered to no one in particular. The waitstaff had kindly procured pre-grilled vegetarian alternatives for him, which included grilled mushrooms, tofu and pineapple slices. 
Simon hadn’t touched the pineapples so far. Alec didn’t think he was planning on doing so either.
Magnus sighed, “I won’t let them burn. Also, you can have the first serving of brisket.”
Jace seemed satisfied with that offer, and busied himself with the glass noodles they had served as a side.
Magnus paused to flip the shrimp on the grill, and then turned his attention back to Alec, assembling another roll and holding it out for him.
Alec shook his head. “You should eat too, love.”
“You first, babygirl,” Magnus grinned.
Alec rolled his eyes again, but how could he ever refuse?
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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago
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are you working on anything right now? if so...can we get a snippet?
Yes!! I'm working on an enemies to lovers piece (equipped with a one bed trope) requested by @victoria-styles! It should be done tomorrow and I'm having so much fun, so I'm very grateful for the idea!! 😭💞
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“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry suddenly growls, and you vaguely see the outline of his body as he straightens up from the couch.
Curious, you watch as he stalks over to you, his large hand coming out to snatch onto the blankets and rip them back.
“Shit,” you breathe, recoiling away from the frigid air. “The fuck are you doing—”
“You won’t stop fucking shaking and it’s fucking annoying,” he snaps as he climbs onto the mattress beside you. “Move.”
A tad stunned, you blink at him. “I—seriously, what are you doing—”
“I’m trying to get some goddamn sleep,” he huffs, as if it were obvious. “But I can’t with your fucking teeth making so much goddamn noise. So, I’m gonna fucking hold you until you stop shivering.”
“Like hell you are,” you snort, already wiggling away from him. “The whole fucking point of us finding another room was so that we didn’t have to share a bed. Remember?”
“Yeah, well, that was before your teeth started doing the tango,” he retorts. “Now shut the fuck up and cuddle me.”
“I—Harry. I’m not going to cuddle you, that’s gross—”
“Oh, grow up. God, you are so fucking dramatic. We’re adults—”
“Yeah, but we’re not in fucking Twilight. Okay, Jacob? I don’t need your doggy heat to warm me up—”
“My doggy heat? The fuck does that even mean? I wasn’t gonna hold you doggy style—”
“Yeah, you’re not gonna hold me at all—”
“For fuck’s sake,” he seethes for a second time before his arm is extending across the space between your bodies to latch onto your hip and drag you closer.
You don’t have the time to protest before your face is being squished into his chest as he pulls the blankets back up. 
Your brain is the next thing to freeze as you take a moment to comprehend what the fuck just happened.
And why you aren’t fighting it.
Because much to your dismay…he’s right. Again. Instantly, this is significantly better, and you can already feel the movement return to your toes as you take a deep breath.
And suddenly, you realize that he’s…everywhere. Against you, around you, inside you. Well, his smell is, anyway. The subtle scent of his cologne making a home in your lungs.
And it’s…nice. A masculine vanilla, of sorts. Comforting.
…ew.
And while your first instinct is to reach up and shove him away…you don’t. Instead, your hands come to rest on his chest as you feel each curve and dip of his strong body. Maybe you’re too cold or too tired, but whatever the case, you don’t fight it.
“You can’t do this,” you choose to mumble, despite the fact that you do nothing to stop it.
He simply snorts under his breath. “Already am.”
You shift but don’t pull yourself out of his arms. “I can’t breathe.”
“You’ll get over it.”
Your eyes narrow, even though he can’t see you. 
For a moment, the dark room falls quiet. The sound of his breathing above you is soft and you feel his body rise and fall with each one. It nearly lulls you to sleep as the heat begins to surround you, much like his arms have.
“Why are you so mean to me?” you hear yourself whisper, momentarily stunned by the words that came from your own throat without permission.
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Here's the full part if you'd like it! ~ Stuck With You*
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
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allieebobo · 2 years ago
Text
Eid Mubarak :)
I'm so sorry this is a little late, but Eid Mubarak to everyone who celebrates! (And Selamat Hari Raya to folks who come from where I come from! <3)
Here's a little snippet of Rayyan and MC back home, celebrating :)
Part I.
Rayyan's family have just gotten back from their neighbourhood mosque, and now they're busy with the finishing touches to the meal preparations.
Little Mahaila is still a little too young to help out, but she doesn't wanted to miss out on all the fun, so Rayyan hoists her up to the kitchen counter, and Mahaila keeps up a constant stream of chatter directed at MC, while Rayyan and their mother busy themselves with the cooking.
Already the counter is laden with huge colorful dishes, and the smell is to die for. Mahaila's pointing out each of the dishes to MC one-by-one, and Rayyan and their mother occasionally chime in with details and little family anecdotes and recipe instructions.
There's Mahshi—stuffed peppers with tomato sauce, her grandparents' favorite, Batatis bil frakh—potatoes with chicken, her dad's favorite, and Mesaka’a—oven roasted eggplant with ground beef, which is Rayyan's favorite. Rayyan no longer quite remembers how it had tasted, back in Cairo, but ever since they'd moved to Seattle, the dish has become a family specialty, mostly because all the ingredients can be easily found in the grocery shops in Seattle.
Part II.
Rayyan's mother holds a spoon out to Rayyan. "Come, help me taste the Molokhia," she says. "Does it need more cilantro?"
Rayyan takes a big mouthful of the thick green soup which always tastes a little too healthy, in their opinion. They scrunch up their face, swallow, and nod—a little weakly.
Their mother smacks them on the arm and snorts. "I don't know why I bother," she says, shaking her head and bustles over to offer it to MC instead.
The shock of the taste makes MC blink, then breathe out softly, before allowing it to swirl around their tongue, delightfully distinct from anything they've ever tasted. They detect chicken broth, which forms the strong, comforting base, then the delicate and familiar layers of cilantro, garlic, salt and pepper, but there's another taste—strong and clean—cutting through everything else. "Wow," they breathe, genuinely astounded. "It's amazing. What is it?"
Rayyan's mother beams at MC. "I think what you are tasting is the leaf of jute tree. I am happy you like it. It is my favorite too." She nudges Rayyan in the ribs. "We have good taste. Unlike this one."
Rayyan makes a face at you. "Suck up," they whisper, for your ears only, but even their usual knitted brows can't hide the big grin that's spreading across their face.
Part III.
A loud clatter interrupts your conversation, and Rayyan looks up in alarm, still swiping at their mouth with an arm. Ishaq, one of Rayyan's twin brothers, pauses guiltily mid-stride, about halfway to the kitchen door. You hadn't noticed him come in. In his hands, there's a big bowl of kahk—nut cookies dusted with sugar. A bunch of cutlery lie on the floor, knocked over in his rush to escape with the loot.
Mahaila, beaming, lips also stained with the evidence of powdered sugar, helpfully points a finger at her brother.
"You already ate like five of them," Rayyan's mother scolds, taking the plate from Ishaq and placing it firmly on the table. "Shoo now! Before I ban you from kahk for life!"
His jaw drops, and he quickly scurries away obediently.
Rayyan snorts at you, and sees you eyeing the cookies curiously. They pick one out of the plate, then close the distance between you, smiling. "Would you like one?" they ask, voice dipping low as they lean in closer to you.
Part IV.
MC's heart flutters, and they hop off the counter, face now inches from Rayyan's. "If it's as sweet as you are," MC says, grinning, "then yes."
Rayyan bring a hand up, then pop the sweet treat into MC's mouth, studying their expression closely.
There's an immediate burst of rich, nutty sweetness. MC lets out a soft groan of appreciation.
Rayyan laughs, then brings their thumb up to wipe the sugar from MC's bottom lip, green eyes sparkling. MC catches their hand. That's when Rayyan leans in for a quick kiss, tasting the sweetness of soft sugar on MC's lips. When they finally step back, there's an infuriatingly smug smile on their face. "The cookies are good this year, aren't they? I helped make them."
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analogwriting · 8 months ago
Text
The Other Side of Paradise
Chapter 4: Take A Slice
Killer x gn!reader word count: 2.5k first|next a/n: sorry im so slow w this fic - i swear i'll start picking up the pace as soon as i finish training these new managers
Oh fuck.
Everything hurt. It hurt to move. It hurt to think. It hurt to exist. Your entire body felt like lead as you entered the world of the conscious, but you weren't even sure if you were going to have the strength to open your eyes. You might just have to go into a forever sleep.
You weren't even sure when or who you got home. You remember basically ascending as Killer fucked you into the ethereal plane over and over but then at some point your memory gets too foggy because you were too lost in the sauce to even process what was going on.
Slowly, you opened your eyes. The curtains were still drawn, so you weren't sure the time, but the sun peeked through the edges. You were in your shared bed but Killer was nowhere to be found. Probably band practice or something along those lines. 
Though, you didn't hear them jamming out, so you assumed it was the second option. 
You needed to sit up. Deep breath. You could do it. 
“Don't strain yourself.” You jumped at Killer’s sudden voice, wincing at your own movement. You looked over, seeing him walking in with a tray of food. “I had a feeling you'd wake up soon.” He smiled, setting everything on the nightstand. The smell of what he made wafted through the air and into your nostrils, making you salivate and realize just how hungry you were.
You groaned, not wanting to move but you needed to. You knew you needed to eat and hydrate. You'd feel much better after. 
You felt the bed dip as Killer sat on the edge of it. “Just pull me up, babe. Rip off the bandaid.” You knew you'd keep putting it off. You heard him snort before taking your arm and suddenly pulling you up. 
Oh fuck.
Your entire body buzzed with pain for a moment and a wave of nausea washed over you; a tingle running up your spine specifically, giving you goosebumps. You sat there a moment, letting your body ride through the pain for a moment before opening your eyes  and letting out a breath. 
Killer was watching you with a frown. “I’m sorry,” he said. You blinked, looking at him. “It’s my own fault.” You snorted, pulling him into a soft kiss. “I could've told you to stop, but I didnt. I wanted this. This is my own consequence.” 
He frowned deeper. “But I could've went a little gentler.” You shook your head. “Nah. It was perfect. I wouldn't have had it any other way “ You kissed him again and he smiled. The both of you knew you were an enjoyer of the more rough side of things.
“If you say so.” He shook his head, grabbing the tray and setting it up in your lap. “Now, I need you to eat everything on this plate and drink all that water, got it? I'll be back up in half an hour to check on you.”
Your face warmed up but you smiled before saluting and nodding. “Aye aye.” You knew he was serious when it came to food - especially after a full night of fun.
With that, he left you to your own devices. 
You looked at the entire spread he cooked up for you. He made all of your favorites. He wanted you to regain your strength after last night. He also didn't know the lack of food you consumed yesterday. You might keep that to yourself, you don't need him upset and worrying about you right before he leaves. 
Plus, it's not like it's a habit. You were just too excited to eat.
The food was delicious as it always was whenever Killer cooked. You swore that if rockstardom didn’t work out, he could definitely make it as a chef of some kind - that was his backup plan anyway. You’d say you were biased, but everyone who has ever had his cooking would agree. He was easily the best cook any of you knew. 
After you finished up, you decided you should probably try to make your way out of bed. You didn’t want to spend all day laying around, especially when Killer only had so much time left with you. You wanted to be able to spend time with him properly. He’d stay with you in bed if you asked, but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to be able to do things. What things? You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to make him lay around the entire time. You also wanted to make sure you spent time with Kid, Heat, and Wire too.
You slowly made your way to the edge of bed, taking your time standing up. Your entire body ached, but the more you moved and stretched it, the better it felt. Exhaustion and stiffness were all you were experiencing right now.
You rummaged around your dresser for a moment before deciding on a nice and comfortable outfit before heading out the bedroom. Music was playing through the house, but it wasn’t their rehearsing, they were just playing something on a stereo. You wondered what they were up to.
Slowly but surely, you made your way down the stairs, taking them one at a time. The smell of barbeque hits your nose and now you were really curious as to what was going on. You picked up the pace as much as you could, eventually reaching the bottom.
“Babe, you shouldn’t be up.” You felt Killer immediately sweep you into his arms with a concerned look on his face. “Don’t strain yourself.” He frowned.
You gasped, looking at him. A small laugh escaped you and you shook your head. “I’m fine, darling, really.” You kissed his cheek, squirming to have him put you down. “Besides, it smells phenomenal and there’s decorations. What’s going on?” 
Killer finally caved, setting you down gently, but keeping an arm around your waist as he walked you into the kitchen. You blinked as you saw he had all kinds of things he was prepping to cook.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re throwing a party, duh.” Kid’s voice boomed from behind you, making you jump from the sudden noise. You looked back at him, glaring slightly. “You ass.” He just laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.
“A party for what?” You decide to just move on instead of making a fight like you usually did. You didn’t have the energy for it. Kid just looked at you for a moment before moving on as well. He was probably well aware of your current predicament. “Well, I’m assuming Killer told you the news finally yesterday.” 
You blinked, momentarily forgetting what he could be referencing before it hit you. Your brain was still foggy and slow. You nodded at him. “The fact that you guys finally got signed?” As you said those words, you couldn’t help but grin widely, Kid mirroring you. “Congrats, by the way.” 
Kid chuckled, straightening himself out. “Thank you. It was about time we did anyway.” Confidence radiated from him; he was absolutely going to be riding this high for a long time. He snorted, shaking his head. “Anyway, we told everyone we had big news and we decided to throw a party for it.”
“So, who all is making it?” It was rare that your large friend group was able to all meet up at once. When there were over thirty of you, it was close to impossible. Besides, you hadn’t even so much as looked at your phone. You had no idea where it was, so you hadn’t even checked the chat.
“Everyone, actually.” Your attention turned back to Killer, your eyes widening. “Holy shit, really?” It was hard enough to plan an event where each one of you could actually make it, but to throw something on the fly? And everyone able to show?
That was a miracle. A good omen, surely. Why else would the stars align so perfectly? 
“We were just going to break the news in chat once we told everyone at the party, but since everyone will actually be there, we won’t have to do a second reveal or tell people to keep it bottled until we told everyone.” Kid grinned, clearly excited. As he should be - this was huge! This is what he’d been dreaming of since he was seven! This is what he had worked so hard for - what they had all worked so hard for. You couldn’t be more proud of them all.
“This is fantastic! Finally, the universe decides to cut us some slack. For once everyone is able to get together and y’all got signed. It can only go up from here!”
Kid laughed loudly, nodding. “Cheers to that one!” Then he shotgunned his beer before slamming the empty can against his head to smash it and throwing it away. You fuckin’ hated when he did that, but you didn’t say anything. You were going to choose peace.
You patted your body, looking around. “Where is my phone by the way? I haven’t seen it all day.” You weren’t really asking anyone in particular, you were more mumbling to yourself.
“It’s plugged in upstairs, I put it on silent so you could get some sleep. Figured I’d wake you up if anything important happened,” Killer said as he moved to do some more food prep. It was also true - if anyone couldn’t get a hold of you, they’d call him since you two were always together. He kept his phone on his person for this reason. Just in case of emergencies since you were pants at keeping yours on you.
“Ah. Makes sense.” You also weren’t one to really be attached to your phone when you were home anyway. You had everything you needed here and saw your friends quite a bit. You tended to check it more when you were in classes or at work. Being by yourself, you had nothing else to do besides be on your phone anyway.
“Not too much has happened in the chat. Just plans arranging,” Kid said, grabbing another beer. You nodded, folding your arms and leaning back against a counter.
“What still needs to be done?” You looked at the both of them. Kid opened his mouth when Killer interrupted. “You need to rest. We have everything under control. Heat n’ Wire should be back from the store soon.”
You frowned, folding your arms as you pouted. You suddenly felt a wave of defiance as he shot down any chance of you helping before you even offered. “But I don’t wanna. I want to help!” You looked at him as he turned to you. “You can help me by making me worry less and resting up before the party. You always go hard, so I want you to be ready.”
You huffed at him, shaking your head. He wasn’t wrong - you were quite the partier. You loved the entire vibe of parties…at least with your friends. “Not going. I’m helping and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 
Kid snorted as he watched the interaction between the two of you. “Alright. You two have your little lovers quarrel, I’m going to head back outside to set up the backyard.”
“I’m coming wi-” As you spoke, you had started to follow him when you felt your boyfriend tug the back of your shirt to keep you in place. “You’re not.”
You spun on your heels, glaring at him. “You can’t force me to go and lay down - that’s dumb. Just lemme help!”
“What’s going on here?” Wire walked in from the garage door. 
You frowned at him. “Killer won’t let me help.” You folded your arms to pout and your friend chuckled, shaking his head. “He keeps telling me I need to rest when I’m perfectly fine!” 
“I heard you had a long night, rest would be wise.” He looked from you to Killer. It was no surprise everyone knew, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Killer wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but it also wasn’t needed. “But, we also know how stubborn they can be once they make up their mind.” Your boyfriend sighed, nodding. He knew all too well. You and your cousin were the same in that regard. Stubborn and hot-headed.
“Surely, we can find a compromise.” 
Heat walked in from the backyard. “We have to run to the store again, we forgot some stuff.” He groaned, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Then it dawned on you.
“Oh shit, you guys are pants at organizing. I can’t imagine that everything is going to be ready for the party in time.” If it were solely up to them, they’d run out of things halfway through the party or not get half the shit needed. You glanced at the clock to start planning on what needed to be done by when.
You moved, checking the list both from their previous trip and the one they need to go on. “This isn’t nearly enough. Let me check and see the status of things.”
You made a big sweep. You checked the garage, the kitchen, and the backyard - the three main hangout areas of the house. Things were set up here and there but it was all in pieces and you knew that if you didn’t take over putting things together - it was going to end in disaster. Not that anyone would really care, but if this was going to kind of tie off as their going away party - you wanted it to be good.
“Alright, boys. Let me take over organizing everything. We only have a few hours and a shit ton of things that need to be done, so let’s lock in.” You had already made a list of things to be done, items Heat and Wire needed to grab from the store, and an inventory of everything you already had. 
Killer had gone and grabbed your phone for you so that you could gauge who was arriving when so you could have a more solid line of events that were going to happen, creating a kind of itinerary for what was going to go on. He seemed to be satisfied with you managing things as long as you didn’t move around too much.
This is how you were helping out. You were going to instruct everyone on what to do. You didn’t need to move around too much, you mostly sat at the island in the kitchen as you planned everything out. The boys moved around you, occasionally asking you what they needed to do next. Naturally, the grocery list that Kid put together for their second trip was still not everything they needed, so you were able to expand that before sending them back on another run.
With you in charge, things were going a little more smoothly and before you knew it, everything was ready. All you had to do was wait for your friends to start rolling in.
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campingwiththecharmings · 2 years ago
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✨ hi would it be possible to get poe's pov during the closet scene in Love is a Game (For Fools to Play)? or anything else from that fic. pleeeeeeeeeeeeease? 🙏
*POV Ask Game*
AN: Thank you so much for your patience, nonnie. For some reason, I really struggled to start this. idk if it's because it was for something that was finished or if it was the different POV, but it was a little challenging for me. Once I got in a groove though, it was kind of fun lol.
Anyway, no more blathering, here is the closet scene from Love is a Game (For Fools to Play) as told from Poe's POV. Hope you enjoy it 💖
(Un-beta'd)
Rated: T Words: 775 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: kissing, mutual pining, friends to lovers, references to alcohol and/or drinking, internalized angst. AO3
——————
He’s nervous. Uncharacteristically so. It’s just you, he thinks, what’s there to be nervous about? You’re his best friend, after all. But that is the problem, he realizes: You’re his best friend. The one he comes to for anything and everything. Suddenly he’s wishing the bottle had landed on a stranger; strangers he has no problem kissing, but you… 
“Alright then. You ready?” He asks, clearing his throat, willing his thoughts to stop spiraling. 
“Sure. Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
He sniffs a quiet laugh through his nose at your response before moving forward, your familiar scent invading his senses. It’s dark in here, darker than he’d anticipated, so he can’t see much more than the outline of your head before him. It’s difficult to determine exactly how far you are from him so, to avoid headbutting you, he reaches out a hand, searching for your face. 
“Uh, what are you doing?” you ask, voice laced with confusion as he places a hand on your shoulder. 
He remains silent as he gingerly feels his way up the side of your neck, the gentle thrum of your pulse against his fingers. He continues his path up, moving to cradle your face. He hears your breath catch, the sharpness of it cutting into him like a knife. 
“Not much light in here,” he says, more nonchalant than he feels. “Need a little assistance if I’m gonna have to land blind.” 
“My face isn’t a landing strip, Poe." 
He snorts, the joke calming him somewhat as he absently strokes his thumb over your cheek. “Noted.” 
Your warm breath fans across his lips, smelling sweetly of the Jet Juice you’d both been imbibing. His nose bumps yours as he leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as he turns his head. When he finally presses his mouth to yours, something swells in his chest, something he can’t quite put a name to. He feels like he’s moving in slow motion, his lips sliding against yours unhurriedly, like they could do this all day. When you begin to reciprocate, pressing your lips back against his, he pauses, like his brain is unable to process the action; you’re kissing him back. Obviously you’re kissing him back, that’s the game, isn’t it?  
So why does it feel like there’s more to it than that?  
This thought flips a switch inside him—suddenly this is all he’s ever wanted, you are all he’s ever wanted. Why did it take him so long to realize it? 
He sighs, whether in relief or contentment, he’s not sure, all he knows is he wants more—more of you, of this. He angles your head, deepening the kiss as he presses his mouth harder against yours. Your lips are soft, molding to his like they were made for this, for him. When he pulls you closer, he hears your breath catch, a jolt of pleasure rushing through him at the sound. This isn’t the first time he’s held you (hell, you’ve fallen asleep on him more times than he can count), but it’s never been like this—like he can suddenly feel every inch of you. 
Somehow though, it’s still not enough. He needs more.
When he traces the seam of your lips with his tongue, you part them without hesitation, sighing softly when he dips inside. The taste of you is intoxicatingly sweet, both from the alcohol and from something so inherently you. He licks into your mouth, tongue sliding hotly against yours as he cradles your cheek, his fingertips caressing your velvet-soft skin. He feels your fingers tangle in the fabric of his shirt, a groan escaping his throat when you somehow manage to pull him even closer, his chest bumping against yours.
Lust clouds his head, makes him forget where he is, forget the game, the horde of Resistance personnel outside the door, forget everything—except you. So lost is he in you, in this moment, he almost misses the click and whoosh of the closet door opening. At the last second, he panics, quickly schooling his features as the light spills inside, squinting as his eyes readjust. 
He doesn’t look at you; he can’t, is too afraid you’ll see, see that inside he’s a mess, a jumble of thoughts and feelings he needs to untangle. He just needs time, he decides, time to figure out what just happened, what he feels…what you feel. When you pull away from him, a piece of him dislodges, becomes unmoored. He pushes the feeling away, nodding awkwardly to the crowd as the two of you exit the closet to return to the party.
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