#the way he just bared his neck for the water?? amazing
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zyafics-recs · 24 hours ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
i lied (warning i don't think my commentary r that good) ⬇️
JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope.
that’s his bf fr
But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.
he’s just a baby boy
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The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.
climb that wall
Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm
this scene is supposed to be serious but i imagined tommy and jerry where jerrry hit jerry with a pan or smth and the thing bounces off of him wobbly 😭😭ok back to reading (i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)
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(i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.
this is claustrophobic
"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."
MY BABY TAKING CARE OF MY OTHER BABY
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”“You know why.”
can we please just fuck and make up
Without a word, he slipped off his shoes
this took me out white boy why do u have shoes in the HOUSEEEEE
“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”
rafe is such an action man we love 💕
"I owe you everything," he murmured.
screeching under my pillow 🦅
“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”
the way ur dialogue is like a movie SOMEONE GET GIGI INTO THE WRITERS ROOM STAT
Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.
SEXYYY TIMEEE 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻 i am so unserious
“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”
say it
"That night was different. We were different."
oh fuck off being a gentleman pls ✋🏼🤨
His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.
why is this so beautiful
"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."
ohmygod 🙈 i feel like i am interrupting something
"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”
BABIES ALL OF THEM !!!!!!!!!!!
Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."
put it in already 🙄 (kidding i love this)
"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.
ur making me blush
“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”
RAFE WHIMPERING I WONNN
"I can't believe you're real."
i swear to god if this turns out to be a dream i’m booking the next flight to ur city n murdering u in ur sleep (real)
final thoughts — this is so tender and sweet, i love this. i think i can offer no true words to have much i appreciate this series (also because i used it all up in the last review) but yes, like i said. compliments to the chefs for her dialogue and beautiful imagery. additionally, i wanna let u know that u give me so much inspiration. whenever i finish one of ur work, i'm like "i gotta get my ass up and work" because i always feel so motivated to write whenever i read ur stuff. <3 truly, t💘💘hank u for everything, i'm so excited (and sad... and horny...?) to see them come to a delightful end next part
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - six
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: domestic violence; blood; injuries; angst; smut;
word count: 7.6k
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You saw it on the news before Sarah told you.
Ward was officially in police custody.
They were calling it the biggest crime operation in years, plastering his face on every corner of every newspaper in the country. You saw it first on your busted-up TV, the morning news anchor's serious tone making the gravity of the situation clear before Sarah had a chance to call.
He was stopped.
The man who caused so much pain and chaos to everyone you cared about was finally behind bars.
But your relief came with a bit of caution.
This was just the beginning. There was still a trial to face, and you knew how slippery Ward could be. He had enough money to buy whoever he wanted, and the justice system wasn’t always as just as you hoped. Trials could take months, even years before he was sentenced.
JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope. You hadn’t seen him this ecstatic in years, the hallways of your home echoing with “let’s fucking go, baby!” as he made his way upstairs.
You were content.
Was there really anything to be happy about?
Sure, a bad guy was getting what he deserved, but the destruction he left behind was still very much there.
Months ago, when the police contacted you again, you had refused to testify. What Ward did to you was terrifying, but what he did to Sarah, John B, and Rafe? They were the true witnesses to his evil. You barely got a taste of his wrath. You were lucky. You wanted to be there, of course. Every person Ward hurt deserved all the support they could get. But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.
Rafe.
You hadn’t seen him since that day he dropped by, and it felt like he vanished into thin air. You didn’t see him around town, not at the beach, and he never stopped by your job. You started wondering if he’d been cooped up in that awful house all this time.
You couldn’t shake this feeling of worry, knowing he was stuck in the shadow of his dad’s mess.
Did he feel abandoned by you?
The thought of him, alone in that house, haunted you. You knew you should’ve reached out, found him as the town buzzed with the details of Ward’s arrest. More stories came out, each more horrifying than the last.
You almost gave in.
One evening, you found yourself riding past the Cameron estate, its looming structure a dark silhouette against the fading light. You almost went in, stopping by the gigantic gate, but then you saw movement inside and sped away on your bike.
You couldn’t do it. 
The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.
As you walked home from your shift as a lifeguard at the beach, the sun setting behind you cast long shadows on the sand. The rhythmic crashing of the waves had always been your favorite soundtrack. You’ve spent most of your life inside the water, it was in your nature. 
Growing up, surf and swimming were your outlets to get away from your violent father and deadbeat mother. The ocean was your sanctuary, a place where you could forget the shouting matches, the broken furniture, and the empty bottles scattered around the house. When you were out there riding the waves or just floating on your back, everything else melted away. The water had a way of washing off the grime of your home life, even if just temporarily.
Unfortunately, once you set your feet on the sand and walked home, that feeling always vanished.
Tonight, as you made your way home, the familiar dread began to creep in. Both your parents were long gone, but the sense of dread would never leave you, always attached to that stupid house.
Even though the yelling had stopped, and the bottles were gone, the walls seemed to hold on to the echoes of your past. The creaky floorboards, the dim lighting, the chipped paint—You hated it.
You had considered moving out many times, but something always held you back. JJ. Money.
When you got there, the air felt unusually still.
JJ’s truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot, which was strange, but not entirely unheard of. What really unsettled you were the closed windows. You always left them open to let the ocean breeze in, but now they were all shut tight.
You called out your brother’s name, hoping to hear his usual welcoming shout, but there was only silence. You shrugged it off, thinking he was probably out on the boat or lost in his video games.
You dropped your bag by the door and walked further inside.
"JJ?" You called again.
As you stepped into the living room, the sight of your father, Luke, froze you in place. 
He seemed worse than you remembered—disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and reeking of alcohol.
Luke had been gone for a year, no contact, nothing. But the memories of his drunken rages and the bruises he left behind were still fresh. He was supposed to be miles away. JJ made sure of that, paying him off and helping him get off the island.
Seeing him was the last thing you were expecting.
"You shouldn’t be here,” You warned him, trying to mask the fear rising in your chest.
He laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "I’m just here to see my kids. Is that so wrong?”
Liar.
You knew better than to trust him. “You need to leave. Now.”
His expression darkened, the smirk fading. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Watch me. Out.”
He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, “I just need a little loan.”
You tightened your grip on the edge of the doorframe, “No. You need to go, for good.”
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might listen. But then he took a step closer, and you could smell the stale alcohol on his breath.
“I’m not leaving without what I came for.”
“I don’t care,” You snapped, no longer the scared girl he was used to, “Get your ass out of my house before I call the cops.”
“This is my house!” He all but screamed, the veins in his neck visible.
“Not anymore,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and every fiber of your being screamed for JJ, wishing he was here, “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.
He took another step forward, his face twisted in anger. “You always were a stubborn little brat.”
“And you’re a piece of shit.”
He lunged. 
You barely dodged his grasp, stumbling back into the living room.
“Stay away from me!” you shouted, desperately looking for something to defend yourself with. 
Luke laughed, a dark, hollow sound, and came at you again. This time, he grabbed your arm, his grip painfully tight. You barely had time to react, instinctively raising your arms to block his advance. 
“You little bitch,” he snarled, pushing you against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you, but you fought to stay focused. You couldn’t let him win, not again.
“You’re going to give me what I want,” he hissed, his breath hot and foul on your face.
“No, I’m not,” you spat back, summoning every ounce of courage you had.
With your free hand, you grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it at him. The base connected with his head, and he stumbled back, cursing.
“Bitch!” he roared, holding his head. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but the sight only seemed to enrage him further.
He charged at you, knocking the lamp from your hands and pinning you to the floor.
You were panicking, resorting to kicking and thrashing, trying to throw him off. “Get off me!” you screamed, clawing at his face.
He slapped you hard, the force of the blow making your vision blur. “You think you can fight me?” he snarled, his hands wrapping around your throat.
Gasping for air, you felt the desperation claw its way out. You’d been here too many times. Your hand groped blindly on the floor, finding a heavy candlestick. Your mom’s candlestick. With the last of your strength, you brought it down on his head.
Luke’s grip loosened, and he slumped to the side, groaning. You scrambled to your feet, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
He tried to get up, but you struck him again, this time with all your strength. The candlestick connected with a sickening thud, and your father collapsed, blood pooling around his head.
You stood over him, panting, the weight of what you’d done sinking in.
But then, with a guttural growl, he stirred and reached for your ankle. You staggered back, your heart hammering. 
“Stay down goddamit!” you shouted, raising the candlestick again.
He pushed himself up, eyes wild with rage. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he spat, lunging once more.
This time, you were ready.
As he reached for you, you twisted to the side, bringing your knee up sharply into his stomach. He grunted in pain, doubling over, and you seized the opportunity to land a sharp elbow to his nose. The crack was satisfying, but brief; he roared and grabbed at you blindly.
You ducked under his arm, grabbing a chair and shoving it between you. Luke, half-blind with fury, kicked the chair aside, but it gave you enough time to reach the kitchen. You grabbed the first thing you could find—a cast-iron skillet.
He stumbled into the kitchen after you, a trickle of blood from his nose mingling with the sweat and grime on his face.
“You just had to put up a fight, huh? Just like her.” he snarled.
“Stay back,” you warned, brandishing the skillet, “I’ll fucking do it.”
Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm. He staggered, and you swung again, aiming for his head. The skillet hit with his temple, the sound echoing through the room and he collapsed, finally unmoving.
Oh fuck.
For a moment, the house was deathly silent.
You dropped the skillet, your hands trembling.
Kneeling down, you checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Relief and horror flooded through you simultaneously.  You almost killed him. There was so much blood. It stained the old carpet, the candlestick, your hands.
You backed away, your mind racing. 
What if he died? What if you’d killed him? Oh god, oh god. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted him gone, out of your life for good.
With trembling fingers, you picked up your phone, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on your shoulders. Your heart raced with adrenaline and fear, each breath feeling labored as you scrolled through your contacts. You needed help, someone who could make sense of the chaos now consuming your life.
The screen lit up with familiar names, but your vision was blurred with tears.
Without fully realizing it, your finger landed on a contact you hadn’t called ever before. The phone rang, and you kept an eye on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. It rang for only ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
“Maybank?”
“Rafe?” You gasped out, your voice breaking as you clutched the phone to your ear.
There was a brief pause, and then his voice came through, “Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?”
But you couldn't speak.
Hearing his voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, it was too much.
The fear, the relief, the chaos, all of it came crashing down, and your breath hitched.
You couldn’t think.
“Hey! Are you there? Talk to me!” Rafe's voice grew more urgent.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.
“Where are you?!”
You focused on his words, trying to match your breath to his timbre.
In. Out. In. Out.
It helped, if only a little. The shaking in your hands lessened, but the fear never eased.
“I think... I think I killed my dad.”
You looked at the bloodstained carpet, the unconscious body of your father still lying there, and the horror of it all washed over you again. 
“Are you home? Are you safe?”
You glanced around the living room, the familiar space now a scene of violence.
“I’m home. JJ isn’t here. I-I don’t know where he is.”
“I’m coming,” Rafe said firmly. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Rafe—” You began, but he cut you off.
“I’ll be there soon. Just hang on, okay?”
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself staring at the door, willing Rafe to appear.
What were you going to do? How were you going to live with yourself if Luke died? This wasn’t you.
You didn’t hurt people. You just wanted a little bit of peace in your life, some quiet. Why did things never work out the way you wanted them to?
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moments later, the door burst open, and there he was.
“Maybank?”
He called out for you as he stepped inside.
Seconds later, he was standing in front of you, scanning the room, analyzing the scene before him. He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. 
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he guided you away from the scene, his eyes lingering briefly on your father’s motionless figure.
“What happened?” He asked softly, leading you to sit on the couch. 
“He just showed up out of nowhere. He wanted money. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He got violent, and I... “
“It’s okay.”
His warmth helped.
But you still felt the overwhelming weight guilt eating you alive. The blood on your hands—it all felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.
“Have you called 911?”
You shook your head, lips trembling as you tried not to cry.
“Do you want me to?”
The thought of police cars and paramedics filling the house, made your stomach churn. The fear of what might happen if Luke woke up, or if he didn't, paralyzed you. It took you a second to realize he already had his phone out, pressed to his ear.
"I need an ambulance.”
He stayed on the line with the dispatcher, giving them your address and the details. Your ears were ringing, unable to make out exactly what he was saying. 
"They're on their way," he reassured softly. "It’s gonna be okay."
You nodded weakly, grappling with the aftermath. Rafe stayed close, seated next to you.
"They'll take him to the hospital," He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He'll get the help he needs."
"I... I didn't mean to..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.
Rafe’s hands griped your own, despite the blood coating it, "I know.”
The minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You just wanted it to be over.
When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafe guided them to Luke's unconscious form while you sat numbly on the couch. They immediately went to work, assessing his condition and preparing him for transport. Police officers soon followed, asking questions, and taking statements. Rafe handled most of the interaction, shielding you from the brunt of their inquiries. You watched in stunned silence as they worked.
He stayed close by, offering quiet reassurances and answering the paramedics’ questions.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally moved Luke onto a stretcher and carried him out of the house. Rafe followed them to the door, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before they loaded Luke into the ambulance and drove away.
He kneeled in front of you, “You can’t say here, okay? They called JJ, he’s on the mainland, but he’ll take the first ferry down here tomorrow.”
You nodded weakly, your body feeling as if it had been drained of all energy.
"Come on," Rafe urged, helping you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here."
He guided you out of the house and into his truck, the engine already running. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you.
Rafe reached over, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You slumped back in the plush seat, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to look at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
You didn't even register where you were headed until the truck pulled to a stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were at Rafe’s place.
Tanneyhill.
It felt odd, being there after so long, and under such circumstances. He helped you out of the truck, guiding you inside with a protective arm around your shoulders. 
"Sit down," he said gently, leading you to the living room. "I'll get you some water."
You sank into the expensive couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. It was weird sitting in Rafe’s home after everything that had happened.
He returned quickly with a glass of water, pressing it into your trembling hands.
"Drink," he instructed, sitting beside you.
You took a small sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. Rafe watched you closely, concern etched across his features.
"You need to rest," he said. "I’ll be right here."
"But I—"
"You need to rest," he repeated firmly, but not unkindly. "We can talk more in the morning.”
There was a part of you that wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help. You’d done this for years, alone.
And yet, here he was, offering you help. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe you just missed him, but for once in your life, you didn’t fight him. 
You nodded, letting him take you upstairs.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, noticing the blood still on your skin and clothes. "You can’t go to bed like this."
At this point, you were too tired to speak, simply following his instructions as he led you inside, guiding you to the bathroom.
"Here," he said, turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature. "Take your time. I'll leave some clean clothes for you right outside the door."
You nodded gratefully, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you.
The sound of the water running was comforting, a small sense of normalcy. You stripped off your clothes, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled your shorts off.
The sight of the dried blood on your hands and shirt made you want to burst into tears, again.
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water cascade over you, washing away the grime and blood. The heat soothed your tense muscles, and you stood there for a long time, eyes closed, letting the water work its magic. 
Slowly, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing away the remnants of your father’s presence. The soap smelled of lavender, and somehow you found yourself smiling for a second, realizing this was Rafe’s scent earlier. You washed your hair, the routine bringing you back to the present. As the water rinsed off, clarity slowly returned. You were still scared shitless, but that shower gave you a moment of peace. Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel and took a deep breath.
Rafe had left a pair of sweatpants, boxers and a t-shirt outside the door, just as he said he would.
You dried off and changed into them, feeling a bit more like yourself. They were a little big, but they were warm and comfortable.
They were Rafe’s. 
You opened the bathroom door to find him waiting in the hallway. He seemed relieved to see you and you hated yourself for making him worry so bad.
"Feeling better?" 
"A little," you admitted. "Thank you."
He nodded. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
He led you to what you assumed was a guest room, the bed already made up with fresh sheets. 
"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."
You hesitated, then slowly extended them. They were scratched and bruised, remnants of how fucked up your father was.
Rafe’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wounds, using antiseptic wipes to carefully remove the blood that you hadn’t been able to get rid of in the shower. 
“This might sting a bit,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the warning.
It made you wince, but you bit your lip, staying silent.
"I’m sorry," he said, noticing your discomfort.
"’M used to it. It’s okay,” You nodded, biting your lip as he cleaned the wound. 
The antiseptic burned, but you focused on Rafe’s face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his eyes as he wrapped your hand with practiced care. 
“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”
Rafe paused, his hands stilling for a moment.
“You’re not a mess.”
Your chuckle was short and stifled, “Right.”
His fingers continued their work, securing the bandage with gentle precision. “I mean it.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”
“You know why.”
Rafe’s tone was final, leaving no room for conversation as he finished wrapping your hand and set it gently in your lap.
“There,” he said, “All done.”
You sank into the mattress as he pulled the blankets over you.
He was tucking you to bed, so…lovely, so not like the Rafe you met years ago. It made your heart hurt. No one had ever cleaned your wounds. 
“C-Can you stay here?”
Rafe paused, turning from where he was adjusting the pillows, "I don’t think—”
“Please.”
Without a word, he slipped off his shoes, climbing into bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body against yours, his steady heartbeat, the scent of lavender and something uniquely Rafe—it all made you feel safer than you had in a long time.
"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."
You buried your face in his chest, feeling the tears start to flow again, but this time they were tears of release, of letting go. Rafe held you tighter, his hands gently rubbing your back, his touch tender.
He didn't say anything more, just held you. As the minutes passed, your breathing gradually slowed, matching the rhythm of his. The tension in your body began to melt away, your eyes grew heavy. 
"Thank you," Your voice was muffled against his chest. "For everything."
Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"Sleep.”
You snuggled closer, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, finally feeling at home.
You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the warmth of Rafe’s embrace replaced by the cold reality of the previous night’s events. The room was dimly lit, the morning sun casting soft rays through the curtains. You sat up, your mind hazy with sleep, and glanced around, your heart sinking as you realized Rafe was nowhere to be seen.
For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a dream, but the dried blood on your clothes, lying by the floor and the faint echo of fear told you otherwise. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. 
Your father, the struggle, the blood—Rafe’s comforting presence.
You felt an immense amount of guilt as you remembered how you had leaned on him for support after you cut him out of your life.
He was already dealing with so much because of his own father, and now you had burdened him with your problems.
You rose from the bed, the oversized sweatpants and t-shirt Rafe had given you hanging loosely on your frame. You made your way to the door, listening for any sounds that might indicate where he had gone. As you walked down the hallway, you heard a faint voice coming from the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Rafe’s voice, speaking in low, urgent tones.
You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. Slowly, you made your way towards the kitchen, the sound of Rafe’s voice growing clearer with each step.
“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”
He paused, listening intently. You took a step closer, peering around the corner to see him standing by the kitchen counter, his phone pressed to his ear. The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything you’d seen before.
“No, she’s fine,” he continued, “But I want to make sure she stays that way.”
You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat. Rafe was talking about your father, and the realization hit you in the face.
He was trying to protect you, even now.
“Rafe…” 
Rafe turned around, his eyes widening as he saw you standing there.
“I’ll call you later." He quickly ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket as he approached you, “Hey, you’re awake,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
“What were you doing?” you asked, “Who were you talking to?”
“Hmm?”
“Rafe,” You warn, too tired to play games, “Who were you talking to?”
He sighed, looking impossibly uncomfortable as you sized him up, “My lawyer. Getting a restraining order for you.”
The confirmation nearly made your brain split into two.
“What?”
Rafe hesitated, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you. Not that he even tried lately. He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, a gesture you recognized as a sign of his unease. 
"I'm trying to get a restraining order against your father."
"Why?"
His eyes bore into yours, a silent plea for you to understand, “Because you need one.”
Rafe was going to bat for you, putting himself in the line of fire to protect you from the man who had haunted your life for so long. Tears welled up in your eyes as the enormity of his actions sank in.
“I’m sorry.”
He ran a hand over his face.
“Maybank, what happened last night… it’s not something you should ever have to deal with. I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve—"
“You couldn’t have known.”
Rafe shook his head, "I should've been here.”
You walked closer, closing the distance between you. "Rafe, you don't owe me anything."
He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently cupped your cheek. His touch was familiar, comforting and you leaned into it, closing your eyes briefly.
"I owe you everything," he murmured. 
You let out a shaky breath, “Don’t say that.”
He tilted your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, “You think I’d be there if it wasn’t for you? Shit— Pretty, look around. It’s just me.”
Your heart pounded in your ribcage, the sincerity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.
You had spent so long building walls, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle everything on your own.
“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice laying his heart bare. “I’m okay, see?”
You reached up, covering his hand with yours, “I was so angry at you.”
“Baby—”
“You don’t understand,” you explained, voice cracking slightly, “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”
He drew you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into him instantly. 
"I deserved it,” Rafe muttered, his breath warm against your ear.
You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"You told me you were getting clean, that you were seeing a psychologist, and I-I wasn’t there.”
Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I was a train wreck, and I hurt you. You needed to protect yourself.”
“But I should’ve been there for you,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “You were trying to get better, and I just... walked away.”
“Jesus Christ Maybank” He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a groan, “Stop the waterfloods, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“Shut up,” You let out a genuine laugh, despite the ugly crying, “’M trying to apologize—“
“You don’t have to, baby,” He cut you off, shaking his head, “Not to me, or anyone else.”
His breath mingled with yours, his presence soothing you in a way you hadn’t felt in months.
Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.
You felt yourself give in to him, your hands gripping his shirt to make sure it was real.
You’d dreamed about him for too damn long to understand the difference. The kiss was slow, deliberate…loving. Each touch, each movement, was a reassurance, a silent promise that he was here, that he wouldn’t let go. 
As you broke apart, gasping for air, lips swollen and shining, Rafe rested his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged.
“Can’t believe you made me fall in love with a pogue.”
Oh.
You blinked, caught off guard.
“In love?”
Rafe bit his lower lip, “Yeah.”
You could see the anxiety roaring inside him. The way his shoulders seemed to squeeze back in, eyes dropping to your lips. 
"I never thought I'd fall for a kook," you teased gently, brushing your fingers lightly against his cheek.
“Don’t play with me,” He huffed, dropping his head against your shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin, “Fucking hell.”
You tilted his chin up gently, meeting his gaze with sincerity, “I mean it, Cameron.”
His eyes examined yours for a long moment as if confirming your words. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty.
His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was so different from the one before. You could feel the heat building between you, that undeniable chemistry pulling you together.
His hands slipped under your shirt, his shirt, the touch of his fingertips on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Rafe’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you dizzy with want.
“I need you,” your voice's breathless, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
He paused, lifting his head to look at you, blue eyes darken with desire.
“You’re hurt,” he gulped, “Last night—”
“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”
"That night was different. We were different."
You nodded, the memory of that night vivid in your mind. The urgency, the desperation, the way you had clung to each other as if you were drowning.
He hesitated for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over the bruise on your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you promised, pulling him back to you. “I trust you.”
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His restrain visibly slipped away as his lips found yours again as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you upstairs, to bed and then laying you down gently as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
Rafe hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt. You reached up, tracing the lines of his muscles, marveling at the way they moved under your touch. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands working on the buttons of your shirt.
The clothes disappeared in a blur, and then it was just the two of you, skin against skin, only underwear. His hands and lips were everywhere.
“Y’know how much I missed you?”
You sighed, a smile playing at your lips as you cupped his face, “Tell me.”
Rafe’s breath hitched, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of tenderness and desperation.
“Every damn day. Every fucking minute. I’d close my eyes and all I could see was you.”
His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your bodies aligning perfectly. 
“I’m here now.”
Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you steady. “You sure you’re okay?” 
You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “More than okay. I want this. I want you.”
He kissed his way down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat as they moved lower.
“I love the way you laugh," he purred against your skin, his lips trailing down your collarbone. "The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you care about. How strong you are, even when you don't realize it."
You shivered at his words, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tenderly. "Rafe..."
He kissed your lips softly, silencing you.
"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch.
"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”
Rafe's hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of your, his, boxers.
“I love how brave you are," he said, his voice husky, "How you face everything, even when it's terrifying."
He slid them down slowly, his eyes never leaving your face.
"Last night," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.”
You reached for him, your fingers tangling in his grown-out hair, pulling him closer. "I'm here," your lips brushed against his, "I'm right here."
Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."
You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I do. I feel it."
He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a desperate urgency. He took his time, worshiping you with every touch, every kiss, making sure you knew exactly how much you meant to him.
His lips found your breasts, kissing and teasing, his hands caressing your sides, your hips. You moaned, arching into his touch, your body trembling with need. "Rafe..."
He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a small smile playing at his lips.
"I love the way you say my name. Like it's the only word that matters."
He kissed his way down your stomach, his hands sliding lower, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. "I love the way you taste," he breathed, hot against your skin. "The way you feel."
You gasped, your body arching off the bed as his fingers found you, teasing, exploring. 
"Rafe, please..."
He kissed his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.
"I've got you. I'm here. Tell me if you want me to stop."
You shook your head, urging him on. "Don't stop.”
He kissed your hip bones, his hands gently spreading your legs wider. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your breath catch. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your inner thigh, his fingers lightly caressing your other leg.
When his mouth finally reached your core, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, tasting you.
The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Fuck you missed this.
Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as he continued his slow, deliberate assault.
He explored you with his tongue, each movement precise, intentional. He found a rhythm that made your head spin, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes. You moaned, your fingers tightening in his short strands, pulling him closer, needing more.
Rafe responded to your silent plea, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping your thighs harder. The pressure built, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you. He groaned against you, the vibration sending you even higher.
"Oh, Rafe," you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
He didn't.
He increased his pace, his tongue moving faster, his hands sliding under your hips, lifting you slightly to give him better access. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.
Rafe’s mouth never left you, his tongue driving you to the brink. You cried out his name, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking rapidly, and that was all it took. You shattered, not a wave, but an entire ocean of ecstasy crashing over you, your vision going white as the pleasure consumed you.
He continued his ministrations, guiding you through your orgasm, his tongue and lips never slowing, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.
When you finally came down, your body spent and trembling, Rafe kissed his way back up your body, his hands soothing the aftershocks with gentle caresses.
He hovered over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your heart swell.
"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.
Your bruised hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself back. He shifted, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You moaned into his mouth, your hands moving lower, wanting to touch him, to feel him inside you.
Rafe’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked again. 
He cared so much it nearly sent you into an emotional spiral again.
 “I’ve never been more sure.”
That was all he needed.
In one swift motion, he shed his boxers, and you took in the sight of him, hard and ready. He moved over you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He took his time, teasing you with his fingers, making sure you were ready for him.
You gasped, arching your back as he entered you slowly, his movements deliberate, and controlled.
God, you missed feeling every inch of him. 
He paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back,” you almost sobbed, your breath hot against his ear. “I want all of you.”
Rafe needed no further encouragement.
He began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. The pleasure built with every movement, the sensation of him filling you completely driving you wild. Your fingers dug into his back, your nails leaving marks as you clung to him, needing the connection.
He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, the sensation of his lips on yours amplifying the pleasure. His hands roamed over your body, one sliding under your back to pull you closer, the other tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he devoured you. You matched his rhythm, you bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Rafe’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his control slipping.
His words, the sound of his voice, sent shivers down your spine.
“Don't stop, baby- Oh, fuckkk. Please, d-don't stop."
"I won't," he promised, his voice a low growl. “Never stopping."
With those words, he lost the last of his restraint, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the slap of skin against skin that made you absolute feral for him, the desperate moans and gasps of pleasure.
You didn’t understand the sudden urge, but before you could think about it, you were pushing against Rafe’s chest.
“Your turn,” you murmured, flipping him onto his back with ease and straddling him. 
He looked up at you slightly startled, hands resting on your plush hips as you settled over him and you swore he never looked prettier.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, over your tits, cupping them gently. “Every part of you.”
You leaned down, his stubble grazing your skin, burning you most deliciously. You feel him rubbing against you, his tip touching your clit just right and you couldn’t help the satisfied moan that escaped your lips. You broke the kiss, sitting up and grinding your hips against his, feeling the heat building between you again.
“You like that?” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers trailing down his chest.
“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”
You reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. The sensation of him sliding back inside you was electric, drawing a gasp from both of you. You started to move, slow at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely.
Rafe’s hands roamed over your body, caressing, teasing, driving you wild. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours. “Ride me, baby. I want to see you come again.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, spurring you on. You increased your pace, rolling your hips, finding the angle that drove you both to the edge. Your hands braced against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “You feel so good inside me.”
He groaned, “You can’t be real,” his hands guided your hips, urging you to move faster. “This can’t be real—Shit, keep doing that.”
The pleasure built with every movement, your bodies moving together like they never parted.
You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension building, ready to snap. Rafe’s hands slid up to your breasts, teasing your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
“Come for me, baby,” Rafe urged, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”
His words pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body arching, your vision going white as the orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he followed you into ecstasy, his release filling you, pretty hisses and groans filling your ears.
You collapsed against him, both of you breathless, spent, and completely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips brushing against your ear.
You buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed by how loved you felt. You’d never felt anything like this before. His heartbeat echoed against your chest.
As you started to shift to look at him, you noticed he was staring at you with an expression that caught you off guard. His eyes were wide, intense and unwavering, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"What?" you asked softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the slight confusion.
Rafe blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. His hand reached up to gently trace your cheekbone.
"I can't believe you're real."
"Rafe..." 
He silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. "I love you, Pretty Maybank."
"I love you too.”
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sarah-yyy · 1 year ago
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thank you cheng yi for showing me the sluttiest game of 三二一看这边
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mostly-imagines · 6 months ago
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ur jason makes me want to RAHHHH like i just want to wash his hair for him :(((
lexi my girl you're speaking my language
the first time it happens he is so tired. he's just gotten back from patrol and there's blood and dirt all over his armor and his hair is a tousled mess. his shoulders droop as he removes his suit and he can barely keep his eyes open but he's so dirty he has to shower but he's not sure he has the willpower to push his body all the way into the bathroom.
but you, the saving grace that you are, start running a bath for him before he's even fully stripped. he honestly doesn't even register the sound of the water running and can only think about how much he wishes he could sleep right now. so you take his hand and guide him wordlessly to the bathroom, and while he's grateful for the assistance, he still doesn't realize what you're doing until he sees the bath, completely full and welcoming.
you sit on the edge of the tub and he leans back against you, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. if he were slightly more awake he'd feel bad about getting your shirt wet because he's too exhausted to hold himself upright on his own, but right now all he can think about is how relaxed he feels. relaxation is far and few between for him and was bordering on impossible before he met you, so the fact that you have him sitting here so vulnerable, it's basically the equivalent to handing you his life.
you nudge him to sit up a bit further so you can scoop up handfuls of water and get his hair wet without it spilling onto the floor. the warm water feels amazing against his scalp and he squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation.
you squeeze out two pumps from your shampoo bottle, something he was silently hoping you would do because he loves that it smells like you. you spend longer than you need to lathering it into his hair, just wanting to be sure that you can get him as relaxed as possible (you're quite successful)
he tilts his head back as you rinse the suds out of his hair, smiling to himself when you bring one of your hands up to help support the back of his neck. you decide you'll save him of suffering through the wait of the extra step of conditioner and you hand him your best, fluffiest towel to dry off.
you sit up on the bathroom counter as you blow dry his hair on the low setting, careful not to let it get too hot on his head. he palms at your thighs the whole time like a stress ball, trying to fight the urge to rest his forehead on your shoulder.
his eyes are basically closed as you guide him back to your bedroom, climbing onto the bed and pulling him in after you. he collapses his head onto your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. his body is completely lax and he's barely able to mumble out a thank you when he feels you press a gentle kiss to his forehead before sleep finally takes him.
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allurilove · 5 months ago
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Yandere Stalker x you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.
*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.
What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?
You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.
I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.
Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?
June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.
Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.
And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.
I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.
I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?
My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.
Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.
What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.
I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.
I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.
I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.
I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.
It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...
"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.
My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"
I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.
"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.
You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.
Why is this oddly arousing?
With one final shove I landed onto my face.
There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.
No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.
Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.
Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.
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katz-rambles · 4 months ago
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Aphrodisiac sex with Viktor has taken over my brain. So I'm gonna write about it 🤭.
My first Arcane fic!! Wooo!! I hope I wrote his character well!
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(nsfw, fem!reader, use of aphrodisiacs, alcohol mentioned, masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), dom-ish!reader, sub-dom!Viktor, Viktors a tease, friends to lovers?, I think this is it!)
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰
The night started out normal, enough. You went out with some friends for a nice girls night out filled with drinks and gossip, and it was an amazing night. You're relatively tipsy by the time everyone is ready to go home, it's about half past midnight, and the only thing you can think about is going to bed. That is until, about half way home. A sudden spark flows through your veins, creating a dull fog in your mind. Maybe you had a bit more to drink than you thought you did.
You've decided to walk a tad bit quicker to get home. A small apartment in the downtown of Piltover, it's a nice size and not too expensive, especially since you're sharing it, and the fact that there's only one bedroom inside just adds to the fact. You're just glad that Viktor doesn't mind sharing a bed.
You have to fumble with your keys for an embarrassing amount of time before you can actually unlock the door. It's silent inside the apartment, there's no sign that Viktor has already come home. Although, that wouldn't surprise you, ever since he and Jayce started to work on the Hextech, you've been seeing less and less of him in your shared apartment.
You push off a shower until the morning, it can wait a few more hours, it's too late. When you enter the bedroom, you almost scream when your eyes focus well enough to see someone sitting at the small desk in the room. So he is home, you rub your temples and sigh. He’s always staying up late. You don't want him to hurt his back, more than he already has, by being in such an awkward position all night. So you gently grab onto his shoulders to try and wake him up, his shirt has slipped and your palm rests on the bare skin, the warmth that comes from him could burn you. From such a simple touch that foggy haze fills your head once again, when Viktor is in a better position you'll get a drink of water. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and carefully shake him, a sad attempt to wake him. You would just carry him to the bed, you're strong enough, but you don't want to irritate his leg.
“Hey, Viktor.. are you awake?” You whisper, when you feel him stir. No response comes from him, but you're not going to give up any time soon. So this time you try a different method, you crouch beside him and lift up his head to try and see if he's awake, and he's not. Of course he's not. But you're determined to save his back from his hunched position. Each time you try something different and your hand makes contact with him, you can feel another spark flow through your veins and the foggy haze in your head gets stronger. Maybe this time you'll just splash him with ice cold water, but that'll probably give the poor thing a heart attack.
“Viktor, come on. You can't stay like this,” you groan and try to shake him awake, once again to no avail, and your feet are starting to ache from crouching in your heels for so long. At this point you're starting to give up, and you try to shake him one last time. Your hand rests on his waist this time, the other on his arm, you can feel the warmth of his body, along with his scent, a mix of oil, metal, and his shampoo that creates an intoxicating smell that you'll never get enough of now, from this position and, as much as you may hate to admit it, it sparks a dull throb in your core. “Vik.. please?” You shake him, trying to ignore the fire that's sparked inside of you, and this time he does wake up. A shallow gasp escapes from him as he pushes his head up and rubs the back of his neck. He lets out a low groan and looks over at you, the noise has you thinking about just how he would sound if you had your way with him.
This time it's his turn to shake you from your, not so innocent, thoughts, and he pushes himself up from the desk, now standing while you're still crouching. The position puts you at the perfect level that your thoughts start to wander again. “Just how much did you have to drink?” He chuckles as you stand yourself up, one of his hands reaches to press against your forehead, and it burns. You can't tell if it's him or you that's warmer, but the contact has a familiar pulse starting at your core. Just before he's able to say something you push his hand away from yourself. “Enough,” you reply, trying to shake the feeling away.
He scoffs and leans against the desk, and you can't deny how fucking hot he looks. His hair is messed up, his clothes have wrinkles in them, and his hands, god his hands, have traces of whatever he was using back at the lab on them.
You decide to take a shower now, maybe this way you can deal with the problem of your hormones raging like a horny teen. The warm water feels like it's been sent straight from heaven and down on your aching muscles, you can feel yourself relaxing under the water. You let your hand drift to your breasts and massage the flesh of one and then the other, feeling your nipples harden under your palm. Each touch you give yourself, you let yourself imagine that it's Viktor. You place your free hand over your mouth to silence your gasp when you push a finger inside your hole to find yourself dripping from such light touches. You curl your finger up to try and hit that one spongy spot inside you, and when you finally find it, you hope that your hand muffled the loud moan you let out. You slowly add another finger, wishing it was his instead of your own. You set a steady rhythm of your fingers, while grinding your swollen clit against your palm. You bit down on your hand in a sad attempt of silencing yourself, silently praying that the mix of your palm and the running water will be enough to not let your moans escape the bathroom. You start to speed up your fingers as you feel your orgasm get closer, desperately grinding against your palm for the friction you crave against your clit. Soon enough your orgasm crashes down on you, and you let out a loud moan. Now you're left panting from the aftershocks of your orgasm, yet even after that, the haze and pulse is still evident. Maybe you should just sleep it off.
The shower you had was relaxing and when you come out you find Viktor sitting up on the bed, with a book in hand. You crawl into bed beside him and lay your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes and relishing in the cold feeling of the fabric against your, still burning hot, skin. Even after a long shower the feeling hasn't stopped, and now being right beside Viktor, it's seemed to double. “Are you okay?” Viktor asks, when you lift your head up from the cold release of the pillow, all you can muster is a nod, if you open your mouth you're afraid you might just moan, you can feel his body heat from under the covers and his scent is evident in the bed. “I'm fine, Vik, think I just had a little too much to drink,” you laugh and rest your cheek on one of your arms, “but I'll be fine after a good sleep.”
Viktor sighs and lifts your face up, his hand holding your chin. He studies your face and you can feel your face heat up from his intense gaze. “Hmm, you don't seem fine. You're practically burning up,” he states. The way his accent sounds when he speaks has you clenching your thighs and hoping he doesn't see you doing so. He keeps your face in his hand for a few more seconds before he finally lets go, “maybe it was one of the drinks you had making you burn up.” He brushes some stray hairs out of your face and he shuffles so you're both laying down, he pulls your face closer to him and squints his eyes at you, before he can say anything else you pull him closer and kiss him, feeling his reciprocate the kiss just spurts you on more and you thread your fingers in his hair.
He rests a hand on the curve of your waist and when you feel it you pull away and feel yourself internally panic, “holy shit, I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue whats gotten into-” Before you're able to finish your scentance he pulls you back down and kisses you. His hand trails down your waist towards your thigh and he strokes the side of your thigh, occasionally giving the fat of your thigh a squeeze. “I told you. It was one of the drinks.” He mumbles against your lips and grabs your hip and pulls you closer, you take the hint and quickly climb on top of him, straddling his hips, and he groans when you grind down on his semi hard erection.
You pull away from his lips just long enough to tug his shirt off, quickly doing the same with your own, before connecting your lips again. You start to trail kisses down his jawline, towards his neck, leaving a kiss on his adams apple, and moving to the side of his neck to leave more kisses and occasional harsh sucks to form a mark, savouring the noises he lets out every time you do. Being careful to not hurt his leg, you move yourself down to trail your kisses lower and lower until you reach the hem of his pants. “May I?” You ask breathlessly and he chuckles, “you practically tore off my shirt, you think I'd say no now.” He scoffs, a teasing undertone to his words that causes the throb in your core to heighten. You pull down his pants and boxers to let him dick out, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a few strokes before you wrap your mouth around the tip, licking up the bead of precum that's settled there. He groans and tangles his fingers in the strands of your hair, not pushing or pulling but just resting his hand there. You start to bob your head, making sure to tease the tip, relishing in the noises he's making, a mix of delicious groans and whimpers leave his lips and it spurs you on more. He thrusts his hips up and the tip hits the back of your throat causing you to gag around him, his fingers gently tug on your hair and when you look up at him he lets out a loud groan. You use one of your hands to reach down and rub your clit, matching the pace of your fingers with the pace of your head. He thrusts his hips up again, this time a little rougher, and you know he's getting close. You swirl your tongue around the tip and he pulls your head off him. “No, when I cum, it'll be inside you.” He says, and you whine at the loss of friction when you pull your hand away from your aching clit. He pulls you to him and kisses you, savouring the way you taste and groaning when he tastes himself on your lips. You pull your pants off and straddle his hips again, lifting yourself up and lining his cock up. You give him a few strokes and slowly start to sink down.
The stretch is delicious and you moan when you've lowered yourself all the way. He brings one of his hands to your thigh and rubs it, you place your hands on his chest and start to lift yourself up. You whimper as you do so, adjusting to the stretch. A few seconds of just having his tip inside you, you lower yourself back down and repeat, slowly getting faster and rougher with each bounce. Soon you're riding him, one of your hands is on his chest, supporting yourself and the other rests on Viktors hand that's squeezing your thigh. You speed up a bit more and he groans when he feels you clench around him, his head falls back onto the pillow. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings it up and starts expertly rubbing your clit, for a second you find yourself jealous of his experienced fingers.
“Viktor! Fuck.. please don't stop!” You moan and clench around him, his hips start to rut up to meet your bounces. You both know that you're close and you know you aren't going to last very long. Your moans start to become more frequent and at a higher pitch, one of your hands leaves red scratches down his chest as you feel your orgasm get closer. Your nails dig into his skin and you bury your face in his neck, biting down on the sensitive skin when your orgasm hits you, your pussy pulses around his cock and with a few more thrusts up he's cumming inside you, his muscles tensing and he's moaning.
You both lay with each other for a few seconds before Viktor speaks up, “do you feel better?” He chuckles when you nod, you're still panting and you rest your forehead against his, a sheen of sweat on you both. You whimper when you push yourself up and feel his softening cock slide out of you, the globs of cum that drip out of you make you whine. He grabs your hips and pulls your pussy closer to him. “I can't have you dripping on the bed, we just changed the sheets.” He groans and pulls you so you're sitting on his face, his tongue lapping at your folds and tracing your clit. You can feel the vibrations of him laughing when you squirm on top of him, his hands have a tight grip on your hips, ensuring you don't move too much. You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as you start to grind your hips on his face. He ravages you, eating you out like a starved man. The curve of his nose bumps your swollen and sensitive clit deliciously and you pull on his hair at the feeling, when you do he groans into your pussy. He doesn't slow down or even hint at stopping as you can feel your third orgasm of the night creep up on you.
“Fuck! Viktor.. ‘m so close!” You whimper and grind your hips down on his face, the obscene slurping noises that come from him just fuel your arousal. You tighten your grip on his hair and your thighs tense around his face as your orgasm hits, your squirming as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He laps up all of your juices until you're trying to push yourself off from sensitivity. “There we go,” he sighs when you move off his face, he has a sheen of your arousal around his mouth and he licks his lips and smirks at you, “now you won't drip on the clean sheets.” You laugh and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you, you can taste yourself on his lips and it’s one of the best things you’ve ever tasted.
“How did you know it was the drink?” You ask him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with each word that leaves your lips. “Aphrodisiac, it was easy enough to figure out when you came out of the shower. You're not as quiet as you think you are,” He smirks when you groan at him. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, one of his hands rubs your back, drawing random shapes and figures, and successfully lulling you to sleep.
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luvyeni · 2 months ago
Text
ANNIVERSARY ,, 박종성
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pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ boyfriend!jay x fem!reader wc. 1.4k+
genre. smut
𓄷 includes ... pool sex , unprotected sex , soft sex, fingering , breeding kink, daddy kink
request. can i request a smut fic with jay, like they spend a romantic time at a luxurious airbnb and they go to the jacuzzi at night with a glass of wineee 👀
「 authors note ��� 」 this was cute , i really like this.
❪ masterlist! ❫
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dropping your bags at the front door; taking in the beautiful home with wide eyes, jay picking your bag that he got you for your anniversary, holding it in his hand as he followed behind you. “you like it princess?” you nodded, “like? i freaking love it.” you exclaimed. “oh my god how expensive was this airbnb?”
“don't worry about it baby; i told you as long as you're with me you'll never have to worry about the price of anything.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your lips. “plus it's our anniversary, you deserve everything you could ever dream of, okay?” you smiled, nodding. “good, now let's get settled, we have dinner reservations and i know how long you take to get all pretty for me.” his hands came down to your ass, giving it a little slap. “jay stop.” you giggled. “come on baby.”
“jay!” you shouted, trying to zip up your dress, groaning when you weren't successful. “jay come here!” the man entered the room, looking as handsome as ever in his black suit, his sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny arms. “yes baby?” he asked, taking in your outfit. “oh baby , this dress is stunning.” you pouted. “why is my princess sad on our anniversary?”
“my dress, i need you to zip me up.” he stepped behind you, his hands touching your back. “i got you baby, don't be sad.” he slowly zipped the dress up. “this dress is sexy baby.” he whispered in your ear. “i think we have enough time.” he kissed your bare shoulder. “no we don't.” you scolded. “we both know quickies aren't enough for you.” he chuckled, turning you around to kiss your lips but you hold his chest. “what now?” he questioned, eyebrow raised. “my lip gloss.” he scoffed. “fine, when you want a kiss I'm gonna hold it from you.” shaking your head at his childish antics. “like you could do that, let's go before we miss the reservation.”
you guys have an amazing dinner; filled with good food, laughter; and a whole bunch of love— and jay teasing you under the table, his hand slipping through the slit of your dress to rub your thigh, dangerously close to your ass, but he just pulled away leaving you wanting more.
you guys make your way home; the atmosphere still full of love, neither one of you wanted to call it a night. “how about we get in the jacuzzi?” jay said. “have some wine, and enjoy the rest of the night?” he held your heels in his hand, you nodded. “i’ll go change into my bathing suit.”
you took off your makeup from the night, putting your bathing suit on; the one jay loves so much, putting your hair back before making your way out the jacuzzi where jay was lighting scented candles, two glasses of your wine already sitting on the side. “you didn't have to do all this.”
he turned around, eyes darken as he took in the sight of you in that bikini he loves so much. “you like?” he smirked, nodding. “i fucking love baby.” he bit his lip. “let's get in.” you sat down on the side, slowly getting into the pool, sighing as the warm water hit your skin. “feel good baby?” jay got in, floating towards you, holding you in his arms. “it feels really good.”
he handed you the glass of wine, massaging your wet skin. “good.” he whispered in your ear. “i want you to just relax.” he kissed your neck, you sighed taking a sip of his drink. “let me take care of everything.” his kisses made your stomach erupt in flames, he kissed your shoulders. “j-jay.”
you couldn't take it anymore, between him teasing you in the restaurant and his burning kisses, you had reached your limit and he could tell. “you know if you want something baby then you have to ask for it.” you felt his hands toying with your bikini string, you whimpered. “what is it baby?”
“please touch me.” he untied the string of the top, pushing it off your shoulders, letting it float on the water, he turned you around; gently pushing you against the edge of the pool, running his thumb along you hardening nipples. “such pretty tits princess.” he brought his lips to your perky nipples, engulfing his mouth around them, sucking softly on your buds. “oh fuck jay keep doing that please.” you ran your manicured fingers through your boyfriend's hair.
he suck on your nipples, switching back and forth between your boobs, his hands slipping under the water to unite the strings of your bottoms, lifting you up wrapping your legs around his waist. “ja-jay i need more.” he finally pulled away from your now sensitive boobs. “what do you need baby?”
“please touch me.” he hummed. “touch you where baby?” you whined, he grabbed your cheeks. “don't get bratty now baby, where do you want me to touch you?” you took his hand, guiding down into the water, to your cunt. “here.” he cursed, biting his lip. “you want me to touch this pretty pussy?” he ran his thumb down your slip. “yes.” you moaned.
“good girl.” he pushed his fingers inside of you. “fuck you're so tight.” he grunted. “such a pretty pussy, love it so much.” he kissed your lips. “jay please fuck me.” you moaned, he smirked. “you want me to fuck you baby? make you cum all over my cock?” you nodded. “words baby.” he added another finger. “yes jay, please fuck me.”
“fuck princess, cum in my fingers first.” he added another finger, using his thumb to rub figure 8s on your clit. “cum for me.” he felt your legs twitching as you came. “good girl, cum all over daddy's fingers.”
both your bottoms and top left abandoned, floating in the water, jay finally letting his hard cock out of his trunks, your hand snuck into the water, grabbing his length stroking it up and down. “fu-fuck baby , keep doing that.” he moaned , leaving little marks on your chest and neck. “keep stroking daddy's cock, mmm fuck gonna stuff you full of his cock.” he cursed. “jay.” you moaned, guiding his cock to your entrance. “please fuck me.”
he slipped the tip of his cock into your hole, both of you moaning as he slowly filled you up. “that's it baby.” he moaned. “be a good girl and let daddy fill you up.” the water moving back and forth as he fully seethed himself inside you, pulling out; slamming back inside you. “oh fuck jay!”
the water splashing back and as he fucked you; luckily the houses were further away from each other so no one could hear you screaming for him to fuck you harder , or deeper. “fuck jay im gonna cum again!” he cursed, biting your shoulder. “cum , cum all over my cock.” he groaned as your cunt fluttered around his cock , your arms wrapping around his neck , he held you close as you came. “good girl, you can give me one more right?”
pulling himself out; he flipped you around; your top half exposed to the nighttime air, pressing against you, his cock rubbing against your folds, he pushed himself back inside you, holding your waist before plunging himself fully inside you. “fuck baby , fucking love you so much.” he grunted , grabbed any part of you that he could, your ass bouncing against his pelvis. “gonna give you a baby.” you moaned out , cunt gripping his cock like a vice.
“you like that?” he slapped your ass the stinging from the water made you scream. “fuck you full of my cum, give you a pretty baby.” he hissed. “you'd make such -fuck- such a pretty mommy.” you nodded dumbly. “please , fuck please.” he pulled you up and flush again his chest. “jay im gonna cum.” you moaned, he bit your neck. “cum baby , cream daddy's cock.”
you gasped out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came , he fucked up into you vigorously, using you to get himself off. “fuck im cumming.” he cursed. “shit.” he came, holding you close. “i love you much baby.” he pulled himself out of you , lifting you up, holding you in his arms. “I love you too jay.”
he kissed your lips, before holding your legs getting out the pool, you yelped. “don't drop me.” you laughed. “i won't baby I won't.” he held you, making his way into the house. “let's go to bed.” he smirked.
“we have two more days here and im gonna make sure you leave here with my child.”
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©LUVYENI
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mayasikeu · 3 months ago
Note
Can write something about Spiderman Jungwon pls
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The night air was frigid as you walked through the dark alleyway. The breeze carrying the faintest scent of rain. But it wasn’t the weather that sent chills down your spine, it was the eerie presence you could feel behind you.
There he was, Spiderman, or as everyone else knew him, Jungwon. His eyes pierced through your soul like a jagged knife as he watched you walk by.
The flickering street lights casted a dim yellow glow over his sculpted physique, every muscle being visible beneath the skin tight suit that he had on. His lips curled into a playful smirk under his mask.
“You shouldn’t be here, Y/n” Jungwon murmured.
“Oh my god. You scared me” you said, bringing your hand up to your chest.
“My bad, that wasn’t my intention” Jungwon laughed.
The rain began to pour down faster, cool droplets coating your skin, but all you could feel was the heat from Jungwon’s body as he hung upside down in front of you.
You took a step closer, “Are you stalking me or something?”
“Just doing my job”
“You’re amazing” you said sarcastically.
“Some people don’t think so but it’s nice to have a fan.” he teased.
“Do I get to say thank you this time?”
“For what?” Jungwon asked.
“You’ve saved my life so many times.”
“You do have a knack for getting in trouble.” he joked playfully.
“Or maybe you’re just in love with me” you whispered.
You partially pulled his mask up, revealing his lips that were slightly parted as he breathed heavily.
You reached out, your fingers trembling from the cold as they brushed against his sharp jawline. He didn’t bother to utter a word or try to stop you, daring you to make the first move.
The sensation of kissing him upside down was exhilarating. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours with a passionate rhythm. You could taste the cold rain in the kiss, the water running down your face.
Your hands slid up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing softly against his cheeks. He responded immediately, his tongue darting out to tease the entrance of your mouth. You part your lips slowly, allowing him in fully.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathing hard.
He licked his lips, tasting the remnants of your kiss that still lingered, your hands were still cradling his face, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“You should go home now, it’s getting late” he murmured before jumping down and standing back up on his two feet
A few moments of silence went by and the anticipation became more unbearable as your body ached for his touch.
Suddenly, the rain had stopped and his lips crashed onto yours yet again, all the leftover tension released into that one kiss. His hands gripped onto your hips and slid up your back.
You broke the kiss while panting heavily, your lips tingling. He looked down at you with sultry eyes, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
Before you could say another word, he lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned you against the brick wall. Your fingers dug into his muscular shoulders as he grinded against you. “I need you,” Jungwon growled, “Right now.”
His lips left yours for a moment, trailing sloppy open mouthed kisses down your neck, his teeth slightly grazing your skin, making you whimper at the feeling.
His hands found their way under your shirt, the feeling of his rough palms on your bare skin made you tremble.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispered
“Yes”
note: ive been taking so long on the requests bc ive had zero motivation so this isn’t that good im really sorry
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solbaby7 · 10 months ago
Text
Tripping Over You
pairing: azriel x reader
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warnings: swearing, some typos, sexual tension, clumsy reader, just fluff
summary: Your lack of situational awareness has a certain Shadowsinger stumbling to maintain his patience.
If Azriel was being perfectly truthful, he didn’t like you much.
It wasn’t personal but in the time he’d known you, he found you to have an annoyingly bad habit of being completely unaware of your surroundings; always just barely dodging being flayed by some disaster.
Call it bad luck or just plain carelessness but Azriel fucking hated it.
His fingers twitched when he’d caught you in a pile of your own limbs on the kitchen floor, a knife held loosely in your hand and a sheepish smile on your face as if you hadn’t almost just shoved the sharp blade in your neck because you’d been too preoccupied to clean up the little puddles of water you left around. “Give me that,” He grumbles with a scoff, carefully snatching the blade from your hands.
Unintelligible words drip from his tongue and you watch wide-eyed, slowly rising back to your feet as the shadowsinger quickly finished the sandwich you were attempting to make, slicing it four ways with a huff and sliding it in your direction. “Thanks.”
“You need to be more careful.”
More of that went on for weeks.
Short, snappy comments on your inability to step out of bed without the possibility of breaking a bone, soothed over by Azriel just completing whatever task for you. His behavior should’ve deterred you; the deep scowls and gruff voice, the tension in his shoulders that formed when he noticed you in a room—but at least he always noticed.
Always had a hand curling around your arm when you tripped and was the first one to pull you out of the water after wandering off a little too deep. Water soaks your hair, dripping into your eyes and you’re weightless when he tugs you over to the more shallow area, seaweed sinking in your toes. “Why are you even in the water if you can’t swim?”
“I can swim,” It comes out choppy, cheeks red from all the coughing but Azriel can’t help the feeling that burns in his belly when you peer up at him, eyes glittering and full lips quirking at the corners. “Just didn’t realize how far out I’d gotten.”
He looks positively exasperated by your passiveness, chest rising and falling quickly with each breath and you’re no better than any of the other women who dared stare at the spymaster long enough to take in the true expanse of muscle that lies beneath those leathers. Rippling pectorals, biceps that flexed deliciously as he spoke; he’s more animated than you’d ever anticipated, usually offering nothing but perfect silence—or the occasional sarcastic comment towards his brothers. You’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, eyes wandering down his form and he abruptly stops talking when he sees the way your eyes catch down his abdomen, mouth pouty and hair dripping down your shoulders. “Are you even fucking listening?”
“Not really.”
“Unbelievable,” The view when he turns is almost as amazing as the front, perfect dips and ridges of his back and broad shoulders enough to have you forcing your eyes away before you drooled enough to fill the lake three times over. Inky hair shines under the sun, hazel eyes snapping to you over his shoulder and shadows slink out to you in seconds. They push at you, urging you forward until your toes sink in dry sand.
Azriel lets you go ahead first, partially because he wasn’t a hundred percent confident you wouldn’t try going back—but mostly he just wants a better look at the bathing suit you’d slipped into. It’s nothing overtly scandalous but attention drawing all the same, skinny ties and bottoms that show enough to have his fingers twitching with want at his sides. “You’re staring,” Rhys informed, a bare elbow nudging into Azriel’s ribs.
“Because, I just don’t get it,” He’s referring to you, tripping twice over nothing on your return to the girls under the shade, your knees scraped from a tumble and a scarred hand reaches to cup the back of his head when Amren swiftly stabilized you. “How come when Amren finally decides to make friends it’s with fucking Bambi of all people?”
“She’s sweet,” Rhys shrugs, violet eyes regarding you no more than a sister but your beauty was undeniable. “So, she’s a little clumsy—big deal.”
“A little clumsy,” Az repeats, sounding genuinely annoyed and the High Lord can’t push back the growing smirk that tugs on the corners of his mouth. “She’s a liability, she’s going to get herself ki—“ The words die on his tongue, a low sound pulling from his chest when Azriel is forced to send a shadow out to stop you from slicing your fingers clean off with the dagger Mor had handed over to pry open the wine bottle. “Mother above.”
The air was fresh, a cool breeze sifting through quickly drying clothes under the sweltering sun and Rhysand could admit he’d seen his brother through many emotions. Anger, grief, disappointment, happiness—but never such mother hen like attentiveness; hazel eyes tracking your every move like a hawk. “Are you interested in her?”
“Are you insane?”
Rhys shrugged, bare shoulders going golden under the suns rays. “That answer varies depending on who you ask but that doesn’t really answer my question.”
“She’s—“ The words get caught in his throat, muscles tensing under the discomfort that grows under his skin because Azriel hadn’t even thought about that. Sure, he’d been slightly more involved than he’d originally planned but you just kept getting yourself into such trouble; he had no choice but to stay close behind to make sure you stayed safe. “There’s no way—“ Heat begins to warm the top of his ears and the shove he gives is less than gentle. “Oh, fuck you.”
Rhysand doesn’t seem phased, a teasing smile on sharp features and Azriel doesn’t miss the way the High Lord keeps trailing his eyes back to Feyre, her fingers raking through your hair until most of it was braided out of your face and decorated in an assortment of little flowers. You’re soft—a little too sweet and that obliviousness Az always grumbled about was a little noticeable in the way you allowed things to just happen around you. Fey deciding to do your hair, Mor topping off your wine before you’d even gotten halfway through, Nesta snatching at the book you’d had tucked in your bag and her eyes widen when she flips to a random page, a red tinge flushing her cheeks.
But the book shuts too quickly for even Az’s shadows to sneak a peek.
“You’re allowed to be happy you know,” Rhysand doesn’t look; doesn’t even let his voice get too loud in fear that his friend would shut down or disappear and never bring up a single personal thing again. “If you like her then just act on it. Mother knows we all could benefit from a little more happiness.”
There’s a pause and Rhys can’t get a good read on what Azriel’s thinking. “I appreciate that but that’s not what this is. She’s just a danger to herself and others—it’s better I keep an eye on her myself.”
A knowing smile on the Lord of Darkness’ face. “Right, of course.”
It only gets worse from there and while Azriel doesn’t catch onto it right away—Rhysand was definitely behind it. Conjuring up wisps of darkness to curl around your ankles and trip you up, forcing the shadowsinger to rush to your aid and somewhere along the way he ditches his sneer for just a soft frown. “Sorry,” You sheepishly allow yourself to be steadied, acutely aware of the large hands splayed at your hips. “I think I’m still a little tired.”
“I bet,” Azriel’s quick to retort, hands slipping away entirely too soon and the ghost of where his touch once was yearned for more. “Heard Amren and Mor have been introducing you to Rhys’ liquor collection.”
At the reminder your hand raises to press to your temple, a low grunt sounding under your breath and he finds your crankiness kind of adorable. “Yeah, they’ve been breaking me in.”
He swallows audibly at the word choice, hazel eyes stealing a glance at you from the very corner of his vision but you make no indication that you were intending being flirtatious—it still doesn’t stop the blood from rushing to his cock. Giant wings bristle behind him and Azriel can’t stop staring at your night clothes; a tiny pair of shorts and an oversized shirt that hung off one shoulder. Your legs look soft; bare toes padding against the floor until you’re perched on the stool, eyes still a little hazy with sleep but you don’t make a move to cook anything—not with Azriel around.
He would’ve stopped you if you tried anyway and then he’d start complaining about you not being able to touch the appliances after forgetting to turn the burner off one time—or four.
But, who was really counting?
It’s instinctual the way he grabs for some fruit and a bowl, washing and carefully cutting them; peeling bitter citrus off and leaving the sweet parts before sliding the blow over. “Eat.”
You don’t hesitate though you do sigh softly, feet swinging. “Did Amren hire you to like take care of me or something?”
His brows furrow, confusion growing at the question, at your tone, at the embarrassed expression sinking into such pretty features it makes Azriel’s stomach twist. “No.”
But you only nod, frown still present while you spear at fresh fruit. “Are you sure? I know you’re the High Lords spymaster and Ren told me how you like to keep an eye on things.”
Ren?
Since when did Amren allow nicknames?
“—mentioned how she’s had you look after a few prized possessions for her before.” You seem different to him somehow, more guarded and stern than he’d ever once seen you and it sends a shiver up his spine. Intrigue grows, the picture of you he’d been painting of some scampering baby animal was beginning to seem furthest from the truth with such contained fire behind your tone and suddenly he wonders exactly where Amren even found you.
“I have before, yes.” The kitchen remains silent; probably not for much longer with the steadily rising sun and the smell of hot food beginning to waft in the air as Azriel sauntered about the kitchen—chopping here and adding spices there, cracking an egg or two before cranking the heat up a little higher to cook the potatoes faster. “And no, she didn’t ask me to watch you.”
“Then, why are you here?” You clear your throat, seemingly aware of how it comes off and he can’t resist a smile when you look genuinely confused. “Why are you always here?”
“I’m still not a hundred percent sure about that yet but,” He doesn’t face you when he answers, shoulders stretching out a plain black tee with carefully cut out lines on the back nearly six inches in diameter to make room for the base of his wings. They hover high behind him, flexing and shifting with his arms as he moves and you find yourself a little transfixed—a trained killer preparing you breakfast in his pajamas. “—you looked like you’d been stumbling your way through life for a while,” You’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of care in his voice; hair mussed and pillow lines fading in the left side of his cheek and your eyes catch on the low hang of his sweatpants. “Getting passed off from one hand to the next, just allowing life to happen to you however it came at you and I guess—“ He lets out a deep breath, the words seeming to be a struggle to muster up, to say out loud and you stay quiet in fear of scaring him off. “I suppose I could relate to what that felt like once upon a time and I figured you could benefit from a little support.”
You’re quiet longer than he’d have liked and Az can’t tell if the uptick in your heartbeat is a good thing or not but his shadows urge him to turn—to look. You seem skeptical at first, eyes boring into him so intensely he felt like you were stripping him bare, pulling back his ribs and holding his heart in your hands; judging his character and his choices and the soul that resided somewhere in between.
It’s a struggle to remain calm, the cool disposition that Azriel had thought he’d mastered crumbled to nothing before his very eyes. Scarred hands take their time fixing your plate, piling on the protein and making sure to add the fruit he’d caught you wiggling over the last time.
“No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.” Someone’s awake, you can hear their footsteps against the glossy floors and a steaming piece of bacon is pinched between two fingers when you lean over and press a kiss to Azriel’s cheek; just a gentle pressure an inch or two away from his mouth but you might as well have just punched him right in the gut with the way it takes his breath away. “Thank you.” He’s still reeling when you continue, humming in appreciation over your food and his fate is sealing when you smile brightly at him. “You know, you’re not so bad when you aren’t being a prick.”
“Tolerable enough to let me take you out sometime?”
“I’m surprised you know that’s a thing,” You tease over your food, wisps of cool darkness careening through your hair and resting at your thighs like a napping feline. “—considering you’ve taken to just following me everywhere.” There’s a blush burning on the curve of his ears, shadows ghosting past your ear as a distraction and distantly you wonder if Azriel could feel you the way they could. “Tripping me up with these things just to have an excuse to put your hands on me.”
“Wait, I haven’t—“ There’s a smug cough sounding in his brain and the spymaster’s gaze cuts to the corner of the room. A smirking Rhys still shirtless from the night before just lingering in silence, silently urging, mentally pleading with Az to just take this slice of happiness. He sucks in a soft breath, heart thudding against his chest and his voice is barely above a whisper. “If you knew why didn’t you stop me?”
He can smell your conditioner when you turn to face him, palms braced on the stool beneath you and you lean forward, eyes staring up at him and your toes graze at his knees. “Because, I like your attention.” More rustling and the unmistakable sound of Cassian’s booming laugh and you’re jumping off the stool, food finished and plate dropped off in the sink and Azriel can’t help but think that’s the most balanced he’d ever seen you as your hips swish a little on your way out, words thrown over your shoulder before you disappear. “And yes, I would like to go out with you sometime.”
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bruisedboys · 1 year ago
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SPIDERHEAD, drabbles ─── send in a thought/headcanon you have about a character and I’ll expand on it in a drabble!
miguel o’hara secretly loves physical affection. like he can act all hard as much as he wants, but that man is putty in your hands once you start playing with his hair🙄🤨
um absolutely yes.
miguel o’hara who acts like a total hardass but is actually super touch deprived and desperately wants you to play with his hair or touch him with your soft, pretty hands at all times. at first he’s too proud to ask you and never does, but you figure him out pretty quickly. how he sighs into your mouth when he’s kissing you and you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. how his head goes all heavy in your hand when you cup his face with your palm. from then on, you make it your mission to be as physically affectionate as you can (without being annoying).
you give him regular massages, because let’s be honest, he works out way too much and also he’s super tense all. the. time. you’ll get him to sit against your legs and you’ll just work away at the knots in his shoulders and upper back and he just melts. he’s all sighs and groans and ‘mhm, right there, baby’, and you’re happy to be his (very unprofessional) masseuse, especially when he’s making such pretty sounds.
and boy does he love it when you play with his hair omg. he’s half asleep against your shoulder after a long day, and you bend your elbow where your arm is curled around his shoulders to twist a lock of his hair around your finger. and since he has the nicest, softest, thickest hair ever, soon enough your fingers are buried in it, and miguel could honestly fall asleep right then and there, it feels so nice.
one time you actually convince him to let you wash his hair and his immediate reaction is that he was not prepared for how amazing it would feel. you’re super gentle and thorough with it too, scrubbing shampoo into his hair until he’s basically got a head full of bubbles, rinsing it out with hot water (scalding hot btw. he likes his showers practically lava type heat), and then conditioning it, too, just as carefully as before. afterwards his hair is the nicest is ever been and miguel is the most relaxed he’s ever been.
also!!! his holy grail is when your hands go exploring while he’s kissing you. he just loves it when your drag them up his chest, when you push your fingers under the collar of his shirt, his pulse racing under your touch. when you slide your hand up to the back of his neck and bury your fingers in his hair, when your hand falls to his waist and dips under his shirt to skim across his bare skin. it’s his absolute favourite thing. like. ever.
join the celebration!
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jolalibrary · 4 months ago
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Hello 👋🏼 I’ve been a fan for such a long time and I absolutely love love love the way you write Joel so I thought maybe you’d like some thots I’ve been having recently about him? It’s been super hot where I love and I can’t stop imagining Joel taking me for a swim to cool off in the summer… except it’s the apocalypse and we don’t have swimsuits 🤭 the way that man would STARE because he’s not seen a naked lady in a long time and the way he wouldn’t think twice about lying me down in the wet grass near the river and fucking me too… so yeah… hope that’s not too much 👉🏻👈🏻
firstly, thank you for the lovely compliment because me? really. eeep. but also, god anon, this SPOKE to me, because I've been thinking about my outbreak joel a lot. i blame my conversations with @thetriumphantpanda (also an amazing joel writer btw), so this spoke to me. and maybe this was supposed to be a drabble and now this is... this.
it’s different in the sun, in the day
pairing: joel miller x f!reader wordcount: 1.2k (oops, i don't know what happened) warnings: outbreak. smut. lots of talk of him thinking smutty things too. you can paddle in water. and there’s no bathing suits in the outbreak so naked dipping only.
He’d been serious when he told you that under no circumstances would the two of you be stopping. 
Even as the heat battered both of you, as you grumbled and the temperature made sweat drip and linger in places that chafed. Even as he felt himself growing more uncomfortable, angry, an ignited fury. Beads of it continued to fall from the ends of his hair, landing on his neck before descending under stiff clothing, pooling where his belt sat. 
And then it came into view. 
Crystal-like, shimmering—an oasis in the centre of death and overgrown. A heaven in a sea of green and brown hell. 
Joel hears the question before you let it slither from your tongue.
Feels it. Even before your hand wraps around his elbow, pulling and tugging attention to him that you already have. 
He’s just not good at letting you know that. At telling you. 
At first, it had been a refusal on his part; now, it’s a normalcy he’s come to like, over welcoming softness that he thinks will disrupt the careful equilibrium the two of you have. 
Before he’s even finished nodding, you’re pushing past him. Feet sliding from boots, socks peeled from skin as you expertly hang them on a dangling branch. He can only adjust his hand on the bag strap, glancing around, observing, looking for shifts and listening for branches snapping. Trying to not be more visibly annoyed than he already feels. 
Because this wastes time, this fantasy. 
They haven’t gotten as far as they have by dipping into them, into allowing themselves reprieve in the middle of nowhere. 
So he looks out, observes the area. Because it’s what he does, survive. A thing that feels second nature to him now, but hadn’t always. 
When he comes to rest his eyes on you again, you’re bare. Not a piece of fabric covering any part of you as your back is to him, the curve off your ass lit with golden sun and shadows from the trees it peers through; your back, illuminated by honey-yellow, showing the healing silver that’s permanently etched into your skin.
He can remember when it was a wound.
When it was as stubborn as you about healing. All sore, weeping—causing him nothing but anguish he had to shove down inside of him until it roared out and cracked skulls or broke jaws. 
You don’t ever pull a face when he comes back with split knuckles, the same way you don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s staring. He suspects you know he is, would be, forever will be as long as air can find his lungs and he has the sheer audacity to remain alive. 
It’s a view watching you dip into the water, finding you turn when your waist is submerged, your lower limbs swallowed by murky blueish green, leaning back as his throat dries at your bare skin, at the curves of your breasts, at the way—even from here—he can see how hard your nipples are. Can imagine them between his teeth, can even hear the sounds you make, how breathy they are. 
Just like he knows how they feel, how weighty they are.
He’d only reminded himself a handful of nights ago, under the moonlight, hearing you mewl and whine as he slotted himself between your thighs. Pace slow, but deep, sounds of skin slapping, heavy breaths and the sleeping bag rustling all he could hear as he took you apart, as you took him apart with each of your fucking moans.
He thinks it’s different in the sun, in the day.
There’s something more beautiful about you, ethereal, making it seem hard to wrap his head around that he’s seen you survive, seen you both brutish, violent and evil, as well as heavenly, lustful and willing. 
In the night, the two of you are hidden by shadows, by night. There’s no hiding in the day, finding beauty in all its naked form swirling around in water he wishes was translucent.
His fingers flex, jaw tightening. A part of him battling to trudge into the water fully clothed, pull you to the shore and remind himself of how messy he can make you. Have the water seep directly from your skin to his as he pulls you flush, as he places your thighs on either side of his hips and hear that hiss you do when he sheathes fully inside of you.
He never kisses you, but he does hold your hand. Likes pinning it to whatever surface he finds himself pressing you against—clutching the hand that takes inside his own, feeling you grip him tightly in all the places you can before you convulse, shiver and shaking as he fucks you through it.
Joel wishes he could push the back of your hand into the soil now, coat the earth in your conjoined hands as his hips thrust into you. Leave a mark in the thing still living from both your hands and his knees.
Fuck, he wants to make your breasts bounce from the force. Not used to you this naked, this free. He’d be able to see all of you as your mouth contorts, wondering whether you can say his name or not—  
“You joining me or what?” 
He considers it when you shout. Ticks his jaw from side to side as he sees more of you vanishing under the water until it’s only your neck and head safe from the watery clutches. 
Joel does his own calculations, chews his tongue as he drops his bag from his shoulder—placing it close to yours. Resting it. Staring at the mess of your stripping before flicking his gaze to you. 
He thinks if he waits long enough, you’ll emerge out, dripping, beads of water shimmering. That you’ll come to get him. Retrieve him. Fingers sliding around his hand as you tug and plead only with your eyes, because there’s only one situation where you beg him. Where you plead. One that is usually blanketed by darkness, sometimes in abandoned houses, against mattresses with springs that dig into his knees, or under stars. 
You don’t squander that word on anything else. In the same way, he has only said please to you once. You had been sobbing—all silent and broken, moving with each prod of the needle as he aimed to keep you living, keep you with him.  
A splash of water brings him back, droplets of it up the shore as he hardens his gaze at you, seeing you standing, much closer to him, your chest glistening with water as you slide a smirk over your lips, no evidence of regret. 
“Take off your damn clothes, Joel.” 
It’s sterner than normal, more forceful. There’s no teasing edge to it, that comes from you hingeing at your waist, threatening to splash more water his way. 
It’s then he decides, as he raises a hand to begin popping his buttons undone, that as much as he’s been picturing pressing your spine into the ground, your ass cheeks into the mud, how he'd wrap your legs around his waist, he suspects that you have been imagining something entirely different.
Like him on his back. Your hand pinning his to the ground, as you sink down on him, taking every single inch of him. 
And he thinks maybe this is a fair trade, all of it.
Lifting his chin pointedly as he begins to let his skin be free from his layers, exposing his chest, his stomach, and the rest of himself. Because the look in your eyes, as he does so, is something that makes blood rush to his cock. Makes him hard as he strides, makes him want, need, desire—all the while making him realise that he’s not just wanting someone to whine for him, to moan his name or ask him to go harder. He wants you. He likes having you around. 
Under the sun, under the moon and everywhere in between. 
But, as he reaches you, as he grasps your hip and forces you flush to him, Joel decides that’s another thing he won’t admit. 
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hi hi ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ☀︎︎
Can I request a lil ficlet please 🥹
I would like the following prompt: Cuddling before falling asleep in your arms with their lips parted so you give them a peck
But but can I add secret relationship trope and they’re in the BAU jet?
PS: your fics are just amazing and I love them.
Cuddles and Cameras - Spencer Reid x GN Reader (Fluff w Fade to Black)
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Spencer practically dragged me across the threshold to the hotel room. His hand, ready to hold me, reached out into the dark hotel room. I flipped up the light and was pushed up against the wall before I could even kick off my shoes.
"Ooof! Spence!" I shouted, my voice soon muffled by Spencer's lips.
"Sorry, baby..." Kiss on the lips Kiss on bottom lip. Kiss on the top. Kiss on the lips. "I couldn't help myself. It's hard for me to have to stay on good behavior."
I chuckled, my hands reaching up to tug Spencer's hair. He smiled, letting me kiss his neck and down to his collarbone. I grinned as I kissed Spencer. His skin was practically shivering from holding himself back.
"Yeah? I didn't think that I was tempting."
Spencer rolled his eyes, his mouth hovering above my in an upturn smirk. His eyes danced with playfulness as he watched me.
"You have no idea how hard it's to keep us a secret." He whispers. I licked my lips and felt the ghost of Spencer's lips against mine. I was tired of clinging to this small, secret, hidden touches. I wanted him in daylight, not under the covers.
Spencer tugged down my windbreaker, leaving me in the stiff work clothes. "I am putting on PJs right away." I announced.
"It's fine, sweetheart. I wasn't planning on letting you be dressed for much longer."
"Sex then room service?"
Spencer knelt on the bad, grabbing me by the waist. He took my cheeks into his palms and brought me so close. His skin was fire against my cheeks. And then he kissed me.
Kissing Spencer was like breathing. I needed it like I needed water. I drank him in, reeling in the way his mouth molded to mine. Against me, Spencer was liquid heat, quick and malleable.
We stopped, Spencer catching his breath and me slowing the pounding of my heart.
"Perfect." I whispered, kissing Spencer again and pushing him down onto the bed. I wasn't sure if I took off his shirt first or if he took my off my pants. It didn't matter who peel away the first item of clothing, I had never bared my soul more than to anyone besides him. Never stood more naked than I did with my clothes on than I did with Spencer Reid.
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After that night in the hotel it seemed like something between us shifted. For a while now, we danced in that limbo. I knew that I loved Spencer. And Spencer knew that he loved me. And we both knew what the other knew.
Yet, I had to contain myself as we sat next to each other on the jet. Spencer had already started and finished two books. I, on the other hand, did not finish anyway near two books. I couldn't even read a single sentence without my mind wondering.
And I knew Spencer well enough to understand that he probably felt similar. Two books in about 4 hours is akin to my measly half a paragraph in Spencer's eyes.
"They're sleeping." Spencer said. He didn't look up from his book. "Hotch is facing the same way as us. He can't see us. And even if he did....I don't care."
I don't care.
God. How I wished to have heard that for the last couple of months? Instantly, I folded myself into Spencer. He sat with his legs out stretched straight on the jet seats. I laid between his legs with my side cushioned against his front. Spencer laid the blanket on top of us and when his arms wrapped around my torso, I melted.
As good as he was a sex, Spencer was between during the moments after. He was incredibly sweet. We both hated the mess that came with it so nearly nine months into our relationship we had our after routine completely memorized.
"This is nice." Spencer whispered. He breathed my scent; between staying at each other's places a couple days a week each we started just use each other's products.
"It is."
He kissed the top of my head. "Go to sleep."
"You, too." I countered. "Don't let me make your leg numb." I requested, shifting so I wouldn't hurt him.
"It's fine, babe. Just move up, I want to be able to see your face anyway."
I scooted up, shifting so Spencer and I were face to face. We were so close that I could feel the shadow of his smile. I eclipsed it with my own. He kissed my forehead and I, in moment of sleepless delusion leaned further and kissed him. It wasn't a polite kiss. It was the sort of kiss that is hidden in hotel rooms, shelved away from nosy coworkers and professional regulations. It was the kind of kiss that made me see the world in full color.
How would I go back to black and white. If I had to choose, then I would choose Spencer, hidden, but in Technicolor.
We must've fallen asleep soon after because the next thing I remember was blinding white flash. My eyes were shut, but the flash of white was enough to pull me from a sleep. Spencer's arms didn't release me so he was still sleeping.
"Morgan...?" I croaked. The image before me cleared up. Derek Morgan's white smile beamed. He practically was flashing me and Spencer's cuddled forms his dazzling pearly whites.
"Penny G!" His voiced sounded positively delighted. I sat up and realized that the flash of white was an old crime scene camera. Why that was still included in our packs when the Bureau went digital two years go, was beyond my job role.
"Did you take a picture of us!?" I shrieked, breaking free of Spencer's grip and leaping from the seats. "Derek! Is that the picture! Derek!" Spencer must've woken up somewhere in between me screaming and shouting.
The rest of the team, notably our boss, Hotch's head snapped up.
"Morgan! Y/L/N!"
"It's okay." Spencer's hand rested on my shoulder.
We backed down, hearing the stunning level of "dad" in Hotch's voice. Morgan dropped the picture against my lap. It was one of the photographs that you could see the image almost right away. Slowly, an image of Spencer and I appeared, sleeping and intertwined. Our faces were so close that our lips nearly touched.
Emily and JJ exchanged glances that said more than words could ever. Morgan's eyes shifted from mine to Spencer's as he figured that this wasn't the first time we had feel asleep like this.
"You two. My office, but Monday. I'm too tired to deal with this, even though we all knew." Hotch explained. He shut his computer, decidedly finished with work for the day. His eyes closed as he got as comfortable as one could still wearing a suit and tie.
"Penelope is going to be heartbroken." JJ said, loud enough for the entire jet to hear. I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. Spencer and I didn't similar like a weird notation. There wasn't a time in my life that felt more right and I felt more like myself than the time I've been with Spencer.
"JJ-" Spencer started. Derek's eyebrows narrowed and even Hotch opened a single eye. Emily practically backed away. Clearly the entire team was Team Us. Spencer's thumb brushed against my lower back.
"She's not gonna know whose side of the weeding ceremony to sit on."
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f14fun · 4 months ago
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big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 3
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synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories
smau + prose (2.7K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ profile | masterlist | prev ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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I was going to be on a bloody yacht.
He led me down a winding path that skirted the beach, the sound of the waves growing louder in the stillness of the night. As we walked, the anticipation built between us. I could feel the warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his grip, and it was incredibly reassuring.
"Are you serious?" I asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement in my voice. "You have a yacht?"
"Well, it's not exactly mine," he admitted with a grin. "But a friend of mine owns it, and he owes me a favor."
I laughed, shaking my head in amazement. "This night keeps getting better and better."
He chuckled softly, the sound blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves. The moonlight danced on the water's surface, casting a surreal glow around us. As we continued along the path, a soft breeze played with my hair, carrying the salty scent of the sea. Each step seemed to deepen the connection between us, making the night feel like a secret we shared.
The path curved gently, revealing a secluded cove where a sleek yacht bobbed gently in the water. Its polished hull gleamed under the moonlight, and the sight took my breath away. "Wow," I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the elegant vessel. It was like something out of a dream, a luxurious escape from the ordinary world.
He grinned at my reaction, clearly pleased with the effect. "Impressive, isn't it?" he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Just wait until you see the view from onboard."
Together, we descended the wooden steps leading to the dock. The yacht swayed slightly as we stepped aboard, the deck cool beneath my bare feet. Soft music played from hidden speakers, creating a soundtrack to the night's unfolding magic.
He led me to the bow, where a plush seating area awaited us. It felt like stepping into another realm, far removed from the worries of everyday life.
We stood together at the dock, looking away from the marina and towards the water that was calming rippling underneath the gaze of the shining moonlight.
My white dress swayed in the wind, my lips glossy under the moonlight, and his hand tightly wrapped around mine. Every once in a while we would sneak glances at each other, while we thought the other one wasn't looking.
Biting my lip slightly when he would look at me, I felt nervous and hot underneath his gaze. Squirming, he grabbed my chin.
"Y/N, don't do that do your lips," he trailed off, speaking softly to me as his thumb gently rubbed my chin. Looking up at him through my lashes, everything around us suddenly seemed to fade away.
"Okay-," I dwindled off, as his gaze sudden detracted from my eyes, and trailed down to my plump lips.
In that moment, he seemed to get closer. Putting my hand on his chest, I could hear his faint heartbeat get louder and pump faster. He was nervous. I, made him nervous.
He was softly exhaling, as was I. I could only hear our breaths, slowly getting faster in that moment. Oscar's head titled, and in that moment, I knew what was about to come.
Grabbing my jaw, he made direct eye contact with me. "May I kiss you, Y/N?" My heartbeat fluttered, and I swear I could feel something else beating as well.
"Of course," I softly replied. The moment I gave consent, he dove right in. Lips connecting, time seemed to stop.
One of his arms tightly gripped my waist, the other gripping my jaw as he was softly kissing me. He was so gentle, yet so passionate and loving. Groaning into my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck, I felt his neck muscles flex. Playing with his soft brown hair, my freshly manicured champagne-colored chrome nails gently scratched his scalp.
We kissed passionately for what seemed like hours. Though it must have been a few minutes of bliss in reality. I was the first to part, and noticed that my lip gloss and lipstick was smothered all around his lip area.
Chuckling I wiped it off and showed him the red Dior lipstick stain on my thumb that had resided on his cheek.
"Looks like I've been marked," he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned closer. "Should I be worried about leaving a trail of evidence?"
I laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Depends on whether you want to be found," I teased, unable to resist the flirtatious banter that seemed to come so effortlessly between us.
He grinned, his gaze lingering on mine. "Maybe I don't mind being caught," he replied, his voice low and filled with suggestion.
I chuckled, enjoying the playful dance of words between us. "Oh, so you're admitting to being a wanted man?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion.
His grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Only if you're the one doing the chasing," he whispered, his voice sending a delicious shiver down my spine.
I leaned back slightly, feigning contemplation. "Hmm, I do have a knack for tracking down elusive characters," I mused, my tone teasing yet tinged with genuine interest.
He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the stillness of the early morning. "Then I suppose I'm in trouble," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
I pretended to study him with exaggerated seriousness. "Well, you did lead me down this path," I pointed out, gesturing around us at the yacht and the tranquil sea beyond. "Seems like you've left quite a trail."
He nodded, his expression turning more earnest. "It's a path I'm glad you decided to follow," he said softly, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of my hand.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Me too," I admitted, my gaze meeting his and holding steady. "I guess we'll just have to see where it leads."
He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against my earlobe as he whispered, "I'm hoping it leads to more moments like this."
My heart skipped a beat at his confession, the intimacy of the moment both exhilarating and comforting. "I think we're off to a pretty good start," I replied, my voice filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity.
Feeling even more bold, I chuckled softly, feeling a rush of playful energy between us. "I must admit, you wear it well," I said, holding up my thumb to show him the faint smudge of lipstick. "But you might want to be more careful next time."
He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Noted," he replied, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation. "Though I have to say, it's a small price to pay for such delightful company."
I felt a blush creep into my cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through me like the first rays of morning sunlight. "Flattery will get you everywhere," I teased, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.
His gaze softened, the playful glint giving way to a more sincere expression. "I mean it," he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against mine. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."
The sincerity in his voice touched me, making my heart flutter in a way I hadn't expected. "I'm glad," I replied honestly, meeting his gaze with an openness that surprised even myself. "Tonight has been... unexpected, in the best possible way."
He nodded, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Sometimes the best moments are the ones we don't plan," he mused, his tone thoughtful. "Like finding a lipstick stain on your cheek."
I laughed softly, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht's hull. "Who would have thought a little makeup mishap could lead to such a moment?" I said, shaking my head in amused disbelief.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Maybe it's a sign," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That we're meant to leave a mark on each other's lives."
His words sent a thrill through me, the romantic notion echoing in the quiet space between us. "I like the sound of that," I admitted, feeling a sense of anticipation building between us like a rising tide.
He smiled, a softness in his eyes that made my pulse quicken. "Me too," he replied, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. "So, what do you say we continue this adventure? See where it takes us next."
I nodded, a surge of excitement and curiosity coursing through me. "I'd like that," I said earnestly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the serendipitous turn of events that brought us together on this yacht, under this moonlit sky.
As the moon held its vigil in the night sky, casting a silvery sheen over the yacht's deck, we settled into a cozy corner under a blanket. The soft glow of candles created an intimate atmosphere, illuminating the desserts before us—a plate of tiramisu and crème brûlée, their decadent aromas mingling with the salty sea air.
He poured us each a glass of champagne, the effervescent bubbles adding a touch of celebratory cheer to the serene scene. "To unexpected adventures," he toasted, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he handed me a flute.
I smiled, clinking my glass against his. "To seizing the moment," I replied, savoring the crisp taste of the champagne as it tickled my palate.
We shared the desserts, trading playful banter and lingering glances that spoke volumes in the quietude of the night. Each bite of tiramisu melted on my tongue, rich and creamy, while the crème brûlée offered a delightful contrast of smooth custard beneath a perfectly caramelized crust.
Between bites, we talked about our dreams and aspirations, our favorite travel destinations, and even our shared love for late-night escapades. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by moments of laughter and the occasional shared sigh of contentment.
"I guess we've hit the apex of the evening," he quipped, his tone teasing yet filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I chuckled softly, enjoying the playful reference. "Well, if this is the apex, I can't wait to see what the straightaway looks like," I replied, matching his playful banter with a hint of flirtation.
He grinned, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of my hand. "Trust me, the view from the podium is even better with you by my side," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
The warmth of his words sent a shiver down my spine, mingling with the gentle breeze that caressed our faces. The night around us seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the two of us in our private world aboard the yacht.
Leaning closer, our gazes locked in a silent agreement of shared desire, we savored each bite of dessert as if it were a testament to the sweetness of this moment. The occasional brush of fingertips, the soft exchange of smiles—it all spoke of a connection that went beyond mere words.
As the yacht rocked gently on the tranquil waters, I found myself drawn to him more than ever, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. This night, filled with laughter and stolen glances, had woven a tapestry of intimacy that I never wanted to unravel.
"I'm glad you invited me," I confessed softly, breaking the silence that had settled between us like a comforting embrace.
His gaze softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't imagine sharing this with anyone else," he admitted, his fingers entwining with mine in a gesture that spoke volumes.
"And hey, if things go really well, I hear they offer Australian citizenship with every marriage," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned closer.
I couldn't help but laugh at his playful suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sense of humor. "Are you trying to bribe me with dual citizenship now?" I quipped back, a playful twinkle in my eye.
He chuckled, his fingers gently squeezing mine. "Hey, it's just a perk," he replied with mock seriousness, his smile widening into a grin that lit up his face.
I leaned closer, teasingly narrowing my eyes at him. "Well, I'll have you know, my love can't be bought with citizenship perks," I teased, my tone light but tinged with warmth.
His grin softened into a look of genuine fondness. "Good to know," he murmured, his gaze lingering on mine as if trying to capture every detail of this moment.
The night air around us seemed to hum with possibility, as if the universe itself was conspiring to weave our destinies together. I found myself drawn to him in ways I couldn't fully articulate, my heart singing with a melody that resonated with his presence.
"But if you keep feeding me dessert like this," I added with a playful wink, "you might just convince me otherwise."
He laughed softly, the sound like music to my ears. "Consider it a delicious bribe, then," he replied, his eyes sparkling with affection.
We watched as the moonlight danced on the surface of the sea, casting a spell of tranquility over us. Time slowed to a leisurely pace, allowing us to savor each moment, each stolen glance, and each shared smile.
As the clock struck midnight, marking the transition into a new day, we remained on the deck, wrapped in each other's warmth and the promise of what lay ahead.
And as we eventually bid farewell to the night, reluctant to let go of the magic we had found, I knew that this evening had woven our hearts together in a tapestry of hope and possibility.
Hand in hand, we returned to the shore, our laughter echoing against the quiet backdrop of the ocean. The night had been a gift—a testament to the beauty of chance encounters and the transformative power of shared experiences.
And as we looked towards the future, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement, knowing that our journey together had only just begun.
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 233,152 others
yourusername: ignore the elephant in the room (twitter)
view comments
user1: alrrr, aesthetic queen
user2: not them using their own drunk paparazzi pics in their post, it's giving iconic shit
user3: I AM NEVER FORGETTING THOSE TWEETS THEY WERE FUCKING HILARIOUS GIRLLL
user4: nahhh nawt the "pls pls pls gimme ur babies"
user4: IN TEARS. 😭😭
user5: she must've been HELLA DRUNK to post those
user6: oscar too LMFAOO
user7: i know she just woke up feeling like shit, checked her phone, then wanted to kys
landonorris: those tweets...
landonorris: pr wants to talk to both of you...😭
yourusername: oh god oh god i'm in trouble
yourusername: little old me, a content creator online did the single handedly worse possible thing not to do: drunk post
oscarpiastri: LMFAO GET WRECKED🫵🏻🫵🏻
landonorris: what are you laughing about ur probably in trouble too 🫵🏼
user8: LMAOOO lando got their ass
user9: he said "check urself" before u check her
oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 212,655 others
oscarpiastri: she's too cute, so i asked to be her boyfriend
view comments
yourusername: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend" 🧡🧡🤤🙌🏼😇😍🥰🥰🥰😘
user1: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"
user2: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"
user3: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"
user4: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"
user5: wow mate, you really think you're winning in life
oscarpiastri: i really am. she was doing donuts on my dick last night
yourusername: OSCAR DELETE THAT BEFORE ADMIN SEES SKSKKSKS
oscarpiastri: well... you didn't deny it
landonorris: oscar jack piastri. you are going to give admin another fucking heart attack.
mclaren: 👁️👁️🕵🏼
user6: LMAOOOO GN
this comment thread has been deleted
user7: DID YOU SEE THE DELETED COMMENT THREAD LMAO
user8: i hope someone screenshotted ts and put it on twitter lol
user9: ughhh i love them so much
landonorris: congrats guys!! mawmaw yi pawpaw 🧡🫵🏼
liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername
yourusername: can i be your girlfriend, oscar? 🧡
oscarpiastri: can i be your boyfriend, y/n? 🧡
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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾
480 notes · View notes
allgoodnamesrgoneee · 4 months ago
Note
can you do a Jude Bellingham fic where he won a match and he comes home blows our backs out? 😝
Winner
Masterlist
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You and Jude celebrate after his match
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 4.3k
Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), rough sex, multiple orgasms, dom!Jude, sub!reader.
Cheers erupt all over the Stadium as Jude scores the winning goal.
You barely believe it as you’re jumping up and down in your seat, screaming Jude’s name. You’ve been waiting for this moment all game, watching Jude give it his all out on the field. You’re sitting in the VIP section of the Stadium, wearing Jude’s jersey. You feel the energy of the crowd around you, and you can’t help but let it consume you. You can’t get enough of it.
The game has been intense from start to finish. Both teams are fighting for points to climb up the league table, and you know how much Jude wants it for his team. How hard he's worked for it.
You watch him as he runs around on the field, doing his signature celebrations as his teammates rush to congratulate him. You can tell he’s already thinking of you. He’s looking in your direction, his eyes scanning the crowd. It takes him a moment to find you, and when he does, he smiles at you.
“Jude! Jude! Jude!” The chant rings out around you as he waves to the crowd . You can barely make him out through the sea of people in between you, but you know he’s looking at you. He always does after scoring.
He makes his way off the field to be greeted by his teammates and coaches, and reporters surround him for a post-game interview.
You watch him talk for a bit, not really listening to what he’s saying. You just love hearing him speak and watching him move. You’re so proud of him. When he’s done, you see him look around until he finds you again. He waves at you as he makes his way towards you, and you jump out of your seat to run and meet him. He meets you halfway and pulls you into a hug.
“I did it,” he says, voice laced with disbelief as he kisses your forehead.
You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his neck.
“You were amazing,” you tell him, squeezing him tighter. He laughs into your hair, sqeezing you tighter.
“Come on,” he tells you, pulling you away and taking your hand in his. “I’ve got to celebrate with the guys.”
You smile at him and follow him to the locker room. You can hear the music playing and the guys cheering and chanting before you even walk through the door.
The locker room erupts when Jude walks in, the guys picking him up on their shoulders and chanting his name. You stand off to the side, watching with a big smile on your face. You love seeing Jude get the recognition he deserves. Finally.
He’s finally set down on his own two feet again, and he pulls you to him. He’s drenched in sweat and dripping with water, but you don’t care. He leans down and kisses you on the lips causing a loud chorus of whistles from the other guys. They’re used to him bringing you to the locker room after games by now.
He holds you to his chest, and you can hear his heart beating loudly against your ear. You can’t help but feel a little turned on by the way he’s holding you and the way he smells.
“Let's go. I need to you get home,” he says, kissing your neck. You feel your heart rate pick up.
“don't you want to celebrate with the guys?” you ask, pulling away to look at him. His face is serious, and he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive. He looks at you with the kind of intensity that makes you shiver. He can read your body perfectly.
“I’ll celebrate with them later, I want to celebrate with you now,” he tells you. You can hear the want in his voice, and you can’t help but feel a little turned on. You know that look on his face, and you know what it means. He wants you bad.
"Okay," you say, looking at him. He smiles at you, pulling away.
"I'm going to get out of these clothes,” he says, leaning in to place a peck on your lips. You nod at him, turning to walk away. “Be right back,” he tells you. You turn to watch him go, your eyes following his every move as he walks away. You can’t help but appreciate how hot he looks in his uniform.
It's not before he comes back to find you making small talk with some of the guys. You can tell he’s in a hurry, and you don't blame him. You can't wait to get home either. You're feeling the excitement of the win all over your body. The energy of the stadium still coursing through you.
You're out of the locker room and in the car in no time, driving home in silence. You can feel the tension radiating off of Jude, and you know he’s thinking about how he’s going to fuck you the minute you walk through the door.
His hand is on your thigh the entire drive, and you can feel the heat of it radiating through your skin. You’re squirming in your seat, feeling yourself getting wetter the closer you get to home. You feel him glance over at you every so often, and you can't help but feel a little giddy from the excitement.
You love having Jude all to yourself, especially after a win. He's still pumping with adrenaline, and you know he can't wait to release it.
Yeah, you're not walking tomorrow.
The drive felt like an eternity. You're practically running out of the car when you pull into your driveway, Jude close behind.
You're barely in the house when you hear the door slam shut behind you, and you feel Jude pull you to him. You don't even get a chance to turn around before you feel his lips on your neck, sucking on your pulse point. You let out a moan as he bites down, and he laughs against your skin.
"You're so fucking sexy when you’re cheering me on,” he tells you. You can feel his hands sliding up your sides, and you shiver as he kisses up your neck. “I couldn't focus on anything else.”
“Jude." you moan. You’re already so wet and he’s barely touched you.
“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” he asks, running his hand down the side of your body. You lean back into him, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on you. “You’re driving me insane.”
You turn in his arms and look up at him. You can see the want in his eyes.
“I love watching you play,” you tell him. He smiles at you and leans down to kiss you. His lips are soft on yours, and you can’t help but moan into him.
“I love it too,” he says, smiling. You kiss again and pull away. He follows you to the kitchen, and you pull a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. You had secretly bought it yesterday because you knew he would win. He laughs when he sees it.
“You’re so sweet,” he says, smiling at you. You smile back and pop the cork, pouring him a glass. He holds it up in a toast. “To the win,” he says.
“Cheers to the win,” you say, clinking your glasses together.
You both take a drink and set the glasses down on the counter. He pulls you to him again and kisses you, harder than before. His lips move against yours in a passionate kiss, and you can’t help but moan into him.
He’s got one hand on your waist and the other in your hair, holding your face to his. He pulls away and smiles at you.
“You’re so perfect,” he tells you, kissing your lips again. He pulls away and takes your hand, pulling you towards the stairs. “Let’s celebrate.”
He’s got that look on his face again. The look that says he’s going to fuck you stupid. You shiver at the thought of it.
You follow him to your bedroom, and he pulls you to him. His lips are on yours again, kissing you softly. You let him move your lips against his, enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours. You pull away and look at him. You can see the want in his eyes, and you can't help but feel a little turned on.
"Jude," you moan.
"Come here," he says, pulling you to him again. You kiss again, and he pulls your jersey off. You're standing in front of him in a pair of shorts and a lacy black bra. He lets out a groan as the sight. He's in love with them.
"You're so sexy," he tells you, running a hand up your side. He unhooks your bra and pulls it off, cupping your breasts in his hands. You let out a moan as he kneads them, and he leans down to kiss your lips.
He moves his lips down your neck and over your shoulder, kissing the tops of your breasts. You feel him move his hand down to your shorts, sliding a finger under the waistband. You can’t help but shiver as you feel him pull your shorts off.
He looks at you again and smiles.
"You look good in nothing," he tells you, running his hands up your sides. You can’t help but laugh as he pulls you to him again.
You kiss again and move towards the bed, and you feel Jude push you back onto it. He climbs on top of you and kisses down your neck, moving his way down your body. You can feel him trailing kisses across your collarbone and down to your breasts. You let out a moan as you feel his lips on your nipples, sucking them into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around each one, making them hard.
You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the feeling of him touching you. You can feel him moving down your body further, kissing your stomach and down towards your hips. You let out a moan as you feel him settle himself between your legs.
You feel him kiss up the inside of your thigh, and you shiver at the thought of him putting his mouth on you.
"I can't wait to taste that pretty pink pussy," he tells you. You can’t help but blush at his words.
"Please," you moan. He looks up at you and smiles before moving his head between your legs.
You let out a moan as you feel his tongue flick out against you. You can feel him licking up your slit, and you can’t help but move against him. He holds your hips still and continues his assault on your clit, licking circles around it. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each pass, and you know it won't be long before you cum.
"Fuck," you moan as he pulls back and looks at you. "You're so wet for me," he tells you, smiling. He moves his tongue back to your clit, flicking it against you. You can feel your muscles tensing up and you know you’re about to cum.
"Jude," you moan, moving your hips against his tongue. He moans against you, and you feel him pull you closer to his mouth. You let out a loud moan as you feel your orgasm hit you, and you can’t help but move against his tongue. You feel him licking up your cum, and you let out a satisfied sigh as it washes over you.
He pulls away and smiles up at you.
“Good girl,” he tells you, leaning up to kiss your lips. He pulls back and stands up, taking off his shorts and boxers. You can’t help but stare at his cock, standing at attention. God has favorites.
You lick your lips and move to sit up. He smiles at you and moves forward, guiding your head towards his cock. You open your mouth and take him in, letting out a moan as he fills your mouth. You can feel the precum dripping onto your tongue, and you swallow it down.
You move your mouth up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue around the tip. You feel him grab your hair, moving your head back and forth on his cock. You let out a moan as you feel him hitting the back of your throat, and you can’t help but gag on him.
“Good girl,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you there for a second and pulls you off. “You’re so fucking good.”
You look up at him, smiling, and you can see the lust in his eyes. He moves forward and pushes you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you. He kisses you hard, and you can feel him moving his hips against you. You can feel his cock sliding between your legs, and you let out a moan as it rubs against you.
"I've been waiting for this all day," he tells you. You moan again as he continues to rub against you, sliding up and down your slit. You can feel him getting harder and harder against you, and you know he’s ready.
You can’t help but move against him, trying to get him inside you. He smiles at you and moves back, lining up his cock with your hole. just when you think he's about to push in, he pulls back and smiles at you, slapping his cock against your clit. You let out a moan and look up at him.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your neck. You let out a moan as he continues to rub against you.
“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck me.” He smiles at you again and continues to tease you.
“Beg me,” he tells you, moving his hips faster. You can feel the friction building up between your legs, and you know you’re going to cum again soon. You’re getting desperate for it.
“Please,” you beg, moving your hips faster. You can’t help but moan as he continues to tease you. You feel him laugh against your skin, and you know he’s enjoying this. Bastard.
“Please what?” he asks, kissing up your neck. You can feel his lips on your pulse point, and you can’t help but shiver.
“Please fuck me,” you beg. He smiles again and continues to rub against you. “I can’t take this.”
“I know,” he tells you, laughing again. You feel him move his hips faster, and you let out a loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over you. You feel him laugh again as he continues to rub against you, prolonging your orgasm. He feels your muscles tense up as you cum, and he pulls away. He looks down at you and smiles, stroking his cock.
“You look so pretty cumming,” he tells you. You let out a moan as you look at him. You feel your body shiver with pleasure as he strokes himself above you. He’s close, you can tell.
“Please,” you beg again. He smiles at you and moves forward. You feel him line his cock up with your hole and push in slowly. You let out a moan as you feel him fill you up. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, pulling out and slamming back in. You let out a loud moan as you feel him fill you completely. You love it like this. He knows.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight.” You can’t help but moan as you feel him move again. You reach up and grab his arms, digging your nails into his skin. You can feel him pick up his pace, and you know he’s close.
He pulls out and flips you over, pulling your hips up into the air. You feel him push back in from behind, and you let out a loud moan. You can feel him filling you up, and you love the way he feels from this angle.
“Fuck,” he groans again as he moves. You can feel his hands on your hips as he slams into you again and again. You let out a loud moan as you feel him move, and you can’t help but move back against him. “Fuck yes! I love this pussy” he groans, moving harder.
You can feel him moving faster and faster, and you know he’s going to cum soon. He’s been holding it in all day, and you know he’s close. He’s practically pounding into you at this point, and you can feel the sweat dripping off his body onto yours.
He moves his hand around your hip, finding your clit again. You let out a moan as you feel his fingers on you again, and you can’t help but move against him. You’re so close, you can feel it.
“Cum for me,” he tells you, moving his fingers faster. "Cum for your boyfriend, baby"
You feel yourself let go and cum again, your muscles tensing up as you feel your orgasm hit you. You let out a loud moan as you feel yourself cum around his cock, and he groans above you. You feel him pull out and move to sit beside you on the bed, stroking his cock above you. You can see the precum dripping off his cock, and you move forward, opening your mouth to take it in.
“Such a slut for me, aren't you baby?” he mocks, guiding your head as you suck him off. You moan against him, and he laughs. He knows you love it when he talks dirty to you. He moves your head back and forth on his cock, and you take him deeper.
“You want my cum?” he asks, smiling at you. You look up at him and nod. You love the taste of yourself on his cock. Can't get enough of it. You feel him move your head back and forth faster, and you can tell he’s close.
“Swallow it for me,” he tells you. You feel him move faster, and you can’t help but gag on his cock. “Good girl. Just like that.” he moans, his hand tightening in your hair.
You feel him tense up, and you know he’s about to cum. You keep your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking with all you're worth. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat, and you know you’re about to get his load down the back of your throat. You’re drooling. You can't help it.
“Fuck,” he groans, his body shaking above you. “Cumming!” he moans as he fills your mouth with his cum, shooting hot ropes into your throat. You swallow it down, letting it coat your tongue and slide down your throat. You keep sucking, swallowing down every drop.
You feel him pull out of your mouth and sit back on the bed, stroking your hair. You look up at him and smile, his cum still on your tongue.
You feel him move his thumb across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to suck it in. He smiles at you. “Good girl,” he tells you, smiling at you. You can see the want in his eyes, and you know he’s not done.
“We’re not done yet,” he tells you, laying back on the bed. He pulls you on top of him and smiles at you. You can feel him already getting hard again. He grabs your hips and moves you against his cock, rubbing it between your legs.
“Ride me,” he orders. He pulls you up, and you feel him guide his cock into you again. You let out a moan as you sink down onto him, feeling him deeper at this angle. “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head.
You let out a moan as you start moving on him, grinding yourself against his hips. “That’s it baby,” he tells you, smiling at you. You feel him move his hands to your hips, moving you against him. You let out a moan as you feel him move. “You feel so good,” he tells you, moving his hand to your ass. He smacks it hard, and you let out a moan. He smiles at you and does it again. “You like that baby?” he asks.
“Yes,” you moan. He smacks your ass again, and you feel him move his hands to your back. He pulls you forward and kisses you hard. You can feel him moving his hips again, pushing deeper into you. You let out a moan as you feel him fill you completely.
“You're such a good girl,” he tells you, moving his hand around your hip to find your clit. You let out a moan as he starts rubbing it again. “I'm going to make you cum again,” he tells you, moving his fingers faster. “You’re going to cum all over my cock, and then I’m going to fill that tight pussy up with my cum.”
You moan again and pick up your pace, grinding yourself harder against him. You feel his fingers on your clit and his cock deep inside you, and you know you’re going to cum soon.
“Cum for me baby,” he tells you, smiling at you. You let out a loud moan as you feel yourself let go again, your muscles tensing up as you feel your orgasm hit you. You feel him laugh above you as you cum around him, your movements getting slower as you ride out your orgasm.
He flips you onto your back and starts moving on top of you, picking up his pace. You're crying at this point, pussy so sensitive you can't take it. He's going to fuck you into oblivion. You feel his body tense up as he starts moving faster, and you know he’s close again.
“Fuck, I'm going to cum,” he tells you, face scrunched up with pleasure. You feel him move your legs up and wrap them around his waist, pulling you closer to him. He moves his hand down to your ass, spreading your cheeks. You can feel him slide deeper into you at this angle, and you can’t help but moan. “Such a tight little hole. So good to fuck.” He groans, face buried in your neck.
“Cum inside me,” you beg. He moans and bites your shoulder. You feel him tense up as he moves faster, and you know he’s going to fill you up. You want it. You crave it.
“Fuck, I'm cumming,” he whimpers, his body shaking above you. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he cums, filling you up. He moves his hips slowly against yours as he comes, emptying his balls into you. “Fuck,” he moans, collapsing on top of you.
You can feel his cock pulsing inside you, and you know you’re going to feel him dripping out of you for days. He pulls out and rolls onto his side, pulling you against him. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, and you know you’re going to be sore tomorrow. You're already sore, but it's a good sore. One that makes you smile. He's given you everything he has, and you've taken it all.
He pulls you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. “You were so good baby,” he tells you. You smile at him and kiss his chest. “I love you.” You tell him, smiling at him. He smiles back at you and pulls you closer. “I love you too,” he tells you, kissing the top of your head again.
You both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You're both exhausted. You can't even move. You're done.
You don't know how long you lay there, but you know it’s been a while. You're about to fall asleep when you feel the bed shift beside you. You open your eyes to see Jude walking towards the bathroom. You smile as you watch him go.
You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling. The sound of rummaging and water running has you sitting up. You feel the bed dip beside you, and you open your eyes to see Jude crawling back onto the bed. He's got a towel in his hand, and you look at him curiously.
“What are you doing?” you ask, sitting up on your elbows.
“I'm cleaning you up,” he tells you, smiling. You let out a small laugh and move to sit up. “Lay back,” he tells you, pushing you back onto the bed. You let out another laugh and roll your eyes, laying back onto the bed. You feel him grab your legs and move them apart, running the towel up your thighs.
You're sensitve as he runs the towel between your legs, wincing at the soreness. “Shhh,” he coos, eyes locked on your pussy, focused. He runs the towel up and down your slit a few more times before running it across your stomach. “There,” he tells you, smiling. “All clean.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, voice hoarse from screaming, gagging and sucking. “I've got you,” he tells you, smiling at you. You can't help but smile back at him.
“Come here,” he tells you, dropping the towel on the ground beside the bed. You roll towards him as he pulls back the covers, moving under them. You snuggle up against his side, resting your head on his chest.
“I can't wait to get my next match,” he mutters after a while, voice heavy with sleep. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk after it,” he jokes.
You smile back at him and kiss his lips. “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you tell him.
You both smile at each other, and drift off to sleep.
This is heaven. This is your happiness.
He's your everything. You love him. He loves you too. You know he does. He'll do anything for you. You'll do the same for him.
-Bianca🌻
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hanniebaeee · 1 month ago
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Bath
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Minho x fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MDNI
Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut
Summary: You're relaxing in the bath after a rough day, and you're feeling a little needy.
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The bubbles dance around you as you sink into the warm bath, the scent of roses and sandalwood creating an enchanting and soothing atmosphere. The tension in your shoulders begins to melt away, and you close your eyes, letting out a contented sigh.
It has been a hard day at work. Your feet hurt. Your shoulders hurt. Everything hurts. That's when your darling boyfriend massaged your feet and then got this amazing bath ready for you.
Just as you are starting to drift off, you hear the door creak open. You open your eyes to see Minho standing there, his eyes softening as gazes at you. He walks over and kneels beside you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"Hey there," he said softly. "Feeling better?"
You smile up at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.
"Mhm," you hum. "Feels so good."
Minho smiles and asks, "That's good. I wanted to ask what you want for dinner."
But you weren't thinking of food just then. Your hand is out of the water, and slowly cupping his cheek as you say, "Wanna join me?"
"Of course," His answer is quick, and you grip at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Your lips meet in the softest kiss ever.
His tongue slips into your mouth and you moan softly, both your arms going around his neck. And one of his strong arms goes around you, the other gripping at the edge of the tub for balance.
"Get in here, Min", you demand, and he's quickly on his feet, shedding his clothes.
You scoot forward and he steps into the tub behind you. The fit is snug, but you love how comfortable you feel in between his legs. Leaning back against his chest, you feel the warmth of his body.
His fingers massage your aching shoulders gently and you tilt your head to give him better access. His touch is so gentle, you can feel the stress and tension evaporating.
"Feels amazing" You say, your voice husky.
Minho chuckles in response, his hands continuing to work their magic. But soon, his fingers trail down your shoulders, tracing the curve of your collarbone before dipping beneath the water.
You gasp as they cup your breasts under the water and he kneads them ever so slowly. Your body responds eagerly, your back arching a little, pushing yourself more into his hands. You feel his lips on the back of your neck, pressing soft kisses and an occasional little nibble, that has you purring.
"Baby," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.
Minho turns your face to the side, and leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His hands continue to move down your body, his fingers the warm water and the gentle steam has you completely aroused. Your hands tighten on his thighs as your body aches with need.
"On your knees, babe," Minho whispers and you scramble onto your knees, your hands gripping the edge of the tub. You look back to see him slowly run his hands over your hips and back, before landing a soft spank on your butt. The sound of his hand connecting with your wet skin echoes through the room.
You gasp and shudder as he lands another light spank. And slowly, his fingers slip around your wet folds, and in and out of your hole a few times, as he kisses down your spine. You whine in frustration.
"Minho!"
He can hear the desperation in the way you whine out his name, and he chuckles. He's such a tease, and at the worst of times.
"If you're not inside me right now, I'm gonna-"
You didn't finish that sentence, because with a low growl, he is inside, all in one go.
You cry out, gripping the edge of the tub so hard that your knuckles turn white.
"You were saying?" The smugness in his tone made your tummy flip.
"You're such an idiot, Minho," You bite out, and a moan falls out of your lips, almost involuntarily, as he moves.
The warm, fragrant water sloshes around you as he slams his hips into you. And his soft moans and groans are so hot, you close your eyes, focusing only on them and the feeling on his body against your.
You breath heavily, and whimper as you feel his lips on your hip. The sweet scent of the essential oils mixes with that of your passion, and it's so intoxicating. The water ripples around you, splashing out of the tub, but nothing matters at that very moment.
"I love you so much," Minho whispers against your skin, his voice rough.
"I love you too," you manage to say, your voice breaking.
His fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing soft circles on it, and you're so close.
"I'm almost-" Another sentence that you don't finish as you're busy crying out his name as your orgasm crashes onto you.
Minho is also close behind, his body trembling as he comes inside you. His grip on your hips is so tight, as you both catch your breath. He pulls out of you gently, and sits back, pulling you against his chest.
You remain wrapped in his arms, as the water gradually cools around you. Minho press a soft kiss to your forehead, and he smiles.
"You good, baby?" He asks, pressing another kiss on your neck.
"Wonderful, thanks," you whisper, snuggling into him, making him laugh.
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star-girl-05 · 5 months ago
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Designated Driver
Steve Harrington x Reader
~★~❤︎~✦~
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The party was winding down when Steve started making his way through the house searching for the three of you.
Eddie was the easiest to find, his laughter sounding loudly throughout the living room. As he walked closer the smell of weed filled the air, making him grimace. “Come on Eddie we're going home” Steve called, Eddie just nodded giggling as Steve dragged him to the car. He sat him in the backseat telling him he would be back in a minute. Eddie just nodded sprawling out, his eyes already closing. 
He finds Robin next sitting on the kitchen counter snaking on a large bag of chips. It doesn't take much to get her to the car, all he did was grab her chips. Eddie barely reacted to the girl sliding into the backseat. Just like Eddie, she slumps against the seat, still munching on her chips. 
You are harder to find, he searched the entire house for you. He began to worry when he couldn’t find you. Before he went into a full-blown panic attack he found you sitting by the pool. Gently splash the water with your feet. You smiled when Steve walked up to you, “Hi Stevie” a little wave accompanied your words.
He can’t help but smile back at you, “Hey, you feeling alright?” you nod your head very enthusiastically. 
“Of course, I feel amazing, I’m having so much fun the water feels amazing you should join me.” 
“Maybe another time, right now I need to get you guys back to the house.” you pouted a little before sighing. Pulling yourself out of the water, you grab your shoes before making your way back to Steve. 
“Carry me?” you make the cutest grabbing hands at him, how on earth could he refuse you? He picks you up smiling as you tightly wrap your arms around him, pushing your face against his neck. 
“Hey, that’s not fair” Eddie whines when Steve sets you into the front seat. 
“Yeah you made us walk” Robin adds. You just chuckle a little, turning yourself so you're facing them.
“It’s because I’m Steve's favorite” You look at Steve locking eyes with him as he buckles you into your seat. “I’m your favorite right?” Steve just chuckles, nodding his head just barely making your smile grow. 
The car ride is silent, the three of you passing out almost instantly. Robins' is the only one that wakes up when he pulls into the driveway. He takes her in the house first followed by Eddie who he had to basically carry into the house.
You're much less of a hassle to carry. As he picks you up you groggily lift your head and look around. Steve's voice draws your attention, whispering a soft “Go back to sleep”. At his words you let your head fall back to his shoulder, tightening your grip around his neck. You're almost back to sleep when he sets you on the bed. You can’t help but whine when he pulls away from you, missing his warmth. 
“I’ll be back, I'm just grabbing some clothes for you” he helped you into more comfortable clothes. He followed suit, dressing in pajamas before climbing into bed next to you. “Goodnight” Steve closes his eyes ready for sleep to take him. Only to open his eyes again when he feels you shift beside him. 
You place a soft kiss against his lips, “Thank you for taking care of me tonight Steve”
“I’ll always take care of you”
You smile letting your head rest against his chest. “I love you Steve, goodnight” He places a small kiss on the top of your head, a soft ‘I love you too’ leaving his lips before he falls asleep. 
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miley1442111 · 6 months ago
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admitting- b.floyd
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a/n: i got this idea from the comments of my last post with ranch! bob floyd so thank you to @nerdgirljen for planting this idea in my head!
summary: how bob finally gets what he wants
pairing: ranch! bob floyd x reader
warnings: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, slight praise and degradation kink, unprotected piv, talk of cum (i think that's it?)
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He’d had the dream again. He was a dad. You two had a baby girl and boy, twins. He was playing with them out in the field and you were by the picnic blanket, pregnant in one of your gorgeous sundresses. 
Fuck he wanted it so bad. 
He got out of your shared bed and walked downstairs, grabbing himself a cold cup of water. He chugged it down as his mind raced, thinking about your kids, how beautiful you’d look pregnant, how much he wanted to get you pregnant and-
Oh. Bob was hard. 
This had been an increasingly common issue in recent months, essentially since you two moved onto the ranch and got engaged. You both had chosen that you’d wait until after the wedding to start trying, since you wanted to have the wedding, a nice honeymoon, and a few months alone as newlyweds without kids or pregnancy to spoil your fun. 
If Bob had it his way? You’d already be pregnant. Since moving to Texas and with the summer was fast-approaching, you usually opt for sundresses, long skirts and breezy tops, or shorts with one of his light hoodies. Some days, you'd forego clothes all together and just walk around in a swimsuit or just your bra and panties.
It was driving him mad. Everyday, you looked so fucking good he could barely keep it in his pants. You two fucked like rabbits, in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night. But every time you did, the dreaded question of ‘do you have a condom?’ would dampen his fantasy. He didn’t mind, trust me, it’s just he knew how good you’d look with his kid inside of you, his marks on your neck, and his ring on your finger. 
“Are you thinking about it again?” you asked sleepily, leaning against him.
Bob’s face turned pink. He’d been caught, but how did you know? “Well baby… yeah.”
“I’m so excited,” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “It’s going to be amazing.”
Bob turned around from his position of leaning on the counter. His arms wrapped around you with his hands smoothing up your back and his lips finding yours in a sweet kiss. “Yeah, I can’t wait to be parents.”
Your head snapped up and looked at him quizzically. “What?”
Of course that wasn’t what you meant. He doesn’t exactly bring up his sexual fantasies that often, and when he does it’s usually just to do it raw, or from the back. He’s a pretty vanilla guy, but don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing. 
He stuttered his way through half a sentence before you cut him off. “I want to be a mom too.” 
He smiled at you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your wedding was 4 weeks away, what’s the worst that could happen?
“And I want you to fuck a baby into me,” you whispered seductively and Bob’s brain short circuited. 
“Really?” he asked as you pulled his top up and over his head, kissing his neck. 
“Please Bob,” you begged and he knew he couldn’t say no. 
He grabbed your waist and turned the position around, now your back was against the counter and he was pulling off your clothes, leaving you bare in front of him. “Walkin’ around everyday in those damn sundresses, just waitin’ for me to fuck a baby into you, weren’t you?” he kissed up and down your neck as he groped you all over. 
You moaned at his words alone. When you two had sex, his accent came out a lot more, which was a definite turn-on for you. 
“I asked a question honey,” he stopped his kisses and delivered a soft smack to your ass. 
“Yes! Yes! Always for you! All for you!” you whined and he smirked. One thing no one would even truly understand was that, while he was the perfect gentleman outside of your bedroom (or kitchen counter, or bathtub, or couch, or stables, or car, or plane- yes it happened, but only once) he was down-right depraved in bed. His hands grabbed anywhere, his lips were all over your skin, and his dick? He was huge. 
“Good girl,” he cooed and you could feel yourself getting wetter. “My good girl, right?” You moaned out an incoherent agreement and his finger ran through your folds. “So wet for me, yeah?”
“All for you,” you whined. “Please I-I want it-” Your begging was lost in your throat as you felt his dick pushing in. The entire length of it was shocking, and the girth was something you’d never get used to. 
“Fuck,” he cursed. “You’re such a good girl, letting me take you like this, on the kitchen counter,” he cooed as he started to slowly move, wrapping his hand over your chin to turn you so he could watch you. His other hand landed on your hip, kneading the skin there. “You gonna’ let me fuck a baby into you?”
You nodded furiously as you moaned into his hand. “Please, I want it-”
“Be patient honey, you’ll get what you want,” he smirked. 
He picked up the pace as you screamed and moaned his name, something he’d never get enough of. Your voice as you screamed out in pleasure, as he was giving you that pleasure, he’d never stop loving it. 
“Bob! Bob, I-I’m close!” you whined. “Please don’t stop-”
“I’m not stoppin’ ‘till I put a baby in you,” he groaned and he felt your walls clamp down on him as you came, squirting all over his cock. He came with you. But he pushed himself and you through overstimulation and continued fucking you. His finger circled your over-sensitive clit, his cock was snapping in and out of you at a godly pace, and his cum shooting into you again, triggered another orgasm. 
He pulled out and plugged it with his finger, kissing you sweetly. “I don’t want you to waste any of it, yeah?”
You just nodded your head, to fucked out to even respond. 
“Good girl,” he smiled. “You’re going to be such a pretty momma,” he smirked as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, fucking his cum deeper into you. You leaned against the counter as he fingered you to another orgasm, spewing lines like “my perfect girl, ye’ gonna give me a baby?” and “Gonna look so beautiful pregnant with my kids,” and your personal favourite; “God you’re my whore, lettin’ me come inside like that.”
You came a lot that night. 
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He carried you back up to bed, dressed, and cleaned you up, then planted a soft kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep on his chest. 
Maybe he should admit his sexual fantasies more often. 
And maybe he should start painting the nursery.
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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
topgun masterlist :) (requests open!)
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