#whoa is this my music tag?
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I don't really have words
may his memory be a blessing
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screechingfromthevoid · 23 days ago
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ten people I'd like to know better
tagged by: @ittybittyremy which like 😭 I'd tag you right back tbh. I looooove your new look. I will have to do double takes. I'm used to Keyleth 😂
last song: I am literally listening to hickey by nik salah right now. You know? Judythopslover69? He writes music and it's unfortunately SO good.
favorite color: I love a deep rich blue. Think Anastasia's dress at the opera. But the darker the better.
last book: If we're talking about books I finished? A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel by KJ Charles. It's a historical romance about a new Lord trying to navigate his new duties all while his new secretary, who is said scoundrel, is searching his estate in secret. Feelings and mishaps ensue. It's very good if you're into that kind of thing. It's the second in a series that I did not read the first of. Which. Is very on brand.
If we're talking about current reads? Laudna's book has been hanging out in my bag since October 7th. I bought it and started it in a reading slump so she's just kind of sitting there. Making me feeling guilty.
last movie: I saw wicked with my sister!! I'm a theatre kid and it shows 😭 but it was so good. I immediately started crying during "no one mourns the wicked" and did not stop.
last tv show: I'm rewatching yellowjackets with a friend. She is very concerned about the identity of pit girl (as we all are).
sweet/spicy/savory: sweet! If it doesn't give me a cavity I don't want it! (That joke is less funny after a root canal but su la vu)
relationship status: I am painfully single. I moved during covid and tale as old as time me and my girlfriend at the time broke up. And I haven't really found anyone since.
last thing I googled: Bloomingdales leather gloves?? It snowed last night and I borrowed my grandmas gloves. They're dope as hell and a million years old so I thought I should look into them.
current obsession: 🙃 I'm in my critical role era. My d&d campaign is set in exandria and my AO3 is a fucking mess. I started watching everything with Brennan in it, fell in love with abria and had to watch every SHE was in. So I watched EXU and. Well. I was having a crisis when I found out Orym (and Dorian and fearne) carried over to the new campaign. I knew a Liam character would get me but this tiny little halfing fighter? Damn. Anyways I watched 424 hours of content in like two months. So. That was fun.
looking forward to: my best friend is coming up for new years!! I miss her and we're going to be cool as hell spending Nye in NYC 😎
No pressure tagging: @madison-winchester ; @gobliiine ; @zwoftt ; @fairymonk ; @brief-lives ; @cringefaecompilation ; @rosearcanaeum : @traveltobeprovedwrong ; @critterchatter ; @nightlilly0110
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a-can-of-soup · 4 months ago
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Drawing of my fit from today when me and @bealzebubs-blog went into town. We got meowed at by two dudes, grown men, meowing at teenagers. We went into some cool alt shops. Had fun..... Not mentally ready to start college on Monday..... But whatever.
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doctorwhoisadhd · 2 years ago
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i think more general music classes should include punk rock / metal as a genre
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moondialdoodles · 5 months ago
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Ooh alright!! Thanks for the tag btw :3
Tags: @mercifulbutbroken @failmeep @starrystarrypaint @auselessmage @ruckis--rookie
Challenging you all!
Put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most!
Then tag Tumblr friends to keep the game going!
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scho1ar · 3 months ago
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one thing i think about a lot is that mars and venus are both the closest planets to earth but venus is the planet of love and mars is the planet of war. venus is considered earths sister planet but mars is closer and that’s why it’s the one scientists are trying to figure out if we can move to after we destroyed earth.
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fear-is-truth · 3 months ago
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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 part II — nicholas alexander chavez.
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summary — 80’s au. popular, rich pretty boy nicholas alexander chavez has laid claim on you / wc: 1.0k
tags — f! reader. mentions of alcohol. nic being a lil tipsy n cute. teensy moment between cooper & reader but platonic
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read part I here
The pool party had spilled well into the evening, and the once-golden sunlight had been replaced by the soft glow of string lights scattered around the patio. The music still played, and the air was warm, thick with the scent of chlorine, alcohol and the buzz of laughter.
Nicholas, a little tipsy by now, had dragged you onto one of the lounge chairs near the pool, insisting that you sit with him. You were perched sideways on his lap, head resting against his chest, his arm slung protectively around your waist. He was laughing loudly, completely unbothered as he took in the scene around him. From where you sat, you could see a couple of girls near the edge of the pool, throwing side glances your way—obviously irritated. One of them flipped her hair and whispered something to her friend, both of them glaring as if they could will you out of Nic’s lap and into the pool. But he didn’t seem to notice nor care, as his attention was solely fixated on you. He just chuckled, thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.
“You’re the best part of this whole party, you know?” he murmured against your skin, voice low and a bit slurred from the drinks he’d had. You tilted your head to look at him, brushing his curls from his forehead.
“That the booze talking?”
“Nope,” he replied, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, before pointing to the place where his heart was. Then, as if making some grand announcement, Nicholas straightened up slightly, cupping his hands around his mouth to form a megaphone. “Hey people! See this hot babe right here? That’s my girl!” he hollered to no one in particular, pointing at you. People turned to look, some laughing, some raising their glasses in response. A loud wolf whistle from the crowd. You groaned, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.
“Oh my God, Nic.”
He laughed, tipping his head back, and it was impossible to stay mad at him when he was like this. “Just telling it like it is,” he said, squeezing your waist affectionately.
“You’re mine, and I’m all yours.”
“Sappy.”
As much as you were enjoying it, you could tell Nicholas was a little too far gone with the alcohol, and he could probably use some water. You extricated yourself from his embrace, standing up as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna grab you some water,” you said, brushing a hand through his hair.
“Be right back.”
You slipped inside the kitchen, the muffled sounds of the pool party fading as you sought a break from the noise. As you rounded the corner, you didn’t notice Cooper standing near the fridge, and before you knew it, you bumped straight into his chest.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” his hands gently landing on your shoulders to steady you. You blinked up at him, bewildered, then laughed in embarrassment.
“Sorry… didn’t see you.”
“Always in a hurry, huh?” He teased, his grip light but steady before he let go and stepped back.
“Just grabbing some water for Nic,” you replied, moving toward the fridge. “He’s getting a little too enthusiastic out there.” Cooper chuckled, nodding toward the lounge area visible through the glass doors. “Yeah, I heard him. So did the whole neighbourhood, probably.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling. “Yeah, well, you know him. Subtlety isn’t his forte.”
“Nope,” Cooper agreed, pushing off the counter and opening the fridge for you. “But hey, put any other guy were in his shoes, they’d wanna let the world know too.”
“Well, how ‘bout you?” you teased, grabbing a bottled water from the fridge before closing the door. “Sure I would.” He replied matter-of-factly, his expression softening before adding thoughtfully, “If I was bisexual, though. But I’d probably make less of a scene.”
There was another pause, but this one felt different. You both just stood there, sharing the space, and it was… comfortable. Cooper, for all his teasing, had always been the steady one in your life— a permanent fixture. It wasn’t something either of you ever really acknowledged out loud, but in moments like this, the quiet between you said more than enough. You both burst into simultaneous laughter, you doubling over in stitches. Chortling, he reached out, giving your shoulder a light pat.
“You better get back out there before your man does something stupid, I don’t wanna be the one to haul his ass out of the pool again.”
As you turned to leave, Cooper’s voice called out one last time. “But hey, if he ever fucks up—” his voice took on a playful edge, though there was a hint of seriousness in it, “—I’ll kick his ass. No questions asked.”
“Thanks, Coop.”
“Anytime.”
His words stayed with you, lingering in the back of your mind, but as soon as you stepped onto the patio, your focus shifted completely. Nic’s eyes immediately found yours from across the pool, his whole face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “There she is,” he crowed, reaching out with grabby hands as soon as you got close. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling as you handed him the bottle of water. He didn’t take it, though—instead, he tugged you back onto his lap, pulling you into his arms like he’d never intended to let you go.
“Missed you so much, baby,” Nicholas mumbled into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “I was gone for like five minutes,” you laughed, leaning back against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the way his hands lazily trailed up your sides. He grinned down at you, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.
“Five minutes too long.”
You unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and raised it to his lips, but Nic turned his head to the side, pouting.
“Nah, where’s my kiss first?”
You rolled your eyes but leaned in anyway, pressing your lips to his. As soon as you did, you tasted the faint tang of alcohol on his breath. When you pulled back to catch your breath, you giggled, wiping the edge of his mouth with your thumb. You raised the bottle again, and this time, he took a long sip, still watching you with that tipsy, adoring look in his eyes. “Better?” you asked, brushing your fingers through his slightly damp hair.
“Much better,”
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MLIST.  fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content
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joeyfranchise · 2 months ago
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all eyes on you, all eyes on us
joe burrow x fem!reader
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summary: it’s halloween night, time to dress up with your best friend and get your party on. all is well until you see your ex at the party, the emotions rush back in… but he fits you like a missing puzzle piece. you keep letting him back in, he’s doing a number on you.
warnings: MDNI i’m sooo serious i love to block. semi-public sex, groping, hickeys, scratching, pinv, dirty talk.
word count: 3.3k.
note: this fic is based off the song So It Goes… by T. Swift! requested by my sweet friend @starsinthesky5! i also wanted to add a halloween element to it.. i hope you guys like it! (something funny in the tags hehe) (i do not own any pics used!!)
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you could feel the bass of the music bumping through the floor, radiating through your feet and up your legs as your best friend pulled you deeper into the club.
she took your hand in hers, leading you through the sea of sweaty bodies to an open area in the room, somewhere the two of you could dance and let loose.
“you need this!” she assured you while you got ready. her claims were that recently you’ve been too uptight, you’ve been shouldering too much. and it’s halloween, so you need to have fun.
you agreed to come to the party, and even in matching costumes. she looked incredible in a dress identical to yours, but hers was white with gold fringe hanging from a slit in the leg. she wore a halo, gold jewelry, and red lips to match.
your dress was black with silver fringe, and rather than necklaces or bracelets you decided on two silver cuffs that sat tightly on your biceps. you painted glitter highlights on your cheekbones, and a dark maroon stain on your lips. you clipped two black horns into your hair at the top of your head. classic angel and devil costumes… but you didn’t care. you both felt good.
she finally stopped walking, dropping your hand as she stood in a vacant spot near the back of the club. there was a smoky haze that settled across the room, illuminated by the neon lights that were strung along the ceiling and the walls. you couldn’t quite make out the song that was on, but the beat was nice and you swayed your body along with it. you weren’t sure if you’d know anyone else here, but you were hoping to meet someone, even if just for a night of fun.
your friend was right. you needed to let loose. have fun. get laid.
“i’m gonna go get us a shot!” she yelled over the music, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder. your eyes followed her as she walked to one side of the bar, which wasn’t that far from you. she leaned over to speak to the bartender and then gestured back to you, presumably telling him why she wanted two shots. you locked eyes with him and - whoa. he was hot.
he smirked at you, eyes raking over your body, before looking back at your friend. his salt and pepper hair and stubble told you he was older - nearing his forties if you had to guess. he turned to grab a bottle of vodka off the shelf behind him and you ogled his form as you watched the muscles in his back and arms ripple. when he turned around, he looked back at you again. he poured the shots and your friend grabbed them, walking back over to you with her mouth wide open.
she handed yours to you and you both downed them, discarding the cups on a small table nearby. “the bartender is a total dilf!” she laughed, grabbing on to your shoulders. “totally!” you agreed, looking up to check him out again. “he was totally feeling you, babe!” she smiled. you weren’t focused on anything she said.
the bartender was now making a drink for a tall man, dressed in an all black suit. you couldn’t see the front of him, but you didn’t need to. you knew it was your ex. you could tell by his posture, the utter confidence in which he carried himself. joey fucking burrow.
flashback to your break-up
“you’re so difficult to deal with, you know that?” joe spoke, the way he sat made him look defensive. you held back tears as he threw complaints your way.
“we’re in public, joe. you’re not a fucking walk in the park!” you finally speak up, tilting your head at him to show him you wouldn’t back down. the chatter and soft music that floated through the restaurant weren’t doing enough to hide that the two of you were arguing. “this relationship hasn’t been working for a while, but it’s not just on me. you’re a diva sometimes. you make things difficult.”
he let out a snarky laugh, tipping his head back. his hand flexed on the glass he was holding, threatening to crunch it right then before he loosened his grip. you weren’t even sure what had started this fight, but you’d been at odds with each other recently, so it could have been anything. but when joe brought up working it out, you told him you weren’t sure you wanted to, which led you here. a fancy dinner in a quaint restaurant where everyone could see you falling apart.
“maybe you’re right. maybe it isn’t worth trying to work out. lets throw the last six months down the drain.” he said, his tone smarmy. he widened his eyes at you as he spoke, placing the ball in your court. the waiter came over to ask you how everything was, but he didn’t get a single word out as he took the two of you in, your anger and emotions sitting on the table rather than your meals.
“i’m sorry i just.. i don’t think this is working. i think our personalities clash too much.”
to be honest, you felt caged in. you felt like a hostage to your feelings, but you weren’t sure exactly why. sometimes joe’s barriers were difficult to break through, and you had an idea that was something that was breaking you down.
joe never had the intention of making you feel that way. he didn’t want to push you away, but he wasn’t the best at displaying his emotions. his temper was getting shorter and shorter. he had the tendency to take things out on you, and he hated it. but, if you wanted out, he couldn’t stop you.
neither of you said a word for the rest of your meal, the tension was palpable from across the table. he paid for dinner, although you offered, and you climbed into his car quickly so he could take you home.
he pulled into your drive, parking the car before leaning over the console to look at you. you felt stifled, the air in the car was thick with anger, sadness, regret. you grabbed the door handle and popped it open, but before you could get away joe grabbed your hand, turning you back to face him. you leaned into the car, waiting for his spiel.
“i’m sorry for making you feel upset. i’m sorry i couldn’t have been more for you.” tears spilled down your cheeks finally, all your emotions were rolling down your face leaving salty stains in your makeup.
he continued. “i really am sorry, i love you.” he said, looking down at the wheel.
“so it goes…” you respond, pulling your hand away and walking inside.
end of flashback
joe must’ve felt your eyes burning holes into the back of his head, because he turned around and smirked at you, catching you staring at him.
he took his drink from the bartender and walked away, back toward his group of friends. you tried to push him out of your mind and let loose anyway. you danced with your friend through five or six songs, and the thought of joe being at the party almost became a distant memory.
after a little while you were feeling hot, a sticky sheen of sweat coated your whole body. “i’m gonna gef some water!” you told your friend. you made your way to the bar, slightly excited to talk to the extremely hot bartender.
you sat down on one of the stools and waited for him to get finished making someone else’s cocktail so he could attend to you. he shook their drink in the mixer, poured it, then finally looked your way. a goofy lopsided smile spread over his lips as he walked closer.
“what can i getcha?” he drawls, leaning over the bar on his elbows. his face is now inches from your own, but you don’t mind it. he looks even better up close. “just some water, please. i’m just a little hot.”
he turns and grabs a bottle of water from a mini-fridge behind him, placing it on the bar in front of you. you unscrew the cap and take a long sip, accidentally letting a drop fall from the corner of your mouth and slide down your neck. you know he sees it, but he doesn’t mention it. after you finish drinking, you place the bottle down, twisting the cap back on.
the bartender starts speaking to you again. “i really like your costume, by the way. i saw you when you came in and… woah. you’re gorgeous. i’m j-” he begins to tell you his name, but he’s cut off.
“she doesn’t care what your name is, buddy. she’s my girl.” joe snaps. he must have seen you flirting with the man behind the bar and made his way over. “i’m not your girl, joey.”
he places a hand on your arm, running his fingers along the silver cuff. “‘can we go talk for a moment?” he asks you, tone sounding oddly soft. the bartender looks back and forth between you. “i can have him thrown out.” he says, completely seriously. “it’s okay,” you tell him, reaching across to pat his shoulder. “i’ll go talk and be right back.”
you hop off the barstool, ready to walk away with joe, but then you remember your friend. your eyes scan the room to find her and you aren’t shocked to see her making out with one of joe’s friends. “she’ll be fine.” joe says, taking your hand and leading you through the crowd. he stops in the middle of the dance floor, pulling you close against him as you allow him to take the lead, moving along with the music.
“very fitting costume.” he smirks, looking you up and down. “what are you supposed to be?” you ask.
he reaches his hand in his pocket, pulling something out. he holds up a white masquerade style mask. “a magician.”
he lifts it up to his face, putting it on with the strap going around his head. he’s smirking. curse the phantom of the opera for making you think this costume style was hot. his hands find your hips, pulling your body closer to his. it’s like you can feel every set of eyes in the room on you. joe feels you tense up and watches you as you scan the room.
“i promise all eyes aren’t on us, babe.” he whispers. “but i think they are.” you reply. “what did you even want to talk to me about?” you ask, pushing at his chest to create some distance between you.
“i miss you.”
you scoff out a laugh. he misses you? he knows this’ll never work. joe cradles your face in his hands. “you know we don’t work, joey.” you argue, once again trying to pull away from him. “we don’t,” he agrees, small smile playing at his lips, “but the sex does.”
you can’t disagree with him on that front. “why try to find some random stranger to sleep with when i’m here, when i know your body and what you like?” he challenges, leaning down so his lips are ghosting over yours. he’s right.
you don’t give it any more consideration. you don’t allow yourself time to back out. you smash your lips into his with fervor, your arms wrapping around his neck. he kisses you back with just as much intensity before pulling away, grabbing your hand and leading you through the club again.
“where are you taking me?” you ask him breathlessly. “one of the private rooms.”
he pulls you through a beaded curtain that hangs on a doorway, roughly pushing you up against a wall. “i’m not fucking you on one of those beds or couches or whatever they are. that’s so unsanitary.” you protest.
“i know that. that’s why were gonna do it against the wall.” he smirks.
“anyone could walk in here and find us!” you say, worried about being caught. “let loose, that’s what makes it fun, baby.”
his lips find your neck, biting and sucking at the skin. “jump.” he murmurs. you hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. you reach up and pull his mask off, tossing it somewhere across the room. your fingers tangle in his dirty blonde curls.
his grip is firm as he holds you against the wall. you tug on his hair, bringing his lips back up to yours. he slips his tongue into your mouth, sliding it against yours. you can feel him straining against his dress pants as his hips roll upward into yours.
“joey, fuck me.” you breathe, your voice hoarse. he chuckles at you. “still so eager for it, huh?” he teases.
he uses one of his arms to press you into the wall, sliding his other hand up your dress and tugging at your panties. when he realizes this angle won’t work, he drops you back down til your feet are on the floor and helps you step out of the lacy black thong. he shoves it in his back pocket before standing up, telling you to jump again. his hand bunches up your dress, exposing your bare core to him.
he kisses you again, one of his hands working to undo his belt and pants. you glance down slightly, watching as he pulls his thick cock from his pants. your arms remain around his neck, your forehead pressed to his shoulder. he brings his hand up to his mouth, spitting on it before reaching down to run his fingers through your folds, not that you really needed it.
from seeing him in the costume, the thrill of potentially getting caught, and knowing that he knows just how to get you there, you’re soaked. he takes his cock in his hands, sliding it through your folds before finally pushing into you, inch by inch. you gasp at the size, even though you know from plenty of experience exactly what he feels like.
the air in the room is thick as he begins thrusting into you. the sheer force of his hips slamming into yours is holding you against the wall, but you still help him remove his jacket anyway, and you pop the buttons on his shirt as he bites and sucks at your neck again. you’re satisfied when you can finally get your hands in enough to rake your nails along his back. if he plans on marking your neck, you’re going to tear his back up with your freshly manicured nails.
“fuck, you feel so good. so tight.” he says, tongue soothing over a mark he left on your neck. “i’m so full, joey.” you reply, finally pulling him up to look into your eyes again. he reaches up and places a hand on your neck, applying the lightest pressure. “ah, your favorite necklace.” he teases. you place your hand on top of his, pushing on his fingers so he’ll squeeze harder. he does, but only briefly, all the while his hips are still pistoning into yours. when he removes his hand, his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. you can tell he’s close, and he’s trying to get you there too.
he presses gentle kisses into your lips as he speaks to you. “come on baby, i know you’ve got one for me. let me have it.” he coaxes.
it doesn’t take long before you’re unraveling, cumming hard all over his cock as warmth spreads from your horns to your toes. you’re squeezing joe, sucking him in and he cums soon after, filling up your cunt with his cum.
you press your sweaty foreheads together for a moment, the slight intimacy of the moment making both of you reminisce. you don’t let it last long, you can’t. because you know this doesn’t work.
“joe… can i.. have my panties back?” you ask, trying to make your voice sound playful so you don’t completely ruin the moment. he pulls out of you and lets you down. you squeeze your legs together, hoping that none of his seed will run down your thighs.
“sure.” he says, fishing them out of his pocket. “not sure what they’re gonna do for you, though.”
he’s right, but you need to slip something on, to create at least the tiniest barrier. joe awkwardly scratches at the back of his head before fixing himself, and then buttoning his pants. he fixes his shirt, slides his jacket on, and makes himself look as neat as he can.
“um.. thanks joe. that was nice.” you slip out, voice cracking. saying goodbye would be awkward for you both. joe doesn’t respond verbally, instead he just leans in and kisses your forehead before walking away. you unfortunately have to walk out after him, looking for your friend. she’s still kissing joe’s friend, but you think you’ll have to interrupt to tell her you’re just going to head home.
joe turns to look at you. “i’ll have tee tell her you left, just make sure you text her when you get home.”
“tee?” you ask, looking puzzled. “my teammate tee? that’s who she’s kissing.” you nod knowingly. you turn away from him then, heading for the exit, walking as slow as you can so that no evidence of what you’ve just done with him leaks out of you. when you’re almost to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder.
you turn around and you’re face to face with the bartender. he looks you over, smirking. he can tell by your appearance that barely any talking was done, but he doesn’t care. he shoots his shot anyway. he hands you a slip of paper with his number on it, winking at you before sauntering back off to the bar. you glance around the crowded club again, your eyes landing on joe. he’s already dancing with another girl. you’re not jealous you tell yourself. he’s not yours, nor are you his. you tear your eyes away and walk out.
you make it outside, hailing a taxi and telling the driver your address. it doesn’t take long to get back to your building. you pull out your phone and keys, which you’re surprised you didn’t lose after the events of the evening, and head up the elevator to your floor.
you unlock the door, stepping inside and kicking your heels off before locking it again behind you. you tiptoe to the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting it heat up. you look back at your phone, two new text notifications showing on your screen. you open them one by one.
bestie: girl!!! let me know when you make it home! i’ll probably be going home with this cutie i met!
you respond to her quickly.
you: home! have fun 😋
the second text is from joe, go figure.
joeyyy b: so it goes, huh?
you don’t respond to his message, you just heart react to it. you really aren’t in the headspace to talk to him right now, because if you respond you’ll end up inviting him over, and you can’t have that. he’s not good for you, you aren’t good for him. you’ve let the pieces fall naturally into place. it’s over between you, even if you both still have the slightest residual feelings left.
before you step into the shower to wash the day away, you click new message at the top of your screen. you type the bartenders number in and… are you really gonna do this? fuck it.
you: hey, it’s y/n. the devil from the bar. 😈
when you see typing bubbles pop up almost immediately you squeal, locking your phone and slamming it on the bathroom counter before undressing and stepping into the hot, steamy shower.
taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22
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theharddeck · 1 year ago
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do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)
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pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)
synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.
word count: 10.4k
warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.
A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!
You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 
It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 
But. 
You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.
Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 
Quickie During the Rodeo
After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]
Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 
You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 
Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 
You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 
There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 
“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 
“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.
You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 
“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 
“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 
You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  
“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”
His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 
Why did guys in real life never moan? 
It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 
“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”
Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 
“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”
It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 
His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 
How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 
You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 
Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.
“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 
Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 
“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”
Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.
“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 
You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 
You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 
“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”
You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.
“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 
He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 
“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 
You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 
Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.
Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 
“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”
Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 
Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 
“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”
You wanted to be his good girl. 
Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 
“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 
His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 
“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”
Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.
A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 
“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 
You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 
“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”
You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–
“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”
You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 
“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 
Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  
Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 
Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 
“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”
The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 
There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 
An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 
“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”
You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.
“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”
“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.
You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 
Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 
“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 
You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 
The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 
Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 
You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 
When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.
You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 
Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 
The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 
The hours in the room flew by.
By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.
It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.
"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 
It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 
It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 
It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 
It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 
“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 
Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 
Bob was BullRiderRhett.
The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 
(Yes, you had an annual subscription).
(Yes, you deserved it). 
When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 
In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.
How had you never noticed before?? 
Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?
You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 
A knock on your door startled you. 
“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 
“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”
You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 
“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??
Could’ve been worse, you mused. 
You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.
“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 
He looked the same. 
The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 
Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills. 
His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 
And now you were thinking about that.
“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 
He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 
“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”
“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”
It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 
So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 
You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 
“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 
He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 
“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.
You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 
You had to say it.
You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 
You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 
“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 
He didn’t, not really.
He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 
“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.
“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.
“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”
You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”
Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”
And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?
“What?” you managed again. 
Bob looked at you.
It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 
He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 
It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 
Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”
It was still Bob. 
But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 
Of course he did. 
He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 
Objectively, Bob was the best. 
You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 
“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.
That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 
He pushed himself off the bed. 
He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 
Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.
“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”
“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”
It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 
He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 
“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 
Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 
You kissed him. 
You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 
He was so soft. 
The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 
You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.
You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 
“Can I show you?” you asked. 
He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.
“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 
His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 
It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 
This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 
You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 
You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  
It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 
You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 
You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 
“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.
You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.
“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 
“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”
Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 
And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 
You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 
“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”
It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.
“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 
The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 
“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”
It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 
“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.
“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”
You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 
It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.
“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”
You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 
“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 
“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”
You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 
“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 
You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 
“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”
Were you whimpering?
You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 
“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”
You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 
“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”
You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 
“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 
“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”
A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 
You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 
“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 
“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 
“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.
“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”
Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 
When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 
“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 
He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 
You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 
“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 
He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 
It was better with him. 
His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 
“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”
He sounded so good. 
His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 
You felt like you were floating. 
Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 
“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“
You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.
“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.
He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 
Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 
You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”
Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 
“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”
When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 
You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 
He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 
The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 
His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 
Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 
“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 
“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 
Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 
“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 
“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”
His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 
He wasn’t done, either. 
“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 
Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 
He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.
This sweet man. 
He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 
You loved the feeling of his skin. 
He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 
Fuck. 
You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 
“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 
“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”
He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 
While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 
He found the condom.
You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 
Holy. Shit. 
He looked like a work of art. 
A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 
“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.
You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.
“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”
Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 
“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 
And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 
“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”
At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 
“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 
“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 
“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 
You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 
“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”
You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 
You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 
“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 
He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 
“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 
“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”
You broke off when he pushed into you. 
A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 
Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 
Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 
Fuck, he felt so good. 
You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 
Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 
You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  
“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”
“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”
Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  
“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”
You couldn’t do anything. 
You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 
“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  
“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”
You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”
Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??
The sounds in the room were dizzying. 
Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 
He knew, somehow. 
The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 
“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 
He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 
“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”
You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 
He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 
“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 
Bob’s hips stuttered.
You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 
“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”
You rolled your hips. 
Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 
It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 
Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 
“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”
You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 
And then. 
And then he got close. 
He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 
You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 
When you came back, you were on your side. 
You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  
“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 
“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”
You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 
You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.
//
tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover
chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙
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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago
Text
Sleepover
Description: Hotch wants the reader, but doesn’t know how to tell her. Maybe a night in will be of some assistance.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader
Warnings: none (but this is full of domesticity, jealous!hotch, mutual pining, and so much fluffy fluff)
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: originally posted on tumblr. then it resided on ao3. now it’s back on tumblr. (fun fact: it’s my favorite hotch fic i’ve ever written and my second favorite story i’ve done of all the fandoms i’ve written for. hope ya like it still)
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If there was one thing Agent Aaron Hotchner was not, it was unprofessional. But, oh. If there was ever a time he wanted badly to be unprofessional, it was this moment right now. Y/N stood next to him, leaning in close to whisper in his ear as they stood in the kitchenette, looking out into the bullpen.
“You look exhausted. You need to go get sleep.”
He glanced down at her. His face was so close he could almost feel her breath on him. It was everything in him to not lean in and—
“Hotch, seriously. You can’t even focus for more than a minute at a time,” she laughed, shaking her head.
“I’ll be fine. It was just— a long case,” he finally managed.
She turned away, arms crossing. “You need rest. You beat yourself up more than anyone during this one.”
“I have a little boy at home to take care of before I can even think about sleep.”
She sighed, turning fully to face him. “Hotch.”
“Y/N,” he retorted.
“Fine. You know what?”
He turned towards her, arms crossing to mirror her.
“What?”
“I’m coming home with you.”
His heart stopped and face dropped. It took him a moment to process what she’d just said.
“Um,” he took a second to clear his throat, “I—Excuse me?”
She laughed, music to his ears. “That sounded so inappropriate. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m going to come watch Jack for you. You’re gonna get rest.”
“I’m your boss.” Hotch watched her face for a moment. “You don’t need to watch my son while I sleep.”
“You’re also my friend, and I’m offering my time, you’re not taking it. Besides, I’ve watched Jack a hundred times before.”
He only sighed, looking back over the bullpen, now nearly empty.
She turned again, leaning over. “You’re not gonna win this one.”
“Fine, but you need to get sleep at some point, too.” He looked back to her. “As soon as Jack is asleep, I want you to get rest yourself.”
“Will do, boss.” She smirked.
“Okay, go get your things, we’ll leave in a few minutes,” he said, watching her for a moment as she walked off.
She went to her desk, beginning to pack up what she needed, but not before Derek had to come over to stir things up.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, leaning against her desk on one arm. “Leaving so soon?”
“Soon?” She laughed. “We just had a hell of a case, I’m getting out of here.”
“Oh, man.”
He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest and sat against the desk.
Hotch walked towards his office, trying not to watch the pair talking. He tried to not pay attention how she smiled at him as he spoke, and how he always seemed to have the right words to say to get her to laugh.
“Why, what’s up?” She slung her bag over her shoulder.
“I was thinking about going to the bar. Wanted to know if a pretty lady wanted to tag along.”
Hotch threw his things in his bag quickly, trying to not think about Y/N talking to someone much younger… Childless… Not a widow. Someone he knew she’d be with more easily.
“Oh, so you only wanted me around for my looks, huh?”
He laughed, throwing his head back a little. “You’re worth a lot more than just that, sweetheart.”
“Aww, such a sweet boy,” she said, griping his shoulder. “I got some other plans for the night, though.”
“Oh yeah? Doing what?” He straightened up with a smirk.
“Ready?” Hotch asked, walking up behind her at the desk.
“Yeah, let’s go,” she responded, turning towards him.
Morgan’s face was stuck in a state of shock.
“Whoa, now hold on—”
“I’m going to watch Jack,” she said, cutting him off with a chuckle. “Don’t get too riled up, now.”
He smiled, almost laughing. “Alright. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Morgan,” Hotch said with a curt wave. Y/N followed his lead, and then they were on their way out.
“So,” Hotch started as they stepped out of the elevator and walked outside. “You and Morgan?”
Y/N raised her eyebrows in shock. “What?”
They began walking to his car.
“Are you two… Because there are some forms you’d really need to sign if—”
“Hotch,” she stopped him, standing by the passenger side door as he waited by the drivers. “That is so not happening.”
“Okay, I just…” he trailed off with a shrug, opening the door as she did and getting in.
“He’s a flirt. There’s nothing going on between us.” She settled into the seat, buckling up. “Besides, I’m too busy trying to take care of you.”
She laughed and he couldn’t help himself but to join in. He pulled off, and started towards home.
“Thank you, by the way, for doing this,” he said, not daring to look at her with how nervous he suddenly felt about bringing her to his home.
“I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
“Jack is going to love this.” He chuckled, turning down his street. “He really looks up to you, you know? Thinks you’re hilarious.”
“Well, he’s not wrong. I am pretty funny.” She smiled. “I am, admittedly, a little sad I only get to hang out with him for a few hours, though.”
“Yeah?” he asked, pulling into the lot of the apartment complex.
“Yeah. He’s a great kid.”
As much as he didn’t want to admit it for how childish it felt, he got butterflies this time when he turned to look at her. Before he could think about it too much, he turned the key and opened the door. She followed suit, walking behind him until they reached his door. He opened it for her, and she looked around.
“His aunt should be dropping him off here in a few minutes,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. “If you’re hungry or need a drink, you’re free to get anything from the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” She smirked, watching him. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”
“I will.”
He chuckled, feeling like a little kid with the way she spoke to him. Then he paused, considering something for a moment.
Apparently the moment was longer than he realized.
“You got something on your mind?” she asked.
“Would you like to stay here for the night? I have a guest room, and this way you won’t need to catch a ride home. I could just take you to work tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she said, glancing down at her bag. “I don’t have anything to wear. I mean, I have my go bag at my desk that I could always use for an emergency, but for the night—”
“If you need something, I’m sure there’s something of mine you could…” He paused, realizing what he was saying. But before he could backtrack, she had to go and flash him a smile again.
“If that’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.”
“I’m sorry if that sounded inappropriate, I—”
“Did you not hear me agree?” She laughed. “You worry too much, boss. Now go get dressed.”
He nodded, turning for his room. She walked over the couch in the living room, sitting down and leaning her head back. It wasn’t long before she heard a bedroom door open, and there stood the great Aaron Hotchner in an old t-shirt and baggy pajama pants.
“That’s a good look on you,” she said, looking up at him from where he sat.
He felt a blush creep onto his skin, and tried really hard not to think about it. He walked a little closer as she stood up, handing her a nearly folded pile of clothes.
“I brought you these. The shirt is extra baggy and comfortable, and hopefully the pants will fit well enough. They’re adjustable.”
“Thank you so much, this’ll be great.” She smiled up at him. “Room is down the hall? I’d like to get dressed and set my bag in there before Jack gets here.”
“Yes, right across from his room.”
“Okay, sounds great. Now, you go to bed. I’ll be here.”
He gave her a slight smile. “Right. Thank you, again.”
“You know it’s no problem. Now, goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he said, walking off.
She grabbed her bag and the clothes, walking off towards the guest room. She set her bag down near the door, closing it to dress. She stripped out of her work clothes, slipping on his t-shirt first. She took in a deep breath and smiled: It smelled like him. She finished pulling on the pajama pants and made them comfortable as needed.
She grabbed a makeup wipe out of her bag and wiped her face, calling it good for an unexpected night out. Then, she heard a knock at the door. She walked out, looking through the peephole to see Hotchner’s sister-in-law Jessica standing outside with Jack. Y/N opened the door.
“Hey!”
“Y/N!” Jack squealed, throwing his arms around her. “What are you doing here?”
“Dad needed to get some rest, sweetheart. So, we get to hang out for the night,” she said, looking down at him with a hand rested on his back. “Thank you for bringing him.”
“Anything for my little man. It’s good to see you again,” she said with a smile, accepting a quick hug from Jack before he bolted off.
“You too, Jess. Have a great night.”
She waved a goodbye and was out the door. Y/N locked everything back up, and popped her head into Jack’s room.
“Hey, buddy.”
“Hi!” he said, turning around from where he stood at his dresser. “I’m gonna get dressed for bed. Then can we watch a movie? I already ate at aunt Jess’s house.”
“Yeah, of course, little man.” She nodded. “Do you want to go in the living room or…”
Jack paused, giggling. “Why are you wearing dad’s clothes?”
“I’m staying the night, bud. I needed pajamas.”
“You are?” he asked, eyes wide. “Can we go watch the movie in your room?”
“Yeah! Why don’t you finish getting dressed and brush your teeth, and then you can come in, okay?”
“Okay!” he exclaimed, quickly grabbing his clothes.
She turned, walking across to hall and into the guest room. She pulled the covers back, crawling underneath and switching on the T.V., finding her way to Jack’s Netflix profile, smiling at some of the shows he’d been watching. She picked an old movie she loved as a kid. It wasn’t long before she heard a door open, and little footsteps whipping around the other side of the bed. He crawled up under her arm, pulling blankets up to cover him.
Jack was watching intently, the movie only half over, when the creaking of another door piqued their interest. Hotch’s head popped into view a second later.
“What are you doing up?” Y/N asked.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He gave a shy smile, then turned to Jack. “How are you doing buddy?”
“Y/N said she’s staying over!”
“Yeah, she is.” He smiled, stepping inside the room. “How’s the movie?”
“I like it a lot. Come watch!” Jack said, patting the bed next to him.
“Buddy, I’m not sure that’s—”
“Please, dad?” he pleaded.
Hotch looked to Y/N, almost asking permission without saying a word. She nodded. He shuffled a little, hesitantly walking around the bed to Jack’s other side. He lowered himself on the bed, pulling the covers over his legs. Jack slipped out from under Y/N’s arm in favor of leaning on his dad’s shoulder. It wasn’t long before Jack was snoring, and as Y/N looked up to see if Hotch thought it was just as cute as she did, she noticed he’d fallen asleep, too. They looked so sweet sleeping there together that she couldn’t help but pull out her phone and take a picture. She set the phone on the nightstand, making herself more comfortable as she focused her attention back on the movie.
Early morning light filled the room when Hotch woke up. He glanced down to see his son cuddle up against him and smiled. He was still fast asleep. Then, he looked up. Y/N laid asleep, her body curled up on her side, facing him and effectively caging Jack between them. Her breath came soft and even, and he admired how she looked in his clothes as he saw her in the light for the first time. She was so close, and he longed to get closer, but couldn’t think on it long before her eyes started fluttering open.
“Hey,” she greeted, voice soft with sleep, and a tired smile gracing her face.
“Hey,” he said back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.”
She chuckled, rubbing her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I think he was happy to have you here.”
Hotch smiled, looking down at his son. He was out like a light.
Y/N leaned over, gently kissing Jack’s forehead before slowly and quietly getting out of bed. Hotch watched her, heart aching at how much he wished all of his mornings could start this same way. He shifted out of the grip of his son as she stretched out at the end of the bed, leaving the room with her.
“It’s still early,” he said, walking to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
She trailed behind, taking a seat at the counter.
“That depends. Are you gonna make me breakfast if I am?”
“If you’d like.”
He smirked at her, and she smiled back.
“Tell you what, you work on the food, I’ll get coffee started,” she said, getting up and walking towards the counter.
He wordlessly agreed, pulling out some boxed pancake mix and stovetop sausage links. She removed the old coffee filter from the machine and set in a new one, filling it up with grounds. Hotch mixed up the batter quickly, heating up a pan.
The coffee pot filled, and pancakes were formed. Y/N poured two cups, preparing one to her liking and one to Hotch’s. Then, footsteps came shuffling into the room.
“Morning, sunshine,” Y/N said to Jack, smiling at him. “You want some juice?”
He nodded sleepily and climbed up onto a chair at the counter. She poured him some orange juice and set the cup down in front of him. He took a sip, watching his dad finishing up breakfast.
“Is that pancakes?” Jack asked, trying to peek around to see the pans.
“It sure is,” Hotch replied, throwing some pancakes on a plate and pouring out a few more.
Y/N set down the two coffee mugs on the counter, and took her place next to Hotch to move the sausage links around in the other pan.
“Almost done?” she asked him without looking up.
He moved the rest of the pancakes to the plate.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, glancing over and turning off both burners.
Hotch grabbed three plates, setting them down next to her so she could split up the sausage links. As soon as she was done, Hotch set to putting a few pancakes on each plate, and Y/N grabbed butter and syrup out of the fridge. He prepared Jack’s for him and set the plate in front of him with a fork. He then waited for Y/N to start the working on her own before he prepared his. She took a seat first, leaving a seat in the middle for Hotch. They ate quietly, sharing a few words when Jack wanted to talk about what he got to do at school the day before, and what he was looking forward to for the rest of the week.
“Hey,” Y/N, nudging Hotch’s arm as she pushed her plate away from her. “Could we get to the office a little early? I’m gonna have to get dressed there since my go bag is there and all.”
“Of course.” He nodded, sipping at the last of his coffee. He then turned to Jack. “Can you go get dressed to go to school, please?”
“Yeah,” he said, hopping off the stool and running off towards his room.
“I think I’m gonna put on my stuff from yesterday till we get there,” Y/N said, sliding off of her stool. “Not sure walking into the office in your pajamas would be a great look.”
“Maybe not the most professional outfit,” he agreed, laughing a little as he walked around the counter, putting dishes in the sink for later. “For the record, I think you look beautiful.”
She paused, feeling heat rise to her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, arms crossing over her chest. “Looks better on you, though.”
And with that, she left to go change. Hotch waited in the kitchen for a moment, almost in shock, before heading off to his room to get ready for the day.
It wasn’t long before they were both showered and ready to go, Jack practically running out the door when his aunt arrived to take him to school. Hotch and Y/N drove to work in a comfortable silence, only the sound of the radio playing low. They arrived at the BAU, and went straight inside. Hotch went to his office, and Y/N was reaching for her duffel bag when the glass doors opened.
She looked up, not expecting anyone else to be there so early.
“Hey, what are you doing here? We don’t start for another half hour,” she inquired.
“Just needed to get some work done early. But I could ask you the same thing.” Derek smiled at her, then glanced at what she was wearing. “Hold on, aren’t those your clothes from yesterday?”
He inched closer, a slight smirk on his face.
“Yeah, I was just about to go change.” She held up her go bag.
“Mhm.” He crossed his arms. “What happened to just looking after Jack for a while? You decide you were finally gonna get after—”
“Derek!” she interrupted, laughing. “No! I just stayed the night with Jack in the guest room.”
He raised a brow. “And that’s all? Baby girl I know you’ve had a little crush on Hotch since you walked in here.”
She bit her cheek, looking away for a moment. “You’re nothing but trouble, Morgan.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
He stepped closer.
“Okay, fine.” She huffed out a sigh and lowered her voice. “We had breakfast this morning, with Jack.”
“And?”
She paused. “He also slept with me and Jack, but it was an accident. He didn’t mean to fall asleep there. We didn’t even touch one another, it was totally platonic.”
“Well, I am sure Hotch wouldn’t be sneaking into bed with me if I was watching his kid.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s totally not into me. You know how he is with work policy, and besides he is way out of my league.”
“You need to think a little higher of yourself.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She laughed again. “Now, out of my way so I can get dressed. I don’t need any more questions from the rest of the team.”
“Alright.” He stepped back holding up his hands.
“And Derek?”
“Yeah?”
“Do not tell anybody.”
She pointed a finger in his direction as she spoke. He only chuckled, taking a seat at his desk.
She went to the bathroom, changing out of her old clothes and throwing on some new ones suitable for work at the office. She put on a little makeup, threw on some deodorant, and called it good. She stepped out to a slightly more full bullpen, only a couple more people had arrived. She shoved her go bag under her desk, and walked over to the kitchenette table where Derek, Hotch, and Emily were talking.
“How’s it going, guys?” she asked, taking the seat next to Emily, across from Morgan and Hotch.
“Talking about yesterday’s case. The daughter of the last victim made it safely to her grandparents’ house,” Emily said, sipping at a mug of coffee.
“That’s awesome. I’m glad she had them to go to,” she said, leaning forward on the table.
“You need coffee?” Emily asked, looking to Y/N.
“Oh, no thanks. I got my share this morning.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” Derek said, holding back a smile.
“Morgan.” Y/N glared at him.
Hotch caught her eye for a moment afterwards, questioning. She slightly shook her head in amusement.
“What happened?” Emily asked, a curious smile on her face looking between Y/N and Derek.
“Nothing, he just doesn’t understand boundaries,” she said with a pointed finger. “Trying to blow things way out of proportion as always.”
This time she glanced at Hotch first, rolling her eyes a little. He smirked, looking down at his hands.
Emily watched the little interaction with interest.
“Does it have something to do with these two?” she inquired, looking back to Derek.
Y/N and Hotch spoke over each other.
“Nothing happened,” Y/N muttered.
“What?” Hotch questioned.
Derek looked to Hotch. “Can we go talk?”
Hotch furrowed his brow. “May I ask what about?”
“It’s nothing. It’ll just take a couple minutes.”
“Alright,” he said, standing up and nodding a quick goodbye to Emily and Y/N.
Derek followed after, throwing a devious look Y/N’s way.
Emily leaned over, speaking more quietly. “Something I should know about you and Hotch?”
“No,” she chuckled. “Derek is just… Himself.”
“Something had to have happened.” Emily turned in her chair, and made Y/N face her. “Spill.”
“I went to watch Jack last night so Hotch could get some rest. We had breakfast this morning with Jack, and he accidentally fell asleep next to Jack and I while we were watching a movie.” She sighed. “I told Derek, and now he’s freaking out about it like something happened.”
“Y/N. You slept at his house.”
“To watch his kid.”
“Wait, you said he fell asleep next to you and Jack.” A smile crept on her face. “Was that on a couch or in a bed?”
“Emily,” she groaned.
“Y/N!” Her eyes went wide. “How can you still think he’s not interested in you?”
“He’s not.”
“You’re both blind.”
Hotch led Derek to his office, only leaving the door a little cracked.
“You wanted to talk?” he asked, leaning against his desk. Derek stood in front of him.
“Yeah. About you and Y/N.”
“Morgan.”
“Hotch, I know you don’t want to admit it, but I know you’re into that girl.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “She told me about last night and this morning.”
“She was watching Jack. Nothing more.” Hotch shook his head. “This isn’t an appropriate conversation for work.”
“Work doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”
Hotch only stared.
“Look, I just think you should ask her out.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Why not?” Derek let his arms drop to rest on his hips, tilting his head.
“I’m her boss,” he replied, straightening up.
“But what is really the harm in trying?”
“She’s—” he started, and then paused, shaking his head.
“She’s what? Amazing? Gorgeous? Smart?”
“She wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. So, it doesn’t matter anyways,” Hotch said, glancing down. “We start the day in 5.”
“Great, that’s plenty of time.” Derek paused a second. “Why would you think she’s not into you?”
“I’m— I have a child, and I’m a widow. She doesn’t need all of that on her plate. Plus, she’s young. She’d be better off with somebody your age,” he said, looking up again to catch Derek’s eye.
“Man, you are so blind.”
Derek chuckled, shaking his head.
The day started as usual. The team had a briefing, and then went to work at their desks for a while. Today was going to be a slower day, and everyone seemed to be thankful they could get home at the end of the day. At lunch, Y/N noticed Derek and Emily talking quietly: she thought it was awfully suspicious.
“Hey, you two,” she called out, walking over to Emily’s desk. “Why are you being so quiet, it’s weird.”
Derek glanced up. “Nothing.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes, turning to Emily in question.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”
“You two are bad liars.” Then, she had an idea. “Hey, Reid.”
His head popped up, looking to her. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been sitting here next to them, what are they talking about?”
He looked lost, glancing around. “I—Uh… I have no clue.”
“Now, see, you I believe,” she laughed, ruffling his hair as she went past.
He frowned, quickly smoothing it back out. She headed off towards Hotch’s office instead, trying to ignore the whispers that has started back up.
She knocked quietly on the open door.
“Hey, you busy?”
She popped her head in to see him eating a sandwich at his desk.
He shook his head, swallowing a bite. “No, come in.”
She closed the door and went to sit at the chair by his desk.
“Derek has been weird all day. What did you guys talk about earlier? I can’t get an answer to save my life.”
His eyes went wide.
“What?” she questioned, noticing Hotch going more on-edge.
“Uh, it was— It was nothing. Just a work thing.”
“You know, you’re a really bad liar, too.”
He chuckled, looking away. “I just don’t think this is the right time to talk.”
She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
He glanced up at her, looking her in the eyes, searching for an easy answer.
“It was just— It was about last night. And this morning.”
She groaned. “Great. I knew I shouldn’t have told him anything.”
Hotch just sighed, looking at her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d say anything,” she offered as an apology.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just that…” He let out a slow breath. “He brought up something that I think I want to talk to you about. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
“Okay, what is it?” she questioned, straightening up in her chair.
“He, uh, brought up everything from last night and this morning. And he brought up how that’s not something that I would normally do. Or something you would normally do.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomf—”
“No, it wasn’t that. It’s just,” he paused, watching her for a second. “I need to know if you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”
Her heart was racing and heat rose to her face. She was breathless.
“W-what?”
“I’m so sorry, I know this is inappropriate, but…”
“What are you asking?”
“I just need to know how you feel. About me.”
He looked at her, almost pleading for the answer he deeply wanted.
“I’m— I think you’re amazing. I think you’re a wonderful father, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way you do,” she began in a ramble. “I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’re so out of my league, but after talking to Derek this morning, and Emily, I just… I don’t know. I want to hope.”
Hotch furrowed his brow, and Y/N took in a breath, ready for rejection.
“You think I’m out of your league?”
“I mean… Yeah?” She tilted her head. “You’re really incredible.”
He couldn’t help but smile.
“Y/N, for profilers I don’t think we’ve been very good at reading one another,” he said quietly. “I thought I was the last person you’d ever be interested in.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m a widow, I’m older than you, I have a son…”
“A son that I love. I’d do anything for that kid.”
“I know.”
He smiled again, watching her. She couldn’t help but to smile back.
“As for the other stuff, I couldn’t care less. You’re so much more than that.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she continued to smile at him. “We really are pretty dumb, huh?”
“Very, apparently,” he agreed with a nod.
She checked the time. “Lunch break is almost over. I better go.”
He nodded again. “Yeah. Talk more later?”
“Of course.”
She waved a goodbye, walking towards the door. With one hand on the handle, she felt something grip her arm and spin her around. She was met with Hotch’s lips on hers, a kiss that took her breath away. They broke apart after a minute, both smiling like giddy teenagers.
“When I tell you that’s all I could think about doing this morning…” she began.
“Me too,” he agreed, looking into her eyes as his hand stroked her cheek. “Especially when I got to wake up to you in my clothes. It was killing me.”
She giggled, leaning in for one more kiss. It was slower this time, more gentle. She backed away afterwards, just enough to be able to speak against his lips.
“I think maybe we should thank Derek and Emily.”
“And let them feel like they won?”
“Good point.”
He let her go to get back to the bullpen, but as she attempted to turn the handle of the door, she was knocked back into his chest. Of course.
“You’re welcome,” Derek said with a smile after assessing what must have just happened.
“You don’t get credit for this,” Y/N laughed.
“Mhm. But it’s totally on me,” he said, raising a brow. He started walking back out, but not before… “Don’t you two take too long in there.”
FULL MASTERLIST
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Andas, jag kan inte andas
För det låter så pinsamt kvavt där jag står bredvid dig
För trött för att dölja, det måste va uppenbart
Åh kom inte närmre, åh snälla kom närmre
Snälla kom närmre, snälla kom närmre, kom närmre , kom närmre , kom närmre
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rose-petles · 2 months ago
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중원 - Attention -> Y.JW
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Warning -> slightly kissing, jealousy.
Paring -> bf!Jungwon x GfFem!Reader
Synopsis -> You were craving Jungwon’s attention.
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You looked up from your phone as you heard Jungwon’s feet on the stairs. Your jaw nearly hit the floor, your breath hitching when you saw him in a beautiful red suit that he had to know was bound to take your breath away.
"Whoa. You look so pretty! What's the occasion?" You asked as he made his way to you.
He was reaching for your hand but suddenly stopped as the words fell from your lips.
"You don't remember? We had that party tonight! A bunch of my friends are going to be there and I got invited and get to bring you along with me. I told you about this the other day. Did you forget, babe?" He asked as she sat beside you and started to put her heels on.
"Yeah, I must have. Everything has been so hectic lately. Are you sure we have to go? Can't we just cuddle and watch a movie together? You've been so busy lately."
You scooted closer to him and started to run your fingers along his thighs teasingly, only for him to shake hush head and push your hand away.
"No, no." He mumbled. "Go get ready."
You groaned but walked up the stairs and took a few minutes to get ready before meeting him back in the living room.
Like you were when you first saw him, his jaw dropped and his eyes looked starry as he reached for your hand.
"You look so pretty, my girl." He complimented before kissing your cheek. "C'mon, let's go."
He took your hand and led you to the car before heading off to the party.
You arrived a little while later. The music was loud, the chatter from everyone inside just the same. The lights were bright but not nearly as bright as your boyfriend’s smile.
Before you even had the chance to say a word to him, he was swept into a conversation by guests who were more than happy to see him.
Him was holding your hand when you first walked through the door but quickly dropped it to hug people. You understood and didn't mention a thing to him and simply greeted people that came up to you.
You're not exactly a party person. Jungwon is the only one you'd willingly tag along to a party for.
You thought it'd be fun, but you almost felt invisible.
You tried to speak to her but he never turned away from the people he spoke to. You tried to get his attention by tugging at the hem of his suit and he only brushed you off.
With the lack of attention from him tonight and the last few nights due to her hectic schedule, you were getting annoyed.
You lifted your head and from across the room, you noticed a man staring at you. Your eyes locked, his lips tugged into a smirk as he sipped on his drink but kept strong eye contact with you.
You got up and Jungwon was so caught up in his conversation that she didn't even notice you getting up.
You walked to the boy, who was all smiles when you stood in front of him. "Hey! Want something to drink?" The man, who quickly introduced himself as Jake, asked you.
You nodded your head and he quickly got one for you and handed it to you, his hand touching yours and lingering for a moment.
That was when you felt Jungwon’s eyes on you from across the room. For the first time all week, you felt like you finally had his attention.
So as Jake kept flirting with you by finding ways to touch your hand and fixed his hair and laughed along to the things you said, you didn't stop him - and it only made your boyfriend furious.
He kindly excused herself from the conversation and made his way to you, right as you bit your lip and went to run your hand along Jake’s arm with a forced laugh as he made a terrible joke.
Jungwon appeared behind you, his hand falling to your back. He looked between you and Jake, kissing your cheek sweetly and lingeringly before he said, "Can I talk to you for a moment, baby girl?"
You nodded and let him take your hand and once you were out of sight as he led you around the corner and into an empty bathroom in the house, he tightened her grip.
"What the hell was that?"
"What was what, Jung?" You asked, pretending to be clueless, as he pushed you against the door. "Oh, you mean back there with-"
"Don't." He whispered and dropped his forehead onto yours. "Why were you purposely making me jealous, y/n?"
You pretended to be clueless again, but he knows you too well and you couldn't lie to him, even if you tried.
"I wanted your attention. You've been so busy lately. I understand why, but this is the first night we had together but you dragged me to this party and you made me feel like I didn't even exist."
He sighed before nodding his head.
"I understand. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too. For making you jealous on purpose. Although," You paused and bit your lip, breath hitching as he gave you that look of lust in her eyes.
"It's kinda hot when you're jealous like this."
He giggled before leaning in for a kiss. He tried to deepen it right away, but you pulled away quickly, much to his dismay.
"So... can we go home now? Maybe spend time together there?"
"Hmm," he hummed and leaned in to kiss your neck.
"Okay... in a few minutes. For now, I think I wanna stay here with you and kiss you some more."
He whispered against your neck as his teeth sank into your skin, making a soft sigh fall from your lips and pull him closer, hoping this moment with him wouldn't ever end.
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Copyright © 2024 rose-petle/Rostle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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gremlin-girly · 2 months ago
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Kinktober Day 18
Title: Cheat Day
Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader
Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise
Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym
Word count: 2.9k
Banners by @/cafekitsune + dividers by @/saradika-graphics
A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me
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Warm Up
You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.
You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.
And you hate that damn Stairmaster.
The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.
You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.
You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.
You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.
You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.
His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.
Workout. Focus on working out.
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Arms
The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.
It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.
Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.
Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.
"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."
"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."
He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.
"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.
Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.
The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."
"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.
"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"
You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.
"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.
"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."
Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.
Even if it made your heart flutter.
"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."
You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."
You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.
"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."
Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."
You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.
If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.
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Legs
Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.
The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.
"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."
Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.
You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."
After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.
"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."
"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.
You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."
You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.
His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.
"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.
"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."
You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.
Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.
You have to.
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Cardio
It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.
Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.
The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.
Maybe he's like that with all newbies...
That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.
So much for easing yourself back into it.
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After an hour, you decide to call it quits.
It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.
You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.
"Y/N?" Bucky
"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?
"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."
You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.
"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.
"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."
Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.
"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"
"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."
"Can I join you?"
You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.
"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"
"Sure," you say thickly.
Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.
The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.
"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.
Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.
You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.
You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.
You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.
"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.
You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.
"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."
"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.
You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.
"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.
"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.
Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.
"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."
He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.
"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.
"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."
You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.
Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.
"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."
"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.
"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.
"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."
"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.
"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."
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sapphicvqmpires · 2 years ago
Text
❁ཻུ۪۪♡ swallow (your pride)
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Pairing - shuri/black fem! reader
Word count - 4K
Contains - smut (18+), slight choking, dom!shuri, sub!reader, strap on, reader is a brat, slight degradation kink, jealousy, fluff, cunnilingus, minimal plot
Key Words - nkosazana (princess), sthwanda sam (my love)
Divider From - @firefly-graphics
Sneak Peak - The first time you guys fucked, you made it abundantly clear to yourself and to her that she was just a one-night stand. She agreed, and only came to you when you asked. She fucked hard, but she did it with intent. The way she always took care of your needs before hers. The way she called you ‘princess’ and ‘slut’ interchangeably in bed. The way she almost fucked you like she loved you. All the reasons why your one-night stand turned into a two, three, four-night stand. But you were not hers, and she was not yours, and as much as you tried to push away the hot gooey feeling of jealousy in your core, you just couldn’t
Song Vibes - kiss it better (rihanna), sept 5th (dvsn), i.j.s. (dee gatti), awkward (sza)
Tags - @abenomeiiii
Writers Note: low key scared to post this but oh well, let me know if you enjoyed it! And let me know if you wanna be in the tag list for future fics :)
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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ You allow your mind to get lost with the crowd, your body becoming syrup as you lose yourself in the music. Your head getting lost in the beats that pummeled through your veins as you chose to forget about your current dilemma. You were having a good time, up until the dilemma herself walked straight through the door. You instantly choke down tears, not because of the sight of Shuri, but because she brought another girl with her. Shuri’s arms are around her shoulder as they stepped foot into the house party.
The first time you guys fucked, you made it abundantly clear to yourself and to her that she was just a one-night stand. She agreed, and only came to you when you asked. She fucked hard, but she did it with intent. The way she always took care of your needs before hers. The way she called you ‘princess’ and ‘slut’ interchangeably in bed. The way she almost fucked you like she loved you. All the reasons why your one-night stand turned into a two, three, four-night stand. But you were not hers, and she was not yours, and as much as you tried to push away the hot gooey feeling of jealousy in your core, you just couldn’t.
You and Shuri make eye contact, but you look away instantly, hoping she didn’t notice the pathetic brokenness in your eyes. She probably wouldn’t care anyway. You rush to the alcohol table and thankfully find Riri, your best friend was there as well, responsibly sipping her from her red cup. She noticed the look on your face and understood immediately.
“Y/n, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”
This has a single tear instantly escaping your tear duct. You quickly wipe it away as you chug down some alcohol. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed of yourself. It was never supposed to be like this.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there. We both know you’re bit of a lightweight,” Riri teases. “What’s going on y/n? Tell me.”
“Ugh, I hate her!” you respond in pure frustration. Riri raises an eyebrow, allowing her face to pave way for what she was about to say, and you knew the exact words that were about to fall out of her mouth.
“I told you you couldn’t do it.”
You roll your eyes as you take another sip of your drink.
“You’re just not a one-night stand type of girl y/n, and that’s ok. You love, and you love hard. Not your fault Shuri can’t see she has the most beautiful girl in her grasp.”
You put your drink down and subtly looked over your shoulder to see if she was still there with that girl. Your stomach drops at the sight of them still together. Shuri’s arm is no longer on her shoulder but they are talking. Shuri towering over the small, petite girl in front of her before she notices your eyes studying her. You make no effort to look away this time, just angrily chugging the rest of your drink down as you maintain eye contact and make your way to the dance floor once more. You look around for someone to dance with you, spotting another girl that somewhat resembles Shuri with short, boyish curls and a tall, lean build. Attractive but not as attractive as Shuri.
“Wanna dance?” you ask the stranger.
“Uh, yeah sure. Why not?”
You grab the stranger by the wrist as you drag her to the dance floor. You let the music take over your body once more, now mixed in with the alcohol that is currently flowing through your veins. You don’t care. You’re angry and you want to piss Shuri off. Maybe that will get her attention. You dance with the stranger so sensually but she handles you well. You knew you weren’t being fair, you never wanted or asked for anything serious. Or so you both thought. You look at Riri from across the room, and she chuckles. Riri knows exactly what you’re doing but she’s all for it. You grind on the girl behind you, as she takes your hips and pushes you further into her crotch area. You notice Shuri watching you, her eyes dim with desire. Her eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance, as she makes her way towards you. Your gut grows hot, but you don’t stop what you’re doing.
“I can take it from here,” Shuri says to the stranger.
“I never said I was done with her.”
“I don’t give a fuck, move,” Shuri replied, her voice low and demanding, as she slightly pushed her off of you. The stranger rolled her eyes, and walked away. Shuri takes your wrists and puts your arms around her shoulders, your faces inches apart besides the fact that she’s slightly taller than you.
“You look good,” Shuri compliments, her eyes roaming the room and barely even looking at you. You roll your eyes in annoyance, scoffing as you try to let go of her grasp but she pulls you in tighter. She lowers her mouth right by your ear as she begins to whisper. “Where do you think you’re going, hm? Keep acting like a brat and I’ll show everyone what you really look like when no one’s watching.”
Her threat makes your body tight, as you grow dewy between your thighs. “You’re not the boss of me,” you reply with a challenge. Shuri’s eyes snap at you, a slight grin forming on her lips. She knows what you want. Your face softens at her demeaning gaze, making her chuckle. She loves the power she has on you and so did you. You grab her hand and slowly lead her up the stairs, making sure you make heavy contact with the girl she came in with as you make your way up.
“Don’t be mean,” Shuri says as she notices the death glare you give the other girl.
“Too fucking bad.”
Shuri snickers in response.
You guys finally find a secluded bedroom away from the thriving crowd downstairs. Shuri lifts you up as you wrap your legs around her, bringing you into the bedroom. You can’t help but smile, wondering if she can feel your sweet spot dampen against her. She places you on the edge of the bed, spreading your thighs open as she kneels down on one knee in front of you.
“You were being a brat downstairs, why?”
Her question catches you off guard, forcing you to swallow hard.
“I don’t like her,” you respond.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific with me nkosazana. I don’t have time for games today.”
“Stop acting like you don’t know who I’m talking about!” you snap back. “That girl you brought here to the party with you! Why would you do that?? You’re annoying for that,” you pout.
Shuri rolls her eyes as she lets out a breathless laugh.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“You’re adorable when you’re angry.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re annoying.”
“Mhm, yeah, you said that already, nkosazana.”
You let Shuri laugh for a bit, as she collects herself. You find no amusement in this.
“You done?”
“No. I don’t even see why you’re so angry about it anyway. You made it perfectly clear we’re not together. You said, and I quote, ‘this is just a one-night stand, don’t think about trying to fall in love with me and shit’”.
Shuri was right. That is what you said, but still. You couldn’t help that you let your damn emotions get in the way.
“Whatever. You were just using me for a good time anyway,” you scold. Shuri’s eyes grow dark. Her lips completely shut as she brings her face closer, her lips just brushing yours.
“You think that’s what I want you for?” Her voice is low and raspy. Her eyes are so full of desire adding more wetness to your already soaking pussy. She grabs you by the throat, putting slight pressure. “I could say the same about you, the way you opened your legs so easily for me like the bratty slut you are.” She lets you go of her firm grasp.
“Take that off,” she demands, pointing to your revealing dress. “Not that it makes a difference, you’re practically naked in that fucking dress anyway.”
You roll your eyes as your dress drops to your ankles, revealing the lavender lace underneath. Shuri’s breath hitches, bluntly observing you and your body, even though she’s seen it a fair amount of times already. Her eyes trail to the dark spot between your legs.
“Fuck baby, you’re already soaking.”
“Shuri please,” you whine. Your cunt is aching, and you can’t take it anymore.
“Don’t give me that. You made me watch you dance with another girl, who kinda looked like me, never mind.”
“You did it first.”
“Yeah yeah, now get on the bed, and spread open for me.”
You comply with ease. You rest your ass on the plush bed beneath you, as you spread yourself open to Shuri, revealing the damp spot on your lavender lace. Shuri grabs a chair and sits, manspreading as she gets comfy. She looks so good in her unbuttoned baseball-like jersey top, with her black Nike bra underneath, revealing her toned abdomen. Her matching boxers are peaking above her black, baggy cargo pants and you know exactly what else is hiding underneath. You study the way her boyish curls compliment her perfectly chiseled face, her jawline carved to perfection. Her gold adornments gleaming against her dark skin, it was all too much. No one should look THAT good.
“Touch yourself,” she commands, interrupting your moment of lustful admiration.
“But I want you to do it,” you sulk.
“We’ll get there y/n, but first I want a show. You owe me one after the shit you pulled today.”
You give in, pushing the lavender lace to the side, revealing your dark brown, glistening center. Shuri adjusts herself, her eyes fixated on your pussy. You take two fingers, lubing them with your wetness as you slide them into your plush walls. You slowly pump in and out, as your head dips back in pleasure.
“Uh uh, eyes on me. I want you to picture me with every thrust you give yourself, sthandwa sam.”
You obey, lifting your head back up to face her. You get lost in her almond eyes, as you thrust faster into yourself, determined to please the woman in front of you. Shuri’s eyes trail between yours and your dark center. The room is silent except for your soft, breathless moans and the squelching of your wet, throbbing cunt. Shuri loves the sound your body makes, she’s told you so many times before. You pull out for a second to play with your delicate clit, making yourself moan Shuri’s name. A viscous smile forms on Shuri’s lips as she watches the way you play with yourself and as her name shamelessly pools out of your mouth. She loves the effect she has on you and your body without even having to lay a finger on you.
“That’s right y/n, say my name. You're so pretty like this.”
Your gut begins to tighten as the familiar feeling rises in your core and down between your inner thighs. You picture the tip of Shuri’s strap circling your clit, as your eyebrows furrowed together and your mouth drops open. You were fatally close before you were rudely disrupted by the woman you were hoping to please.
“That’s enough.”
You shoot her a glare as you remove your fingers in confusion. The phantom of your impending climax lingering in both your gut and pussy came to a halt, making you annoyed.
“What? No, that’s not fair, I was so close Shuri,” you whimpered, almost crying.
“You whine too much baby. Come here.” She motions you to come sit on her lap, and you do. You spread your thighs over hers, your cunt lingering over her lap, as you face her, still annoyed. “What's the long face for? You did this. Not me.”
You stare at her, and even though you want to pick a fight, you know she’s right. You made it sufficiently clear to her that you didn’t want anything serious. Shuri was allowed to see other women, but you didn’t like that.
“Shuri…please.”
“What is it now, nkosazana? Talk to me. Tell me what you want. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t talk to me.”
You’re debating whether to take it the sexual way or if you should be real with her and as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted her. Every bit of her. You wanted to wake up next to her, and bring her flowers. You wanted to watch stupid movies with her and go to the arcade with her. You wanted her touch, but you wanted more than that. You realize this is the first time you’re admitting this to yourself. You sigh, breathing in deeply. You rest your head into the nape of her neck, admiring the tattoo there. She smelled so good.
“I just want you,” you muffle into her.
Shuri takes her hand and strokes your curls, being careful because she understands curl maintenance.
“See, was that so hard?”
You bring your face back up to hers, placing your lips on her lips. This was your first kiss. Not that you haven’t kissed her before, of course you have. But your first real kiss with her and it makes your cheeks flush.
“I almost want to say ‘I love you’ but it’s too soon for that,” you say, half-jokingly. Shuri’s eyes go from sweet to desirable in a split second, bringing her hand up to cup your drenched cunt.
“How’s she feeling?” Shuri asks, talking about your sweet spot that still needs to release itself. You gulp.
“She wants you.”
“Mhm. You can tell me you love me in other ways if you’re not ready to say it out loud just yet.”
You kiss her once more, this time more wantonly. She slips her tongue in, as you remove yourself from her lap. She pushes you onto the bed, hovering over you as her gold chain dangles in your face. She removes her baseball button-up, revealing her toned arms that you will never get tired of. She grabs your throat.
“You gonna be a good girl for once?”
You nod, desperate for Shuri to make her mark inside you. Shuri removes her cargos, fully revealing her Nike boxers and the strap she was already wearing. You weren’t surprised though. Shuri liked to wear it, she told you before when she caught you by surprise the first time. Shuri continues to undress you, sliding your lace panties off. She admires the lavender bra against your brown skin.
“I almost want to keep this on. It’s so pretty on you,” she coos.
“Do what you want, I just need you,” you say as your breathing picks up.
“Still needy I see.”
Shuri digs her face into your neck, placing kisses on your sensitive spot, earning a small moan from you. She smiles against your skin, proud of how well she knows you. She makes her way down, pressing her lips against your cleavage and your core. She makes her way to your inner thighs, as you thrust your cunt forward, making it incredibly clear where you want her.
“I’m getting there baby, be patient.”
She lifts your legs over her shoulders, making you more spread open to her. She soaks in the beautiful sight of your dewy hunger for her, diving into her prize. You’re already losing it, getting lost in the way her tongue understands you so well. You wrap your legs around her, locking her in and applying more pressure. Shuri grips your thighs as she eats away, winning filthy moans from your lips.
“Shuri baby, I’m so close. Pl—please don’t stop.” You wail her name unapologetically, as your orgasm approaches you. Shuri sucks on your puffy clit, sending you over the edge. The room goes white, and your stomach churns heat as your orgasm subdues your entire body. You release yourself into Shuri’s mouth, as you let her go of your tight grasp. She lifts herself off of you, your pleasure running down the corner of her mouth.
“You’re delicious, baby. You did so well.”
You lie there trying to collect yourself. Shuri notices this, and comes back down to kiss you, the taste of your satisfaction on her lips brings you back.
“I’m not done with you.”
“I know.”
“Let me know when you’re ready, nkosazana.”
You let out a few breaths, preparing yourself to be penetrated. And you know Shuri. She’s not gentle with it. But you love when she has her way with you.
“Ok ok I’m ready,” you say between heaving pants. Shuri lets out a crooked smile, as she grabs her girthy strap, taking the tip and circling your clit. You moan so easily, it’s almost embarrassing.
“Look at you, you’re just too easy, baby,” she teases.
“Just…please. Please Shuri, stop teasing. Just fuck me already,” you demand.
“Still such a brat.” She takes her strap, and puts it in you. Your walls welcome her in, expanding to accommodate her size. You always struggled a bit in the beginning, but you never wanted her to stop. You took the slight pain as it was easily replaced with pleasure with each thrust knocked into you. Your eyebrows soften, as you take her in. Your moans getting louder with each drive into your cushioned walls.
“You look so pretty when you struggle.”
You keep eye contact with her as she guides you through it. She knows how much you need her, and she’s going to give you exactly what you’re desperate for.
“You take me so well, y/n. So tight for me.”
Each thrust gets easier, as it usually does. You beg her to keep going, to keep pummeling into you.
“Please don’t stop Shuri. Please. I wanna cum.”
“Tell me you want to cum on my dick.”
You moan Shuri’s name a couple more times, trying to gather your thoughts together.
“Please baby, I wanna cum on your cock. I’m so wet for you.”
This sends Shuri over the edge. She loves the way you whimper for her. The way you take it for her. She digs her head into your neck once more, picking up the pace. She’s no longer being gentle with you, and your pussy is so open to her. You’re close. Shuri lifts her face off the nape of your neck, wanting to look you in the eye as you release yourself. You try to remain eye contact with her but it’s nearly impossible. Your eyes roll back and your head bucks backwards at her thrusts. Your whole body explodes and the room turns to colors as you cum for the second time. Shuri grabs your chin, and forces your eyes on her.
“Look at me as you cum baby, I know it’s hard. But do it.”
She fucks you through your orgasm and even through the after shock. You’re so overstimulated but you don’t want anything less. Finally, your body comes back to earth.
“I wanna try one more thing, if you let me,” Shuri says.
You look at her with those eyes. Those “fuck me” eyes, you always give her. It sends her over the edge. Shuri lies on her back as she strokes her strap slowly, rubbing your juices all over it.
“I want you to ride me. Think you can do that for me baby?”
Your eyes bulge, contemplating whether you can take her or not. It doesn’t take long before you make up your mind. You wanna feel her. You want her to ram into you so deeply, the words “I love you” fall out of your mouth. You don’t care.
You nod, as you sit on top of her toned core. You kiss her, right before you begin to slide it in.
“Wait,” she interrupts. “Turn around. I wanna see the way you stretch as you ride me.”
You obey immediately, turning your back against hers as you slide it in. Shuri has the perfect view of your plump ass and your curls falling down your back.
“Bounce.”
You do, and it feels heavenly. It goes so deep into you, immediately hitting your sweet spot. You bounce, as Shuri watches the way your pussy swallows her whole with each leap. That vision is enough to send Shuri into madness. She helps you get to your climax, thrusting slightly, making sure you do most of the work this time. You cry her name out, absolutely frantic.
“Come on baby, you have to work for it.”
You whine as your legs begin to cramp, your core muscles tightening. It was a workout. But you weren’t going to stop. You bounce like a pro, hoping Shuri notices. You lean forward a bit, giving Shuri a clearer view of the way your cunt opens and closes with each thrust.
“Oh yes y/n. Just like that. Just like the beautiful slut you are.”
You moan to her insult, bouncing harder as you reach your third of the night. Your head leans backwards as Shuri’s name falls off your tongue. You stop bouncing and just ride her out, moving your hips back and forth as Shuri remains inside you. You come back down from your high, releasing yourself from Shuri’s grip as you spill all over her.
“You did amazing y/n, we have to do that more often,” Shuri says through her heaving chest. Her sweat is glazed over her dark skin.
You put your panties back on, along with Shuri’s baseball top. Shuri puts her pants back on, as you crawl back in the bed with her. This part wasn’t new. You would usually end your “one-night stand” sessions in her arms, your head pressed into her chest as she holds you and engages in small talk. You two practically broke the rules of what was meant to be a one-time type of deal. But this time felt different. There was more love to it.
“Shuri?”
“Yes y/n?”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Shuri adjusts herself, her face inches from yours. “What do you mean, sthandwa sam?”
“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. I was supposed to have a good time with you, and then move on but then…” your voice breaks off, almost too prideful to finish what you were going to say.
“But then what?”
You let out a heavy sigh. “But then you got me so confused with fucking and making love. The way you did it was so rough and hard, but still lovingly at the same time? How is that possible? And then you would take care of me after, and call me all those cute names, plus you're so hot and beautiful at the same time? You’re just too much.”
“Oh, I’m too much??” Shuri teases. You roll your eyes for what seems like the hundredth time today. She loved to pick at you, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. You loved her, and it was time to swallow your pride for once. Shuri looks intensely into your eyes, trying to read you.
“What's on your mind y/n? Talk to me. I love hearing you talk.”
“I don’t know. I think I love you.”
A soft smile appears on Shuri’s face. She knows that it took alot for you to admit. She’s proud of you. She cups your face in her hands, bringing her lips to your forehead.
“I know you do, baby,” she says softly. “I love you too.”
This is it. You cup your head into her chest, inhaling her scent that still lingered there. She pulls you in further, placing kisses on your curls. Funny how magic happens when you swallow your pride. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡
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moonmanatee · 12 days ago
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this was one of those years that felt like it didn’t happen at all. where every time i did the whole so-what-are-your-updates thing with a friend i found myself saying “yeah nothing’s really going on except these four huge things” - change and turmoil just far enough out from my center that i’m standing in the still eye and everything else is whirling around me in a blur.
this year has been about resilience and accountability, about refining rituals and systems, digging deeper, grief and release and steadiness and loneliness, skill-building and recognizing what i can already do. working hard to reach out for connection in new social spaces; be honest be generous be earnest be kind, put the mask down and let them see. a lot of supporting others and feeling like i have to support myself all alone until i open my eyes and see who’s right there with me. and often, also, being alone in it.
i’m proud of myself for writing two tiny fics, both of which poured out in a frenzy of sprints in just about one evening, and slowly etched away at many languishing wips. i didn’t know i could do that, so wow.
but this year did happen: i read dozens of novels, cooked and baked many new and favorite recipes, hiked new trails and swam at old beaches, listened to not enough music and read not enough fics, cried melted shouted in the comments section and dms, chatted and connected with so many wonderful people, watched the weather change outside my window, rocked many a kiddo to sleep, learned more and more about myself.
for the new year i’d really like to remember more about 2024, look at it so i can go whoa yeah, i did that. so! if you’d like to, send me a word/phrase, an ingredient, a color, a date of the year, a genre, a prompt, an ao3 tag, a thought, an anything, and i will find and share something from my year that comes to mind. might be a pic, a song, a memory, a book rec, a piece of a wip, who knows.
thanks for being here with me.
💌 leo
thank you @getawayfox for the tag!! if any friends would like to do a year-in-reflection grab bag ask game too, please tag me so i can send you things. consider this an open tag! you!! and i’ll tag @apricitydays-lazynights @basicallyahedgehog @beloved-child-of-the-house @epitomereally @lqtraintracks @saintgarbanzo @starquestingfordrarry @thehoneybeet @uncannycerulean @xalandrix to tell me about your years, if you want.
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enchantedflameandflower · 3 months ago
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Vincent Stevens x reader fic!
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mood board by @kus-babygirl
We’ve got a new Vincent x reader multi-part romance! This was all entirely written by @kus-babygirl and her idea as well. I’ve done all the editing and added some bits here and there and she’s asked me to post for her! If you leave a comment make sure to tag @kus-babygirl!
Part 1
You had never imagined the most notorious womaniser in the city would ever fall in love with you, let alone completely change for you, but somehow…he did. Now you love him just as much and the two of you are here on your wedding day, saying your vows.
Okay, you’re probably wondering how you got here and who you’re marrying, so let's rewind to 3 years ago and start at the beginning…
You and your two best friends, Mia and Ayala, are out celebrating for your 30th birthday. Even though you refused numerous times before, as always, they managed to convince you to go out and celebrate with them. So here you are drinking and dancing to the most ridiculous songs known to mankind in a bar, but the three of you wouldn't change it for the world. 
After a bit, you need a break and you turn to Mia, touching her arm. “I'm going to sit down at the bar, my feet are killing me in these heels,” you shout over the music.
“Alright!” she shouts back, still dancing like a crazy person. And Ayala, you’ve noticed, has gone off with a man she met as soon as you three entered the bar, but you weren't worried about her, you knew she could handle herself. 
You carefully weave in and out of people as you try to make your way to the bar, but the place is crowded and some of them are moving around a bit wildly to the music. Just as you smile to yourself thinking you’re about to make it unscathed, someone behind you bumps your shoulder, making you jolt forward and knocking you right into someone else.
“Whoa!” The stranger in front of you exclaims. You watch as a few drops of his drink fly out of his glass, and he lifts his arm high up in front of him, trying to keep more of the alcohol from spilling.
“I’m so sorry!” you gasp, but you’re way too flustered to say more and you hurry off toward the bar before you get bumped into again, or worse.
Finally, you manage to make it and you take a seat on one of the stools, ordering yourself a glass of ice water. You’ve already consumed enough alcohol tonight to put an alcoholic to shame, that was for sure. 
After a few minutes, you start to relax. You’re taking very little sips of the water that the bartender gave you when a man takes a seat beside you.
“Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude, but you owe me a drink.” 
Confused, you turn to him, frowning a little. You realize suddenly this must be the man you bumped into but you hadn’t spilled his drink, he’d saved it. “Why do I owe you a drink?” 
“Because when I saw your beautiful face after you rushed off, I dropped mine,” he answers with such a charming smile that you were sure women all over would fall over their feet for him instantly. 
You scoff slightly, trying not to blush. “That has to be one of the cheesiest pick up lines I’ve ever heard.” 
The man chuckles lightly. “But it worked right,?”
“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” you answer before turning back to the dance floor and seeing Ayala has now rejoined Mia with her dancing.
"Well, can I buy you a drink then?” he asks, sounding a little more sincere now. “In reparation for having to listen to such a cheesy line?”
You finally turn back toward him, and notice he’s leaning a little closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable, and you study him for a moment, taking in everything about him, and you can’t help but be curious…is he…?. “I don't normally accept drinks from total strangers,” you finally answer, “but I think I could make an exception for you. I'll take a Coca Cola. I’ve already had enough alcohol for tonight and I don't want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow. I’m starting a new job.”
The man smiles, turning to the bar and ordering both himself and you drinks. Once they arrive you take very light sips of yours, happily relishing in the fizzy sweetness of the drink.
You spend awhile with him, chatting casually and sipping your drinks. You have to admit he’s extremely handsome and the conversation is good, he’s kind and thoughtful, asking you questions and actually listening.
“So what are you celebrating?'” he asks, smiling the most handsome smile you’ve maybe ever seen. 
“My 30th birthday, and starting my new job tomorrow,” you answer simply.
“Well, happy birthday and congrats on the new job! Maybe we could…turn this into a proper celebration, if you want? Come to my place with me, it will be quieter, we could talk some more…” he says sounding hopeful. 
You smile, before downing the rest of your drink and hopping off the bar stool and turning to him. "I'm sorry. I don't do one night stands with serial cheaters, and I wouldn't want anyone to think I only got this job because I slept with the boss. I will see you tomorrow at 9 o'clock, Mr Stevens." 
You turn away, making your way back onto the dance floor with your friends, while leaving Vincent Stevens by the bar absolutely flummoxed.
tbc…
Part 2
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